0 comments/ 41227 views/ 3 favorites Curse of the Black Porsche By: Coxswain Nothing is what it seems Dedicated to tampabayed * "Sorry, Eddie. That's just the way it is. Buck up, you'll get over it." He smiled like a poker player, no humor. "You'll find another cock to suck." "Chucky! Don't leave me!" When Ed heard the restroom door close behind his ex-lover, he pulled the stall door shut, put his head down on his knees, and cried. For one shining, glorious, but short time, he had been in safe haven. He raised his head and stared at the green metal door. Nobody loved him. I can say that in cold blood. Nobody loves me. He wiped his eyes with a square of toilet paper. The fucking black Porsche! Curse of the Black Porsche "What? No! That's not true!" It's not, it's not! I like muscular guys, athletes, big guys! The professor smiled: I am an old, tired, decrepit man." The smile turned satanic. "I have no love for you. I want only to defile your young body." He lowered his voice to the lion's purr again. "I want to stick this old man's cock into your ass. I want to make you scream with the joy--and you can hate yourself for it." Ed backed away from the table, horrified, but the reptile eyes held his like chains--he could not look away. "You will come back to me, Mr. Tampaya. You will come back for this!" Ed's glance fell back to the old man's crotch, and he moved a little closer. From the folds of Harris tweed, out of the open fly, sagged a huge, white worm. It's true! I was right! The professor's penis was indeed huge. It sagged from the plaid cloth a good seven inches. Soft and disgusting, it showed spots and discolorations like the old-age moles on the man's face. Even the veins at the surface writhed and undulated over the greasy-looking skin like diseased leeches. Although huge, it was the cock of a zombie. Cozzin's foreskin was fully extended, covering the cockhead and ending in an obscene tassel of loose skin at the tip. Hypnotized, Ed heard the professor growl, "There has never been a rape at St. Nieve. You will not be forced. You will come back to me when you have no other choice. You will come back to beg me to let you suck my cock." The smile bared his teeth, and Ed swore they were sharp, canine, predatory. "And I will breed you, Mr. Tampaya. You will become the next generation of your family to be my cum-slut." Ed turned and ran. Couldn't sleep that night. Tossed and turned. Visions of wrinkled, cancerous cocks floated before his eyes. A few hours before dawn, exhausted, he fell asleep only to writhe as nightmares of plague, disease, and infection burned through his mind. When the alarm went off to wake him for class, he came to groggily. He looked down--the morning wood. Of all times, this is one time I'm not going to jack off. He shivered. The very sight of that sickening, leprous, miscolored cock was enough to make him sick! And as those thoughts streamed through his head, Ed wilted in anguish. No! God, NO! Without touching himself, his cock blasted him into an orgasm, and Ed writhed in the bed, straining not to alert his roommates, helpless, choking down groans of white-hot pleasure. Huge spouts of sperm shot into the air to come down on his blue St. Nieve blankets. When he could finally think straight again, he bent his head in shame. God, I am a pervert! I am sickening! I hate myself. His cock spurted a final ejaculation, a tail-end jolt of pleasure. Ed did not have a class with Professor Cozzin for the rest of the week, so the time was spent in fantasies--actually fighting fantasies, straining to keep his mind on anything but the terrible, horrifying pull tugging at him, a suction dragging his thoughts out of his control, drowning him in the bitter taste of testosterone and stomach bile--and old-man smells. Nothing was a relief. At table in the mess hall, he saw outlines of Cozzin's disgusting cock in the contours of the mashed potatoes. Staring blankly at classroom walls, he saw a discoloration in the plaster that resembled Cozzin's trouser fly, complete with a sagging white obscenity below it. Even sitting in the grass in the commons, trying to liberate his thoughts, all he could think of was the hundreds of grass blades stabbing at his bare legs--Why, oh, why did I wear the shorts-uniform today??--needling him like hundreds of cocks lunging at him, trying to violate him, spawning goose-bumps all over his body. Breathing hard, Ed staggered back to the barracks and dropped a coin in the pay phone. "Hello, Professor Cozzin? -- Yes, this is Tampaya -- Yes, I know -- Yes. You're right -- Yes, I will -- Whenever you want." Breathing even harder, he hung up the phone, and like a robot, he walked out to the black Porsche and drove several miles down the road to a tavern. Inside he spotted Professor Cozzin in a booth at the very back. He walked over. "Sit down." He did. "You sounded desperate on the phone." Again, Ed found himself breathing harder. "You gotta help me. I don't know what you did to me, but--God, Professor, I'm a nervous wreck!" "What do you want?" With those words, Ed's whole life, his vision, his hearing, even his sense of touch narrowed down like a microscopic close-focus. He could see, hear, and speak only through a tiny hole in the blackness. "I want"--his voice squeaked--"to suck your cock!" Then everything went black. Ed came to only when he heard "Come with me." They left the restaurant, Ed walking behind like a servant. At Cozzin's car, an old Austin-Healey 1000, British sportscar from the Sixties, old school. small, light, and powerful, Ed looked down at it sadly. Red. Big Peter Red. He shoehorned himself into the passenger seat, and they took off. Out of sight of the tavern, the professor reached across the transmission hump and rubbed Ed's crotch bulge. "You had no choice, you know. The cock, the male organ, is the only truth you know." Ed pulled back from the groping hand, but the Healey was too small. He was trapped in the close quarters, in the small bucket seat. The Hand gave him a hardon. Jesus, overpowering the black Porsche. The professor lived in a house some distance from the road. They walked together up the steps. Cozzin opened the door, and Ed walked in slowly. He looked around. Like a cow looking around at the walls of the slaughterhouse. Cozzin went to a closet and hung up his overcoat. He walked back toward Ed, pulling off his jacket, unbuttoning his vest. "Get ready for me," he growled. "What?" "Take off your clothes!" The professor pulled open his pants and let them drop. Ed gaped. Cozzin wore the most obnoxious jockstrap Ed had ever seen. Covered with yellow stains, it had holes in the pouch and ragged chunks missing from the waistband as if it had been gnawed by rats. Dark patches looked like mold. God, it's sickening! Cozzin pulled the pouch aside, releasing the nauseating white worm, which uncoiled, slithering down between the old man's legs. The professor's voice was sharp and crisp. Like the battalion commander's. "What do you think of my cock, Mr. Tampaya?" Ed looked at him hopelessly. "What do you think of my cock!" Ed gulped, his throat dry as sand. "It's"--his voice cracked--"great." "So take your clothes off, and let's get naked." Dumbly, confused, Ed pulled open his shirt, unbuckled his pants, and unzipped. He kicked off his shoes, shucked the shirt, and the loosened pants dropped to his ankles. Cozzin smiled. He nodded when Ed hesitated at the underwear. With a sigh, Ed pulled down his briefs, and his cock slapped up hard and ready. He looked up, blushing. My cock's not so little. But he was panting. Ohmigod! His first sight of the professor's cock at full graduation. The foreskin had retracted from the cockhead, a plum-colored tumor shaped like a peach and radiating a heat Ed could feel from across the room. "Tell me about my cock," he ordered. Ed was breathless. "It's--it's big! Bigger than I thought." "What else?" Ed choked, fighting for control. "It's--beautiful!" "Then get over here and suck it." Breathing even harder, Ed gasped, "No! Don't want to! I got to--got to straighten out--confusion with you"-- "So why are you standing there with a hard cock?" Ed looked down, blushing. "But--but like I say"-- "Stroke that big thing and tell me you're only here to talk." Again like a puppet, Ed's right hand dropped to his crotch and he began to jack off. "I've come here,--he cleared his throat--"Professor Cozzin"--he paused as the pleasure of the act spread through him--"I'm here to"--again he lost control, could only let out a groan. He was much hornier than he'd thought--"to tell--to tell you I don't want--don't want to--Ohh, my god!" As the professor watched him, Ed's knees collapsed and he was overcome with an orgasm. His cock spurted out joyous lines of sperm as he crumpled, ecstatic, on the floor. When he recovered, he looked up. Cozzin's huge rod still bobbed in the air, and Ed's own body had betrayed him, reduced him to a slutty perv who came at the very idea of sucking the big cock. "Beg me." The horrible words! But he was helpless. "Let me suck it." "Louder. Beg me!" "Please, please let me suck that big thing. God, I'm hot for it!" Cozzin spread his legs. "Are you sure? I haven't had a bath for a week. My crotch smells rotten. Don't have any rubbers, either. You could get diarrhea." Ed's face turned white. "No. Oh, no!" His voice was a cracking squeak, his eyes wide. "But it's just what you want, you craven piece of shit. You want to feel like the slime on the outhouse floor, don't you? Know what else? I'm an old man; my cum is dried up and clabbered. It comes out like chunks of sour cottage cheese. You're going to choke on it!" Ed gasped, gagging, ready to puke. "So beg me, cum-slut. Beg me to let you suck it!" Ed crawled across the floor on his knees, and suddenly he got a whiff of the old man's crotch--and the abominable jockstrap. Like rotten-egg gas. Nauseating! But he felt his cock throbbing so hard, he looked down. Ohmigod, I'm hard! And big! That's a good seven inches! "Yes! Yes, you're right. I want to suck that thing, I want it in my mouth. I want it down my throat. Oh god, please let me suck it!" And as if thanking the demonic teacher, Ed kissed the ugly phallus worshipfully before he took the big cockhead slowly into his mouth. He also reached down to grope and massage Cozzin's shapeless, octopus-like scrotum. His tongue rasped against the pleasure-button just under the flare of the old man's big glans, and the professor grunted in approval. Cozzin then pushed the big thing past the roof of Ed's mouth, on beyond to his throat, and when Ed gagged, he hissed, "Swallow! Swallowing trumps the gag reflex!" After a few tries, Ed was astonished to feel himself deep-throat the professor's big dong, and he gloated in his sluttishness, his cock iron-hard, the black Porsche powerless, outside in the rain. The professor seized Ed's head in both hands, fucking his face. his dong sliding in and out, and Ed looked up, obedient, submissive, docile. And when Cozzin groaned he was cumming, Ed closed his eyes, gulping as the monster filled his guts and his mouth with sperm. Ed savored the taste, and it was good. Smooth, slippery, warm. Like salty, slimy wet corn chips. And that set off Ed's own orgasm, and he fell back on the carpet, groaning in ecstasy, spurting his own jism--anti-Porsche white. It was wonderful. When he came to, he crawled to his feet and sat on the arm of the couch, panting. but Cozzin wasn't finished. To Ed's astonishment, the old man hadn't lost his erection. He pushed Ed back onto the couch cushion, positioning him like an Evel Knievel jump-ramp, weight on his neck and shoulders, torso arched up to his butt on the couch's arm. Ed's legs dangled down, putting his back in a very uncomfortable position, but before he could move, Cozzin grabbed both his feet and lifted them up, spreading them wide like a motorcycle's handlebars. "I have no rubbers," he growled, "and I'm an old man. Fucked a lot of people in my time. Had to get penicillin shots when I was in the Army. God knows what bugs I've got now." Ed gasped as the old man leaned down over him. He felt the big cockhead nudging at his asshole. "Say it, Ed! Beg me to fuck you!" A fucking nightmare! Ed clenched his teeth, his guts on fire--but he couldn't live without a big cock up his ass! "Yeah! I gotta have it! Fuck me, oh, please fuck me, you son of a bitch!" Cozzin lunged, and Ed got the glorious pain of a big pendulum stretching his ass. Thrills and shivers! Ecstasy up and down his body! So long! Oh god, it's been so long! Eyes clenched shut in pleasure, he heard Cozzin's rooster-crow. "Fuck, yeah! I LOVE--to RIDE-- a MOTOR--cycle, ungh, ungh, ungh!" He sawed Ed's legs back and forth like riding a chopper down a winding road. "RIDE--ing, RIDE--ing, RIDE--ing! Never saw a motorcycle I could fuck, though." Ed's cock was iron-hard, sticking out of his grown like a gearshift, and Cozzin's eyes were beady, glittering. "We got us a four-speed transmission, Mr. Tampaya. Put me in first gear." Ed reached down, grabbed his cock and pushed it to the left and up. Cozzin started thrusting slowly, gently. After a few strokes, "Now put me in second." Ed pulled his cock back toward him, and Cozzin's strokes grew faster and deeper. Ed himself couldn't help stroking the gearshift. A hoarse grunt: "Third gear!" Ed jerked his cock to the right and up, and Cozzin's rod started to get to him. He writhed, happy to be a fuck-cycle, the pain of his back contributing to the crescendo of physical sensations. "FOURTH GEAR!" Ed no longer had control of the transmission, could only jerk his hard meat to the rhythm of the big engine above him, gradually losing his mind. With each in-stroke Ed's rectum spasmed happily around the big invader, squeezing at it, inceasing Cozzin's pleasure and heightening Ed's own pleasure, raising the skin-on-skin friction to bliss level. After some 10 minutes of the hottest motorcycle ride, Professor Cozzin felt the magic trigger. His balls tightened up and he gasped, "Get ready, here it comes!" then, "Take it, bitch!" All Ed's thoughts focused on the cock lunging up into his body, and Ed spiraled into a pleasure-ride of his own--Ohh, god, yeah! It was good to be a bitch! Finally, with robotic jerks, out of control, out of his mind, the ancient professor risked his own heart attack as he savaged the young body below him, his cock throbbing so hard Ed could feel it through his asshole. Cozzin leaned over, reaching down to grab Ed's shoulders, and he froze, balls-deep, howling a long, agonized groan. A Katrina of hot semen surged through Ed's guts, filling in cracks and crevices, pumping him full of sperm, forcing Ed into a hurricane of his own ecstasy. Both men collapsed in orgasmic bliss, barely conscious, floating on an ocean of physical joy. Professor Cozzin was first to speak. "Jesus Christ!" Ed opened his eyes. "My god!" Cozzin's sweat dripped onto the younger man. "Gotta hand it to you," he panted, "best fuck I've had in years!" Ed's voice was a drunken murmur. "Good. Fuck me. You--fucking good. I--your bitch." As his head cleared a little more, "Fuck me, beat me, treat me like shit, you bastard--I love it!" Cozzin rolled to the side, off onto the floor, and Ed rolled off the couch to join him. They lay together on the floor for a long time, enjoying the wonderful afterglow. Then Cozzin looked over at Ed. "Not to worry about the germs, son. The university health insurance is so fucking worried about doctor bills on a man my age, they have a coven of nurses follow me around. If I have so much as bad breath, I get a shot." He looked into Ed's eyes. "My jism is so healthy it's probably anti-bacterial. All you got was a little protein you don't have to chew." Ed brought his face up to meet the professor's, and their lips came together. The two men spent a long, dreamy time in a deep, wallowing, tongue-wrestling kiss. Their arms around each other, they hugged, wallowing their bodies together in the slime of combined sweat. After a long while, Professor Cozzin rolled onto his side, rose up on one elbow, and looked down at Ed. "Listen to me, Mr. Tampaya, I'll only say this once." His face was grim. "You are okay. You are not damaged goods. You are not hated." "What?" "You know what I'm talking about. I don't know what it was--bad parents, teasing on the playground, beat up in restrooms, whatever. People saying you're shit." He looked into Ed's eyes. "Somehow they swung you to their side." "No, that's not tr"-- "Yes, Mr. Tampaya, look inside. You hate yourself, don't you." It was not a question. "If you enjoy being a bottom and like a cock up your ass, that's okay." He paused. "It's okay! That's not inevitable, though. You are not here to be humiliated." Professor Cozzin reached down and pinched Ed's cheek. "We went through this tonight so you can see where it goes. And maybe give you some choices. "Don't believe what people say. Whatever they did to you, you are still okay." He placed his hand on Ed's cheek. "You are okay. You don't have to beg people to fuck you. Take some time, get yourself sorted out. You'll meet somebody who will be your friend." The professor got up, and they put on their clothes. Cozzin drove Ed back to the tavern for his car. There was not much conversation in the car; too many thoughts to digest--somehow everything had been said. Before Ed got into the black Porsche, Cozzin kissed him again, long, deep--but gently. When he broke the kiss, Ed actually staggered, falling back into the car. For six months Ed dropped out of social activities. Did a lot of reading. Joined a health club. Did a lot of training, buffed himself up nicely. One day he met the baseball team's backup catcher, hunky guy named Archer. He bought Archer a few beers. They had a few laughs. A few weeks later, after a game of pool, Archer went off to the men's room, and Ed decided to make his move. After the traditional sideways glances, cautious displays of hard cocks, and the ultimate Gotcha as Archer was caught staring at Ed's sizeable hardon, the friendship developed into intimacy. A little later, in Ed's bedroom, Archer gasped with Ed's hard cock up his ass, groaning into the pillow, "Ohhh, God, I never dreamed! God I feel wonderful! From my asshole! Never could've imagined!" Ed bent down to nuzzle at Archer's ear. "We're going to take care of each other from now on, my friend." And a new world opened up. Ed had the Porsche repainted Old Jockstrap Yellow. ~~~ ~~~ ~~~