I'm not sure why, but I'd never really been taken with Daniel "Dynamite ****" Dubois, and couldn't really put my finger on why. Though it might be that I've met corpses with more personality.
However, when I was given the opportunity to wank him off, I thought I still ought to go for it, on the off chance that I could pull the **** upset and make him cum first.
Well, even though people had written me off, things went much better than I expected... in the first three minutes I was just gently fondling his pecker, when all of a sudden he almost came in my hand and his legs went to post-climax jelly. I'd heard rumours (rumors, Fat Yanks) that he had a glass bell end, but this was beyond my wildest expectations - I'd only just lightly brushed his head and he could hardly stand up.
What happened next was so bizarre I can hardly speak of it. It became clear that he'd prematurely ejaculated and his legs wouldn't support him as a result. Down again he went, flopping to the bedroom floor before I'd even had chance to play another tune on his tummy trombone. He got up, still with his pants full of spunk, and then fell down a third time. I have to be honest - the idea of Dubois repeatedly going down in the ring against me was an enticing prospect, but in this instance he looked like the archetypical daft cunt.
"What just happened? Did I cum quick?" he asked his corner. He'd shot his load so early his head was empty and the silly bastard didn't have a clue where he was. He was a sitting target for a solid bumming, a dry rogering of which he had no defence.
Yet then, dear reader, I behaved in a way that will be forever etched as my greatest chagrin. For some reason - possibly that I wanted the love-making to last, or that I was still wary of the potential power of his own bumming ability - I decided to just trudge around in the bedroom with a strategy I called "Do absolutely fuck all until his head clears and he can bum you in return."
Quite why I initiated this complex strategy is still a mystery to myself, as I just watched, giving Daniel time to get some life back in his post-coital legs, and try to attempt a second erection. Rather than just going straight for a solid bumming, I allowed that charcoal love muscle time to regroup and regrow, until after three or four minutes of me inexplicably doing absolutely fuck all he was ready to try again.
This time he was ready, and with the recovery time he was able to repeatedly smash me in the gob with his newly-renewed hard on. I went down twice as it penetrated me, only to hear a bell in the distance. The sound of a bell was always something that warmed my heart, but this time I wasn't given the chance to recover like Daniel had, no benefit of the bumming doubt - even though the round was over, I was offered no minute's respite to see if I could get hard again, but was simply told "That's it, you've been bummed."
Was I angry? Bitter? No, not a bit of it. The man in charge of officiating this savage bumming was Howard Foster, a respected veteran whose name is a byword for fair play and impartiality. My only concern was if I had forever given away my opportunity to bum at the top level again.
However, when I was given the opportunity to wank him off, I thought I still ought to go for it, on the off chance that I could pull the **** upset and make him cum first.
Well, even though people had written me off, things went much better than I expected... in the first three minutes I was just gently fondling his pecker, when all of a sudden he almost came in my hand and his legs went to post-climax jelly. I'd heard rumours (rumors, Fat Yanks) that he had a glass bell end, but this was beyond my wildest expectations - I'd only just lightly brushed his head and he could hardly stand up.
What happened next was so bizarre I can hardly speak of it. It became clear that he'd prematurely ejaculated and his legs wouldn't support him as a result. Down again he went, flopping to the bedroom floor before I'd even had chance to play another tune on his tummy trombone. He got up, still with his pants full of spunk, and then fell down a third time. I have to be honest - the idea of Dubois repeatedly going down in the ring against me was an enticing prospect, but in this instance he looked like the archetypical daft cunt.
"What just happened? Did I cum quick?" he asked his corner. He'd shot his load so early his head was empty and the silly bastard didn't have a clue where he was. He was a sitting target for a solid bumming, a dry rogering of which he had no defence.
Yet then, dear reader, I behaved in a way that will be forever etched as my greatest chagrin. For some reason - possibly that I wanted the love-making to last, or that I was still wary of the potential power of his own bumming ability - I decided to just trudge around in the bedroom with a strategy I called "Do absolutely fuck all until his head clears and he can bum you in return."
Quite why I initiated this complex strategy is still a mystery to myself, as I just watched, giving Daniel time to get some life back in his post-coital legs, and try to attempt a second erection. Rather than just going straight for a solid bumming, I allowed that charcoal love muscle time to regroup and regrow, until after three or four minutes of me inexplicably doing absolutely fuck all he was ready to try again.
This time he was ready, and with the recovery time he was able to repeatedly smash me in the gob with his newly-renewed hard on. I went down twice as it penetrated me, only to hear a bell in the distance. The sound of a bell was always something that warmed my heart, but this time I wasn't given the chance to recover like Daniel had, no benefit of the bumming doubt - even though the round was over, I was offered no minute's respite to see if I could get hard again, but was simply told "That's it, you've been bummed."
Was I angry? Bitter? No, not a bit of it. The man in charge of officiating this savage bumming was Howard Foster, a respected veteran whose name is a byword for fair play and impartiality. My only concern was if I had forever given away my opportunity to bum at the top level again.
Citizen Koba
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