No Pole Big Enough

The tormenting satyr in front of me stood and turned and released my wrists and ankles. But I wasn’t free, not by any means. The dildo had been withdrawn, and my ass canal was now descending on the huge, throbbing tool of the satyr at my rear. He had lifted me off the floor with his strong hands and just sat me down on his cock.

He was monstrously big. Bigger than the escort I’d been sent earlier in the week. Both thicker and longer. I splayed my legs out, my feet finding leverage on the window between this room and the next. The satyr worrying my nipples now dropped and swallowed my balls, vibrating them with a maddening hum and sucking hard on them. I was crying out in ecstasy myself now. I hadn’t had a fuck like this for a year.

The plowing in the other room was still going strong, relentlessly. There was an obvious third spouting, and the little man’s eyes appeared to be swimming in semen and he was babbling to himself, completely lost in the experience, stuffed impossibly to the gills. The obvious inference to me was that, as ordered, these satyrs were determined to stuff me on a similar scale and to continue fucking me until I had my elusive orgasm.

That was all very nice, I was thinking, but this satyr wasn’t going to quite be able to satisfy me. But that’s not what they had planned. Now the satyr at my front was standing and then going into a crouching position, his thighs crisscrossing those of the satyr at my rear and his gigantic, hard tool now poised under me as well.