The fog rolled in thick off the bay that night, swallowing the streetlights and turning the pier into a muffled world of wet wood and salt air. I was twenty-three, horny as hell after months of bad dates and zero dick, when I wandered out there just to clear my head. My short dress clung to my thighs from the damp, and my nipples were already stiff against the thin fabric. Thats when I felt it.
Something brushed my leg. Solid. Warm. Thick. I froze, heart hammering, but the fog hid everything. Then it nudged higher, pressing right between my thighs like it knew exactly where to go. I should have run. Instead I spread my feet a little, curious and dripping already. The thing that pushed against my soaked panties was no hand, no toy. It was a cock. Heavy, veined, and hotter than any man Id ever touched. My first real fog cock.
I reached down and wrapped my fingers around it. Jesus, it was massive, longer than my forearm and so fucking girthy my thumb and middle finger barely met. It pulsed in my grip, slick with the mist or its own leaking pre-cum. I stroked it once, slow, and heard a low, guttural sound that might have been wind or might have been whatever owned that cock. Didnt matter. I was already shoving my panties aside.
The fat head nudged my entrance and I moaned out loud. It stretched me on the first push, forcing my pussy lips wide around that blunt crown. I had to rise on my toes just to take it. Inch after inch sank into me, the fog cock sliding through my wetness like it belonged there. My cunt clenched hard, fluttering around the invasion, but it kept coming, bottoming out against my cervix with a dull, perfect ache.
Fuck, I hissed, gripping the railing with both hands. The cock pulled back and slammed in again, harder. My tits bounced with every thrust. The fog swallowed my noises, turning every wet slap of skin into something private and filthy. I pushed back, meeting it, greedy for more. My juices ran down my thighs, mixing with the mist. Every time that thick shaft dragged over my g-spot I saw stars.
It fucked me like nothing human could. No pauses, no fumbling, just relentless, deep strokes that made my pussy gush around it. I came once with a sharp cry, my walls pulsing and squeezing, but the fog cock never slowed. It just kept pounding, using my spasming cunt like a sleeve. I reached between my legs and felt how obscenely stretched I was, how my lips clung to that shaft on every withdrawal. The thought made me come again, harder, legs shaking.
I dropped to my knees on the wet planks, ass up, and the cock followed without missing a beat. Now it could drive even deeper. I clawed at the wood while it railed me from behind, heavy balls slapping my clit with every thrust. My third orgasm ripped through me so fast I squirted, hot liquid spraying down my thighs and onto the pier. The fog cock throbbed inside me like it was feeding on every drop.
I lost track of time. The world was just fog, the creak of the pier, and that relentless dick destroying my pussy. When it finally swelled and started pumping, I felt every jet. Thick, hot ropes flooded my cunt, so much that it overflowed and ran out around the shaft in creamy rivulets. I came one last time just from the sensation of being filled to bursting.
The cock stayed inside me until the last twitch, then slowly withdrew. I stayed on my knees, panting, cum leaking down my legs in the cool mist. By the time I stood up on shaky legs and pulled my dress down, the fog had already begun to thin. Nothing remained but the ache in my well-fucked pussy and the sticky evidence between my thighs.
I walked home smiling, already wondering how soon the fog would roll in again.
