Subject: Heather    Age: 31   Hair: Blond    Cup: DD? E?   Location: a bar in Kansas    

Finally we were alone in the corner. It was still kind of dark, but we were both drunk and horny. She had been flirting with me all night. I told her my full size and she said...

"It doesn't matter how little you are soft."

I stood there with a pleading look on my face and the realization dawned on her. She looked down, saw my "tent," and stifled a laugh behind her hand. She was drunk enough to put a lot of emphasis on her attempt to whisper, so that I barely heard her, but the word was clear. "Really?"

Before I could even nod, she grabbed for it. Her hand encompassed my hard shaft entirely through my jeans.

"You'd disappear between my tits." She said it matter-of-factly. It was undeniably true, even in her imagination.

While she did this, she squeezed my mousey toy, not moving her wrist, but with her fist pulsing quickly, tightly once, twice... and she continued even after I came, the third, fourth... but by then she felt the moistness of my seed against her hand on my pants.

Instantly, Heather threw up her hands and burst into drunkenly loud laughter. I swear everyone in the bar turned and looked. Blushing uncontrollably, I covered my cum stain with my hand and fled into the men's bathroom.

I was drunk and totally turned on, even though I just came all over myself, so after cleaning the semen out of my underwear and my pubic hair there in the stall, I waited, jerking off as quietly as I thought I could.

Heather and I weren't standing too far from the bathroom when she'd grabbed me, and she hadn't moved. She was like a sentinel, sticking her butt out in tight jeans, pouty lips and cocked pinky finger awaiting to show me my full shame.

I could hear her friends come over and start asking what happened. She told them all, and there was another chorus of laughter. I jerked off even harder, not realizing that if I could hear them plainly, they could hear me, too.

One of her friends said it, I don't know who, but it was the beginning of what I remember most of that conversation (other than feeling a fresh surge of arousal every time one of them laughed). "It fit in your hand? How is he jacking off if he can't even stroke it? Oh my God!"

And Heather shouted into the bathroom door, "Have fun jerking it with two fingers, little boy!" 

She had meant it as an insult, but, still being only semi-erect again and not having enough to fill up my hand, it was undeniably true that I was doing it that way. I groaned as I came again at the realization, almost instantly on hearing her say "two fingers" and "little." A fresh peal of laughter headed out the bar.

I waited until I thought it was safe, wrapped tightly in my coat, and made my way out as discreetly as possible. I blushed like an ambulance.