August Ames

Subject: YOU KNOW HE’S SUB, DON’T YOU? – PART TWENTY +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ THE USUAL WARNINGS APPLY TO THIS TALE. PLEASE CONTACT bit IF YOU LIKE TO PRAISE OR MOAN. SEARCH NIFTY FOR bit or link TO READ MORE ^sharp TALES. REMEMBER TO MAKE YOUR DONATION TO WWW.NIFTY.ORG !! HERE fty/donate.html +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ YOU KNOW HE’S SUB, DON’T YOU? – PART TWENTY You’d know you’re sub wouldn’t you when the guy who fucked your arse twice last night wants to fuck your face next morning with the same shitty cock? And I mean, I would! I would have if he hadn’t stopped. I mean, I think he just simply forgot. I only just drifted off, it felt like, but the light was growing in the room when he grabbed my head and pushed me down to where his penis was hard and throbbing again, and still moist, with it’s tight fragile foreskin pulled back already halfway down the shaft. I think I wasn’t thinking, cause I also I didn’t care cause it was his dick and he was the guy who was fucking me, he was my man, so I sort of wanted it too, like also I would do whatever he wanted. Also I was mainly thinking how big it was and could I get it in my neck? and I knew I could, so I wasn’t worried. But it was pretty gross when I came to it … “Are you ok?” he said, pressing my head into his pubes – the smell was pretty gross – so that his shaft was caressing my cheek and making it wet and sticky. I sort of said, you know, like, “There’s like shit all over it.” “Your shit,” he said calmly. “But you know it’s still, you know … shit.” So he let me adjust my face so that I was slightly lower down; my lips were touching the root of his prick where it disappeared into his sack – but that’s where it was messiest because … well it was. Think about it. But when I started to retch, he laughed and stopped pushing on my head and I clambered back up to his face and I was about to kiss him without thinking, at which he said, “Hey! Hey! Get a wash!” So I slid from under the covers and hopped off to the shower, smelling of myself. It was pretty strong. He was watching as I left. I turned at the door and saw him looking at me. “Wha-at?” “You’re pretty good looking,” he said appreciatively. “Am I?” I stood by the door, swinging my hips like a fairy. “Not bad. You’re pretty good. Nice arse. Looks good in shorts. And the way it sort of sticks out. I like the way it sort of …” “What?” “Sort of invites …” He grinned. “What?” “Sort of invites like, Fuck me!” “Does it?” I did a half turn and my prick bounced coquettishly. “Yeah. It does.” He rolled off the bed and followed me into the bathroom, and as I pushed the water on he came into the shower as well – I mean he entered the cubicle with me and I washed him, like washing the paint off a statue. His cock swung out like a cantilever, the foreskin only half covered the end as I washed my shit off it, and his pulse made it throb in my hand. “You never wear a jockstrap Erzincan Escort do you?” I said, thinking about having a cock that big. “Freeballing is my way,” he grinned. “Yeah but don’t you find it embarrassing, like if you get an erection … in public?” “Yeah I know what you mean.” He flicked his dick with his fingertips. “It does get in the way. It’s the price I pay.” “For having such a big dick.” “Yeah.” “I don’t have that problem.” “No you don’t.” “I mean, I do sometimes. Some times I get a stiffie and it’s embarrassing. Yeah? And sometimes I have to have my hand over it so that people don’t see. See.” “Yeah?” He sounded unconvinced, or at least unconcerned. “I do and I don’t. It depends. I don’t want people to think I’m gay, but if they look at my cock and think it’s a big cock, or a big hard cock, I’m ok. I mean, why should I bother? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I hesitated. “Is it?” he asked. “No-oo. Not at all,” I said. I liked that everybody knew that he was well hung. I just wished they could know he was fucking me with it, cause if they knew he was fucking me with it, and like I was owned by this well hung hunk, I thought, it was like it was me they was looking at, like my hunk, like he was my hunk, cause he was in me with his cock and he was fucking me with it and owning me with it and sperming up inside me like … I mean, assuming he carried on fucking me. Which I hoped he would. “Sounds like fucking me?” I said. “I like fucking you,” he said. “Do you like me fucking you?” “Yeah,” I grinned, pouring water over his face and kissing him like we were standing in a waterfall. “Even though I’m so big? Does it still hurt?” “Yes,” I said. “But it’s ok. Cause you like it.” “You like it.” I smiled. “Yeah. I do.” “That’s good cause I like it and I’m going to be fucking you a lot from now on.” That was so hot. “Do you want that?” I wanted that so much. “Yeah,” I said, putting shampoo on his chest and smoothing it down so that it lubricated his junk and I could slip my hands around it and let it slip through my fingers like an escaping animal which I caught and let it slip again through. Gradually he got hard and I put it between my legs so I could feel it there, in all the suds, and we kissed and it got quite passionate until I thought he was about to fuck me there and then – but fucking in the shower is awkward, so we towelled off and he threw me on the bed and lubed us up and fucked me there. Except I was still shitty so we’d have to shower again. “I fucking like you,” he said, holding my ankles and jabbing me like he was a mountain god and I was his sacrifice. Then he let go of my legs and fell.forward so that his face was buried in my neck and he was kissing me whilst fucking his hips against it so that his balls slammed into my arse and the slap slap slap of him fucking me, moaning into my neck where he was like fastened like some kind of pig what had found a truffle buried inside my Erzincan Escort Bayan jaw somewhere. Something made him not look me in the eye, stopped him checking I was alright, stopped him taking note of if I was excited or hurting. He humped me like I was a lump of dead meat and dug his fingers into my arms like all he wanted was for me to stay still while he forced yet another rush of Japs from so deep inside his pelvis that they had to be dynamited out. A landmine explosion into my gut. Then he was lying on top of me like he was dead, for a while, or fighting for life as his breathing and heart rate died down. Afterwards, in the shower where we had to go through the whole cleanup routine all over again, I noticed that my testicles hurt so I told him, like to ask if he thought that was ok, or was it cancer? In his enthusiasm he had bruised my testicles, by hitting them everytime he went. “Oh … so they hurt?” he said. “Yes … but in a good way.” “I might have bruised them,” he said with a smirk. Actually it was agony in my balls and though I kept shifting them about … cause nothing I did made it less and it went away only gradually. I mean, I liked being fucked hard like his dumb bitch, I liked being his dumb bitch and letting him hammer me like that, though he didn’t give me much choice, but afterwards it hurt, you know. It really hurt. I don’t think he knew what it felt like to be fucked so hard. He knew what it felt like to fuck someone as hard as he could and get as much pleasure as he could and pump his sperm as deep into another guy’s stomach as he could, but he had no idea what it felt like to be railed and wasted and to have his testicles crushed repeatedly by another man’s pubic bone! He had no idea. But I could see that it made him proud that he had done me so completely that I wasn’t sure whether to beg for mercy, or beg for more! And when I kissed him afterwards it was like a prayer, you know, like Madonna, like, Please fuck me again. Please. Please fuck me again. I want you to fuck me so that I literally cannot stand on my own two feet and I need to be carried like an invalid or, like, helped to walk, and pumped so hard that my own cum just came squirting out and on my stomach because he was literally pumping it out of me and I didn’t cum but I just, you know, came, like I couldn’t stop it. He kissed my lips gently. “Don’t hurt,” he said, and then he looked at my balls and said, as though he was talking to them, “Don’t hurt little balls!” And then he looked at my face. And smiled. And then he looked at my neck. And winced. “Ooich, I think that’s …” “That’s what?” I didn’t know. “I think that’s a bite there, and, there, and, ooich.” He smiled, touching my throat in three places. “What is it?” “Love bites sorry. I got a bit carried away. It’s …” “What is it?” “Take a look.” “How?” “In the mirror, crazy!” I knelt up and looked in the mirror where I usually do my hair. Escort Erzincan My neck was fucking covered in purple marks like I’d been pinched or something, or bitten. “Oh,” I said. “What is that? When did it happen?” “Just now. I bit your neck.” “You bit my neck? Why’d you do that? Is that …” “When I was fucking you. It’s a love bite. It’s what people do.” “Why for fucks sake?” “It’s … passion,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Passion? You bit my neck and left marks? What to do about that cause people will see!” “Hide it. Wear a big neck sweater!” “How can I do that?” “Hide it. I dunno. You’ll think of something.” “Do you want everyone to know?” “They’ll only know if you tell’em.” “If? What can I say instead?” He laughed. “Say you got caught in a curtain!” That was fucking ridiculous. “People will ask.” “Let them.” “Come off it! The gang. They’ll want to know who did it.” “Say it was Jake.” “Come off it! He’ll deny it. And it’d mean …” “Mean what?” “He’s gay.” “Well isn’t he?” “No. He’s not. And anyway, I mean, he’d fucking deny it, wouldn’t he?” “Not if … Look. Ok. Don’t say anything. Just don’t let them see. Is it that difficult?” He thought it was funny. He stood behind me and put his arms round my waist and tickled my balls. “Still hurt where I squashed them?’ We looked like a classic gay boy-boy-boyfriends look-at-us-we’re-so-cute-and-so-much-in-love portrait couple-selfie. I sighed. “Is it bad?” I said trying to see the necklace without being distracted. “It’s just what you can see.” “Yeah, but how bad is that?” “Bad. You might have to say you had sex with someone.” “I did! You!” “Not me. Someone else. Someone you met. Some guy you met on Grindr.” “I’ve never done that.” “Haven’t you?” “No!!” “Hehe, you’re so inexperienced.” “I know.” “Why haven’t you tried to meet people?” “I’m going to get a sweater like Steve Jobs and say it’s my new look.” “Have you got one?” “No.” He held me tight like that and sort of walked me out of the bathroom and back to the bed, like a life-size doll, or a human body in a coma, but kissing my shoulder. “Yeah. But seriously,” he said, “there’s tons of gays out there. Why hang around with those clowns?” “They’re my friends!” “Ok. But why not find gays? Gay friends? Gay boys? They’re everywhere, trust me. Why haven’t you?” I suddenly changed and thought about the big wide world and why wasn’t I was out there in it making waves like everybody else? “Because I’m scared!” I moaned, getting back into be. He lay down next to me and I put my head on his chest, holding his chest with my arm so that his arm went around me and stroked my head. And all at once for no reason, I was crying. But I didn’t want him to see. But I did want him to see cause I was pissed off!. “You fucking bit my neck! Now what?” “Love bites for a reason,” he coo’ed. He pushed my hand down so I would hold his cock. Which I wasn’t sure if it was comforting or not. It wasn’t hard but it was still really long and fat and I stroked it and squeezed it which I could see he really liked from his eyes and it getting stuff. “You like my cock don’t you,” he said. “Yes. I like your cock, Po.” “Yeah … but you’d like any cock.” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ END OF YOU KNOW HE’S SUB, DON’T YOU? – PART TWENTY

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