This was the most scared I've ever been in my life.
I really did think I was going to die, and worse still, I thought I was going to be on the front of every tabloid newspaper the length and breadth of the land, possibly abroad too. During my ordeal all I could think about was my poor parents and how they would cope with the swarms of reporters asking probing questions. I imagined my distraught mother having a nervous breakdown...
And all because of Big Jake.
A few years back I used to knock boots with a girl named Emma. Nice girl, scouser, bit erratic but incredibly kinky. Nice arse too.
One fateful day I was off work with a busted foot. Had the fker in plaster and could only hobble about. Emma had gone to work and I was seriously bored by eleven o'clock.
Seriously...
After a bit of Richard & Judy, I remember limping to the bedroom. I thought about lying on the bed for a marathon wk session (watching Judy on the TV had that weird sexy effect on me), but I just didn't feel up to it. I was too bored to wk, this was fking serious!
Eventually I settled in front of Emma's dresser. I hit on an idea - basically I figured I could while away a bit of time thumbing through her sexy undies drawer, just sort of feeling the fabric, perhaps having a bit of a smell, reminiscing about the times I'd seen Emma wear the frilly, flimsy, lacy erection inducing gear.
And that's what I did. For about a minute.
And then I found Big Jake.
Now, I knew of Big Jake already - I'd been lucky enough to see Emma ram him up her vertical smile on several occasions. Big Jake reminded me of happy, loving, and downright squelchy times.
Ahh, Big Jake! I thought, as I got him out the draw and felt the weight of him in my hands. Nice. Felt a bit like I imagine a good heavy club would feel. Only Big Jake was jet black, veiny, and had a motor your average 125cc motorcycle would be proud of. Emma had picked Big Jake up in Amsterdam. He was, quite frankly, fking HUGE and FAT, fat like an American fat.
And that's when the thought went through my head...
God, how I wish I could turn back time, put Big Jake back in the draw, and go back to a bit more Richard and Judy before a lunchtime ham sandwich.
But no, not me.
I thought: I wonder what it feels like to have a cock up your arse? I mean, several million gay fellas can't be wrong, can they?
And the thought stuck in my head and crystalised.
I considered having a go on Big Jake in the bedroom, but thought: what if I st myself? So decided somewhere easier to clean would be more practical.
Moments later, I'd hobbled over to the bathroom, stark bk naked except for my foot cast, my clothes tossed about the flat in *ahem* gay abandon. I found myself squatting in the empty bath, using the sides for support, with Big Jake greased and ready to go below me, humming like a bandsaw.
Then I lowered my arse over him, and when he was tickling my ring, in a sudden and incredibly painful split second, my fked up foot gave way and I slipped-
-DIRECTLY ONTO BIG JAKE, RIGHT UP TO THE MOTHERING HILT-
fk me!
Pain?
I had never felt that much agony in my fking life...
It was like being fisted by the Statue of Liberty, with the tourch on fire.
I nearly passed out, but somehow managed to keep it together. My teeth were vibrating from the raw power of Big Jake, it was fking horrible. When Emma had him in her she was usually howling... but not in the same way I was now.
Eventually, when the ability to move my arms returned, I managed to reach down between my legs and switch Big Jake off. My brain stopped buzzing. It stopped feeling like I was having an epileptic fit. I was weak and sweaty and had a fake cock up my arse. Not a very pleasant feeling...
And there I stayed, for a good fifteen minutes, lying prostrate in an empty bath with Big Jake buried deep in my colon.
That's when I started thinking about the tabloids.
Then I started to panic. And when I panic, I take the only sensible course of action. I cry.
Eventually, after lots of crying and failed attempts, I managed to free Big Jake from my raw ring, which had sort of spasmed and clamped Big Jake in place like a steel vice.
As soon as he was out, I did an absolutely amazing st in the bath that looked like a large coiled brown python, and then I collapsed on top of it, smearing splashy st up the walls and even managing to get a few flecks on the ceiling.
After a few more frantic minutes of crying, I could feel the movement ebb back into my legs.
Took me ages to clean the place up... What with the broken foot and sore arse.
When Emma came home that evening she asked me what I'd been up to.
"Oh, the usual," I smiled back nervously. She didn't seem to notice that I couldn't sit down properly.
Couldn't exactly say: "Oh, I impaled myself on your twelve inch dildo in the bath, could've ruptured some internal organs and died in a slick of my own st, blood, piss and vomit."
And I have to admit the next time Emma used Big Jake infront of me, all I could do was wince inwardly...
Home 
