Curse of the Tan Tan

The teeth. The teeth. It felt like only pin pricks, but increasingly Philip felt the sucking sensation, the feeling of flowing. His blood, flowing out of him. Draining from him.

The beast was making a low humming sound, a soothing sound—almost a lullaby tune. Enjoying its feeding in every way. And, having bottomed out and given Philip’s passage walls an opportunity to stretch to him, the beast began lifting and lowering Philip on that massive cock. the black silk cape was rippling around the two of them, caressing Philip’s bare arms and shoulders. One of the beast’s large hands encased one of Philip’s pecs and a thumb and forefinger were applying and releasing pressure on a nipple to match the rhythm of the gentle fucking and sucking. the beast’s other palm was on Philip’s lower belly, holding the young American close to him, and long sensuous fingers stretched to either side of Philip’s cock and applying rhythmic pressure to veins at the base of Philip’s cock that caused him to harden and ejaculate quickly and then harden quickly again and ejaculate again.

For the first time in his life, Philip did not have control. He was being played and drained. Completely defenseless and becoming increasingly so.

Philip was losing interest in escaping. The fuck was glorious, and he was growing weaker and more disoriented, but, at the same time, rising in arousal. The beast was filling him, deep, with one long, flowing ejaculation. And Philip’s own cock was being milked again and again with great expertise and satisfaction.