Slave to Two Hung Masters

I gave a little cry as he pushed his hand into my ass up to the knuckles, spreading his fingers inside me, testing the limits of the stretch of my channel. He began to hand fuck me. I did everything I could to relax. I knew I couldn’t ask him to do anything he was doing. I knew the whole point was that he was in control and my role, as his slave, was just to take it. He was going to test my limits in this way to assure himself that I would take it. I closed my eyes and worked on controlling my breathing as he fucked me with his hand—a larger one than Kassem’s had been, the knuckles bruising my rim, my channel walls in convulsions over the unnatural invasion.

He pulled his hand out, and turning me to belly down on the table, he grabbed my wrists in his fists, forcing my arms over my head, saddled himself on my hips, thrust inside me and fucked me hard, brutally to his third ejaculation. I laid there and took it, silently. I dare not tell him I was enjoying it, even though, on several levels I was. I just lay there under him, taking the big-cock fucking. It didn’t matter that I’d taken his cock twice already. It seemed to grow with each fucking.