Have Cock Will Travel

My name is Scott now sixty five, divorced but had been married three times with six kids. My life has been lived through my cock. It began in puberty when my genitalia grew to be much bigger than most. In fact with our school having a large population, I easily had the largest appendage at just shy of nine inches long and six and seven eights circumference. Playing high school volleyball in short shorts with huge balls and a cock flaccid at over six inches, it becomes hard to hide. And harder to hide when hard. It didn’t help that back in those days it was ultra tight Robert Plant jeans showing off our wares. I received a lot of attention from teachers, students, parents, of both sexes. My nick name was Can Of Corn because my dick had the same girth as a typical can of food. It was a gym teacher who gave me that nick name. I have too many stories to tell. I was sixteen, hired to do some yard work for a neighbour. A married woman in her forties nothing special, typical mom body. I asked her what work she wanted me to do, she giggled and said she wanted me to do her. “Fuck me” she said.
She was great. Taught me a lot and I did her every second week for several years and her friend. One of my mother’s church going friends would stare at my crotch all the time. My mother asked me to go to her home and help move a refrigerator. It was very apparent when she answered the door wearing nothing more than a night shirt, that I was there for other reasons. Yes I moved her fridge so she could clean behind it, but as she cleaned her naked ass and pussy were flashing me. After moving it back she asked me to sit at her kitchen table, handing me a Coke she then sat on the table before me her feet on either side of my legs giving me full view of her hairy snatch. She proceeded to take off her shirt and said “show me your massive cock.” I did. I fucked her on the table, in her bed, in the shower. I fucked her raw. Again, another woman who wanted repeat visits. I was gaining a considerable Bad Boy image that got worse as I grew through athletics into my cock. Six two, two hundred and ten pounds. No shortage of takers. My very first massage, I injured my lower back in football. She was a massage therapist, married, in her thirties who worked from her home. As she worked my back I could feel me getting an erection. She asked me to roll over. I embarrassed said, I have an erection to which she said not to worry, it happens and you’re under a sheet. Well when I rolled over the size of the tent I was pitching was apparent through her eyes. She smiled and said, “Well, you are having an erection.” As she worked my thighs my dick was doing a pulsating dance exaggerated by the movement of the sheet. Her hands glanced by my balls which are huge causing my dick to dance more. She apologized and said, “I must say, you are quite substantial. I almost feel like you’re playing a practical joke on me. That this isn’t real.” I assured her I wasn’t that what was under the sheet was me and to prove it, I removed the sheet. She didn’t expect me to do that and she didn’t expect to see what she saw. She was going to get another sheet, I stopped her and said, not to worry about it. She carried on with me fully nude but after ten minutes or so, she put her hands on my hard-on and balls. Oiling them up, she said, “I hope you don’t mind. I could really get in trouble for this. I could lose my license.” I said, “Not from me you won’t.” I saw her often, for the next five weeks. We progressed from hand jobs, to blow jobs, to all out sex. In grade twelve, being a disruption in art class got myself and a friend in trouble with the price being we come after school for detention. Our teach was nothing terribly special. Five foot, 110 pounds, cute and very much a flower child. She had us sitting in chairs in front of her desk. She wore a little gold and green kilt and sat cross legged on her desk flashing us a beautiful shot of her naked hairy beaver. We couldn’t believe it. She was starring right at my now growing bulge, my dick growing moving further down my leg. I got up, she said, “What are you doing? Sit down!” I said, “I think not” and proceeded to put my hand up her skirt and on her very wet pussy. My partner in crime and I had tag teamed several girls in our school so he knew what to do. She gave protest but not of the convincing sort. His hands were under her shirt, my fingers playing with her c**t. We quickly dropped our pants laying her out on her back over her desk, my buddy had her mouth and I her pussy. She loved it and invited either I or him or both of us to her home, many times. Yes this appendage has served me well but there is a down side. Later.