DAVID 145
DAVID THE COP — CHAPTER TWO
Although I couldn’t see his eyes, I could make out a perpetual sneer. I knew he was thinking, “Choke on it.” And I was. Tears came to my eyes as he rammed it all the way to the back of my throat. The more I gagged, the more he pushed. When I would let out a muffled cry, he would pull out and let me breathe for a few seconds, but he’d always let his huge staff rest against my lips. Its weight and mass were never lost on me. And then he’d shove it in my mouth again. I loved sucking on it. And there were a few times when I could tell that I had him. I’d swirl my tongue around the head, over and over again, and he’d tense up, try to take the mind-rending sensations, and then he’d pull out, gasping for breath. Finally, he took my head in his huge hands, and shoved his dick all the way in until it rammed against the back of my throat. I gagged. Tears came to my eyes again. But he wouldn’t let my head go. He just held me there. I struggled for breath. I cried out. He wouldn’t let me go. He wouldn’t let me breathe. I looked up at him, my heart pounding and my lungs straining, and I saw that he was loving every second of my agony. And as I moaned and panicked, my throat opened, and he slid his meat down my throat, held it there for a second as though to show me what I could do, and then pulled all the way out.
I coughed and gasped, and he let me pant and catch my breath, and then he took his rigid pole in one hand and smacked me in the mouth with it. I was shocked at the weight and firmness of it, and in my surprise, my mouth opened and he shoved it in, all the way in, until it battered my tonsils and I choked on it. With my head in an iron grip, he tilted his hips forward and pressed his entire cock onto the back of my throat until I spasmed helplessly and then my throat opened again, and he rammed it all the way in, to the hilt. He tilted his head back and sighed, and then he raped my throat for a few seconds, grinding his hips against my chin, rubbing his bull balls against my neck, before he pulled out to let me breath.
Again and again, he’d shove it in. All I could do was try to relax my throat and let him in. He’d tilt his hips slowly back and forth, and then he’d swivel them in a circle, and then he’d drag his cock along my slippery tongue and throat. He loved to sit just above my neck and move my head roughly up and down his staff and my lips could feel the bold relief of the veins standing out on his cock. Every time he’d pull out to let me breath, it ended with a smack across the lips with that huge fucker, signaling that it was time to service him again. And he wanted it all. He was not satisfied with a simple sucking. He wanted it in to the hilt. He wanted to feel the sensations of my throat gagging and gripping his meat, and my tongue lapping at its underside in a desperate attempt to push it out.
And all the while, my own cock was like an iron spike. It throbbed so hard, it ached. And sometimes he would scoot back onto my chest and I could feel his butt cheeks close around the head of my cock. He’d keep the glans warm and wet that way. I was almost fucking him, but that’s as far as he’d let me go. I could reach my own cock clumsily, but instead I clutched his ass cheeks. With every thrust of his hips, they’d ripple and bunch and flex. It was heaven to just feel them. I wanted desperately to run my fingertips up and down the crevasse to see how he’d react, but I couldn’t. My cock was so close to being in him. My hands were so close to touching something more. I longed to hold his balls, to grip his throbbing, dripping cock with both hands, to reach up and tweak those nipples and those hairy, flexing pecs above me, but he let me have so little.
I hated him, and yet I felt unimaginably lucky. He was a sadistic bastard, and he was a god. I wanted to run away, and I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to beg him to stop, and I wanted to beg him not to. I felt reduced to nearly nothing; two eyes struggling to take in his sweaty, hairy, rippling, grunting, rocking body above me, and my own hips desperately trying to raise my cock just an inch more, to gain more than just rhythmic kisses of my cock head against his moist ass cheeks, to feel some friction from the globes of muscle I clutched.
He pulled out of my mouth. I gasped, and once I’d gained some breath, I begged him. I pleaded with him to let me fuck him. He sneered, smacked me against the lips with his heavy, wet cock and thrust it back into my head.
2004
STORY CONTINUES AT DAVID 146