Edward Lee - Trolley No. 1852

She grabbed an exquisite steamed-wood chair about and plopped right down in it, positioning me to stand before her.

“I say, you’d be advised to treat that chair with care, miss,” I warned. “Unless I’m mistaken, it’s a genuine Adam. The canework alone is without peer.”

“Oh, shut up, you,” she sputtered and at once fumbled with my belt. “We’ll get to the bottom of this . If it’s all you in here, I’ll be a monkey’s aunt…”

I remained mystified by her coy complaint. A sudden modesty overwhelmed me when she unfastened my trousers, then hastily slid them down along with my briefs.

Ammi stared with a dropped jaw, stared right at my bared groin. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“What?” I asked, but my feet shifted a bit, from the cringing embarrassment of being so closely and privately examined. All I could think to utter was, “I, uh, I suppose it’s not as large as you’re use to,” and I chuckled nervously “But there’s little I can do about that. ”

She gaped up with jade-green irises burning beneath the blacker-than-onyx eyebrows. “Not as large? This is the biggest prick I’ve ever seen… ”

Her remark befogged me, for in her tone I detected not a trace of prevarication. “You, uh, you mean to say that my… member is more sizable than the average you’re accustomed to?”

She snapped in a course delight. “It’s the biggest cock I’ve ever had hanging in my face, and I can tell you, there’ve been quite a few!” and with that she began to stroke the drooping shaft of flesh with a lithe finger.

I chuckled. “You flatter me, Ammi, but I’m sure you’re being over-lenient in your assessment of my privates.”

She giggled another “Shut up! ” and without reservation sucked the entirety of my flaccid penis into her mouth. The adroitness of her oral skill sent shivers through my being. (This, for me, was a pleasure long forgotten; my ex-wife had a knack for it, I will say, but her preference for penetration always won out. Many was the night I’d gaze at the ceiling contemplating Poe, Machen, and Blackwood whilst she hopped ludicrously up and down on me, enfrenzied akin to a mare in heat.) But as for this highly spirited and deliciously naked Ammi, erecting my manhood seemed to be her most steadfast desire. It didn’t take long before its girth actually stretched her lips. She nearly gagged sliding it out. “Jesus Christ , mister! It’s so big I can’t even get it all in my mouth!”

“I—I… don’t know what to say…”

She checked my hands, examining them, evidently, for traces of a wedding band. “So you’re not married?”

“Oh, no, not anymore.”

“Well, it’s an awful shame that some happy woman isn’t getting this stuck in her every night!”

I felt foolish presuming to converse whilst my nearly erect privates wobbled up and down, and that was not to mention the preposterous entails of our discourse. “I was married once but I’m afraid the halls of academe proved far more my forte than the pastures of domesticity and wedlock.”

She glared at me. “Shut up! ” and then she yanked me to the bed and nearly threw me down on it. “Now… I’ve just got to know!”

I peered toward where she now rummaged through a drawer in the spectacular armoire. “Know what, if I may ask?”

“Just how big this monster is!” she replied, returning with a tin ruler. Her frenzied hand pumped the penile shaft in utter awe, until full erection had been achieved, whereupon she aligned the rule to it…

“Holy shit! ” she profaned.

My penis, now fully invigorated, slightly exceeded the rule’s maximum length.

It was a twelve-inch rule.

Ammi went all in a frenzy now, retrieving something else from the armoire and then returning to the bed to boldly straddle me with her bare hips. “No more fooling around,” she determined, opening a modest foil package. “For every minute that this gorgeous cock isn’t buried in my bush, that’s a minute of horrible waste!”

“What’s that… you’ve got there?” I asked, my eyes asquint.

“Don’t want to put a bun in little Ammi’s oven, do you?”

The frail, flavescent object in her hands was a barrier prophylactic, one of the newer Latex versions by its look. I could hardly object to its non-prescriptive and, hence, illegal utility here, as prostitution was no less illegal.

Ammi’s face turned flustered, and, again, she profaned, “Shit, your cock’s so big, I hope it doesn’t bust the goddamn thing!”

My frown was all-too quick. “Ammi, if I may? Profanity does your demeanour precious little justice.”

She squinted at me. “The fuck? ” and then she carefully rolled the prophylactic all the way down my penile shaft.

“ Now we’re talkin’,” she gasped with a smile after essentially sitting on my erection and licensing it full entry into her womanly channel. “God—yeah, oh, fuck that’s good… All the way in, yeah! All the way in!”

The sensations were admittedly quite pleasing but I’m afraid Ammi’s vandalism of the English language and her crude, splayed-legged pelvic locomotions left much to be desired. At one point she reached behind herself and cosseted my scrotal sack, only to further profane, “For fuck’s sake, mister. Even your balls are huge! They feel like something in the goddamned hen house! ”

Indeed.

Her copulative motions accelerated, hands on knees as she continued to pound her loins upon my phallus. As she tended to the act, I, instead, surveyed more of the room’s splendid features. The elaborate wainscoting was absolutely fabulous (more of the Georgian Period) while the wall-coverings couldn’t have pleased me more: herringbone patterns of gold and vermillion. When I craned my neck to examine a considerable oil landscape on the wall, I had to request, “Pardon me, Ammi, but would you know if that formidable painting there is an original Turner? It seems to be.”

Her lust-pinkened face smoldered. “Shut up! We’re doing this now! This! Shit on the goddamn painting!” Sweat beaded on her face and misted her bosom. “With my luck you’ll be one of these guys who gets off in a minute…”

Hmmm, I considered.

In not one but twenty minutes’ time, Ammi was balloon-cheeked and shrieking in an undisputable ecstatic bliss. The purse of her womanhood spasmed desperately about the stiff meat of my sexual organ; I dare say, it seemed to squirm in time with her rising shrieks. When she’d had her protracted moment, her head wobbled on her neck, and she sidled over on the priceless bed, tongue hanging. Fast-breath’d, she grinned lazily. “That was the best fuck of my life…,” and after a few more moments of recapturing her wind, she manipulated herself around, to look flabbergasted at my still-stiff-as-a-baker’s-pin penis.

“Did you come?”

I elevated a brow. “If by that you mean did I experience an ejaculatory release and sequent orgasm? No.”

“Wait right there!” she exclaimed and abruptly roused. She stalked, if a bit painfully, toward the ornate door but stopped to point absurdly at my erected member. “And don’t let that go away!”

Oh, for goodness sake! Where did she expect my penis to go? After she’d made her exit, I felt ridiculous lying there with my trousers down and a rubber-sheathed erection throbbing. Where could she be off to?

And I mustn’t forget to show her Selina’s photo…