SkinMarvin Gay Stories

I could hear laughter. Someone was laughing loud. My eyes were closed, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to open them; my senses were all a bit out of sync, and all I knew was that I could hear this horrible rough laughing noise sinking into my head.

I was sat down, I knew that. And I could smell that where I was didn't smell too good. Smelt like I had my head down a dirty toilet. But I hadn't, I knew that, because I was sat up. But my arse felt wet. Had I shit myself? I hoped I hadn't shit myself.

I managed to open my eyes. It was dark. It was dark but there was someone in front of me. I could see that much. It was above me; above me and in front of me; that's where the laughter was coming from. I looked up, and then I remembered.

Oh shit, I remembered it all now. I looked back down and around where I was sat. No wonder I was feeling wet; I was sat in the fucking trough. The fucking trough full of stale piss, and I was sat right in it. He must have done that. He must have put me there after I had passed out. The fucking bastard!

I looked up at him again; he was grinning from ear to ear, but there was something not quite right about his grin; something not very pleasant about it.

His eyes bore into mine, and I thought I was going to pass out again. But I didn't. Instead I just sat there quivering, while my wet arse got wetter and colder.

"Look at what I've got for you, cunt." He scowled.

And what had he got for me? What was his gift to me going be?

There in his hand he was still holding onto that thick piece of meat. And it was thick. And I mean, really thick. It hung down past the fist that held it tight, and there it's shape changed a little, because the meat had lost some of it's substance, and instead there now hung thick, fatty skin. His foreskin looked to be nearly as long and thick as my own cock.

What was he doing? What was he going to do to me?

"Get a load of this, fucker."

He started pulling the skin back from the base of his cock. Rolling it back, fold after fold; was it ever going to end? But it did end, because eventually the puckered tip of his foreskin had to begin stretching it's way over the head of his cock. It was tight now, but it was still moving back.

First the glistening piss slit could be seen; all sticky and shiny. I swear that even in the darkness I saw it wink at me. Now he pulled it back further, but he did it slowly, knowing that I was mesmerised. Here I am, a straight bloke, scared into submission by this monster of a man, and I am completely and utterly captivated by the sight of him pulling back the foreskin of his cock. Something was seriously wrong here.

He pulled it right over the great shining purple head of his knob, and there the great Cyclops stared straight at me; it's one eye glistening in the gloom.

I closed my eyes thinking he was going to piss again. But nothing happened.

I opened my eyes again, thinking about moving, but not sure how far I would get if I tried. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. Then he moved forward; one heavy boot at a time. His hand made it's way to the top of my head, and he pulled me toward him, closer and closer to the lethal weapon in his hand.

"Suck it." he hissed.

No way. No way in this world was I going to suck his stinking cock. Even in this situation a man, a straight man like me, has to make a stand. Even sat down, and unable to fight this maniac, I was going to make my stand.

I never said a word. I didn't protest, I didn't plead. I just l kept my mouth shut. Nothing was getting past my lips.

He brought my head closer, and I went a little cross-eyed as I stared back at the single unblinking eye that was advancing towards me. My mouth tightened even more, and the sticky end of the big purple knob pressed against my lips. I had never been this close to another man's cock before, and I can't tell you what strange feelings of fear, and repulsion, and strange excitement were running up and down my spine.

He rubbed his cock against my mouth, making sure that my lips were covered with the slime that was leaking from his piss slit. But I still didn't open my mouth. He pushed hard, pulling on my head at the same time, and still I kept my mouth fastened shut.

It's a strange phenomenon, and one that I can't explain, but all the time that dick was pressing into me, leaking it's pre-cum, trying too push it's way into mouth, I had an urge to lick my lips. I don't know why, but I wanted to taste the slime that was coming out of that gaping hole.

My cock started hardening at the same time. This was no good. This was weird. I was straight. I kept on telling myself; I was straight, and I liked cunts and tits, and I didn't like cock. But maybe I did like cock?

No. No way. I did not like cock, and I was not getting aroused by this, at all.

He didn't try and persuade me to open my mouth. He didn't speak at all. He grunted once, and then put the toe of his boot onto my crotch. I didn't flinch. He pressed down, hard, onto my genitals. It really hurt. Hurt and got my cock hard at the same time. I don't know why it did that; I didn't know what was happening to me, and why my body was responding in this way. But I still wouldn't give in, even though I was desperate to have a little taste. What if I just flicked my tongue out for a second, that wouldn't hurt would it? It's not like that would mean I was sucking his cock or anything; just a little lick of my lips.

No. I mustn't. I would not give in. He leaned forward, grinding my dick with his boot. He placed his finger and thumb over each side of my nose, and he pressed them together. Great, now I couldn't breath. I would hold out though. He would get bored before I gave in. How long could I hold my breath for?

Not long enough, that was for sure, because no time had passed at all before my body reacted to the lack of air and betrayed me; my mouth opened involuntarily for an intake of oxygen.

His reactions were like lightening. He let go of my nose and plunged his engorged cock deep into my mouth until I was gagging, and then he pulled it out again. I managed to gasp some air and was about to close my mouth when he rammed it back in again, and this time he didn't take it out, but used my mouth to wank his cock. It didn't matter that I'd never had a dick in my mouth before, it didn't matter that I wasn't sucking it for him; he just used my mouth to get himself off. Backwards and forwards he pulled my head, making me impale myself on his meat. He fucked my skull like there was no tomorrow and every time I gagged, he pushed it in further and harder.

All the time he continued to grind his boot on my cock, and my cock got harder and harder. I was being roughly used like a cheap whore, and I was getting off on it. What was the point to anything anymore? What was the point of denying that I was enjoying it? Fuck it! Fuck it all, because like it or not, I was enjoying it.

I didn't really know what I was doing but I started moving my tongue around on the dick inside my mouth. It wasn't easy, and I had to really get used to the timing of his pistoning; but I was picking it up pretty quickly. I grabbed onto one of his legs with both hands and pulled him closer. He looked down at me, and with his hands still pressed on either side of my head he pulled his dick out of my mouth and let is rest there throbbing and dripping with my slobber.

I looked up at him, and he grinned his half-toothed grin again.

He winked. Then he sneered. And then he said:

"Lick it."

So I did. I stuck my tongue out and I licked the end of his cock. I moved my tongue all over that pulsing purple knob.

He put his hand on my head, whacked me on the mouth a couple of times with his meat, just to let me know he wanted me to open up again, which I did, and he plunged it in and right to the back of throat until I gagged.

He slapped me on the back of the head, almost playfully, almost; letting me know that I was doing something right, that I was pleasing him; that maybe after this was over he wouldn't kill me and leave my body to rot in little pieces stuck in the cistern. At least, I hoped that's what it meant.

He wasn't just raping my mouth anymore; in fact the whole idea of rape had passed from my mind, because now we were having sex; his cock and my mouth were rising and ebbing in the throws of passion. My mouth was in love with his cock, and his cock was shagging my mouth for all it was worth.

I stopped licking and I stopped trying to suck him, but just opened my mouth as wide as I could, trying to do what I could to open my throat up as wide as it would go, so that he would be able to get his massive piece, this extra limb that he had been blessed with, as far down my throat as it would go; until my nose and my cheeks were being scraped raw by the scouring curls of his pubes, with the heady smell of his balls sitting tight in his jeans rising into my nostrils. And he appreciated it. He took one hand off the side of my head and ruffled my hair. But quickly his hand went back to the side of my head, and that was it, he was like a fucking steam train; whacking it down my throat. At one point my head span a bit from lack of air intake, but it passed, as I got used to his rhythm.

The man; the big man with the huge cock, started grunting like a bull. A great big, ugly fucking bull. Grunting and snorting.

I stared up at him, allowing myself to be used, because for that snippet in time I was in love. In awe, and in love. And he winked at me. My heart jumped; the ogre had winked at me. But his face was changing. His eyes were bulging. The veins in his gigantic arms were swelling. His breathing was getting heavier and his snorting was getting louder. And his cock was inflating. It had been engorged before, but now it seemed like it had grown while it had been punching my tonsils, because it felt bigger in my mouth now and all the while it was pulsating like there was electricity surging through it.

Now I had an idea what was going on here, and in love with Shrek or not, I did not want him cumming down my throat. I was new to all this. This was all completely new to me to me, who up until ten minutes ago was a straight man getting abused by this ugly queer. But now it was me who was the queer. Queer and desperate for cock, but not at all desperate for the sticky white stuff that comes out off cocks. I didn't want that. I didn't want to have to deal with that, not on my first time. I was just a virgin after all.

So I tried to pull off. I pushed against those tree trunk legs and I tried to pull my mouth off of the dick down my throat. But he wasn't having any. I tried to speak, but obviously with my mouth stuffed full of throbbing flesh there wasn't much chance of me making any sort of audible noise. I pushed harder, and I pulled harder, but he was having none of it. He was taken over by the pleasure that comes when you're getting close. He was going crazy with the feelings that were rising through his body, and he wasn't letting go of that for anything.

And he gripped on harder, and he rammed in harder, and he pumped harder and harder, snorting harder and harder, still like a great bull, but now like a bull that was going mad. A bull with mad cow's disease; uncontrollable and crazy as fuck!

And he was laughing again; between the snorting he was chuckling down at me there sat in the trough. But this was it, this was going to be my first time and although I didn't want to, there wasn't anything I could do about it, because this was it now. His hands were crushing my head, but he didn't care, because he was somewhere else.

And now this was it; it was time. I closed my eyes, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it. The thrusts had gotten bigger now, swelled just like his manhood, and he had reached his peak.

One thrust. Another thrust. Another thrust. And

. Bang!

Explosion after explosion, rivers of the stuff; thick, hot rivers of his seed.

And somehow, it had caught me off guard, because I was coughing, coughing and unable to breath, but he carried on pumping it in, pumped it right down my throat into my stomach; and for a moment, I even thought I could feel the little wrigglers swimming about inside me.

Eventually, and it seemed like it had been forever, but eventually he slowed down, and his hands on my head relaxed a little and allowed my head to regain it's normal shape.

He pulled it out. It was still dripping, and it was still quite hard. He pressed his forefinger and thumb into each cheek until my tongue popped out without a choice; and he, the big man, the snorting bull, let the last of his jizz drip down onto my subservient tongue.

"Swallow it."

I did. I pulled in my tongue and I savoured the gift that had been given me, and I let it dribble down into my stomach to join the rest. I stuck out my tongue again and licked the knob with the blood still beating hard through it. He looked down at me again, breathing heavy and grinning; and once again he showed his approval by rustling my hair.

Just then, we both looked towards the door. Fuck! Someone, a shadow within the shadows, had just walked in.

To be continued...