Her First Look at My 4 Inch Cock

Cody was nineteen and his palms were already slick when Chloe shut the apartment door behind them. She was twenty-four, a junior graphic designer who lived alone in a one-bedroom with a couch that still smelled like new fabric, and she had been the one to text him after three weeks of late-night messages that never quite turned into a date until tonight. He had told her he was a virgin. She had written back that she liked that, that she wanted to be his first if he still wanted her to be. He did. He had wanted it the whole bus ride over, the whole time she poured two glasses of cheap wine neither of them really drank, the whole time her mouth found his in the hallway.

She kissed like she meant it. Her tongue was slow and certain. Her hands went under his shirt and mapped the skinny ladder of his ribs, the faint trail of hair below his navel. Cody’s cock had been hard since the stairwell. Four inches when it stood, one inch around, a pale little column that had never been seen by anyone except himself and the bathroom mirror. He had jerked it every night thinking about this exact sequence: her pulling his pants down, her seeing it, her deciding anyway.

They made it to the bedroom without turning on the overhead light. The lamp on her nightstand threw a warm cone across the rumpled white sheets. Chloe peeled her own blouse off first, then the black bra, and her breasts were heavier than he had imagined, nipples already tight. She took his hands and put them on her. He squeezed too gently at first. She made a small encouraging sound and arched, and that was enough to make his hips twitch.

“Pants,” she said against his mouth. “I want to see you.”

Cody’s fingers fumbled at his belt. She laughed once, low, and batted his hands away. She dropped to her knees on the rug. The zipper came down with a bright little rasp. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and his boxers together and dragged everything to his thighs in one motion.

His cock sprang up and then just sat there, four inches of it, the head a flushed pink acorn, the shaft so slender her first two fingers could have closed around it with room to spare. One inch of girth. It looked almost like a thick finger that had decided to get erect. A single clear bead sat at the slit.

Chloe went still. Her eyes stayed on it. Cody felt the heat climb his throat, the old familiar shame mixed with the desperate hope that she would not laugh and send him home. He had pictured this moment so many times it had its own temperature.

She did not laugh. She looked up at his face, then back down, and her expression shifted into something private and intent. She wrapped her right hand around him. Her fingers overlapped. The whole of him disappeared inside the circle of her palm and then reappeared when she stroked, the head peeking out like it was shy.

“Oh,” she said. Not unkind. Curious. “That’s… that’s really small, Cody.”

“I know.” His voice came out cracked. “I told you I was—”

“You told me you were a virgin. You didn’t tell me this.” She gave him another slow pump. Her thumb smeared the bead of wetness over the tiny head. He jerked. Precome welled again immediately, more of it than the size of him seemed able to hold. “Does it even get harder than this?”

“This is it. This is as hard as it gets.”

She studied him the way she might study a thumbnail sketch she had not expected. Then she leaned in and kissed the head. Her lips covered it completely. Her tongue flicked, and Cody’s knees almost went. She sucked him into her mouth and there was nothing left to suck; he bottomed out against her soft palate on the first inch of travel. She hummed. The vibration ran straight into his balls, which were tight and high and ordinary-sized, out of proportion to the cock above them.

Chloe pulled off with a wet pop. “You’re going to come the second I put you in me, aren’t you.”

He nodded. He would have agreed to anything.

She stood, shoved her own skirt and panties down, and sat on the edge of the bed. She spread her knees. Her pussy was already shiny, the inner lips a deeper color than the rest of her. She reached for him, took that four-inch cock between two fingers again, and tugged him forward by it until he stood between her thighs.

“Look at me while I do this,” she said.

He looked. She notched the little head against her entrance. The contrast was obscene. Her opening was a soft, wet mouth that could have taken something three times the thickness; his cock looked like a guest that had shown up to the wrong party. She pushed. The head slipped in. Then the shaft. There was almost no stretch. She took all of him in one easy glide, and when her pubic bone met his there was still a visible gap, a space where a thicker man would have been filling her.

Cody made a sound he did not recognize. The heat of her was everywhere at once, a slick sleeve that barely had to work to hold him. He could feel every ridge of her, every flutter, because there was so little of him to feel it with. She rolled her hips experimentally. He slid in and out of her like a well-oiled finger. Her inner walls clenched and the clench almost pushed him out.

“Stay in,” she whispered. She locked her ankles behind his ass, not that she needed the leverage. “Fuck me. I want to feel you try.”

He tried. His hips snapped forward. The wet sound was small and obscene, a soft kiss instead of a slap. He was so thin that her arousal ran down his shaft and dripped off his balls onto the floor. Chloe watched the place they were joined, watched that skinny pale cock appearing and disappearing, and she started touching her clit with two fingers, fast and practiced.

“You’re not even stretching me,” she said, the words coming between breaths. “I can barely tell you’re inside except you’re so hot and you’re leaking. God, you’re leaking a lot for something that little.”

Cody’s vision tunched at the edges. He had never been inside anyone. The novelty and the humiliation and the perfect wet grip of her were braided together so tight he could not pick them apart. He thrust harder. His pubic bone tapped hers. Four inches was all the travel he had. She took it and kept rubbing herself, her other hand coming up to pinch her own nipple.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said.

“Tight. You’re so—fuck—you’re so wet I can hear it. I can feel you squeezing and I’m not even filling you.” The confession tore out of him. “I know I’m small. I know you could take a real cock. I still want to come in you. Please let me come in you.”

“I already said you could.” Her fingers sped up on her clit. Her pussy fluttered around his little shaft, a series of milking pulses that had nothing to do with being stretched and everything to do with her chasing her own orgasm while he happened to be there. “You’re my virgin with the four-inch cock and you’re going to pump whatever you’ve got into me. Do it. I want to feel that tiny thing twitch.”

He lasted eleven more strokes. On the twelfth his whole body locked. The climax started at the base of his spine and detonated outward with a force that felt too large for the equipment. His cock jerked inside her, a frantic little spasming that she could probably only feel because she was paying attention. He came hard, ropes of it, more volume than the size of him had any right to produce. It overflowed immediately. White spilled out around the thin seal of her lips around his shaft and ran down his balls, down her ass, onto the sheets. He kept coming, hips stuttering, making broken noises against her shoulder while she worked her clit through her own peak.

Chloe’s orgasm arrived half a beat later. She clamped down and the clamp almost ejected him; he had to grind forward to stay buried. Her thighs shook. A fresh rush of her wetness mixed with his come and made an audible squelch. She held him there, breathing hard, until the last aftershock left her.

They stayed like that for a minute. His cock was already softening, shrinking from four inches toward something even less impressive, slipping out of her on its own. A thick string of mixed come connected the little head to her pussy for a second before it broke.

Chloe looked down at the mess, then at his face. She was flushed, sweaty at the temples, smiling in a way that was not quite pity and not quite triumph.

“You’re going to think about this every time you jerk off now,” she said. “Me seeing it. Me taking it anyway. Me coming while you were barely in there.”

Cody swallowed. He was still standing between her legs, jeans around his ankles, his spent cock glistening and shrunken. “Yeah.”

She reached out and gave the sticky little thing a fond, almost affectionate pinch. “Good. Because I already want to do it again. Next time I’m going to sit on your face first until I’m dripping, then I’m going to put this back in and see how many times I can make you come before it won’t even stay hard. You’re going to text me tomorrow. You’re going to tell me you got hard on the bus thinking about my pussy swallowing your whole cock and still having room. And then we’re going to do this in the afternoon, with the blinds open, so I can watch it the whole time.”

She said it like a plan already in motion. Cody, nineteen, first time over, four inches and one inch of girth still twitching with aftershocks, already knew he would do every piece of it. He was already scheming the wording of the text, the time of day, the way he would walk in and drop his pants for her without being asked, just so he could watch her look at him again.