Shy Gretchen

Shy Gretchen

Every week, Frank Poireau got some sultry selfies on his phone. In them, girls and women could be seen wholly or partly naked. They were of all ages. At first, Frank had wondered how that came about. The most obvious explanation he could come up with was that perhaps his boss Thérèse de Clippeleire whom he fucked in the archive basement every Monday afternoon hadn't kept her mouth shut. But it really wasn't likely. Thérèse de Clippeleire, the Brussels CEO of Matrix Life Insurance, made every effort to hide her personal life from her staff. Even her weekly lover Frank Poireau didn't know how old Thérèse was, whether she was married, single, or divorced…

In most cases, the women and girls in the selfies worked at MLI, but there were also a few who had known Poireau a few years earlier in his heyday at the VUB university. In general, those women had only one intention: to get a chance to make love to Poireau because of his special anatomy. However, not all women were keen to get fucked. Some were only curious. They just wanted to see his dick.

Poireau had no objection. They could always come and watch. They had a choice: either they paid him fifteen euros and then they were allowed to look at his cock for five minutes without touching it. Or, if they wanted to feel his dick’s consistency in those five minutes, handle it, make it hard and stiff, it cost another twenty-five euros. Since the times Frank showed his penis to VUB students for a fee, usually together with the almost equally well-hung medical student Dirk Peetermans, he had slightly increased his rates, "indexed" them as it were. There was one exception: if Poireau was allowed to fuck her after the viewing, a girl didn’t have to pay. By no means was any of them allowed to take a picture of his cock. Frank Poireau was wary. You never knew where such photos could end up. He was too comfortable with Matrix Life Insurance to risk being thrown out because of his own stupidity.

The day before yesterday, he got that selfie from Gretchen Winkler. She worked in the reception at MLI. There she was on the phone, mostly giving information to German-speaking customers. Frank had never paid much attention to receptionist Gretchen. Now, he was looking closely at her selfie. She looked beautiful in her photo, but apparently, she was shy, even if she showed her naked boobies in the picture. She looked down, didn't dare look straight into the lens. Why was she shy? That was difficult to tell.

Frank contacted her, not at work, but with a text message on her phone. She would have liked to meet him, she replied. She preferred not to come to his apartment in Schaerbeek. She didn't think his neighborhood was safe enough with all those Moroccans wandering about day and night. That's why Frank went to see her around eight o'clock in the evening the next day. Gretchen lived in Ixelles, not far from Avenue Louise. There she had a one-bedroom apartment.

When Frank arrived at her place, it turned out that Gretchen was quite shy. She had dimmed the lights in her apartment. Frank thought she had deliberately plunged the apartment into semi-darkness to create the appropriate atmosphere. He was mistaken. Gretchen had done so to camouflage her imperfections: her skin wasn't tanned, but rosy as a piglet’s, her small breasts were nice but not really impressive, and she had rather flat buttocks.

In the beginning, the conversation between her and Frank Poireau was difficult. Frank did, however, quickly understand what Gretchen was aiming for. She was wearing a loose white tricot vest from which her titties almost fell out. It was clear to Frank what Gretchen expected.

So, there were not a lot of formalities between the two of them. Frank started fiddling with the buckle of his belt to see how Gretchen would react. He was stunned when she laid aside her shyness and said to him:

"I don't want to pay to see your dick, you know what I mean, don't you?"

Frank knew for sure what that meant. She didn't mind him having sex with her.

Their meeting in Ixelles wasn’t very romantic. Gretchen and Frank did, however, first drink a glass of white wine together. Frank didn't like the German Liebfraumilch. It was far too sweet for his taste.

Then they sat down on an antique Louis XVI settee in the living room. Gretchen, perhaps because of the wine, now became really enterprising and started fiddling with Frank's belt. He knew immediately what she meant. He undressed her, and she helped him undress. Meanwhile, his penis had erected. When Sanne pulled his underpants over his knees, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"What a massive truncheon you have got between your legs!" she said. “Then, it is true what they tell about you…”

Frank wanted to say it wasn't his fault he was shaped that way.

"Have you had your penis lengthened?” Gretchen asked as she continued to stare at his erect cock in astonishment.

"No, it just grew like that on its own,” said Frank, a bit indignant. “Do you find it abnormal?”

"Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Gretchen replied. “It’s different from the cocks I've seen between other guys’ legs. Yours is very large. It's not straight either. It's almost shaped like a banana, with that curvature and the glans pointing up. A very large banana indeed! And your glans…”

"What's wrong with my cockhead?" asked Frank.

"Well, it's thinner than the rest of your dick," Gretchen said. “It's the other way around with the dicks I've seen so far. When they are hard, the glans is thicker than the stem.”

"Yes, a medical student at the VUB once said that to me. He also had an impressive penis, not as big as mine, but when it was erect, its head was thicker than mine.”

"So you compared your cocks?” asked Gretchen.

"A little, yes. Dirk actually wanted to give me good advice.”

"To not let you stand out with that trunk in your pants?"

"No, to make money, so to speak.”

"To make money? What do you mean?"

"Well, Dirk was the son of a janitor with rich people in Brasschaat near Antwerp. His parents didn’t have a lot of money. He was able to pay for part of his medical studies at the VUB by showing his penis. Somewhere in a back room of a bar, students, and especially female students, would gather. They had to pay Dirk five euros per person to see his cock. If there were less than ten candidates, it remained in his pants. Dirk didn’t show his dick for less than fifty euros.”

"And was it stiff, like yours now?"

"No, it just hung between his legs. But for another five euros per person more, a girl from the audience was allowed to stroke Dirk's cock until it was swollen and stood up straight. Usually, there were enough candidates. And in most cases, it was the girl who with her soft warm hand had brought Dirk’s willy to life who got a good fuck from him that evening.”

"And you, did you?"

"Yes, Dirk thought it was a shame that such a beautiful fucking organ like mine wasn’t made public. That was his mischievous way of saying it. So I did, at the same rate as Dirk. I estimate that when I was at the VUB, almost five hundred fellow students came to admire my dick, for a fee. I guess that about three-quarters of them were girls. Now, I occasionally show my penis, but not as cheap as when I was still a student at the VUB.”

"And after the performance, did you do the same as your friend Dirk? Have sex with the girl who handled your cock?”

"Usually yes, I had. Not always. Sometimes my stiff cock did inspire some fear in girl students. Then, I wasn't allowed to fuck one.”

"What if we did it now?” asked Gretchen.

Frank Poireau had nothing against that. He crawled on top of Gretchen. She spread her legs very wide apart and said:

"Not too violently, please. And maybe don't try to put your dick all the way up my cunt either. With your size… I wouldn't want to have my puss ruined inside.”

Frank understood her worry because Gretchen was rather slender. He started carefully. But with careful thrusts, he didn't get inside her pussy. He felt with his hand between her labia if she wasn't too dry. That was not the case. Her labia gaped open and her pussy was soaking wet. That he couldn't get inside her was clearly due to the size of his erect cock. Yet, it also had to do with the sofa they were lying on. To begin with, their position was rather uncomfortable. In addition, the pillows were too soft. Every time Poireau shoved his lower abdomen forward to get into Gretchen’s fuck hole with his glans, he was really just pushing her ass down into the soft pillows.

Gretchen had understood what the problem was after a few failed penetration attempts.

"Come on, get up, off that couch," she said. “We're going to try something different. This way, nothing comes of it. We always sink into those pillows. And I'm so terribly hot, really about to burst, I am that horny."

Frank had already noticed that by her soaked cunt. He didn't know what she was up to. Suddenly, Gretchen asked him:

"When you cum, do you lose a lot of sperm?”

"That happens sometimes,” Frank replied. “If it's been a while since I've had sex. But usually not. It's not because my penis is so big that my testes make more sperm than with most other men."

That answer didn't seem to really reassure Gretchen. She got up from the couch and left for a while. Frank guessed she'd been to the bathroom because she came back with a big gray bath towel. She spread it out on the living room floor.

"Look, I don't know what to expect," she said apologetically. “There is very expensive wall-to-wall carpet here. It would be a real shame if we were to stain that.”

Gretchen was right about that. The tobacco-colored carpet was beautiful and it looked very expensive.

By now, Gretchen had completely lost her original shyness. She took Frank by the shoulders and made him lie on the bath towel with her. She took his cock like a club in her hand and worked it between her thighs.

"Come on boy, let's try it again," she laughed. “I bet it will work this time.”

That was true. Gretchen was now lying on a hard surface and Frank could no longer push her ass away into the pillows. After some clumsy fiddling, he still didn't manage to get inside Gretchen’s wet cunt with his glans. She did find something to make it work. She spread her legs as wide as she could and with her fingers, she opened her cunt invitingly. And then, suddenly, it happened. With a jolt, Frank shoved his glans into Gretchen’s gaping pussy. She was tense and rather narrow inside, but Frank was careful, and it went well. He couldn't shove his dick into her snatch on its full length. He tried, but he felt that his glans hit something hard. Gretchen let out a scream and said:

"Don't destroy my cervix. Please, take it easy.”

Frank did. With careful slow thrusts, he fucked Gretchen. She enjoyed it very much. Her eyes rolled away in their sockets and drool trickled from her mouth onto her cheek. And then, when Frank had moved inside her pussy for a little over five minutes, according to his estimate, Gretchen came. Her orgasm was intense. She lost a lot of fluids when she came. She squirted lust juice from her cunt for about ten seconds. It sprayed in waves from between her labia and wet the bath towel, as well as Frank's balls and his thighs.

Gretchen was in seventh heaven after her orgasm. Her face beamed as she said:

"You were good, so terribly good, Frank. I have never had such a wonderful time with anyone else. Come, now it's your turn.”

Frank didn't wait. A little less cautiously than before, his cock was going back and forth inside Gretchen. A few times, he touched her cervix. Then her face twisted, but Gretchen also encouraged him to keep going by clinging to him. And then, Frank came in her tight pussy. He didn't really lose a lot of sperm. When he had withdrawn his cock from her slit, he saw that some of his cum was flowing back from between Gretchen's labia. Just a little, not even enough to make the bath towel wetter…

© Robur Quercus 2022