Bullet Through Your Face (improved format) Read Online Free PDF

Reflex, however, caused
his rectum to flinch, via such an intrusive invasion, but then Jory
approved, “Hull? I say this here fella’s one hail of a butt-fuck. Squeezes
up his butthole real tight on my bone! Why, I’se still say this boy’s the
blammed best cornholing I’se ever had!”
“And ya’s know what, Jor?” Hull replied, stroking steadily into
Gray’s mouth, “he kin suck a peter like there’s no tuh-marruh!”
“Shee-it, I’se-I’se-I’se think I’se gonna come alls-ready. Pinch
that butthole, boy! Squeeze it!”
Gray squeezed it, flexing intricate muscles he scarcely knew he
had. Then—
Jory’s fingers dug into his hips, his strokes faltering. “Aw, yeah, I
say yeah! I’se comin’ in this fella like a firehose!”
Gray wasn’t sure he agreed with the simile. More like a turkey
baster full of hot egg-drop soup being aspirated deep into his bowel.
Gray could feel it, he could feel the wet, gluelike heat spurt and then
settle. And, next, Hull’s own strokes accelerated. “Shee-it, git it, City,
git it! I’se gonna—”
    The entirety of Gray’s face seemed to swell shut when Hull
ejaculated into his mouth. It was a voluminous ejaculation. Long hot
spurts, like velotic pieces of spaghetti, launched to the back of his
throat.
“Fuckin’-A.”
    There was nearly an audible pop when Hull withdrew the
deflating—and elephantine—member, then his hand snatched
up Gray’s chin. “Swaller it now, City. Be a good l’il cock-suck
ands swaller it all. Swaller alls that good come right down inta yer
breadbasket ‘nless ya want yer eye digged out.”
    Gray didn’t want his eye “digged” out, so he “swallered.” And
what it was exactly that he swallered was something that reminded
him of a mouthful of hot, thin snot. He winced, nearly gagged, then
gulped.
    And down it went.
It left a warm, strangely minty aftertrail down his esophagus.
“Hail of a come, Jory. Fella sucks a peter better’n a fifty-year-old whore.”
“Take a cock up the tail just as good, I say,” Jory elucidated.
“Ain’t never, I say never, had me a cornhole so’s good. Came enough ta fill a milk bucket, I did!”
Gray pulled his finger out of Hull’s ass and was then allowed to
collapse to his belly. Chain links clinked. He could smell the fresh
excrement on his finger.
“Kinda neat, ain’t it?” Hull speculated. “I means he gotta belly fulla my come, an’ a butt fulla yers.”
“Yeahs,” Jory agreed. “Too bad it ain’t winter. All that come’d keep him warm.”
Gray’s cheek lay against the floor. Thank God it’s over. But . . . Exhausted, he turned over on his back, his Italian slacks bunched at
his knees. What he saw, absurdly, appalled him. Jory was using his
X’andrini black silk shirt as a rag to wipe off his genitals with.
“Man, that shirt cost two hundred bucks.”
    “Worth it,” Jory grinned. “You’s the best cornhole I’se ever had,
an’ this city-faggot shirt’s the best dick-wipe. Soft.”
Upside-down, Gray watched Hull stick his fat, deflated penis
back into his overalls. Then he stood up. “T’was a dandy nut, City.
You done good. An’ ‘cos you done such a fine job’a takin’ care’a us,
we’ll’se send Kari Ann up with some viddles fer ya.”
“An’ we’ll’se visit ya agin tuh-marruh,” Jory promised.
“Hopes ya like yer dinner, City.” Hull chuckled, turned,
then slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Come on, Jor. Let’s git
downstairs now’n git ta work on them cars.”
Their booted feet clunked down the stairs. A doorlock clicked.
Then Gray passed out.
“Wake up. Hey.”
    Something in a dream patted him on the cheek, jostled him. But
when Gray opened his eyes, he saw it was no dream at all. It was still
the same nightmare.
    Haltered breasts swayed. The girl’s face hovered over his.
“Wakes up there. I’se got some food’n water fer ya.”
Gray leaned up. At least the pain in his head didn’t feel as
pronounced, and as for the pain in his