Pimped to the Sailor Boys

"Take it in yourself," he commanded.

And then slowly, almost magically, me gasping, I leveraged the heels of my feet on the edge of the foot of the bed and slowly, relentlessly made the pillar of power and strengthen follow its bulbous head and disappear inside me, me arching my back, trying to stretch to accommodate him and involuntarily giving him deep moans and groans of being stuffed. Stretching. Stretcccchiing. He stopped me half in, listening to me panting and moaning and giving me time to stretch, and then, with a grin and a "Here it comes," he buried the shaft several more inches, deeper than he went the first time--much deeper--and I jerked and gasped and involuntarily screamed. My eyes bugged out, my mouth went slack, open in surrender, voicing my plaintive, "Oh, shit. Oh, fuck."

He pulled it back and then thrust it, hard and deep, again--and then again. The headboard of the bed rapped against the wall. Again... and again. I yelped. And then again... deeper... and again, deeper yet. The rhythm of the headboard grating against the wall started anew and picked up cadence. I reached around him, grasped his plump buttocks, and moved with him in the fuck.

No, no; yes, yes, y-e-s. It's too big; it's the size I've always dreamed of. It's splitting me; it's stretching and filling me to perfection. I can't take this; I can't get enough of this.

"Yesssssss! Do it. Sink to the root. Fuck me!" I cried out.

He sank to the root and started to vigorously piston in and out, in and out. Bump, bump, bump, bumpbumpbumpBUMP!

Huffing and gasping, I put my hips into motion, going with him. We're FUCKING! We were fucking AGAIN! He wanted me again. I am his and he is mine. His big hands grasped and spread my butt cheeks, holding me to him, opening me to the deepest penetration, as I groaned and moaned, panted and took all of him. BUMPBUMPBUMP!

He brought his mouth down to my nipples as he plowed me, sucking and biting me there. I imagined I could feel the veins sliding against my passage walls as the cock journeyed in to the quick of me. No man had been there before, not this deep, not in my spongy core. The cadence was changing, slowing down, moving toward ejaculation. He was standing up from me and repeatedly pulling his glistening jet-black cock out slowly to where I could again see the rim of the purple-black cap, and glided it back in to the root until he lost control and started pumping me wildly.

"Gonna come," he croaked in a tortured voice. I didn't need to be told that.

The headboard thumped hard against the wall. Bed springs squealing. Showing that he was panting for me--at the height of his passion, dipping his mouth to mine and brutalizing my lips with his. His hands grabbing my hips, moving my pelvis with his thrusts. He cried out.

Then the ultimate sexual connection. He pulled out of me, ripped the condom off, and thrust inside me again, raw and unprotected--total risk and commitment to the fuck.

"Hot damn, here it comes!"

I jerked and cried out at the creaming. He was breeding me. I gasped and jerked and received his seed, taking a flood of cum inside me, his jizm oozing out of me, bathing those black balls.

Thrusting in yet again. Bump. Bump. Bump. Another ejaculation inside me. Breeding me again.

All of that throbbing inside me, hard for me, wanting to be inside me, and filling me repeatedly--followed by my insides being creamed yet again with his cum and him holding for a few minutes, young, virile, powerful, quick loading.

I lay there after he'd withdrawn and risen from the bed. I Watched him go into the bathroom, pissing in the toilet with the door open, his eyes on me lying there, stretched out on the bed, arm dangling off the side, a position of total surrender, totally used. Watching him, and purring. Touching myself. Sliding my finger through the cum he had left there.

He was still erect. Incredibly virile. My dark chocolate black bull with the jet-black monster cock.

"I couldn't help it," he called out from the bathroom. "Just got carried away."

"Yes," I said. He took that as it being OK with me. I didn't disabuse him of that. I didn't know how I felt about that. I just knew that being breeded by the big black bull was heaven.

"When we do it again, we won't need--" he said.

"No, we won't," I agreed.

He was going to do it again.

He strutted out of the bathroom, mounted the bed, grasped and positioned me, on my knees, under him. He mounted me again, holding his cock in position, the unsheathed mushroom cap at the entrance. He looked down into my eyes, showing a saucy smile, and then he thrust hard and I gasped and jerked and clutched his buttocks cheeks. He did it all again, fucking me--raw--like a dog in heat.

And I was able to take it, each time more slippery than the last because of the accumulation and mingling of juices. He was close in behind and on top of me, covering my back, capable of going even deeper inside me, and then fucked me again, holding my wrists with his hands, dominating me, killing me, another glorious death.

Four months of cum being called forth and expended. Breeding, breeding, breeding.

Shit, the man could fuck forever. Is this what all black bulls can do? Mooaaan.

He shot off every fifteen minutes or so for what seems like forever--I climaxed repeatedly as well, encasing that jet-black hunk of power and being encased by that dark chocolate rippling network of perfect muscle. Taking it raw--full commitment.

FUCK ME HARD!! FUCK ME DEEP!! FUCK ME FOREVER!!

Roll me over... in the clover. Roll me over and fuck me again.

I was his for wherever, whenever, with whomever he wanted.

There was a knock on the door and then again, harder, more insistent. Time was up. I didn't think two hours had ever gone by so fast.

He rolled off the bed--Leo--that was his name. At last he told me, doing so to let me know this had been special for him, he said--not just for me--and he started picking his clothes off the floor.

"Nice lay, kid," he said. "Money well spent. God, I hope you're clean. It was worth the risk, though. Such a honey."

My world had been moved. I'd let him fuck me raw. But all he'd had was a good lay at a good price. Arnold was right when he told me the johns would tell me anything to get their dicks in me and would go cold when they'd gotten off--that all johns were liars in the heat of the fuck.

All I could do was lie there, on my back, legs open, hole gaping open, one arm dangling off the side of the bed, the other flung across my face... and moan.

I couldn't claim that this wasn't special for me. He was my first hung black bull, and I'd let him breed me.

* * * *

Filled, stretched, worked, panting, and moaning. Possessed by the cock moving inside me. Faster, deeper, straining to take it, the muscles of my passage walls alive, undulating over the thick, hard shaft. Shimmering over it, clutching and releasing it, caressing it, as holding me tight in a missionary position embrace, he moved deeper in my soft, spongy core. Possessing me, conquering me, slaying me. I surrendered, with a long sigh, relaxing, letting him in fully, becoming one with him as he thrust, thrust, thrust. The headboard bouncing off the wall again--but not as vigorously as it had with Leo. Still, it was good.

Arnold, my lover, my master, my pimp. Yes, I was a little slut for it.

It was good with Arnold after the sailor had left, Arnold directed me to clean the black sailor's scent off me, and, when I'd showered, dried off, and returned to the bed, he came up on the bed, stripping himself as he moved on top of me. My tenor and his baritone in harmony of grunts and groans as he slapped my legs open, declared, "Shit he opened you up," and fucked me to the accompaniment of the bouncing of the headboard against the wall and squealing of the rusty springs.

I lay there on my back, legs bent and splayed, pelvis jutted up, open to his penetration just as I had been to the black bull's--just as I would be to any man Arnold gave me to for money.

"Did you manage OK, Tyler?" he asked as he sat against the headboard beside me afterward, smoking his usual post-fuck cigarette.

"Yes, I managed, Arnold."

He stared down at the scattered split condom packets on the floor beside the bed. "You didn't let him bareback you, did you?"

"No, of course not," I lied. I had no idea what to do because he had. I'd just try to forget it away.

The cigarette finished, he snuffed the butt out on top of the nightstand where so many cigarettes had died before this one and had left their burn mark. Then he turned back to me, checking me over with his hands. Or at least I fancied he was checking me over to see if I was OK. I knew, though, that he was feeling me up, preparing me for him to have his second go at me, working me to work himself up. He was like that after the sailor from the bowling alley, pimping me but wanting to own me again afterward.

"Fuck, he reamed you open. I could drive a truck up there." He bunched up his fist and penetrated me to the knuckles. I tensed up and he told me to relax, but when I couldn't, he pulled his fist back. "Someday. Was he good?"

"Yes, he was good." More than good. He was magnificent. I had had no idea. I was done. I was fucked. I should have paid him he was so good to me.

"Was he better than me?"

"No one's better than you, Arnold." I'd have to learn to let the lie slide off my tongue like honey. Arnold was good, but he was no black bull Leo. That ship had sailed now. It would never be the same again. I'd be done at the docks all by myself now, looking for black bulls--looking for Leo again.

I raised and spread my legs as Arnold moved between my thighs and put himself in position. I clutched his buttocks, arched my back, and cried out "Oh, shit, Arnold!" as he thrust inside me again. Bump, bump, bump went the headboard on the motel room wall.

"I got another answer to the hookup Web site ad," he said, reclining afterward against the headboard, smoking another cigarette. "Tomorrow. Another sailor. A submariner. Off the USS Annapolis. Just arrived at Point Loma after six months at sea."

"OK."

"He'll be randy as hell. I can keep this room another day."

"Anything you want, Arnold." Fuck, I hoped he was another black bull.

"Up on your knees, sport. Time to take it like a dog."

"Anything you want, Arnold."