Then a face looked up at me. Big blue eyes, sweaty forehead, parted lips, the flush of sexual excitement all too easy to read.
This was the face not of some chick, but of a fellow fisherman named Guy who was getting pounded furiously by that hefty pair
of hard buttocks. As soon as I realized he saw me, I fled.
I stumbled back to the couch and passed out. When I awoke it was very early. Birds in the trees were just beginning to stir,
and a cool breeze wafted in from the open screen door. Jacques was right there offering me breakfast —and I was looking at
him in a different light. From that time on our relationship was subtly altered.
I was a competitive swimmer in high school, and had won several championships. Jacques said he loved to watch me swim, so
we went often. I loved it too. The water was sparkling clear in the spots he managed to find, and he assured me the “gators”
were nowhere nearby. When I would strip down to my tight spandex competition trunks, Jacques would look me over with a grin
and offer a loud whistle before he would slap my back with a staggering wallop. “What a bod, Stanley! Lean and lanky like
a fine thoroughbred horse!”
If Jacques enjoyed watching me swim, I enjoyed watching him undress. He liked to sprawl out on his bed all but naked, only
a pair of loose boxers hiding his private parts. His big chest was hairy like his ass, light blond swirls of hair covering
it, with two nipples poking out. His biceps were big like his hands. His stomach was not exactly rippling with muscle, but
was smooth and flat with a trail of that same light hair that ran down right through his navel and disappeared into his shorts.
His thighs were tree trunks, and graced with that same swirling fur. I didn’t get to see him completely nude too often, although
he came out of the shower and sauntered into our room now and then, his thick dick flopping above a pair of substantial nuts.
I was a cherry, a virgin, totally. I had been so busy with swimming for the past five years, competitions and all, I had not
spent much time dating or even having friends. Now I was obsessed with Jacques and his big hands, big dick, and big butt.
I caught Jacques with Guy a second time. It was a warm evening when I had gone into town to fetch some supplies in Jacques’
souped-up convertible. When I returned unexpectedly for my forgotten wallet, I halted at the screen door and peered inside
before entering—I’m not sure why, intuition perhaps.
Jacques was sprawled on the couch with his legs spread, Guy kneeling between them. His giant hands were twisted in Guy’s short
dark hair, pulling his head up and down over the stiff dick rising up from Jacques’s naked crotch. I stared at that dick.
I had never seen it hard; it was fat and glistening with spit. It stood tall, hard, and powerful, as if it was meant to be
that way, forever stiff. Guy’s lips gaped wide as they swallowed the big shaft, and he snuffled loudly, the ever-present buzz
of insects behind me only scant competition for his slobbering moans.
I stared through the mesh of the screen, my eyes wide and my mouth agape. I realized my cock was rising too; perhaps it was
attempting to compete with Jacques’s big one. I could not turn away as I watched the two of them move in a moaning dance.
Together they wrapped Jacques’s giant boner in a condom, which did nothing to disguise the swollen girth of it. A moment later,
Guy was kneeling in front of the couch and Jacques was behind him, plowing furiously, pumping his dick into Guy’s parted crack,
the shaft disappearing between his pale ass cheeks.
I fled. After that I constantly imagined the two of them together.
A month later, Guy quit his job and left, which I admit did not bother me. One day I went off swimming alone, which Jacques
had warned me not to do, what with the alligators and all. It was a quiet Sunday evening, and the sun was just setting when
I rose from the water and stood on the shore, dripping wet.
“I told you not to swim alone,” a voice from the trees startled me. I recognized it as Jacques’s deep boom. “I wouldn’t want
to see no gator biting off that stiff dick you got waving there.”
I stared into the shadows, clutching a towel in front of my skimpy trunks. I had been thinking of Jacques and Guy together,
and my cock had grown hard during my final laps. He had seen it poking out from my spandex trunks. How humiliating!
Jacques was sitting beneath a weeping willow, its huge branches tangled with their baggage of moss, waving in the evening
breeze. He was gazing at me, a strange expression on his face, his back against the rough bole of the tree. One of his arms
was draped over a raised knee, the other was behind his back, the biceps bulging. My dick was harder than ever, and I realized
I was shaking.
He was quiet for a few moments, staring up at me, a half smile on his face. He finally spoke. “I know you’ve seen Guy and
me together, doing it. Fucking.”
It was eerily quiet, except for the ever-present buzz of mosquitoes. Then a big hand reached out and touched my leg, just
above the knee. It was like a jolt of lightning hitting me. The sensation of his callused fingers on my bare flesh raced right
up my thigh and into my aching crotch. I jerked.
His hand was slow and gentle as he began to stroke my thigh lightly while staring up at me. His smile broadened then; his
fingers had risen to the lower band of my trunks. There was no question where they were headed. Yet still I could not move.
He spoke again, this time in a whisper. “Come on. Come on.”
I sank down over him, a moan rising up from deep in my chest. His hands went round my waist and pulled my crotch to his face.
His mouth opened, the gaping lips connecting with the head of my hard cock through the span-dex of my swim trunks. That was
only briefly, before his hands ripped at my trunks, pulling them down and exposing my crotch—my bouncing balls and ramrod-stiff
dick. He engulfed it with his mouth, wet heat, sucking lips, and a twirling tongue all at once scorching my poor meat.
“Oh man, oh God, yes, oh man, oh man,” I heard myself groaning. I was in shock. Then I felt big hands grasping my ass, a cheek
clenched in each callused paw. I was pulled into the vortex of the mouth eating me alive by those hard palms on my ass. And
the hands were not idle. Jacques used them to squeeze and press my butt cheeks, eagerly kneading them to match the fervor
of his cocksucking. He pulled the cheeks apart and buried his fingers in the crack, sought out my asshole and began an insistent
assault on it. I did not know I had a butthole before that moment, but he made me all too aware of it then. His fingers dug
at it, tickled it, made it open up for him.
“What are you doing to me?” I actually shouted when a finger slid into my quivering ass ring. The ache in my butthole was
profound, but it was also as if I was suddenly discovering an itch I wanted scratched as he began to rub and poke inside me.
His mouth slipped off my cock. He looked up at me, his eyes swimming with lust, his lips wet and soft. “I want to fuck you.
Can you take it?” he asked, just like that.
“Fuck me, go ahead!” I grunted, writhing around the finger buried halfway up my asshole, shoving my spit-slick cock against
his cheeks and chin. I was insane with lust, the pent-up desire inside me a dam breached, with me caught in the flood.
He laughed, rising up to embrace me. He was a huge guy. Even though I was only an inch shy of his 6-2 in height, he was so
broad I felt half his size.
His finger had not left my butthole, and he lifted me slightly off the ground by the ass. I felt engulfed by his hairy flesh,
like I had when his mouth had captured my dick. He was kissing me all of a sudden—something I had not expected. I was appalled
for a moment: the tongue he slid inside my mouth had been all over my dick a moment before, and his mouth tasted like crotch—at
least I imagined it did. But then his finger rammed deeper into my tight fuck channel, and I groaned and sucked his tongue
just as deeply, now eager to taste my own cock juices on his lips. I was suddenly a total slut at his beck and call. I wanted
him to fuck me. I wanted him to replace that probing finger with his huge, hard boner. Whether I could take it or not, we
would see. I had to try, though. He must have been thinking the same thing.
He maneuvered me; I obliged. I was bent over, leaning against the willow tree, my trunks torn down and over my feet one at
a time. I was pliant and willing as he ran his rough hands all over my back and chest and crotch. I leaned into the tree and
moaned as he stroked my dick with one hard hand and played in my butt crack with the other. He leaned into me, his muscles
hard, the soft down of his blond fur tickling me.
“You’re so soft, so smooth and hairless. God, you feel so fucking good!” he muttered in my ear, leaning over my back as he
continued to play with my ass and dick. Then he moved; he was behind me on his knees. He pulled the cheeks of my ass apart
and buried his face in my crack. He was suddenly licking my butthole.
I shook all over; I moaned; I pressed my butt back against him. The swirling tongue lapping at my hole was maddening. His
hard hands had my cheeks pried wide apart, my butthole open for his enthusiastic licking. Fingers groped at the rim of my
hole, prying that open as well. His tongue went right inside me, where his finger had been before. I grunted like a beast,
shook violently, and realized I was shooting, my dick abruptly spurting without me so much as touching it.
Jacques ignored it, or did not even realize it was happening. But I could not ignore it myself, the ecstasy was so profound;
my cock lurched spasmodically while my asshole was being invaded deeper and deeper by Jacques’s tongue. Then he added a finger,
which slid in easily with the copious lubrication from his tongue and mouth.
That was too much. I collapsed on my hands and knees, my head swimming, my dick drooling all over the grass beneath us. Jacques
followed, his hands clutching my upraised ass, his tongue digging into it. I had my face in my arms, moaning nonstop.
He came up for air, but only for a moment. His hips shoved up against mine; he was kneeling behind me. He splayed my own thighs
farther apart with his hairy trunks and lifted my ass with his hands. I felt his cock against my butt cheeks, then against
my butthole. I was going to get fucked! I felt his hands moving back there, and through the fog of my orgasm I realized he
was wrapping his cock in a condom. I was thankful he had one. Obviously he’d been planning this.
I was still shaking in the final throes of my orgasm, and my body was limp all over. That must have been why his dick slid
inside me without a hitch. There was an incredible feeling of being stuffed, of being opened up and filled and overfilled.
My mouth dropped open, I moaned and spread my knees. Jacques had each of my ass cheeks in one of his big hands, and he held
them wide as he began to feed me his giant meat.
“I’m inside you. My cock is sliding up your tight butt. Goddamn, it’s hot as hell and sucking me up so smoothly!” Jacques
groaned. That was so hot. He was fucking my ass and he was loving it!
But that was just the beginning. He must have had only the head inside, because I began to feel more and more of him entering
me. I gasped and wriggled my butt and slobbered on my arms as I heard my own voice begging for more. And more he gave me,
so much more I was astounded by how much dick I could take inside me.
He slowly invaded me with that giant rod, beginning to thrust just a bit, then withdrawing, then thrusting a bit deeper. I
jerked with each penetration, my asshole straining to accommodate the girth, my guts feeling each prod against some inner
pleasure station that made me want to open up wider and take more. Every time he poked a little deeper, that sensation inside
made my dripping dick harder. By the time he hit bottom, with his hairy balls nestled up against my sweaty crack, my dick
had swollen stiff all over again.
I knelt there and accepted it. My ass rim was pulsing around his cock with a sensation so exciting it vied with the throbbing
ache of his dickhead prodding my prostate. When he began to stroke me with it, I was babbling with insanity.
“Fuck me! Fuck me! Stick your dick up my butthole!” I chanted over and over. He held my butt and did just that. His big hands
began to caress my back, then reached under me to pinch my nipples, giving me an electrifying sensation. His hands moved lower
and clamped onto my dick and balls. He held them while his cock fucked my asshole. He had me buried in his bulk, his sweat
soaking me, his dick reaming me with increasingly forceful thrusts.
I opened my eyes and realized it was growing dark. The cloying scent of the woods, the buzz of the insects, the rough bole
of the tree, and the gentle caress of the bayou breeze melted into my consciousness as Jacques whispered in my ear.
“I wanted your ass so long. I wanted this, yeah, my big dick inside your tight hole. Goddamn, you feel so perfect, so good.”
I answered him with equal fervor, mumbling into the grass how much I wanted him, needed him. “Fuck me, fuck me,” I turned
my face toward him and said.
He rose up, releasing me with his groping hands. He howled, then pounded twice all the way up my battered butthole, then pulled
out. “I’m cuming! I’m cuming all over your white ass!” he screamed, his voice echoing in the woods.
I felt him splatter my upturned butt with cream. The thought of his jizz all over my ass, of his cock spurting in orgasm was
enough to precipitate another ejaculation of my own. I squirmed beneath him as I shot a second load on the grass.
Then he was lifting me, turning me, embracing me. It was over.
But it wasn’t. For the remainder of the summer my ass got reamed. Jacques’s big dick filled me up with cream time after time
under the willows in the bayou heat. I will never forget that summer down in the bayou. Neither will my ass.
Barry Alexander
B
ound and gagged, Adair lay on the stone floor. He could wriggle a little, flex the muscles in his shoulders and thighs, but
his arms were numb and his whole body ached. The soldiers had simply opened the door and flung him into the king’s chamber.