Date: Fri, 20 Oct 2006 12:14:46 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gunter Ragen <gruntraq@yahoo.com>
Subject: Gay - Authoritarian - Sailor and the Sergeant  10 - By Gruntraq

Sailor and the Sergeant  10 - By Gruntraq

Continued: "Squeeze your ass muscles around it!
Embrace the pain and quit crying. SQUEEZE IT!" Ritchie
commanded. As Chad laid there holding as still as he
could with the piercing awl in his ass with no relief
Ritchie sat on the couch and sparked another bong hit.

"I got to go work for a while. I haven't been making
any money in the past week.". Ritchie said. "You stay
here and keep that thing in your ass, we'll work on
the big one later tonight". Surfer then changed his
clothes and took off for the Red Baron. Chad was still
laying on the workout bench trying to get back into a
regular breathing rhythm while his hole training
session soaked in.

Ritchie hit the neighborhood bar and got into a game
of pool pretty quickly with a few of the locals. It
wasn't long before a familiar clean cut square jawed
face showed up. "Where you been man, haven't seen you
around for a couple weeks?" Ritchie remembered Doug,
he had the curved dick that was fun but challenging to
suck. When he got fucked by that curved dick it was a
different sensation that didn't get lost in the crowd
of guys he liked to service. "Oh, I took a little
vacation but I am here now", Ritchie replied. "How is
the car business.?" Doug was a "closer" at a local car
dealer who dropped in at the Red Baron once or twice a
week. He was in his early thirties with a very
athletic build, unusual for a car salesman. He had
been the total jock in high school and never lost the
chiseled and slab like physique. Always dressed in
slacks and a loose button up shirt with a tie, Doug
looked like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Ritchie liked
servicing him as he was a damn good looking guy and a
hard fuck. A rare combination in the world of a
hustler. "So you want to dance cowboy", Doug asked
with his familiar slow wanting tone. "Yeah, let me
take this last shot". Ritchie downed the last of his
beer and took aim at the cue ball, sinking another
solid. He handed off the cue to one of his friends and
they were out the door.

As Doug drove them toward the dealership in his truck
Ritchie was pinching and twisting the salesman's tits
through his shirt. His cock was straining in his black
slacks. Ritchie's hand had made its way to Doug's
throbbing  package they approached the lot. Like the
times before they drove past the pack of salesmen
gathered up front and made their way to the back
corner lot behind the main showroom building. In the
vast sea of dusty used cars a small shabby looking
mobile trailer office sat next to a large tented area
where the cars got detailed. It was the office where
the day time car detailers and lot boys hung out, and
is always smelled like a leaky roof and chemicals
inside. They made their way up the steps and Doug
unlocked the door. As soon as it shut and the lock was
turned Ritchie was on his knees grabbing at Doug's
belt and zipper. In seconds that fat curved cock was
swinging in his face. Doug was no man for romance, he
grasped Surfer's skull and stuck his meat into it and
began fucking his face. Ritchie knew how Doug liked
it, fast and furious. "Come on little bitch, keep up,
I want to feel you sucking me!" Trying to stay stable
Ritchie went to work trying to keep a good vacuum on
the thrusting bent cock as it poked at the left side
of this throat. Doug continued bucking at him like a
raging bull in a pen. Ritchie was just now getting to
taste his fat meat and taking in the scent of the
cologne the salesman always bathed in. After few
minutes of getting his throat fucked almost to
soreness, Doug pulled his dick from Ritchies face and
ordered, "Get on the desk! I am gonna fuck your head
off".

As Ritchie stood up and pulled his pants off, Doug
brushed all the crap on the desk aside with one hand
as he pumped his cock with the other. Still wearing
his shirt and tie, he helped Ritchie up on the desk
and raised his legs up as he saddled up to the Surfers
nest. Spitting heavily on his curved rod, and rubbing
his bitch's asshole wet, he probed him with the head
slightly. "You are so precious my little bitch", Doug
said as he sunk his meat into Ritchie's hot little
hole. Doug loved the sensation of fucking a man, a
pleasure he never talked to his little wife about.
Tighter, harder, and rougher. Ritchie squeezed his
ring around his master's tool as it started moving
back and forth at him. As Doug's wall of athletic
thighs began slamming him he wrapped his legs around
his buttocks and crossed them, squeezing the
linebacker in. His master was bucking him like a wild
bull in the court as the smell of butt sex filled the
small trailer. Doug's fucks always hurt a little as he
was rough as shit, but that bent cock always found
places in Ritchie that made him cum first. The rhythm
of butt-fucking was broken by the loud crack of a
stapler hitting the floor, knocked off the desk by
Ritchie's sliding body. His head was pinning the
telephone against the wall knocking the handset off.
He could hear the dial tone blaring in his ear while
he was getting butt slammed by this former football
hero. Doug's 8" inches of fat meat was pushing against
him with only spit and sweat, creating a friction that
was almost unbearable. It was minutes upon minutes of
a workout, SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP, the burning in his
asshole was building. Ritchie suddenly felt his
sphincter squeeze Doug's raging bull cock as he blew
his own load onto his stomach. Ritchie pooled his
fingers in his own goo playfully and licked them while
shooting sexy looks into the eyes of the man fucking
him raw.

Finally Doug pulled his meat from his bitch and pumped
his cock, squirting his heavy load all over the place.
He pumped much of his hot cum into the palm of his
hand, squeezing the last few squirts into a pool. "Sit
up!" he ordered Ritchie. As the Surfer sat upright
with his swollen asshole kissing the surface of the
cold metal desk, Doug stuck his hand in Ritchie's
face, ladling his hot load. "Eat my cum! Lick it up".
This was Doug's little fetish, he liked making his
bitch lick up his load from the palm of his hand.
Ritchie knew how to please. He ate up his man's
offering every time, licking his lips and making
convincing sounds of pleasure. As soon as his hand was
clean they were in the truck again headed back to the
Red Baron. As they got back to the bar, Doug flashed
Ritchie a fresh $100. bill and smiled at him. "Thanks
again!" Doug motored off in his Silverado as the
Surfer meandered back into the bar.

He had a good night. In the next two hours he managed
six beers and hit up another horny guy for the rent.
Two hundred bucks richer he decided to head home. As
he walked through the apartment door he smelled the
sweet odor of ganja in the air. Chad had been hitting
the peace pipe. "Where you been all night?", the naked
Sailor in the harness asked. "You know, paying the
bills", Ritchie said cryptically. "So how's your ass?"
Chad was sitting on the couch having had a the
man-splitting stainless steel butt plug strapped into
him for the better part of three hours. "I'm numb I
think, I can only feel the tightness, no pain" he
replied.

Ritchie smiled, "Good, then you are ready for a bigger
one but you have a big test tomorrow!" "So can we take
this thing out of my ass now". Chad finally asked.
"Yeah, but we only have a few more days till the
intiation with Sgt. Ramos and the crew, so we'll have
to open you up some more tomorrow." Chad laid on his
stomach , propping his ass up into the air with his
knees. Ritchie unbuckled the harness and let the strap
fall off to the side. The shiny stainless steel plug
was shimmering in the dim light. "Alright, squeeze it
out", Ritchie said. "What?", Chad questioned? "You
have to shit it out, it is not gonna come out on its
own." Ritchie instructed.  Suddenly feeling the
tightening burn on his squeeze-ring that had had not
felt since earlier in the day, he pushed on the awl
and began forcing the wider part past his gate.
Suddenly he was awash once again with piercing pain
that felt like ripping and tearing thin, his asshole.
Then like sand through an hourglass, it became a
slippery sliding sensation as the butt-plug fell out
on the bed making a "thoik" sound.

The cold air suddenly awoke his inner chute as his
hole was widely agape. Chad felt a rising burning raw
sensation as the blood began to rush back into his
sphincter. It was a road rash kind of burning
sensation that suddenly got soothed as Ritchie began
massaging a cooling lotion on his inflamed crimson
rosebud. It was now beginning to swell and close up,
but was allowing his fingers unimpeded access in an
around the bright red lips of his newly sized chute.
He continued rubbing the soothing creme on and around
his sore spot and they called it a night.

To be Continued

Comments Welcome - gruntraq@yahoo.com