Page 29 of Blowing Off Steam

“Plenty,” Rushy said perversely.

Actually, it was Field who was drooling over the sight of the twitching prick. Only knowing it jumped at his behest kept Field from going over the edge and falling to his knees to inhale the delicious appendage. Field stroked the full length of it now with just the barest whisper of plumage as Rushy’s hips pumped the air. Field slapped the ass again. It was glorious to feel the resonance of the haunch muscle under his hand, to hear the full, meaty sound of his palm striking the heavenly flesh.

Was it his imagination, or was Rushy spreading his feet farther apart on the deck? Field aimed his next slap more squarely between the ass cheeks, and his fingertips grazed the full, taut balls. Damnation, if he could just fling this able-bodied buck across his lap and slap that bouncing ass into submission! He would probably shoot his own load first. “You like sucking on men’s cocks, don’t you, you depraved sodomite?”

Rushy said through clenched teeth, “I love sucking cock.” He flashed his hazel eyes at Field. “Which you’d know better than anyone…you twisted poof.”

This accusation both aroused and angered Field at the same time. Now he humped Rushy’s naked hip with his own clothed erection, and when he slapped the tight scrotum, his fingers lingered to fondle the full ball sac. Alternately slapping and then stroking between the powerful thighs brought out a sheen of sweat on Rushy’s forehead, and Field leaned in to nip his earlobe. “And do you enjoy screwing other men up the ass?”

“God, yes!” Rushy exploded. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Field replied, trying to maintain his cool. But damnation, he just wanted to frig that penis! He’d only witnessed Rushy ejaculating once. That was between Calliope’s teats, and he didn’t have much of a hand in that. How far would this glorious buck shoot his semen with his cock in Field’s massaging fist? “But I’d like to climb between your beautiful thighs and fuck you up the ass.”

Field was afraid he was becoming hotter than Rushy, so he wetted his middle finger with spittle. On his next slap, he stroked the anal sphincter while Rushy shuddered mightily and rotated his hips as though to jam the finger in tighter. When Field inserted the finger up to the first knuckle, Rushy cried out with eyes squeezed shut. Field, not knowing if it was a cry of pain or pleasure, sunk the finger in to the next knuckle and diddled the slick walls. Rushy panted rapidly, his face screwed up.

“How about that?” Field whispered in his ear. “Do you like that?”

Rushy whimpered something that sounded like, “I’ve never—” but Calliope was approaching them with authority, tightening another silk necktie between her fists.

Field was so dumbstruck by her figure his finger slipped out of his partner’s asshole, and Rushy sighed. Like a domineering seductress she was, brandishing yet another bond, one eyebrow quirked up—as though anyone would question her aims.

“Now,” she stated flatly. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson, you twisted deviant.”

“Calliope, please,” Rushy begged. “I’ve definitely learned my lesson. Just let Field suck my prick. Or you do it. I don’t care.”

“I don’t think so.” Calliope whipped the necktie around Rushy’s heavy, firm penis, cinching it around the base. It looked very tight, and the heavy penis pulsed with Rushy’s heartbeat.

“Oh,” Field said mildly. “She’s wicked.” He tickled the tip of Rushy’s purple, quivering cock with the ostrich plume, and it shuddered so wildly even the chock-full ball sac shivered.

“If you keep this up,” Rushy said in an odd, high tone, “the jism is going to back up into my brain and flood it!”

Calliope burst out in a tinkling round of laughter. It was made all that more ominous by the next item she brandished. It was shaped like a deer horn, only squatter and rounded at the tip, with tiny little Chinese characters sprinkled all over it. “You’re only going to wish your brain were flooded, my little tadpole.” She pressed her fingers into a tin of bear grease and slathered the object, which Field had now determined was ivory, a horn of sorts.

Rushy looked at it with apprehension. “Oh, damn it all to hell,” he said, defeated.

Cheerful now, Calliope slapped his ass, too. “Oh, you got more than you bargained for when you punished me, little boy. I’m the queen of punishment.”

“That’s right,” Rushy breathed, “you’re probably extremely experienced at punishment.”

Her eyes flashing with what appeared to be true anger now, Calliope slapped his ass again and again. “I’ll give you experience.” Her hand that held the object vanished between the bulkhead and Rushy’s ass, and when Field peeked around Rushy’s side, he could see she’d positioned it just at his rectum. “I’ll wear you into a frazzle, my little tadpole.”

She screwed the thing in, not mindful of tenderness as Field had been, and Rushy actually cried out. But again, Field couldn’t tell if it was from pain or pleasure. Her other hand batted away Field’s ostrich plume, and of all of the damned things, she began to slap Rushy’s poor laden cock!

How he twitched and turned then, as though trying to get out of his bonds! But his swiveling of his hips only seemed to screw the horn into his ass farther, and his keening howls seemed to be authentic. Why was Calliope so angry with poor Rushy?

“You like that, don’t you?” She sneered at Rushy. “You like having this big, fat dildo up your virgin ass.”

Dildo? Is that what that was? Field had heard of such things. Now Rushy was uttering in a strangled tone, “Land’s sake, you wildcat! Let me spend!” He pulled himself up by the bonds around his wrists, and every time Calliope slapped his massive prick, he flinched, driving himself back down onto the ivory dildo.

Field couldn’t help himself. Falling to his knees, he plastered his open mouth to the tight ball sac, taking control of the necktie cinched at the base of Rushy’s cock. Snorting and grunting with an entire testicle in his mouth, Field worried the whole morsel like a pig at a trough. Slathering the flat of his tongue against the mottled surface, he kept pace with Calliope’s screwing of Rushy’s asshole. He knew he sounded like a disgusting pig, and he didn’t care. He had his face buried in the sinewy, musky crotch of the most desirable man on the Sacramento River.

“Good God, people!” Rushy roared. “Calliope, you bitch,” he seethed. “I’ll have my revenge on you.”

This startled Field, but Calliope’s response was angelic. “Nevertheless, notwithstanding, tadpole. I think you’ve met your match in your partner.”

Out of one eye, Field saw the three of them in the mirror. Him on his knees in a subservient position, slaking his thirst at this delicious trough. Calliope shoving a polished elephant’s tooth up Rushy’s ass. And Rushy, as rangy and brawny ever, bucking and snorting like a caged bear. That delicious prick swinging in the breeze, begging to be sucked.

So Field did. Gripping it about the base with the silk necktie in his fist, Field nuzzled the shiny mushroom head of it. He inhaled, spearing it down his throat so deeply that he choked, and Rushy really did howl then, a long, drawn-out screech of pained ecstasy.