Message-ID: 200422Z30041995@anon.penet.fi Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories X-Anonymously-To: alt.sex.stories Organization: Anonymous forwarding service Reply-To: an151170@anon.penet.fi Lines: 141
BIBLEBOY
There's something about the outdoors the brings out the God damn spirit in a boy. And I like'm with the fear of God and lots of the spirit in'm. Like to see how far they'd lower themselves and crawl like an animal and drop in their tracks and take me like a man. I remember my bibleboy. He was young, late teens, barefoot and wearing hand-me-down overalls, bare chested, a mop of coal black hair down to his shoulders. He was always carried a big black bible under his arms, ready to preach the word, convict us hell bound sinners and win us for Jesus. Till he met me. First time he saw me, couldn't take his big blue eyes off me, stared at me constantly. Especially at my crotch. Couldn't blame 'm though. I wore my overalls tight, my cock lay down my right pantleg, like a young sapling. He'd seem to be always near by, sitting on a tree stump and leaning up against a tall timber, bulging eyes, tongue hanging out, getting the best view of my cock flexing when it got hard. I put on a good cock tease for my bibleboy. I wanted to let him drink his fill, eat me with his bugged-eyes, until he'd start panting like a bitch-dog in heat, and drop his bible on log nearby, and come after me. When it was time for lunch, he'd follow, and I'd find a quiet, isolated spot, a clearing carpeted with pine needles where we'd have lots of room to rut. He was always shy. I was bold as hell; with guts. I wasted no time, no need to talk or ask questions. I'd pull the overall straps down his broad shoulders and let'm fall around his feet. He'd step out of his pants, naked and hard, and when I grabbed his cock and fisted his pecker, he'd be so embarrassed, he'd turn red, his fingers shaking as he fumbled to get my pants off and hold my wammer in his hand. He knew what he wanted, and so did I. I'd push him down on all fours, knees spread by my boots against his legs, his ass tilted nice and high, like he was kneeling as in prayer. God, he was hot. All fuzzy haired around his pucker, ring stained with brown shit, but smooth and wet with nervous sweat. I'd feed him a couple fingers, holding his head back by his long black hair, rummaging in his throat, feeling up his tongue. The boy got his tongue out to lap at my lube fingers. Man, oh man! " Lube'm good baby," I coaxed and he'd just gurgle and smile and slather all over my pinkies. By then, he'd have dug himself a little rut in the pine needles. Boy could never keep any nails on his fingers. Always rooting in the ground. At least he was when I was having him. Talk about finger lick'n good! The kid had a bottomless throat. He sucked fingers like he was sucking his mama's tits. I love to see the snoot shoot out a guys nose. But not this boy. He inhaled it all, every fucking spitlet. I'd leave him licking his face and move around behind him. He'd swear and curse me to hell, knowing well his asshole was heading for the same place. " Moon me, boy," I'd taunt him, and watch him wag his tail, grunt and groan as he arched his back and pulsed his pucker out. His insides were a rose pink, ringed by brown kid-shit, in the middle of a hairy gulch. I'd swing my legs over him so I was facing his feet, and start playing between those wide-splayed buns, digging my fingers to the knuckle in the pink-rubber ring of muscle, pounding and kneading his double-bubbles until a flash flood of shit began flowing from his spasming shit-chute, down that canyon ass-crack, along his balls and puddling on the pine needles. Then I'd frig him good, pushing my thumb and all that hair into the opening until it looked like a sinkhole. God, he had a hot hole! Made for cock. Educated for cock. A snug and elastic pussy-boy. The kid would be growling and snarling like a bitch dog by now, growling on my fingers like they were chicken bones and he was trying to strip the meat off. I'd make him wait. I wanted him even hotter. He had to be, considering what I was going to put into him. I'd stroke his flanks to a froth, let him hop around a bit, tearing grooves in the forest with his knees, humping his ass and bellowing, completely out of his fucking mind with craving. I loved to watch him heat up for it. I'd wait for him to glow red in the face, his pleading eyes wet with tears, yet not speaking words - none were needed. I knew he'd cum on the first punch to his guts. I wanted him to. It was important to me. To blow a guy out with one hard entry, then fuck him back up. It was absolute control over a kid's body and it's functions, make him perform like a trick bitch, insane with lust. Jean-Claude, the axe man - that was me. I could fell the mightiest trees, drive it into the dust. Pussy boys were no match for that, and I loved to prove it over and over again. The boy would start to fart every time one of his knees was yanked up off the ground, emptying his bowels even more, collapsing his tunnel, paving the way with natures lube. I rode his thighs backwards, dipping my dick into the dripping crack, making him wail and buck furiously. I was about ready to plow a deep trough between his flailing legs and cram it full of hot beef, dig a hole , crawl into it, and lose myself. I gave him three fingers to the limit, goosing him loose. His body heaved. His hole went lose, and I curled my thumb and little finger in and let him make a grab for the elbow, drawing back as he rose high for it, denying him. He screamed with rage and pain, pulled away and popped me free, kicking his heels, then squatted close to the ground to empty his shit-chute of one long solid turd. "Good boy." I patted his quivering rump and watched him cock it for me, rolling his big globes up onto the bones. He looked obscene and wide open, a wild bitch in heat. I loved it! The boy's hole spewed small globs of rectal mucous, nature's lube. I could smell him now, lathered and ready for breeding. I checked his eggs and saw they had risen out of sight, absorbed by his crotch. His rigid little hard-on hugged his belly, hiding. His face was buried in the dirt. He was all pussy now, him body existing only for me to enter and claim. He needed me! I pressed my cock-head against the open sink hole and nudged it in, and he did the rest. He sucked me inside, his guts squeezing and vacuuming my cock-head till I sank forward, caught off guarded by the power of his asshole. I pulled back and located his prostate with the head of my cock and rammed it hard to start the flow of juzm from his cock, that would continue in a steady trickle while we fucked, and leave a winding trail of scum on the ground. My meat-mallet charged on, burrowing into the kid's bowels, lifting his legs off the ground and bringing them down a foot forward, spread much further into the split I preferred. I heard him grunt like an angry pig and I knew he was cumming. His colon squeezing the starch out of my pipe. I stayed holstered and enjoyed the ride. The boy had his chin pressed down to his chest and was shooting sperm onto his lolling tongue, spooning fat gobs of the goo into his open mouth. He turned to the side to let me see his slime-drenched face. His eyes rolled back into his head as ripples of estasy convulsed his fragile frame. I slid my knees up his jolted flanks and dug into him, jamming myself deeper, forcing his legs into a straight split. He rose up on his hands, threw back his head and howled into the tree-tops. We began to fuck. "Oh my God ! " the kid chanted between clenched teeth, as I blistered his butt. He held his legs straight out to the sides in a gasping split, the inside edges of his feet supporting his lower body. I hammered away at him and we crossed the clearing in record time. He found something to put between his teeth before he bit his tongue off. I grabbed his tits and dragged him to the dirt, hanging onto the thick nubs until his chest sagged like a cow's udders. I twisted them counterclockwise and he began to pivot, holding his split. I tore into his innards. Every time the boy tried to buck away from me, I skewered him so deep he fell forward, snorting lusty and splintering the stick he had in his mouth. Then I'd stop and let him hump like crazy, rocking up and down on me in a full tilt rut, sopping up my meat with great heaving rolls of ass. The spit this boy could hold! Sweet mother of mercy! Molding those buns around me, squeezing, narrowing his pelvis like a clamp. His ass was a cock-ring, tight to the limit. I scrambled up onto my feet in a low crouch, withdrew to the head and stove-up into the boy's tight, hot asshole so hard that his legs closed and he shot up into the air like a rocket. We both started to cum, sinking slowly to the ground, our bodies spasming and seizure, flopping around on the ground like we were drawing our last breaths, until we were spent, drained, out of it! WHEW! Well, he'd start with the prayers and supplication to God after that, weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, crying like a baby, pounding the ground, swearing oats at me and at God. I'd just get dressed and get back to work. Wouldn't see him for a couple days after that. But he'd come back, again and again and again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- To find out more about the anon service, send mail to help@anon.penet.fi. If you reply to this message, your message WILL be automatically anonymized and you are allocated an anon id. Read the help file to prevent this. Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to admin@anon.penet.fi.