Page 62 of Believe in Caloosa Springs

I pulled Tian along behind me as we walked past Pops and Ty and then around my family to exit. “I never want to see you again,” I told Henry coolly as we passed by him. His mom wrapped a protective arm around him as I spoke. The traitor.

“Porter!” My mom started as we walked out into the chilly, open air. Her voice sounded desperate.

I paused and looked back over my shoulder. We made eye contact for a moment, and I thought she was going to say something else. Her mouth opened. Roughly, my father took her by the hand and propelled her past us towards the car. She craned her head to look back. Now, she was freely sobbing. My aunt leaned forward and muttered something low and quiet to her as the whole fam-bam climbed into the waiting minivan.

Trying not to focus on my mother’s broken expression through the glass, I turned away and threw my arm around Tian’s shoulders. I didn’t protest as he led me towards my car. I’d had enough of the farm for that day.

Two Months Later

Christian

I fiddled with the ends of the rope Porter had used to tie me to the stake. Bystake, I meant the wooden broom handle we’d stuck down into an old flower pot and then filled it with gravel. I loved how handy Porter was. He was good at rigging up all kinds of stuff for us. We’d gotten some weird looks from the hotel staff as we carried all this shit in from the hardware store. I smiled, imagining what they must have thought we were doing. I wonder if crafting a makeshift stake to fuck me over had crossed their minds.

I squinted at the GoPro on the tripod across the room to see if the light was on, then shivered as a chill ran down my naked body…what the fuck was taking him so long?

“Porter?”

Not ten seconds later, the bedroom door opened and Porter appeared, framing himself in the doorway. On his head sat a tall pilgrim’s hat adorned with a golden buckle. He was wearing a black tunic top with white fabric flaps draped around the shoulders, accompanied by black breeches that went down to his knees. The trousers overlapped knee-high white socks. He had cut the crotch out of the costume’s trousers, allowing his hard cock to emerge. The small silicone ring I’d affixed to the base ofhis cock a few minutes ago doing its intended job of keeping him thick and full.

I hadn’t seen him in the costume yet, and I was too late to stop the fit of cackles that took over. I turned my head to the side and bit my lip.Fuck, I was gonna have to edit this whole part out.

Porter donned a cocky half-smile and walked into the room, the head of his thick cock reaching me eight inches before the rest of him did.

“What do you have to say for yourself…witch?” Porter spat very convincingly.

I smirked. “That I hope the pagans and spiritualists don’t cancel us for this.”

Porter raised an eyebrow. “Flamingo?” he asked hesitantly, suggesting our cut word.

I shook my head and focused, clearing my throat and raising my voice an octave above my normal speaking voice.

“Isn’t there something I can do to prove that I’m a good boy?” I asked, keeping my voice high with fake pleading.

“The only way to save yourself is to suckle upon my holy scepter until you are bathed clean with the blessed seed of the Lord,” he intoned.

Porter skipped to the highest point of the stepladder he’d placed off to the side, more or less lining his crotch up with my mouth. He took the root of his cock into his hand and smacked the side of my face several times with his dick. Porter jerked himself enough to coax a small bead of pre-cum from his slit and wiped it across my closed lips like chapstick. My own dick stirred, tenting the loincloth I was wearing.

“Open your foul, silky mouth, devil.” Porter grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and held the base of his dick as he slid his fat tip past my lips. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out in the back of my throat, my lips smashed tight against the fingers he used to hold his base.

He held my head in place and his cock in my throat until I gagged on it. He pulled out slightly to let me recover and then pushed back in. He cradled my head in his arm as he thrust in and out of my throat. Choked tears misted my eyes, threatening to spill over as I willed my throat to relax. Porter pulled out of my mouth and I craned my neck to suck his balls into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Porter groaned, as I rolled his sack around my mouth with my tongue. “Suck my fucking nuts.”

The filthy talk and the taste of his skin had my dick standing straight up to my belly button. I let go of his balls. He grabbed my chin and tilted my face up towards him. He leaned over on the stool and spit into my open mouth before grabbing a fistful of hair and shoving his cock back down my throat.

I could feel myself dripping down my shaft every time the small fan in the corner oscillated towards us.

Porter was the sweetest, most caring person I’d ever been with. He was also the filthiest, which made me love him even more.

I found myself asking on a daily basis how I’d gotten so fucking lucky. Porter wasn’t the man of my dreams. My feeble attempts at imagining my perfect man had fallen drastically short of the miracle god had given me when he sent Porter crashing into my life with poison flowers and a lopsided smile.

I was pulled back to the present as my throat tightened up and Porter gagged me again.

“That’s right, you fucking heretic… I’m gonna suffocate you with my cock.”

My eyes began to water and my hips began to buck at the air, my weeping cock desperate for friction against…anything. I don’t know if it was the blasphemy or Porter’s forcefulness, but none of my enthusiasm was just for show. Raw need gripped my spine, adding a feverish element to the blow job.

Porter pulled his dick out of my mouth and slapped the side of my face with it, leaving a wet streak of spit and pre-cum across my cheek. Then, he made quick work of untying my hands from around the broom handle and ‘forcing’ me to bend over face-down across the side of the bed. Kneeling over the bed like that and spreading my legs gave the camera an unobstructed view of my hole. Porter reached down and slowly pulled the black plug he'd inserted earlier, making me moaned at the sudden loss and feeling of openness.

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