Page 20 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

6 Jack Fritscher

hands, I played their four tits like a bumblebee concerto
for twin pianos. Edward pumped his long, sleek, thor-
oughbred horsecock with his hand, the way he pre ferred
to control his cuming, unless it was, as it had usual ly
been from the start, shoved up my ass the way he’d first
reamed my hole with his long rod the rainy Oxford af-
ternoon we’d met at the foot of Christopher Wren’s Tom
Tower in the great quad of Christ Church.
His 10-inch cock for the first three months was 3
inches too big for me, and then, sud denly, he said he loved
me, and my cheeks spread, my hole opened up, and he
drove his 10 inches to the hilt deep into me. Light, blind-
ing as dawn piercing a rose window, illuminated me from
my asshole to my head. The best measure of any big cock’s
true length and width and volume is the measure a man
makes of it clamped deep inside his butthole. Vlad the
Impaler had nothing on Edward Wedding. “And I love
you,” I said.
Edward’s forceful sucking was too much for Felix
Jones who had never been throated so skill fully in all
his life in Wales. As he began to cum, he began to shout.
He was really quite amusing. To silence him, I screwed
my own cock down his face as far as I could thread my
thick 8-inch piece of Boston pipe. My cum burst down so
deep inside him, his shouting turned to moaning. Cum
spurted from his nose and his mouth. His tongue licked
clots of hot white seed from his red moustache, and his
green eyes widened in a kind of awed gratitude. (I like
to think.) The sight and feel of dripping cum and spit,
mixed with my telling Felix to grab hold of Edward’s tits
and squeeze-roll them as tight as he could, caused my
masturbating Edward to shoot the load from his 10-inch

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