Page 43 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

Titanic! 29

like a conqueror barbarian, lifted Edward gently up,
suctioning his dick out of Edward’s throat, vacuuming
up, popping finally the deep probe of his cockhead from
Edward’s grin ning lips. His eyes fluttered open.
“Am I dead?” he asked.
“Not yet,” the Stoker said.
“Good,” Edward said. He spoke like a drunk happy on
champagne. “We have another 2 inches to go.”
“Focker!” the Stoker said. “But we reverse engines.”
Bodily, he lifted Edward like a doll in his big-muscled
arms above his head. His huge cock staffed its full 14
inches straight up 80-degrees dead ahead. Without so
much as a quiver in his massive shoulders and chest and
legs, he held Edward, his big hands in his armpits, his
gnarled thumbs on his lean chest, like a conquered toy sol-
dier above his head. The Stoker’s cock drooled shine. His
dick was a bulkhead as magnifi cent as Titanic’s jutting
straight up, so erect its very skin stretched paper-thin
over its ropes of veins and sinew. The tip of his cockhead,
poised, waiting, drooling, dripping, flexing, like a ram
awaiting its target to come bulls-eye to it.
I didn’t need Mr. Muybridge to get the picture.
The still tableau of this pas de deux froze in the red-
dark of the hold for an eternity of sec onds. The crowd fell
back, then forward, a hundred hard cocks masturbating
at the sight, shoot ing up at them like flares in the night
signaling the collision as the Stoker, slowly lowered
Edward, ass-first, down through the arc of distance to
the ice-hard head of his steaming cock.
The Stoker guided Edward’s tight butthole straight
down his slippery dick, its head popping the rim of
Edward’s skilled ass-ring, snaking, serpentine, deeper

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