Extender's Embrace: A Giant's Delight

The rain hammered against the windows of our secluded cabin, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my own heart. Eighteen years. Eighteen years of comfortable routine, of shared breakfasts and quiet evenings, of a love that felt like a warm, familiar blanket. Then, she’d brought home the toys. It started subtly, a hesitant exploration, a playful curiosity that quickly spiraled into something far more intense. It began with a small vibrator, sleek and black, that she’d hidden in the back of her lingerie drawer. I'd caught her one night, her fingers tracing the smooth plastic casing, a small smile playing on her lips. It was an innocent gesture, a secret indulgence, but it opened the floodgates.

We started slowly, just experimenting, discovering the pleasure she found in the sensation of touch. Then, I bought a penis extender. I'm not the biggest man downstairs, you see, and she always seemed to enjoy the added length. The extender, made of polished chrome, felt alien in my hand, a mechanical enhancement to my already considerable size. Eight inches. That’s what it made me. A towering monolith of pleasure, ready to deliver a torrent of sensation. She shrieked with delight when I first slipped it on, her eyes wide with a primal excitement that sent shivers down my spine. It wasn't just about the physical difference; it was about the power I suddenly held, the ability to push her to the very edge of ecstasy.

Now, I’m grappling with the next step, the ultimate expression of our shared lust. She wants more. She craves more. And I, caught in the throes of this escalating desire, find myself compelled to indulge her every whim. The question weighs heavily on my mind: how many women truly enjoy using dildos during intercourse? Is it a niche pleasure, confined to a select few, or a widespread desire lurking beneath the surface of polite society? And if they do, what size is ideal? A small, discreet pleasure, or a monumental, overwhelming experience?

I’ve been scouring the internet, wading through forums and chat rooms filled with anonymous users sharing their experiences, their fantasies, their darkest secrets. The responses are varied, ranging from enthusiastic endorsements of colossal dildos to horrified objections to the very idea. There's no consensus, no easy answer. It seems the perfect size is as subjective as the pleasure itself, dependent on individual anatomy, experience, and, of course, desire.

But my thoughts are firmly fixed on one particular size: twelve inches. It's audacious, almost obscene, but she’s been hinting at it lately, a subtle suggestion in her voice, a lingering touch on my thigh. It feels like a challenge, a test of our commitment, a declaration of my devotion. I’m going to buy her a twelve-inch dildo. A behemoth of silicone, designed to dominate and conquer.

The anticipation is almost unbearable. I’ve ordered it from a discreet online retailer, ensuring the utmost discretion. The delivery is scheduled for tomorrow morning, and I’m pacing the floor of the cabin, unable to sleep, consumed by a potent mix of excitement and anxiety.

Tonight, we'll set the mood. I'll light some candles, dim the lights, and put on some music – something sensual, something that will heighten our senses. I'll dress in my most alluring attire, a tight-fitting silk shirt and a pair of tailored trousers, designed to accentuate my newly extended form. She’ll wear a lace negligee, revealing just enough to tantalize my eyes.

As the rain continues its relentless assault on the cabin walls, we’ll begin. First, we’ll engage in a slow, deliberate massage, focusing on her erogenous zones – her neck, her breasts, her inner thighs. I'll use my hands, my mouth, my entire body to explore every inch of her skin, building anticipation, drawing her deeper and deeper into the vortex of desire.

Then, I’ll introduce the dildo. It will feel strange at first, alien in its size and shape, but as she becomes accustomed to its presence, she’ll find herself losing control, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure it provides. I’ll insert it slowly, carefully, feeling her muscles tense and relax as it penetrates her body. The sensation will be intense, almost unbearable, but she won't flinch. Instead, she’ll moan, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through the cabin, shaking me to my core.

As the dildo slides further into her, she’ll begin to writhe, her body convulsing with pleasure. Her breath will come in ragged gasps, her eyes will roll back in her head, and her fingers will clutch at my chest, begging for more. I’ll stroke her, caress her, worship her, feeding her insatiable hunger until she reaches the pinnacle of ecstasy.

The rain will continue to fall, washing away any remnants of our previous life, leaving behind only the raw, primal energy of our shared passion. The twelve-inch dildo will be a symbol of our conquest, a testament to our unyielding lust.

And as she lies there, exhausted but satisfied, her body slick with sweat and tears, I’ll know that I’ve fulfilled her desires, that I’ve given her everything she’s ever wanted. But even as I bask in the glow of her pleasure, I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning. The more she wants, the more I’ll give. The line between pleasure and pain will blur, and we’ll both be lost in a world of limitless sensation.

Later, after she's fully recovered, we'll discard the dildo, its mission accomplished. But the memory of its immense size, its overwhelming power, will linger in our minds, a constant reminder of the depths of our shared desire.

I’ll keep searching for more, experimenting with different toys, pushing the boundaries of our pleasure. Because in this cabin, in this rain-soaked corner of the world, we've found something truly extraordinary: a love that knows no limits, a lust that knows no bounds, and a shared pleasure that will consume us both, body and soul. The twelve-inch dildo may have been the catalyst, but our journey has just begun. It's a journey into the heart of our own desires, a quest for ultimate satisfaction, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The rain continues its relentless drumming, a soundtrack to our passionate lives, a constant reminder that pleasure, like love, is always worth pursuing, no matter the cost.

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