The Gruesome Twosome - Sex Stories

The Gruesome Twosome

... gazed at the unknowing innocent face of the somewhat farcical site of a man clutching the steering posed with an extremely visible erection. Ryland looked back. Grinding his teeth to no avail. “Should’ve bought gum” Ryland murmured through clenched jaw. Max began to stroke his throbbing cock. He readjusted himself on his seat, he needed to be in the prime position to be able to maximise palm to cock-skin ratio. Ryland started to sniff the air, it was a scent he was used to. Pre-cum. He scrounged his face, he did not appreciate the taste. He turned to Max. “What the actual fuck are you doing?” he enquired. “Jacking off.” was the reply. “Think you’re trolling? I can smell your cock you fucking queer.” This got Max even harder. “Like I know we do gay shit with one another? But do you really think so?” His breathing quickened. “I don’t think I’m gay man, I love the pussay!” His hair stood on end. “But I mean, what defines a friendship?” And then. “You need to help me man, I think that spider bite is going to kill me. If I don't get that whore to suck the poison out.” Release. “I could always suck the poison out, come on you bitch, I’m still up for it.” They kiss. “No, fuck you.. A whore will do it.” His heart rate rising rapidly, he choked on the marshmallows as he had in a state of panic, inhaled sharply. His face turned red and he started gasping. Max, suffering an intense flashback to a threesome at a festival, was reminded of gasping and immediately started to feel that ...

... familiar tingling sensation. At this point Ryland was flailing erratically and begging for help as best he could. He threw a nearby bag of soap bars to the floor in order to get Max’s attention. “Hey Ryland? Why did you just drop those soap bars?” Max asked in a jokingly, and oddly sincere seductive tone. “is it because you want to be banged in the butthole?” Max considered this for a second. He could rape Ryland. He mightn’t. Ryland began to shove his fingers down his throat. He couldn’t reach the blockage. His time was running out, all because he had no hope of reaching the marshmallows. But Max did. “Maxie to the rescue!” for some inconceivable reason, Max could not contain his unclean thoughts and in a torrent of the most vile display of friendship, he grabbed his cock and jammed it down rylands throat. Contact. The sheer force of Max’s niggercock dislodged the marshmallow. Ryland felt the blockage move into his stomach and then proceeded to gulp for air, drawing in Max’s penis deeper within, before finally tasting fresh air. The psychedelic episode that followed escapes the descriptive power of our language. Ryland stares at Max for a while before beginning to shake and froth at the mouth. He slumps over to his left and falls on the ground. Max hurriedly rushed to his side, “Hey fag, you ok?” “Yeah dude,” Ryland replies, wiping his lips, “it’s just your cum!” It occurred to Max that the near-death experience had forced Ryland from the closet he was hiding in for all these ...