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The following is a true story as told to me by a friend.
Back in the late Fifties, I was the captain of a US Navy vessel, a big man o’ war (that shall remain nameless). Three heavy gun turrets, a couple dozen torpedoes, several million dollars’ worth of seagoing steel, and several hundred men were my command, but as the CO, I was enjoying my last cruise. I was 56, had reached the rank of Captain O-6, and after a great career, I was about to retire.
Now I am an old man. Now I can tell this story.
After 25 years of seafaring, I was looking forward to puttering around my house in Virginia. After World War II, the following Cold War, and the Korean War, I was tired. I just wanted to kick back and rest.
On that last cruise, I stood one night on the bridge looking out into the night. My wife was gone, succumbed to cancer 10 years earlier, and the Navy had filled my life. Our son and I had struggled on, Brad staying with my wife’s sister and her family nearby when I had to leave on sea duty. I leaned against the rail and dropped my head into my hands.
Brad would be gone from my house when I retired — he had grown old enough to join the Marine Corps, and he was carrying on the family military tradition. I would get out of the Navy in two months. Everything was perfect. Even the timing of the ship’s patrol was perfect. After leaving the public relations visit to the Mediterranean city, whose lights I could see in the distance, we would go back to the States in three weeks, perfectly in time for my retirement date.
But it was a melancholy perfection. What will I do without the Navy?
I would be active — I would still have things to do for and with the Navy. I was considering a teaching position in a local college. I could even start a business. After my wife’s death, I had poured myself into my Navy career, and that kept me too busy for physical loneliness.
Strictly speaking, I had no reason to worry. I cut rather a decent figure, if I said so myself: I was 6’1″ and in trim shape for my age. Silver threaded through my hair and mustache, but I had no fat, no sagging jowls on my face, and I could still jog around the deck with the men doing PT. When I smoked my pipe, people sometimes told me I looked like David Niven.
My problem was that I had, for lack of a better term, “outgrown” the available women. “Out-aged” is a better word. Helpful friends were forever inviting me to dinner where — surprise, surprise — an unmarried female friend of the family just happened to show up. It never worked out. Women my age were wrinkled and sagging — and so was I.
One look at the sailors running around my ship, and I knew I was no longer the type to catch the eye of a woman — or at any rate a woman who would catch my eye.
A few male friends had even hinted at taking advantage of “quicker services,” but somehow a whore fell short of my preferences. I had to face it: at my age, I would rather listen to a recording of Rimsky-Korsakov than watch an old, tired, sweaty whore doing a hootchy-kootchy to arouse my interest.
The following evening, when the ship tied up and prepared to open its gangways for guided tourist visits, I decided to take a few hours off from the pressures of command and have dinner in one of the city’s restaurants, since they were famous for good food. I changed into civilian clothes and took a taxi to a restaurant/bar well noted in the tourist guides. I ordered a meal and a cocktail.
Nice place. A jazz trio played soft music from a corner of the room, and the lighting was dim and romantic. My wife would have loved it. That thought somehow put the music into a minor key — sad. I had the blues.
After my meal, I had another cocktail, then another. Feeling a serious buzz, I realized the bartender was more generous with the liquor than those in US bars, and I had drunk more than I wanted to. I can usually handle three drinks with no problem, but I felt pretty smashed, so I stayed in my booth, listening to the music, hoping the alcohol would wear off.
Finally I had to go to the bathroom, so I got up and walked to the men’s room, glad I could keep from staggering, but taking advantage of handrails and other assists on the way. Inside, standing at the urinal pissing, I hoped I was getting rid of some of the alcohol, but I knew I would have to make a very serious effort to get back on the ship with any dignity. How embarrassing! Imagine staggering up the gangplank to take the salute of the Watch. Damn, maybe I’ll have to take a hotel room for the night.
I heard the door open behind me. A big man stepped up to the urinal beside me. I caught a glimpse of his gaudy clothes. American tourist. Big guy. Muscular. A drunk. I could smell the booze even though I had a few myself. Fucking American drunks! They give us a bad name!
But then, hell, I’m drunk myself.
The guy looked over escort at me and smiled. I looked away. Damned drunk. Maybe also a pervert. From the corner of my eye, I could see he was still looking at me. “I like older guys,” he said. “You’ll do.”
Before I could react, he grabbed me, shoving me into the wall! As I struggled against him, he jammed a cloth over my mouth and nose. Stinging, choking fumes!
That’s all I remember.
When I woke up, I had a splitting headache. As my senses focused, I realized I was on my belly on a bed, my arms outstretched — handcuffed to the bedposts! My feet were free, so I crawled up to my elbows and knees — and — no clothes! I was naked! Ohmigod!
“Awake now?” I looked around at the voice. The bastard from the men’s room! He, too, was naked, stroking his penis, a very large one, fully erect. “Okay, man, your time has come.”
“What in hell is the meaning of this,” I roared. “Do you know who I am??” Damn, I wish I were sober!
“Hey, you speak English! Well, I’ll be damned, an American! What are the odds!” He arose from his chair, still stroking himself, and stood close to me. “No, I don’t who you are. Do you know what this is?” He pressed his penis against my face, and I shrugged away in disgust.
“You bastard! Turn me loose!” I was about to tell him I was the captain of a Navy ship, but I thought better of it. This could get ugly once it’s out in the public. I rolled onto my side to kick out at him somehow, but with my hands cuffed to the bedposts, I was hardly dangerous. He easily avoided my flailing legs, pinned them down, and rolled me back onto my belly.
I knew what was going to happen. I hadn’t been in the Navy for 25 years without learning something about what sailors did in the dark. Oh, God, no! NO!
He had trapped me. No way out. I took a deep breath. Maybe I can put my mind somewhere else. Maybe it will be over fast and easy. I bit my lip. What a nightmare!
“You’re gonna like this.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, but I struggled away. “This can be easy, or this can be hard.” He gripped my shoulder again. “If you want to fight, I can wrestle with you all night long. Or if you just relax, I’ll get what I want, you’ll get what you need, and we’ll all be on our way.”
He reached down and groped at my penis. I snatched back my hips, getting away from him again. “It’s all up to you, man,” he growled. “But if it takes all night and all day, I’m gonna do you.”
I was horrified. No way out! While we stared at each other, my mind was racing. He’s right. I can struggle all night long, but I can’t hurt him, and soon I’ll tire out. The end will be the same. I figured compliance the only way to get the nightmare over with, so I rolled over onto my hands and knees and rested my forehead against the sheets. The man’s hands slid down to grope my buttocks.
“Nice-looking ass, man.” His fingers moved into the cleavage of my buttocks wriggling and tickling. I heard him spit.
Then pain! Oh, my God!! I leaped and struggled in agony as his finger rammed into my rectum! I yelped but realized the bastard didn’t care — and I’m humiliating myself — so I clenched my teeth in silence as he machine-gunned the finger in and out. I heard his heavy breathing, his warm panting on my ear. “Yeah, man, you’re gonna like this. Nobody’s played with you back there before, I can tell. Well, old man, I’m gonna teach you what that hole is really for.”
I didn’t answer. He was beneath contempt. What a bastard. A bottom-feeder. A disgrace to the country. If I could find out the identity of this bastard, I would have him doing hard time in a penitentiary.
“Nice and tight. You’re pretty old to be a virgin, but better late than never.” The bastard! How humiliating. After I had adjusted to a single finger, he pulled it out and reinvaded me with two! Again stabbing pain but slowly fading. Then he did the same with three fingers! Again, hurt like hell, but at the end the pain had faded away. Who could have imagined I could take three whole fingers in my rectum!
He crawled onto the bed and mounted me, his body pressed against my back. It’s happened! Oh, God, a man has mounted me!! He pulled the invading fingers from me and humped his hips against my rear-end. “You know how it works, right? The first man to sink his cock into you gets your cherry, and he gets you as his bitch. And that’s going to be me!” He kissed the back of my neck. “The name’s Craig. Remember me. I’ll be your owner.”
I kept my face buried in the sheets — Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God! I could feel the heat on my face. I must be blushing. Damn, how embarrassing!
He spread my legs open, and I braced myself. The bed rocked and swayed as he moved around, taking aim. The heat of his body pressed against my back. Any second now . . . I’ll get his penis through my rectum! . . . How depraved!
But escort bayan it didn’t happen. His lips pressed against my ear, and he whispered, “I’m going to get you more in the mood, man, so relax.” What? What in hell is this?? He moved back off me! I looked back. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, and his hands spread my thighs apart. Suddenly his warm breath tickled my rear end. What in hell is he doing? His hands moved up to part my cheeks . . . and he began licking at my anus!
I stiffened as the most intense feeling I ever had spread out from the spot. God! Jolts of electric pleasure shot through my whole body from my rectum! Oh, my hell, such pleasure! And coming from such a place!
The sensation was astounding, like a tickle x 1000. Incredible! I couldn’t keep myself from wriggling. He stopped for a moment. “Yeah, you see? A little rim-job on your asshole, and you’re squirming like a bitch in heat.”
The insolent bastard! But he’s right. I’m damn humiliated, but it’s true: I’m squirming like a bitch in heat. He went back to work, and after a minute or two, I was breathing hard, on fire from the sensations in my asshole. Yes, like a bitch in heat. I couldn’t help myself — I drew one leg up higher on the bed to give him better access. The liquor! It’s the liquor! I would never be like this without being drunk!
Since I was drunk, what the hell, I gave in to the pleasure! As his tongue dug deeper and deeper in my asshole, my asshole liked it! I raised my hips off the bed, rising to my hands and knees, letting him at me. “Like this, do ya?” he grunted from my nether region. The insolent bastard! This is rape! I opened my mouth to tell him I would have him arrested, imprisoned, and I would make sure he got 20 years for rape . . . but all that came out was an ecstatic “Mmmmmmmmm!”
When he finished rimming me, I crouched there purring like a mountain lion. Tamed. No struggles. God, what a feeling! I had never been so goddamned hot!
“Your asshole is ready for my cock,” he growled, and I heard him cough up another wad of spit. He crawled onto the bed and onto me again. Wiping his spit on my glowing asshole, he reached his big arms under my chest, placing his penis — his cock — between my buttocks!!
Gripping me tight, he whispered in my ear, “Easy, man, just relax and let me in. I’m between your cheeks now, just about home. I know you’re gonna enjoy this. We’ll go slow for your first time.”
Kicking my legs open wider with his knees, he spread my cheeks with his hands, and his big cock zeroed in on my asshole. My first instinct was to tighten up and resist as his cock pushed against my opening. He thrust more powerfully, and I yelped in pain.
Again he murmured in my ear: “Easy man, push outward. Like you’re taking a shit. My cockhead will pop through, and the pain will go away fast.”
He pulled back for moment, and I did as he asked. Ungh! — his cockhead slipped past my sphincter. It hurt! But once past, the pain was less. Damn, my asshole is a porthole! Once through it, he’s in an open compartment.
Craig’s voice crowed behind my ear: “Busted your cherry man! I’m the first man to get his crank in your ass!”
I breathed deep, still trying to adjust to the pain, and his invading crank moved further in. More pain, more writhing, more lunges at my asshole. Then: “I’m in, man. To the balls. You are FUCKED!”
I couldn’t believe it. I took that big cock? He paused a minute, murmuring I needed to “get used to him.” His hairy testicles — his balls — and wiry crotch hair ground against my tender ass. I blinked — I can actually feel that big thing pulsing deep in me!
He was right. While the big cock lay quiet in me, the pain gradually faded until I felt a blend of . . . Jesus Christ, pleasure?? I caught my breath, stunned. No, this can’t be true! I can’t feel good!
I had to admit it: this is an intoxicating sensation! It hit me: This is what a woman feels! How humiliating! I couldn’t deny it: I like this!
That horrified me. No, goddamn it, I am straight! I was married, and I have a son!
The man lay on top of me, and he and I were one — the piston and the cylinder. I fought the idea but had to confess: it was a pleasant feeling to be connected to him by the cock plugged into my ass. I am his partner.
I gulped. No, goddamn it, No! I am not submitting to him! He cuffed my hands to the bed! If I get my way, this bastard will find himself in jail! But I couldn’t deny it: I felt pleasure.
He kissed the side of my head, “You will always remember this moment, old man. You’ll always remember I’m your first.”
“And the last, you bastard!” I had to spit that out! Any man with an ounce of self-respect would have done the same.
Then the world changed for me. I felt his first out-movement.
It goes down in my personal history as the bayan escort moment my whole life turned around. He astonished me. As the shaft of his cock slid slowly back out of my ass, the sensation was thrilling! Like a conveyor belt of ecstasy trailing blissful sensations past my asshole! Craig’s cock was a 4th of July sparkler splattering burning pleasure through my guts as it traveled down my intestine. As the inches of his big cock slid past my hypersensitive ass-ring, I swear I could feel each every vein, bump, and texture, and sparks of electric pleasure shot from my asshole.
I ground my face into the sheets, my body taut and tense, agonizing through a pleasure a thousand times more electrifying than being rimmed! Almost like an orgasm starting at my asshole! Jesus Christ! I’ve never felt anything like this in my whole fucking life!
That was just his first outstroke! Once out to the cockhead, he slowly eased back in again, and the return thrust was wonderful, ecstatic, unbelievable, nothing like the first invasion. Nothing but sizzling pleasure! Like my asshole is building up to an orgasm!
Out of control, I moaned and sighed. The pain was still there, but near faded away and somehow blended in, added to the bliss! I writhed under the man. God, this is wonderful! Like jacking off, but coming from MY ASSHOLE!! Even the pain is pleasure!
I love this! I love what he is doing to me! It hit me: He broke me in. I’m changed. My hips thrust back at him, driving him deeper.
“Yeah, you’re a natural,” he murmured. Gradually he picked up speed, and the pain faded away completely with his power strokes — and the pleasure grew even louder. Am I still drunk? — I feel smashed, out of my head!
The sounds drove me crazy — my own moans of delight, his grunts, the squeaking of the old bed, and the tapping of the headboard against the wall. I could stand no more! I let myself go, arching my hips up to meet his thrusts, grunting and panting along with him.
“Natural bitch . . . just as I . . . thought!” He moved into rapid, jackhammer jabs, driving me to frenzied grunts of pleasure. Somehow I knew he was close to climax (hell, I used to do the same short-jab stuff when balling my wife) — and I instinctively gripped my asshole muscles tighter, clamping him as hard as I could. Jesus, what am I doing?? I’m adding to his pleasure?? Is this some sort of automatic, instinctive, female response, the bolt trying to make the screw happy?
It earned me a compliment: “Oh, shit, man, that’s great! I love you clenching your as against my crank!” And he went over the falls, reaching his orgasm.
I felt every shot his crank fired through my backdoor, and I wouldn’t have thought that possible. Over and over his semen blasted deep in me, and I realized even my balls were in Craig’s power — without a single touch, without any jacking stroke, at the moment I felt his ejaculation, an orgasm instantly built up in me and swept over my body!
Helpless to stop it, I shuddered in ecstasy, spurting my own load over the sheets while taking his load up my ass. It was a fabulous, wonderful, magnificent orgasm! “Craig . . . ” I heard myself moaning, “oh . . God . . . Craig!”
Craig continued to hump me, the wetness of his load making his gouges easier and slicker, and I rode along, flying through sexual heaven on the rails of his thrusting roller-coaster. I felt like a rag doll flapping at the end of his big, hard cock.
Finally he slowed and collapsed on my back, but I was still in the longest, most intense orgasm of my life. While he lay on me panting and sweating, his cock softening in me, I was only half-conscious, still in the afterglow. The sheet under me was sopping with sweat and my sperm.
My asshole, once a tiny thing tucked up almost invisibly between my ass-cheeks, was suddenly a proud, stretched rubber gasket gripping his wonderful cock. His big crank began to soften, and a large gob of his semen slithered out around it and ran down the crack and over my scrotum. I’ve been bred. Sexual intercourse. No, this is fucking. He fucked me like a bitch.
His face pressed my shoulder blade, and he chuckled. “Can’t say you didn’t enjoy that, old man.”
I said nothing. I was still glowing in the sunset of pleasure. I crouched under him, breathing hard, feeling his hot, wet weight on me. God, what he did to me! Finally I collapsed to lie quietly under him — humiliated but not quite able to wish it had never happened. I sighed. Relaxed. Satisfied. I’m still calling the police. In a couple of hours. Maybe next week.
We lay like that for several minutes. I wondered what he would do next — embarrassed but eager — when I heard him snoring. The bastard is asleep on me with his cock still in my ass! God, I feel like a wife. Will the humiliation never end?? Trapped there, exhausted physically and emotionally, what the hell, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, too.
I awoke hours later to the feel of a hand groping at my buttocks. Slowly coming to, I first felt the wet sheet under me, realized I was naked, and suddenly remembered what had happened!
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