"I found Jesus," we reply, "Jesus in the apparition of homosexual pornography."
"Really," Cliona says, "my friend, Michael, you know him, Michael Williams, our neighbo(u)r, he's just published a book, Alex laid bare, ahem."
Here are a few excerpts (the name is sheer coincidence, Michael's Alex is not related to our Alex, not even by identity):
His mouth was on mine before I could finish the sentence. Moments late I lay on the bed and his fingers were preparing me for the penetration I now ached to experience. "This will hurt a bit at first," he warned me, his voice husky.
He was right. I was simply not ready for the searing agony of his first thrust, slow though it was. "No, get it out," I yelled.
-"No, get used to it," he yelled back.
He rammed his cock inside me a few times more. The pain lessened just a little. He thrust again. A shiver of pleasure burst through the waves of residual agony. Now I really wanted him. I spammed my cheeks against his belly, felt him penetrate even deeper than before, felt myself open inside to receive is engorged prick, hard and unyielding.
|"I was completely immersed in the experience."|
"Fuck me, fuck me harder," I heard someone scream. In the mirror on the wall behind the bed I could see smooth, nicely-rounded buttocks rising and falling as a huge cock thrust violently downwards, disappearing from view before re-emerging, inch after inch, so much of it, before it hammered down once more. I was completely immersed in the experience, my body sensitized to every touch of his flesh against mine, my own cock stabbing the pillow beneath me, an unmistakable explosive heat rising in my balls, surging like a current through my groin, fusing with the sensation of energy imparted by those savage strokes that throbbed deep inside me.
"I'm coming," he cried, "I can't stop it, oh, oh, oh, yeah."
"Don't stop," I begged, as the sensation electrified my whole being, "don't stop, aah," as waves of sperm gushed from my cock in harmony with the thrusts from above. Our bodies continued their rhythmic pulsation for a minute or so longer before we stopped, both breathing hard, his lips pressed against the nape of my neck, my senses drowning in the glorious pressure of his body upon mine and the glorious sense of sexual release strangely enhance by the fulfillment of his cock, still hard and alive deep inside. He rolled us over. We lay clamped together in his arms.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
-"Very nicely, thank you." I giggled at the contrast between the vocabulary of the aftermath and that of the rampant lust that had immediately preceded it.
-"Boy, you were just born to be fucked, you know," Alex confided, "and the good news is, I was born to fuck."
(Click here for the next installment)
From: Michael Williams, Alex laid bare, Lulu Publications, Morrisville NC, 2006, p. 99.