The Imprint Ch. 10: The Bigger Cunt

Ass

The Imprint ch 10 The Bigger Cunt

Lying on her side alongside me after a vigorous work out, relaxing, supporting her head with the palm of her hand, ‘Becca, with a glimmer in her eye, accused me of fixating on the contours of her mammary glands. “Human mammary glands,” `Becca’s expression went distant; her tone was impersonal as if she were teaching an auditorium packed with students, “are not a sexual organ, but a secondary sexual characteristic engendered by higher levels of estrogen widens the pelvis and increases body fat in coxa (hips), thighs, gluteal prominence or butt as well as the breasts. Unfortunately, in my case the hormone estrogen sent a bit too much prominence to my gluteal weights.”

“Tall, long legged and thin waisted you are not,” I replied, but braless, undraped …”

Shaking her head, `Becca cut me off, “short and plump with a butterball shape.”

“But,” I assured her, “your breasts and erect nipples, the special trait I am privileged to appreciate.”

“Men are not alone in rating,” `Becca continued to instruct me, “females by buxom busts which titillate. Ladies too are agape,” she snickered, “at busty babes in the pink of health, with double DDs, functional appendages, gals impressed by hearty pair of ‘boy magnets.'”

I laughed. “you are something else.”

“Am,” A dreamy look crossed her face as she posed the question, “I the saintly Madonna you worship and bless or fun-loving friend you want to do naughtiness with, Pollyanna or,” her tone turned harsh, “the Bigger Cunt you must caress.” She leaned into me for a kiss.

My dual life presented some interesting challenges. After the pre-trial deposition of Dr Rebecca Barton accuser and former roommate Erica Ehrlich, I began work on my motion to dismiss the malpractise claim against Dr Rebecca Barton. During the day, I was Dr Rebecca Barton’s attorney in an unusual malpractise action brought by her former roommate law student Erica Ehrlich. Five nights a week, `Becca and I came together.

Whenever on our evenings at the dinner table together, `Becca, leaning over me in her flimsy white collared pink robe, she changed into as soon as she arrived home, expressed interest in the work I was performing on her case, I’d tell her, “a good writer doesn’t disclose his masterpiece until he’s ready to publish.”

Sulking, `Becca pulled back before I could untie the belt and gaze up those delicious double DD breasts.

`Becca complained, “Erica, my roommate, and I had great fun together. I took her in when she needed a place to stay. I got her a job when she needed money.”

“As an anatomical model,” I chuckled, “same as you did for me.” In a way I had come to recognize that I had replaced Erica in `Becca’s private world. I was dealing with how ` Becca’s time with her former friend Erica ended. The thought crossed my mind just how would `Becca break my ties with her? I dismissed the thought.

Did `Becca blame Erica for the way their friendship ended? Outwardly, for my benefit, `Becca did. “And now, Erica blames me,” `Becca re-echoed her familiar plaint, “for an attack in a dangerous area over on Central Avenue. Yes, I was running an emergency drill there. I thought she’d pick me up. I’d have treated her to dinner. At 6PM, having waited long enough, I accepted Fire rescue’s offer of a ride and I left. What are you doing to save your princess in distress?”

“Interesting way to con-screw the facts,” I chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that version when I put together the papers together. Just who is the damsel in distress, you or Erica that’s the question.”

“Erica is trying to torture me by becoming the bigger cunt,” `Becca pouted.

“Much as I find the cunt laying with me warm and wonderful,” I sighed, “I need that expert psychological report, based upon a reading Ehrlich’s deposition testimony and medical records concluding that Ms Ehrlich’s account is inherently suspect.”

“And you think that a report labeling Erica,” `Becca shook her head, “`an Histrionic — Narcissistic personality, drama queen, who under the influence of a barbiturate, can produce interesting hallucinations, phantasms cannot render a reliable account’ would kill the case?”

“How kaynarca escort it would fit together with my argument for dismissal,” I declined to reveal my strategy, “is up for discussion at a later time. Now, you’ll have to take it on faith.”

“Faith is a hard thing for me,” `Becca admitted, “You have given me a tall order a cross disciplinary expert in forensic toxicology and psychiatry.”

“Oh, it’s your med school classmate who, in a third – year med school prank, jabbed you with a needle, whose long fingernails scratched you when she stripped you naked, and bedded you down with a man you detested. Erica Ehrlich testified she picked up, gave you her coat and drove you home. Ms Ehrlich thought the assault on her was a prank to get even for laughing at you.”

“To get out of this quandary,” `Becca sighed, “I’m exposing an episode I’d prefer forgotten.”

“And I’m sure your classmate, the psychologist — slash — toxicologist, appreciates your willingness to forget her involvement in a silly prank.” I reminded `Becca, “you are the bigger cunt. There should be no problem wrenching that report out of your psychologist friend.”

“Psychiatrist,” `Becca abruptly corrected me, “A psychologist is not a medical doctor.”

“Arrogant status conscious cunt,” I teased her, “rescued from the kitchen by the Push — Ahead — Program.”

Pouting `Becca barked the order, “Into the bedroom, clothes off,” she snickered, “stand at attention. When you’re ready, lights out. I’ll show you who’s the biggest cunt.”

Once the light was out, `Becca’d breeze in her light pink robe with a frilly white collar. Undoing the belt, `Becca would push me back if I tried to embrace her. Parting the fluffy trim of her robe, buxom `Becca, boobs dangling and jelly belly bouncing, would demand I whip myself up into six solid frenzied inches.

“Looking at you is enough,” I responded as I began to gently stroke my shaft.

“I’m a butterball,” `Becca declared, “To roast a butterball, you have to turn up the heat before you plant that spit inside me. Tell me who’s the bigger cunt!”

“That’s a naughty word,” I chided her.

`Becca allowed the robe to slip off her shoulders and fall to the floor. “Work it!” she pointed to my penis. At her command I more furiously slid the shaft skin over the shaft bringing my penis to a state of semi — rigidity. `Becca was unimpressed, “I told you to stand at attention. While I note the beginnings of tumescence in vasodilation, eh–increased blood flow engorging the corpora cavernosa and the corpus spongiosum, running along the length of the penis …”

I involuntarily laughed. “Did you ever think you could write some humorous porn with medical terms?”

A flash of surprise struck her face. “You’ve got beauty and brains before you,” she spoke with inflated astonishment. “Yet, with the flaccid state of that penis, how is it worth my while to disrobe and present my body in front of you?”

“Perhaps,” I suggested as I dangled my penis in front of her, “if you’d kiss it, you could make it better…”

“Silence!” she commanded, “Until spoken to. We need to work on attaining and retaining tumescence to sufficiently prolong your erective capacity so that I might enjoy debasing myself by affording your penis access to my internal genitalia. Kneel before me to worship my cunt and the treat that await you.”

Both knees bent, I looked up at her massive mammaries. Her erect nipples pointed at me. I could feel my penis harden. Heavy hands fell on my head pushing my nose against her mound. Instinctively, my hands gripped her butt cheeks; my tongue lapped around her vaginal lips until it found her clit. “Continue to osculate the clitoris.”

I had to break off contact to laugh. Swatted on the head, I resumed lathering her entrepot with my tongue as she roared, “I’m the bigger cunt who want to test how far you can go.” Kissing me on the head, a softer voice provided, “a translation from medical — ese.” Removing my right hand digging into her left butt cheek, she ordered, “Palpate the penis,” I a softer tone she whispered, “Give yourself a hand job!”

She released her hands from my head. Balancing herself as orhanlı escort she swayed, by grasping my shoulders, she sighed, “How did lower myself to accept you for my amusement?” She breathed in heavily. “Oh, you drove me home from an early morning eh–procedure at the hospital. I was in scrubs with haz-mat boots–my street clothes had been sent to the cleaners; you arrived in pajama bottoms.”

I looked up at her blossoming belly and bountiful breasts. Playfully whacking me on the back of the head, she ordered me back to work.

“I needed to get the scrubs off,” `Becca recalled, “They were rather stiff and uncomfortable without underwear. I agreed to leave my bedroom door ajar while you remained in the kitchen and asked questions about my former roommate’s claim of having walked onto the set of a disaster training exercise.”

Yes, I remembered. As she entered her bedroom, `Becca turned to me with the request “Can I trust you while I lift off this scratchy top?”.

Working the muscles of my shoulder, `Becca hoped my penis was as rock sold as the muscularity of my shoulders. “Ah, yes, out of the corner of my eye,” ‘Becca recalled, “I appreciated your oculi following every undulation of my dangling mammaries (breasts).”

With a sigh, I looked up at her and confessed, “The spell was cast with every gentle rise and fall of bulbous breasts. How could I avoid fixation with erect nipples hanging from such a magnificent superstructure? After gazing on them, it’s a struggle to reconnect with my brain.”

`Becca reminded me, “Erica my former friend and roommate used to say she and I combined would make the ideal stripper, she with the long legs and slender waist, me with the bazooms that steals men’s souls. Stand up, let me see how far along you are.”

I was jittery as I rose to my feet. I could feel my penis throb. I looked down. In a didactic, distant tone, `Becca described my condition, “Notice that blue streak across the ventral surface of the penis. Vasodilation, increased blood flow through the dilated pudendal artery meets constricted veins limiting outward blood flow and the penis to enlarge, the scrotum stretched tighter, and the testicles pulled up against the body.”

I pled with `Becca not to touch me. “I might cum.,”

“Hold it for a moment,” A churlish smile appeared on her face, “On the bed on your back, hands behind your head,” `Becca commanded. Mounting me, she gently guided my penis inside allowing me to penetrate to the hilt. Slowly raising herself, she descended with an exclamation, “One Mississippi.” Spring back up, `Becca continued to pump me.

At 10 Mississippi, I felt my penis hyper-extending. “I’m cumming,” I exclaimed.

Plopping down on my penis, grinding her pelvis into mine and holding my shoulders against the bed with her hands, `Becca titillated me by rubbing her nipples against my chest as my throbbing penis reached its final stage of erection.

“Do you remember how we connected the first time? Suggesting quite a bit more than,” her voice slipped in a higher octave, “I intend to deliver,” breathing heavily she continued, I claimed your soul.

“The brain fever,” I grunted as I spasms released my ejaculate in spurts, “hit me.”

“Oh, that wild look, a symptom of hormone indued Encephalopathy, a dreaded diffuse disease that alters brain function!” `Becca declared.

“How did you come by counting by Mississippi-s?” I chucked, “I don’t imagine there was much touch football at home in the `mean streets'” I snickered, “of stately Clintonville Manor or in the auditorium of your convent school.”

“Perhaps, not,” Becca conceded, “much talk about touch football but plenty of talk about touching and boys.” A dreamy look crossed her face. “I remember girls in the shower at the convent school showing off dental lacerations,” snickering she raised her eyebrows, “teeth marks, hickeys, on their mammaries, eh — boy magnets like a merit badge. They’d talk of the wild eyes that accompanied the brain fever while they palpated — lugged their boyfriend’s penis eh–dick.”

“The first time we came together you were teasing me,” I asked, “to see what I’d do?”

“Hmm, one minute,” `Becca reminisced, tepeören escort “You were helping me remove my boots and the next my epidermis tingled when you swept away the bottoms of my scrubs, flipped me on my belly, lifted me by my thighs and penetrated (entered) me.”

“You enjoyed yourself, pushing back to draw me in deeper.” I protested, “But now you won’t do it doggy style.”

“Hormones overrode grey matter,” `Becca, moving to lie beside me, supporting her head with her arm, presenting her bare boobs to my inspection, replied, “You took me by surprise — a pleasant surprise. Intrigued by your ardor, I cooperated. I lifted my gluteal prominence,” she raised her eyebrows, “eh butt to allow the bottoms to slip away. The gaze in your oculi eh–eyes when you paused to study at my freshly shaved pubes,” she enticingly giggled, “eh–pussy told me you liked what you saw.”

“Doggy style is the natural position all mammals use to come together,” I protested.

“Interesting comment on comparative anatomy!” She exclaimed, “It has an overriding significance,” We both chuckled the double entend in `Becca’s assertion. “Laid face down on my abdomen connotes submission or adoration,” `Becca explained, “rear penetration reduces me to a position of inferiority and deprives me of control.”

“A pretense to supreme power, absolute authority, unquestionable mastery,” I replied, “leads to the impervious failure to appreciate the dangers and consequences of your actions.”

“Hmm,” `Becca thought aloud, “you may have explained my current quandary.” After a reflective pause `Becca demanded to know, “So tell me, how will you rescue your princess in distress.”

“Princess in Destress or Wild Witch of the West!” I exclaimed, “regardless you’ll be the bigger cunt, I’m sure. That report,” I insisted, “will give me the right button words to describe your ex –,” I studied `Becca for reaction before I added, “roommate as an Histrionic — Narcissistic personality (HNP). Under the influence of a barbiturate, she hallucinated. Her account is not reliable account.”

Wiggling her shoulders sending her boobs swaying, `Becca nestled up to me to whisper “ready to start again?”

Mounting me, she lowered her body over my penis. “Hmm, this needs a little work.” Grabbing my flaccid projectile, she lectured, After orgasm, the male’s musculature relaxes, blood pressure subsides … A refractory period of 20 minutes or longer sets in. The male is less responsive to sexual stimulation. By comparison, the female,” a wicked smile bloomed on `Becca’s face, “is ready right away..”

Her breathing became heavier. I could feel my body stiffen. She continued to lecture as if she was addressing an audience full of students, “However, palpating the shaft of the penis, a sensitive nerve rich erogenous zone, may assist a male partner rise to the challenge.” Leaning forward rubbing noses with me, `Becca suggested, “Lets see if we can get it up and keep it up to 20 Mississippi this time.”

“Your boobs bounce and your tits titillate when you ride me like a cow girl breaking a wild bronc,” I exclaimed as she mounted me and massaged my penis.”

“Let’s get this rubbery eel hard enough to tuck inside,” Breathing deeply, she asked, “Did I tell you how I got even with my classmates who said I was headed for the nunnery because no guy would want me.”

“They were wrong,” I started to maul her dangling breasts.

“On a weekend home, away from class, I’d have been remiss if I hadn’t forced my brother Josh to bite my ass, with perfect precision, a neat puncture in the epidermis,” smiling `Becca reminisced, “Monday in school to the shower sirens, I displayed the incision. I was blunt, ‘Let’s be fair. Unless your guy is ready out in front to kiss your derriere, how could you be the bigger cunt?'”

She laughed as she fell into her rhythmic undulations, “Five Mississippi — ugh “Six Mississippi.” Raising her body and falling in cadence, `Becca counted as she pumped me, “Nine Mississippi — ugh — Ten Mississippi.”

I probably shouldn’t have joined her in laughter. She could be the bigger cunt but I saw ` Becca through hormone afflicted eyes fogged with love. We were breathing heavily in synch when my penis hyper extended deep inside warm, wonderful, butterball `Becca. “Life is beautiful, `Becca declared when her count of ‘Mississippis’ reached 15. “Just a little while longer,” she urged me, “Ain’t I the Bigger Cunt?”

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