Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Jerry Gets Mac

Jerry grabbed Mac around the back of the neck and pushed him with all his energy towards the ground. Jerry could feel his teeth grind together and his lips pout so hard they hurt. Mac resisted at first but then he began to shake, with the resistance he was putting up against Jerry's arm. Mac groaned, as Jerry groaned, with the strain until his legs gave way and he collapsed down onto his knees on the floor with a clunk. Jerry dug his fingers into the base of Mac's skull as he pulled him along the floor towards him. Mac's kneecaps clacked on the wooden floor, as he tried to walk on them, but Jerry pulled too hard and Mac kind of skipped and tripped as he was dragged along.

"You are disgusting," Jerry spat. He rubbed Mac's pointy nose along the crack in his arse. Mac grunted in revulsion up behind Jerry.

"Go on eat it you little Jesus misfit, you piece of filth, you know you want to."

Jerry slid Mac’s face up and down. Jerry stuck his arse out like he might if he was taking a shit in a field.


Jerry was bigger than Mac, more muscular and easily dominated him. When Mac’s chin was above the top of Jerry’s arse cheeks, Jerry forced Mac's face downwards again, like cheese on a grater. Jerry ground Mac’s pointy nose down. Mac’s beak hooked the elastic of Jerry’s briefs sliding them right off him, Jerry could feel Pinocchio’s point parting the dark sea just as Mosses had done.


Jerry pulled Mac’s face hard into his crack.

“Lick you little homophobic fuck! Taste it!”

Mac whimpered as his mouth fell open and his tongue protruded like a fat, pink slug.

“This is the last time you slag off gay men for being gay men,” whispered Jerry. “The last time you make others lives unhappy with your lies... when all the time you are...”

Mac grunted in the affirmative and pushed his engorged tongue as deep as he could into Jerry’s crack, as though he was feasting for the first time on forbidden fruit, which he was.

“Fucker!” moaned Jerry. “I knew you wanted to, you little bitch.”

Mac lapped in a frenzy like a starved cat at a saucer of milk.

Jerry ground Mac's face as if he was grinding it into the dirt. He moaned loudly as Mac did his work.

Mac licked; his mouth, his cheek, his chin wet with his own saliva.


Jerry turned suddenly and grabbed Mac by his armpits and lifted him up until they were face to face. They held each other’s gaze. They both scowled, breathing heavily. Still. Silent.

Mac smiled. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Jerry tousled Mac's hair. “I want you to be a missionary. An Amish boy.”

Jerry’s mouth was suddenly on Mac’s, kissing him passionately.

“Dress me up as Poland and invade me,” said Mac, panting.

“Where’s your boy scout uniform? I wouldn’t look so good with a small black moustache.” Jerry ran his two fingers from the bottom of his nose to his lip.

“But the uniform would make me wet.”

“You’d give me your cookies.”

Mac grabbed the sides of Jerry's face with both his hands and kissed him long and slow.

“I want you to use me as your toilet,” Mac said, imitating a vampire.

“Suddenly you sound like Igor.”

Mac pulled his arm up so that his hand was under his armpit. He contorted his face and breathed heavily and noisily. “Master! Use me as your slave boy.”

Jerry pushed Mac up against the wall and explored the inside of his mouth with his tongue.

Jerry laughed as they pulled apart. “You taste like my arse,” he said in a Cockney accent.


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