J Long - Neighborhood wives

The first blast of his pent-up, virgin cum shot out of his cock and kept shooting into the first pussy that be had ever fucked.

But before he could tell all those future Supreme Court Justices and Secretaries of State to fuck off, they banished him, rejected him, because he was considered too cry-babyish to join a fraternity of boys who acted like men.

Twenty-two years later, Marvin reflected upon that moment of fucking his first pussy. He wryly chuckled – oh, his pride had been hurt, sure, but not his prick. Shit, after that first piece of ass – after all, who gave a cow turd that his first piece of pussy had been a young teen – Marvin had vowed to fuck as many girls as he could get his hands on.

That vow had been made twenty-two years ago. And in that time any man who would have made that vow probably would have fucked 8,030 cunts at the rate of one pussy per day.

Marvin was too unlucky. After making his vow twenty-two years ago, the number of pussies he had gotten to fuck could be counted on one hand – well, in reality, on one finger.

What fucking luck! How many other virgins get pregnant the first time they fuck a guy.

Not Many.

Shit, Marvin couldn't believe how fucked up life had treated him. The very first girl he fucks has to end up pregnant and married and motherhooded all in one fucking year.

Marvin turned over on his side in bed and faced his wife, Connie. She was sleeping peacefully – shit, she always slept peacefully, as if nothing in the world could disturb her. Hell, nobody could disturb Connie, not even a man with a fuckable cock. She was one of those women who had never experienced an early night fuck, or a midnight sixty-nine, or a morning of cunt-eating, or any of those other sexual things that American couples specialize in.

In short, Connie Balakian had only been fucked once in her whole life – by her husband Marvin on their first date when she was a coed out of the University of Oklahoma, class of 1960. Well, at least Marvin knew she was faithful.

Marvin remembered that date very well – shit, any husband would remember the first piece of ass he got off his wife, but for Marvin, it was like an unforgettable memory because it was the one and only time he had gotten a piece of ass off his wife.

The year was 1959, the place was the Will Rogers Turnpike, the situation was as follows: Marvin was naked and in the back seat of his 1957 Chevy that he had bought hot off several Texas Mexicans who had sold it to him for two hundred American dollars, which was a pretty good profit for the spic-eyed Mexies because they got it for nothing down at Midnight Auto.

Connie was also naked in the back seat – and she was ready to piss in her panties. Only her white cotton panties were on their way to New York because Marvin had thrown them out the window and they had been snagged on the tailgate of a U-Haul beading east. Yet she was still ready to piss in fear because she was in a precarious position.

As most people know, chicks in 1959 had to put up resistance before they fucked their first cocks. Nothing like today's liberated woman who acts like a hot hen in search of a cock when deep down inside they're just as chicken as the chicks were in 1959.

Now Connie, naked Connie, who was squirming uncomfortably in the back seat of Marvin Balakian's 1957 stolen Chevy, said frightfully, "Will it hurt, Marvin?"

Marvin shook his head, pretended to be groovy, said in a neat-o, keen-o voice, "It's keen, Connie. Man, fucking is wildsville."

Connie shook her head. "I don't know, Marvin. Your whatchamacancallit sure looks big."

"You mean my cock?"

"Marvin!"

"Well, Connie, that's what people call cocks. And mine's no different than other guys' prick… except it's got a little more curve to it."

"Yes, I noticed that," Connie commented.

"My daddy's was more straight-shaped!"

"Oh!"

"Oh, what?"

"Oh, I thought you never seen a cock before."

"Well, jeez, Marvin. Daddy's cock ain't really a real cock, I mean 'cause it's my daddy's cock. Not like some other man's cock. I mean my daddy's no stranger to me, you know."

"Oh… Hey! You said cock, too. Shame on you."

"What? Oh… yeah, I guess I did say cock." Marvin breathed very heavily, the windows of the car started to fog up. Christ, it had sounded so erotic when Connie said cock, like God had made her lips for saying cock and prick and dick and pussy and cunt and twat. Jeeesus! His cock was bulging another inch.

Marvin looked down at his erection. The moonlight pouring in from the foggy windows gave him enough light to see by. He didn't like what he saw. Oh, his prick, was erecting all right, but the angle of his erection sure didn't look all right. Well, he knew that his cock always erected in a banana shape, but would Connie know that the way his prick erected was unusual, or different, or strange, or weird?

"Your cock looks weird."

"What!?"

Connie was looking directly at his prick, watching it grow larger and larger. And, as it grew bigger and bigger, the old bend in the middle became more pronounced, and pretty soon the tip of Marvin's cock was digging into his navel because of the unusual curve in the shaft.

"Your cock looks more like a suitcase handle."

"Ah," Marvin lied, "that's because of the way I'm sitting. When I stand straight, my cock really straightens out." God, he hoped and prayed that she wouldn't ask him to stand up.

"Can I touch it?"

"Touch what… oh! You mean my cock. Sure, if you want to."

Her hand was ice-cold and Marvin gasped when her icy fingers started prodding his cock here and there. Oh, Christ! Her fingers were cold, but his cock was as hot as his sweating forehead.

"Gosh, Marvin. I thought pricks would be all bumpy and have zitty things all over them. My mom used to tell me that men have such ugly ideas between their legs."

"Yeah, what?"

"Yeah, your mom was wrong… oh, God! Connie, please keep touching me like that!"

Connie kept touching his prick. After all, it was the first cock she had ever touched well, except for the times her daddy used to fuck her mother when she was still in the womb, but most people don't consider that any kind of incestuous contact unless it was in the ninth month of pregnancy.

Marvin's slippery ass slid down into the scat, giving Connie's ever-moving hand more room to touch his cock.

She really started to get the hang of touching a cock. She couldn't believe how much pricks throbbed. She couldn't believe that cocks had such big heads on them. Shit, pricks were nothing like they showed in her eighth grade sex hygiene class – those textbook cocks looked more like overgrown limp thumbs. Instead of using a light feathery touch to find out the true dimensions of Marvin's prick, she took a good baseball grip around the girth of his cock.

"Oooooooh, Connie! God, you got such a good grip an my cock!"

"Marvin, what's this bulgy thing that runs along the shaft?"

"What bulgy thing? Oooooh, please Connie, keep doing that!"

Connie had discovered this pulsing, bulging thing that ran from the base of Marvin's pulsating cock to the throbbing head of his prick. The pulsing, bulging thing was pulsing harder and bigger, bigger everytime she moved her baseball grip up and down on his cock.

"Gosh Marvin… pricks sure are smooth and really slippery… Yuk! What's that stuff all over my fingers?!"

Marvin wanted to die, wanted to disappear into the seat cushions. He tried his best to shrink into the upholstery but the customized Chevy had a Tijuana tuck-and-roll job that was just too well done.

"That's stuff… er, that's stuff that makes babies."

"Oh, God! No! Marvin, it's all over my hand! Look, Marvin! It's all over my hand!"