The Lake House Pt. 02

Mitch then lifted me up and carried me onto the bed. I lay on my back and watched in awe as he quickly shucked off his cargo shorts and t-shirt, and saw the rising tumescence drawing up from his plaid boxers. He crawled onto bed with me and caressed my naked stomach.

"So sweet. Such a sweet little thing." His hand ran from my belly around my haunch, where he began to fondle and squeeze my pantied ass.

"Anyone ever tell you you got a real sweet keister, sissyboy?" I just lay there, letting him molest me, wriggling in embarrassment.

"Huh?" He barked, slapping my hip, demanding an answer.

"No, Boss Sir." He brought his big stubbled face up to my chest, rubbing his maw around the silk bra and my heaving chest beneath.

"Yeah. You ain't got a man's ass, No Siree. You have a little sissy pussy." He growled into my chest, using his jaw to move the C-cup out of the way and clamp his teeth down upon my exposed nipple. I gasped.

"A sweet little sissy pussy, Big Moose'll show ya." With the hand between my legs he displaced the panties and jammed 2 thick fingers into the cleft between my cheeks. They found and breached my hole. I stifled a cry and inhaled, jolted by pain.

"You wear those pretty panties around a real man like me and you know you're going to get finger-banged." He spit loudly on his fingers then plunged them back between my legs, stabbing them into me. His big body held me down, and he ripped apart the bra containing my pectorals, feasting upon my bare chest and my engorged pink nipples. I looked down at his big balding head as he mauled me. I had almost no hair on my pecs, and as he worked them with his mouth, drawing the nipples out, expanding them with his merciless bites until they were swollen and slick with his spit it really looked like the man was sucking on a pair of woman's tits.

He gobbled and slobbered upon them, making me cry out, moan shamefully in pain and ecstasy. His fingers continued to play around in my hole, opening a new space in a place on my body that had never been visited before. As he tormented my breasts I bucked my hips off the bed futility. Mitch pinned me to the bed with his hulking form. He chortled at the womanly sounds I made, his voice muffled against my bothered bosom.

"You're gonna get butt-fucked too, just you wait, sissy." He sat back up on the bed, reared his head back, his lips and chin shining with his saliva, and continued to stretch his fingers into my hole, finger-banging me like a woman. Their thick presence hurt but I wanted more, and I felt myself pushing back against the intrusion.

"Here comes Big Moose." Mitch growled, playing with himself, rubbing liquid on his rampant red erection. He crowded between my legs, folding me up and sticking his hard-on. He seized my thighs and pulled me to him, pressed me close against him. His big boner knocked around my hole, sniffing and poking around like a hound's snout.

"Don't worry sissyboy. It'll only hurt at first." He cooed, jamming himself into me. I was breached. I cried out, wailing and begging for him to stop, to retreat. Mitch wouldn't hear any of it, laughed in my face as I pleaded, and placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, pushing me down into his gnarled red invader. I felt true panic- Mitch was huge. Something so big could truly wound me, break some hidden part of me. I tried to wriggle free from the cage of his broad body.

"Aww come on sweetheart, you can take it. Push back against it, push back, that's it." He goaded me on. I put my hands beneath his hairy shoulders, feebly tried to lift his huge form off of me. Mitch laughed, catching my hands, squeezing them in his. He looked me in the eyes as he held my hands, and I followed his advice, pushing out against his thick, conquering prick, exhaling out a deep breath. Pushing out seemed to allow him to enter even deeper, to slide further into my guts.

Still holding my hands, he lifted them over my head, pinning me down. His thumbs caressed the inside of my palms, squeezing my hands reassuringly. It felt so oddly intimate, having him hold my hands while he fucked me. Liking he was trying to comfort me as he screwed me. Soon he bottomed out, and I could feel his heavy balls resting below my spread open hole, or the tickle of his pubes against my scrotum.

Mitch winked at me and began a steady rhythm. The bed rocked as he humped me. The sound of it mortified me, as did the slapping of our naked flesh, him pounding into me. It was the indisputable sound of fucking, I recognized it from my more restrained couplings with Kara. Only now I was on the receiving end, laying back and letting this brute have his way with me.

I tried to push away reason and enjoy the strange sensation blooming from my backside and spreading throughout my whole body. I willed myself to forget that it was a crude, obnoxious, overweight 50-something year old man sodomizing my ass with his rock hard prong, closed my eyes and focused only on the pleasure his big body was visiting upon mine. I moaned out, making him laugh.

The feeling was unbelievable. This was why gay guys loved it, why some of them were "bottoms." It had always been a mystery to me - what could be worse then something jammed up your ass? In movies and TV I'd only seen it depicted as something hellish, prison rape, assault, a terrible fate, worse than death. But Mitch was filling me with this gorgeous, overpowering warmth and pressure. Though it hurt, though it was frightening, I could never run from this, never resist what he was doing to me.

"Wrap your legs around my waist. That's it. Show your man how much you love getting butt-fucked." I obeyed, clamping my thighs around his hips and crossing my feet over his hairy lower back. Hesitantly I placed my hands on his wide waist, holding onto him as he fucked me.

"That's it. Invite me in. Invite me in to stay a while." He goaded me on, pumping away between my legs. Mitch kept working, never missing a stroke. His face was fixed in concentration, almost angry, but I could tell he was enjoying himself. He kept pounding into me, feeling up my body as he fucked me, encouraging me to take it, to let him in.

"Kiss me, sissyboy. Kiss your man on the lips, give me that tongue." He lowered his head down to mine and I lifted mine to meet him, freely offering him my mouth. I willingly put my tongue in his mouth, and his slid into mine.

"That's it, suck on that tongue, sissyboy." He demanded as our faces mashed together. As ever I obeyed, accepting the spit from his mouth as I suckled his thick tongue. I tasted him fully, the sweat, beer and cigars, all of him.

My heart swelled with a feverish admiration for the man violating me. Mitch was a conqueror, a king. All the boasting and bravado about his sexual exploits was warranted, and then some. Four kids? Mitch had probably had forty kids, forty strong and proud sons carrying his powerful genes. The man sweating and huffing above me was authoritative and potent, half merciless Biblical patriarch, half pagan fertility God. A paragon of strength and lewdness.

I clutched the sheets feebly as his masterful strokes drove me over the edge. This was a bed I had bought specifically for this house, where I intended to impregnate my wife, to make myself a father. But like everything in this house, Mitch had taken control of my bed, it was his, it was an altar where I sacrificed myself to him.

Mitch sped up, wildly thrusting into me, balls slapping against my ass. He bellowed and howled upon orgasm, driving into me deeply. I jerked myself off, nearly screeching with pleasure as a few strands of my own cum battered my chest and belly.

"Now you're mine, boy! Now you're mine for life!" He hollered at the top his lungs, ramming into me, his wide hips a siege engine. I answered his declaration with wordless cries. Mitch kept rocking into me, shouting in delight, squeezing my hips and humping me, milking my body for every last ounce of pleasure it would give him.

When he finally pulled out, I felt a river of his seed release from my bowels. I looked down between my legs, shifting up to see the enormous strain spreading out, staining through to the mattress. He had christened our marital bed with his spooge.

He rolled off of me ponderously, laying on his back on the dry side of the bed. He turned my sweat-slick body so that I was facing him, holding onto him. He stroked my hair for a few moments, catching his breath, before speaking.

"Gimme your wedding ring." His voice was low and he was still breathing heavily. I looked at him in confusion.

"Collateral for the repairs, in case you try to skip out." He already had a lien on my house, the ability to financially ruin me if I failed to pay. But nonetheless I let him seize my wrist and grab the ring off my finger. I watched helplessly as he pawed it, and the simple gold ring disappeared into his closed palm.

"That's it. I'm just going hold on to this for you, buddyboy. When you're with me, you won't be a married man anymore, you'll just be my pussyboy." He kept his grip onto hand, and his fat fingers caressed my ringless finger, rubbing his fingertips over the pale indent from where I had worn it for the last six years.

"You see? Your ring finger should be naked, just like you, sweetheart. Always naked." He said, and rubbed me in broad strokes, from my neck to the bottom of my belly, his rough hands caressing my bare skin.

"You're not your own man anymore. You're just a naked boy. Big Moose'll look out for you. Look out for you and that little wife of yours." He grinned at me cruelly. There was no question. Mitch would make me his cuckold.

"Gonna shave all this off ya." He remarked as he ran his hand over my calves, and against my forearm, bristling the light coating of hair I had there.

"Pits too. Make you like a boy." I closed my eyes and I could see it, my empty armpits, my girl-smooth legs and arms, the weakness he would write upon me from shaving me back into prepubescence.

"But maybe if you're good I'll leave a nice little racing stripe over your that tiny pecker." He said, tracing a narrow pattern with his fingers through my groomed pubic bush, then grabbing my dickhead and giving it a derisive shake.

I watched his big fingers run over my body, imagining how he would transform me. Mitch kept rubbing me up and down, pulling me closer to him, and I lay my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. We both napped together, his chest rumbling with snoring breaths.

About an hour later we woke up, peeling ourselves off of each other.

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up and get you back to work." We rose from the bed and I let him lead me out of the room, supporting me on his broad shoulder. I was still in a daze. A nagging thought occurred and I spoke up.

"Mitch I mean Boss Sir, Kara's coming in a couple days. Before she gets here we'll have to move you to the guest room and move me back into the master bedroom." My voice wavered as I spoke, and he grinned at me like I was making the most foolish suggestion he'd ever heard.

"Not a chance. I'm the man of the house and I sleep in the master bedroom. You're lucky I even let you sleep in that guest room at all. I been thinking of putting a little kid's bed in there, downgrading you to a narrow little twin bed with Spiderman bed sheets or some kinda shit like that. Or maybe a princess theme for you." He mused, with an evil smile on his face. I knew he'd do it.

"I know you're the man of the house, Boss Sir. But what about Kara?" I pressed, cringing as I heard the pathetic whine in my voice.

"Kara's a grown woman. When she gets here, she can decide if she wants to kick old Moose out of bed or not."He shook his hog at me as he spoke, sneering cockily.

"I doubt it though, buddyboy. I think she'll want old Moose to stay put. In fact I have a feeling you'll be in that little guest room all summer." He put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into him and bumping his hips into mine. His big flaccid cock swung against my little dangling pecker, butting into it heavily. As I looked at our respective endowments, the stark contrast between man and boy, I had to agree.

"But don't worry, buddyboy. There's more than enough of Big Moose to go around." He told me as he lowered his hand from my shoulder, down my back to where it found its place, firmly cupping my backside.