Body Snatcher

Then at least three more times, with little relief between, he was standing between my legs and brutally ramming my ass with his cock in hard, deep fucks that took my breath away.

He released my arms and legs after the third fuck and picked me up bodily. I took what opportunity I had to feel his musculature, and I was sure then that he had been the divinely constructed heavyweight I’d seen eyeing the audience at the gym—and that, from the talkative victim’s description, he was the mass molester we were after.

At that moment, the case was solved as far as I could tell of what had happened to the Reardon and Connaut young men and also why the Fucking Monster was doing this. They said nothing, because they couldn’t admit that they had reveled in the fucking they got. And the Fucking Monster did it this way because he was so butt ugly in the face, he thought he had to do it in the dark and didn’t think any man would take him willingly.

This was nonsense, of course. With the cock he had on him, serious bottoms would stand in line to be fucked—and if darkness was required, they wouldn’t see that as a problem. But rationality obviously didn’t trump delusion in this case.

Where he carried me next was into a smaller, still-dark room, where he locked me in. It had a bed and a shower and a toilet. I have no idea how long he let me rest. But in time I heard the turn of a key in the lock and the squeal of a door on its hinges, and he was reaching down for me.

That’s when I gave him the surprise of his life. As he leaned over me, I raised one arm and wrapped it around his neck and brought his lips down to mine and gave him a deep kiss. My other hand went to his monster cock, which was already erect, and I moved that between my thighs and to my hole. With a thrust of my hips, I impaled my channel on his cock and wrapped my legs around his waist.