SPH-THEMED EROTICA STORIES

I met her on a dating app. She was cute—short hair, sharp jawline, a smile that made me want to do stupid things. Her profile said she was trans, and I swiped right without thinking twice. We texted for a week before she invited me over to her place.

Her apartment was small but cozy. She had a record player in the corner, a stack of vinyls, and a cat that watched me from the bookshelf. We drank cheap wine and talked for an hour, the conversation jumping from music to travel to the weirdest sex we’d ever had. She was easy to talk to, no pretense, no awkward pauses.

When she kissed me, it was hungry. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, her hand tangled in my hair, and I felt my cock stir in my jeans. We stumbled to her bedroom, shedding clothes as we went. Her body was lean, her hips narrow, her chest flat but with a softness that came from hormones. And her cock—I saw it when she pulled off her boxers. It hung soft between her thighs, maybe two inches, the same as mine when I’m limp.

We kissed some more, my hand wrapped around her shaft, feeling it thicken. She did the same to me, stroking me until I was hard. Then she pulled back and looked down at both of us in her hand.

“Huh,” she said. “You know, mine’s not usually that big.” She was comparing, her thumb rubbing against the side of my dick. “Actually, I think I’m bigger than you.”

I looked. She was right. Her cock was standing at full mast now—five inches, maybe five and a half, with a decent thickness that made mine look like a pinky finger beside her middle finger. Mine was exactly four inches, skinny, curved slightly to the left.

“Let’s check,” she said, and reached for her nightstand. She pulled out a tape measure—the soft kind, like for sewing. She wrapped it around her base first: four and a half inches in girth. Then around mine: barely three. Then she measured length from the pubic bone to the tip. Hers: five. Mine: four.

She couldn’t stop giggling. Her whole body shook with it, her cock bobbing as she laughed. “Oh my god. I’m bigger than you. I’ve got an inch on you, and I’m way thicker. That’s hilarious.”

I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there, my four-inch erection pointing at her, feeling the weight of the difference.

“Well,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes, “since I’m bigger, I think you know who’s going down on who.”

I nodded. I’d never sucked a cock before, let alone a cock bigger than mine. But she was already lying back on the bed, her legs spread, her dick standing proud. I crawled between her thighs and took her in my mouth.

She was smooth, tasted clean, a little salty. I licked the tip, ran my tongue along the shaft, and she groaned. “Yeah, just like that.” She threaded her fingers through my hair, guiding my head up and down. “You’ve done this before?”

I shook my head, mouth full.

“Good student then. Keep going.”

I sucked her for an hour. My jaw ached, my throat burned, but she kept me there, hard and eager, her hips bucking when I found the right rhythm. She talked the whole time. “Look at you. You’re so eager to please. Probably used to being the smaller one, huh? Bet all your girlfriends were bigger than you.” I grunted in response, my tongue working her shaft. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. But first, I want you to remember who’s in charge here.”

When she was fully hard, dripping with my spit, she told me to get on my hands and knees. She lubed up—a squeeze of gel from a bottle on the nightstand—and pressed the tip of her cock against my ass. I’d bottomed before, but not often. Not for someone bigger than me.

She pushed in slowly. I gasped, my eyes watering. She slid deeper, inch by inch, until she was fully seated inside me. Then she started fucking me, slow at first, then faster, her hips slapping against my ass.

“You feel that?” she panted, her hand gripping my hip. “You feel how much bigger I am? That’s my cock. Deeper than anything you’ve ever had. Because it’s bigger than yours.”

She kept talking, her voice a mix of mockery and pleasure. “You’re taking it so well. Like a good little boy. Your little four-inch dick is just a decoration now, huh? This is what a real cock feels like.”

I came without even touching myself. A weak, pathetic spurt onto the sheets, my body shuddering as she kept pounding into me. She noticed. “Did you just cum? From getting fucked? Oh my god, you’re a mess.” She laughed, that same giggle from earlier, and kept going until she came herself, buried deep, her breath catching.

Afterward, we lay in a tangle of limbs and sweat. She kissed my forehead. “That was fun. You’re fun.”

I agreed. No regrets. She’s bigger than me. And honestly? That’s exactly how it should be.

 

The End.

*The opinions/views expressed in this story (and in any comments) are those of the author and do not represent this site. We support freedom of speech. This story has been submitted directly to this website for publication. Thanks for your submission.