This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse, incest, and Dominant/submissive themes between adult males. If this offends you, is not appropriate for viewing in your location, or you are not of legal age, do not read it. Any resemblance of characters in this story to the living is purely coincidental. If you like the story or have suggestions, comments can be addressed to mummyscurse@yahoo.com.
My Construction Dad Pt 7
Party At Tiny's House
I'm pissed! First of all, when Dad came home from work a little early today I dropped to my knees like I always do to give him his welcome home blow-job and he told me he "wasn't in the mood." That's never happened before and it hurt my feelings but I didn't want to make a big deal about it. Starting the evening off without his big load in my belly put me in a bad mood though. Then when I told him I had plans to meet my friends Scott and Mason to see a movie he said, "Call 'em and cancel. Guess I forgot to tell ya', but you're goin' over to Tiny's tonight to stay over. Not sure when you'll be back. We're leavin' it open."
THEY'RE leaving it open? I guess I don't get a say anymore. When I asked why I was going over to Tiny's he was sarcastic about it.
"Why d'ya think you're going over to Tiny's, faggot? A slumber party? He's havin' some friends over and you're the fuckin' entertainment. He's pickin' you up and you're gonna go get your pussy banged till he brings you home. And you better do what he tells you to. I may own your ass, but you can consider Tiny my second in command. Unless I say otherwise, what he says goes!"
I should be insulted, but when he said that to me I got a hard-on like you wouldn't believe! Dad made a comment to Tiny once about all you had to do was wave a cock under my nose and I was hot for it. It's kind of embarrassing to admit it, but it's the truth! Dad and Tiny took me to some low-class porn palace out by the airport and I gave blowjobs to a bunch of guys. After that they both fucked me at the same time, something I never would have believed was even possible. Those two are HUGE! Something happened to me that night and I don't just mean getting those two inside my ass at once. Now whenever Daddy tells me to do something, it's like the command bypasses my brain or something and I do whatever he wants automatically. He says, "drop to your knees" and I drop to my knees without even thinking about it.
This whole thing is getting hard to balance with school, too. I had to explain to my coaches why I'm shaved bald as a baby from the neck down now. I explained that away by saying that shaving was supposed to cut down on drag in the water and increase your speed. That at least made some sense. I had to treat the sudden fattening and lengthening of my nipples like some kind of medical mystery. It's not like I could say, "Gee, coach. I guess they're getting bigger because my Daddy puts suction cups on them so they'll be big and ripe for him to suck on when I sit in his lap and he fucks my ass. He calls them my pussyboy 'on' switches!"
I'm not sure my coaches are buying my explanations for the changes they're seeing. It seems to me like every time I look, either my swim or gymnastics coach is looking back at me. Maybe they've discussed it with the whole coaching staff, because all of them seem to be paying me a lot of attention. It might be my imagination, but a lot of men are checking me out these days. Either they always were and I never noticed, or they sense something different about me. Whenever I go out, I see men look at me like there's a neon sign over my head, blinking "Pussyboy" over and over. They look me up and down and a few have waggled their tongues at me or even grabbed their crotches! It's like they take one look at me and know that my Dad and Tiny have given me a cock- hungry hole between my legs. Even the guys in the locker room are giving me funny looks. Most of them are proud of any growth of body hair and there I stand in the middle of them, shaved smooth with big nipples like a girl's. The games of grab-ass are getting more aggressive and now they're all focused my way. It used to be only grabbing each other's butt for play, but a couple of guys have slipped a soapy finger in my asshole while they're grabbing. A couple of times I started to get wood and had to leave the shower in a hurry. Summer vacation is coming up, but we still have practices to keep up our training. I'm gonna have to schedule around them because Dad wants me to work down at the construction yard this summer too.
I don't know what he expects me to do there. I could work with the paint crews, I guess. But even if they are a bunch of stoners for the most part, they seem to have it all under control. Maybe he needs some help in the office or something, because I'm strong but I don't know much about what the other crews do. A lot of the guys there are really hot, bulky and muscular from their work. I just hope they don't distract me too much so I can keep my mind on my job!
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Tiny comes to the door to get me and see that I'm dressed the way he wants. I'm dressed in ass-hugging black slacks, a white tuxedo shirt and a black bow tie. I look like a cater waiter, but I think what I'm gonna be offering up on a silver platter is my ass and mouth. Underneath, I've got on a white muscle shirt, a real one this time, instead of that cut-down thing I wore to the porn shop. Dad's been using that for a cum rag, so I don't think I'll ever have to wear that again, thank god. I'm also wearing a pair of shorts with an open slit up the back. Daddy calls them my "fuck-me shorts." This pair is black Lycra and they pull my buns apart and expose my hole. I need to get some more of these because I've taken to wearing them instead of underwear. I like the way they feel and they give Daddy quick access if he wants it, which he frequently does. I have to be careful though, because at least once I was about to head off to school with a wet spot in the seat of my pants from his cum.
Daddy packed a suitcase for me and won't let me look in it. From the sounds it makes when it shifts, I can guess. He's packed the contents of the 'toy box' he keeps locked in the basement. He says I can't be trusted with that stuff. He caught me trying to pick the lock with one of my mom's hairpins and really got pissed. That works in the movies, but I sure didn't have any luck. I got my ass whipped for trying that, but at least it lead to him fucking me, which is what I wanted in the first place.
Daddy passes me off, and the two men confer for a while. At one point Daddy looks at me and says, "Yeah, go ahead n' do it. They're in the suitcase. I can't wait to see 'em."
I offer again to give Dad head before I leave but he says no. I'm not sure what's up with that because Daddy never turns down getting his cock sucked! I file that one away to think about later. At the very least I need to mark this day on the calendar.
Tiny must approve of the way I'm dressed though, because he reaches in the back of my pants and slips two fingers in my already greased ass. When he opens the front door and starts heading outside with them still inside me, I freeze. Me trying to resist against Tiny's strength is a losing proposition though, so he keeps them in me all the way to his car, rubbing my prostate. He doesn't pull them out till he's got the passenger door open, then he helps me into his car like I'm his date. Well, in an odd way I guess I am. I'm his fuck-date and also the fuck-date of any other man he decides to offer me to. Those fingers in my ass get me worked up, so after he gets in I ask him if he wants a blowjob while he drives.
Tiny laughs. "Damn, baby. You're about as easy to turn on as a light bulb! I think I can keep it in my pants for a little while longer. And don't you pout and whine for it neither, 'cause I'll make you sorry if you pull that shit."
I'm sorely tempted to pout and whine just because he said that. I've discovered that the things they think are going to "make me sorry" rarely do. I leave it alone though, so we can have a peaceful drive over to his house.
I finally break down and ask him what I've wanted to know ever since I heard about this shin-dig. "So, who's coming over to your house tonight? Daddy said it was some kind of reunion."
Tiny sighs and grips the steering wheel tighter. In his big hands it looks like those toys you give children to play with so they can pretend they're driving. He looks at me then back at the road. "Your Daddy ever tell you I did some time back in the day?" he asks.
It takes me a moment to figure out what he means by 'time' and I shake my head, surprised, and say, "No, Sir." Except for the whole fucking-my-ass thing, Tiny is the most upright guy I know! Mr. Family Man. I can't believe he was ever in prison.
"Well, I ain't exactly proud of it. I started hangin' around with some fools, messin' around with shit I never should have got close to. Minor stuff, mostly. Standin' behind some jackass, lookin' tough, like I was gonna whip somebody's ass if they didn't pay what they owed. Shit like that. Some guys convinced me to join up with 'em, rippin' off cars and takin' 'em over to this chop-shop down by the river. Well, we got caught and I was 19. I didn't help that some big-shot downtown owned one of the cars we grabbed and the judge wanted to make an example out of us. I pulled four years and served two and a half. It seemed like the rest of my life at the time.
"I didn't want to, but I had to do it. I wasn't worried about getting' raped or nothin' like that 'cause I knew I was big enough to handle anybody that tried it. But I also knew there might be some badasses in there that would carve my black ass up if I looked at 'em the wrong way, so when I got in I kept my head down and took whatever classes they had, worked for the prison doin' construction stuff inside, and I made some friends I trusted to watch my back. I was worn out all the time from the work, the noise never stopped, and the lights was never all the way off. The only thing that made it bearable was this sweet, sweet Pussyboy we had on our cellblock.
"He was small-built, like you, 'cept with blonde hair and he was kinda sissy. But he liked it rough and he liked it whenever you wanted to give it to him. So I'd come back to the cellblock after classes, worn out after a hard day's work, haulin' shit for the prison or workin' on whatever projects they saw fit to give me. We could hang towels over the bars for some privacy but it didn't matter none 'cause the guards was usin' the faggot too. I'd lay down and he'd give me a nice backrub and lick the sweat outta my asshole to relax me. If I was in the mood, I'd pound his pussy into the bunk or have him suck me off. If I was too tired to move, he'd fuck himself on my cock so I didn't have to. A lot of us used him that way, me n' all my friends, and it kept us all from actin' out too bad 'cause we was horny n' frustrated. It was nice, 'cause he could take on a bunch of us at the same time and he liked doin' it. Plus, if you were feelin' mean you could take it out on him 'cause he wanted it to hurt, like you do. And it brought some of us together 'cause we had his ass but we also had his back too, 'ya know? Some guys would get too rough on him and we'd have to pay them a visit and let them know that he was OUR Pussyboy and they couldn't treat him too bad. There wasn't much we could do if the guards got too rough and one of 'em in particular was a mean motherfucker. He liked hurtin' the faggot and the boy couldn't say no to the asshole 'cause he was a guard. Plus, there was some racist assholes in there that hated him, 'cause he was lettin' black men fuck his ass. He didn't see the danger all the time and we kept an eye on him and watched out for him. We had to keep a lookout for him, 'cause he could be a fuckin' idiot about it sometimes, 'cause he wanted dick so bad.
"Hell, at first guys would try to give him cigarettes to thank him and he'd say, "I don't smoke." I had to pull the dumb bitch aside and tell him that inside the walls cigarettes are like money and if he didn't want 'em he could give 'em to me. After that, I became sorta like his manager. Hell, I'll use the word. I pimped his bitch ass up and down the cellblock and shared him with my friends. But anyway, I developed a real fondness for Pussyboys when I was inside and you don't often find 'em. The guys that are comin' over tonight are my buddies from back then and I thought it'd be nice to have a Pussyboy on hand to remind 'em of one of the few good things about that time. Now like me, most of these guys left that kinda life behind. We tried prison and we didn't like it, so we got some education or some skills and we moved on. Most of 'em are just guys with memories of a Pussyboy in their past. A Pussyboy that liked it rough."
At the next stoplight he looks at me again, looks me up and down like he's reading me. "Go on, Tiny. Tell me what's on your mind. Please."
"OK," he says. "I knew what you was long before your Daddy did. Before you did, prob'ly. People think I ain't payin' attention 'cause I keep my thoughts to myself, but I knew. Even when you was just a boy you were all over men, squirmin' and rubbin' all over 'em. A lot of that can be put down to bein' a kid and not knowin' what you're doin', so I just kept an eye out. Later on I saw how you looked at men, especially big men like me and the other guys on the construction crew. So I knew you liked men but it was more n' that. Bein' homo and bein' a Pussyboy is different, and I could smell Pussyboy all over you."
It's clear to me now that in Tiny's worldview there are Men and beneath them are Pussyboys like me, here to serve them, to offer our bodies for their pleasure. Whenever he called me that, there was a slight difference of inflection and I wasn't sure what it meant. When my Daddy calls me pussyboy it's a slur to demean or excite me, but no different than "bitch" or any of the others he uses. When Tiny calls me Pussyboy, it is because I am part of a distinct group to him, rare but valuable for our willingness to worship the bodies and cocks of real men and to let them use us however they want, rough as they want, up to a limit they themselves define.
"You're just like that boy back in the day that wanted a man to take control of him and treat him rough. I didn't know how your Daddy was gonna handle it when he finally figured it out but I sure didn't 'spect him to start fuckin' your ass, but that's what he did. Now he's put it in my hands to train you some and keep an eye on you. I might whip and fuck your ass while I got it, but I got your back too, now. I'm gonna hurt you 'cause you like bein' hurt and I like doin' it. But I ain't never gonna hurt you bad. That don't mean I'm gonna stop when you want me to or that I'm gonna ask your permission for anything. You're a Pussyboy and you're gonna get treated like one, like I see fit. Like your Daddy says, you're fuckmeat now and what you do with fuckmeat is fuck it. We got it all clear between us now?"
"Yes, Sir," I say. I lay back in the seat, my thoughts swarming, trying to absorb it all. The only thing I can think of to say is, "Tiny? What's your real name? I don't think I ever knew it."
He laughs hard, the sound booming in the car. He holds out a big hand for me to shake and says, "My name's Eddie Bulworth.. You can call me Tiny, since that's the name you've always known me by, or you can call me Mr. Bulworth. You best call me Sir while you're at it though. Now what's your name?"
I take his hand, my small white one lost in his huge black one. We shake. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Bulworth, Sir." I smile at him and say, "My name is Tyson Vitale, Sir, but you can call me Pussyboy."
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Tiny's house is spacious, with brightly colored walls decorated with African art on the inside and a basketball hoop on the garage and an above ground pool in the back yard. It shocks the hell out of me, but Tiny's wife is still here. She's rushing around, getting her things together for a visit her sister for the weekend. Tiny introduces me, saying, "You remember Tyson, don'cha, babe?" She smiles and gives me a hug, saying, "How you doin', baby?"
Tiny says, "Ty is gonna help me out, keep the food and drinks coming."
"Mmmm-Hmmm," she says skeptically, eying me up and down.
Big Martha is as tall or taller than most men, at least six feet, sure as hell taller than me. She's pretty but muscular, like a professional tennis player or something. Tiny warned me never to call her Big Martha to her face or she'd put me through a wall..
She gets ready and eyes me again. To Tiny she says, "Now you all take it easy on that boy, don't treat him too rough." My cheeks burn with embarrassment that she knows what's going on. She laughs and says, "Well, do whatever you want. Maybe it'll keep you from pesterin' me too bad when I get back!"
Tiny grabs her ass and says, "Shit, girl. You know you love it. Now you go an' have a good time and don't worry 'bout me." He gives her a big kiss and she kisses him back just as hard.
"Looks like you got it all covered," she says, glancing at me. "You better get all that rough stuff outta your system, cause I'll break your damn neck if you try that shit with me." With kisses and waves, she leaves the house.
Tiny pours himself a drink and settles down at his desk and starts to flip through papers. I wander the room, looking at pictures on a shelf with trophies and wondering when the guests will get here, when the action will start. There are pictures of Tiny in a football uniform and the awards have his name on them. Bent over the ball and glowering at the camera he looks like an angry god. He hasn't changed much. I settle on the couch to wait.
Right then, a tall young black man enters the room, dressed in long basketball shorts, a jersey, and elaborate, gargantuan basketball shoes on his feet. "Hey, dad," he says. He sees me and checks me out. "Pussy?" He asks.
"Yep," Tiny says. "Lamar, this is Tyson. He's helpin' me out this weekend. Tyson, this is my son Lamar."
I stand up to shake his hand. Lamar is a little over six feet tall, six inches or so taller than me, and his high-cut jersey shows off abs like stone, cut slabs of muscle that cross and then spread up his torso like wings. I vaguely remember playing with Tiny's kids once. This one must be the one that was a few years older than me; the other was a toddler at the time.
Lamar shakes my hand, then puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back on the couch. "You don't have to get up, baby. You were fine just where you were." He pulls down the waistband of his shorts and his cock flops out. It's long and growing longer in his hand. It's not as big as his daddy's, but no cock fisherman is ever going to throw it back for not being big enough. Lamar is uncut, unlike his dad, and he waves it my face. Tiny looks over to watch.
"Don't be shy, baby," Lamar says. "You 'n me both know what you want to do, so why don't you go ahead and do it?"
Lamar's cock dangles in front of me, getting thick and shiny as it fills with blood. His brown cock-hood covers the end, but the surprisingly pink tip pokes through, dripping pre-cum that gathers so heavy it threatens to fall to the floor. It's that more than anything that makes me go for it. It would be a shame to waste it on the floor. I take Lamar's cock in my mouth and suck on it. He has pre-cum to spare built up inside and it floods my mouth. I go down on him all the way and close my lips around the base. He must have never had anybody do that, because he gasps when I do it. "Oh damn, baby," he says. "I never had it that deep!" I reach out and grab his hands and place them on either side of my head. I look up into his brown eyes. I hold his hands till he grips my skull. I can't say, "Fuck my face" with my mouth full, but I say it with my eyes as best I can.
Lamar starts some timid thrusts, afraid he's going to choke me or something I guess. Tiny comes over and starts coaching his son on how a man fucks a faggot's face. "Hell, boy, that ain't the way to do it. Pound the cocksucker's face. He can take it and if he can't you make him do it anyway. There ain't nothin' you can dish out this faggot can't take. Lemme show you." Tiny grabs me by the hair and starts slamming me full- length back and forth on his son's cock till the kid is gasping in pleasure. "Faggots like it when you deep-dick 'em," he adds, pulling me all the way off and pushing me back on till my lips are rubbing Lamar's pubic hair. He pushes me down and holds me there, saying, "'Nother good thing to do is sink it deep and let the bitch milk your cock with his throat. This faggot's a good one to learn on 'cause he's real good at that. He nurses cock like a calf on its momma's titty. Now 'ya gotta let 'em up ever once in a while for air but don't worry 'bout it too much 'cause breathin' is the bitch's problem and this one can hold his breath for a long time. Now how's that feel?"
"Oh God, dad. I ain't never felt nothin' like this!" Lamar says.
"Why don't you take over and show me what you learned," Tiny says. "This cocksucker'll shoot in his pants if you give it to him good."
Lamar holds my head in place and fucks my throat like a champ. It still seems to surprise him that I can take it all the way to his balls, because he moans, "Oh, Jesus," every time he goes that deep. He thrusts and I suck and we find a perfect rhythm. That rhythm gets faster and faster, until he's fucking my face deep and I take it as he gives it to me. He reaches some level of ecstasy where he forgets about anything but his own pleasure and grabs my ears, slamming my throat till I'm moaning around his cock and I blow in my pants. I have to force my orgasm a little, but I want to let Lamar know he did a good job and to make Tiny proud of him. I can feel him getting close to cumming, so I suck harder and ride his driving rod.
"Now you can cum wherever you want to," Tiny says. "Down his throat, in his mouth, on his face, wherever. This little faggot likes it anywhere he can get it but he does like at least a taste in his mouth as a reward."
When he finally blows his wad, Lamar pulls back and fills my mouth full of his semen. I swallow it while he watches. Lamar pulls all the way out and milks his cock till there's a shiny cum-drop hanging off the end. I suck it off and go down deep so I can make sure I've got it all before I pull off again.
Tiny grabs my hair again and pulls my head back so I'm looking up at Lamar. "Now thank him for makin' you shoot, bitch. Thank my boy for that sweet load he let you have too."
I kiss Lamar's hips on either side of his cock and say, "Thank you for making me shoot Lamar. That was great. Thank you for letting me suck your cock and drink your cum."
Still gasping, Lamar bends over and kisses my forehead, saying, "Thank you too, baby. That was real nice." Then he runs off to grab his bulging backpack and rushes to the door, yelling, "See you Sunday, dad."
Tiny stops him on his way out. "Not a goddamn word to your momma about what you just did, right?"
Lamar laughs. "Naw, Dad. It never happened. Even if I did like it a lot. Any chance I can take a crack at his asshole?" he asks.
"No," Tiny says. "You don't sample the cake till your guests get a piece first. Now get the fuck outta here and have a good time playin' video games or whatever the fuck it is you do. And keep your nose clean or I'll sic your momma on you." He looks at me after Lamar runs out. "I swear, that boy's got a future in politics! He thanks pussy after he fucks it!"
I can't think of what to say to him now that his son is gone and Tiny watched me blowing him, letting his son fuck my face. I guess that's what he expected to happen, since he just sat there. "So, is Lamar in college?" I ask. It's the best I can think of right now.
"College?" Tiny asks, surprised. "Lamar don't go to high school till next year! He turns fifteen in August and he'll be a freshman in the fall. Darnell is at college, playin' ball on scholarship like I did till I fucked up my knee."
I didn't even think to figure in that this is a family of giants. Tiny's fourteen-year- old son just fucked my mouth like a pro!
"Don't worry about it, baby," Tiny says. "It's just you n' me. Now get your fuckin' ass to the bathroom. You gotta clean up and we got maintenance to do."
Tiny points me toward a doorway at the end of the hall and picks up my suitcase and follows me with fresh drink in his hand. Through the door is the master bedroom with a massive King-size bed with mirrors mounted above it. Another doorway leads to a large bathroom with a glass shower stall and a whirlpool bath. "Strip down, bitch," Tiny says, and starts to remove his own clothing, folding each piece neatly and placing them on the counter. I strip down to my fuck-me shorts and muscle shirt. Tiny shakes his head at me. "Bitch, you playin' games? I tell you to strip down to your shorts? I want you buck naked and you better do it 'fore I lose my damn temper." I pull the rest of my clothes off and he pulls me close, rubbing his rough hands all over me, checking every square inch of my body to make sure it's been well shaved; that no stubble interrupts my smooth skin. I take care of what I can get to and Daddy takes care of the rest so Tiny pronounces the job a good one. The load I shot on myself when Lamar fucked my face is drying on my shaved groin but Tiny ignores it.
Tiny snaps open the latches on the small suitcase and removes a few items, a pair of leather cuffs connected by a chain, and a black box the size jewelers put bracelets in. He puts the cuffs on my arms just above the elbows so the chain pulls them close, forcing me to thrust my chest and nipples forward, then he sits on the closed toilet lid and pulls me down by them so I'm on my knees between his legs. He plays with my tits roughly, rolling them between his fingers while he pulls. They stick out over a quarter inch now and are tender from the daily workouts my Daddy gives them. As soon as Tiny starts to work them over, my mouth fills with spit and my hole twitches between my legs, hungry for cock.
"Mmm. You like a man workin' your titties don't ya', bitch?" Tiny asks. "I bet I could make you shoot again just by playin' with 'em." He lifts the black box in his hand. "Good thing you like 'em played with, 'cause me n' your Daddy thought it was about time you got some rings in 'em." He opens the box and two gold rings lay on black velvet. There is a thick needle in there too and the cork from a wine bottle.
"Tiny!" I cry. "How am I gonna explain nipple rings in the showers at school? I can't just show up wearing those!"
He pulls two ice cubes out of his drink and holds them against my chest, using his thumbs to hold my nipples to them, freezing them. At first the cold is a shock but then an ache spreads through them and finally numbness. He leaves the ice there for a long time even after that, then cleans them with an alcohol soaked cotton ball.
Men like Tiny do not explain themselves to Pussyboys like me or ask their permission. He informs me as a courtesy and even then he does it only because who my father is. "First of all, you're assumin' I give a shit 'bout any of that," he says. "Second, you foolin' yourself if think they don't already know you a bitch now. Any man with eyes knows you're a Pussyboy, 'cause it's written all over you. Hell, my boy took one look at you n' knew you was pussy for the takin'. These are just to let 'em know somebody already claimed your ass."
I watch as he lifts one of the thin gold rings and holds it against me, judging where he wants to place it along the length of my extended nips. I look closely, as if it might say something on it like, "Vince's Bitch."
Tiny catches me and laughs. "Shit, boy, these ain't big enough to get engraved! We might work you up to some of those, but this is your starter set." He puts the ring back in the box and picks up other items, bracing my left nipple against the cork and bringing the needle close after dipping it in alcohol. "You might not wanna watch this part," he says.
I look away and feel pressure, then a quick sting. Tiny reaches for one of the rings and there is a drop of blood between his fingers. My nipple tugs in the other direction and there is another stick. "That's one," Tiny says. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No," I say.
"You meant to say, 'No Sir," didn't you, boy?"
"Yes, Sir. That's what I meant to say, Sir."
"That's what I thought." He puts the ice against my right nipple again and holds it there before picking up the cork and needle again. More jabs and a tug and he says, "All done, baby. Hold on 'fore you look. I wanna clean it up a little." Another cotton ball and there is a sharper sting than any before and I suck in my breath. "You can look now," he says.
When I look I am expecting blood but my chest looks as it always does except the nipples are a little more red than usual and the sting is constant, as if I'm wearing clamps on them. Halfway down the length of each nipple are the gold rings, smooth and seamless; whatever opening they have that allowed them to go through is inside me. I also see that piercing and putting rings in my tits excited Tiny, because his massive tool is standing out from his groin and bobbing like a dowsing rod, thick veins covering it like vines and throbbing with his pulse. He stands and towers above me, so tall that his cock hangs above my head. The curve arcs it down to my nose where it drips pre-cum in a constant trickle. I catch it on my tongue and swallow it. My asshole starts to tighten and flex and I hump the air, beginning what Daddy calls my pussy dance, the motions I make when I'm hungry to get my ass fucked.
Tiny pulls the enema bag out of the suitcase and says, "I think it's about time I clean you out, don'cha think?"
I moan in dread. Tiny likes to fill me full and make me hold it till my bowels cramp and I'm sweating from the strain to hold it in. "Sir, you know I'm clean. Why do I have to take an enema?"
Tiny's already running water in the sink. I hope it's warm water this time because cold water is worse. With his free hand he grabs my chin and grips it, lifting my head so I'm looking at him while he lays down the law. "Cause I want to give you one," he says. "I like the look on your face when you fight to keep it in. 'Sides, I need to take the edge off 'fore the guys get here. You're gonna suck me off before I let you empty out. Consider it incentive to do a good job." He smiles big. "Course it may take a while, since I want you to spend some time lickin' out my asshole first, while I cool down some." Tiny lifts the bag, the seams straining, and hangs it from one of the light fixtures by the sink. The bag is so heavy the fixture groans from the weight. I groan too. "Now get in position, bitch," Tiny says. I turn around on my knees and bend over best I can with my arms still bound behind me.
The water is cold.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Later on I help out in the kitchen, pulling trays of sandwiches and snacks out of the refrigerator and putting out stacks of plastic cups, dumping bags of ice into coolers around the vast quantities of beer purchased for the guests, and dragging them behind the low bar in the den, the taste of Tiny's cum still strong in my mouth. I knelt between his knees for a long time, fucking my throat on the slab of meat hanging between his legs while he sat on the toilet lid. I would bring him to the edge of orgasm, his breath getting faster, his cock jumping in my mouth, then he would push me off and offer his balls for me to suck on instead or lift his beefy legs so I could pleasure his hole while he backed away from orgasm. Before it was over I was slamming down on his cock as fast and hard as I could. When he pulled out to tease me with it I begged him to shoot in my mouth, to end my time kneeling with the bolus of water cramping inside me. I could feel drops running down my thighs and he had warned me that if I didn't keep it in I'd clean it up while he filled me with another bag and I wouldn't be using a towel to do it with. I kept it in, barely. Finally I brought him over the edge and he pulled out and showed me the purple, swollen head, growing as I watched, piss-slit working like a fish's mouth out of water. I think he was considering blowing it on my face so I could wear it in front of his friends, but he must have changed his mind because he pushed the head in my mouth when he blasted his load, pumping so much semen into me that the pressure broke the seal of my lips and ran down my chin. After I nursed any remnants out of his cock he stood and left the bathroom laughing. I barely made it onto the toilet in time to empty the enema he'd given me somewhere other than the floor.
At eight, right when the guests are due, Tiny tells me to pull my pants down and bend over. I don't question it; he has broken me of that habit. He has a pint flask of tequila in his hands and as soon as I have assumed the position he pushes the neck in my unlubed asshole and dumps in half the bottle. He laughs and says it will have plenty of time to kick in because he doubts any of his guests have been on time in their lives. I ask if I can put some lubricant in me and he denies me permission, saying that the tequila will get me started and after the first load gets dumped in my ass, I'll have all the lube I need. To prove his point he pulls out a butt-plug I've never seen before, flesh toned and smaller than the ass-buster he and Daddy have used on me before but not by much. It takes some pushing to get it in, but finally it sinks home and Tiny turns the base so it's hidden in the cleft of my ass. He flips a switch and the little motor in it starts to vibrate but it's small enough that it can't be heard outside my body.
"That oughta keep your pussy pipin' hot," he says. "Now pull your pants up and tuck in your shirt." After I do that he circles me, making sure the tucks in the white dress shirt look good and my bowtie is even and centered, like a parent getting their kid ready for the prom. "I want you lookin' all sweet n' innocent when they get here, 'fore we show 'em what a fuckin' whore you really are."
By the time the doorbell rings I'm a little hot and bothered by the plug and tequila up my ass, feeling a little faint but with an itch in my ass that needs scratched bad. Tiny answers it and greets a man broad as the doorway, heavy but carrying it well, even light on his feet. They trade almost shouted hellos and back-slapping bear hugs and Tiny calls the man "Slim-Jim," a comic nickname given his size. I slip in and ask Slim-Jim if I can take his suit coat for him and if he'd like a drink. He looks at me, confused, and runs his hand over his tight, graying afro but hands over his coat and tie and asks for a beer. When I ask him what kind, naming the three brands Tiny has in the coolers he says, "I look like a man that drinks light beer? Either of them other two will be fine." Tiny orders a refill on his Jack n' Coke and I go to get their order, thinking about the "Jack n' Cock" my Daddy fed me, mentally licking my lips at the thought.
By the time I get back with the drinks two more men have arrived, both colorfully dressed, but as different as night and day. The tall, skinny guy enters first, wearing jeans and Converse tennis shows below a Hawaiian-print shirt so bright he must have a hidden battery pack to power the thing. Cornrows show from beneath a red bandanna on his head tied into a "do-rag". The other man is dressed in tan linen pants and leather sandals under a thigh length dashiki of African cloth. On his light, café au lait head he wears a matching brimless, flat-topped cloth hat. Tiny calls them Buzzy and Tyrell. There are no jackets to take so I ask them for their drink orders. Buzzy asks for a beer, his eyebrows raised, and Tyrell asks for a scotch and water, scowling at me while he gives instructions on how many ice cubes to use and parts of water to scotch. He's arrogant, and it's clear he'd enjoy sending it back if it doesn't meet his standards. Buzzy rolls his eyes but more greetings and complicated handshakes are traded while I head to the den to get their drinks.
Once again when I get back there is a new addition, a man not as tall or broad as Tiny but somehow every bit as impressive. His skin is dark as a ripe eggplant, so dark it even has a touch of purple to it. He doesn't wear a tie, but his jacket and pants hold his form so well and so stylishly that I have no doubt it was tailored for him. I'm sure my fashionista mother could name the designer and the price at a glance. Sharp and shiny as a blade, his head is shaved and polished to a high sheen and a regimented goatee and moustache surround his sensuous, generous lips. Even more unusual is the amount of respect he is given by the others. So far they have treated each other with the rough camaraderie of brothers, though I sense hostility between Tyrell and Buzzy going both ways. With the newcomer, Louis, there is none of that backslapping bonhomie. I am curious about him, especially since Tiny has instructed me to pay special attention to him. When the time comes, Louis is to be offered my mouth and ass before the others. Even if he wants me to leave with him I am to go; he thinks Louis might prefer to use me in private, away from the eyes of the others. I approach him.
"Sir? May I get you anything?" I ask.
His eyes skim over me with a knowing that the others lacked, but all he says is, "Thank you. Is there single-malt scotch?" His accent is vaguely southern, as if he spent time there in his youth but hasn't lived there for many years.
"Yes, Sir, there is Glenlivet. Shall I get some for you?"
"Three fingers, please. Neat."
I grin at him and hold up my hand in the three-fingered Boy Scout salute. "Three of my fingers, Sir, or of yours?"
He laughs, a great booming baritone like James Earl Jones having his ribs tickled, and takes my hand in his manicured one. The contrast between them is startling when seen like this, both in color and in size. He is truly ebony, as if carved of dark, hard wood then stained an even deeper shade. All four of my fingers cover only three of his and there is still a sliver of dark skin showing on either side. "I see the problem. How about we settle on four of your fingers? We won't worry about my fingers just yet," he says, winking at me out of view of the others.
"It will be a pleasure, Sir," I say, letting him wonder whether I am referring to getting his scotch or to the implied promise of his fingers. I leave to fetch his drink, his deep chuckle fading behind me. As I pass, the other three seem to really notice me for the first time. For whatever reason, Tyrell looks at me with resentment and, I think, jealousy for my easy interaction with Louis.
They follow behind me to the den, talking and laughing, and settle at the cloth covered tables Tiny and I set up. I deliver the Glenlivet to Louis and he thanks me, something the others didn't do. There are decks of cards and dominoes laid out on the tables, even a crudely carved chess set with African natives versus British Colonials. Tyrell says the chess set comes from his gallery, along with the masks and other items in the room. Buzzy picks up a carved stick with round bells up its length and shakes out a rhythm while Slim-Jim makes the comment that it's the same games they used to play "back in the day." In prison, I assume he means. I pull back and move in only to offer another beer or to refresh a drink. Conversation bounces from topic to topic and arguments break out about sports, music, women, and many other subjects. The disagreements generate lots of noise but no heat, no real anger
Buzzy is the first to break, to ask what most of them must be thinking. "Damn, Tiny! You ain't tryin' to high-hat us are ya'? Hirin' a bartender to show off what you got? I can get my own damn beer!
Tiny brings me forward with a jerk of his head and stands behind me with his big mitts resting on my shoulders. "This ain't the bartender, fool," he says, and starts unbuttoning my shirt. "This is the pussy. Thought it might be nice to have a Pussyboy to share between us like the old days." He takes my shirt off, then puts the bowtie back around my neck like a collar. He unbuckles my pants and I take them off after removing my shoes and socks, until I stand before them dressed only in my black Lycra fuck-me shorts, a white muscle tee, and a bowtie. He pulls the straps of my shirt in, exposing my stinging, newly pierced nipples. "We got to be careful 'bout his titties, though. Just put these rings in myself this afternoon." He toys with the rings gently, drawing a hiss of pain from me and making my cock jump. Tiny pulls me back, my head resting on his sternum, and says, "Why don't you tell 'em who taught you what a big cock could do for your hole. Who gave you that pussy between your legs?"
"It was my Daddy, Sir. My Daddy gave me a pussy between my legs by drilling it with his cock." I notice Louis' eyebrows rise at this.
"He come in your room one night and hold you down, force you to take it?" Tiny asks. "He take advantage of a sweet boy like you?"
"No, Sir. I went to him when he was drunk and begged him to let me suck his cock. I talked dirty to him to get him hard, then sucked him until he fucked my face and gave me his load."
The questions and answers continue, and Tiny has me tell the gathered men that Daddy fucked me for the first time while I talked to my mom on the phone, that he used suction cups to give me big nipples for him to play with, that he offers me to other men, that I took both Dad and Tiny in my ass at the same time. This news garners whistles, since they are familiar with what hangs between the big man's legs. Tiny's last questions are, "Your Daddy play with your cock when he fucks you, or let you play with yourself so you get off too? He make love to you nice and gentle, whisper sweet nothings in your ear while he does it?"
"Sir," I say. "He doesn't have to help me. A dick in my mouth or ass makes me cum on my own. Daddy says I've got a pair of clits inside me, one in my throat and one in my ass. He fucks me hard and rough, calling me fuckbitch and cunt while he does it. I like it that way."
"Show 'em what you got in back, baby," Tiny says, turning me around so they can see the slit in the shorts and the plug inside my hole.
"Mmm. Baby got back," Slim-Jim says. "Muscle-butt. When you gonna uncork that hole and let us play with it?"
Tiny pulls the plug out and holds it in his hand for a moment before fucking me with it in front of them, not sinking it all the way in, but forcing me up on my toes with its girth. He lets them see the vibrating length of it, what I've had inside me all along, before tossing it aside and pushing me forward, aiming me directly for Louis until I stand before the dark man with my head bent and my hands clasped behind my back. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?" I ask.
Louis puts his hand on the back of my thigh and runs it up my leg till his big fingers nudge my ass-lips. He leaves them there and massages the opening. "What's this, boy?" he asks.
"It's my hole, Sir," I say as he slides two fingers inside. At his nod I go on. "It's my pussy, Sir. My cunt, my cumslot, my fuckhole." Louis adds another finger and finds my prostate, rubbing it till I am moaning and panting, riding his big fingers. He pulls them out then goes in with all four fingers, fucking me with his long fingers till I am riding his hand down to his thumb.
"I want you to cum," He says. "Now." And I do. At his command I blow a wad in my shorts, moaning and yelling with pleasure as my orgasm washes over me. Even after it subsides I still ride his fingers and palm. "That wear you out?" Louis asks.
I look down, a little embarrassed, still hard in my shorts. "No, Sir. I can keep going until you decide to stop. I've only been worn out once and that was when my Daddy and Tiny fucked me at the same time and there was other stuff that came before that. A lot of other stuff."
Louis slides his fingers and palm out of me and holds it up for me to clean. I suck the tequila and ass juice off his fingers and lick his hand. "It's a good thing for men like us there are boys like you." He pulls my head down with his freshly cleaned hand and whispers in my ear. "You drink piss, boy?" he asks, then says, "Good," when I nod my head. He unzips and fishes his cock out of his silk boxers, bending it to get all that meat out of the narrow enclosure. When it springs free, semi-hard, I can see that it is a near match for my Dad and Tiny. I get on my hands and knees and suck the pre-cum out to clear it for the flow to come. When it comes it comes hard and fast and I have no hope of keeping up with it. Rather than risk missing some and staining his pants I go all the way down on him so he can empty his bladder straight down my throat while I look into his eyes. When he's finished I give his cock a few tentative pulls with my mouth and raise my eyebrows at him: a question. "That's all for now, thank you," he says, dismissing me. "I'm sure I'll think of something you can do for me later, but you've got other men to take care of now."
I pull off his cock, and a mutter of amazement comes from Buzzy as the full length of it slides from my mouth. "Thank you, Sir," I say to Louis before helping him tuck his cock back in his pants.
When I stand up Buzzy has a slim silver cigarette case open in front of him and it's full of rolled joints. I guess that's how he got his name. He lights a couple and starts passing them around. Tyrell makes a snide comment about how thin he rolled them and Buzzy says, "Shut the fuck up, man. That's kine bud and it'll knock your dick in the dirt. Good thing we got Pussyboy here to clean it off for ya' once you get back up." He lights another and offers it to me but pulls it away when I reach for it. "Baby, this is strong stuff. Maybe I better give you shotguns to dull it down some." He stands and pulls me close then takes a big toke and puts his lips against mine, blowing the smoke out so I can breathe it in. Eye to eye like that he winks at me; he just wanted to kiss me. I wink back and he gives me a few hits that way. The smoke is strong and tastes of evergreens, mint and beer from Buzzy's breath. It takes effect fast and my head gets a little vague but also focused. I immediately get a bad case of the munchies but what I want to eat is cock. Sucking dick is about all I can think of, I'm craving it so bad. I thank him for the weed and drop to my knees to thank him in a more personal way, but Tyrell grabs my arm and pulls me over to him, eager to claim next-in-line status after Louis.
Buzzy sneers, "Better lift your skirt up first Tyrell," referring to the colorful dashiki.
Tyrell flips him off and then lifts the hem of his tunic, exposing the bulge in his pants. I unzip him and pull out his cock, another big one but not quite in Tiny or Louis' league. I'm beginning to wonder if Tiny knows any guys with small or average sized dicks. I know from my experience at the porn booths that ALL black men don't have big cocks, but it seems that chances are good that a black guy is packing some serious meat between his legs. Tyrell grabs my head and starts force-feeding me his cock and I let that go on for a while even though that's not what I want right now. The pot has put me in the mood to take it a little slower so I sweep my hands up and out to break his grip. Like the bumper sticker says, "Let go of my ears. I know what I'm doing." I feel Tyrell take a breath to start complaining, so I pull off and start kissing and licking the tip of his cock, planting full-lipped smooches on the head while I look in his pale green eyes, lighter than mine, telling him silently to let me do it my way for a while. When I see his protests subside I go all the way down and suck the whole length at once, twisting and turning my head to stimulate him. I start to slide up and down his pole with my mouth and within twenty seconds he's swearing like a sailor with Tourette's syndrome. "Oh fuck yeah, bitch. Suck that black cock. Take that motherfucker down your throat. Oh, God yeah. Your Daddy sure taught you how to suck a mean dick, bitch. Bet you lovin' that nigger cock, ain't ya' faggot? Oh fuck^Å" He keeps rambling on but I tune him out so I can focus on the bounty of meat in front of me. The weed has given me focus I've never had before and I swear I can feel every ridge and vein as my tongue slips past them, every bubble and spurt of pre-cum as I slide the fat prong down my throat. I am already a dedicated cocksucker but under the influence of the weed I am focusing on it like never before, worshiping cock with all of my senses while I pleasure it. Tyrell bucks in his seat, thrashing from my attentions and crying out. His spasms tell me he's about to blow so I take his cockhead in my mouth while he shoots. Cum splashes and fills my mouth and I moan when I get it and receive it like communion. I pull off and savor it on my tongue, sampling it like fine wine, before swallowing it down. When I pull away Tyrell is still gasping, his chest heaving breaths as he twitches in his chair. I look away, already on the prowl for the next cock to suck.
I head back to Buzzy but he diverts me, saying "Go see Slim-Jim for a while baby. I wanna take a crack at that ass." I notice a glance from Buzzy and a small nod from Louis; permission to go first has been asked and granted. I'm not sure what Louis is to these men but he is a leader. I'm not even sure of where Tiny fits in the hierarchy anymore, whether he is Louis' equal or second in command.
Slim-Jim has discarded his pants and underwear but is still wearing dark socks, leaning back in his chair with his massive legs spread wide. When I first saw him I thought he was pudgy and soft but that couldn't be further from the truth. Like Tiny he has some extra pounds hanging on his frame but it's all underneath a muscular belly. His stomach is as tight as a medicine ball and about the same size, with hard muscle coating it like a suit of armor. With his shirt open like this his torso looks like a great oak barrel with a fat cock at the bottom. He's big all over, with calves, biceps, and forearms that look soft at first but with just enough fat to soften them but underneath they are pure muscle. I stop for a moment to smile at him before getting to work on him but he just says, "Suck my cock, you fuckin' faggot! Feed you some black cock that'll make you forget all about your Daddy's white dick." It stops me for a second, but it also narrows my focus. I feel insulted on behalf of Daddy and I can either get mad or get even. I decide to indulge myself in both. A cocksucker like me would never scrape him with my teeth and make him think I can't take him. Instead I set off to make him shoot as fast as I can and make him lose face by cumming quickly. Still high, I give him the works; sucking and deep-throating him at the same time; pulling on his big balls; making the big motherfucker squirm in his chair as I give him a blowjob like none he's ever had before. Within three minutes he's panting, within five he's on the edge. I pull off and make him beg me to finish him.
"Oh God, baby. I'm there. I'm right there. C'mon, baby. Take my cock. Please baby. Finish me off. Let me shoot in your mouth."
I tease him some, going all the way down and letting him get closer then pulling off, staring in his eyes the whole time, enjoying the power I have over him. Maybe it's the pot, but for the first time ever I have a sense of my own strength. Out of mercy I let him shoot in my mouth then kiss him, leaving smears of his own semen on his lips. When I back away his chest is heaving and his lips puff out with every breath. I don't thank his for his load.
Suddenly I feel a strong hand grab my hair and pull me up on my knees. "Think you're somethin', don't you bitch?" It's Louis and all traces of the polite, almost courtly man from before is gone. "Since you're showin' off, I might just have to show off a little too. Teach you what a man can do to your pussy." He shoves me away so I land on all fours at Buzzy's feet. "Get him started, Buzz. I'm gonna teach the faggot a lesson in manners."
Buzzy looks at me with something like pity then unzips his pants. Before he exposes himself he snaps his fingers like he just remembered something and retrieves the African bell stick from the shelf. He snaps two round bells off it and tells Tyrell to shut up when he starts to complain. The bells are the size of a small rubber ball and jingle in his hand as he brings them close to me. He grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts it off me, exposing my pecs and my stinging nipples. With a little maneuvering he attaches the bells to the rings, pinching the brass clasps around them. The weight of them stings my newly pierced nips.
"I like a little music when I fuck," Buzzy says. "Somebody put some damn music on. Somethin' fast I can ring those bells along with." The CD player kicks on and some thumping, bass-heavy, track comes on.
I assume the position, spreading my legs wide and lowering my upper body so my ass makes an inviting target. Buzzy shucks off his jeans and underwear, exposing a long, thin, circumcised cock with a big head. It looks like an apple of the end of a mop handle.
"You got lube, man?" He asks Tiny.
"This bitch don't need lube," Louis says. "Show-off here is gonna take it dry."
I silently thank Tiny for the Tequila still in my ass, hoping it'll help ease the entry of Buzzy's big cockhead. He sinks to his knees behind me and I feel it resting against my hole like a small fist while he grips my hips. Louis kneels beside me and lifts my head so he's looking into my eyes. "Give it to him, Buzz," he says.
Buzzy pushes hard against my hole but can't break though my clenched ring. "It won't go in, man. This bitch is TIGHT!"
Louis snaps, "Then FORCE it in, goddamnit. Showboat here can take it, can't you bitch?"
Buzzy shoves and his cockhead pops in. It hurts so bad I honest-to-god scream from the pain. This is every bit as bad as when Daddy popped my cherry. Buzz pauses to let me get used to it but Louis tells him to keep fucking, that I need to learn my lesson. I'm trembling from the pain of it and crying out every time he inches in further. Louis lifts my head again, staring into my tear-streaked face.
"How come you disrespected my man Slim like that? Huh, faggot?" His dark face is made darker by anger. "You better have a good answer for me or I'll kick your ass after I fuck it. Nobody treats my friends like that, 'specially not some cumwhore faggot like you." He turns to Buzzy. "Goddamnit, Buzz. Slam fuck the bitch's ass. I'm tryin to get some answers outta him."
Buzzy picks up the pace and finally hits home, hitting some wall deep inside me. I can't feel his groin against me so I know he's not all the way in yet, there's still more to go. He applies more pressure and rotates his hips till something in me gives way and Buzzy sinks all the way in, rearranging my guts to suit the needs of his cock. Louis holds my hair the whole time watching me cry and yowl like a scalded cat.
"I'm sorry Louis, Sir!" I cry. "I'm sorry. He said something about my Daddy that I didn't like and it made me mad. I love my Daddy and I thought Slim-Jim insulted him! Oh God, please Sir it hurts. I'm sorry I disrespected you, Slim-Jim. Please Sir make him stop. It hurts bad." I lift one of my hands from the floor and grab his free one, kissing his fingers and sucking on them, begging with my eyes.
Louis' considers for a moment then makes a short nod. His face softens and something like a smile crosses his lips. "You love your Daddy, huh boy?"
"Yes Sir, Louis Sir. He made me and then he^Åhe^Å" I can't go on.
"What did he do, boy?" Louis demands.
"He gave me a pleasure hole between my legs, Sir. Taught me how good it could make me feel and how good I can make men feel with it. He gave me a^Åpussy, Sir. Please let Buzzy put some lube on his cock. It hurts really bad."
"Boy, what you said makes sense so I ain't mad any more. But you still got to take your punishment. Buzz'll give you a hot load of lube up your pussy soon enough." He looks behind me. "Buzz, this is to make him remember what he is and where he stands. His Daddy can take care of himself. Now fuck the hell out of his ass and play us a song on these damn bells," he says, jingling one of them on the tip of his finger so it stings even more.
Buzzy speeds up his thrusts and every time his pelvis slaps against my ass the bells hanging off my nipple rings jolt and jingle, their swinging weight tugging and burning. The CD player hums as the discs are switched and a souped up version of "Papa Was A Rolling Stone" starts to belt from the speakers. "Oh yeah, baby," Buzzy says, "That's some old-school fuckin' music," and picks up the pace till the bells sound like a herd of reindeer in the snow. He's slam-fucking me now and I've given in to his cock, taking it because I have to, because it's my punishment. Buzzy is singing along with the music, his hips dancing against my hole and I find that I am getting hard, that I have come through the other side of the dry fuck back into a place of pleasure. There is still pain but it is the kind that I can handle, that I like. I fold my arms onto the floor and lay my head down, arching my ass up to give a good fuck-target. "Damn, baby. You are a fuckin' cockwhore, ain't 'cha? Gimme that pussy, bitch," he says and slaps my ass. "Oh fuck. Tight pussy grabs ON when ya' slap it!" He plays my ass like bongo drums, using all parts of his hands to create different sounds, spanking my taut cheeks in time with the ringing of the bells, the slap of his groin against me, the song on the stereo, turning my whole body into a percussion instrument. He discovers that I cry out when he hits deep with real power behind the stroke. He uses my yelps as a note in his fuck-symphony too, till he is a one-man band and I am all the parts. The song on the stereo is an extended version but finally it reaches its crescendo and Buzzy reaches his along with it. "Oh fuck yeah!" he yells. "'Bout to give you a big load of lube for that hot hole. Fill you up till its comin' out your ears! Gonna make your pussy SLOPPY with cum!" He slams deep when the spasms start and matches my cry with one of his own. Buzzy grabs my hips and shakes me on his cock like a maraca, and I'm ringing like Christmas Day. The song ends and still he fucks, slowing down as he froths his seed into foam in my hole.
With a gasp he jerks his cock out my ass, twitching and shuddering from his orgasm, panting from the composition he just played on my ass.
"Clean Buzzy's cock off, bitch," Louis says, removing his clothes. "C'mon Tiny. You and me are up next. You want heads or tails?" He turns to look at us. "Buzz? Soon as you get yourself straightened out, give the faggot a couple of hits off of one of those joints. He's gonna need it."
I crawl over to Buzzy and see that his cum is bubbly all over the length of his rod, tinged pink with my blood from his rough entry. I put my lips against it but he gasps and pulls away, still too sensitive to have me tough it. I let him calm down a little before trying again, then lick his cock clean before taking it in my mouth to get it all. I clean out his tubes while he pats my head like a good puppy and his breathing settles. He slides out and bends over to give me a kiss on the mouth before standing. "I'm gonna give you some BIG hits, baby," he says. "I seen these two take on a boy before and it's a sight to see!"
"Roll over on your back, Pussyboy," Tiny says. "I wanna show you somethin'." As soon as I roll over Tiny drops to his knees, the floor shaking from the impact. "Now open your mouth." I yawn open and he pops one of his big balls in. "Louis, come down here and put your balls 'gainst his taint, lay your cock out on his belly." I feel but can't see Louis take the position Tiny has laid out. " Now give me your hand, faggot." He takes my hand and lays it on my sternum. "I figure where I am is about how deep I can fuck into you and the same for Louis. Now spread your fingers wide." I open my hand and stretch the digits out as far as they'll go. Tiny moves my hand a little till my pinky is touching Louis' cock and my thumb is touching Tiny's. He chuckles, a grating, rumbling noise that vibrates down his frame to the testicle I'm lapping at with my tongue.
"That's right, bitch. When me n' Louis are all the way in you, that's how far apart our cocks are gonna be. You was any shorter we could rub 'em together in the middle!"
"Hey Buzz," Louis yells. "Hurry up with joint, man. Tiny and me got some fuckin to do!"
"Yeah," Tiny says. "I want to get this show on the road before the rest of the guys get here!"