Mark gets fucked and double fucked until he can't help but shoot a massive load!!

Subway Savages - Page 3
by Jeff Kincaid
Art by Etienne
Series: Subway Savages

"Ain't nothing like a nice wide ass when it comes to my randy dick," Toby announced, not bothering with any more lubrication as he slammed forward at the hip, crashing Mark forward into the pole he was fastened facing, making him "ooff!" and "oomffhh!" And "Unnghh!" and "Aaoohh!" And "Hhukk--!"


The savage pelvis chugged and twisted as it rammed and hooked, the dark-haired body builder pile-driving hard against the cheeks of his draping victim's globular ass, his Levis puddled around his boots. For his part Griff thought it was better than any fuck tape either of them had ever seen, perhaps even better than any of the other five subway gang bangs they'd successfully perpetrated. I mean, there were now a number of shiny "cobwebs" dangling from the former college all-star's throbbing wang, proving beyond doubt that, whether Holton admitted it or not, his pecker was sure turned on!

On top of which, griff believed, Toby was maniacally inspired by this particular guy, his incredibly muscled body. Never had he seen his sweaty partner grind so good into anybody's sodden twat, man or woman. He punched, he twisted, he torqued, he grunted, cursing into Mark's ear as he fucked like a dog, huffing, puffing and calling Mark a cunt of the first order. "Told you you'd like getting dicked, faggot. Told you I'd send you to heaven."

So intense was his rhythm, so unstoppable and crazy, that there was no discernable pause even when Toby instructed his shaggy blond partner to release the belt from the pole, nor any when he fucked Mark down to the floor of the car, smearing him all over the place as he plowed with more ferocity into that gaping ass. Dribbles flew from the hunky businessman's open mouth, the tongue hanging out dog-like as the brutal assault continued, little monosyllabic hiccups which Griff chose to hear as, "fuck me, harder, fuck my ass, I need that ass fucked, man, I've been bad and I need fucking, hard fucking, nonstop fucking, yeah."

"You're getting fucked, all right," Toby gruntingly promised him, using his wedge as a crowbar to lift the panting Mark up across an adjacent seat. What was left of the silken shirt was now too small to even be visible, but the tie was still around his neck- something for Griff to grab onto as he decided to stop being a jerk-off observer and get his own horny pecker into the act. Why leave that nice open Holton mouth unused at a time like this?

"Mwauff," said Mark. "Mmuukk."

"Love it, baby," said Griff, going crazy because Mark's tongue was swishing over the circumference of his stalk and the teeth were nibbling so erotically around the ridge of his cockhead.

"I got an idea," Toby suddenly announced, snapping his fuck-stick out of Mark's bubbling man-cunt. "C'mon back." The direction was for Griff, of course, Toby sadistically thinking that, "hey, if this prick can take two big hands up his quim, shee-it, sitting himself down on two big pieces of hard meat at the same time oughtta be a cinch."

"Fucking A," as far as his equally sadistic partner was concerned, the sweat-slick muscle boys shifting into position. Mark's big blue eyes popped and another groan escaped the slackness of his open mouth; these maniacs were insatiable, never stopping. When would it be over? When would they have had their fill of him, of his magnificently constructed physique?

For the first time Mark Holton understood what it was like to be nothing more than a sex object, a body people just wanted to use. To abuse. "Haven't you done enough?" he asked. "I can't take two big dicks like that up my hole at the same time, I can't!"

"Sure you can, fuck-boy," he was told by both of his smirking tormentors, their harsh hands holding him over the combined thickness of their joint joints, lowering him. Lowering him.

The back-to-back cockheads, dripping and smeary, kissed the little pink button that was far from either little or pink anymore. They wormed their way through the elasticity of the bruised orifice, slipping through with little resistance, sliding Mark down the ten inches which was the length of their hardened shafts.

"Awwwwhh," he breathed, his belly sucked in with unbidden pleasure, his massive chest expanding from lat to lat, the tits pebbling, engorged with almost as much blood as his rampant rod, so hard that it bounced up at almost a 180 degree angle, higher than the winking belly button in his corrugated washboard. "Ooohhh...."

"Does the widdle cocksucker wanna cum, hmmm?" the question was put to the widdle cocksucker maliciously, by Griff, who looked over to his fuck partner and leered. "Should we give him permission?"

"To cum? I dunno," Toby snickered as both he and his pal reamed into the executive's wide-open ass pussy. "But one thing's for damn sure: this creep'd better not come without permission."

"Aaaahhh-!" Mark couldn't help it, nor stop it, nor did he want to try, the hell with what evil punishments might result: his cock was contracting as if it had a mind of its own, the balls in his tightened scrotum so high they almost disappeared into his pelvis. One more grunt, so loud one would have thought he'd been sot, and then the cum blew out of the pisshole in the cannonading prick, gigantic globs of it arc'ing through the air, onetwothreefourfivesix-seven-

He wheezed, the chest bellowing, the cords on his neck straining out, the veins on his biceps and forehead.


"Sonofabitch," Toby cursed, punching him hard, making him burp. "Did we say cum? Did we, you freak? You goddam homo asshole?" Another punch. Another.

"Easy," a snarfing Griff advised. "I got most of it." It puddled gray in his palm, thick and gloppy.

"What're we gonna do with it?" Mark's weary breathing below punctuated the question.

"Watch." Griff pushed their sweaty victim off their cocks, sprawling him while he made himself comfortable, kicking the backs of Mark's splayed thighs wider, exposing the gaping tunnel, the dripping wads of slimy good drooling down and around the bruised Holton ball sac. "A little extra lube."


Page 4 available on May 23


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