The Autobiography of a Flea, Book 4 (7 page)

Staying only long enough to snack upon one of the stouter built girls – whose blood was sweet beyond belief for such a sour-faced individual – and deftly avoiding the half-hearted scratching she accorded her cleanly shaven armpit following my impromptu refreshment, I departed from the suite and returned to my host who was just rising from his wine and conversation, bidding the Greek a genial adios for the moment.

“It's agreed, then,” belched Bullpole loudly. “We each sleep a full ten hours and following a light meal, commence the contest to see which of us can indeed fuck the most girls – the loser being whomever can no longer complete the act by unloading his manly juice into still another virginal cunt!”

“Splendid!” The Greek's sly eyes glittered. “But – and I ask you to forgive me for suggesting it – shouldn't there be stakes of some kind or other? If for no other purpose than to lend the contest added zest?”

“Aren't our egos stake aplenty?” Bullpole locked mildly surprised.

“True. But – and again I ask you to excuse my native fondness for gambling – wouldn't the entire competition be lent a most exhilarating mood of excitement, over and above our mere personal ideas of our own virilities, if something truly valuable in an… ah… materialistic sense were involved, old friend? Or do I press the point ungraciously?”

“I'm not afraid to wager,” burped Bullpole a trifle brashly, being somewhat tipsy. “I'm as much if not more of a reckless gambler than you, you goaty old Greek!”

Something dangerously akin to hatred glinted in the Greek's eyes for a fraction of a second but was lost in the oily smirk of chagrin that overpowered his devilish features. “I know you are, and I'm probably courting disaster – but I shall make so bold as to inquire whether you are gambler enough for worthwhile stakes.”

“Such as?” Bullpole was obviously nettled.

The Greek shrugged indifferently. “Oh, such as, say, my entire establishment near Athens against, say, this entire site.”

Bullpole grinned drunkenly. You mean my palace wagered against your palatial, highly famed fortress known to be easily twice the size and value of this comparatively modest headquarters?” Incredulity broadened the grin.

The Greek nodded, looking as though he might be suffering regret at having spelled out such stakes, but biting his lip in the knowledge that he was committed, having uttered them.

“Done!” shouted Bullpole, laughing thunderously. “Until later, old friend, when I shall literally screw you out of the most impressive castle any man ever possessed – I bid you good rest!”

The same mysterious instinct that has so often stood my existence in such beneficial stead began clamoring strongly and I questioned not the deep intuitive throbbing – transferring myself from Bullpole to the Greek in a twinkling. And when the somber-faced Greek left the room, I was securely hidden within the thick forest of dark hairs that grew entangled upon his muscular chest.

He began smiling faintly once he was alone.

Following a long period of sleep that I could but assume was the allotted ten hours, the Greek was awakened by one of his personal servants, a tender young girl of merely thirteen or fourteen years who had come from Greece as part of his entourage, and he then bathed – during which I temporarily abandoned his person while he indulged himself in that most obnoxious activity – in a vulgarly thorough fashion, after which he summoned another of his own servants, an elderly man whose serene features, snowy beard, bald pate and general bearing bespoke a learned and magical sage.

“You will concoct a potion,” the Greek instructed the old wizard, “that shall enable me to fuck almost unendingly – or at very least for several hours. And your concoction must be totally reliable or you and all your relatives will face a most slow and nightmarish death, should your chemistry fail to provide me with the sexual endurance I will be expecting from it.”

“The future of my family and myself is assured, my lord,” the ancient seer murmured evenly, a placid smile wreathing his weathered face. “I know exactly the potion you desire. I guarantee that it will safely see you through several hundred orgasms, if necessary.”

“Successive orgasms within a few hours?”

The bone-thin old sage nodded.

“Poison me, and you know the consequences?” The Greek smiled evilly at his magician.

“I know, my lord. I was present when you had the foresight to give the orders in advance as insurance against my ever betraying you with a deadly potion. I have no wish to see my lovely great-grandchildren fed alive to cannibalistic men.”

“Then, prepare the potion.”

“One thing, my lord.”

“Yes?”

“You must imbibe a full pint of the potion and you must drink it ah hour before beginning any carnal indulgences.”

“Agreed. I have that much time if you don't tarry with the preparation.”

“May I further suggest a certain ointment that applied to your manhood externally will increase your control without inhibiting your natural ability to climax, whenever you so desire the pleasure of giving full orgasm?”

“You have just earned your family their freedom to live in wealth – if your ointment gives that result.” The Greek beamed at the venerable sorcerer.

“It will produce that result, my lord.”

“Then proceed without delay!”

After the old one had shuffled from the room, the Greek ate sparingly. As he munched a light salad and a few fistfuls of roasted lamb, he chuckled delightedly and maundered aloud to himself.

“By Olympus!” he chortled happily, “I've as good as deprived that fatassed ox of his wallow! What hasn't dawned in his soddened brain as yet is the cold fact that once I've won these headquarters, I automatically own all his holdings across that dry and inhospitable mainland – taking possession of every whorehouse in every Spanish city that the hoggish cretin controls! Oh, what a marvelous bit of sheer brilliant and profitable malice – and I think the best part is, the swinish brute has forgotten how he cheated me in past years, delaying my present fortunes considerably!” He thumped the table in merriment, his satanic features contorted with mirth. “Oh, this will be a sweet and tasty revenge indeed! And one that was well worth planning and waiting for, lo, these long years!”

Strangely enough, his innate malice lent the Greek additional charm, and I couldn't help admiring him for it – possibly because I had found nothing especially sympathetic or deviously admirable in the stolid and overbearing Bullpole to date. I gave my protective intuition a silent vote of gratitude, knowing that I had been led to the winner of the forthcoming contest, surely in advance of the final outcome. To celebrate, I treated myself to a sample of blood from each and every one of his immediate household – discovering, to my relish, that they all offered the same pleasing flavor of mingled cheese and olives that their lord and master's blood carried so deliriously.

Sated and feeling a mild degree of ennui, I wandered through the Greek's suites in search of something worth observing to while away the time until the contest between him and Bullpole might begin; and I hadn't traveled more than a trice of rooms before I encountered such a sight.

One of the Greek's bodyguards – a hideously muscular fellow with a bestial look to his bearded face – sat beside a downy-cheek youth who seemed uncertain as he allowed the bodyguard to stroke his firm young penis with a familiar hand that shook lustfully as it fondled the lad's organ.

“That's a handsome stave you have!” muttered the bodyguard thickly. “I'll wager you've yet to know the feel of a mouth upon its tender plum, eh?”

“S-Sir?” quavered the boy.

“Well, you're in luck, young man! I happen to prefer your kind to those noisy, chittering females that can give a man the pox!” Lowering his gaping mouth, the bodyguard plunged it over the trembling tip of the youth's member – closing his hairy lips around its hardness with mumbling gusto and sucking up and down in a fury of greedy enjoyment.

The boy's eyes widened – first in utter surprise, then in amazed pleasure – as the older male nursed with savage delight upon the stiff length of organ, twisting his head this way and that, tugging at it in playful glee, thrusting his hirsute face down and swallowing almost the entire column of white tense flesh while the boy's face grew dreamy in blissful enjoyment of the sensations being created upon his prick. When he came a few seconds later, the youth cried out his excited ecstasy, writhing in its toils as his juices went gushing and spurting forth within the demanding mouth that held his penis prisoner, spasm after spasm making his slender body twitch and squirm.

The bodyguard lifted his dripping maw, grinning.

“How was that?” he chuckled lewdly.

“Oh, th-that felt so strangely wonderful!” The lad stared longingly at the hairy-ringed mouth which had delivered the greatest pleasure he'd ever known. “It's- it's much better than pulling at it with my own hand until it floods forth! W-Will you do it again to me, sir?”

“I shall – if you'll give me the pleasure of my own lust in the manner I prefer!” The bodyguard eyed the boy's awakened desire shrewdly, knowing that his deliberate campaign to reach this moment had worked most effectively. “Will you do that?”

The lad nodded enthusiastically, thinking only of experiencing the repeated joy of having that hairy face nuzzling his lap, feeling the warmth and wetness of that hungry mouth upon his stiffly sensitive organ.

“Then turn over, get on your hands and knees!” ordered the bodyguard, producing a small jar of jellylike substance. “That's it! Now spread those pretty, smooth legs a bit! God, what a handsome young asshole you have, my friend! Hold still now while I apply this aid!”

“It feels so peculiar!” giggled the boy.

“You haven't really felt anything peculiar yet!” panted the lecherous bodyguard, getting himself up close to the youthful buttocks, spreading the cheeks with his hands and suddenly pressing his own exposed penis – a respectable truncheon that stood upright excitedly – against the jelly-smeared rectal entrance.

“Ow!” gasped the boy, wincing. “Th-that hurts, sir! Ow! I don't like – ow! – this kind of – ow! – fun at all, sir! Oh, by the gods! OW! You're killing me, sir!”

“It only hurts a bit the first time!” panted the bodyguard, thrusting his rigid member into the hole, jabbing it in and out in short stabs that made his face grow heavy with lustful enjoyment. “Besides, the cunt never was carried betwixt female thighs that can match a male asshole or even a male mouth for snug delight and satisfying fucking! Hold still, you young fool! I'm nearing my own pleasure now!” The bodyguard rocked steadily back and forth, his penis slipping in and out of the boy's rectum with increasing vigor and speed.

“B-But it hurts too much!” wailed the youth, grimacing and bracing himself against the shocks of the man's pumping, thrusting loins. “Th-the pain is terrible, sir!”

“Act like the brave soldier you'll one day be!”

The, lad gritted his white teeth, enduring the act which now had become a frenzied violence as the bodyguard- quivering into full orgasm and his body straining with the urgent enjoyment, his face a contorted mask of lust- slammed his ramrod into the yielding rectum with a last grunt of animal satisfaction, hoarsely groaning and bent almost double when the spasms of climax poured his juice spurtingly from the end of his inserted member into the aperture it impaled.

Weakly, the bodyguard withdrew the smoking penis and slumped onto his side, laboring for breath. The boy moved backwards until his once again erected penis dangled stiffly down near the prone bodyguard's slack mouth, brushing the bearded lips.

“Suck me!” the boy whispered feverishly, prodding at the man's half-opened mouth with the throbbing tip of his excited organ. “Suck me again!”

“In a moment, lad!” wheezed the bodyguard.

“Now!” the boy pleaded.

The bodyguard opened his mouth and the youth thrust his pulsing stiffness into the thick lips, moaning with pleasure as that heavy mouth closed tightly about his organ – undulating his hips as he began copulating slowly and steadily in and out of the brutish mouth engulfing his hard young cock, the blissful expression reappearing upon his smooth face as the sensual enjoyment resumed.

I left, hearing his soft murmuring fade behind me.

Returning to the Greek, I found him seated with his thighs spread apart while the aged seer carefully painted a thin liquid over every inch of the truly startling penis jutting up stiffly from a matted tangle of black hair in the Greek's crotch. It was a fantastically long and thick organ for such a small and wiry man. Clublike, it waved in rigid splendor as the ancient sage finished brushing the ointment upon it. I could hardly believe the sight but compared to this staff of muscle, Bullpole's mace-like member was inferior indeed.

The Greek's penis was adorned with a number of large and bumpy warts down its white column. Its plum-shaped head looked broader and thicker than any such tips I've ever seen on male organs during all my journeys or in any of the many instances where I beheld the human penis exposed or in action. It was a veritable giant mushroom of a prick, and it almost dwarfed its possessor since he seemed even shorter and thinner with that magnificent length of genital construction protruding from his hairy lap.

“There, my lord,” murmured the elderly sorcerer, stepping back. “The ointment is applied. You have drunk the potion. You will be perfectly ready for any contest of sexual endurance within a few minutes.”

“By the stenchless turds of Zeus!” exclaimed the exuberant Greek, staring proudly at his own cock and thumping it lightly, causing it to waggle back and forth stiffly, “now I'll not only hammer that stupid pig's empire away from him but I'll outfuck his best effort until he's been wretchedly humiliated and made the laughing stock of this very palace of bawdy enterprise!”

That cocky Greek was all winner if I ever saw one.