Longboard (Desk Surfing Series Book 1)

  Longboard

  (Desk Surfing Series Book One)

  by Davila Eggert

  © Copyright 2016

  Chapters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Thanks

  I, of course, want to thank all the friends and family who tell me the things I need to hear. And I have to thank my other supporters for all the, you know. Thanks guys! Surfs Up!

  Longboard

  Chapter 1

  The more you care the more you lose. It's an old surfer's quote. The meaning is dumbed down nowadays. And so is surfing. Just about anyone can be called a surfer today. I guess that's why surfer sayings have been dumbed down, so anyone can understand them. When I rode waves in middle school and high school, a guy friend explained it to me. The more you care the more you lose is about how you feel when you ride waves. You shouldn't care too much how you look or who's looking at you. You surf because it's the only thing you want to be doing with your time at that moment. Now, it's a pro sport, an industry. You have to care. But if you grow up surfing in Hawaii, you don't grow up caring about being judged when you ride waves. Those that do end up bitter. They start thinking about a career. Never date a guy who thinks about surfing as a career. Like my guy friend told me years ago, you don't surf thinking about what people will say when you get off your board.

  But I was thinking about it. I was riding a wave but I wasn't at any beach. I wasn’t surfing. I was desk surfing. It’s an Island term for sleeping your way to the top of a male-dominated corporate ladder. Going down on your boss to move up. I was basically a piece of meat but I didn't feel like it. Meat's expensive and you buy it fresh. That night I was stale from a long day at the office. And I came pretty cheap. The only thing I had in common with meat was being sandwiched between two things worth a lot of bread. I was riding Longboard. Longboard is my boss, an insurance billionaire. He liked those old-school solid wood desks that probably cost my salary. It was like he thought the desk was made of memory foam. Because he went all in. There was no seduction, no point-scoring, just sex. My left leg was lodged against his right shoulder, making me an open target. He was hitting me hard enough to make that ping-pong sound, as patches of my skin absorbed each blow. It was strong, like being hit by a wave. He was pounding me like he forgot the table was solid mahogany. He wasn't thrusting. He didn't really go backwards. He just rammed his thick dick in me. It was good. I was so wet my vag just gave way. My heart skipped a few beats. He invited me into his office and it wasn't long after that he flipped me on his desk. I didn't have time to even see his dick nor grab hold. When it pierced me, I made the connection. It was huge. My heart stopped, realizing what I was dealing with but he was my boss. I had the same psychology as any work day. I didn't want to let him down. I got wet immediately, feeling the light pressure from his large tip. But as he slid in me further, my pussy had a WTF moment. The tip on most guys is the widest part, not with him. I could feel my pussy lips stretching, stretching. The more I could feel him the more I knew what I was in for. It made me feel acknowledged, not spared. He all but ignored me around the office. But having inch after solid inch survey every corner of my veejayjay, made me feel more than just full. It made me feel fulfilled. At least, I got some bonus cuz I didn't get a raise the past year. Still my mind kept wondering what would happen after.

  He was all the way inside me, playing racket ball with my ovaries. It didn't get more official. I had hooked up with my boss. But as much as I was missing a man inside me, I didn't want to be missing a paycheck. He was almost brutal, trying to punish me with all that size. He was going hard, which was great, but we barely talked during work hours. When we talked, it was all business. So why did he grab me and throw me on top of his desk? There were no subtitles or innuendos during our office convos. Or maybe I just didn't catch them. If a buff billionaire wants to have me on his desk, I'm game. But it had the tone of getting one last thing from me before he dismissed me. It was like a fantasy he wanted to live out before I was gone for good. I started thinking I'd have to move back in with my grandma because I had just enough savings to cover the last few months of my lease. My thoughts suddenly shifted to more immediate concerns. I don't have enough of a butt to keep me safe when being done on a mahogany desk. Lingerie ads are still the safest place for skinny bitches like me. Tempur-Pedic did more for my sex life than did KY. My Asian genetics left me with little cushion. Once the shock value of his fat cock wore off, I could feel his big prick pushing my flat ass into the desktop. I knew about the bruise on my tailbone before I even saw it. But he gave me a distraction. He clamped my wrists down on the desktop so hard it felt like my hands were being stapled. He pulled his legs through his suit pants but he still had his socks on. I couldn't see his socks. I felt them rubbing against my shins. Longboard didn't care. With his pants all the way off he seemed to get back to nature. His grip tightened around my wrist and he started to rock back-and-forth as he rammed me. His whole body was into it. It really felt like riding a wave. I could feel his chest bounce off my boobs. He didn't seem interested in them. He cupped them in the beginning, as a formality. I guess when he felt they were fake he lost interest. But he still had to get his balls drained, so he kept pegging me to the desk with his dick. Before long my pussy felt out-of-practice. It had been a few months since I had gotten laid. But that wasn't it. He was so long and so wide and so everywhere; I had to stay moist to keep comfy from that big cane pounding me. But my labia lips had been held too far apart for too long. I was beginning to dry out. His thick dick was so wide it cut through my moisture. But I had to focus up even if my vag couldn't keep up. I had to enjoy every last bit of my wet walls hugging his huge piece, while feeling it blasting through. Because I couldn't stay wet enough to lube up his massive cock forever. I could feel it start to deck the halls, rubbing against the walls of my vag. It was so wide it had me fully stretched and with the thinnest layer of lube as protection, I started to really feel like I was being fucked. Without the liquid, there was just the bits of my pussy dealing with a beast of a cock. It really came full circle how big his dick really was. I was pinned to the desk and he was full on hammering. He had control. That was the way he was used to having it. That was how he had me.

  I thought he might be open to a suggestion, anything to get him out of me for a few seconds to get my pussy out of panic mode.

  "Work it from the back." Was the most efficient thing I thought to say. He had to go out of me to let me change positions. His head cocked to the side like a dog that noticed something. He didn't say anything but he stopped his blitz. He was still in me. But for the moment, he wasn't working combos on my pussy with his dick. He released his grip on my wrist and sat up on the desk, canine-like. He seemed to have a thing against fake boobs, cuz he looked me in the eye, which made me feel cheated. It was four Gs worth of work that came out well. And it was right in front of his face but he didn't seem to care. If he thought real tits were the deal, he would have changed his mind when he saw my before pics. I called my natural boobs BBs because they were Barely Bs before I went under the knife. Before surgery, my nipples just stuck out on either side like ball bearings taped to my chest. Topless, I looked like I had two evenly spaced sores. Longboard's lack of interest in my boobs, that I had just finished paying for, gave me a slight fit of paranoia. But I thought I wouldn't have the opportunity to get fully sexed on a mahogany table, if he hadn't noticed me in the office in the first place. It's Hawaii. There are a lot of hot bodies that have been simmering in the sun. If fake boobs weren't his thing,
I was gonna make up for it by surfing the shit out of his cock while he banged me from the back.

  Longboard didn't say anything, not a thing. He just let me up and as I got up he fit his hands around my waist and twisted my hips. As he spun me around, I remembered my bikini strap. There was still a sign of the bikini strap because I sun-soaked the front on the weekend but clouds came over by the time I rolled over to the back and I had to meet friends for dinner, so there was a manila-colored line parting the solid-brown sea of my back. But I just kept my mind on his size. Sure he bucked the shit out of me and left me dry but I could feel every part of his pulsing penis. I missed it. Hawaii was like that, varied genetics. A lot of guys were so small they got lost in me. At least, that's how it felt or didn't feel. And you met guys who could fill your cup. But Longboard could fill a keg. He pulled me back by my waist and I could feel his first poke. And that was all it took. One poke woke my veejayjay and he slowly began to swipe my V-card. I could tell Longboard was seasoned. Even in the middle of a bang out session, he still came inside me slow. But he didn't go all the way in. Longboard knew a break meant he had to get my pussy wet again. A lot of dudes would just stick it right in, as if the pause was just to change positions. Longboard took time to get me started up again. He kept giving me a dick bump. It was a hard poke to my labia, like he was trying to force his way in. But then he slowly pulled his tip away. I noticed the intervals when his dick wasn't on me. They seemed longer than they were. Then he popped his soft tip at my vag lips. I felt the hard jolt of his dong pushing in me each time he bumped. He was ready to give it to me but the skin on his tip was so smooth, I wanted to feel that for the time being. It made a great plaything. He came at me in equal parts boy equal parts man. He bumped my pussy with that silk-tipped rod a few more times. Then he felt it was time to finish me off. I could feel his tip was slightly damp. He wanted to finish in me not on me. I appreciated it. Those dick bumps were getting him as wet as me. He slowly did a touch-n-go. He pushed in; pulled back a little, just a little. Then he pushed deeper and pulled that heavy cock backward. The next thing was unanticipated. He pushed it down and deep in as far as it could go. That was actually the first time I noticed how long it was. The shear girth of his penis was enough to make me glad my legs were spread when he plowed me missionary. I had to be as spread as possible to get stuffed with that thing.

  But getting my lady-bell rung from behind meant I couldn't spread my legs as wide. So I felt his width rubbing back-and-forth then pounding back-and-forth. Once he felt my vag salivate from the tip to the base of his cock he knew I was primed for the pounding. He grabbed my hips so hard it was like he was trying to fit them together. At the same time, he had the walls of my vag stretched as far as they could go. It was such a tight fit that when I came, I didn't know if it was his cum or mine. I could just feel the area--the cream in my cookie. It was like seeing a wet floor sign, looking down and saying What wet floor? The sign meant the floor was wet. But you couldn't tell where. It was just when I felt his huge tip thumping the back wall of my vag that I knew he hadn't blown his load yet. No way he was that big if he finished already. I had to help him out. He was boning me so hard that I was bound to get sore. While he was banging me missionary, it started to feel like being popped with a towel in the locker room. It hurt but the pain came and went. It wasn't just the force. It was also the sting. But my veejayjay was nice and lubed up, so his rigid dick just melted right into me but I couldn't stay slippery-wet forever. Eventually my pussy would dry up and I would be pushed by his horse cock with nothing but the skin on my vag. My hips were right above my thighs so they made a nice lever that gave me some momentum to rock up-and-down on his cock. I went back and forth to match his rhythm as he punished my pussy. I did circles around the circumference of his dick just moving my hips and bracing myself with my forearms on the desktop. While I was doing donuts on his dick, I looked down at my stationary rack and thought of one thing, thank God for fake tits. Big boobs were probably God's greatest invention. Fake boobs were man's. I didn't like the idea of my boobs just flopping all over the place getting stretched and misshapen. That is what happens. While your boobs bounce they begin to stretch. My fake boobs just stood guard. But my pussy was under attack.

  I tightened my butt cheeks and flexed my thigh muscles to help me clamp down on his cock. Then I milked his dick like it was early morning. I just kept churning my hips up, over and down on his cock. I rested my weight on my left forearm and used my right hand to take the long barrette out of my hair. It was nice to have my hair out and about. I liked the primal feeling of it. He did too. It gave him a barometer to see how hard he was fucking me. That's probably why he didn't like my boob job. No matter how nice, there was always a difference. Fake boobs could look better, but real ones were more useful. When he was giving it to me while on top, he couldn't see my boobs jiggling to see how hard he was doing me. I know he thought he was banging me hard but the tits were the real test. Since I didn't have real boobs, it was a dead end. But doing me doggy-style was no difference. Even if I had some natural tig ol' bitties, he couldn't see them bouncing from behind. That's why the hair set him on a rampage. He was giving it to me like he was being filmed. It was hard and rough. I could hear the smack into my flat butt every time he thrusted. Then...

  He did something I didn't expect. He reached around and grabbed my right boob. When he could see them, he ignored them. But he was trying to navigate his fingers through my faded silk-red dye job to feel some nipple and skin. I raised my elbow up off the desktop and flipped my hair down the left side of my back. I grabbed his hand and planted it on my right breast. He squeezed the shit out of my skin forcing it down against the silicon bag inside. It was abrupt and caught me off guard. I'm a big girl and went back to spurring his dick with my pussy lips tight around his cock. But the abrupt shock of him squeezing my boob, sent a dry spell down to my V--. And my thighs were getting tired. The stinging in my thighs reminded me of the stinging in my vag when Longboard dried me out the first time, pinning me down on the desk. I knew I had to make him blow his wad if I could help it. I bent my head down. Through my pretty-much-perfect 34C rack, I looked for something serious. The things that helped him build the third largest insurance company in Hawaii--his balls. I held out two fingers and poke his balls. Then I just held them in place so that as he beat his longboard into me, his balls banged against my two fingers. It got his balls back in the game. I extended one more finger like I was making the number three. I grabbed his dangling ball sack with my three fingers, one on the outer left, one on the outer right and one in between his man oysters. I rocked my fingers side-to-side giving his balls a volley. It was hard to maintain my three-finger grip on his boys, as they flew back-and-forth. He was working me like industry. But an ex told me it was a great way to make him cum quicker and harder. Not all penises were created equal but balls were basically the same. If it worked on one dude, it'd work on just about all of them. That particular boyfriend used to be gay so his experience with making guys cum was legit. So I rocked Longboard's rocks between my three fingers. I kept working his man jewels, till I felt his dick begin to expand inside me. As if I needed his dick any bigger as I was drying out, but he slowed down his rhythm. The slowed rhythm was welcome but his thrusts were massive--bang---bang---bang. And I have a flat ass. It was hard to take those hits. I felt his thrusts rattle my spine. But I felt something else, jizz. Not mine, his.

  I guess it was that Law of Attraction, leverage the universe mindset. I couldn't take too much more of his dinging me so deep. But I was already pounded out when he blew. The timing couldn't have been better. I was exhausted and so was he. But I won the Pogo Lottery, when you're being boinked by a dude with a monster-sized dick. The idea is can you make him blow his load before it really starts to hurt? I was getting there but you feel that tight squeeze and you know he's as big as he can get and next comes that man chowder. It was fun listening to him cum. It was almost like he had the hiccups or something. He ca
me for like fifteen seconds and sounded like he was ten seconds from the finish line of the Hapalua. It was just the exhale at the finish, not much left but giving it everything he had. And he let out a loud pant after he squeezed his last drop. He released my waist and for about eight seconds, I could still feel the shock of him slamming into my butt cheeks with his power thrusts. I guess it was a good thing I had so little rump to wreck but it gave me no cushioning, no protection. My butt felt numb. I rolled over on my right size. I figured if he was going to look at anything it should be my fake rack over my flat ass. At least one looked nice. I posed. It was a Bettie Page pose. I had both hands on his desk and my hips had to do some heavy-lifting to try to make my body look curvy. I had that Hawaiian beach girl bod, not the Italian Riviera bod. I tried to make five feet and five inches of lean body look like a cover model, just to give him a last image before he went to sleep. He was looking away from the desk down at the floor. I guess for a forty year-old that was a bit of a workout. Plus there was the naughtiness of doing it on his desk. We had just finished working on the PowerPoint slides that were part of the next day's presentation. An investment fund was meeting with us because we were the reinsurers of some annuities that were held by the pension fund for the Hawaii State Coastal Resource Commission. They just wanted us to give them a spiel about how our business was doing. We called them the Beach Sweepers. They were the ones that maintained the beaches all over Hawaii. But we had a meeting with the representatives of their retirement package in eleven hours. Longboard didn't seem to care.

  "We havin' fun yet?" Stupid me.

  "Gettin' there," said Longboard.

  "Gettin' where?"

  "Conference room," said Longboard.

  "The conference room."