The Gentle Degenerates (The Vassi Collection)

by Marco Vassi

  He was there, dressed in a shirt which came to just below his cock, and nothing else on. The lights were very low, and I could hear voices in the next room. A thrill of heavy anticipation ran through my balls and I felt my ass tingle. Whatever the psychology of the situation might have been, the straight biological lesson was clear: I got something from making it with men that just didn’t happen with women. And there was no one in all of creation who could tell me it was a perversion or a sickness. My motives might have been awry, but the simple act of homosexual fucking was as right as anything a man and women did together. I smelled orgy in the air, and Roy smiled at me, his teeth gleaming between his black lips as he said “Hello” in his strong West Indian accent.

  “Some friends of mine came over,” he continued. “Come in and meet them.” I followed him into the living room, a small New York parody on the name, barely large enough to accomodate the five people now in it. The introductions went around: John, Paul, George. It was a mixed bag. John was a hulking narcissist, almost six feet two, with a thrust of dirty blond hair and a perpetual pose in his posture. He looked over at me in that odd way they have, suggesting that the only proper relation was the way in which I would worshipfully look at him. Paul was a queen in men’s clothing. He was one of those super-soft black boys who look as though they spent the first sixteen years of life on mama’s tit. Great pendulous lips and soft liquid eyes, his skin shone with a dull glow and his ass rose provocatively in a high tight curve through his clinging white pants. George looked like a librarian, with an indeterminate face. He could have been anywhere from twenty-five to forty years old, and had a certain faded quality about him, like a piece of driftwood that has been in the sun a long time.

  I sat down, took a proffered beer, and joined the party. It was at the small-talk stage, tales of last year on Fire Island, gossip about the raids in the local gay bars. There were issues of Screw and Gay strewn about. Within half an hour or so I would be involved with these men in a groaning tangle of bodies, with cocks and asses and fantasies open full blast, and all of us sucking and fucking and diving in and out of whatever forms of sexual excitement we dug, and yet here we were, indulging in inane chitchat, without any warmth or true humor or eye contact. We were like soldiers about to attack an enemy fortification, making small talk to cover our nervousness, or to give some social pretext to delay our readiness. Men don’t seem to need as much foreplay as women.

  Roy stood up. “Why don’t we go make ourselves comfortable,” he said. We all looked at one another, sized up one another’s bodies and took a fix on the flesh, and headed for the bedroom. This was a different affair, bigger than the living room, and consisting mostly of two huge mattresses laid side by side on the floor. A red light made the room nicely suggestive. And one wall was a set of full-length mirrors. We filed in, hesitated for a moment, and without further ado, began taking off our clothes. There was something of the locker room about the activity, and part of me resented the stereotypic nature of the scene. Yet I realized that acting out one drama was as valid as any other, and elegance had so often got in the way of utility that I could appreciate the briskness of this approach. As we dropped our pants and took off our shirts, we exchanged more or less surreptitious glances, measuring the sizes of cocks and looking at how the asses hung.

  Then we were nude. Paul fell forward and lay on his back on the mattress, squirming a little and stretching luxuriously. John struck a magazine cover pose against the wall, leaning his torso back and pulling on his cock with his right hand. For a moment I smirked at the silliness of the posture, but then an old familiar weakness made my knees go slack and I felt a pressure in my chest. His cock grew hard and bulged out from the pubic hair, thick and mean. His balls hung like oat sacks underneath. I found myself moving over toward him, mesmerized by the tool. I looked into his eyes and met the cool disdain with which he meets all men, the knowledge that the sheer presence of his body is enough to get men to suck him off and let themselves be fucked. I stood in front of him, and then sank heavily to my knees. The cock shot straight up before me, throbbing slightly. The purple tip contrasted with the pale white shaft. For a long while I drank it in with my eyes, feasting myself on the weight and succulence of it. Then, trembling and unable to bear the tension any longer, I leaned my head forward, and with a sob took the velvety lush knob in my mouth. My mouth was dry and his cock rasped against my lips. I licked the tip of his cock with my tongue and wet it. I pulled back and plunged forward again, this time using my tongue like a washcloth, lapping the cock all over, covering it with saliva, making it slippery. He drew in his breath with short hisses and put his hand on the top of my head, giving me gentle pressure to go even more forward. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and then began the long slow descent on the entire shaft, feeling it go past my teeth, over my tongue and to the back of my mouth. I relaxed deep in my jaw and thenlet the immense prick slide into my throat, making the opening very wide, deeper, until it lodged down almost to my adam’s apple. I felt myself heaving from deep in my stomach, and as my body convulsed, my throat tightened its grip on the head of his cock. He groaned and his knees buckled. As much as I was able, I smiled to myself; I had been able to blow his cool as well as his cock.

  I pulled back and felt his cock make the reverse journey as my throat snapped shut behind it, and it slithered up my tongue to my lips, where I kissed the tip of it tenderly, loving it with my tongue.

  I moved back and lay on the mattress. Right behind me Paul was lying on his stomach, his mouth stretched tight around Roy’s cock. He worked with that quick feverish corkscrew motion that many cocksuckers affect, but which has always left me cold. I prefer long-drawn-out affairs where the entire mouth and throat become totally sensitive and actually communicate with the cock. Of course, I get into frenzies also, but they come as the culmination of a long preparation of slow sucking. George was lying behind Paul, his face buried in the large black buttocks. He had the cheeks pried apart with his hands, and his tongue worked up and down the entire crack of Paul’s ass. Paul wriggled and pushed his ass back, and with a gulping sound George thrust his tongue forcibly and wetly into his asshole. He slobbered like a dog with a new bone.

  John came forward and knelt on the bed between my legs. He looked down at me sternly, and despite myself, I felt my limbs grow heavy. He moved up until his knees were prying my thighs apart and then he reached down and pulled my legs up and placed my ankles over his shoulders. My ass was all the way up off the bed and exposed to. his menacing cock. “Some jelly,” I said, hoping for lubricant. But he just looked down at my ass, spread the cheeks apart, and brought his rod up into the crack. I was dry and tight, not having had a man for weeks. He put his fingers in my mouth and I covered them with saliva, which he then brought down to rub on the tip of his cock. Slowly the large engine slid toward the tiny opening, and when it nudged right at the hole, I shuddered and let all my tension go. I was his, no matter how much it hurt or what he did. I was open and vulnerable, and all I wanted was to feel that hot gnarled prick move its way into my bowels and fuck me until I screamed my way into oblivion.

  I felt it break in, and for a moment it seemed that I was losing my virginity all over again. A sharp spasm of pain went through my middle and I caught my breath. He wasn’t cruel and didn’t push in hard; but he wasn’t kind, so the steady intrusion continued. The expression on his face hadn’t changed. It was the trancelike solemnity of an anaesthetist putting the mask over someone’s face. I didn’t know whether he was experiencing pleasure in his cock or not; his entire attention seemed focused on me on my reactions. I let my legs fall back and reached down to spread my cheeks further, to pull the membrane of my asshole back so that he didn’t pull on it as he entered. He went deeper and deeper until he was all the way inside. I felt the end of him as a dull, sweet ache deep inside me. And from that point all else flowed.

  Then he melted and swooped down on me. His mouth found mine and to my surpri
se, his lips were gentle and sensitive. All the hard lines in his face melted, and suddenly he seemed very young, no more than a teenager. His beautiful cock worked its will inside me and I loved it with everything I had. I brought my ass up and forward so he could penetrate more deeply. I ran my hands up and down his back, feeling the strength in his shoulders, the smooth skin sloping down past his spine to his ass, which contracted and released as he pumped his pelvis into me. He was, for that moment, for all that, my darling. I became a total woman for him, letting him see me, letting him know me, letting him go into the heart of me. I saw myself, lying wantonly beneath his rippling body, my legs wrapped completely around him, as I fondled his ears and kissed his throat, making deep murmuring sounds into his chest. For a few minutes we were as one, feeling and relating to nothing else but the fires of our own passion, absolutely lost in one another. Then I felt him begin to grow deeply excited and I knew he was about to come. “Do it,” I whispered, “come inside me, give it to me now, fuck it all inside me.”

  But at that point, he stopped. He froze his pelvis tight and strangled the sperm welling up through his tube. He lay perfectly still for a moment and then slowly pulled out. All the softness had gone and he was back in costume again. His cock came out hard and tough and there was sense of disappointment and disgust that ran through me. The bastard had been stingy, and wanted to save his load for later. But just then, Roy reached over and put an inhalator in my nose. The sweet fumes of amyl nitrate came rushing into my head, and suddenly a deep, exalted relaxation swept through my body. I sank and wriggled down deeper into the mattress, wanting to be covered, wanting to be touched, wanting to be overpowered. John came forward and knelt by my head, his knees at my shoulders. The cock sang over me, and with a sigh, I reached up to lick it. But he grabbed my hair and held my head back. I whimpered and tried harder to get his cock. He pulled my head back hard to the mattress and slapped me across the face. Suddenly I was inflamed with desire. More than anything I had to have that incredible piece of meat in my mouth. “Please,” I said, “please.” He looked down. “Please what?” he hissed. “Let me have it, let me suck you off, please put it in my mouth,” I moaned. He smiled thinly and bent forward, bringing the cock to my lips. I opened my mouth wide and put my tongue up to lick the tiny slit in the head of his prick. He put all his weight on me, and all of a sudden his cock came rushing into my mouth, hard and fast. I gasped for breath but he didn’t give me a chance. He kept my hair pulled back and began to grind his tool deep into me, bruising my throat. He worked it all over the inside of my mouth, into my cheeks and along the roof of my mouth and again and again past my throat opening and down as far as he could reach into my gullet. I gagged and retched, but he had no mercy.

  Just then I felt my legs being lifted again. Roy moved in and, to my relief, smeared KY down the crack and into my asshole. Then without further preliminaries he sank his cock into my already used ass. I took it with a grunt, and simultaneously felt the cock in my mouth sink deeper. Then they began working in unison. I heard Paul, who had come to lie beside me, crooning, “Oh fuck him, baby, fuck him good.” And then he moved his hand over to begin pinching my nipples hard. I felt the pain go shooting through my chest and into my belly. My ass loosened even more, and then I was past any point of tension. I was all openness and wet and heat. I lay back and wailed. My ass was wide open, spread apart and sucking in the cock that rammed again and again into the deepest part of me. I was making gurgling, sloshing sounds in my throat, and writhing under the punishment of Paul’s hands. Another popper got thrust into my nose and I sailed off into the wild abandon I so much cherish, where all the fantasies swell into great archetypal images dancing in an immense round to a silent music. I became all men and all women, all life and all death, all mortality and all eternity. I drew in the vibrant male energy pumping into me, sucking at pleasure and meaning, draining them of all their vibrations. I heard myself crying and singing long loud high notes.

  And then, as the popper wore off, I descended back to the bedroom, feeling the grunting groaning bodies working their way into me. Spasms had begun to shake Roy, and in a moment he pumped harder and harder into my ass. “You bitch,” he cried, “you fucking bitch,” as he slapped my ass and pinched my thighs and hit at my belly. I welcomed it all, all the abuse and all the emotion. Let him let it all out, I thought, let it all pour into me, because I’m hungry and thirsty and I need psychic blood, I need what I drain from these fools who imagine that sex has to do only with what happens between genitals. The vampire in me rose high, and with a great shriek dragged the vital spark from their bodies. Roy ducked and slammed so full and deep into my ass that sharp searing pain tore at my bowels. And at almost the same time, John’s enormous cock lodged itself deep in my throat, unbudgingly, and spewed jet after jet of sperm down into my chest. I drank it all in and let myself fall off the edge of the precipice.

  For a long, long time it was all quiet, and then the cock in my mouth grew limp and slithered out from between my lips, leaving a thin line of sperm over my chin. Roy pulled his cock out and my ass fell limp on the sheet, my legs lying as though broken. They moved back and I prepared to sit up. But I had forgotten Paul and George.

  George rolled me over on my stomach and suddenly I felt very naked and very exposed with my ass up in the air. And the the first blow came, a stinging slap across my buttocks with a thick flat belt. I grabbed the sheet in my fists and bit into the pillow. Again the strap came down. The pain was excruciating for a split second, and then ebbed into a dull ache until the belt hit again. Each time it hit, the reddening cheeks felt it more. Almost to my surprise I found myself lifting my ass up to receive the blows faster and fuller. “Look, the little queen likes it,” I heard someone say, and was astonished to consider that they were talking about me. Who I was in terms of my personality had long since disappeared; all that was left was this organism that for some reason enjoyed the extremities of pain and pleasure, no matter in how perverse a form they came down.

  “Do you want another popper?” Roy asked. “Yes,” I rasped. “Then come get it,” he said. He held the inhalator a few inches from my nose and I raised up my head to get at it, but he pulled it back a few inches. I began moving toward it and suddenly felt a great weight on my head. John was standing over me, grinding me down with his foot. “Lick it,” he said. I turned my face and felt the harsh texture of the bottom of his foot bruise my mouth. He pushed my lips out of shape and I began licking at his foot to make him stop, and to make him do more. “Crawl,” hissed Roy, and I continued to move toward the popper.

  Then they were all on me at once, slapping me, pulling my hair back and spitting on me, forcing me to suck their toes and cocks. Paul rolled me over and sat on my face. The deep musky smell of the space between his thighs, the dark spot between the balls and asshole, overpowered me and I sank into it. I began licking and slobbering all up and down the tender center of his sex. He moved forward and I felt the pinched membrane of his asshole rub harshly against my mouth. He reached down and again the popper went into my nostril. “Now do it good,” he said. The drug unstrung me again and I became a mindless lapping animal, grovelling and sucking at the asshole, pulling at it with all the suction I could manage, inserting my tongue deep into the chamber. Then someone grabbed my balls and began squeezing. I cried out in pain but when I opened my mouth, Paul’s ass only smothered me more. Someone was pinching at my nipples again and slapping at my belly. I was totally in their power and wanted to be nowhere else. It seemed that it would be all right even if they killed me.

  A period of total confusion followed. I was all at once smothered in bodies and the same people who had been punishing me were now licking me and kissing me, running their hands tenderly up and down my body. George put his mouth over my cock and began sucking it with all the gentleness in the world. I felt myself melt and started whimpering like a little girl lost. This inflamed them more and George pulled back, and with a cry of “Oh
baby,” leaned forward and brought his cock to my ass. I desired him then more than I can remember wanting anything in my life. “Oh fuck me,” I cried and opened my legs to him. He sank into me easily and warmly, and his large soft cock filled me with delight and longing. I brought my ass up to get as close to him as I could, and then holding on tightly, let him ride and ride and ride. He moved with a great joy and spirit, not holding anything back, letting himself feel me, letting himself feel himself. I felt the orgasm welling up in him long before there was any physical sign of it; it was a kind of distant rumbling like the sound of surf from far away. I let the entire inside of me go loose and pushed out, opening to draw him in. He sank into me further and began sobbing in my ear, “Oh baby, darling, yes baby, yes.” And then, from deep under his cock, the spasms began and I could feel the sperm shooting up the soft underbelly of his tool, as load after load lodged itself deep in my ass. I held him tightly and felt his cock throb for a long time afterward, and then slowly, gently, felt him go limp and slide out.

  After that, suddenly, it was over for me. Roy began to make a move toward me, but I cut it off. I felt satisfied and wanted no more. Or so I thought. It was that point when, in fucking women, I generally get frustrated if they have had sufficient and I have yet to come. I fell back on the bed protesting, but he deftly reached down and put his finger in my ass. At once, all resistance melted. I had flip-flopped from refusal to acceptance in the blink of an eye. He rolled me over on my stomach and spread my cheeks apart. Once again I sank into a heavy bliss, and felt a cock move inside me. I began to feel insatiable, as though I could let myself get fucked again and again forever, never wanting to be without it, never wanting to feel an empty hole where there could be a fullness entering it.