Page 40 - Titanic: The Untold Tale of Gay Passengers and Crew

26 Jack Fritscher

double-fisting his animal cock. Edward, who knelt only to
royalty, recognized the regal superiority of the noble savage,
and fell to his knees, his own 10-inch cock stiff enough to fly
the colors, his mouth open as wide as a choir boy stuck on
the jaw-dropping fourth note of “Oh, Holy Night.”
The Stoker roared.
The crowd roared.
Titanic roared.
I feared for Edward’s life and limb, but I knew he’d die a
happy death with his limbs all over the place. Slowly, savoring
his dripping gus to, the Stoker drove the full cir cumference of
his dickhead into Edward’s open mouth, hungry for the only
thing he had ever hun gered for in all his privileged life. First-
class dining was not upstairs. Downstairs, real life teemed.
The Stoker’s roar caused two men boxing hardon-naked
fifty feet away to stop their bare-knuckle fisticuffs.
Edward ate the apple-sized dickhead like Adam swal-
lowing in Eden. He dropped his jaw, fearful of scraping
the giant’s meat. The Stoker’s hairy body flexed, driv ing his
fist-dick in short, quick jabs and longer punches deeper into
Edward’s salivating mouth. Spit and sweat and lube dripped
shiny down Edward’s fine pecto rals and belly. He put his
hands on the Stoker’s huge thighs.
“You like my focking, uh?” He finger-locked his thick
hands around Edward’s head, hands so big I could see only
Edward’s nose and his straining mouth as the Stoker drove
inch upon inch of his bat tering ram, in, into Edward, al ways
in, never pulling back an inch, choke-fucking his face, pulling
finally back, pumping in and out, teasing open the back of
Edward’s mouth, the top of the tunnel of his throat, the hot,
wet, tight throat where the Stoker aimed to plant the root
of his cock that no man had ever swallowed whole before.