Category: Sex Story Series
Published: Jun 20, 2014
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I didn't make it through the movie last night. Well, tonight I would. I passed on the leather getup. I passed on the booze. And the little brown bottle. Just finish the movie and get it over with. Solve my stupid curiosity. Destroy the thing. Move on.
Hopefully in a different direction.
For sure in a different direction.
Because anymore of this crap was no direction at all.
The living room curtains are closed tight. I am back on my couch, ready to roll. I fire up the TV and start the movie. Immediately, I am taken aback by what I see.
'Fuck me. Fuck me please'.
I replay those awful words again and again.
'Fuck me please' echoed through my living room. Echoed through my brain. Burrowed deep into my brain. Latched on tight, a clinging leech.
I did say it. I said it out loud.
'Fuck me' was bad enough.
I added 'Please' to it.
Asking, no, begging for it Begging to be fucked by a guy
How many girls begged me for it
After working my magic tongue on their horny clits, they begged. Wet, mewling, hungry, dogs.
I begged Stevie, didn't I
I was now one of them, a wet little dog.
I needed a drink.
I pushed the stop button.
Off to the kitchen, I took a bottle of beer from the fridge. Made it two. I returned to the couch and sat down. Twisted the cap and drank. Half the bottle gone. The next gulp finished the bottle. I twisted cap number two and hit play. The camera angle is back above us. I can see Stevie's long white cock slide slowly into my ass. Disappear into my ass. All the way in. My face is contorted in pain and discomfort, and something else. This is surreal. I am amazed at how gigantic our cocks look on video. His and mine. Especially mine.
Moving quickly, Stevie strikes again, the side of my face this time. It is enough to spray blood from my swollen lips. The sound has gone out again, and the camera zooms in on my face. The face of a beaten boxer, who has endured twelve rounds of punishment. The camera pulls back.
My cock is hard in my pants. Again. It shouldn't be. Not watching this shit. I tell my cock to stop it. To smarten up. My second beer is empty. I hit pause, walk to the kitchen, grab two more beers from the fridge, and make a pit stop in the bedroom. Five minutes later, empty beer bottle number three is in the bedroom, and I am back in the living room. I sit on the couch, the leather crackling against the leather. I open beer number four and continue the live porno flick. I am fully geared up. Sliding sideways into the movie. Back to the ugly dark side.
Stevie is pulling out of me, then pushing in. Developing his rhythm. His cock is slicked with ass lube. Stevie stops briefly, placing my hands on my own legs, forcing me to hold myself apart for him. I am mesmerized as I watch.
Why would I do this
Push off the guy, or at least drop the hands.
Why am I helping him What is wrong with me
I glance at my crotch. The bulge in my leather pants is full. Shiny and full. My cock has not listened to my explicit instructions. My cock has a brain of its own. A life of its own. Ask those December cunts.
Back on the screen, Stevie is beginning to thrust. He is pounding me good. The sound is back on. I hear Stevie grunting, an animal rutting in heat. The fag on the bottom is moaning, groaning, panting and slobbering. The fag's eyes are closed or swollen shut, it is hard to tell. The fag looks to be in pain. He also looks to be enjoying his pain. Stealing a measure of bliss from the pain, a thief in the night.
My cock is twitching in my pants. Commando again. Bare cock against my leathers.
The fag on the bottom is thrusting his ass onto the cock inside him. Yes he is. His ass is chasing Stevie's cock.
I unscrew the little brown bottle. Lift it to my nose. I catch a whiff of the chemical. Warm, mysterious. On the edge. Trouble. I take a deep, deep draw and cap the bottle. I wait about ten seconds. Here it comes. The thudding in the skull is matched by the thudding in my groin. I peel off my tee shirt as the perspiration begins. I feel the heat run through my body as Stevie hammers away at the fag.
The fag was crashing against the back mirror wall, his ass sliding across the bed as Stevie worked. Stevie would yank the fag back over his cock, and then pound the ass harder. The noise coming from the room was impressive. Two men in heat. A blind, raging heat. This was not the wailing, high pitched sound of a chick calling for god, but deeper sounds, gruffer sounds. Animal sounds. The sounds of conqueror, and conquered. A fight for survival. Ancient. Prehistoric. Eat or be eaten.
The camera angle swung back to the side. I gasped at what I saw. Stevie was wearing his leather pants and stomping boots. His white cock was pulling completely out of me, my ass gaping and dripping and raw, then Stevie was slamming back in. There was my giant cock, quivering with Stevie's thrusts. Veiny. Throbbing. The biggest, most beautiful cock in the world. Good Christ. Mine. Me.
The twitching in my balls was past the point of no return. I frantically dropped my zipper, yanking out my meat. My cock on the screen was both mesmerizing and erotic. Too late. My cock blew hard across my chest and up under my chin. I was actually thrusting on the couch, thrusting and bucking against nothing. Against no one. Not Cindy. Not Charlene.
My chest heaved up and down, sweat soaked. The madness on the screen continued. Stevie's hands were caressing my neck. My mouth was open. Gasping for air. Stevie's hands tightened. Harder. I could tell. Stevie shifted on the bed, applying more pressure to my neck. I was folded on the bed, my knees nearly on my shoulders. He was grinding me with his ass, his cock completely inside. This gave him plenty of leverage to choke me out.
And damn, he was doing it.
My face began to redden. Dark red. Nearly purple. My neck twisted, trying to free itself. As the camera moved back to the top view, I could see my hands faithfully holding my legs apart.
I was holding my legs apart while Stevie choked me to death .
An obedient, suck-ass bottom.
I was sweating again on the couch, watching this. My hand caressed my throat in sympathy. The fag on the screen was going to die. My bare cock began to twitch.
Finally, Stevie released his grip. The fag gasped and coughed, horribly loud on my speaker system. It seemed as if the two guys were here, present, in my living room.
I sighed with relief.
It was over.
When suddenly, Stevie took back his grip, pulling the fag off the cot. Stevie shook the fag violently, the fag's head ready to separate from his neck. Stevie bucked hard, with a force I never used or experienced before. Stevie's groin slapped hard against the fag's ass. I could see the spray of perspiration where the collision impacted. When the camera closed in on the bottom fag's cock, the damn thing was standing straight up. Pulsing and raw.
Two triggers were pulled at the same time. The fag on the screen. Me on the couch. The cock on the screen blew up and out. The ropes of white cum arcing, reaching as far as the fag's own face. The cock on my lap blew as well, the first shot hitting my nose. I stared at the cock on the screen, counting eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve shots. Twelve full shots of cum. A fucking geyser. When the shooting stopped, the cum continued to flow, lava from a pipe. Spreading over the fag's tight six pack belly. My cum sprayed in unison.
Two cum shots in two minutes
Talk about instant recovery.
I settled my breathing again. I was so worked up. I gulped for air, feeling the phantom choke hold around my neck. Come to think of it, I can feel exactly where his fingers settled on my throat. I can see the maniacal look in his eyes as he was throttling me. Obviously, the idiot got off on the choking and the punching and the ass pounding. The total domination package.
Is this why my cock was twitching again
Was it A third fucking time
Yes it was.
The domination Or the submission
Which mind fuck was messing me up more
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