Every Fucking Inch
A Fictional Story by Vickisandhu.
I was sprawled out beneath him, thighs splayed, D-cups heavy and spreading sideways, my soft belly rising and falling with each shaky breath. And between his tree-trunk thighs, nestled in that tight dark scrotum like a shy little secret, was the smallest dick I’d ever seen in my life.
Three-quarters of an inch. Soft. A nub. A button.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing — not at him, exactly. At the situation. Six feet of solid powerlifter, two hundred and sixty-five pounds of barrel chest and boulder shoulders and thick, slab-like gut, and the thing between his legs looked like it belonged on a action figure.
“Come here,” I murmured, reaching up and pulling him down by his thick neck. His weight settled over me like a warm, heavy blanket — chest flattening my tits, gut pressing into my soft belly, thighs forcing mine wider apart. He was enormous. Everywhere except where it counted.
I could feel it. That tiny nub, warm and soft, nudging against my inner thigh. Not my pussy — my thigh. The plump, cushioned part where my ass met my leg. He shifted his hips, trying to line up, and I felt the little head skim across my slick entrance for half a second before slipping away entirely.
“Let me — hold on—” he grunted, adjusting.
I felt it again. A brief, silky kiss against my outer lips. Then gone. His hips slammed forward — the impact was real, I’ll give him that. Two hundred and sixty-five pounds driving into me made my whole body jiggle, ass bouncing, tits rippling, the bed frame creaking. But the penetration? Nonexistent. His little nub couldn’t even stay nestled between my pussy lips long enough to push inside.
“Oh God, Vicky—” I gasped, and it came out more breathless than I intended. Not from pleasure. From the absurdity of it. This mountain of a man was jackhammering me, skin slapping, sweat flying, and my pussy was getting absolutely nothing. Just teasing little brushes — a half-second of warm pressure against my opening, then slip — his tiny dick would slide up between my fat pussy lips and grind uselessly against my clit, or down between my thighs, or get lost entirely in the crease where my ass met my leg.
“Am I in?” he panted.
Jesus Christ.
“Yeah, baby,” I lied. “You’re — right there. Keep going.”
He thrust harder. I felt his balls — tight, small — slap against my ass. I felt his gut shudder against my belly. I felt his thick thighs shake the whole bed. But my pussy? Empty. Untouched. My walls clenched around nothing. The head of his cock — that fat little pink mushroom barely bigger than a thumb tip — kept catching on my entrance and popping right back out, like my pussy was spitting it out. Like even my vagina knew it was too small to bother with.
I wrapped my thick thighs around his waist and squeezed, pulling him closer, trying to angle my hips so maybe — maybe — he’d get an inch inside. But my ass was too fat, my thighs too thick, and his dick was too short to navigate through all that cushion. Every thrust, his nub would press against my pussy lips, I’d feel that tiny fat head start to push in — and then his hips would pull back and pop, out it would slip, and he’d be humping air again.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned.
Yeah, because I’m not getting fucked, I thought. My pussy was drenched — slick, swollen, aching — and it was all going to waste on this micro-dick that couldn’t even stay inside me for a full second.
“Roll over,” I whispered. “Let me try something.”
I pushed his massive shoulder and he rolled onto his back, the bed groaning under him. His little cock stood straight up — all inch and a half of it, throbbing, the fat pink head twitching above his tight scrotum. It looked ridiculous on his huge body. Like a pencil stub on a dining table.
I got on all fours, my heavy tits hanging and swaying, my wide ass in the air, and reached back to grab his nub between my thumb and two fingers. That’s all it took. Three fingers. His entire hard cock, gripped between my thumb and fingers, the head barely poking out past my fingertips.
I guided it to my pussy. Pressed the little head against my slick opening. Felt it start to slide in — just the tip, just that fat little mushroom head pushing past my swollen lips — and then I let go and pushed back.
It slipped right out.
“Oh fuck—” I hissed, frustrated and somehow delighted at the same time. I grabbed it again, pressed it back, felt the head pop inside — barely — and then his hips bucked and out it went again, sliding up between my ass cheeks, lost in all that fat.
“Sorry—” he started.
“Don’t apologize,” I said, but I was smiling into the pillow. “Just — grab my hips. Fuck me hard.”
He did. His huge hands wrapped around my wide hips — they looked massive next to my curves, thick fingers digging into my soft flesh — and he slammed into me. The force was incredible. My whole body rocked forward, tits swinging, ass rippling, the thwack of his thighs against mine filling the room. His gut rested heavy on my lower back, his barrel chest pressed warm against my shoulders.
And his cock? Sliding between my ass cheeks. Rubbing along my outer lips. Catching on my clit for a half-second before slipping away. His tiny nub was getting nothing done, just helplessly sliding around in the slick mess between my legs while his powerful body pounded me into the mattress.
“Right there,” I moaned, because the hip slamming felt good even if his dick was useless. “Right there, baby, keep — fuck — keep going—”
His little cock twitched against my clit. I felt it — that tiny, desperate throb, the head so small it just flicked my swollen button and slid away. My pussy clenched, empty, dripping, aching for something — anything — to fill it.
Nothing. Just that little nub, rubbing uselessly along my slit.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I pulled forward, spun around, and shoved him flat on his back. His huge legs fell open — thick, muscular thighs spread wide, that tiny cock standing straight up from his groin like a little pink flag on a mountain. I crawled between his legs, my heavy tits dragging across his gut, and lowered my dripping pussy directly onto his nub.
Not his cock. Not inside. On it. I pressed my swollen, slick pussy lips right against that little throbbing head and ground.
“Oh — oh —” I gasped.
His tiny cock was the perfect size for clit stimulation. That fat little head, barely bigger than a marble, pressed right against my button as I circled my hips. I was essentially using his dick as a sex toy — a tiny, warm, throbbing little nub to grind my clit against while my pussy lips wrapped around it and nothing else. No penetration. No filling. Just my swollen clit rubbing against his micro-dick while I rode his massive body like a sybian.
“God, your little cock feels so good on my clit,” I breathed, and watched his face flush dark. “So perfect. So tiny and perfect—”
I ground harder. My thick thighs bracketed his huge ones, my soft belly pressed against his hard gut, my heavy tits bounced and swayed as I circled my hips. My pussy was drenched — slick coating his nub, his balls, his lower belly. I could feel every twitch of his tiny cock against my clit, every throb, every helpless little pulse.
He was shaking. His massive frame — all that muscle, all that power — was trembling beneath me because a curvy girl was grinding her clit on his micro-dick and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
“Tell me how small it is,” I panted.
“It’s — it’s small—”
“How small?”
“Tiny. It’s so tiny. It’s — fuck —”
“Say it. Say it can’t fuck me.”
“It can’t — it can’t fuck you. It’s too small. It keeps slipping out. I can’t — I can’t get it inside—”
“Good boy.”
I ground harder, faster. My clit was on fire — swollen, throbbing, pressed against his little nub in tight circles. My pussy gushed, slick dripping down over his balls. My thighs quivered. My tits bounced heavily.
“I love your tiny dick,” I moaned. “I love that it can’t fuck me. I love that you’re this big, strong, huge man and your cock is useless for fucking—”
He whimpered. Actually whimpered. Two hundred and sixty-five pounds of muscle, whimpering beneath me while I used his micro-dick to get off.
“Every time you tried to put it in,” I gasped, grinding faster, “it just — popped right back out. Couldn’t even stay inside me for one second. Your cock is too small to fuck, Vicky. Too small to fill me. Too small to do anything except — this—”
I came.
Hard. My whole body seized. My pussy clenched around nothing — nothing, because his cock was too small to be inside me — and gushed, slick flooding out over his nub and balls and belly. My thighs clamped around his huge legs and shook. My back arched, heavy tits thrust forward, and I screamed — loud, shameless, filling the dorm room.
I rode the orgasm in slow, grinding circles, my clit pulsing against his tiny, throbbing cock head. Each aftershock made my pussy clench and drip. I could feel his little nub twitching desperately beneath me, trapped between my slick pussy lips, too small to fuck but just big enough to feel amazing against my clit.
“Come for me,” I whispered, still grinding. “Come with your little dick.”
He convulsed. His pro-wrestler body bucked beneath me — huge thighs shaking, barrel chest heaving, gut clenching — and his tiny cock spurted. A few warm, watery drops, barely anything, dribbling between us and mixing with my slick. His face twisted, his eyes rolled, and this massive man looked so small in that moment — undone by a micro-dick orgasm while a curvy girl ground on top of him.
I collapsed onto his broad chest, my heavy tits flattening against his barrel chest, my soft belly pressed to his gut. I kissed his thick neck, tasting salt, and rocked my hips gently — my slick, swollen pussy still cradling his spent little nub.
“I love you,” I murmured against his skin. “Every fucking inch.” I rolled my hips, felt his tiny, softening cock twitch against my clit. “Especially the tiny ones.”
He exhaled — a long, shuddering breath that made his whole chest rise and fall beneath me. His huge arms wrapped around my back, thick hands resting on my ass.
I smiled into his neck.
His dick couldn’t fuck me. Could barely stay inside me for half a second. Could fit between three fingers with room to spare. But lying there, tangled up in his massive, sweaty, shaking body, my pussy still dripping and my clit still tingling from the best orgasm I’d had in months?
I didn’t need him to fuck me.
I just needed that little nub — that tiny, useless, perfect little nub — to grind against.
And God, it was good.
The End.
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