1969 : Part one

He grabbed the jar of Vaseline that was left out, switched on the bright halogen lights and walked over behind Melissa. He had her go down to the bend of the couch units, where she could lay across diagonally. Then she pushed out her ass and spread apart those legs again.
Martin realized that would allow any attentive residence hall people to see partially from the side. He greased her directly with the rest of the Vaseline that he had in his hand. Even though she was bigger, she could still identify his large mushroom penis head as it came into her.

He was amazed at how wide and deep she felt now. Within minutes, he was fucking with more than he had ever fucked her with. He was able to grab her hips this time, and pull back strongly just as he poked the penis deeper into her. He admired the work of his two friends. It was up to him to take things farther, and end the evening “big” time. One of the other two started playing some R&B music in the other room (Marvin Gaye ?). Good mood music; however, he did have his own count for thrusts, twists, and overall effective Jezebel reaming.

He started slamming into her. That produced slaps, smacks, pops and screams. He really was on track for his own ritualistic contribution. Sometimes, zoned out in space, and stoned on the good smoke, he even forgot who he was fucking at that moment. Rather he saw himself punching, poking and in almost all directions stretching a vagina into a loose bag. Then he would flash back just as fast, and find out he had been doing and was doing all that for real - to Melissa

Of course, all the earlier tears were opened and she slightly trickled down both legs. She knew that was going to happen, ignored it, and pushed hard back onto Martin. She was determined to be a part of this action, action she considered hundreds of times better than fucking her husband. He reached down and spread her ass cheeks. There, for anyone watching, was a bright red opening that was easily shoved into any direction (since his imagination had been working in reality). He pulled out for a second and spread her lips. She still had a general star design. But, Martin did not know it at the time, it was larger in all dimensions than when Robert checked it out.
He went back into her with force. She spent her time squealing, bucking, shaking all over and generally cuming too many times to count. He tossed her left leg over the top of the couch. Now she only had one blue high heel on the floor. With her left leg spread wide, he was able to get in still deeper. It was sort of like a modified scissors, only standing. He grabbed her pelvis again, and with the new angle pulled back strongly. He buried himself and held her little ass on his base. With her like that, he literally screwed. Melissa was stretched smoothly through a whole 360 degrees. When she started to ooze a little onto the pleather couch, he decided to move her over to the lounge.

He just picked her up, still stuck on his penis, and carried her over to it. When he got there, he considered working that same position longer, but, instead decided to put her into a standard missionary position. He turned her around, laid her on her back, grabbed both of her knees, spread them to her gymnastic maximum, and went up the middle and straight into her. Now he was giving deep grunts as he hit so hard and gave such extra effort before and after each hit. Her little 100+ pound body jerked and quivered all over with each single hit. He pumped ever faster, then came in her, holding himself at maximum depth and twisting every last drop out. A large amount of white came out of her, layered over pink.

Still breathing fast and heavy, she dropped her arms and legs to the sides of the lounge. He began pulling out that huge penis. To Martin, it looked like he expected it look at the start of any Jezebel reaming ritual. And he thought Melissa looked like she was supposed to look, with a now very wide, very red vaginal opening that took up a much larger fraction of her pelvis than when she started. But, in Melissa’s case, this more standard opening had been transferred into the smallest and lightest colored body that he had ever seen it done to. He spread her lips apart, for his curiosity and any lenses that might be focused on her. Two flaps of the star shape were gone. What was left was a fairly ragged opening that was not unlike what many women have after long experience in this world. But the 26 year old Melissa was radically different than she had been this morning. Her husband had not yet been gone 24 hours, and, already, her vagina had become far too large for his penis to ever work properly in her again.

Scheduled Workouts

Melissa sat up after Martin was done. She pulled him over and kissed him on the cheek. Maybe it was her jock history as a gymnast, her present conditioning, the power of her own personality or a nebulous combination, but she was casual about any bleeding. She was in no hurry to run to a bathroom. With her chin on her knee, in a very modified ‘Thinker’ pose, she said to Martin,
“That was everything. All of you were bigger than I thought any man could be. The sex felt incredibly good. And then it hurt a lot. It was wonderful, and an ultimate pleasure. It was scary and painful. I feel like every sensation was there.”

Martin, “You’re a special woman, Melissa. I do not know how you came to understand that all those types of sensations are necessary.”

“I was thinking about things very similar, before you came along with your Jezebel stories. When you arrived, with your stories, your rituals and your big penis, or should I say penises,” She looks to the other room where Christopher and Robert are calmly sitting. “then it seemed that I could try to make fantasy a reality. Sure seems real to me now ”

He gathered his clothing. She continued to sit in the bright light, nude, with her red opening and red stained sheet; she looked up at the hall and gave another wave. As she finally moved away and threw the light switch and headed to the bathroom, she bent over, opened her labia and said,
“Oh, my... How often do I need to go through this to stay big or get bigger?”

“Once a week should keep things going. But we usually find many more of our friends who want to join in fucking the woman. We have had women who had such sex every day of the week.”

“More guys?”

“Of course. Remember you saw photos of more than 12 men working on that one woman.”

“You don’t have that many Nigerian guys over here, in the states, going to school at this university.”

“No, but, within 60 miles, and just drawing upon other university students who are at least mild acquaintances, I might be able to find more than a dozen new men for you. It is important to put many different men inside you, as often as possible.”

“I get it. A whore, and a well used one. Lots of guys. Lots of guys who are big? This is more wild than I thought. At least once a week, huh? My pussy hurts now. But I bet I could work up to fucking with a few guys at least three times per week. Would that help?”

“Certainly. A perfect attitude, from a perfect little devil.”

After his last comment, Melissa went to the bathroom, then gathered the pieces of her outfit upstairs, put the outfit on and headed for her car. With her lab manager planning skills, she had prepared for that ride home. For in that car was a small igloo ice chest, full of ice. Central within the ice was a glass dildo. She slipped it in and drove home.

NOTE: this has been part one of 1969. You must read 1969 part two, to find out what happens to Melissa.