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He was a mountain of a man . . . tall, with broad shoulders, a big chest, and an even bigger belly. A bushy black beard covered half his face, and black hair covered his heavy forearms, trailing past his wrists onto the back of his meaty hands. His boy looked tiny next to him . . . small and skinny, with a heart-shaped face, but the same black hair and sun-browned skin.
I’m not great at recognizing people, which is a problem when you’re the new priest at a large church . . . though people expect less of you when you’re just the assistant and not the rector. Still, it took me a moment to recognize the pair as they bore down on me after Mass . . . even though I had seen them both only the night before.
In my defense, this was my first time seeing them fully clothed.
I felt my stomach twist . . . had they recognized me? Were they going to make a scene? I had been wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap at Gardner Park last night . . . jeans and a plain t-shirt . . . not my collar, obviously! . . . maybe I was still safe? I erased the panic from my face as best I could and tried to smile as the man planted himself in front of me.
“Morning, Padre,”
His voice was gruff but sounded friendly. My stomach untwisted just a smidge.
“Good morning! You’ll have to remind me of your name . . . I’m afraid, after all these months, I’m still learning.”
I stuck out my hand, and he grabbed it, squeezing hard as we shook.
“Well, we never did say our names, did we? I’m Butch McCullough, and this here’s my son, Joseph Jerome, but he goes by Joe-Joe. And accordin’ to the bulletin thingie, yuh’re Fr. Kevin.”
My stomach twisted even harder. I was still not totally certain that he recognized me from Gardner Park, but I had a sinking feeling . . .
“Yes! That’s me . . . Fr. Kevin.” I had no idea what else to say.
“So me and Joe-Joe was wonderin’ if yuh was free after lunch today.”
He winked at me. It was not a subtle wink.
“Figgered we could pick up where we left off last night!”
The McCulloughs lived a little way out of town, in a rundown old house that had probably been a farmhouse originally. It didn’t look like there was much farmland left, but they still had open space between their house and the nearest neighbor, a subdivision so new it was still under construction. There was a beat-up pickup truck in the driveway . . . and a police cruiser parked next to it, which almost made me turn around and head back to the rectory. But I had chosen to keep my clerical collar on, and I decided I could claim to be making a pastoral visit if the law became too inquisitive.
I knocked once, waited . . . knocked again, more loudly, waited again . . . knocked a third time and was just considering if I should head home when Butch McCullough opened the door.
He was wearing a baseball cap, heavy work boots, and a pair of cut-off shorts . . . nothing else . . . and the cut-offs weren’t even buttoned. His big, firm body was covered with hair, and the front of his shorts bulged out obscenely.
“C’mon in, Padre! Stu’s here, and we already gittin’ started. Make y’self at home.”
He led me through a small front parlor and on to what had once been a dining room, I guessed, though the only furniture in it now was a stained mattress that lay directly on the splintery floorboards and a sort of swing set apparatus . . . a stout metal frame as tall as my head, with chains attached at the four corners and a leather rectangle about the size of a bath towel hanging waist-high in the middle. Sheets covered all the windows, so the room was softly lit by the sunlight that pushed its way through the thin fabric.
A policeman was standing next to the swing set, still in uniform, with his visored cap on his head. His blue jacket hung open, and his blue trousers were pushed down around his thighs, and his hands were grasping the head of the naked boy who knelt in front of him . . . Joe-Joe, our host had said this morning. The policeman was thrusting his rigid cock into Joe-Joe’s mouth as the boy wriggled and squirmed with the eagerness of a puppy. I noticed that the boy was not literally naked . . . there was a leather dog collar around his neck.
An actual dog, a large German Shepherd, sat in a corner of the room, its head up, watching attentively.
The policeman looked up as I came in. He smiled at me. “Welcome, Father . . . come join us. You gotta try Joe-Joe’s mouth. The boy’s a natural-born cocksucker.”
My cock was straining in my trousers at the sight. I ignored the voice in my head admonishing me to turn and leave this sinful place, and instead, I took my place by the policeman’s side and pushed down my trousers and underwear.
The boy grabbed my cock and started stroking it. It felt so good I gasped, and my body stiffened. Then his mouth was on my cock, enveloping the head in wet heat, his hand still stroking the root, and I gasped again, even louder. His other hand was still on the policeman’s cock, and as I glanced at it, I took a shameful satisfaction in the fact that my cock was noticeably larger than his. I was younger than him, too . . . he looked to be late forties to my twenty-nine, and his body was heavy and soft . . . the kind of body I might have some day if I gave up taking my daily run. He had a pleasant face, nothing remarkable, but it was enlivened now by a cheerful lustiness that triggered a surge of lustful attraction in me. I found myself hoping that this friendly older man would sodomize me before the end of the afternoon.
I smiled at him . . . Stu, our host had said . . . panting a bit in response to Joe-Joe’s mouth on my cock. Stu smiled back. Joe-Joe pulled off my cock and moved back to Stu’s, the boy’s hand continuing to stroke me as the policeman leaned in and kissed me. I felt a warmth in my chest as we held the kiss. When his tongue pushed into my mouth, I welcomed it in, and my hand moved to his bare butt as his moved to mine, kneading my buttock.
I felt our host lumber into place at my other side, and a meaty hand grabbed my other buttock. I broke the kiss and turned my head towards Butch. He grinned at me and said, “Yuh lookin’ right at home, Padre!” and then he leaned in and kissed me, his tongue thrusting straight into my mouth. Kissing was not something we had done last night, when the big man’s attention had been focused solely on my butt hole . . . had been focused on ruining it spectacularly!
His tongue action was rougher and more insistent than the policeman’s, but his very aggressiveness made my stomach flip in anticipation. When he broke the kiss, I glanced down at his cock just before his son took the head of it in his little pink mouth.
Butch’s cock was enormous, dwarfing mine. And his body was bigger and heavier and hairier than Stu’s. He looked perhaps halfway in age between me and the policeman, so that we made a curious trio . . . quartet! . . . the burly father, naked now except for his boots and his baseball cap . . . the slender young priest, still in his collar and black shirt, with black pants around his thighs . . . the husky middle-aged policeman, in his blue cap and jacket, with blue pants around his thighs . . . and the pre-pubescent boy in nothing but a dog collar, kneeling in front of the three, his hands flying on rigid cocks, his head bobbing as he shifted from man to man.
We stood and enjoyed it, the three of us, kissing and feeling each other up as Joe-Joe sucked and stroked us. But before anyone climaxed, Butch swatted his son lightly on the head and said, “Git yer ass in the sling, boy.”
Joe-Joe leapt to his feet and scurried over to the swing set apparatus . . . ‘sling’? . . . and clambered up onto the leather rectangle, wriggling around so his back lay on the leather and his knees were pulled back around his ears. He wiggled his smooth, pale butt at us, giggling as he did so, the tiny pink hole winking at us.
Stu went and knelt in front of the boy and shoved his face into his little butt. I was reminded of doing that same thing last night, and how wonderful the boy had smelled . . . and tasted . . . and how repulsed and turned on I had been when he pushed another man’s semen out of his butt into my unsuspecting mouth.
The policeman began to peel off his clothing, his tongue never leaving the boy’s hole except when he pulled off his undershirt, and soon his soft body was naked except for his socks. He had a light dusting of hair on his legs and arms, not so different from myself, and his bottom was temptingly plump. I took my cue from him and began to strip, taking my time, enjoying the scene. Stu stood and pushed his cock into the boy’s little butt, the man’s plump bottom clenching rhythmically as he thrust. The chains clanked in time with his motion as the loose tails of the chains swung against the frame.
I felt our host’s heat behind me, his hairy bulk pressing against my back, a hairy arm wrapping around me, a meaty hand grabbing my cock. His other hand appeared around my other side, holding a plastic drinking glass with ice and an amber liquid in it.
“Thought yuh might like some bourbon.”
I sipped it, the liquor warming my throat . . . the meaty body that was pressed against my back and the meaty hand wrapped around my cock firing my lust even further.
Stu pulled out of Joe-Joe and stepped aside, and Butch gave me a nudge with his hips.
“I wanna see yuh fuck ‘im, Padre.”
I walked over to the sling, the glass of bourbon still in my hand, and ran my other hand lightly along the boy’s smooth, skinny thighs and across his tight belly. Joe-Joe grinned up at me.
“Yuh gonna fuck me agin, Fr. Kevin?” His voice was still a high treble. “Yuh kin give it to me hard. I kin take it!”
I spit in my hand, rubbed it on my cock, and slowly pushed into the boy’s hole. Even after Stu had been in there, it was still tight, grabbing my cock as I penetrated deeper. Joe-Joe giggled and grunted and let out a long sigh when I finally bottomed out, every inch of my cock inside him. I began to thrust slowly, savoring the feeling, pausing occasionally for another sip of bourbon.
I knew from last night that Joe-Joe had no interest in kissing, so as much as I longed to bend down and press my lips to his soft little mouth, I made do with pumping my hard cock into his beautiful bottom. The candid emotions that flashed across the boy’s face . . . excitement, surprise, delight, fleeting moments of distress, excitement again . . . were as satisfying in their way as the tight grasp of his hole milking my member.
I heard a noise to my left and glanced over. Stu was kneeling in front of Butch, our host’s hands grasping the policeman’s head, his huge cock thrusting into the older man’s mouth. I felt my excitement grow and my thrusting speed up, and before I knew it, I had passed the point of no return and was grunting and clenching my butt and depositing my sperm deep inside our host’s son. Joe-Joe laughed out loud as I filled his bottom.
I pulled out and drained the last of the bourbon, plopping down on the mattress as I caught my breath.
Stu came and knelt on the mattress and started to suck my cock, but it was too sensitive, and I had to push him away. Instead, I took his cock in my mouth, feeling it gradually stiffen as I sucked. He lay back and lightly stroked my back, and I savored the flavor of Joe-Joe’s butt that lingering on Stu’s cock, mixed with his own scent.
The chains resumed their clanking, and I glanced over at the sling. Butch was sodomizing his son, thrusting with greater force than I would have thought possible with so large a cock and so small a boy. Joe-Joe was squealing and yelping, but he still sounded excited and happy. I focused most of my attention back on the cock in my mouth, but a part of my mind continued to listen to the clanking chains, the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh, and Joe-Joe’s squeals of delight.
After a while . . . and a second bourbon . . . it was my turn to lie back in the sling. Stu was the first to penetrate me. He started with his tongue on my butthole and moved directly to his cock without any stretching or fingering. It was uncomfortable for a very brief time, and then it felt lovely.
My first experience with anal penetration had been with a neighbor, when I was fourteen. Mr. Papageorge was the father of one of my middle school friends, a bulky, hairy man with black hair and olive skin, who kissed me tenderly and sodomized my roughly. I remember every one of our encounters with great fondness, and to this day, whenever a bulky older man penetrates my bottom, it brings a nostalgic warmth to my heart.
I glanced at Joe-Joe, who was on the mattress now, playing with the dog, the two of them wrestling and roughhousing. The boy’s hairless little penis was stiff as a nail, and I caught a glimpse of something bright red between the dog’s legs. Butch stood watching the pair, masturbating his huge cock.
I felt Stu’s thrusts grow quicker and harder, and he started breathing more heavily. He let out a long groan and pressed his cock deep. It twitched inside me, several times, and I knew that he had climaxed. I felt a burst of warmth in my rectum and a burst of a different sort of warmth in my heart.
Stu pulled out, and Butch immediately took his place. I sucked in a deep breath and slowly expelled it as our host’s thick member pushed into my bottom, going far deeper than Stu’s had. I was still sore from last night, but the feeling of his huge cock up inside me was so exciting I could mostly ignore the discomfort.
The big man thrust slowly at first, and I focused my thoughts on relaxing and opening up my insides for him. He soon picked up his pace and thrust with more force, his hands on my shoulders, his hips slamming into my buttocks. I was gasping for breath, and the chains were clanking loudly, and I had no idea what to do with my hands.
My eyes rolled wildly round the room . . . till I caught sight of what was happening on the mattress.
Joe-Joe was on all fours. The German Shepherd now stood behind the boy, its body tense, poised for action. The dog’s eyes were on Stu, who stood with his hand raised, as if telling the creature to hold. Though he had recently climaxed, the policeman’s cock was sticking straight out, stiff as a pole.
Stu dropped his hand, and the dog leapt forward, onto Joe-Joe’s back, its hips thrusting wildly!
Joe-Joe squealed in excitement. Stu reached under the dog and adjusted something, and Joe-Joe squealed even louder. The German Shepherd continued to thrust, quick and forceful, its head raised, scanning the room. Butch thrust into me a few more times, then pulled out, and we both focused on the bizarre sight. Even though it was happening right there in front of me, I couldn’t quite believe it. A dog sodomizing a child . . . my stomach felt queasy. It was so very wrong . . . and so impossible to look away from.
I think part of what made me so queasy was that I found the sight utterly riveting.
Butch helped me out of the sling, supporting me as I regained control of my legs. We stood in a sort of embrace, his big fingers casually digging into my hole, watching as the dog stopped his thrusting and stood still, his front legs grasping the boy’s sides. Stu looked up and spoke directly to me, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of lustful excitement.
“Rex is knotted with Joe-Joe now, so they’ll be down there for a while. He’s pumping the boy full of cum . . . a shitload of cum! Once he finally pulls out, the kid will be gaping open and juicy as hell. You should fuck him then.”
My cock throbbed. I stood, swaying slightly in my tipsy state, staring at the boy and the dog, my hand lightly stroking my cock. The hairy beast on top of the smooth boy . . . the animal’s head still raised, its tongue lolling . . . the boy practically purring as he wriggled under the creature . . . I had to stop stroking myself to avoid climaxing.
I heard a rattle of chains and a creaking noise behind me, followed by a loud grunt and the slapping noise of two men going at it, and without even looking, I knew that Stu was back in the sling and Butch was sodomizing him roughly.
I squatted by Joe-Joe and Rex and began to stroke my rigid cock again more firmly. The boy had reached back and was holding one of the dog’s hind legs . . . not sure why. His face was flushed and his eyes looked a little unfocused, but he raised his head and grinned at me, and said,
“Kin I suck yer cock, Father?”
I knelt in front of him on the mattress, moaning as his hot little mouth engulfed my cock. As he sucked, I ran a hand lightly along his smooth body, marveling again at the softness of his skin. I cautiously moved my other hand to the dog’s head, stroking the rough fur.
As I petted Rex and scratched behind his ears, my other hand slid under the boy, rubbing along his tight belly, seeking his stiff little cock. I rubbed a finger along it, and Joe-Joe moaned around my cock. I grasped it lightly between my fingertips and tugged a little, and the boy squealed. I rubbed and tugged and stroked with my fingertips, Joe-Joe responding by taking my cock deeper into his mouth. I felt my head bump into the back of his throat, and then the boy twisted his neck a bit, and I felt my head slip into his throat. I tugged and stroked more roughly at his little cock, and suddenly Joe-Joe was shaking all over, and his lips tightened around the base of my cock, and he jerked his hips away from my hand, as well as he could with the weight of the dog still on him, and he yanked his mouth off my cock, sputtering and gagging and gasping and then giggling madly.
I heard a gruff voice call out,
“Padre, Stu’s wantin’ yuh to fuck 'im!”
I kissed the top of Joe-Joe’s head and left him, face down on the mattress, panting from his orgasm, the dog’s cock still lodged deep inside him.
Stu’s butthole was gaping after our host’s big cock, and I slid in effortlessly. There was something lovely about how wet and hot and open he felt, and I began to thrust rather hard, my hands caressing his bulky torso, lightly pinching his nipples. We stared into each other’s eyes, and I leaned down and kissed him . . . a sloppy kiss with plenty of tongue . . . and then straightened up and thrust even harder. The older man grinned as I went to town on his butt.
I felt the warmth of Butch’s body behind me, his hairy belly rubbing the small of my back, his hands prying apart my buttocks, his cock nudging my butthole. I began to breathe more heavily as the big cock pushed into me, even as I continued to thrust into the policeman. The way Butch stood, his arms were tight around my chest but his hips were several inches away from my butt, leaving me space so that my hips could move a good six inches back and forth. It was as if I impaled Stu’s butt on my cock with every stroke in, and I impaled my own butt on Butch’s cock with every stroke out. It was incredible . . . the sensation on my cock and in my butt at the same time . . . and I soon lost control and climaxed inside the policeman, my whole body shuddering.
I heard a high-pitched voice by my elbow. Joe-Joe was no longer pinned under the dog.
“Are yuh done with ‘im? Kin I git in there?”
I sighed with relief when Butch slid out of me, and my softening cock slid out of Stu, and I could collapse on the mattress and simply watch for a bit.
And what a sight! Joe-Joe grabbed a cannister of Crisco that lay on the floor under the sling and smeared it all over his hands and up his forearms, his tongue sticking out between his lips as he concentrated on the task. I was distracted by my recent climax, and my brain was slightly foggy from the bourbon, so I didn’t quite grasp the implication of a hand and forearm being covered in grease just inches from a man in a sling, his legs in stirrups, his butthole gaping and oozing semen. And so I gasped in surprise when the boy put his little hand up to the policeman’s hole . . . and pushed it inside!
The boy moved slowly at first, sliding his forearm in and out, his hand remaining inside the policeman’s rectum. Stu moaned like a man possessed. Then Joe-Joe pulled his hand entirely out of Stu’s butt, and I saw a flash of shiny red before the policeman’s gaping hole closed up again . . . and then Joe-Joe pushed his hand back in with a vigorous shove!
I was so fascinated that I stood and joined them, staring at the boy’s smooth arm, tanned brown by the sun, punching in and out of the policeman’s pale white butt, more and more of his skinny forearm disappearing between the fleshy buttocks till I could barely see the boy’s elbow. Butch stood at Joe-Joe’s other side, his hand resting on his son’s shoulder, smiling proudly as he watched the boy sodomizing the policemen with his hand. The father glanced up at me.
“Yuh ever seen fistfuckin’ before, Padre?”
I shook my head. “No, I certainly have not. I didn’t even know it was physically possible.”
Butch grinned as he scoffed, “Anyone kin take a boy’s hand. Now, takin’ a man’s hand . . . THAT’s somethin’ worth braggin’ about.”
He looked at me, a glint in his eye.
“Yuh oughta stick yer hand up Stu’s butt. He’d love it.”
Stu grunted and made a sound of encouragement. I felt my heart race.
“Oh, I don’t think I could do that!”
Butch’s grin twisted as the glint in his eyes grew mischievous.
“Boy, git Fr. Kevin’s hand all greased up . . . he’s goin’ in next.”
I was shocked by how easily I slid inside. Not quite the proverbial ‘knife into butter’, but once I’d squeezed the widest part of my hand past the tightness of the policeman’s sphincter, it felt as though his butt sucked me inside. The warmth of his body . . . the feeling of pliant firmness wrapping my hand like a mitten . . . it was all so strange and so seductive. My cock was hard again in no time.
I felt a tap on the shoulder, and Butch’s big meaty hand offered me another plastic drinking glass with a generous serving of bourbon on the rocks. I held the drink in one hand, sipping occasionally, as I gently rocked my other hand back and forth inside Stu’s rectum.
I searched his face for signs of pain or distress as I increased my speed and range of motion, pumping my arm deeper in and farther out, but he looked simply . . . ecstatic. His hands grasped his nipples, pinching and playing with them, and his face reacted to every little movement of mine, his eyes widening, his mouth smiling, then opening into an “O”, then dropping open, then smiling again. It was a delight simply watching him react.
I felt movement around my legs, and a small, hot mouth engulfed my cock, distracting me from the task at hand, in a wonderful way. As my mind danced between Stu’s rectum and Joe-Joe’s mouth, I was reminded of a comment that the policeman had made earlier . . . that after the German Shepherd pulled out, “the kid will be gaping open and juicy as hell.”
I leaned over, somewhat awkwardly, and kissed Stu on the lips, lingering on the kiss as I pumped my arm a few more times. Then I carefully slid out and reached down with my clean hand to pull Joe-Joe to his feet. I thought about asking the boy if he was up to taking my cock in his butt again, but some part of me decided not to ask permission . . . was excited at the thought of simply doing what I wanted to do. Of course, I was quite confident the boy would say ‘yes’ if I did ask, but it was . . . a turn on . . . not to.
I picked Joe-Joe up, and carried him the few feet to the mattress, and laid him down, and rolled him onto his stomach. He stuck his butt into the air and wiggled it around, leaving me in no doubt that ‘Yes, Father!’ would have been his answer.
I buried my face between his smooth little butt cheeks, tonguing his hole, which was puffy and swollen but no longer gaping. It tasted strange, but enticing, and as his hole winked open and shut, I got bursts of a salty, funky, watery liquid. The thought that this was Rex’s semen made my cock throb. I climbed up on the boy, positioned my cock, and sank it into the puffy hole in one thrust, pushing in harder and faster in my excitement than I had really intended.
The boy squealed, but he still angled his hips to take my full length, and I began to thrust my hips like a madman . . . a drunken madman . . . sodomizing the child as he squealed and gasped and whined and grunted beneath me. His hole was no longer tight, but it dragged on my cock deliciously, all hot and wet and slippery. The sensation was so wonderful I knew I wouldn’t last long.
I heard a low-pitched cry from the other end of the room . . . the baritone version of a scream . . . followed by a gasping moan. I glanced towards the sling and saw Butch’s thick forearm disappearing between Stu’s buttcheeks. The policeman was arching his back, his arms flailing, as Butch stood still, his arm not even moving, his meaty hand embedded in Stu’s body.
It was too much. My hips thrust harder and faster, and I clutched Joe-Joe’s smooth, slender body tightly as I unloaded in his soft little butt.
I lay on top of the boy for some time, panting till I caught my breath, the mattress drenched in my sweat. Eventually, Joe-Joe got restless and began to squirm under me, and I rolled onto my back and freed the boy from my embrace. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the grunts and clanks and anguished moans from the sling, where Butch apparently still had his hand inside of Stu. I heard giggling, and a snuffling sound, and the click of nails on wood, and suddenly a wet snout was snuffling at my ear, and a rough tongue was licking my cheek.
I rolled onto my side to protect my face from the dog’s . . . Rex’s . . . attentions, not stopping to think that this would expose my butt to the creature. His tongue shifted its target, and I felt small hands prying my buttcheeks apart, and a rough tongue lapping at my exposed butthole. The tongue on my hole felt good, and I moaned, and I heard Joe-Joe giggling madly. The boy’s small hands pushed and prodded and poked my nether regions, till I found myself on my knees, my butt in the air, my chest and cheek pressed to the mattress. I was too drunk to put up any resistance or even to figure out what the boy was up to.
Suddenly, there was a hot, furry body on top of me. Paws grabbed my sides, scratching me painfully, but it was nothing like the pain of the hard rod poking my ball sack, poking my butt, poking everything back there except my butthole. Then the poking rod found my butthole, and sank inside, and began to hammer my prostate.
I was helpless . . . outraged . . . confused . . . turned on. I was being sodomized by a dog . . . an unbelievably shameful, perverted act . . . the ultimate degradation. And I was letting it happen. Worse than that . . . I was excited by it, even more than when I had watched this same dog sodomize the boy. The dog’s cock was hot inside me, was pounding my rectum, stretching my butt hole . . . was pushing something huge inside me, stretching me wider even than Butch’s cock. The creature was filling me up, pushing against my sphincter . . . was inside me, stretching my rectum.
The pounding stopped, and I felt the heat of the dog on top of me . . . inside me . . . and I felt hot pulsations in my rectum, as the dog injected me with his semen. I remembered Joe-Joe reaching back and grabbing the dog’s leg, and just as I was wondering if I should do the same, Rex moved, hopping off me and turning around as though trying to leave. But his cock was stuck inside me, and I yelped as it raked the inside of my rectum.
“You’ll be like that a good ten, fifteen minutes till his knot goes down,” a voice called out to me, and I was suddenly reminded that my moment of ultimate degradation had an audience. My cheeks burned.
Butch and Stu and Joe-Joe were standing over me, Butch’s hand resting on his son’s shoulder. Our host said,
“That was a right purty sight! Yuh doin’ okay there, Padre?”
I put a brave face on it and simply nodded my head, but now that I had time to reflect, I felt close to crying.
But Butch seemed willing to take my response at face value, and he flopped heavily on the mattress, lay back, face up, and told his son,
“Time to ride yer daddy, boy!”
I stayed on my knees, feeling stiffer and stiffer, as Joe-Joe squatted over his father’s bulky body, bouncing up and down on his massive cock, his head swaying side to side, his eyes closed in bliss. Stu knelt, sucking the boy’s tiny bald cock. Finally, Rex’s knot went down enough that the dog could pull out of my hole, and I collapsed on the mattress, stretching out my legs in blessed relief.
My relief was short-lived. I felt a heavy, soft body straddle mine, and a not-so-large cock prod at my gaping, oozing hole. Stu thrust hard for some time, his body warm and weighty on mine, before he began to pant and climaxed in me.
No sooner had he stood up, than Butch took his place, his huge cock prodding places inside me that had not been touched in the last hour. It was really too much, but I lay there and took it, trying to relax my gut and control the spasms that shook my rectum, my body’s fruitless attempt to expel the intruder. But Butch powered through, thrusting harder whenever my gut tried to push him out. I could feel wetness spurting from my hole with his every thrust.
Finally . . . FINALLY . . . our massive host climaxed, deposited his semen deep inside me, and pulled out. I think by this point I was sobbing from the sheer intensity of it all.
Then I felt fingertips prying my hole open, and a boy’s hand pushing inside me . . . pushing in deep before I could do anything to stop him . . . and I lay on the mattress and wept in earnest, even as I arched my back and presented my butt for my very first fistfucking.
I woke late the next morning, grateful that it was a Monday, though mindful that I had to celebrate a weekday Mass in less than an hour.
I felt terrible . . . queasy, with a headache . . . my mouth dry . . . my body sore . . . parts of my body extremely sore . . . my butthole the sorest part of all.
The image in the bathroom mirror was no better . . . dark circles under my bloodshot eyes . . . crusty bits stuck in my matted hair . . . scratches on my torso from the dog’s claws!
I was never doing anything like that again. I must confess my sin, and never repeat it, and trust in God to forgive me.
I looked at the scratches and thought of the dog . . . the dog on top of the boy . . . the boy himself . . . the boy with his own father . . . and I was filled with shame. I thought of Butch's huge cock stretching my hole . . . the heat of the dog on top of me . . . the boy's fist churning my insides . . . the boy squealing beneath me as I thrust uncontrollably into him, filling him with my semen . . .
My cheeks grew hot. I saw them redden in the mirror till I was blushing scarlet.
And I saw my cock fill with blood . . . stand straight up . . . stiff as a red-hot poker.
I knew I must confess my sin . . . and I knew I would repeat it.