Priapus

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Jake and Debbie were great friends. You could say they were best friends, except Debbie and Jake had lots of friends in common that could make the same claim. They all hung out together, ever since freshman year when they’d all met during orientation. They shared the same taste in everything; music, food, humor, smokeables, to name but a few, and they continued to hang out even after a lack of on campus housing after sophomore year turned them out into the surrounding neighborhoods. They sought out and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company constantly, religiously.

Now, as you can imagine, there were some minor complications that existed among this tight little group. While Jake and Debbie were great friends and probably did have more in common with each other than any other two people in this group, Debbie was dating Steve, and Steve loved Debbie, and it was one of those relationships that really worked in that weird sort of way. Nevertheless, Jake fought hourly with his desire to fuck the living shit out of Debbie.

Deborah Land had the kind of beauty that takes men’s breath away. When she smiled at them, they became putty in her hands. While she definitely knew how to use her feminine charms, she certainly didn’t abuse them. Debbie was a nice person, if a little mischievous, but there wasn’t a malicious cell in her body. She was every man’s dream. She was great with little children or old people. She was intelligent, witty, and oh so sexy. Her behavior at times bordered on down right sluttish, but she never crossed that line. She’d flirt and tease the hell out of anyone, but she’d always demure with a, “What sort of a girl do you think I am?” sort of response if anyone she’d been toying with happened to make advances.

As for her body, it was as I said, breathtaking. She had wonderfully upturned C-cup breasts that only needed a bra if there was a need to keep them from dancing around under a shirt. They certainly didn’t need assistance sitting up high and perky on her chest. She stood about 5’6″ on shapely, athletic legs that supported a butt that some may argue was way too big for her frame. Nevertheless, Debbie Land was hot! She was an art history major at the small liberal arts college they attended on the east coast, and she was getting ready to graduate in less than a week.

Jake Davidson was a rather beefy black man with a disarming smile. Though one thought football when first seeing him, it would be terribly prejudicial to assume that he fit any stereotypes associated with his race or the sports that he played. He was an English major, and while he did play football, wrestle, and play lacrosse, he did not fit neatly into the category of jock. Nor was this erudite young man in the least bit nerdy. No, Jake was a unique combination of many things, and that’s what allowed him to fit in so well with this group.

Debbie certainly did enjoy his company, so much so in fact that people wondered whether or not they were lovers. They weren’t. They were friends. Good friends. And friends don’t do those kinds of things with each other or they can’t be friends. I think that was one of the themes from the film “When Harry Met Sally.” Besides, Steve, Debbie’s boyfriend, was Jake’s best friend (except for Debbie of course).

Anyway, Dr. Penelope Stamford, PhD, art history guru and head of the art history department at the school was hosting her annual end of the year cocktail party that she throws for all the graduating art history majors at her house. Well, it’s not really a house. It’s more like a huge fucking mansion, but it’s located within walking distance of the campus and the party is always catered and very posh. Curators and directors of various museums from around town and around the world are always invited. It’s a big deal for the students involved and for the college. And it just so happened that the party was the same night that Steve’s little brother was playing in a championship lacrosse game back home, and since it was also Steve’s alma mater and only an hour’s drive away, Steve asked Jake to be Debbie’s date for the party. Jake pretended to hesitate as if thinking about how much of an imposition it would be, while inside he was suppressing his glee.

Jake looked dapper in his dark suit. When he put his sunglasses on he looked like he was Debbie’s bodyguard and she was some Hollywood starlet. She wore a black pleated cocktail dress that was cinched just below her boobs and hung loosely all around to just about mid thigh. Spaghetti straps crossed in the back which was cut symmetrically to the front. Three inch heeled black sandals were barely attached to her feet, and her hair was up and tightly secured in a sweeping sort of bun. A single strand of delicate pearls adorned her long neck. Her little matching black clutch held her phone, lipstick, a lighter and a joint. Debbie and Jake arrived on time and enjoyed themselves immensely.

It was close to midnight, and all of the champagne and caviar they’d consumed was calling for a stabilizing joint to smooth canlı bahis şirketleri things out. Debbie texted Jake, “Wanna blow a joint? Meet me in the kitchen.” In no time they found a door to the basement and went searching for a back door out of which they could blow the smoke.

The basement was like a labyrinth, but they found a door that led to a flight of cement stairs below long wooden cellar doors. They sat on the steps smoking the joint and talking about how totally cool this party had been. Finally, as it often did with people who are comfortable with one another, the conversation turned sexual.

“Smokin’ weed always makes me horny,” said Debbie, spitting a piece of stem off her lower lip.

“I think it’s the champagne,” said Jake.

“How would you fuckin’ know what gets me horny?” she giggled.

“Good point,” smiled Jake. He didn’t need to know she was horny. Now he was really struggling with his obsessive thoughts. “Hey, let’s go snooping! This place is like a fucking museum!”

So, off they went wandering about the basement looking into every room, closet, cupboard, and pantry. They went back upstairs, slinking about throughout the house like a couple of secret agents enjoying the art work that made every room a separate little gallery. Everywhere they went they were never out of earshot of the music being played by the chamber orchestra that had been set up in the parlor. It added, at once, an appropriate yet surreal air to the entire atmosphere as they explored broom closets, played with the dumb waiters, and dropped their napkins down the laundry chute. Finally, in a bold intrusion into the private life of Dr. Penelope Stamford, Debbie and Jake entered her bedroom; the master bedroom.

The room was clearly the most beautiful room in the house. It was huge. In it was a full walk-in bathroom that could have held a baby grand piano and not been crowded. There were two walk-in closets, one with rack upon rack of clothing that could have come from Jackie Kennedy’s closet. The other was a shrine to Priapus.

“Who?” asked Jake.

“Priapus, a minor Roman deity who looked out for the harvest and could ward off the evil eye,” said Debbie turning on the light and illuminating several glass-encased pedestals and paintings that surrounded the room.

“Wow, was this guy ever well hung!” exclaimed Jake looking at a painting of a bearded, helmeted man leaning against the wall and holding scales like the one held by lady justice. On one dish of the scale were weights, while on the other the man had laid his semi-erect penis; all thirteen inches of it. And it was not circumcised. The caption to the painting read, “Priapus Weighing His Phallus”.

“Yes, he was legendary,” said Debbie shaking her head. “Too bad there aren’t cocks that big in real life!” she said, patting Jake on the back and squeezing his shoulder for emphasis.

“Mine’s that big,” said Jake.

“Yeah, right,” said Debbie.

“Well, maybe not quite that large, but it is big. Wanna see?” joked Jake, grabbing his package for emphasis.

Debbie didn’t answer because her attention was on the next display cabinet. In it was a small marble figurine of a bearded man that stood about four inches high. The figurine had a huge phallus that was grossly disproportionate to its size and stood out from the figure a good six inches. It was anatomically correct with veins and a flared cock head complete with a pee hole.

“This was probably used as a dildo with the figurine doubling as a handle,” she explained.

“You’re quite knowledgeable about these things,” said Jake, squatting down to get a better look.

Debbie bent at the waist next to Jake with her hands on her knees. The back of her dress rode up revealing the backs of her smooth, naked thighs. Jake allowed his eyes to caress her legs as she spoke.

“I will graduate with an art history degree you know,” she reminded Jake and moved to the next display case.

In the next case there stood a twelve inch figure of a bearded man. He had a very thick and impressive erection curving upwards like a huge banana. The figure had his left hand on his hip, his pelvis was thrust forward, while his right hand poured a liquid from a jar onto the head of his up-turned erection. The figure’s features were properly proportioned suggesting that there was no distortion in the massive girth of his cock.

“How considerate of him to lube that thing up before he tries to use it,” quipped Jake.

“You’re not kidding. Too bad cocks don’t get that fat.”

“I keep telling you, mine’s that thick!”

“Nobody’s that big, Jake. These are artistic representations.”

“So why do you keep saying it’s a shame? If they can’t grow them that big, you’d certainly never be able to handle one that big,” said Jake, a little annoyed.

“Oh, you have no idea!”

“Oh, I have every idea! I just wish I had the ‘knowledge’.”

“I know you do, but you’re too good a friend and I can’t afford to loose you for canlı kaçak iddaa that,” she smiled and caressed his cheek lovingly.

They wandered about the “gallery” looking at the other artistic representations of Priapus. One painting showed two pleasingly plump ladies helping each other achieve pleasure by making out with a life-sized relief sculpture of Priapus. One girl had her buttocks firmly pressed into the sculpture just below where his erection would be, while the other sat astride her back, facing the sculpture, with her hands wrapped around its head as she kissed his image. The girl on top looked as if she could have the statue’s erection buried deep in her pussy. It also looked like she could just be rubbing her goodies on top of the stone phallus without penetration. The artist left it up to the viewer’s discretion.

“These two sure seem to be enjoying themselves,” said Jake.

“Girls like big cocks,” said Debbie as if a matter of fact.

Jake looked at her but didn’t say a word. She smiled a coy little smile at him and then walked to the back of the closet where there were drapes spanning the entire back wall.

“I wonder what’s behind here?” asked Debbie, parting the drapes at the middle.

Jake had found a pull cord near the wall and drew back the curtains. There on a four inch pedestal stood a life-sized statue of a man meticulously sculpted out of black basalt. Jake flicked a light switch by the wall and the entire figure was bathed in light from the track lighting positioned over head.

“Oh my god…” said Debbie, her mouth falling open in disbelief.

Debbie was face to face with a beautifully carved, anatomically correct statue of a bald black man holding on to the base of a massive erection. His thumb and forefinger circled his organ at the base while the rest of his fingers splayed to cradle his balls. A good 12 or 13 inches of solid basalt angled upward from the figure’s hips that were thrust forward as if at the very moment of ejaculation. His head was thrust back and his mouth was open, silently bellowing his release. The hand not holding his phallus was thrust out to the side as if maintaining his balance. Like Michelangelo’s David, every vein, fingernail, and wrinkle had been meticulously carved into this amazingly detailed sculpture.

“Hey, that’s Mandingo!”

“What? Who?”

“Or Sean Michaels,” said Jake walking over to get a better look.

“You know this guy?” asked Debbie.

“Yup, like I said first, it’s Mandingo!” said Jake, reading the little bronze plaque on the base.

“Who’s that,” said Debbie as she walked forward and lay a single finger on the tip of the figure’s upturned cock.

“He’s a porn star, considered the biggest in the business.”

“Oh, so you don’t actually know him know him. You know of him.”

“Yeah, see. I told you cocks could get that big,” said Jake, wrapping his own massive hand around the stone cock.

“So, is yours that big?” asked Debbie with a smile.

“I wish,” said Jake walking around behind the free standing sculpture. “This guy’s a freak of nature, even as far as brothers are concerned.”

“I can see that,” whispered Debbie as she lovingly stroked that massive stone phallus in front of her.

“I guess Dr. Stamford knows and appreciates Mandingo’s work!” laughed Jake.

“Oh my god, you don’t think she…” Debbie’s voice tailed off as both tried to envision what possible activities played out in this little shrine of a closet.

“You think Stamford fucks this thing,” asked Jake smiling.

“Why else would she even have it?”

“Yeah, but how much of it do you think she can take?”

“I doubt she really cares, just as long as it gets her off,” said Debbie not taking her eyes off of it.

“You’d try to fuck this thing if you owned it?”

“Are you kidding? I want to try it right now! Go watch the door for me.”

“No way, you’re crazy.”

“I bet I can take this whole cock in my pussy.”

Jake stood bewildered. He watched as Debbie circled the statue and planned her assault. He wished he was the one she was drooling to fuck instead of this statue. He wondered about her motivations. What was she after? Could she really be that horny? Did she do this sort of thing when she went out with Steve? Jake’s mind was racing around and around these questions. Finally, in a moment of clarity he decided not to question it. Jake decided to go with it and call her bluff.

“Bullshit,” he said defiantly.

Debbie noticed the slight change in the tone of Jake’s voice. That one word came out of his mouth with a much more serious tone, challenging. Debbie’s eyes narrowed as she looked back into Jake’s. The challenge was accepted. She loosened her grip on the stone phallus and slinked over to Jake, never once loosing eye contact. Standing toe to toe, she opened her mouth seductively as if about to kiss him. Her face drew nearer to his until the last moment when she by passed his lips and pressed her self against canlı kaçak bahis him, her cheek next to his, to whisper in his ear.

“Got a condom?”

Jake pulled a gold foil packet from his back pocket and dangled it over Debbie’s face.

“Ooh, Magnums!” squealed Debbie in mock surprise as she plucked the packet from his fingers. She turned quickly, ripping the foil open with her teeth. Stretching the pre-lubed condom to fit over the head of the massive stone penis, she rolled the rest of it down over the shaft. Only about two thirds of the phallus was then sheathed in latex. Both Debbie and Jake looked at each other in shared awe.

Debbie turned and bent at the waist. With her hands on her knees she walked backwards with tiny baby steps until the stone erection seated itself in the groove of her upturned butt cheeks. Jake pulled out his cell phone and quickly snapped a picture as Debbie smiled at the camera while continuing to caress the underside of the statue’s cock with her butt.

“Go watch the door,” said Debbie teetering on her tip toes to try to bring her pussy up to the level of the stone cock.

“I wanna watch, I wanna see if you can do it,” complained Jake.

“No way. I’ll tell you if I’m successful,” said Debbie, standing and placing her hands on her hips defiantly. Finally, Jake walked to guard the bedroom door.

Debbie resumed her attempts to impale herself on the intricately detailed stone appendage. She positioned herself again in front of the statue, but try as she may, the four inch pedestal on which the statue stood kept her from achieving her goal. She needed another two inches to stand on to make the connection. She looked around for assistance and found it in a shoe box on the floor by the light switch behind the curtain.

Inside the box Debbie found a pair of clear platform fuck-me slippers. She kicked off her own shoes and slid on the Lucite platforms. Instantly she was four inches taller. Combined with the even higher heels than her own shoes, her butt was now thrust even more outward, further accentuating its bulbous size.

Working up a mouthful of saliva, Debbie let a wad of white, bubbly spittle slip from her lips and settle slowly on the condom covered head of the figure’s erection. Quickly before it had a chance to drip off she turned around, flipped her skirt up onto her back, pulled her gooey thong out of the cleft of her pussy, and tried to position her dangling pussy lips over the head. But again she came up short, pressing the flesh just below her asshole onto the saliva covered phallus.

There was nothing to hold onto to maintain her balance. She raised up on her tip-toes and was able to feel the large head press against the very bottom of her pussy before sliding up and pushing firmly against her clenched sphincter. While it felt really good, she needed to get this monster into her pussy. She kept flexing her calves and thighs trying to achieve a rhythm that could push her up and over the top. The constant rubbing against her asshole was making her pussy fill up with pussy juice. Finally, with one explosive lurch, her hips lifted high enough for the stone phallus to enter her soupy pussy. Debbie slid completely down onto the stone statue’s upturned cock forcing the air from within with a gurgling fart. Unfortunately, impaled as she was, she now could not move. The stone phallus completely filled her vagina and her toes barely touched the floor. She was stuck.

“Fuck!” hissed Debbie as her pussy muscles rippled and contracted around the huge cock stuffed in her. She wanted to grind her pussy back and forth over the rigid fuck stick until she came, but she couldn’t move. She wished the stone statue could come to life, grab her hips, and fuck her good and hard. Instead, she dangled helplessly on its cock. She had no choice but to call for help.

“Jake!” she called out in a strangled whisper. Jake opened the closet door and popped his head in. He had obviously been standing closer to the closet door than the bedroom door.

“Oh my god!” exclaimed Jake as he walked in to get a closer look.

“Jake, I’m stuck. Help me,” pleaded Debbie, holding out her arms to him. But Jake walked right past her to get the view from the rear.

“Holy shit,” whispered Jake when he’d bent to get a better view.

“No, Jake. Please…” protested Debbie trying to flip her skirt back into place to re-establish some modesty. But it was way too late for modesty now. Jake’s mouth dropped open as he drank in the vision of Debbie’s fat, shaved pussy stretched to the limit around a jet black cock of ginormous proportions. A single droplet of pussy juice squeezed from her overstuffed cunt left a white trail down the remaining bit of black shaft left exposed, and dangled from Mandingo’s stone little finger.

“Damn, girl…” moaned Jake, licking his lips. He couldn’t take his eyes off of what he was seeing. His own cock grew painfully harder than it had been all night, and yes, he had had a hard on since he picked up Debbie to walk to the party. Her sphincter flexed, the round globes of naked flesh jiggled in the flood light, and another bubble of pussy juice emerged from her pussy and followed the path of least resistance already established and now dripping on the floor.

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