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Related article: Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray WilderPreface and Chapter 1: ChrisThis is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental.Copyright � 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywildaol.com========================================PREFACE AIDS and pornography. I promised myself I wasn't going to justify the writing of this fantasy, but something does need to be said on these two subjects, if only so you will know what direction this book is coming from. The actions of the characters in this book do not take into account the realities of life in this day and age. I do not condemn these characters. However, those who would emulate their sexual lifestyle by having no consideration for the spread of AIDS or any of the other terrible communicable diseases which plague us today, not to mention total disregard for birth control, should be considered foolish, selfish and, most of all, dangerous. It is very possible, probable even, that some will view this book as pornography. To me, pornography is the degradation of any group of humans by another group in pursuit of their own sexual gratification. I have tried, in the course of this fantasy, to portray each character, regardless of the group to which they belong, as equal participants. My intention -- my goal -- was to never, ever hurt anyone. There. I've said it. The bottom line is fun. This isn't brain surgery or the new Magna Carta. Should you find this book to your liking please consider making a donation to a national or local organization which supports AIDS research or the treatment and care of persons with AIDS. Every one should live long enough to read a book of this great length. Enjoy! And don't forget to breathe.R.W. =====================================CHAPTER 1: CHRIS Big. Beautiful. Bulging. Chris was doing the dishes in her kitchen when he pulled up to the back of the building in an orange rental truck, got out and started moving his stuff into the empty apartment next door to hers. She stared out the window at him, six stories down in the parking lot, for what became an indeterminate amount of time. He wore a pair of cut-offs and T-shirt, both of which seemed far too small to contain the various parts of his body they were enclosing. As he reached into the rear of the truck she could see his muscles swell under the strain of whatever he was lifting out of the vehicle. Most of what he moved seemed to be furniture, but there was some that appeared to be weight-lifting equipment. No surprises there. At one point he took a break, resting in the open door of the truck. As he lay back on the inner deck, his cut-offs rode up and proved their inability to contain whatever it was he had stuffed in behind that zipper. She was pretty sure he wasn't wearing underwear because what peeked out through the leg hole was very flesh colored and very thick. Only the fact that the shorts were so tight kept his apparently enormous cock from falling out into full view. His legs were thick with muscles that rippled with each step that he took. His upper arms were like loaves of bread topped off by shoulders like cantaloupes that tested the strength of his T-shirt. She imagined him reaching into the truck and pulling out some especially heavy item, a set of weights perhaps, and lifting it, only to have the muscles of his arms bulge so much the frequently tested fabric would eventually give way and those massive deltoids would rip through the fabric. After several trips into the building with his belongings he began to sweat and the T-shirt became translucent. His pecs were outlined in detail and, on those few occasions when he turned towards the building before picking up another arm-load, she could make out his abdominals, plastered against the moist fabric, looking like he had swallowed a washboard. Each time he carried a load his pecs would expand and rise proudly on his chest. She reached for her nipples, which were quite erect and beginning to ache deliciously, and ran her thumb across them. She delighted in the feeling of the fabric of her shirt rubbing against the sensitive flesh of her rock hard nipples and the firm, full breasts on which they perched. The sight of his bulging, swelling muscles and huge cock outlined against his clothing was Lolita Toplist making her very horny. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful fantasy, so she ran her hand down over her crotch and rubbed the mound, not the least bit surprised to feel moisture already flooding out of her. Chris looked back out the window just in time to see him enter the building with another load . He didn't return immediately so she figured it would take him a few minutes to make the round trip up the elevator to the sixth floor, dump the stuff and return. She sat down at the kitchen table, spread her legs, threw her head back and thrust her finger up into her vagina, enjoying the warmth that immediately spread out through her body. A few seconds of this, wishing for something much more substantial to take her fingers' place, then she went to work on her clitoris. She was very close already and so took herself by surprise with the rapidity and intensity of the orgasm. A brief flash of the image of this powerful man inside her, his huge chest bulging as he thrust into her, his cock stretching her to limits she could not quite fathom, powerful jets of cum hurtling from the head of his dark, hard, blood-engorged cock, flinging her to that almost mythical level of sexual attainment, a full-blown, earth-shattering, crotch-flooding, vaginal orgasm. She screamed. Not moaned. Screamed. She had put her feet up against the edge of the table and, during the course of her pleasures, had begun to lean back in the chair. As she climaxed her legs tensed and inadvertently pushed her over backwards, hitting her head on the refrigerator as she fell to the floor. She lay there for a few moments, trying to regain her grasp of reality but not wanting to let go of the fantasy she had just enjoyed. At first she thought maybe her head was pounding, but nothing seemed to hurt, so she figured what Lolita Toplist was pounding was the door. Someone at the door. She had a pretty good idea/hope who.
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