WARNING: THIS IS A BIT GRAPHIC, IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED BY SEX OR THE WORDS PUSSY, JIZZ, COCK, POON, OR ANYTHING ELSE RELATING TO THE MALE OR FEMALE BODY PARTS AND/OR FLUIDS.........DO NOT FUCKING READ THIS!
Ari Cullen made a great Banner for this chapter and it is on my facebook :)
Getting Ahead of Himself
Eddie's Peen POV: A collaboration by i'm random girl and ManiacMotherland
You see, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis. And only enough blood to run one at a time. -- Robin Williams
"Put It in Your Mouth" --Akinyele
"Nasty Girl" --Nitty
"Pink" -- Aerosmith
"Crazy Bitch" -- Buckcherry
"My Ding-a-ling" -- Chuck Berry
"Wild Thing" -- Old School Players
"Lil Bit" -- 50
How has my life been lately, you ask? Well, it's been motherfucking dry. Dry as the fucking Kalahari desert. I have seen better days, days when I was raw and bruised and nearly bent from all the pussy I would be getting myself into. Raw and bruised and bent, but happy. Ah, the good old days.
But to explain this all properly, we will have to take a trip back in time. You see, I'm a penis. And not just any penis. I am Edward Cullen's penis and I have been stuck into some seriously fine motherfucking pussy in my day. That was all before she came along, of course, but I am getting ahead of myself. A head getting ahead of himself, imagine that. But excuse me, I digress.
It all started about four years ago. My homeboy finally decided to acknowledge me hanging here like a lonely string of sausage. And let me just tell you, once he finally realized the kind of late-night fun and amusement that I was good for, there was no turning back for us. His first attempt at pleasuring himself was not pretty. Mr. Dumb Ass didn't think of using any type of lubricant, and then he got way too excited in all the rubbing and squeezing that exactly forty-five seconds later, we had a fucking sticky mess everywhere. Nothing worse than jizzing where you have to sleep. Yuck. Total fucking yuck.
Those first few months were hard on me. And not in a good way. I was used and abused so many times I wondered if it were actually possible to run out of cum. My two brothers, his balls, Dingle and Dangle, they were getting a workout as well. Sometimes we would just lie there at night, hoping he would forget about us for a bit and let us get some rest. Or at least figure out how to handle us better.
He did finally come to his senses. He did a bit of research online, googled the word masturbation, and for some reason adrenaline rush, and soon figured out it was beneficial to both of us if he used some lotion or handled his business in the shower like a normal fucking person. Since then, it's been fairly smooth sailing. Well, almost. There have been a few embarrassing moments. Like the time the pretty substitute teacher in algebra called us up to do a problem at the board and Mr. Stupid Fuck turned back around to his classmates with a ring of chalk on the front of his pants, clearly marking the tip of our erection that he had been grinding up against the wall. But I am attached to a teenaged boy, and these things are bound to happen from time to time.
And then there was our fifteenth birthday. Yeah, we were cocky, but we had every right to be. I had taken notice of the other guys and their fishing tackle in the showers after gym class, and let me tell you, I was clearly the biggest rod in the pond. I knew I could snag us whatever fish we wanted, if Mr. Numb Nuts didn't fuck it up. I had a little more snap in my swing when he would walk around campus because I knew we were way bigger than all the other guys walking around with just some little twigs between their legs. Maybe they hadn't hit puberty, maybe they had and just didn't have good genes or something, but fucking hell they were all so puny-wuny teeny-weeny small. We were a motherfucking good set of good genes in a motherfucking good pair of jeans. I fucking wanted to be noticed.
About then, probably in part because of his hair... I have to admit it, the boy does have really nice hair, both up there and down here... but for whatever reason, the girls started paying extra attention to my boy and I knew it would only be a matter of time before I made my grand entrance. I counted down the days until our fifteenth birthday party. I knew I had more influence on Mr. Sex on the Brain than he would ever admit, and I planned on feeling something up against me that night. Something slippery hot and throbbing hopefully, but anything besides his hand. Because I was getting downright tired of feeling nothing but Edward Cullen's hand.
It wasn't too long before we were locked in a dark closet with some bimbo. I don't remember names. I remember texture, softness, tightness, moisture. After all, being popped into the gooey-ooey middle of some horny little honey, that's all that really matters. Ahhhhh. Yep, that was my first feel of a girl's hand. The movement was kind of sloppy, she obviously not really knowing what the hell she was doing, but fucking hell the feel of her tiny hands gliding up over me, soft and gentle, it was phenomenal. Fuck, for a first-time hand job, it was actually kinda nice.
She probably could have done a better job if she hadn't been staring so bug-eyed at me. I felt like I should have been wearing a big flashing neon sign saying, "Better stand back! Don't know how big this thing is gonna get!" Still, all the face-to-dick attention I was getting gave me an idea. As nice as the hand job was, I knew we could sco' mo' from the closet-ho. I was replaying the lyrics of that song in my head, "Put it in your mouth, your moutherfuckin mouth." So I twitched a little in my trousers, letting my dude know I was ready to take the next step.
He obviously got the hint, because right about then, he pulled me out all the way so that Dingle and Dangle were getting a free show and asked if she would suck me off. Not too gentlemanly or smooth, but fuck if I cared. The silly little bit of boobies wasted no time going down on her knees. As soon as I felt her wet, warm mouth, I knew it was at the end of my ability to wait. I tried to hold out for my boy, to give him time to enjoy having his piece slurped for the first time, but there was just no hope. I exploded like a fucking volcano, and she choked and sputtered as I did, trying to get my creamy goodness out of her mouth. Unfortunately, she spit the jizz out all over my boy. I didn't give a fuck. I was one sat-is-fie-eed motherfucker. But he sure was cussing up a storm. He learned a valuable lesson that day though... always give warning before unloading spooge into a unsuspecting mouth.
After that, I reminded him constantly of what we were capable of. He would take notice of a pretty girl with plump lips, or maybe just some nice tits in a low-cut shirt, or perhaps some oh-shake-it-for-me-baby booty in tight jeans, and I would stiffen a little just to let him know I was game. I never wanted to let my boy down. And we sorta made an agreement, we two. He kept me happy with lots of ogling of nipples and ass, or some porno and happy time with Mr. Motion Lotion if nothing else was available, and I kept him up with the hard and firm reputation of being a seriously good fuck.
As time went on, the girls got more experienced, the blow jobs happened more frequently and I was able to maintain my stamina a little better. We even met this one chick, Ari. Yes, amazingly, I actually remembered her name, but only because she had a fucking tongue ring. And holy fucking hell the things she did with that tongue. She licked up one side of my shaft and down the other like I was a god-damn cherry popsicle, applying just the right amount of pressure with that metal ball. I decided that this bit of hardware was a new requirement. Once you have been sprung by a tongue ring, there just is no going back. And to make the night even more magical, the bitch swallowed. Yep, that's right, ate it up like it was the last fucking food source on the planet. Liquid man cheese squirting from the nozzle of a spray can, that was me. Oh the memories. I wish we had gotten her number. The problem was, well...let me count them... we met her at a party in Seattle where everyone was drunk off their asses and we were out way past curfew, she was eighteen, and apparently for some reason she was under the impression that we were in college. Sadly, after that, finding sixteen-year-old girls with tongue rings who were willing to swallow cum was not a easy task in Forks. But man was I ever looking forward to college!
All the cock-sucking was fantastic, but after awhile, I was ready to push for more. Push. Push. Unggh. God I love to push, but I digress. I thought I would have to do a bit of convincing for my boy, but that just wasn't the case. The first time that poonanny was offered up, he accepted it. It was kind of "a dress all in black, paramilitary strike, in and out, deliver the goods, mission accomplished, now wipe down everything a damp cloth and get me a cigarette" kind of thing. But eventually, we were able to work out the kinks and soon became very well-known for our talent. The saying rings true, "Women don't want no eeny weeny, teeny weeny shriveled little short dick man". And once word got around of what my boy was packin, the bitches were throwin their poon in my face... literally
Pussy soon became my home away from home... again, literally. There is nothing better than being buried deep in a warm, tight tunnel of darkness. I have seen every shape, size, and color. I am an equal opportunity employer cunt-fucking Cullen, no discrimination here. If they are willing to spread their legs, I am willing to jump all up in there and do my happy dance. Bit of a slam dance, really. Dress me up in something tight like a second skin. Then lots of drinking and bouncing up and down, pushing all around, until you cough up something. We usually try to switch it up, because variety is a good thing. And with my width and girth and talent, these bitches tended to get attached like motherfucking static cling. Not that I minded some regular interaction of the reliably ready female kind, but my boy doesn't go for any of that going-steady kind of shit.
All that changed recently, however, once she wandered into our lives. Oh trust me, I was more than willing, ready and able. Still am all that shit, just waiting for the moment I can get inside her panties. But my boy, obviously punishing me for reason I cannot fathom, has put a halt on all the pretty pinkmeat attention that I am so used to getting. Yes, I know he has eyes for this one girl in particular. I couldn't give a fuck if I only got attention from one girl for the rest of my life, as long as I was getting it often, frequently and regularly... and like, now. God-damn-it, I want it. Now. But the problem here is that I am getting nothing, zilch, zero. Total pussy embargo. Not even a hand job from the boobalicious Bella Swan.
And it's not like the opportunity hasn't presented itself either. It has, several times. We have been alone in her bed, in our bed, in a car, in the woods. Hell, even in church. You name it, and the opportunity has been there. And every single fucking time, I have risen to the occasion. A few times even attempting to free myself despite being attached to a reluctant pelvis, since Mr. All The Suddenly Chaste seemed so unwilling to do it on his own.
To be honest, it really pisses me off. Never have I let him down. Never-ever-ever. Ever. We had a fucking understanding! And then one girl with her voodoo magic has managed to ruin everything. I'm not sure when exactly he started thinking with his brain and not the head that really counts, but this just isn't working for me at all. If I weren't so scared that I would back-up the pipes and find myself clogged with a nasty bit of spooge-sponge, I would just hold out all together and not cooperate when he jacks me off... which he has been doing a lot lately, at various different locations, usually with her just in the other room. This makes absolutely no sense to me. She's just in the other room! I try to scream at him. But I guess some release is better than none and I just shut up and let him jerk me off.
And so, I have now made it my mission in life to get some type of action very very very soon, no matter the cost. I even have a little song I sing to keep my head focused. And one day, Edward Cullen is going to finally let me out of his pants again. Let's just hope I don't shrivel up and drop off before then. Until then, this the song that I sing:
All a wang really need is a lil bit.
Not a lot homeboy just a lil bit
A lil bit of this a lil bit of that.
Come on, let's head to her crib a lil bit.
Unbutton her pants a lil bit
take um off pull um down a lil bit
get to kissing and touchin a lil bit
let get to lickin and fucking a lil bit.
Baby got me feelin right, you heard me?
My momma gone, you can spend the night.
I aint playin, I'm tryin to fuck tonight.
Clothes off, face down, ass up, c'mon.