Jim smiled and took a deep breath. He’s bigger and stronger than me. And I don’t mind that at all; ... It’s an adventure. And only wimps pass up adventures.
As Jim was about to find out.
Jim grinned at Hal. “You’ll have to fight for the privilege! We’ll wrestle. If you win, you do what you like!”
Hal grinned even more broadly. “I’m up for that. I’m said to be a good wrestler. But let’s prepare you…”
“What d’you mean?”
“Shuddup and kneel on that sofa.”
Jim did so, his arms resting along the sofa’s back. Hal stooped and rimmed Jim gently, causing him to yelp, then gave him two fingers coated in gel. Deep inside Jim, he made a v-sign. (“Fuck!!” groaned Jim.) Then Hal started to massage his own cock. It was beautiful, rosy and thick; a champion cock. You instinctively wanted to grab it; Jim, who looked round at that moment, did so. It immediately got longer and harder.
“Looking at what you’re getting into? Or what’s getting into you!” laughed Hal.
“That’s if you win!”
“Yep; I’ll win.”
They closed in what proved to be an epic struggle. Jim was in terrific form but he began to realise that Hal was even stronger than him; slightly bigger, heavier and with an army combatant level of fitness. But maybe not as agile? He hoped so. They were soon pouring with sweat. They fought almost in silence, apart from the occasional grunt or swear-word. From time to time they would ‘take five’ to gasp for breath and recuperate. They stared at each other with renewed respect.
Having won, Hal flipped Jim on his back and grinned down at him: “Scared, are you? Worried?”
Jim looked serious. “That’ll be the biggest cock I’ve ever taken inside me.”
“I’ll take that as a fucking compliment! I’ll go in slowly….to begin with!” Hal slapped on some extra gel.
It was bigger, and hurt more, than Jim could have imagined. It more than satisfied his occasional, urgent and deep masculine need to feel violated; a need which he’d never bothered to analyse, although he knew that other men – some of them very masculine indeed – felt the same. It also felt great. He threw back his head and roared. Hal was thrusting rhythmically, building up towards his own climax. Sweat dripping from his face, Hal looked down at Jim and smiled. Jim looked more handsome than ever when he was suffering. Hal bent down and kissed him.
“I fucking love you, Man!” Hal gasped as he came. Their sweat mingled.
After another shower they went to bed and slept like innocents. Neither gave much thought to the burglar incarcerated in the strong room.
The following day, after a swim and fried English breakfast, they remembered their prisoner. Being now completely sober, they had to plan seriously. First they locked him - still tied up - in the back of Jim’s van, with the spare wheel, repair kit etc. Soon after that, they took a decision.
“I’ve got to run you back to the army base, so we’ll drop him off en route, near Lovetow Cliffs. Someone’ll pick him up eventually!”
(Lovetow Cliffs was in a fairly remote area. The name was thought to mean ‘wolf cub (louveteaux) cliffs’; wolves might once have made their dens in the caves and tunnels below them.)
“Or they’ll accelerate away, which is more likely. Not everyone wants a nude madman in their car, which is what most people would think" said Hal, reasonably.
“So his best option is the emergency services.” Jim sounded as though the whole thing was settled.
That is what they did. The burglar was still tied up when they dropped him off, but Hal had loosened his bonds. Naked and shivering, he hailed the first vehicle that he heard coming. It sounded like a bus; hopefully an empty one, as it was still early. He had the worst possible luck; the vehicle was not a bus but a coach, filled with members of the Women’s Institute on an organised outing. As the driver slowed, the women passengers started threatening all sorts of things at the top of their voices, if the driver dared to pick up the nude madman. The driver therefore sped on, with his cargo of screaming women. Several villages were startled by their deafening yells while he did so. He radioed the emergency services. Not long afterwards, an ambulance and a police car arrived at Lovetow Cliffs. The burglar was restrained, because he had resisted the ambulance workers, whom he thought were SAS come to murder him. He duly appeared before the magistrates, having been supplied with some garments. His story was disbelieved, mainly because he could not be too specific (for example, about exactly how and why he had come to be on Jim’s premises in the first place, or even where those premises were, given that he had been committing a crime at the time) and he had no wish to be sentenced for breaking and entering, aggravated by attempted theft. He was ordered to undergo a lesser penalty: compulsory psychiatric treatment and a suspended sentence. The motor-bike and its driver were not sought or traced. Nor, fortunately, were Jim and Hal.
Jim and Hal drove on towards the military base where Hal was stationed.
“Put me down here,” said Hal, when they were a hundred yards away from the main entrance.
“Okay but why?”
“This is fucking why.” Hal grabbed Jim in a bear-hug and kissed him affectionately on the mouth. “Don’t want to frighten the sentries, do we?”
Hal got out of the van, shouldered his kitbag, smacked the van affectionately on the rear and jogged off towards the gate. Jim remained where| he was, admiring Hal’s muscular legs and ass, which were set off by his close-fitting, low-waisted jeans.
If Hal were to strip off his shirt, we’d see an inch of ass-crack, and risk maybe a glimpse of pube at the front!. His jeans are that low-waisted. And that flimsy, lace-up cheesecloth shirt of his is practically see-through and gaping open at the front. He’s fucking sexy and he knows it. I can’t wait for next weekend.
Hal disappeared into the guard-room.
In the event Jim was to see Hal sooner; well before the weekend. Held up by traffic-lights near Norwich, he was very annoyed when a banana skin landed on the polished bonnet of his sports car.
“Fuck!” shouted Jim.
“Fuck you too, Mate!” came the cheerful rejoinder.
Jim looked up. An army lorry was stationary beside him. Leaning out of the cab window was Hal, now in DP combat kit. His sleeves were neatly rolled up to display strong, fair-haired and sunburned forearms, one with a tattoo; even this brief glimpse felt erotic. A dark-blue beret adorned with a gilt regimental badge and a coloured hackle of feathers crowned his blond hair. It was cocked at a jaunty angle.
“See you Friday, Chum!” Hal grinned and winked at Jim. He had large, very clean, white teeth.
Jim gave Hal a thumbs-up and pulled away. He felt immensely cheered by having seen Hal, even for a few moments. Sometimes life could be very sweet.
That night Jim had a seriously bad dream. It started well enough. It was summer and he was on an island in the Aegean. He decided to go for a swim. Jim always swam naked when he could; there seemed to be no-one around, so he stripped, waded into the shallows and headed for a distant rock. As he swam through the clear water, his body seemed to be lightly touched and tickled by something; possibly tendrils of seaweed. He kept on towards the rock, hauled himself out and prepared to sunbathe on a flat area. The rock was still wet, which suggested that it was covered at high tide. He seemed to fall asleep.
Suddenly he awoke, to find that he was not alone. Several octopuses, some small and others very large, had emerged from the water and were looking at him with large, curious eyes. They were all different colours. Seeing him wake, one of the biggest ones quickly immobilised Jim’s arms and wound a wet, slithering tentacle round his neck. A small octopus climbed onto his stomach and began tickling Jim’s cock and balls skilfully. Two other larger ones pulled his legs wide apart and immobilised them, despite his struggles. Then the biggest octopus of all began to investigate Jim’s asshole with a cold, wet tentacle. Jim was petrified with fright. He could not remember whether octopoda ate people or merely drowned them, but what was happening to him seemed almost worse.
Having concluded its investigations, the biggest octopus thrust a long, thick tentacle deep inside Jim’s ass and began to penetrate and explore his guts. Jim could feel the suckers as the tentacle crept along. Not content with this, a second and a third tentacle followed, stretching his ass to the limit. The small octopus continued its careful ministrations, bringing Jim closer to orgasm. Jim was now screaming. His head, hands and feet were pressed against the rock; the rest of him was bent and taut, like a bow, straining upwards. Hardly any part of him was free of the octopoda’s attentions, or of their slime. The most horrible part of this was that deep down Jim was actually enjoying his rape. Finally he shot his load of sperm violently, emptying his balls. Jim woke up, pale and shaking. The sheets were wet with sweat and sperm. He was back in Little Kansas.
Fuck, I think I’ve been given a personal going-over by Old Nick himself! Maybe its my punishment for what I did to that burglar?
“What you need, Chum, is some proper sex with a human,” said Hal, when Jim told him about it. “I’m going to supply that.” And he did. "Get your kit off, Jim. I'm coming to get you!"
