Horseface: Part 1
Anastasia was the nerdy girl my best friend in middle-school dreamed to date. Chubby and shy; both a ginger and a Jew, with a slender nose and a long face that earned her the nickname “Horseface.”
Thinking me better with the girls, he begged me to go and put in a good word for him, and maybe score him a date. Anastasia smiled at all my crappy jokes in the most vulnerable way, and told me I was cute.
By the end of the week we were together-together and making out every chance we got, even with my friend there. Sorry, guy.
But that was all the way back in middle-school, and even then Anastasia was my total opposite: she lived for anime and manga, binged sweets like crazy, and hated any and all sports.
As you may have guessed, she had a bit of a weight problem. Like I said, she was chubby: cute belly, thick legs, and a fat ass with perfect round buns that she draped loose sweatshirts over.
By the time we reached our last year of high school, our sex life was… lacking. We were now legal adults and almost on our way to college, yet she showed diminishing interest in doing stuff.
Before, Anastasia would be the pushy one. She browsed porn nonstop and got me to watch it with her; sometimes we laughed at what we saw; other times we got horny in tandem and ended up masturbating side by side.
Never the real deal, though…
She soon entered a phase where she got paranoid about doing too much at all (not even watching stuff) and told me she wanted to wait until marriage to get back into it.
Being a guy, I insisted, I pushed my luck, I begged – until she accepted to give it to me once, just once, as a birthday gift.
That night I headed over to her place, and she acted bitchy from the start. Her parents were out; I expected that she would be waiting for me dressed in something sexy, but she was only wearing a stained shirt and some washed-out jeans. We went upstairs to her room, where some anime was running the laptop at a loud volume – lights off.
Anastasia plopped on the bed. “Well? Let’s get it over with.”
I stripped down and got next to her, trying to stiffen my cock. She threw me a condom, then slid off her jeans with a disinterested sigh.
That proved to be the end of me. I barely managed to get hard under the circumstances, but putting on the condom killed my hard-on instantly. I tried once, twice, thrice – nothing.
I didn’t know what to do.
“I’m not doing it without one,” Anastasia spat.
The damned thing just wouldn’t stay hard. I had come so far, even risked our relationship by pushing her into this shit, and all for nothing…
When I saw her pull her jeans on, the stress got the best of me and I began to cry.
Like a little bitch, I sobbed, thinking myself so unhappy and unlucky.
Anastasia kissed me and comforted me. “Don’t cry. It’s just a sign. We’re not supposed to do it yet, that’s all. Plus, when we get married we won’t need to use condoms – ever. You can fill me up with your babies. You’ll see.”
We made out that whole night after that. She forgave me for being so pushy about it, and I agreed to wait. Our relationship felt stronger than ever.
A few months back, we passed by an obese guy that waddled in a hellish manner. He was just rolls upon rolls of jiggling fat, every inch of him drenched in sweat from the mere effort of walking.
I cringed at the sight. “I can’t believe that guy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you see him? I mean, how does he even move? Jesus.”
“You know not everyone can control their weight,” she snapped.
How could I forget? Every time weight was brought up Anastasia went crazy. Anything said about fat people was a direct attack on her. It didn’t matter that she was only a few pounds overweight while the people I trashed were close to being planets.
“And what if I gained weight?” asked Anastasia. “Would you still love me then? What if I got as fat as that guy? Would you still call me your baby?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I mean it. I don’t care.”
I thought it would make her happy, but she only bobbed her head in disbelief. “Okay then. We’ll see.”
I didn’t know what that meant.
But I would soon find out.
When we got to her place she started binging on sweets. Whether it was what I said that brought it on, or just some mad craving, she was going through the stuff like crazy – the bed was all crinkling and flashy wrappers.
“What?” she spat. “Does it bother you?”
“You know what bothers me?!”
Anastasia jumped. I never raised my voice. “What?…” she asked, her voice small and afraid.
I yanked her close and took her Snickers away. “That you think there’s any possible way in which I could love you less,” I whispered. “There isn’t. I swear.” I pushed the candy against her lips, trying to feed it to her.
Almost like a cock…
Anastasia laughed, then started kissing me. “You really mean it?”
“Always. Eat as much as you like.” Within reason.
She sighed. “Honestly, I could go for a different type of candy bar right now.” Her hand wandered up my thigh to my crotch.
Was she started something? This hadn’t happened in months.
I hardened at the thought of her sucking me off. I never did manage to get a blowjob out of her before. Was this going to be it? Was she for real? “Is that right?”
“I’ve been watching a few videos lately, and I’m feeling very hungry… Starving.”
What videos? Didn’t we do that together? And dropped it at her insistence? Whatever, I wasn’t going to risk ruining the moment. “I would love that.”
She helped me slide off my pants and underwear. My cock bounced out, standing pencil-still before her watchful blue eyes.
Her chubby fingers coiled around it, taking it from view. She pumped it slowly, her warmth making every inch of me tingle.
Anastasia’s mouth opened and her little tongue came rolling out…
But she only sucked on her cheeks, let her spit come down make my cock wet. My ears buzzed with the sound of the wet strokes.
The tip of her tongue marked its way from the base of the shaft up to the head. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes… Do you like it?”
“Different than my usual candy bars,” she said, giggling. “Not nearly as sweet. And a little on the small side.”
Small? Why would she say that? I could feel my arousal dissipating, and my hard-on crumbling with it. “What?”
“What?” Concern and puzzlement. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Nothing, just… You called it small.”
“Awww,” she cooed. “I’m sorry. I was only saying. You know I don’t care.” She gave the tip of my cock a mock kiss without touching the lips to it. “You know I love your little baby cock.”
Baby cock? I had never ever heard her talk about it like this. We both knew it wasn’t huge or anything… but this?
Yet somehow, insanely enough, it was making me horny to think of her loving it despite it being so… totally inadequate.
“It can’t do much but it tries its best,” she said in a sultry tone, her hot breath hitting my cock like a caress, the words sending shivers down my spine. I was shuddering with every breath. “Wow, you like that, don’t you?”
“Tell me more,” I managed to say with difficulty. Why couldn’t I breathe?
Anastasia smiled. “Tell you what?” The ginger bitch was teasing me.
I could only grin back. This was so new and strange. “Tell me… Tell me how small it is.”
“Can’t you see?” she took most of her fingers away, but left the index. “In porn they grip it with both hands and there’s plenty of room left on it. Especially for black guys. To make yours look the same I have to use just one finger…”
My cock was diamonds. Harder and harder with every word. “More, please… Do you like it?”
“Do I like your cock?”
“Of course, it’s yours.”
“And if it wasn’t? If it was someone else’s…” I struggled to talk. “Would you like it then?”
“No. Not really.”
“Because it’s small.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry baby, but yeah… It’s just really, really, really small… I feel sorry for you, sometimes.”
She felt sorry for me? The words made me soar to new heights of degradation and arousal.
“So you’re never turned on by it?” I asked.
“I’m turned on by you being turned on.”
“But not my cock.”
“Nope… It’s too pathetic.” She squeezed it hard, laughing, as if to punish me for how bad it was. “Who would be turned on by this?”
I was getting closer. “Tell me you love it again. Tell me…”
“I” – she squeezed harder – “love” – harder – “your” – harder – “tiny” – harder – “baby” – harder – “cock. It’s useless; but it’s yours, so I love it. Even if it could never satisfy me.”
The words barely came out. “N-never?” I stammered.
She squeezed it one last time, so hard that I thought she would break it. Pop it away like an ugly balloon. “Never.”
That did it.
I exploded, and I could feel warm cum spilling down my cock as she went on milking it.
Anastasia was laughing. “Oh my God, baby, stop, you’re spraying me all over!”
A minute later she was in my arms as we laughed and kissed.
She fixed her blue eyes on me. “That was cute. Did it feel good?”
“Yes. Very good.”
And I just realized that I hadn’t really gotten a blowjob. Not only that, but she had managed to get me horny by mocking my cock… by making it into a joke.
Did she mean any of it? You don’t exactly want to hear your girlfriend say your cock isn’t good enough, no matter how much she loves it for your sake.
“Do you really think I have a small cock?”
Anastasia pursed her lips thoughtfully, eyes straight to her upper left. “Well, yeah… But you know I don’t care, right?” Her palm moved lovingly over my chest. “I love you. Just like you love me. I don’t care that you don’t have a cock. Same way you don’t care that I’m not a skinny model.” She kissed me. “You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
Now she talked about it as if I had nothing to offer at all.
No cock to speak of.
As if I were…
Just another girl.
My tiny cock grew.
Anastasia giggled at the sight. “Seems this stuff turns you on a lot, huh, baby?”
All sorts of questions popped into my head: Was this why she had become so uninterested in sex? Had she ever told anyone else about my embarrassing size? Also, what kind of porn was she watching without me? When? Why did she never tell me?
Most importantly: Was she getting her real needs fulfilled by… a real cock?
The thought alone left me numb.
In the end, I would get answers to all of these questions.
And none of them good.
To be continued…