Curtis' Services (Part #3)

In the third part of this story, 18-year-old Curtis Murdoch is asked to share his sexual prowess again--but this time it is with a surprisingly oversexed girl!

Introduction

This is the third installment in a series of stories about Curtis Murdoch. (You are encouraged to read both previous stories in their entirety.) Curtis is a boy blessed with a male appendage noticeably larger than those of his peers. From age 12 onward, Curtis has liberally used it to please any female classmates who asked to sample it. At age 18, he received a special request from his mother’s friend to please her lonely 18-year-old daughter. Curtis did such a good job that the girl’s mother recommended him to other friends who also had lonely or shy daughters. Curtis is working his way down the list—and enjoying every second of it.

Part One

I was certainly enjoying being in demand. It was flattering to have been recruited by two mothers to satisfy their lonely daughters’ sexual desires. I was eager to contact the next name on the list that I had received from Clara Chatsworth a few days earlier. She had given it to me after I had merrily screwed her daughter, Penny, coming three times in the process. It was a Mrs. Eagles. I intended to stay busy with my carnal services, so I phoned her on Tuesday night, about 24 hours after bedding Annette Madigan, who was also a delightful bedmate.

When a woman picked up the phone on the second ring, I said, “Hello, we’ve never met before, but my name is Curtis Murdoch and I…”

I was quickly interrupted. “Wow! It’s you. This is great! I was hoping you’d call,” Mrs. Eagles said. “I have a daughter named Monica who is becoming quite a handful.”

Mrs. Eagles explained at length that unlike the previous two mothers, her daughter, Monica, was not lacking male companionship—she was overdoing it. She was becoming a problem at her school because she spent most of her time actively pursuing boys instead of doing schoolwork. (Of course, the boys had no objections at all to Monica’s activities.) Mrs. Eagles said her husband had been the disciplinarian in the household, but he had left her three years ago. She was having difficulty making Monica conform to rules.

I was confused. “So what do you need me for?” I asked. “I generally get contacted by socially awkward or sex-starved girls and their mothers, not by girls who usually get plenty of sex.”

Mrs. Eagles replied, “Please take this as a compliment, Curtis. Monica has heard many positive things about you and your sexual prowess through the grapevine. She really wants to have a romp with you so she can experience it for herself. Therefore, I reluctantly made a deal with Monica. I said I’d try to arrange for you to bed her in exchange for two things: improving her school results, and slowing down her boy-chasing activities at school and elsewhere.”

“How can I not take that as a compliment?” I rhetorically asked. “I’m flattered.” Then I asked what I thought was a very innocent question: “Which high school does Monica attend?”

The answer I got from Mrs. Eagles completely floored me. I thought I had been thoroughly surprised a few days earlier when Mrs. Madigan had told me that her daughter Annette was a 14-year-old middle school pupil. The info I got from Mrs. Eagles about Monica put things at a completely different level.

“Holy smoke!” I said for the lack of any better way to respond to this startling news. Still, I was interested, of course. I liked new experiences—and bedding the overly promiscuous Monica Eagles would certainly fall into that category.

“I totally understand if you can’t comply, Curtis,” Mrs. Eagled said to me to break up the lengthy silence that had developed in our telephone conversation.

“I didn’t say that,” I quickly stated. “It just took me a moment or two to process what you just told me. Yeah, you can most definitely count me in.” I said in agreeing to make a carnal visit to Monica. Wednesday night at 7 p.m. was selected as the time.

“Monica will be thrilled, Curtis, when I tell her the news. Thanks in advance. I’ll see you at 7 o’clock on Wednesday evening.”

Part Two

I had more than 30 hours to wait for my meeting with Monica Eagles. I greatly anticipated it. On Wednesday afternoon, I told my mother I was going to service another girl from Mrs. Chatsworth’s list that night, but I did not go into specifics. Mom didn’t ask for any. Mom was so completely used to my busy sexual schedule by then that she neither approved nor objected. She just accepted my serial screwing as a normal part of my 18-year-old life. However, Mom did give me what I thought was an insincere, “Have fun!” as I left the house and made my way to the corner bus stop.

It was a shorter bus trip to the Eagles’ house than the last two crosstown trips I had made for screwing, so I was about 20 minutes early. I didn’t want to look especially eager—although I absolutely was—so I wandered around the neighborhood of Harrington Avenue to kill about a dozen of those minutes. Through her living room window, Mrs. Eagles spotted me pacing pointlessly.

She opened the door slightly. “Are you Curtis Murdoch?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I replied. “The bus I took got me here well early, so I was just taking a stroll until it was 7 p.m."

“Being early is okay. You are welcome to come inside now, Curtis,” I was told by Mrs. Eagles. “Don’t waste too much of your energy by aimlessly walking around. You might need it.” That last sentence was intended as a joke—and it did make me smile. Mrs. Eagles opened the front door fully and I stepped inside
.
This was the first of my three “house calls” where there was someone in the home other than the girl and her mother. Monica had an eight-year-old younger brother named Michael who was sitting in the middle of the family’s living room trying to create something with Lego bricks. I said hello to everyone including Michael. I feigned an interest in what he was doing. “Ah, Lego bricks! Those are great fun!” I said. “What are you building with them?”

“I won’t know until I’m done,” he said, never making eye contact with me.

“Yeah, I was like that too when I was your age,” I agreed. “I’d randomly snap a bunch of Lego bricks together until my imagination kicked in. Then I’d make something—an airplane, a fort, lots of different things. Those Lego bricks would occupy me for hours and hours.”

Michael didn’t reply so I refocused my attention onto his big sister, Monica. Facially, she looked very much like a schoolmate I’d had a decade before named Janice Lynn. I was tempted to ask Monica if her family and the Lynns were related, but it wasn’t that important. She was certainly a pretty girl, with an angelic face and dirty blonde hair that was cut reasonably short. Monica was dressed very casually. She was wearing a pink t-shirt with a unicorn on it, blue shorts, white socks and well-worn sneakers. She also had an enormous smile on her face. I could tell Monica was obviously looking forward to our upcoming sexual adventure, as was I. Monica rose from the chair she was sitting in and advanced toward me to give me an affectionate hug. I gladly reciprocated.

Mrs. Eagles made an official introduction. “Curtis Murdoch, the girl you are hugging is my daughter, Monica, also known as the harlot of Harrington Avenue.”

I was taken aback. What a thing to say about one’s own daughter—even if it was true!

“Mom!” Monica managed to say in her defense, but Mrs. Harrington was having none of it.

“Don’t bother to deny it, Monica! My daughter likes the company of males of all ages, races, and religions,” her mother stated. “She’s obsessed with them and is rather free in sharing her affections with all of them. She is exactly like her Aunt Cornelia was at her age. One day it’s a grade-eight boy. The next day it’s someone your age, Curtis. Just yesterday I saw her trying to get excessively friendly with a 30-year-old neighbor who lives across the street. I didn’t blame him at all, but I did put a stop to it. That’s why I made my deal with her. Curtis, I summoned you to give her a good fucking. In return, Monica has promised to pay more attention in school, be a better student, and cut down on her nonstop boy-chasing. Do we still have a deal, Monica?”

“Oh, yes, Mom. We still have a deal,” Monica responded. “I want to have a great fuck with Curtis. I just met him, but I like him already. He’s fun to hug. I bet he’ll be fun to fuck, too. Can we start right away, please, Mom?”

“Yes, Monica. Take Curtis into your bedroom and have at it!” Mrs. Eagles said with a slight air of resignation.

“You don’t want to watch?” I asked Mrs. Eagles. “The last two girls’ mothers both did.”

“Nah,” she said. “Based on your reputation, Curtis, I know you won’t do anything to hurt Monica, so I don’t need to observe.”

She was right. I wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt Monica, but I thought to myself there were certain physical realities where it might happen accidentally.

Monica grabbed me by my right hand. We had to step around Michael’s large piles of Lego bricks to exit the living room. He still didn’t make eye contact, but he nevertheless surprised me by saying, “Enjoy fucking my sister, Curtis. Everyone else seems to enjoy it.” When I was eight, I was certain I didn’t know what fucking was.

Part Three

Monica’s bedroom featured a bed that was a peculiar size. It was slightly larger than a single bed, but not quite the size of a double. It was covered with stuffed animals which Monica cavalierly pushed to the floor to make room for us. The walls of her bedroom were painted pink, but they were covered with posters of contemporary teen celebrities and musicians. I did not recognize a single one of them.

Monica got right down to business. “Let’s get undressed, Curtis!” she ordered me. I hadn’t even gotten one button undone on my shirt before Monica was sitting topless on her bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Hurry up, you slowpoke!” she chided me. “I can’t have sex by myself.” By the time I did remove my shirt, Monica was completely naked and had playfully tossed her white panties at me. I managed to catch them. They had a cute design featuring monkeys on them. For some reason, that seemed to suit Monica perfectly.

While I finished disrobing, Monica positioned herself on the center of her bed and started to sexily finger her vagina. It was utterly hairless. That had the desired effect on me. My penis was still trapped within the confines of my cotton briefs, but it was hard as a rock.

“Like what you see, Curtis?” she coyly asked me.

“Does this answer your question?” I replied as I dropped my underwear to the floor and exposed my large dick to Monica for the first time.

“Wow!” she said. “I think that’s the biggest one I’ve seen in my life. Honest, Curtis, I really think so.”

“Good! I plan on pleasing you with it. I know I’ll be pleased when I shove it inside your pretty little pussy.”

I quickly joined my precocious bedmate, snuggling up beside her. Monica was all hands. She stroked my dick with one hand, and caressed my testicles with the other. I was similarly occupied with her titties and her hairless pussy. I insisted on some kissing before we proceeded with any further sexual explorations.

Monica was puzzled. “Curtis, you are the only boy I’ve ever made out with who wanted to kiss instead of fuck. I don’t think that’s normal—not at all.”

I laughed and said, “I’m a hopeless romantic, Monica. But if you want nothing but fucking, I’m happy to oblige.”

I rolled Monica onto her back to give her an old-fashioned missionary fuck. I suspected it would be fabulous, all things considered. My phallus was completely rigid. I placed its head near the opening of her pussy. I felt compelled to give her some advanced warning. “This might hurt a bit because of our size difference, Monica. My dick is fairly thick compared to most other guys’ rods.”

“I’m not new at this, Curtis,” she reminded me. “Thanks for the warning, though. I appreciate it, but I’ve had big dicks inside me before. Shove it in and let’s see what happens.”

I slowly pushed it inside Monica’s vagina. Almost immediately, I saw the expression on her pretty face change from eagerness to concern.

“You okay with this?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I just have to get used to it, that’s all,” she told me. “I was right. It’s the biggest and thickest dick I’ve ever taken.”

I pushed slowly. Monica moaned. I moaned, too, but I kept on pushing until she had taken every bit of it inside her. I had basically impaled her with my penis. It looked awesome and felt wonderful. At least it felt wonderful to me.

“Good girl, Monica! You did great. You took every inch of my dick. Well done. How does it feel?”

“It feels like I have a telephone pole inside of my pussy!” she blurted.

“Should I pull out?” I asked her with concern.

“No! Don’t do that. I’m enjoying it. It feels tremendous.”

I just laughed at my bedmate’s comments. I wrapped my arms around her and slowly drew back my rod a fraction of an inch and moved it forward again. I did that over and over, slowly increasing the distance over time.

“This is the greatest feeling in the world!” Monica praised me. “Keep on fucking me like this, Curtis. It’s great!”

I had similar feelings. My sizable manhood had never been in such a tight pussy before, which, given my six years of frequent sexual experience beginning in middle school, was quite a statement. I was having a rapturous moment—so much so that I did not pay attention to the obvious tingling sensation building steadily in my testicles. I erupted. For the first time in my life, I ejaculated inside a girl’s vagina. The feeling was overwhelmingly wonderful. I filled Monica’s womb to overflowing with my warm jism. It leaked out in gobs as I continued to thrust my manhood in and out of her with increasing rapidity.

“Lord, have mercy!” I shouted. “What a fabulous feeling! Monica, you are, hands down, the greatest fuck I’ve ever had!” We had been at it for perhaps five minutes, but we remain conjoined for more than 20 minutes. I simply had no desire to pull out of Monica’s extremely tight pussy. It was just too pleasurable to leave it.

Finally, it was Monica who said, “Curtis, you have to pull out. My pussy is starting to ache.”

I reluctantly did. When I withdrew my dick, a veritable river of my cum trickled out, too, making a sticky mess on Monica’s bedsheets. “Mom will have some laundry to do in the morning!” was the first thing that came to Monica’s mind. Half a minute later, I mounted Monica again. My penis was basically flaccid, but I just had an overwhelming desire for more intercourse with this terrific girl.

Monica said sternly, “Seriously, Curtis, you need to pull out. My pussy hurts.”

I did. We spent an hour cuddling. Monica gave me a hand job. “It’s the least I can do!” she told me with joy. I ejaculated again, this time on her titties where I could assess its size. It was perhaps one-tenth the volume of my massive orgasm.

We both fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was early for me to doze off, but I later learned that it was the usual bedtime for Monica. Mrs. Eagles had to rouse me from my slumber. “Curtis, you need to get up right now if you want to catch the last bus of the night.” I did. I noticed that my balls noticeably ached from pure exertion. That had seldom happened to me in the past six years.

About a week later I got a phone call from Mrs. Eagles to report that Monica had gotten two strong results on a pair of tests at school because she had taken more time to study and complete her everyday work in a timely manner. I told her to pass along my sincere congratulations to Monica.

She said she would and promptly changed the subject. “Curtis, you gave Monica’s pussy one hell of a screwing when you were here. She could barely walk for two days.”

“Jeez, I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I did give her a warning about my size,” I said. “Is there anything I can do for her to make amends?”

“Yes, there is”, she calmly informed me. “Monica wants you to visit her on Saturday and fuck her exactly the same way again. Can you please do that for her, Curtis?”

It took me about two seconds to say yes to that offer.