Big Dicks

“One easy way to tell a cetacean from a fish is by the tail. A fish’s tail is vertical, straight up and down. The tail of a cetacean, like a dolphin, is horizontal; it spreads out from side to side.”

I’m listening to Dr. Demarbre give a lecture to a crowd of visitors to the Dolphin Institute in Honolulu, where I’m doing an internship while working on a Master’s degree with a concentration on the behavior of social animals. I’m just along for the ride, and much of what she’s telling the group is review for me, which is a good thing, because I can’t concentrate, because I can’t stop thinking about fucking Dr. Demarbre.

It started this morning, when we were introduced. It’s my first day at the Institute, and she’ll be supervising my internship. She greeted me in the lobby, and I was surprised to be met by someone so young, or at least who seemed to be young; I really have no idea how old she is. She’s quite small and lean, and her face is unlined, betraying no indication of her age. She’s completely businesslike, but I just couldn’t help it; being a man, I immediately had to start sizing her up as sexual partner.

Well, my first thought was, “She’s not my type at all.” As I say, she’s lean, skinny even, with an almost entirely flat chest, though the air conditioning did make her nipples stand out through her polyester shirt, which is always enticing. She wears her long, straight chestnut hair pulled back from a relatively plain face, with thin lips, hazel eyes peering out through wire-rimmed glasses, and a long beaky nose (though this last wasn’t necessarily a problem. Have you ever seen Streisand in “What’s Up Doc?”? Damn.) It didn’t really hit me, though, until she turned around to lead me on a tour of the facility, and that’s when I saw her ass.

In contrast to the rest of her frame, her buttocks were like twin soccer balls, straining against the fabric of her khakis. I was riveted, and instantly the image sprang into my mind of bending her over, and my hands tightly cupping those twin globes, raising their flesh between my fingers, as I drove my… well, you get the idea.

What can I say? The oddest things sometimes attract me, and I was hooked. I was only half-aware of the tour, unable to pull my gaze from that glorious, tight-yet-fully-rounded behind waggling in front of me, and the fantasies it engendered in my libidinous mind.

“You’ll also notice the dolphins lack gills on their sides, like fish have. Instead, cetaceans breathe air directly through the blowhole on top of the head.”

Blow. Hole. If she weren’t talking about dolphins, I’d be convinced she was doing this on purpose.

Her lecture goes on for another twenty-five minutes, taking in the major interest points of the Institute’s public portion. Once she finishes, the crowd dissipates, and Dr. Demarbre steps up to me again. I savor a momentary mental image of my come covering her face.

“So, now you have an idea of what I do here. Working with me, you’ll be expected to assist me in, and become familiar with, all these day to day activities. From time to time, I’ll attach you to some other researchers and departments, where you’ll do other things, some boring, some interesting. Of course, time will be provided for you to do your own research, and you’ll also be allowed to run your own experiments with the dolphins, pending approval escort kartal from the Director, of course. Any questions?”

Your place or mine? “When do we start?”

“Well, officially we start tomorrow morning. If you’re available, though, why don’t you meet me back here about 7 PM? I can show you how the place is run overnight.”

“I’m at your service!” Doing my best to drop the subtlest hints possible.

“Wonderful. I have some office work to do on my own until then. In the meantime, I recommend you get some dinner; there’s an excellent sushi restaurant on Memorial. See you tonight.”

“By all means.” She spins on one heel and stalks off down the corridor, treating me to one more long look at that gloriously swaying behind.

She wasn’t wrong: the sushi is damn good. I’m distracted, though, turning over in my mind every word she said, every gesture she made throughout the day, wondering if I have some “in” there somewhere. Was there some ulterior motive in her invitation to meet her in the evening? Come on, I say, it’s her workplace. There’s gotta be a dozen night watchmen, and every inch of the place is probably on security camera. Besides, she’s all business, focussed on nothing but her work. You focus on your work.

I can’t help it, though. As I nibble a tiny construction of raw tuna, its cool pink meat, and oceany taste mingled with the tang of lemon juice, conjure a fantasy of my tongue buried up the hilt in Dr. Demarbre’s pussy. I finish the meal with a hard-on.

No chance, I think. There’s no way she has anything planned for you other than showing you more of the Institute. But still. If there’s even the tiniest possibility that something might happen tonight, I want to be ready. I shower, run the electric razor over my face, and select the least wrinkled fresh clothes from my luggage (no time for the iron).

There’s a light rain falling as I pull into the parking lot of the Institute. The mist is refreshing. The guard checks my ID and buzzes me through the gate, and I wonder if his jaunty wink is just amiability, or betrays some knowing.

Dr. Demarbre emerges from a side door to meet me, still dressed in her Institute uniform. For the first time, her face bears a slight smile. “You’ve changed. That shirt suits you.”

This is promising. “Thanks.”

“Follow me.” Oh, gladly. That fabulous posterior pulls me forward like a magnet. She takes me through narrow, white-painted corridors, a stark contrast to the pastels and flowing lines of the public areas. We pass doors to labs and offices, decorated with “Far Side” cartoons and pictures of sea life.

“This area is off-limits to the public, but you’ll be able to access it once we get your ID and pass key printed up tomorrow.”

“Great.” I take a stab at a compliment. “Do you work out, Dr. Demarbre?”

She stops and stares over her shoulder at me through those glasses. Uh-oh. But… “I swim quite a bit. And call me Sheila.”

She opens one door, and leads me into what looks like a break room. There’s a couch, a table, sink, fridge, microwave… but the most striking feature is a huge round window, looking right into the dolphin tank. The water is dark, but moonlight filters down through it, softly illuminating the room with a wavy blue.

“Wow,” I say, and I step up to peer through the glass.

“It’s maltepe escort quite something, isn’t it? The dolphins are probably sleeping right now; I’m going to leave the lights off to avoid waking them. During the day, though, it’s quite a show.” She joins me at the window as a large shadow flits by. “Oh, there goes one, still awake.”

“I’m very lucky to be here.” I turn to look at her, and she boldly meets my eyes and holds my gaze. I get a little nervous – the good kind of nervous.

“It wasn’t luck.”


“I requested you personally. Your resume was impressive, of course, but I also read the paper you had published in ‘Marine Sciences Review’ last spring. It was good. The real clincher, though, was the author’s photo.” One corner of her mouth kinks up in a half smile. I’m in!

She steps towards me and takes off her glasses, and I realize I haven’t noticed until now how beautiful those hazel eyes are. “What do you know about dolphin sex, Steven?”

My mouth goes dry, but I put up a brave front. “It’s brief, but frequent. Sometimes violent. Individuals couple freely…”

“Sometimes with the same sex.” She comes a little closer.


“But that’s not what you’re interested in.”

“Not in the least.” I move to meet her, and the rest is automatic. My mouth meets her small, wet one. She kisses me hard, bringing her teeth into play. My hands explore her back; I can feel strong muscles over her scapulae, and the cords and trench of the lumbar region, just over that amazing bottom. We come up for air.

“You shaved.”


“Next time, don’t.”

We kiss again, and I send a hand up under her shirt to cover her dorsal region, free of the obstacle of a bra strap. She parts from me just long enough to shrug that shirt off, revealing her petite torso in full. I cup my other hand over one breast, covering it with room to spare, and roll her nipple between two fingers. She squeaks, dolphin-like, into my mouth at the stimulation. She intertwines my hair with her fingers, and pulls my face into hers, intensifying the kiss even further; our teeth scrape lightly.

I barely even notice when she undoes my own shirt and slips it off me, but I sure as hell notice a few seconds later when she starts fiddling with the fasteners on my pants. My stiff cock springs out, like dolphin leaping from the surf, and she kneels and takes it into her mouth.

Mmm. She sucks it like she needs it to live, squeezing my buttocks and pulling my hips forward to drive the hard thing further into her throat. She sucks it so hard it hurts a little, which I find I kind of like. All the while she’s making little noises of appreciation, and undoing her own pants, which drop to the floor, revealing a severely cut blue thong. She lowers a hand to slide the crotch of those panties aside and pushes three fingers into herself. The scent of her moist cunt zooms into my nostrils; my dinnertime fantasy comes back to me, and I’m overcome by an urge to tongue that cleft, but she cuts to the chase. Unmouthing my dick with a wet POP, she says, “You’d better be ready put this into me now.”

Ready? My prick is literally aching to enter her. I lift her up onto the table; she’s slipped off her pumps at some point, making it easy for her to kick her pants completely off. I have to pendik escort bayan work my own shoes and socks off with my feet. I grip my cock with one hand and work it to keep the distraction from flagging my arousal. She watches me from the table, alternately dipping a finger into herself and running it slick over her labia and clit.

I move forward. She wraps her legs around me and puts her pussy-wet hands on my shoulders to guide and encourage me, and I dive into her. Unh. She’s good and tight. “Oh, yeah,” she says, and I feel her muscles down there grip me like a fist. She raises her ass off the table, using me for support, and drives me into her up to the hilt.

My first thrusts set her gasping, and then she’s bucking against me with increasing intensity. Her gasps turn to small cries, and then to moans, and then she’s shouting at me, “Oh, you’re good, you’re good.” The movement of her hips drives her pubic bone hard into the base of my penis, again and again, another exquisitely pleasurable pain. The hard points of her fingernails pressing into the meat of my shoulders adds to the chorus of my singing nerves. My own pleasure mounts, and I’m worried I’ll explode inside her, ending this much too soon, but then her noises cut off abruptly, she falls back onto the table, and something happens I’ve only ever heard about before: a gush of clear fluid rushes out of her, forcing my dick out and soaking my groin and thighs.

“Jesus,” I say, and she’s lying there quivering and laughing. I realize she’s beautiful when she’s laughing.

“Phew. Nice job.” She sits up and starts pulling on my wet prong. “Your turn. How do you want to get off?”

The question I’ve been waiting for all day. “I want you from behind.”

“You got it.” She slaps the tabletop and flips over onto all fours, and that heavenly rear is spread like a new country before me. Between the creamy globes of her buttocks, her tiny pink anus winks at me; below that, her dripping snatch invites me to return. I cup one cheek in each hand, savoring their yielding firmness, and push my cock back into her. It’s not long before we’ve built back into a fast rhythm, our bodies slapping wetly as they pound together. She starts crying out again, and I brave slowing down long enough to massage her asshole with a moistened thumb, then gently slip it inside her.

“Mm-hmm. You know, you can shove it in there too, if you want.”

“Later. I’m close…”

“Go for it. But if you come inside me, you’re fired.”

Her threat doesn’t stop the feeling welling up in me: like my nerves vibrating, starting from my groin and spreading sympathetically through my torso and extremities. I pull myself out of her just in time and grip my penis to ensure completion and aim. Like a whale spouting, my jet of white fluid, the stored product of a full day’s pent-up need, arcs through the air to land on Dr. DeMarbre’s – Sheila’s – ass, on her back, in her hair. She reaches back and rubs the stuff into her skin. My knees buckle as she turns her naked self, slick with sweat and my come, to face me.

“Well done. You’ll be expected to perform that task at least once a day, if you stay with us. Do you think you can manage that?”

I’m still recovering from the release, but I answer in the affirmative.

“Good.” She starts to dress. “Now, go home and get a good night’s sleep. The real work starts tomorrow.”

The real work? Jesus. As I pull up my pants, the dolphin slides back into view in the window. Maybe it just seems that way because they have their eyes on the sides of their heads, but I swear to God it winks at me.

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