The Girth Experience

Explicit content warning

08/02/23 • 20 min

1 Listener

Steamy-Stories

You Snooze, You Lose! Mix long-time friends, a few drinks, and what do you get?

by rawallace. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

I couldn’t believe it. How did I get into this? It sounded daring, forbidden, exciting even at the time. I wasn’t inexperienced, so when Tyrell suggested we go into the bedroom and have sex together, I agreed. Though in retrospect, the large glass of wine I had consumed had played a part too–it had really loosened me up. My inhibitions disappeared–my urge to receive sinful pleasure seemingly heightened. That it would involve three of us didn’t seem to register as a problem. In fact it was the opposite–I had never done kinky before.

After all, cock was cock wasn’t it? I enjoyed it–provided it wasn’t the hard-pounding crap as shown in porn. I trusted Cory and Tyrell as we had been friends for years and had gone skinny dipping together at night several times. Between boyfriends, I had made-out with both of them–at different times–never going any further than a little mutual groping. I’d never really gotten a good look at their packages in the dark while skinny-dipping–just hints of what I knew was there.

But what I had felt in my hand a few hours ago told me something I hadn’t known. Now, the events of the evening slowly unfolded in my mind as I slipped into my own bed with a knowing smile.

We sat watching a video, talking, and drinking as Tyrell had invited Cory and me over. He was pretty well along in his drinking considering the number of empty beer bottles sitting on the kitchen countertop when I arrived.

Tyrell sat looking at me, a goofy smile on his face, “When’s the last time you got laid girl?”

“I’m not telling you that,” I said laughing.

Though it got me to thinking it had been a while and the last masturbation session with my pillow hadn’t accomplished as much as I had hoped it would. In terms of lasting satisfaction it had hardly taken the edge off my craving.

Cory looked at me with a shrug, apparently wondering where this was going as he sipped his Coke. I patted his leg and gave it a few rubs to show him I understood.

“You’ve got protection with the pill–why don’t we get it on?” Tyrell offered with a slur in his voice.

I didn’t say ‘yes’ immediately. But, it got me thinking about it and well...it got me thinking harder about it. Then the damn tingle started right where I couldn’t easily ignore it–telling me it was a great idea. By that time Tyrell had taken the initiative and started rubbing my leg–it had an immediate effect as his fingers caressed the bared skin at my knee the crept up under my skirt. A slow burning fuse was lit and a minute later I gave him my reply.

“Okay, we can do it, just one of you at a time, no three-some shit,” I said with authority. The wine had made me overly confident and receptive. I remembered Cory looking at me as if I were some kind of alien creature as I squirmed on the sofa cushion. Though when I reached over to rub his leg he didn’t move away in revulsion. In fact, the smile that came to his face after a few seconds suggested something else.

Tyrell stood up, a little unsteady, and headed for the bedroom. I followed, with Cory trailing behind me. Tyrell went to the loveseat and sat down–bending over to untie his running shoes.

Then he sat back up–“Whoa! What ah! head rushh,” he slurred as he lay his head onto the high cushioned back of the loveseat and closed his eyes.

Cory looked at me, “Tahesha, do you really want to do this?”

“Sure, if you’ll do me first. I don’t think Tyrell will last long enough. Not with as much as he’s had to drink. I need a good fuck.”

“Do you have some lube?”

“Yes, why? I’ve never had a reason to use any.”

“Maybe you should wait to make up your mind if you really want us to do this,” he suggested cautiously.

“What? Don’t you want me? I thought white guys always wanted to screw any girl,” as we stepped closer to the bed.

“You’re one fine looking woman. Of course, I’ve thought about it,” he admitted quietly.

My fuzzy mind registered at least Cory was honest about it. I glanced to the other side of the bedroom where Tyrell was supposedly undressing–he was passed out–slumped down onto the loveseat, with his shoes still on.

I turned to look at Cory, “I’m horny beyond belief and my pussy is throbbing. It’s been months since the last time. You know I want this, or I wouldn’t have agreed to it. If I’m that attractive to you, there’s no reason for us not to,” I argued.

“Tell you what, let’s get undressed, and kiss a little. Then as we go along we’ll see where it goes.”

Unbuttoning my blouse, I...

You Snooze, You Lose! Mix long-time friends, a few drinks, and what do you get?

by rawallace. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

But what I had felt in my hand a few hours ago told me something I hadn’t known. Now, the events of the evening slowly unfolded in my mind as I slipped into my own bed with a knowing smile.

Tyrell sat looking at me, a goofy smile on his face, “When’s the last time you got laid girl?”

“I’m not telling you that,” I said laughing.

Cory looked at me with a shrug, apparently wondering where this was going as he sipped his Coke. I patted his leg and gave it a few rubs to show him I understood.

“You’ve got protection with the pill–why don’t we get it on?” Tyrell offered with a slur in his voice.

Tyrell stood up, a little unsteady, and headed for the bedroom. I followed, with Cory trailing behind me. Tyrell went to the loveseat and sat down–bending over to untie his running shoes.

Then he sat back up–“Whoa! What ah! head rushh,” he slurred as he lay his head onto the high cushioned back of the loveseat and closed his eyes.

Cory looked at me, “Tahesha, do you really want to do this?”

“Sure, if you’ll do me first. I don’t think Tyrell will last long enough. Not with as much as he’s had to drink. I need a good fuck.”

“Do you have some lube?”

“Yes, why? I’ve never had a reason to use any.”

“Maybe you should wait to make up your mind if you really want us to do this,” he suggested cautiously.

“What? Don’t you want me? I thought white guys always wanted to screw any girl,” as we stepped closer to the bed.

“You’re one fine looking woman. Of course, I’ve thought about it,” he admitted quietly.

“Tell you what, let’s get undressed, and kiss a little. Then as we go along we’ll see where it goes.”

Unbuttoning my blouse, I...

Previous Episode

The Pilot & the Spy

A WW2 fantasy: a spy and a pilot take refuge in each other.

by PeriodPorn. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Max turned around, still half asleep, pulling my body into the half-moon of his own. We lay on a straw mattress in the loft of a barn that had been taken by the resistance here in rural France, and for modesty’s sake we had retreated to either sides of it; a difficult task, now made more challenging by the pilot’s movements.

He took a deep inhale, his face nestled into the back of my neck, and exhaled warm breath onto my tingling skin. Now, with me in his arms, his nightmares were retreating into the dark recess of his subconscious.

We had slept beside each other for four nights now. That was how long it had been since we had found each other on a backroad from the border, him separated from his grounded plane and me... well, I had kept myself separate from everything in order to remain undetected. Every night he had been wracked with awful nightmares; this was the first he had touched me in his sleep.

I knew that this respite from undoubtedly horrid images should be protected, but an itch inside of me yearned for his hands, now securely fastened at my waist, to animate themselves and explore my body. He had removed his cotton undershirt to sleep better in the heat, and in the dappled moonlight of the barn I could make out the sinews beneath his bare skin.

“You hardly know him”, my brain hissed to itself, cannibalistic in it’s determination to stifle the urges. “And he’s not even awake so he doesn’t know what he’s doing”-

Yet, I tilted my pelvis back ever so slightly. I sighed, trying to mimic the unintentional sounds of someone asleep. The movement made my body arch back into his groin. His body seemed to instinctively tighten around me, welcoming the way the space between us vanished. I felt small, childlike inside his broad, muscular frame.

I tilted my pelvis back yet again, hoping the rhythmic movement might stir some kind of consciousness into his lower half. I moaned, as if I was the one having nightmares now. His arms, once slack against my lithe torso, now stiffened.

That might have done it.

I continued to keep my eyes shut, gripping my arms tighter against his, as if I were protecting myself. The more I created this fiction, the more real it felt. Hadn’t I been trying to make myself invisible, protecting myself from enemies this whole time?

“Natalie?” He whispered, his Scottish vowels thick and low in his hoarse semi-consciousness.

I waited a moment, then pretended to rouse myself. I murmured a little.

“Natalie,” he said, more gently this time, “I think you’re havin’ a nightmare.”

You’re a sneaky bitch, my brain thought- but his arms were so strong, his chest so firm against my back. I hadn’t felt this safe since the start of the war. I was alone then... I had been alone for years. I had used men sexually, of course... but not for my own comfort. Not for my own pleasure. Hadn’t I known from the moment he smiled from beneath his RAF cap that this could be a different kind of ally?

“You’re having a bad dream,” he repeated softly, with a tenderness I almost couldn’t bear. As if I’d known him for more than two days. As if the thought of me, my safety, and my unreachable subconscious was of the utmost importance to him.

I turned in so I was facing him, curling inwards and tucking my face just below his chin. I would never admit to being frightened by daylight, but in the darkness, I permitted myself this luxury; comfort. I had been frightened for so long, one almost comes to accept it; it was a fear people who did not know wartime would never understand.

One of the pilots arms wrapped around my back and scooped me up, the other wrapping underneath my neck to cradle the nape of my hairline. His fingers were coarse unlike mine which were still soft from handling weapons of a slightly different kind: transistor radios.

“Shhh,” he whispered sleepily. “It’s alright.” His hand was so big that whilst still cupping the back of my head, his thumb could rest against my cheek. It stroked my face calmly, sending chills from the root of my torso up my spine.

My breath caught a little, suspended between us. His other arm was still draped around me, no doubt feeling the change in my body. His body stilled too; he was suddenly holding his breath as well. His thumb, however, maintained its steady rhythm.

I held my breath still, willing it to edge closer towards my parted lips.

And then, it did. I could feel it... His thumb was edging closer and closer towards my lips, and then dared to caress them, ...

Next Episode

PreMed Sex Tutoring

Her professor teachers her about orgasms, sucking, raw cocks.

by FatherMarin. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

Unlike most of her professors, Dr. Redding spoke with enthusiasm. He was clearly passionate about the subject material, and enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge with his freshman class. Just how enthusiastic he could be was something she would come to learn in short order. For now, as the professor lectured, her face remained down while she doodled, one hand covering her brow like a visor. It was all she could do to tune him out. That, and the growing wetness between her legs.

“As you progress through the program and eventually into your residency, you’ll become accustomed to patients being nervous, or shy, just as you’ll become accustomed to your own nervousness. My advice is to not stress about this process, and to just let things happen naturally. Any questions?”

She hadn’t been paying attention to the lecture or the time. Thank god, she thought, her face flush with embarrassment as she rose to leave the class.

“Excuse me, would you remain a moment?”

She turned to the professor before glancing around as her other classmates filed out of the room. “Me?” she asked.

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“Well, I have work right after this, and it’s getting late...” She looked outside, the sun having nearly set.

“I couldn’t help but notice you were distracted today,” Redding said as the last student filed out of the room. This was the last class of the evening, she knew, and soon they would be alone as most of the students left for home or the bar.

“Oh. Maybe. Sorry,” she said.

“A lot of students find it hard to adjust at the start of the year. I like to make sure they know I’m available and willing to help with anything that comes up, or with any needs that may arise. How have you been adjusting?” Redding walked around around and casually closed the door at the back of the room before returning to his desk at the front, leaning against the front of it and crossing his arms. His slacks seemed to pull taught against his muscular thighs. The bulge in his pants was noticeable. She swallowed, again that wetness between her legs apparent.

“Fine. No issues, really. Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all. You have a 4.0 this quarter. Normally you’re pretty attentive, but today you hardly looked up once. I thought to check in with you since we’re half-way through the quarter already. How are you finding the material?”

They’d been studying reproductive systems, and in truth, much of it was new to her. She’d come from a conservative household and a private Catholic school, and neither had ever taught her anything much about how her own body worked, or sex, or what to do with herself when she’d felt aroused, except that anything outside of marriage–even masturbation–was a sin. It was no wonder that when she began to notice Redding she had a hard time focusing.

“It’s...fine,” she said, fidgeting nervously in her chair. She looked up at him, at his broad chest and handsome features–stubbled chin, blue eyes, shaggy hair. He looked like someone from a shampoo commercial. The front of his shirt was tucked casually into his pants, belt slightly askance as he shifted position, ankles uncrossing and crossing again.

Suddenly aware that her nipples were pressing prominently against her blouse, she pushed her chest forward, unaware of the motion until she made it.

“I don’t have a lot of, um...I mean with the material, I don’t...I haven’t...” she trailed off, catching herself again glancing toward the bulge in his pants before looking quickly away. Was it growing?

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you? Not much in the way of sex ed either, I take it?”

She gasped, blushed, felt the heat rise quickly in her chest and throat and, yes, between her legs.

“Don’t worry,” Redding said, uncrossing his arms and gripping the edge of the desk as he leaned back. “It’s just as I said in class: you have to get used to these things, get comfortable talking about sex and bodies and vaginas and erections and ejaculation. If you’re not comfortable, then your patients aren’t going to be comfortable. As doctors, it’s our job to put them at ease.”

Redding spoke matter-of-factly, casual, as if he were discussing what to have for dinner. His candor helped put her at ease and she relaxed a little, setting her backpack on the floor next to her desk. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps talking about these things openly and objectively would help put some of her nerves at ...