Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS14930.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 9.5 KB | 144 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
BIBLEBOY
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


There's something about the outdoors the brings out the God damn spirit in a
boy.  And I like'm with the fear of God and lots of the spirit in'm.  Like to
see how far they'd lower themselves and crawl like an animal and drop in their
tracks and take me like a man.  I remember my bibleboy. He was young, late
teens, barefoot  and wearing hand-me-down overalls, bare chested, a mop of
coal black hair down to his shoulders.  He was always carried a big black
bible under his arms, ready to preach the word, convict us hell bound sinners
and win us for Jesus. Till he met me.  First time he saw me, couldn't take his
big blue eyes off me, stared at me constantly.  Especially at my crotch.
Couldn't blame 'm though.  I wore my overalls tight, my cock lay down my right
pantleg, like a young sapling.  He'd seem to be always near by, sitting on a
tree stump and leaning up against a tall timber, bulging eyes, tongue hanging
out, getting the best view of my cock flexing when it got hard.  I put on a
good cock tease for my bibleboy. I wanted to let him drink his fill, eat me
with his bugged-eyes, until he'd start panting like a bitch-dog in heat, and
drop his bible on log nearby, and come after me.  When it was time for lunch,
he'd follow, and I'd find a quiet, isolated spot, a clearing carpeted with
pine needles where we'd have lots of room to rut. He was always shy. I was
bold as hell; with guts.  I wasted no time, no need to talk or ask questions.
I'd pull the overall straps down his broad shoulders and let'm fall around his
feet.  He'd step out of his pants, naked and hard, and when I grabbed his cock
and fisted his pecker, he'd be so embarrassed, he'd turn red, his fingers
shaking as he fumbled to get my pants off and hold my wammer in his hand.  He
knew what he wanted, and so did I.  I'd push him down on all fours, knees
spread by my boots against his legs, his ass tilted nice and high, like he was
kneeling as in prayer.  God, he was hot.  All fuzzy haired around his pucker,
ring stained with brown shit, but smooth and wet with nervous sweat.  I'd feed
him a couple fingers, holding his head back by his long black hair, rummaging
in his throat, feeling up his tongue. The boy got his tongue out to lap at my
lube fingers.  Man, oh man!  " Lube'm good baby," I coaxed and he'd just
gurgle and smile and slather all over my pinkies.  By then, he'd have dug
himself a little rut in the pine needles.  Boy could never keep any nails on
his fingers.  Always rooting in the ground.  At least he was when I was having
him.  Talk about finger lick'n good!  The kid had a bottomless throat.  He
sucked fingers like he was sucking his mama's tits. I love to see the snoot
shoot out a guys nose.  But not this boy.  He inhaled it all, every fucking
spitlet. I'd leave him licking his face and move around behind him. He'd swear
and curse me to hell, knowing well his asshole was heading for the same place.
" Moon me, boy," I'd taunt him, and watch him wag his tail, grunt and groan as
he arched his back and pulsed his pucker out.  His insides were a rose pink,
ringed by brown kid-shit, in the middle of a hairy gulch. I'd swing my legs
over him so I was facing his feet, and start playing between those
wide-splayed buns, digging my fingers to the knuckle in the pink-rubber ring
of muscle, pounding and kneading his double-bubbles until a flash flood of
shit began flowing from his spasming shit-chute, down that canyon ass-crack,
along his balls and puddling on the pine needles.  Then I'd frig him good,
pushing my thumb and all that hair into the opening until it looked like a
sinkhole.  God, he had a hot hole!  Made for cock.  Educated for cock. A snug
and elastic pussy-boy.  The kid would be growling and snarling like a bitch
dog by now, growling on my fingers like they were chicken bones and he was
trying to strip the meat off.  I'd make him wait. I wanted him even hotter.
He had to be, considering what I was going to put into him.  I'd stroke his
flanks to a froth, let him hop around a bit, tearing grooves in the forest
with his knees, humping his ass and bellowing, completely out of his fucking
mind with craving. I loved to watch him heat up for it. I'd wait for him to
glow red in the face, his pleading eyes wet with tears, yet not speaking words
- none were needed. I knew he'd cum on the first punch to his guts. I wanted
him to. It was important to me. To blow a guy out with one hard entry, then
fuck him back up. It was absolute control over a kid's body and it's
functions, make him perform like a trick bitch, insane with lust.
Jean-Claude, the axe man - that was me.  I could fell the mightiest trees,
drive it into the dust. Pussy boys were no match for that, and I loved to
prove it over and over again.  The boy would start to fart every time one of
his knees was yanked up off the ground, emptying his bowels even more,
collapsing his tunnel, paving the way with natures lube. I rode his thighs
backwards, dipping my dick into the dripping crack, making him wail and buck
furiously. I was about ready to plow a deep trough between his flailing legs
and cram it full of hot beef, dig a hole , crawl into it, and lose myself.  I
gave him three fingers to the limit, goosing him loose.  His body heaved.  His
hole went lose, and I curled my thumb and little finger in and let him make a
grab for the elbow, drawing back as he rose high for it, denying him.  He
screamed with rage and pain, pulled away and popped me free, kicking his
heels, then squatted close to the ground to empty his shit-chute of one long
solid turd. "Good boy." I patted his quivering rump and watched him cock it
for me, rolling his big globes up onto the bones.  He looked obscene and wide
open, a wild bitch in heat. I loved it! The boy's hole spewed small globs of
rectal mucous, nature's lube.  I could smell him now, lathered and ready for
breeding.  I checked his eggs and saw they had risen out of sight, absorbed by
his crotch.  His rigid little hard-on hugged his belly, hiding.  His face was
buried in the dirt. He was all pussy now, him body existing only for me to
enter and claim.  He needed me!  I pressed my cock-head against the open sink
hole and nudged it in, and he did the rest. He sucked me inside, his guts
squeezing and vacuuming my cock-head till I sank forward, caught off guarded
by the power of his asshole.  I pulled back and located his prostate with the
head of my cock and rammed it hard to start the flow of juzm from his cock,
that would continue in a steady trickle while we fucked, and leave a winding
trail of scum on the ground.  My meat-mallet charged on, burrowing into the
kid's bowels, lifting his legs off the ground and bringing them down a foot
forward, spread much further into the split I preferred. I heard him grunt
like an angry pig and I knew he was cumming.  His colon squeezing the starch
out of my pipe. I stayed holstered and enjoyed the ride.  The boy had his chin
pressed down to his chest and was shooting sperm onto his lolling tongue,
spooning fat gobs of the goo into his open mouth. He turned to the side to let
me see his slime-drenched face.  His eyes rolled back into his head as ripples
of estasy convulsed his fragile frame. I slid my knees up his jolted flanks
and dug into him, jamming myself deeper, forcing his legs into a straight
split. He rose up on his hands, threw back his head and howled into the
tree-tops.  We began to fuck. "Oh my God ! " the kid chanted between clenched
teeth, as I blistered his butt. He held his legs straight out to the sides in
a gasping split, the inside edges of his feet supporting his lower body. I
hammered away at him and we crossed the clearing in record time. He found
something to put between his teeth before he bit his tongue off.  I grabbed
his tits and dragged him to the dirt, hanging onto the thick nubs until his
chest sagged like a cow's udders. I twisted them counterclockwise and he began
to pivot, holding his split.  I tore into his innards. Every time the boy
tried to buck away from me, I skewered him so deep he fell forward, snorting
lusty and splintering the stick he had in his mouth.  Then I'd stop and let
him hump like crazy, rocking up and down on me in a full tilt rut, sopping up
my meat with great heaving rolls of ass.  The spit this boy could hold! Sweet
mother of mercy! Molding those buns around me, squeezing, narrowing his pelvis
like a clamp.  His ass was a cock-ring, tight to the limit. I scrambled up
onto my feet in a low crouch, withdrew to the head and stove-up into the boy's
tight, hot asshole so hard that his legs closed and he shot up into the air
like a rocket.  We both started to cum, sinking slowly to the ground, our
bodies spasming and seizure, flopping around on the ground like we were
drawing our last breaths, until we were spent, drained, out of it!  WHEW!
Well, he'd start with the prayers and supplication to God after that, weeping
and wailing and gnashing of teeth, crying like a baby, pounding the ground,
swearing oats at me and at God.  I'd just get dressed and get back to work.
Wouldn't see him for a couple days after that. But he'd come back, again and
again and again.












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