Date: Mon, 31 Dec 2012 04:47:22 -0500
From: Bi Cruiser <bicruiser@hotmail.com>
Subject: A Matter for Confession - Chapter 3

A Matter for Confession - Chapter 3

My sins were piling up and I had no idea of how I was going to handle it in
confession. I had sinned with a deacon of the church and afterward
committed the sin of masturbation many times each day, especially at night.

I struggled desperately not to sin but each night after climbing off of my
knees, having said my fervent evening prayers; I would slide under the
covers only to be tormented by the devil himself who would force dirty
thoughts through my head. Visions of many different size and shaped penises
emptying their milky white burden flashed through my mind in rapid
succession. My penis would slowly thicken, eventually reaching a painfully
distended state requiring me to grasp and massage it in search of
relief. Immediately upon closing my hand around my throbbing shaft, my mind
would shift from fantasy to memory as I would recollect the sight and smell
of the good deacon's massive penis as it oozed its clear fluid on my
forehead and face as he too massaged himself seeking carnal relief. It
always ended the same way. Just as I relived the feeling of his sperm
splashing into my mouth, I too would shoot my precious sperm onto my face
and into my own mouth.

Things were spiraling out of control and I seemed helpless to stop
it. These visions were with me all of the time and so much so that I had
skipped confession altogether for several weeks being heavy with guilt. I
wouldn't have been able to do that if it wasn't that I was on summer
vacation from school and therefore not under the constant eye of the
nuns. I still felt the obligation to seek forgiveness in the confessional
but was afraid to reveal my real depravity to another person, especially
Father Flannigan with whom I had become very friendly considering all of
the church activities he had involved me and frequently shared with me. He
had become a kind of mentor to me as well as being my confessor. My heart
would just break if he found that his interest in me was misplaced and my
salvation apparently futile.

It was inevitable and it finally happened that he asked why I hadn't been
to confession. I stammered while deciding what I would say and then
outright lied to him. I told him that I had been going to St. Cedric's with
my friend Peter, a name I pulled out of my ass to somehow make it sound
real. He cocked his head slightly but didn't give any indication of
doubting my story, but I knew. I knew in my heart that he knew I was lying.

I kept that lie going for a few more weeks while I further indulging myself
in lustful adventures. I sucked off several of the guys in the fort with
some of them returning the favor and had a weekend sleepover at Jimmy's
house where we abused ourselves and each other so much that we could no
longer even touch our overly sensitive cocks. In all of that time, though,
I didn't let a single drop of that precious nectar coming from of either of
our cocks drop to the floor or sheets. I consumed every delectable
dollop. It became my fixation. I got most my sexual satisfaction from
eating sperm. Those pulses hitting my face or in my mouth were more
exciting than me just jerking off. I loved its taste, the heat and feel of
it in my mouth, its gentile aroma on my breath and the persistent coating
it left on my palate. I loved sperm and couldn't get enough of it,
especially the thick creamy cum of the older boys and apparently, men.

My scheme of deception with Father Flannigan was about to come to an end
when he told me that there would be an altar boy outing at a mountain
retreat and that we would all be going to confession together on Friday and
heading out after Sunday Mass two weeks hence. This news sent me into a
panic. I thought that maybe if I stopped all of the sex for the next two
weeks that I would somehow lessen its significance in relation to my other
sins but I had been so busy having sex that I didn't have much time to
commit any other sins. I had been perfectly obedient to my parents so they
would relax their concern and observation of me. Also, my mouth was so
frequently full of cock and sperm that I didn't have much opportunity to
curse or swear. I really didn't have to do much examining of my conscience
to realize that my big sins were of lying and carnal turpitude.

Those two weeks passed like they were two days. Despite my protest, mother,
having talked directly with Father Flannigan, had approved my participation
in the weeklong event and I eventually found myself kneeling in the front
pew of the church awaiting my turn on the gallows of the
confessional. Since the nun's weren't there, we had to manage our own
queuing which shouldn't have been as difficult with only a dozen or so boys
as it turned out to be; everyone being reluctant to get in line and face
the music just knelt there and no one was in line for the
confessionals. Finally, Father Gerard poked his head out of his booth and
screamed the order for us to get with the program. Then, not only was I
fearing the confessional but I was dreading being shut in at a camp in the
mountains with a grumpy drill sergeant like Gerard ordering me around all
week.

My fear became so great that I became frozen in place like the marble
cherubs kneeling with their hands folded as if in prayer at either side of
the altar. There was as much prayer being generated by me as there was by
those inanimate statues. All religiosity was gone from me. The devil had
won. He had taken total possession of my soul and instructed me to get in
line for confession and inwardly assured me that he would handle the rest,
and he did.

As the confessional door slid open, I said, "Bless me father for I have
sinned," those being my own words, the rest were the words of the devil
himself who said, "It has been one week since my last confession." Lie!
The devil rambled out the banal sins of a child, like my prepubescent
confessions which I had said many times in the past. That was before I made
the acquaintance of the sex daemon. He uttered not a single word about me
masturbating myself and those other boys; not a word about the many times I
preformed fellatio on my friends and received it from them too. Nor did I
mention that I consumed tons of cum and loved every drop of it. He spoke
not a word about me kneeling before a man of God and watching him
masturbate until he spilled his potent seed on my face and into my mouth. I
didn't tell him that I enjoyed doing all of these things and that I planned
to continue with these pernicious acts and do them as often as I could. I
knew in my heart that I would do these sex things every minute of the day
if it were at all possible.

Father Flannigan granted absolution but ended our session by saying,
"you're a good boy Billy and God knows it too," as he slid the little door
shut. I continued to kneel there crushed by his last words. I could just
envision the fires of hell enveloping me. I had lied in confession. There
was no redemption for a wretch like me. Tears began to spill from my eyes
as I acknowledged my fate and resigned myself to the consequences of my
sin.

I hadn't realized how long I knelt there contemplating my eternal
punishment until the confessional door suddenly slid open again with Father
expecting to find another penitent. Stunned, I briefly considered starting
my confession all over again and this time telling the truth but with one
last enormous effort on the part of my daemon, I just said, "I'm sorry,
Father, I was lost in prayer."

He seemed a bit suspicious as he asked, "Is everything alright, Billy?"

I said, "Yes, Father, I'll get out!"

"Billy, you control yourself and don't have to do anything you really don't
want to do. Please remember that," he said in a firm and obviously
concerned voice.

"Ok, Father," I said as I stood up and left the booth. I could hear the
little door sliding shut as I left.

After the Mass for the altar boys on Sunday, we all gathered in the church
parking lot to board a bus that would take us to the mountains. We said our
goodbyes to our parents like we were going away to a war zone and boarded
the bus with some of us wiping tears from our eyes. Some, like me, had
never been away from home and family before.

None of the priests got on the bus so we assumed that they would follow
behind. The trip was very long so, at first, we sang hymns like we thought
we were supposed to do but soon got sick of that and broke into smaller
groups and fooled around, played, and joked like a bunch of young boys
would do. Funny, but in all of the time we were on the bus, nothing got out
of hand. We talked, yelled, screamed, laughed and everyone had a great
time.

We had been travelling for several hours and had left the concrete highways
for the roughly paved rural roads which eventually gave way to gravel roads
so narrow that the branches of the trees were scraping along the sides of
the bus. We made one last turn into a dirt lane that was covered by a
canopy of trees that made it feel like we were driving into a large
darkened garage. It eventually opened up onto a large sunny field that
gently slopped down to a gigantic lake. Everyone jumped to the left side of
the bus to get a look at the dark blue waters of the lake and the bus
leaned dangerously as the driver turned right to head up to the buildings
and cabins where we would stay. Fortunately, we quickly adjusted our
positions keeping the bus from tilting all of the way over.

There was only one car parked at the main building that looked very
familiar to me but it didn't belong to any of the priests. I recognized it
as belonging to Deacon Paul. The memory of our encounter came rolling back
as soon as I saw the car. My cock began to swell in anticipation as the bus
bounced and swayed as it approached the buildings. I hoped for an
opportunity to relive that experience and all reluctance on my part to go
on the retreat dissipated.

The bus came to a halt rather abruptly at the front door to the largest
building, which turned out to be the combined cafeteria, meeting hall, and
chapel, causing us all to fall forward, some of us stumbling into and
knocking down others standing in the aisle. Regardless, we all laughed and
scrambled to get out of the door at the front of the buss leaving all of
our gear behind.  Paul greeted each one of us with a big smile and a warm
welcome but I was a little bit discouraged when stepping down from the bus
that I didn't get a special greeting from him considering what he did with
me those many weeks before. After all, the thought of what we did, or more
accurately, what he did, continually ran through my mind and spurred me on
to sexual euphoria on a daily basis. Surely, he must have remembered it the
same way I did and had similar feelings for me. I'm sure he must have
thought of me when he jerked off like I did. I assumed that men jerked off
just like boys did.

Disheartened, I walked over to join the other boys who gathered in front of
the large double doors of the main building. After we were all off of the
bus and gathered together, Paul led us in the Altar Boy's prayer and a
prayer to St. John Berchmans, patron saint of all altar boys, and one to
St. John Bosco, patron saint of boys, for our safety and protection while
at camp.

After prayers, we resumed our chat and jabber but stayed in place as a
group while the bus driver unloaded our gear. Most of us clustered in pairs
or small groups with familiar friends. I was yakking it up with Robert who
was facing me when his eyes broke contact and widened in surprise as
someone came up close behind me and placed his hands over my shoulders and
slide them down and across my chest, That was not all, he also pulled me
close to his body such that I could feel his warmth and the bulge of his
crotch pressed to the small of my back. Knowing immediately who it was, I
relaxed from my initial braced position and settled back to enjoy the feel
of his mass against my back.

I finally felt validated that Deacon Paul sought me out to make personal
and intimate contact. A sexual thrill shot through me as I gently lay my
head back against his chest to enjoy the first actual contact with his
body. To this point our only physical contact was via his sexual
fluids. Now I could feel the body I dreamt he would press against mine, our
clothing being the only barrier to the kind of contact I wished we could
have. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine and feel the
vibration of his words through his chest as their deep vibration soothed me
like a lullaby. The comfortable musing caused my cock to thicken under the
thin fabric of my shorts and I worried that the others would notice; I
wasn't wearing underwear. I don't know about the others but Robert
obviously noticed as his eyes kept gazing down to my crotch as we stood
there.

Paul didn't talk to me but directed what he had to say to other groups
around us as he rocked me playfully from side to side. No one, except
Robert, seemed to notice what was happening between Paul and me but I
certainly did as my dick and his were getting thicker and thicker as we
rocked together. As if nothing strange were happening, he gently pressed
against my back as he was joking and laughing with the other boys. Robert
just silently stood there wide-eyed and awestruck.

He finally yelled out to everyone that he was about to make cabin
assignments and out of necessity, I pulled away from him and turned to face
him along with the rest of the crowd so no one else would notice my
throbbing boner. But, as I turned, I couldn't help but notice the front of
Paul's pants as his enormous semi-inflated penis pushed out at the thick
fabric down the leg of his khakis as if a flashlight - you know, the big
ones that the policemen use - somehow slid down into his pants and got
caught along the front of his thigh. I could even make out the shape of the
head of his cock straining against the heavy material at the mid-section of
his thigh. I was embarrassed by my much more modest protrusion but not
him. He seemed to relish in it. He stood there in all his glory calling for
everyone's attention as he was about to assign the cabins.

There were a dozen or more cabins all in a row separated by a cabin's
width, one from the other, and joined along the front by a boardwalk
covered by a green shingled roof with the doors to all of the cabins
opening onto it. The row was bracketed by two much larger cabins that
obviously housed the staff. The multipurpose building stood apart from the
cabins and was set at an acute angle to the boardwalk but not attached.

Paul assigned the younger boys in groups of four and a single older knight
to each cabin starting with the one furthest from where we were
standing. The boys headed toward their assigned quarters as they were
called dragging their baggage behind them. Robert having recently been
knighted was assigned with the first group. Group by group they were
assigned until everyone had a cabin; except for me. Funny how that worked
out but the numbers added up that way and I was left without cabin mates or
a supervising knight at least that is what I thought.

While the last group was walking away from us, Paul looked down at me
smiling and said, "You, my son, will bunk with me in the end cabin."

I grabbed my bag and followed him to the door of the large cabin on the end
and took notice that there were at least six empty cabins between us and
the boys. Upon entering, I noticed that it was set up like a small
house. There was a room with a couch and some soft chairs that opened
further to a small but complete kitchen with all appliances. A door at the
back of the kitchen opened to a covered porch that ran the width of the
cabin. Back inside, to the left of the sitting room and kitchen were two
bedrooms; the small one having bunk beds and the larger one a large single
bed. I took my bag into the small bedroom and plopped on a bunk. Paul just
stood in the doorway looking at me like I was entertaining him like a puppy
would.

It was getting late and we did a lot of things to get oriented and explore
the camp before having an excellent dinner cooked and served by the three
guys who were staying in the far end cabin. Everyone was having a good time
and we ended the night's activities with a small bonfire and plenty of
s'mores. Then Paul announced that it was time for bed and that lights-out
would be in one half hour.

Everybody scrambled to get to their cabins and ready themselves for bed and
I went by myself to our cabin while Paul extinguished and secured the fire
pit. When he finally came in, I was already in the upper bunk trying to
relax from the exciting day.

He came into my room and said, "What are you doing? You smell like smoke
and you have the entire room smelling like it."

I said, "I'm sorry, I thought you wanted us all to go to bed."

With a bit of a smirk on his face, he said, "Them, not you.", and then he
said, "Get out of there and get into the shower and wash all of that stink
off of yourself."

I jumped from the top bunk landing with a loud thump on the hollow plywood
floor and ran to the bathroom that separated the two bedrooms. The shower
was actually an extension that stuck out from the side of the cabin and was
partially open at the top of its walls beneath the overhanging
roof. Amazingly, there was hot water and a comfortable temperature could be
reached for what was essentially an outdoor shower. The water, however,
emptied through the narrow slits between the floorboards and could be heard
splashing against the foliage growing below. The cabins were built at the
top of a gently sloping ridge where the fronts of them were all at the same
level but the backs were suspended over ground that gently sloped down to
eventually meet a lagoon that swept around from the lake. You could see the
large timbers supporting the backs of the cabins when viewed from the back
porches of the two end units but none of the smaller ones had back porches,
only small windows to let the breeze flow through that came across the lake
most nights.

Upon getting the shower up to temperature, I striped off my clothing and
jumped in, or should I say out, to the shower. Suddenly a light flipped on
as Paul stepped into the shower. He was as naked as I was, and told me
about the switch inside the bathroom next to the toilet.

The light was very dim but I could clearly see the object of my fascination
hanging between his legs. I looked up at him. He had a smile on his face
but wasn't talking. He had a bottle of shampoo in one hand and poured some
into the other and then slapped it onto the top of my head. He briskly
massaged it into lather and thoroughly washed my hair.

As he worked the lather about now using two hands, he pulled me closer to
himself and I occasionally bumped against his body as the massage got
increasingly rough. That little bit of contact was all that it took since
both of our dicks began to swell; mine much faster than his and within
seconds, I was sporting a full hard-on and he had a thick tubular arch that
swung about slapping at me and with each pass I leaned a little closer to
him until our bodies were slipping against each other driven by his
aggressive motions

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and roughly forced my head under the
spray from the showerhead and with his free hand helped rinse the lather
from my hair. His grip on my neck was so firm that it was beginning to hurt
and I was starting to get afraid. I never imagined that he would hurt me
but he was.

With my hair clean, he relaxed his grip on my neck but pulled my head to
his chest and hugged me like a lover. His penis was thickening during our
embrace and was sliding along my stomach as it attempted to reach its
zenith. It just kept moving and growing. I couldn't resist the temptation
so I reached between us and grabbed it in both of my hands.

I could feel it pulsing between my palms and thickening as my grasp was
strained.  It was then up to the top of my chest near my throat but one
thing stopping me from leaning over and taking it into my mouth was the
realization of its size. I would never be able to get it in my mouth but I
knew I would be able to swallow all of its ejaculate and that is exactly
what I had been dreaming about. The other reason I didn't try to suck him
was that he was holding me so tightly that I couldn't move. He began to
sway and softly moan as we continued our cuddle.  He brought his lips to
the top of my head and kissed me before saying, "I've been dreaming of this
moment since the last time we were together."

The side of my face was against his chest and over his heart which was
beating kind of rapidly. His voice was louder to my ear against his chest
than the one away from him. I was trying to decide it he had whispered what
he said or said it out loud. I decided it was a whisper considering his
obviously romantic approach to me. The neck thing, I was sure, was just a
misjudgment on his part.

When he relaxed his embrace, he quickly picked up a bar of soap and began
to wash me starting with my face, my neck, my torso, my genitals, which he
was careful not to over stimulate, my legs, feet, and finally my ass. He
spent a lot of time back there sliding his fingers up and down my crack and
also rubbing it with the rough washcloth.

After rinsing me, he said, "Dry off real well, brush your teeth and jump in
the big bed."

I eagerly followed his instructions while he finished his own shower and
eventually came into the bedroom to join me. I was lying on my back when he
slid onto the bed, both of us still nude and erect; me more so than him. He
slid his arm over my midsection and cuddled up to me lying on his side. In
that position, his massive penis laid heavily across my legs. He leaned in
and kissed me gently on the lips and then again on the forehead. I could
feel his prick moving against my thighs and when he pulled his head back, I
peered down to see it as it climbed up my legs, grazing my balls and prick
as it gained its full length and hardness. My reaction was immediate as I
pulled my left arm from between our bodies and grasped the hot giant to
feel its majesty.

With my hand on his cock, he leaned back in to plant another gentle kiss on
my mouth only this time he held it much longer. I had never kissed a guy
before and for that matter, I had never kissed a girl before at least in a
romantic way. I wasn't quite sure what to do so I just lay there. He broke
the kiss briefly but then pressed on to another but this time more
ardently. I could feel the emotion with his lips. I began to feel it flow
into my body. I moved my lips slightly under his which seemed to excite him
even more and me too.

Paul moved his body over mine, bracing himself on his elbows and knees with
only his lips and penis in contact with my body. I felt the heat building
between our bodies and the movement from his lips causing pressure on
mine. I finally realized that it was his tongue attempting to open my
lips. At first, I clasped my lips shut but found that I was actually
holding the tip of his tongue between them. When I relaxed my hold, he took
the opportunity to slide his tongue under my lips and along my teeth while
pressuring me to open my mouth. I relented and accepted his probe as he
poked and prodded all areas of my mouth until our tongues intertwined in a
mesmerizing dance. I could feel his juices flow from his mouth into mine
tasting faintly like Listerine. With his lips locked solidly on mine, I
could feel his hot breath rushing into my mouth with accelerating rapidity
as his excitement climbed higher the further his tongue penetrated my
mouth. In reaction, I found myself inhaling the air from his lungs into my
own as we began to merge our sexual energy.  It was the massive tube of hot
flesh in my grasp and the mental image of it ejecting a river of hot white
sperm into my mouth that was driving my excitement. The mechanics of his
kissing stimulated my unique G-spot, my oral palate. I imagined his tongue
was a penis and his saliva, pre-cum drooling from it. I began to caress his
tongue with mine, pressing against it and sliding around it which seemed to
stimulate the production more and thicker drool from his mouth. Intrigued,
I pressed back at his tongue and as it retreated, I followed it with mine
into his mouth which served to excite him to even greater heights. His
breathing became very heavy and rapid while his already hard cock expanded
to even greater proportions in my hand.

As I was probing and exploring his mouth He adjusted his position over me
without breaking our now reciprocally passionate kiss. He leaned to one
side and swept up my cock and grasped his own, forcing my hand away and he
squeezed my juvenile penis against his throbbing shaft and began to jerk us
both off simultaneously and within seconds, I was grunting into his open
mouth while my boy sperm was shooting up along his abdomen and landing down
on my chest. It felt as if a sea of sperm flowed out of me as it pooled on
my stomach and chest.

In all of that excitement, we never even once broke our kiss. In fact, it
only served to increase our intensity. He hadn't cum with me but he did
lower his body to press against mine where we shared the slippery feeling
of my hot sperm as he moved against me. At first, he slid from side to side
and then in a modified circular motion but that evolved into an up and down
motion along my torso where I could feel the matted hair on his abdomen,
even though bathed in my slippery sperm, grate and scratch against my
body. His upward movement was stopped only when his massive cock sliding
between my legs could go no further without some sort of accommodation on
my part. The knob at the top of his cock would mash against the bottom of
my scrotum again and again with each of his slides up my body.

Paul finally broke the kiss to adjust his contact with my body and I found
my forehead then against his throat. With his body straightened out, I felt
more of his weight on me and the pressure between my legs caused by his
penis to expand to where it was painful. I could sometimes feel his thick
boner bend between my thighs as he pressed it overly hard against the base
of my cock. He retracted with a jolt immediately assumingly because of the
pain it caused him.

There I was beneath this strange man in the middle of a sexual encounter
and everyone else who had my best interest at heart like my mom and dad and
Father Flannigan thought I was safe as in God's pocket. Well, I was feeling
safe since I had never felt so alive and excited as I did at that moment,
never feeling that good anytime before in my life and I was with a man of
the cloth so I must have been safe. But the truth was that I had only known
this guy from afar by observing him many times at almost every Mass I
attended since I started school and during all of his instruction while
becoming an altar boy, and, of course, that most intimate observation of
him spewing his sperm on my face and in my mouth. The only thing I really
knew of this man is what I had imagined in my erotic reverie of him but at
that moment, I wasn't thinking about my safety or even my wellbeing.

Paul readjusted his position again but this time pulling his body up and
away from mine and I could immediately feel the loss of heat from his body
and the cooling effect of the wet sperm covering my body. He took to his
knees and slid his hands inside my thighs and pulled my legs up and apart
until my ass was then the bottom most part exposed to him as he leaned back
onto me and resumed his humping only then, his knob was grazing along my
ass crack and occasionally pressing firmly against by sensitive asshole.

I had never had any sexual contact involving my ass before and despite my
initial resistance, relented to the new and exciting sensation created from
the friction of his oozing penis sliding against my most private area. I
could feel his voluminous pre-cum, that I still envision as it spilled
before me on that fateful day, pouring down my crack and along my coccyx
and lower back as it was raised by pressure he was placing on the backs of
my legs. When he relaxed the pressure, my lower back would dip into the
accumulated fluid feeling cool at first but it would warm up quickly as
long as I lay upon it. A chill would return as soon as he lifted me back up
and the smear all over my lower back would again be exposed to the
evaporating effects of the air of the room.

The temperature effects were a minor distraction to the sexual euphoria I
was experiencing. The steady rhythm of his cock sliding up and down my
crack had taken me to a new level of sexual thrill. It was only a random
poke at my hole that would wake me from my private bliss. My eyes would
open and my brain would immediately focus on the size of his monster cock
lulling me to complacency thinking the relative sizes of his cock and my
hole would prevent an accidental penetration. Funny, but all during my
youthful inquisition of sex, the subject of anal sodomy never surfaced and
I was absolutely ignorant of his actual objective. I was naive to his want.

Paul finally reached down between us to grab his cock and he moved it to
point directly at my hole and began to press forcefully against it. The
pain was instant and I flinched as I yelped out at the shock. He relaxed
his pressure a little but did not pull back. I thought what he did was a
mistake, but I was wrong.

As soon as I calmed down, he resumed his attack and pressed against my
asshole only this time much harder. The pain was much more intense and I
screamed out but it didn't stop him. I struggled beneath him but the weight
of his body and the lock he had on my legs prevented me from getting any
relief. I really couldn't move – couldn't get away. I could feel my hole
tearing as his massive battering ram was slamming repeatedly against it. I
didn't know what was then dripping down my crack but I was sure it was my
blood.

With each thrust, he grunted and I screamed as his cock gained entry to my
body in tiny ripping and tearing increments. His breathing was so rapid
that I thought, or maybe wished he would have a heart attack and relieve me
of my agony. Despite his strenuous efforts, we were at an impasse. My
youthful virgin hole was just too small to accommodate his beast and its
entry was denied.

Undeterred, he pressed on with his humping and my agony began to wane as my
brain accepted the pain. The burning continued but I began to feel the
texture of his cock with every fiber of my bung as it was forcefully
expanded with his thrusts. He was no longer gaining depth but his presence
at my gate alerted all of my nerve endings and they began to adapt to the
high pressure contact.

Suddenly the rhythm became discordant as a guttural growl came from deep in
his chest. His whole body stiffened and the humping became just one hard
forceful thrust that almost overpowered my weakened portal. I screamed like
a little girl from the intense pain it caused but the pain turned to
ecstasy as I felt the first volley of his male essence force its way into
my body. I surrendered to him at that moment knowing I was receiving his
thick sperm to my colon.  At the moment of surrender, my resistance stopped
and I could feel that massive cock slide slightly forward and deeper into
my ass but it was still too large for a successful penetration. The
advancement of his dick in my ass stimulated every sexual feeling in my
body unlike anything I had ever felt. I simultaneously spurted as he shot a
second jolt deeper into me. He was not able to gain any more depth but
continued to fill me with forceful pulses of his sperm. My sympathetic
spurts had long ended and he was still pumping his jizz into me.

Spent, he collapsed upon me squeezing the air out of my lungs forcing a
loud humph from my mouth and nose. Realizing the calamity, he grabbed my
shoulders in a hug and rolled to his side pulling me with him. The plug of
his cock head became dislodged in the process and a large volume of his cum
was forcefully ejected from my undersized receptacle. I could hear it
cascade across the sheet and feel it flow down my butt cheek as the
pressure subsided. I wanted to turn to look at it and even roll in it but
Paul held me tightly to himself.

When he finally released me, it allowed me to roll on my back after he gave
me a soft kiss on the lips. The pool of sperm was cold on my backside, most
of it having been absorbed in the bedding. I continued to lay in his dregs
while trying to acclimate to what just happened. In a way, I was
unsatisfied since the entire focus for sexual satisfaction to that point
had been the oral consumption of sperm. I felt that the massive amount of
sperm that he ejected was wasted since I didn't consume it but, then again,
I was titillated at the thought of him emptying himself into my bowels and
the thought of what it would feel like if he could actually get that
enormous penis inside of me.

Although exhaust, my daemon wouldn't allow me to fall asleep. He was
forcing me to revel in the physical pain I had endured and convinced me to
want more. I would be brought back to reality by the still intense pain I
felt in my ass. The burning wouldn't stop and it became so itchy that I
felt I had to scratch it but was afraid to put my fingers near that dirty
orifice where my poop came out. I was sure that it must have been covered
in shit since I didn't seem to be able to control the leakage and I was
pretty sure I was getting a whiff of shit as I lay there.

A battle with the daemon ensued as he flushed my mind with more desires of
the flesh but my body countered with the reality of pain. The memories of
the excitement, the passion, and of surrender thrilled me only to be dashed
by the real pain. The skirmish continued back and forth inside of me,
neither side achieving a clear victory. I was beginning to think that pain
was winning out and I nodded my head up to peer down along my body to look
in the direction of the pain as if there was a way to see around and under
my crotch to my asshole where the pain was. The only thing I did see was my
penis, fully engorged, pointing toward me at a 45 degree angle to my
stomach aimed at the wall somewhere above my head and near the ceiling, and
appearing twice its normally erect size. It was the ultimate sign of
victory. Yes, victory for my daemon.