Virginia's Peculiar Fascination // Chapter 4

Preston walked closer and got beside them, took Ginny at the small of her back and guided her to come face to face with the young man. Carter looked at Ginny, and when she looked up at him, he looked up at the ceiling.

This good-looking guy with his dick held to his belly, hidden by his shirt, showing a beautiful housewife the size of his awesome testicles.

"Go on, Ginny. You can touch them."

Every iota of entrenched propriety flashed across his wife's eyes, trying to stop her from doing something she should never ever do, but that she wanted to do. It was an amazing thing to behold. His wife knowing better, but wanting something so terrible that she considered doing it.

Preston said, "Carter, you don't mind. That's why you're here, right?"

"Yeah," he said, still looking up.

Ginny said, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Mrs. Whitmore."

"Oh, Preston," said, seeing trouble. "No, no, call her Ginny, or Virginia, whichever you like."

Ginny looked to Preston like once more needing permission to perform this insane opportunity. Preston nodded.

Ginny, whose hands were clasped at her midsection, let her hands down, and for a second he thought she would balk, but at last her right hand eased forward, fingers opening, palm expanding, angling forward and underneath Carter's dangling parts.

He watched his wife's hand gently come up and support the weight of another man's testicles. And they were huge in his wife's grip. A total handful. The stress of their weight that stretched Carter's scrotum relaxed as she lifted them higher, cradling them in the gentle cup of her palm. Her fingers rolled them, but she was careful.

Preston asked her what she thought. "They're huge," she muttered.

"You like them? Do you like them?"

She nodded almost imperceptibly. When she spoke, her voice was a soft whisper. "Yes."

"Are they heavy?"

"Yeah," she said, her eyes locked on her handful of female fetish, the strangest fetish he'd ever even heard of. Testicles, of all things.

"Do you like heavy?"

Ginny nodded. Then, as if needing no further instruction, he watched, excited but incredulous, as Ginny went lower and lower, letting Carter's balls go, her fingertips running down the fronts of his thighs. She knelt before tall Carter, looking up at his giant balls.

Preston said, "You should have kept your knee pads on."

Ginny scolded him. "Preston," she hissed under her breath.

"What are you going to do?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she said.

Preston said, "You can do whatever you want. Carter won't mind."

Carter shook his head. He didn't look sick anymore. He didn't look nervous. Total opposite now. His eyes were glassy. His boyish lips parted. Virginia Whitmore was forty-seven, but she had to be top five girls this stud had ever been with. And when Ginny had been around Carter's age, she was the hottest thing on campus, a total ball-shrinking feminine force and social chair of Delta Tau Epsilon. A real live queen bee Southern belle.

Ginny's face got closer. She leaned her cheek on the inside of one of Carter's tanned thighs. She kissed him there, then marveled briefly at the sight of his testicles climbing, both of them drawing up, then one falling lower, rolling in his generous sack. She kissed him again, watched his balls move. Then she kissed his scrotum. Her soft pouted lips pressing against one of those massive succulent orbs. She left a lipstick print. Then she began to mouth, soft kisses becoming puckered pulls. She was able to get one of his testicles in her mouth, gently pulling it away from his body and letting it fall back and swing. She held them in her palm, pulled them downwards, tested their resilience by squeezing and thumbing.

Carter grunted and groaned. Ginny pinched an okay sign below the base of his hidden penis, then batted his two oversized balls on her outstretched tongue, pat, pat, pat, then rubbed them from side to side, covering them in her saliva. She mouthed them, sucked them, pulled each one into her mouth in turn. They were too big to go in together, but Ginny tried.

It had all come together better than he'd ever imagined. He figured he would get her to play with them. Never figured it would go this far. But farther was better. And he loved the sight of her so turned on she would do the most degrading things a lady like her would never ever do unless you provided the right stimulus. And Ginny's stimulus apparently was massive balls. She loved them. But that wasn't all she loved, he discovered. Because as she suckled them, as she bathed them with her mouth, licked them, pulled them, pleasured them, bothered them until Carter would groan in discomfort, she wanted more.

Her fingers traveled up the length of Carter's hanging scrotum, and one finger hooked over the top side of his hidden penis and began to tug it downward out from under his hanging shirt. It slapped her cheek and fell over one eye with a beefy splat. It wasn't just testicles that were oversized in the Maddox family. Carter Maddox also sported prime grade-A horse cock. Longer than Ginny's whole face. A gentle bow in it. Wider than a business card. And Ginny let out the most girlish and surprising sound he'd ever heard her utter, a purely sexual noise, like a whimper, maybe, a sound of exquisite suffering, like all her dreams and all her desires had been answered by the weight of this young cock on her face, his huge balls tapping on her throat.

"You like that, Ginny? I didn't know if you would."

Ginny was gone. No answers to be had. She moved her face around, letting Carter's huge, erect cock pass over her nose from cheek to cheek while she massaged his hanging balls and pressed them against her chin and ears.

"Hey, Carter," he said, aside, since Ginny wasn't present anymore, "why don't you take your shirt off?"

Carter nodded, not as sexually overwhelmed as Ginny, but getting there, and he pulled off his polo shirt and tossed it onto the couch. Ginny's hands went up his body from his thighs, across his hard, thin stomach, to his chest, and then back down again. She reached around and grabbed handfuls of his ass while his cock stroked across her face. She pushed her mouth and nose against him, his cock going upright, his balls squished against his leg and Ginny's cheek and jawline.

She pulled him in her mouth again, sucking one huge ball at a time, and her hand gripped his oversized meat and stroked back and forth. Her grip could not close around it. She stroked up and down and then squeezed the head, running her thumb up the cloven underside, seeking Carter's lubrication.

This thing could go way farther than he'd ever thought. It overwhelmed him. He said to Carter, "You could step out of those pants. Everybody should be naked."

Carter tried, but his shoes were too big to get through the leg holes. Shit, he should have reminded the kid to get loafers. He bought lace-ups. He should have seen this coming.

He stepped in like a referee. "Right, Carter, get those pants off. Get those shoes off. Ginny, come here," he said, raising up his discombobulated wife.

Virginia stood, lipstick smeared, lips fattened with lust, eyes glassy, more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. He told her, "You're so fucking beautiful, Ginny. Look at you."

You gotta get it back in there this round, champ. You show that kid who's boss.

Ginny nodded.

“You want to take some things off? You look too hot, Ginny.”

She nodded again.

“Yeah, you want that? You want that kid to see how beautiful you are?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You know, he's here too. It's not all about you. You gotta share a little something too. Show 'em what you've got,” he said. “And you have a lot.”

He began unbuttoning her blouse. Ginny allowed him, not only allowed him, but began to unzip her skirt at her backside. He unbuttoned her shirt and she let her skirt fall. He was ready to undo her bra and then realized how selfish he was.

“Ginny, I'm going to let the kid do it, okay? You good?”

She'd gone speechless, mute. Her eyes traveled over his shoulder to gorgeous Carter Maddox, and she nodded.

Yeah, she wouldn't mind letting this young stud strip her naked. Stupid question.

Preston stepped back and gestured for the two fighters to come out of their corners, and they did, Carter meeting Ginny right in the center of their sitting room where they'd hosted countless functions for every upstanding group in the whole town of Piper Glen. The governor had been sitting in this room one time. None of that was better than the spectacle taking place right now.

Ginny kissed Carter's chest, and her hands returned between his legs, cupping his balls and playing with them again. Both hands pulling, tugging, and stroking his penis as well. And Carter got to work, one hand going up her back and unhooking her bra.

Ginny had the greatest set. Most of the girls in college fucking hated Ginny because of her body. And it had only gotten better with age. She was tall but full-figured. D-cups. Her stomach wasn't as flat as it had been, but the whole package looked better than ever.

The hardness he suffered while watching Carter's hands touch his wife's body shocked him. It wasn't completely out of the blue because he'd suspected some of these things as he'd put this little plan together. He'd had no idea his own reaction would be so strong. This was supposed to be for Ginny. But holy shit, he'd never expected he'd feel like this. He'd feel something, but not like this. Ginny Whitmore, naked in their sitting room with another man, while Preston watched. There were no holds barred now, and he wasn't going to step in to adjust any rules. He'd let them work it out between them.

Fuck, their mouths came together. That was hard. Watching this young man kiss his wife, grab her naked ass while he did it, press that huge cock against her, the knob end of it sticking out sideways, almost up at Ginny's armpit.

They lowered to the floor, Ginny pulling Carter down, getting on her back, kissing Carter's neck and jaw, her hand always staying connected in some way between Carter's legs.

And then the kid had a surprise of his own. Preston wasn't the only planner. This had been a balls-only proposition. But Carter stuck one of those big hands into the side pocket of his nearby slacks and pulled out a foil packet—a condom.

And though this had never been offered as part of the bargain, it looked like it was going to happen. Ginny didn't even say, “Hey, come on, get out of here,” or “What are you doing? Preston, do you approve of this?” None of those things. She watched young Carter tear open the condom package like she was eager. She even took the condom from Carter's big trembling hands, taking over, her fingers not trembling at all. Plopping the greasy rubber onto the kid's massive cock head, stretching it over that plump shape, then running it down his shaft with two hands. Zip, zip, zip, zip, until it was past the halfway point.

He'd remembered that rubber-rolling maneuver from back in the old days when they used condoms before they were married. But boy, Ginny had never struggled to get a condom down his shaft, not like with this Carter kid and his meat bazooka.

He wanted to participate in some way, make a suggestion maybe, or some sort of witty comment, but anything he might mutter in this moment, he would hear in third person in his own ears and consider weak. So he watched. Watched as his wife and the guy who he invited over to show his huge testicles to his wife took this thing way beyond where he'd intended.

It had always been a possibility and one he was prepared for, but he hadn't anticipated such a runaway freight train on his track. This event was barreling toward town with an overloaded freight.

Then it hit him.

He gasped. Ginny wanted Carter to come. Ginny wanted this. This was part of her fetish. The fetish was balls, but not just balls, but what they did. It was all so obvious now.

Carter got over top of Ginny and she surrendered to this tanned giant with a huge dick and Preston knew what to do. “Carter,” he said, “get her on all fours.”

Carter looked dumbly at Ginny for verification. She nodded, and Carter helped her to get on her hands and knees between the sofa and the coffee table on their expensive rug. He situated himself behind her, ran one huge hand from her tailbone up to her neck; held her by the neck, and angled the end of his monstrous penis against Ginny's seam.

The kid pushed into her slowly, and Ginny made a long, tremulous sound, a sound like this was too big to go inside her, like this kid's cock was just too much. Carter worked it back and forth, going nice and easy, and soon that tremulous note released its tight cinch and became breathy moans and groans of delight.

Soon he was easing it more than halfway inside Ginny, right to the condom's end point. Stroking it in deep, pulling back nice and slow, but then picking up pace, and Ginny liking the new pace. Ginny easing back against it. Her hair had come undone and hung around her shoulders now. Her lipstick was smeared and she'd brought back that post-gardening sheen.

But it wasn't gardening that had done it. Not anymore. It was lust. Dirty primal lust. One woman's disgusting attraction. A thing she'd kept close, but a thing he'd given back to her.