Page 86 - Leather Blues

74 Jack Fritscher

my wrist and guide me out at your own pace.” The man’s
fingers didn’t move. “Pull me out,” Denny said.
“I can’t. Jeez. I fucking can’t.”
Denny motioned to the dark circle of men. “Hold both
his arms back,” he commanded.
“Oh no,” the man moaned.
“Hit him with popper,” Denny said. A look had come
over his face. “I’m going back in, all the way to my elbow,
and make my exit from there.”
The crowd of men circled in and held the big mountain-
man’s blond body down, steadying his arms and legs and
cradling his head. Unseen hands, expert as a puppet master,
worked the chains pulling the clamps on his tits, following
every move Denny made.
“Come on, man,” Denny said. “You’ve had your fun.
Now I want mine.” He pushed his fist through the ring of
asshole. “Re-entry, fucker.” He smoothed it through the
first chamber, then finessed it through the deep inner ring
that leads further into the belly. “Feel my fucking big arm,”
Denny said. He paused, held, insistent, then slipped in three
more groaning inches. The big blond looked up at Denny
with incredible tender thanks. Denny held his depth-thrust
for one of those long, silent moments when time stands still.
Body heat melted the two men into one connected being.
Then Denny began to breathe again. He unclenched and
reclenched his deepfist and started the slow, steady, even,
careful slide down and out of the man’s butt, suctioning
out of him the gut-deep wild animal cries of the serious fist-
fucker. The whole movement took only a few seconds. The
man was still roaring as Denny stood back to watch him
writhe in the many hands holding him.
“Let him go,” Denny said. Hands released his feet from
the stirrups. His legs slid down the outside of Denny’s thighs.
The tit clamps disappeared. Denny leaned in over the man,
and pulled him up to a sitting position. Their arms wrapped

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