Addicted To Black Cock

God, he was big; one of the biggest. Shit, he could fuck. Panting, panting, I grabbed the metal legs of the cot on either side in a death grip, my cheek pressed into the rough woolen blanket, my eyes bugging out and my mouth slack and open in a silent scream, as he drove it harder, deeper inside me. Cruel. Rough. Just what I wanted. Just what I needed.
“Punish me,” I murmured. “Cum inside me.” He laughed.
My knees were trembling and I was about to collapse under the weight of the big black bull covering my back. Driving harder, deeper. For one long moment in time I no longer was in a half hut, half tent alongside the Da Nang airstrip. I was dancing on the clouds with the cock of a big black bull churning inside me. Far, far away from the periodic dull booms in the night, listening for the whistle of the rocket in flight, wondering if the next one would land on top of me—of us, before he could blast up into my stomach.
“Hurry. Now! Hurry. Give it to me, give it to me. Give me your cum,” I gasped, daring not to yell it out as I wished to do because of the close proximity of the other huts. I threw both of my hands back to grasp his undulating buttocks and to press him close into me as he went rigid, muttered, “Oh shit, man, I’m coming,” and then, with a series of jerks, did, creaming my passage deep.
He came off me and I rolled out from under him, both of us going sideways on the cot, our feet on the dirt floor, and our shoulder blades leaning into the rough wood of the hut’s lower walls. We didn’t say anything yet. He was...