I snapped awake quickly when I felt something particularly large squeezing into my buttcheeks.
I gave a sharp yelp, twisting my body around to try to see just what was going on. Good lord, I thought, I’d only been asleep for an hour and a half!
Over my shoulder, I caught sight of a familiar rugged shape. His hair was long, flowing and he clutched my round buttocks his strong fingers. His heavy stallion-like member inched deeper and deeper into me. I cried out, and caught a breath. “Raul?” I yelped.
The man paused, mid-thrust. “How do you know my name?”
I panted. His shaft felt good inside me. A rush of excitement twitched across my skin, making my nipples leap upwards. “Raul!” I called out. “Oh by all the tea in the empire, I’m so glad to see you! Don’t you remember me?”
Giving a quick pump of his hips, I heard his round orbs slap against my buttocks. “You’re our new guest” he said, “I’ve never met you before in my life.”
Suddenly, confusion started to swim around me. Was I dreaming? Surely this had to be a dream. All was hazy, even the bedsheets that I lay upon felt softer than they could ever be. I inhaled heavily. “Raul, we met in the village not a day ago!” I moaned, feeling his tip grind against my inner walls.
“Oh” he said, slowly. “That must be my little brother, Raul the stable-hand.” Lifting his hand from my waist, he patted his chest. “I’m Raul the woodcutter.”
I let my eyes slip closed. Two Rauls? “I must be in heaven” I whispered.
Spreading my legs wide until they were sticking right up in the air, Raul the woodcutter started to rock into me. “I see that the master has stretched you out” he replied.
I clutched my fingers against the bedsheets, tugging on them. “Damn those tentacles” I panted, feeling each thrust reverberating through me. “Are you a prisoner here too, Raul?”
His hands clutching around my ankles, he pushed them up until my feet connected with the wall. Raul grunted, pumping good and hard. “Actually,” he said, “the master has sent us here to make sure that you get to sleep without any trouble.”
“Without any trouble?” I called out. “I was asleep until you started shaggi- wait, hang on. Sent ‘us’?” I stuttered.
“That’s correct” came another voice, to my right.
I turned to look. There, kneeling beside Raul, was another beautiful and muscular youth with equally waving brown hair. He too was naked, and he held his considerable member as if it were a deadly weapon, a weapon of mass seduction.
Damn it all, that shaft looked so delicious.
“Who the dev- oww!” I gasped as Raul thrust particularly deep, “Who are you?” I barked.
“Raul” he said.
I looked from one of the handsome men to the other. “He’s Raul” I said, pointing to the one who was drilling me into the middle of next week.
The gentleman holding out his erection quite so temptingly smirked, and said “I’m Raul too.”
“Oh” I said. “Of course you are. Are you the leathercrafter?”
“No, no” he snorted, rubbing his brawny hands across my sweat-beaded chest. “I’m Raul the cabana boy.”
“Of course” I said, letting my fingers encircle around his heavy balls. “Makes perfect sense.”
“Shhh” he whispered. “You talk too much. Open your mouth.”
How could I resist such a charming offer?
When I had met Raul the day before, I would never have guessed that I would have been spit-roasted between two of him before the end of the week, not without considerable difficulty. But here I was, flexing my mouth as wide as I could to suck hard on one of those beautiful tower-long girths, while another drove all the way to the hilt inside me. Wet slapping and slurping sounds filled the air, filling the night with the echoing sounds of the music of homosexual buggery.
I moaned into Raul mark three’s girth, feeling tears of pleasure start to bristle in my eyes. I lay back, my legs high and twitching with each thrust.
“Got a hand?” another voice spoke.
I opened my eyes. Turning to the right, I caught sight of yet another exceedingly familiar figure.
“Let me guess” I said, letting Raul mark three’s shaft pop free from my mouth. “You’re also Raul?”
“What?” asked the handsome rugged identical man. “No, of course not.”
“You’re not?” I asked, my rump flexing around Raul 2.0’s thick wang.
“No” he said, “I’m Sven.”
Annals Of Gentalia 