The Colonel Ch. 02

“Make me hard again, Bitch.” I sank to my knees once more, and he grabbed my hair in one hand and wiped his cockhead over my face with the other, smearing me with pre-cum. I opened my mouth and tried to suck him in, but he sneered, “Look at you. You’re a big, cock-hungry slut now. You want to swallow another load don’t you?” and he pulled his hardened cock away. “Turn around.”

Still on my knees, I shuffled around in an About-Face. He shoved me, and I fell to all fours. He pulled my ass toward him and gripped the back of my neck, pushing until my face pressed against the damp wooden floor. Ohmigod, no!! He’s going to fuck me, the ultimate humiliation! How will I ever get over this?? He spit in his hand, and I trembled. Oh God, he’s slicking his cock! Sure enough, the big, bulbous head pressed against my a-hole, and with hands on both my hips, he slowly forced his manhood into me.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph! HELP! Overwhelming sensations! — pain of penetration, fear my guts would be torn open, a case of major regret … and the fullness, the hugeness, the wondrous, terrible majesty of him as he pressed himself into me. In spite of the pain, my heart beat fast as the gigantic spear spread me, opened me, liberated me into a new existence—and finally his balls bumped against mine. He was in. I was fucked. I can never go back from this. I am … no longer a virgin. He took my cherry!

And the pain was titanic. I almost passed out.

The master fucker knew what he was doing, though. He paused for a long time as my asshole and tortured tunnel gradually accustomed to the giant invader. He wanted me to love it, the bastard, and not exactly against my will, I slowly began to relax, and again he knew and began to pump his meat slowly in and out. The pain lessened, and I was amazed. My god, it really DOES feel good to get fucked! Who knew?? The pleasure increased to the point that I not only enjoyed it, I craved it. Nothing had ever been in my ass before except a doctor checking my prostate, so I had no idea fucking could feel so good. With each thrust of his cock, my own twitched with a wonderful pleasure. I was dizzy, lightheaded.

I had never been so humiliated, but physically never felt so good. Gradually I began to meet his thrusts, and he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. “You like that, don’t you bitch? Found your proper rank, haven’t you?”

What? He knows I’m military? Goddamn, when he finishes fucking me, I’m going to court martial this smart-ass! But the thrusts continued in that gentle rhythm, shortening his strokes until his cock, buried deep in my ass, moved only about two inches in and out—but those two inches hit right where I needed it most. God, what a pro! He’s playing me like a cello!

I was right on the edge of no return, surfing toward a blazing sunset on the delicious, sensual wave of his manhood—as it taught me about mine. His husky breathing told me he was close, too. “Tell me what you want, Bitch. You like fucking now? ”

I was so close to cumming, I couldn’t stop myself, “Oh God, yes—I love it—don’t stop,” I croaked. “Fuck me! Fuck my ass! Do it!” Jesus Christ, man, get a grip on yourself! You’re a Special Forces officer!!

“Yeah,” he crowed, “beg me for it,” and his hips picked up the pace, thrusting deep, mighty lunges. Raped by a man! And it feels better than any woman! He moved his hands to my hips, building up to a thrusting crescendo, jolting my whole body with every mighty slam. With a final ram (I swear he crammed it all the way up to the back of my throat), he let out a long, loud groan and unloaded his sperm deep inside me.

That did it. With a roaring in my ears, every muscle in my body flexed as hard as it could—and I came longer and harder than I ever had. My cum hit the floor, splattered up across my chest, and even hit my throat and chin. And I haven’t even touched myself!! Oh, God, the bastard’s driven me over the edge by fucking me! Floating on a cloud of bliss, I relaxed and slid forward, but he held onto my hips and kept me up while he pumped the last of his seed into me, breeding me, fertilizing me as his bitch.

Finally finished, he shoved me forward, and I collapsed face-down in a heap, my sweats around my ankles, his cum leaking out of my ass, lying in my own jism. I lay there trembling tuzla escort with the aftershocks of cumming, wondering what would happen next. When my heart finally stopped pounding and my breathing returned to normal, I pulled myself up and looked back, exhausted but—got to admit it—ready for anything else he wanted to do. But he was gone.

I sat there for a long time, the taste of his cum in my mouth, my ass burning from the fullness of his cock. Then I stood up, pulled up my sweatpants, and stumbled back to my car.

That haunted me for days. I had sucked the man’s cock, and he had fucked me in the ass. But gradually I came to think I could forget it. It was just a momentary dalliance. I wasn’t gay. I was a fucking Green Beret!

On a more serious note, there had been no witnesses. If the sonofabitch ever tried to blackmail me, I would turn the tables on him and court martial him on some trumped-up excuse. I was safe. Life would return to normal. I would make it normal again.

A week or so later, I pulled up to the house after a hard day’s work. My wife was gone—downtown shopping, probably. The house was empty. I figured my son Paul was down at the recreation building. He still lived at home, turned 22 a few months earlier, just finished college, and was about to enlist in the Army just like his old man. He was a big boy during his school years, and since then, preparing for Basic Training, he had started working out at the base gym.

Life was going just fine. I leaned back against the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee and smiled. My father would have been proud of me. He was a poor Utah sheepherder, never able to keep up with his bills. I had made it in the Army. I had risen to the top. When I retired, I would live comfortably for the rest of my life.

I thought about my wife. Fine woman. A good friend. Over the years our sex life had atrophied, though. It just wasn’t that fun any more. She didn’t seem to want it, and that was lucky—I could hardly get it up for her. But we were comfortable together.

Then I thought about the man in the latrine. Damn, what an experience. I hadn’t been that horny in years! I thought my libido had dried up. But with a man!! I took a gulp of coffee. I had to admit it. He turned me on like Karen hadn’t in many years. And the feel of his cock in my ass! Is that what a woman feels? I took a deep breath. It’s wonderful.

I was just taking another drink of coffee when I heard the door open, and Paul walked in with a big companion. God in Heaven, the guy! He was wearing the same Army PT uniform—white tee shirt and black boxer shorts. Oh, Jesus, he must’ve met Paul at the rec center! My mind went 1,000 miles an hour, but I couldn’t stop myself from adding, He’s still a handsome stud. Still got those bright blue eyes. “Hi, Dad,” Paul said. “This is Private Dovis.”

Finally, the name and rank: Private Dovis.

And now he knew I was a lieutenant colonel–if Paul hadn’t told him, my name and rank were on the name-plate by the door. Dovis smiled, and his whole face lit up. “Hello, sir, I’ve been showing Paul the Army callisthenic routines.” Not the slightest sign of recognition. Oh, shit, maybe I’m lucky. Maybe he doesn’t remember me. I smiled back. Paul said they were going to his room to watch some football videos.

When they were gone, I was trembling so much, I had to put down the coffee cup. My head was spinning, and worse, a hardon nudged against the inside of my boxers. Not knowing what else to do, I puttered in the kitchen, trying to make myself a sandwich, nervous as a cat. Karen never did this to me.

About a half-hour later, I heard a yell from Paul’s room. I listened, but then everything was silent. A few minutes later I heard it again. I got up and went to investigate. The door was closed; I stood listening.

I heard muffled sounds. A loud groan. A sigh. Instantly I was back in the latrine. The man let out a loud groan as his boiling elixir gushed up into me, and in fucking heaven as I discovered his cock could drive me to orgasm, I sighed. Same sounds.

I knocked on the door. “Paul? Everything okay in there?”

Paul answered in a raspy voice that everything was fine. Not sure, I turned to leave, but I heard another groan … and a loud grunt. What in göztepe escort hell is going on??

I grabbed the doorknob and opened the door—and gulped at the sight. Private Dovis was completely naked, standing behind an equally nude Paul, and Dovis’s cock was buried deep in Paul’s ass. Oh, God, just like he did to me!!

Dovis looked around at me with a smile, his huge cock pumping in and out of Paul, his muscular ass-cheeks dimpled and hard—and didn’t stop those piledriving hips. Outraged, I walked into the room. Paul didn’t see me: he was on his hands and knees, bent over, his ass raised in the air.

The sonofabitch bastard is fucking my son!! I was furious and about to start yelling when suddenly, incredibly, I found myself staring at Dovis’s cock (the biggest one I had ever seen), the cock that had tamed me a few days earlier. Paul’s bobbing head was facing down into the pillow. Only Dovis bored into me with those steely blue eyes—and again I was speechless. I just stood watching—hesitating again.

Do something! Dammit, DO something!! But I couldn’t take my eyes off Dovis’s long cock. God it was huge! I remembered the bliss of it plowing my ass, and as I watched it ramming my son, I yearned. My god, you stupid bastard, you’re jealous!

I licked my lips. Moisture surrounded the huge log as it sawed into Paul–Damn, it’s so fucking thick! How does it fit in that little hole?? My son’s asshole was a huge ‘O’ around the giant cock, his asslips sinking in and pulling out as the big stud’s hips lunged forward and back. Did my asshole look like that? Dovis used long and steady strokes, his balls slapping Paul’s butt with every thrust. A slurping, squishing noise filled the room, and I smelled sex, the hot, smarmy, sweaty aroma of male arousal, the sweetish stench of a lubricated asshole, and the Cloroxy perfume of cum.

As much as I knew I should be outraged, I couldn’t stop watching. I know how that feels! I was breathing harder. Feeling that big thing deep in my guts again. Feeling that hot, sticky come up my ass once more. My cock rose in my pants, and Dovis sneered, knowing I couldn’t stop them. He nodded toward the bulge in my crotch. “You like what you see, don’t you, sir,” (it was not a question) and I looked down at the growing tent in my fatigues.

Paul raised his head and looked back. “Oh, God, Dad…” he gasped and tried to get up, but Dovis held him down, still kept thrusting in and out. My son looked young, hard, and athletic—taking it like a man. I was proud. I also admired the masterful prowess of the big stud fucking him. What a male!

“You’d like to have a hard cock in your ass, wouldn’t you—Sir Bitch?”

The bastard, how dare he ask me such a question with my son here?? But I was speechless. What could I say?

“Well, Bitch? Do you want to do it again?”

Thunder rumbled in my head, and I was dizzy. I mumbled something, I don’t know what, and stepped closer to the two of them. Dovis smiled, still lunging his cock in and out of Paul with a sucking, slurping sound. Paul looked back, his eyes round as saucers. “Nice bulge, Colonel,” Dovis said. “It looks like it needs some help. Take your pants down, Bitch,” he ordered, “and let me see your cock.”

Paul’s eyes grew even wider, and his mouth dropped open. I panicked inside, but I was helpless. I didn’t want to—I swear I fought with everything I had—but my hands dropped to my belt, unfastened it, and pulled open my fatigue pants. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my boxers, and with one motion I shucked them both down to my boot-tops. “God, Dad!” Paul hissed.

My dong stuck out like a steel pipe, throbbing, eager, drooling pre-cum in long, silvery strings. “Good,” Dovis murmured. “The Bitch has learned to obey. Now come here and feel my cock fucking your son’s ass.”

Don’t do this! What the fuck are you doing?? STOP!!—but I couldn’t stop! My hand reached out, gripped Dovis’s glorious manhood, and my fingers ringed around the pistoning shaft–or tried to. Sonofabitch! I was amazed every time. I couldn’t believe it. My fingers would not close around the huge dong. But they thrilled to all the bumps and serpentines of the veins around it, the huge tube underneath the shaft, and the great vein along the top. It was slimy from whatever üsküdar escort lube they were using, Paul’s inner juices, and from Dovis’s pre-cum. I wanted to lick it.

Dovis reached down and rubbed his hand over the bulge in my pants, testing my hardness. I couldn’t move: I was his. No, you’re not! Stop this! This is a goddamned kid, and he is fucking your son! You are a 50-year-old Army officer, a lieutenant colonel, for god’s sake, and this is an OUTRAGE!

But I couldn’t do a thing. I was breathless. Dovis was the only man who ever touched me there … and I loved his touch. It was familiar, pleasurable, welcome. I was a dog petted by its owner. Paul stared over his shoulder at me, astonished—his father was submitting.

Yes, my dong throbbed, and I had slipped again under Dovis’s control. No, I’m not! I’m not under his control! But something about his sweating body and that commanding dong, plowing my son in and out, overran any hesitations. I wanted to get naked with them.

Paul’s face was a mask of astonishment. “Dad,” he hissed, “Dad, what are you doing??” His father, his own father was overpowered by Dovis’s sexuality (just as Paul himself had been), and his own father was letting a complete stranger grope his crotch. And his father’s fingers were ringing, gripping, sliding along the cock that fucked his own son.

I was too far gone. I groaned at Dovis’s touch, so sensual and soft but yet so manly. I had long passed the point of no return. While both men looked at me, I pulled open my fatigue blouse and threw it to the floor, gripped both sides of my tee shirt and yanked it over my head, then sat back into the bedroom chair and feverishly loosened my boots and kicked them off. Stepping out of my pants and underwear, I stood up and moved back to Dovis, wearing nothing but my socks, and I spread my legs to let him run his hand under my balls again. He cupped them and squeezed them lightly before coming back to my cock.

“You’re pretty big, Sir Bitch,” Dovis said, smiling. I glowed at the compliment, but my eyes were still glued to the majestic shaft sliding in and out of my son. I reached out to circle it again as best I could with my fingers, and as I did, Dovis reached under and ran his finger up my crack. Oh, yeah, yeah! He found my hole and pressed against it, and I gritted my teeth in pleasure. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said, smiling. “Fucking the son and then his father.”

“Dad,” Paul squeaked, “you … you going to let him fuck you??…”

Oh, my God, I suddenly realized, it’s true! He’s going to fuck me right in front of my son!” Dovis had complete control of Paul—his big cock owned Paul. But you are already his property, his bitch. I hoped somehow to keep that secret from Paul, but Dovis growled, “Tell him.”

I said nothing.

“I said tell him,” Dovis growled, and he pulled himself out of Paul with a slurping, sucking sound.

I looked down at Paul and muttered, “He’s already fucked me.” Paul stared. I looked back at Dovis’s hard cock, sticking straight out at me, all wet and slimy.

“Now wrap your lips around this again and feel what’s going to be in your ass in a few minutes,” he said. Like a slave, I dropped to my knees. Paul gasped, rolled over, and stared down at me. I opened my mouth and reached out to wrap my fist—almost—around Dovis’s cock, pulling it toward me, my head spinning. Didn’t realize he had a foreskin when I sucked him in the latrine (he had pulled it back before grabbing me). As I pulled him toward my face, the sexy hood slid over the head.

My mouth in a gigantic ‘O’, I moved his big dong between my jaws, and with my tongue, I stripped back that exotic, sinuous foreskin. Yeah! A big cock in my mouth! I couldn’t deny it. I want to go all the way—I want him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me again! I closed my eyes, enjoying a vision of Dovis mounting me. Mounting me like a bitch crouching before him. Mounting me, his cock-hungry slave and fucking me with long, hard thrusts. This man had fucked me before. And I wanted it again.

A drunken cocksucker, I raised my eyes to Dovis’s, and his blue eyes cut into me like laser beams. The man could turn me into a human forest fire. Dovis sneered, pulled out his cock, and lifted me to my feet.

Before I knew it, his lips were pressed against mine, and instantly I pressed my mouth back against his, opening my lips, snaking out my tongue to sword-fight with his. I couldn’t hold back a groan of total manly pleasure.

“Dad!” Paul hissed, “Jesus Christ, Dad!”

TO BE CONTINUED