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Tits of Clay ft. Rebecca Naomi Jones - Gigantic

Rebecca has long legs and a small butt. If I were to design her myself, she'd have a slightly larger ass in the more voluptuous tradition. But she's in that tall mode of small shoulders, small hips and absolutely huge jugs, the kind of woman you look at on the street and wonder if you're man enough. You see that body and every part of your maleness twitches its genetic "I want that" beat. It's not that she's a beautiful woman.

He had become quite a handful and I didn't know what he would say or do. Rebecca was on top. My hands cupped her round ass. I told her that I'd love a threesome. In particular, I would love to watch her show off her amazing sexuality to another beautiful woman. Show another woman what you can do.

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Show her how turned on you get. You bet she said yes. She not only said yes but while we were still fucking she came up with a name. Her very good looking friend Julie had just broken up with her long term boyfriend, meaning her first boyfriend, meaning she'd only had sex with him unless she was lying. To my very pleasant surprise, Rebecca wanted to show Julie how great sex was. She sat up on my cock and rocked her hips. Julie has long brown hair, fairly big tits though not in the same league as Rebecca's, beautiful dark eyes and a mouth to die for.

She was used to giving head but it wasn't a great pleasure. She fucked her former boyfriend a lot but only came when he ate her and she was never that comfortable having her clit licked.

Most of the rest of her body was sexually awkward, if that means anything, almost gawky like an adolescent who can't quite control the movements. Old me actually turned down a threesome because it created too many problems.

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New me looked at Julie, looked at Rebecca and said that we could fool around and get comfortable and all relaxed and then try fucking or we could just get some fucking out of the way so we can relax and have a great time. I said I didn't want to focus on the act of fucking so I didn't want everything to feel like a buildup to the big moment. Julie naked was something special.

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She had bigger hips than Rebecca, rounder thighs and a furry dark triangle that she'd trimmed. Her pussy was genuinely beautiful and the angle of her open thighs was awe inspiring.

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Rebecca has thinner legs and the best view of her pussy is when her legs are not spread as wide. Julie spread was like an invitation to heaven, as though the lines of creation had gathered together to define the space that led to her pussy. I decided the new me would simply put my cock in Julie. So I asked Rebecca to suck on me while Julie lay back. She didn't know if she should laugh or freeze. When you're able to focus on it, tell me and we'll stop.

She focused, which meant she started to enjoy it, which meant she fucked me back. We rocked together. Her hands went around my back and her mouth turned to my cheek. I took that as my cue and pulled out. One look at those spread thighs and I knew that Julie's clit was the key. I took control of her focus, the same as I had with Rebecca.

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I ate her. Rebecca ate her. I put my cock in her mouth and we both ate her. I fucked her from behind as Rebecca ate her. Her clit was under siege and eventually it surrendered. Julie came, once, twice, four times, more. She mounted me. Rebecca sucked on her tits. To my delight, she had apparently become so trained to find sexual delight that she got off on Julie taking my cock. I pounded Julie's pussy as Rebecca urged her on. I really pounded her and Julie fucked back. After I came inside her, I rolled her on to her back and Rebecca and I sucked on her clit and pussy lips until she was totally helpless.

I really liked fucking Julie. I mean I really liked fucking Julie. So the new me decided it would be great if Julie became my mount. I decided that Julie would learn to give it up completely if she were mounted all day at any time of day no matter what she was doing.

I mounted her in the kitchen, bending her over the sink. I mounted her in the hallway. I mounted her in front of the TV. I mounted her in the doorway. I mounted her every time I got an erection, not to finish each time, but enough each time to make her feel that she'd been penetrated. One day, 30 penetrations - usually just a few strokes to keep her on edge - 3 times coming inside her, 2 times coming inside Rebecca.

I felt like a champion and my cock felt like it had been put through a wringer. A few days later, after Julie's pussy had recovered, Rebecca put on a strap-on and I tried to show her how to move her hips like a guy does when he fucks a woman.

It's not easy for a woman to get that. Julie got the hang of it first and when it was her turn to wear the strap-on, she drove Rebecca wild. You know where this is going - double penetrations, first Rebecca, then Julie. I'd been fucking Rebecca's ass regularly but I wasn't prepared for the sheer sexiness of her putting out with both holes, the feeling of me in her ass feeling the hard dildo in her pussy as Julie's beautiful face and body pressed against Rebecca's huge tits.

I nearly blew my load at the start. Old me would have kept worrying that I was going to lose it, but new me merely said "Yeah," let a little of the pressure out and enjoyed the ride. I banged her from behind, with Julie underneath in a sitting position.

Then Julie got on top and Rebecca sat back on my cock, slightly off to one side so I could kiss her and hold her jugs and watch Julie fuck her pussy as the three of us kissed. Rebecca came unbelievably hard. Getting my cock up Julie's ass for the first time was one of my great sexual experiences, on a par with my first time for the sheer intensity of the moment. Yes, she has a lovely ass but what made it great was that she really wanted it even though it hurt.

We did it standing and she stamped her foot and cried "Ow" even as she yanked on arm to keep fucking her. Maybe it shouldn't be a turn on but a beautiful girl enjoying the pleasure through the pain can be magnificent. They say the first time hurts, the second time is uncomfortable and the third time works. It took Julie four times, four ass fucks before she got completely off on being fucked by me and Rebecca at the same time. Julie asked what she would be, since Rebecca is a big boobed goddess.

That took some thought. Her clit is the center of her sexual universe. The more sensitive she became, the more she liked sucking cock or fucking or just kissing.

When she's being eaten, she writhes, her pussy rising and falling in a powerful natural cycle of excitement. She has learned to spread almost anywhere. She needs to spread her legs, to get a mouth or a hand up between her legs. She invites you between her thighs.

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At dinner, she'll sit on the edge of the table, rubbing her clit. She really is the ultimate spread and that of course is what I told her. I never imagined - this is so very true - being with a woman like Rebecca. We walk into a restaurant and the men shuffle slightly in their chairs as a sudden bout of stiffness makes sitting a tad uncomfortable. One guy at a pool party actually fell over a chaise lounge - which was occupied at the time - at the sight of her in her pink bikini, and it wasn't a particularly small suit.

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She does have one that could get her arrested, a tiny bottom and a top of two small triangles, but that's for my eyes only. Picture her - over six feet in heels, long blonde hair, massive tits with a small waist over a round ass - as she glides across a room, the men with the balls to stare salivating and the rest wishing they had the balls to gawk. When I was still with one of the big investment firms, you should have seen the looks on the faces of the other wives and girlfriends at the parties.

He's with her? Is she for real? Those have got to be fake they aren't. Guys I worked with would ask if she'd posed naked anywhere, hoping I guess to download her for some hot one-handed action. One really tactless asshole asked how much I'd paid for her.

Don't get the wrong idea. Rebecca doesn't wear skin tight pants or lots of make-up, like one of those "I'm trying so hard to be beautiful" types.

She accepts and glories in her sensuality. It's not her fault that God made her so outrageous looking. Yesterday, she wore her hair in two long braids, with a simple white v-neck t-shirt and plain blue shorts.

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She looked like a Viking princess or a nordic goddess - which she is - only thinner. It was hot and humid and in the evening we sat on the terrace, drinking a pitcher of margaritas, watching the city turn from day to night, the sunlight fading as the windows lit up. I touched my cold glass to her t-shirt and rubbed my free hand against her fabulous breasts. Rebecca leaned into me. And here. Rebecca moans a lot in my arms, not loudly but softly almost like a cat.

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It takes a while to work your way all around a gorgeous woman's body, making sure every part is properly turned on, because you see once you've made a complete circuit you have to go back and check the parts you've worked on to make sure they're still in tune.

Damn fucking body never stays completely in tip top full working order.

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Every time Rebecca has her period, I have to rewire some part of her sexual apparatus. Her tits work fine most of the time, but even they need a good polishing every now and then. Her thighs need to be reminded. The undersides of her wrists need to be caressed.

Her lips need to be kissed, to be made soft and willing. Her shoulders need to be rubbed, her ribs examined, her legs outlined by my fingertips, until her entire goddess body of sex purrs.

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One night at dinner, I asked Rebecca to tell me her fantasy and I promised that I would do anything to make it real for her, no matter what it was.

She came around the table, motioned for me to scoot back my chair and sat in my lap, one arm draped over my shoulder. She leaned closer.

My leg felt different and that was all. There was nothing wrong with it. I was not weak. My leg would not fail. I would not fail. The question then immediately popped into my head: then why do I see flashing lights every time I think about my leg or try to do something with it? The answer entered me, not just my mind, but every part of me. The flashing lights, I realized, were there to attract me but I'd interpreted them as a warning not to look.

When I thought about my leg, I'd turn away from the light when the light was actually intended to get me to look. I'd reversed the meaning. I felt a relief that can't be described, though later I felt stupid for not understanding the obvious.

I decided to look for flashing lights and move toward them. If they flash, I told myself, I must reverse my instinct to run and instead do the opposite. It just so happened that a lot of those lights were connected to women. Oh God how I love women, the way they look and walk and feel and sound and the way their bodies fit to man's. My instincts were so ingrained to turn away from the flashing light that my shyness at first grew worse.

I was now more aware of the flashing light so instead of simply trying to ignore these women, I was now actively fighting the urge to do something, which made dealing with them more painful. I don't know what pushed me over the edge. I know the moment, but not the why.

I found myself standing on the train next to a particularly beautiful girl, a girl I'd seen getting off at my stop before, and just started to talk to her. It wasn't hard at all. It was easy. I commented on the book she was holding, offered an interesting to me opinion on that author, and we conversed.

We walked out together, made plans to meet that evening and ended up in bed that weekend. We went out off and on for three months and we'd probably still be seeing each other if other girls hadn't entered the picture. She was a girl far too pretty for me, far too sophisticated in dress and manner. I may be smart but there's a huge difference between holding one's own in clever conversation and feeling at home in the world.

Over our time together, what amazed me most was that exact sense of comfort, that I did belong in her world. As long as I was relaxed, everything went smoothly, as though I had the master control knob in my hand and had turned it all the way to easy. We didn't go further because she wasn't right for me in a deep way, like I couldn't see us having children and raising them without them being extremely screwed up.

My sex life continued to get better as my self-image improved. I picked up a girl in line at the market. It involved talking to her. We discussed our food choices. I pointed to a picture of Jennifer Aniston and wondered aloud if people think she's prettier than she is because she's famous or if fame is actually a form of being pretty, no different than great legs or sultry eyes. She cooked me dinner and we had sex that evening, less than four hours after we met.

I saw her off and on, too. I had decided to say what was on my mind and do what I wanted, not without care or regard for feelings but in the general context that I'm a reasonably nice guy who tries to be sensitive to a girl's needs. I was finally able to choose to go with the flow. Women attracted me and I went toward their light. With each conversation, then with each caress, I realized that the key for me was to find each light and move toward it until it went away.

Then I met Rebecca. If a beautiful girl is a flashing light, then Rebecca is one of those high intensity searchlights they use at movie premieres. Her face, her figure, she was every sexual fantasy bundled in human form and the light she gave off in my head was so intense I literally turned and almost ran away. It took three solid exposures to her before I could stomach the intensity of the light playing in my brain, before I could venture speaking to her.

Our first conversation was not up to my usual standards. I fumbled for words, felt panic stricken and almost bolted when something powerful told me to go with the awkwardness. I don't usually, but I am now. I think you intimidate me. Or maybe it means I'm supposed to run and hide.

It's pretty silly, isn't it? Let's be honest, no matter what I said, she could turn me down. She could find me unattractive if I had developed the greatest line of bullshit since P. When you understand that, what difference does it make if you're smooth or not, as long as you cover the basics, like actually showing interest and not leaving the issue in doubt. I asked Rebecca out with perhaps the lamest lines ever used, that we should go on a date and if I can't talk then we'll agree I'm an idiot and leave it at that.

That takes us back to the beginning of this story. Rebecca and I went out the next night, which was a Thursday. I prefer a Thursday date because it isn't a real date night; the restaurants aren't crowded and you don't absorb that tension from the air of a Friday or Saturday when everyone is out looking for a catch and sexual tension and frustration is all around, usually fueled by too much alcohol. When you go out Thursday, if the date doesn't work, you can use work to get out of the date early.

It's the same idea as meeting for lunch or coffee but with a little more risk. If the date does work, then it's not so bad to go in tired on Friday with the whole weekend ahead to get farther along with her. Rebecca and her tits, those magnificent tits.

She wore a tight top, which set off lightning bolts in my head. I followed her to our table, watching her long legs stride languidly as her hips swayed with a completely natural and sensual ease.

clubciclistacullera.com - the best free porn videos on internet, free. Rebecca's Tits by cloacas All I know right this minute is that I want to tell Rebecca that she's got fantastic looking tits and that I want to know the real her so I can see what else she has going for her. So I do. "I guess what I'm trying to say is I want to know more about you. I can see what you look like and that's fantastic, but you. Rebecca has long legs and a small butt. If I were to design her myself, she'd have a slightly larger ass in the more voluptuous tradition. But she's in that tall mode of small shoulders, small hips and absolutely huge jugs, the kind of woman you look at on the street and wonder if you're man enough.

Her hair was down, a blonde cascade that draped over her shoulders and led my eyes right to her nipples. I wanted to leap over the table on top of her or excuse myself to go to the bathroom and never come back.

I'm going to cut to the chase here. I fucked her that night. Without a condom. Which was her idea.

PERIODS IN THE BATHTUB!

And those tits. Oh my Lord, they were firm, with a lot of heft and shape. I'd felt tits like that only once before - natural tits, that is - on a topless dancer in Tampa. She was older, late 30's, a little hard around the face, trying to earn what she could from the big bags attached to her chest, when it was obvious the alternative was giving head and spreading her legs. As I was squeezing and bouncing those juicy boobs, I realized they'd kept her ass off the pavement, that another woman just like her but with a flatter figure would have had to use her mouth and pussy as her money makers.

The old me would have been worried about my morals. Truth is Rebecca was a nice kid, but not the deepest pool or sharpest quill and I would have wondered if the entire evening weren't my salesmanship in action. We had a great date, a wonderful time full of laughing and sharing and an obvious physical connection. Did she pull me into her bed because she really liked me or did I just hit the right notes?

The old me would have done it but not enjoyed the experience to the fullest. The new me banged her brains out and had a great fucking time. Who the hell am I to judge this girl on one date? So she's not too brainy. So she's not the most interesting person I've ever met. She's nice. I like her. She's incredible looking. Maybe she'll grow on me. Maybe I'll be so frigging happy that we'll get married and have a dozen kids.

I'll never know if I don't give her a chance and if she's going to invite me between her legs then I'm going to have a great time. Let's take a minute to discuss what having a great time means. I'm not an asshole. Well, I'm not a total asshole. I'm probably an asshole in some ways but I'm definitely not in every way.

I get pleasure from taking my own and from giving it. When Rebecca got so hot that she asked me to take off the rubber, that made me feel great. When she moaned and whimpered, when she asked me to suck her nipples, when she cried, "Oh God" and "Yes" and "More", that made me feel fantastic and made me want to put out even more for her. I was on top. Her legs were spread so far apart she was almost doing the splits on her back. Her pelvis was pushing against me as I pumped my cock inside her. Our cheeks pressed together - I wanted her to feel the closeness of making love while having hot sex.

Can we do that? She licked her lips. She nodded. The old me would have been quiet but the new me said, "I really want to feel you. I can try to pull out if you want. I pulled out, reached down and took my extremely hard cock in my hand. I slid the rubber off and lifted my cock to line up with her opening. I entered her and to let her know I appreciated it said, "God, you feel absolutely perfect. I concentrated on enjoying the next strokes, then realized I still had the rubber in my hand.

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I raised myself on one elbow, stroking into her all the time, and touched the rubber to one of her massive boobs. I drew it in a circle around the outer rim and then again, closer to her nipple. I wanted her to feel that we were sharing this moment of uclubciclistacullera.comotected sex.

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