“I am fucking you, you whore! And you love it, don’t you—you just love having a big, hard cock up your ass, don’t you, you slut?” Paul roared at me, his face red and contorted with lustful concentration and rage. “God damn you, I’m going to fuck you, all right. I’m going to fuck you raw!”
“Yeah,” I gasped. “Oh, Paul, hurt me—punish me with your big, stud prick!” I begged, remembering how David had begged me to hurt him.
“Take that! And that! And that!” With each shout he made, his cock seemed to slam deeper into my guts, reaming me out as though a drill was boring into my flesh. “Take it, bitch! Take that cock!”
I screamed under his relentless assault, and my pain seemed to excite him past the point of self-control. Grunting, Paul reared back on his haunches, and then he began to ejaculate deep inside my ass.
He came so hard and so generously, in what felt like torrents of hot, wet jism, that some of his excess semen bubbled out of my asshole and dripped down my buttocks and the small of my back, to soak into the mattress under us. I writhed against him, working my anus around his shaft, trying to trigger my own release of sperm.
Paul was still coming, helplessly, like a fountain jet spraying into my ass rather than into the open air, when I finally felt my dick spasm within my fist, then squirt a thick jet of my own fuck fluid down onto my sweaty chest.
“Fuck you,” he gasped, staring down at my face, at my exploding cock. “I told you I’d fuck you, and I did,” he added, panting.
He let my weary legs fall back onto the bed. Smoldering coals of purely physical desire still flickered in his eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was madly in love with me, if he was simply consumed by lust for my body, or if he wanted to strangle me as I lay there under him on the bed. Maybe it was a bit of all three!
Our mingled cum was all over the bed, but Paul ignored the sodden sheets. He yanked his dick out from between my quaking, traumatized buttocks, making me yelp with pain at the sudden, unexpected evacuation.
“What’s the matter?” he barked. “Did that hurt?”
“Of course it did, damn you! You’re hung like a horse to begin with, and you know I don’t like to get fucked without at least a little lubricant. It hurt like hell!”
“Good,” he grunted. “I’m glad.”
“Bastard.”
“It serves you right.” He glared down at me—lustfully, rather than angrily, I was relieved to see. “Roll over. Get on your belly. I want to fuck you again, only in a different position this time. I want to find out what all your other tricks are getting from you, out of that wide-open asshole of yours. You’ve spread it for everybody else in town. Now you’re going to spread it for me.”
His tone of voice didn’t exactly encourage argument or delaying tactics, so I bit my lip, deciding not to press my luck by bringing up the subject of K-Y, Vaseline, or any other lubricant. I turned over and mutely offered my bare ass to him, like a sacrificial victim spread out upon a pagan altar, ready to appease an angry god. An angry god with a big, stiff, and very potent dick!
He hesitated for only a few seconds, catching his breath, and then he pulled on his prick to get it fully erect again. Climbing on top of my back, he entered me—dry, damn him!—for the second time. Jesus, did that ever hurt! My asshole, already sore from his rough previous plowing, felt as though it was being invaded by a piece of sandpaper rolled into a thick cylinder and jammed up my butt.
“Damn,” I groaned, in very real pain. “Oh … motherfucking goddamn!”
“That’s right, bitch,” Paul insulted me, as he began to jack hammer his prick in and out of my shuddering ass. “Suffer, you little slut!”
Despite my face-down position under him on the rumpled, soiled bed, he was driving his dick into my rectum hard enough, deeply enough, and with enough disregard for my comfort, to hump me at the right angle for his horse-sized prick to find its way to my prostate and bang against it uninterruptedly. I could feel my own cock rubbing against the bed, swelling into a grossly extended hard-on, as a result of the pressure being exerted on my prostate. For a moment, I was distracted by a hot, searing, overwhelming desire to come.
“Aw, hell!” I choked out.
Paul, evidently turned on by the way my asshole was constricting and relaxing around the shaft of his ramrod, started to build toward a noisy, macho climax—involving a lot of grunting and heaving, and thudding of elbows and knees into the bed on either side of my deeply-fucked body. I twisted out from under him suddenly, literally unscrewing my asshole from around the shaft of his dick. He didn’t like that at all, needless to say.
He yelled obscenities at me, and slapped my ass cheeks with both hands.
“Keep that hole of yours where I can fuck it,” he demanded. “Don’t move! Where the hell do you think you’re going to go, anyway? You’re going to lie there and get fucked.”
“I want to get fucked,” I told him. “But I’ve got an idea … a way to make it feel even better, for both of us.”
“Yeah? Such as?”
“Let me sit on your dick, the way I did the very first time you screwed me here in this bed,” I said. I twisted my head around to leer at him enticingly as I made the lewd suggestion.
Caught off guard on the very threshold of orgasm, Paul stared at me, stupidly, and reached down to clutch at his ready-to-burst dick.
“Come on, stud.” I quickly got up and gestured for him to lie down on the mattress on his back. I straddled him, and I lowered my asshole over the head of his cock. As I squatted over it, Paul jabbed upward with his hips and drove the entire length of his prick up my ass. Wild with lust now, I literally bounced up and down on his body, my asshole impaled upon his cockshaft.
“That’s right,” I urged him. “Give it to me. Oh, give me that cock!”
“Damn! You hot-assed bitch!” Paul growled.
I rode him, letting the full length of his manhood ream out my hole. He began slapping my thighs with his open palms and gasping, as we both got ready to come.
“Slut,” he moaned. “Oh, you dirty little slut! You’re doing it to me again. You’re driving me crazy, you’re going to make me come.” There was an odd tenderness in his tone of voice now, and he stared up at me with eyes which almost seemed to implore. “I hate your guts … and I love you, you little son of a bitch. God help me, but I really do love you!”
“I love you, too,” I insisted.
“Ha! That’s a laugh. As though you’d even know the meaning of the word.” He was trying to look and sound sarcastic, even bitter. But to my relief, I could tell that he was just putting on an act. He was trying to convince not only me, but himself.
“Is this what they call makeup sex?” I asked. “I’ve heard it’s the best kind. You know, the really hot, nasty, rough sex two guys have after they’ve had a fight and they’ve made up. While they’re still pissed off at each other. It must have something to do with the adrenalin rush—”
“Aw, shut up,” Paul interrupted me. “Shut up and fuck! Ride my dick. Keep your hole on my pole.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”
“Damn right,” he grumbled. “From now on, I’m going to be the boss in this relationship. I’m not going to take any more crap from you. Now, you sit on that cock of mine, you open that hot ass of yours, and you get ready to take my cum!”
I did exactly as I was told. Willingly! Eagerly!
I knew then, in that supreme moment of sexual excess, that everything was going to be all right between us. Somehow, we’d work it out. No matter how many other men I was tempted to fuck around with, I would always return to this bed, to this man, to this cock.
Moaning, I got ready to take my lover’s cum up my ass.
The End
Also by Roland Graeme
Available exclusively on Amazon Kindle:
Strictly Gay for Pay
Sword and Sandal
The Robot Master
A Taste of Sin
Midnight Farmhand
T
ales Told at Night
A Mighty Lewd Book
The Temple of Skanda
Rubber Master
Made in Japan
Sin in Algiers
Published by Dreamspinner Press:
Two Marked Men
A Dance of Love and Jealousy
Baja Honeymoon
Published by Siren Publishing:
Algerian Nights
Good Cop, Bad Cop
Brazilian Cattle Baron
The Fortunes of Fausto
The Spinner of Romances
Jewels for Vishnu
Published by Extasy Books:
You’re So Unromantic
Our Dads’ Big Gay Wedding
A Thing for Cops
Leather Novice
A Fine Bromance
Tales From the Gym
The Blue Cat
Jazz Baby Page 11
