“Merry Christmas, Jerry”

“Merry Christmas, Jerry”

Al was my roommate in college. He was a Hispanic guy with a thick, stocky body, and he loved to fuck pussy. He frequently had a girl in our room, and the women seemed to love him. He was a little sloppy, leaving his dirty underwear on the floor, and sometimes on my bed where they might have been tossed when he was pulling them off in excitement to mount the body of the young lady in his bed and shove his thick penis as deep into her pussy as he could drive it.

When the door was shut for the night, the scent of sex from all his dirty underwear and semen stains on his sheets became intense. Several times I came home to find semen stains on my sheets too, so apparently Al didn’t care if he fucked on my bed. At first I was angry and repulsed by it. But I grew accustomed to it, and didn’t mind sleeping in it. He was turning me into a pig, and on to him. When I crawled into bed for the night, I could smell my body heat drawing the scent of his dried semen from my sheets, and it gave me a hard boner I quietly and silently took care of before drifting off to sleep.

When I jerked off, I kind of looked at Al out of the corner of my eye, because I didn’t want him to know what I was doing. I didn’t think he would handle knowing I was infatuated with his dick, or enamored with his body, as well as his personality. Many college guys think a score every few weeks is lucky and fortunate. For some like me, the interval is longer. Al fucked every day. So our room constantly carried the scent of his semen. By morning, with the door shut and ventilation contained, the scent was particularly strong, especially when the heater came on to make the room warm and cozy.

When Al awoke, and he always slept nude, he spun on the sheet to swing his legs over the bed edge, his feet to the floor, and he stood up; his thick penis jiggling over a nutsack I knew was constantly in production of his musky sperm. His dick was wrinkled, and even though cut, the remains of a foreskin made a soft, wrinkled collar around the smooth head of his glans. That dick was so fat! He didn’t dress right away, but strutted around the room making it jiggle. I pretended to sleep, curled into a fetal position under my sheets to hide my boner.

Many times I saw him start to get hard. His dark brown dick became really thick and the flaccid droop over his nutsack gave way until his dick pointed at eight or nine o’clock. He never touched it or jerked it to make it go farther. Many times I wished he would, because I badly wanted to see what so many girls called the best fuck of their lives. I badly wanted to see his dick in a hard, throbbing boner pointed toward his stubbly chin.

My desk was right behind my pillow, and sometimes Al walked over to look for something to read, because I always had something good to read. While he was looking there, or on the bookshelves above the desk, his dick hung just inches from my face. I got a good, close look at it, many times. I could smell the musky fragrance of his curly pubes, and always the scent of crusty pussy juices and semen. The fishy scent of pussy became less attractive to me than the musky scent of his semen-crusted penis. I lay pretending to sleep, my eyes cracked open enough to fool him and become intimately familiar with his penis. I felt like I knew every thick vein, every wrinkle, the position and size of the slit in the glans

One morning, I had a soft porn mag called Oui in my bookcase. Usually I slipped it out of sight under my mattress, but this time I put it on the shelf with some of my regular class journals.  Al walked over, leaned over me and pulled the mag from its hidden spot with all my other journals and things. The head of his penis hung right over my face, and I watched the shaft throb with surges of hot blood filling it as Al looked at my favorite picture of a Dutch girl named Gabrielle. He was on his way to a full boner.

The risk was great, but I opened my mouth in pretense of a yawn, pretended to roll in my sleep to wrap my lips around the head of Al’s dick. He looked down in surprise and I quickly shut my eyes in pretense I was asleep. But instead of pulling his dick out, he gently flexed his bubble butt and thrust it back through my lips, stimulating more blood flow. The gentle tug my lips provided was the necessary stimulus to make it swell into full erection. I was very happy and horny. I pushed down on the shaft of his dick like I was a pussy, and he didn’t pull out. He enjoyed the feeling, and slowly began to fuck my mouth.

It was my first time sucking a boy’s dick. It was sex for the second time in my life- the first was with a girl in the back seat of my car, and when she mounted my dick, I didn’t know what to do. Nobody ever explained fucking, and so I just held it there, motionless, feeling so hot and good, thinking I was making a baby. I was too scared to move. I’d never had an orgasm, and thought the clear precum that dripped from my dick when I got a boner was my semen. When other boys called theirs ice cream, I felt inferior because mine was never like that. Mine was always clear, and just oozed in little drops from my penis. I didn't know that was just precum. Anyway I was sure Jane was pregnant after that night, and I was so scared. Not ready to have a baby.

Just a few months after that awkward date, one day in the kitchen, I was measuring my dick, which at seven inches, was two inches short of what the Medical Self Help dictionary said the erect penis measures. I desperately wanted my penis to reach the nine inch size quoted in that book, not knowing how full of shit the author was. It made me feel small and inferior. I masturbated in attempt to increase my size, not fully understanding what masturbation did, or understanding why the male would feel relief as the guide said. My dick got harder and bigger, and I kept jacking and measuring, thinking I might be on my way to nine inches if I just kept rubbing it. Then a funny feeling came over me, like I was sick at my stomach. The nausea made my dick feel funny, and it began throbbing really violently on its own. Suddenly without warning, a huge fountain of cum shot from my erection, rising almost three feet in the air, falling back to splatter on the tile floor. Again and again I came, making a total mess on the floor. Lucky I was there alone! My ejaculation made me understand Jane was not pregnant. I felt great relief knowing I wasn’t sterile, because that cum was really thick and ropey, like heavy cream.

Al’s erect penis was nine inches, just like the dictionary said. I felt small and inferior, not realizing I was a little above average myself, and that Al was hung, or blessed, or gifted... what ever you want to call it. It was also much thicker than my penis, but I didn’t know how and why that mattered to girls. All I knew is they loved being fucked by Al. As he pumped that dick through my lips, I squinted to stare at his thick, curly pubes, and thought about all the pussy that dick fucked. He didn’t mind fucking my face. I didn’t mind him fucking my face. But I wondered if he would go all the way. I never tasted cum, and if he came, it would be another boy’s cum in my mouth. I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

I wanted badly to see Al’s anus, but his testicles hung down in the way. Never the less, I knew his asshole was where the sexy round curves of his butt came together, still hidden deep in the mystery behind his plump, wrinkly scrotum,

Al stood at the corner of my bed, looking at the picture of Gabby’s hot ass, flexing his thick Latino ass while he fucked my mouth.  I loved that particular picture, and was horny that Al did too, and was using it to drive his boner. I used to imagine being eaten by Gabby, and that picture of her ass was a glimpse of where I might end up. It was a secret, dark fantasy I never shared with anyone because it seemed too weird. I used to think that as a Dutch girl, her digestive system was more powerful and destructive to food than American girls, and I could almost see that thick, knobby grogan slowly crackling from her ass in that picture.

Oh, to be eaten and digested by a girl. I thought that was hot. I tried to imagine being a sentient turd, and as it slid through the girl’s anus, glimpsing the cheeks of her ass on either side, I might have lamented for a moment in woe to what I had become.

I knew Al was thinking more about fucking the pussy. His dick tasted kind of bland at first, but became slippery and really salty because he was so horned up, generating the copious quantity of precum necessary for his women to be sufficiently lubed to receive pleasure from his penis. I realized that was his precum. I had tasted my own enough times to recognize the salty flavor. But there was a different flavor in Al’s precum. Something that reminded me of a meat I once ate. Maybe it was a unique Hispanic flavor. After all, his big brown penis was a little different from mine, aside from being much bigger.

His penis was bicolor- the shaft from his pubes down to where the head was when flaccid was dark brown. From there to the head, where his penis was usually covered in thick wrinkly skin was distinctly lighter in color, and almost marked the measurement different between when his penis was soft, and hard. The head was a purplish tan, the skin different in texture and slippery smooth. He pushed and pulled the head in and out of my lips with short thrusts. I moved with him, under submissive control of his thick, flexing butt.

Then, he put the mag down, craned his head back and closed his eyes, groaning with a creaky voice. He put his hands on the edge of the desk behind my head, and with one knee on the pillow beside my head, lifted the other leg over my body and straddled me. With nothing to stop him, he stiff armed with his chest over my desk, back stiff and arched, and quickly pumped his pelvis with his powerful, flexing ass and fucked my mouth so hard, his testicles flopped and slapped against my chin. His penis erupted in my mouth, ejaculating thick ropes of cum that hit my hard and soft palette and splattered on my tongue. The immediate salty, bitter taste as well as the huge volume forced me to awkwardly swallow while his thrusts delivered more.

He left his dick in my mouth, shrinking and softening, and he kept pumping, driving it in until my nose was buried in the soft curls of his pubes. I swallowed many mouthfuls of his cum. It made me nauseous, and I wondered if it would make me sick, especially because there was so much. I opened my eyes and stared up his heavily breathing torso at his smiling face.

“Mornin,” he said.

Finally Al pulled out and walked out the door to the bathroom. I heard him lift the lid, and his penis erupted in a roiling jet of hot male piss. It reverberated deeply, the toilet bowl amplifying the sound so much deeper and more masculine than my pisses.  It was Al’s morning piss and seemed to last forever. That led directly to another habit another roommate would have found unacceptable and repulsive.  Al never flushed the toilet. I would go into the bathroom afterward and see his huge turd laying in the bottom of the bowl, in the yellow water flavored by the scent of his hot urine.

But I had a reason for not being repulsed.

First time I read The Odyssey in high school, during the chapter about Polyphemus I was thrilled when Odysseus’ men were eaten and Homer described the giant belching lumps of their flesh in his drunken slumber. So thrilled, I got a really hard boner. When the bell rang, I deliberately carried my books in front of my body to hide my boner, lest somebody see it and start a rumor. But I wanted badly to see the result. I wanted to see Odysseus’ men after Polyphemus digested them. I wanted to watch the giant squat and flex, relaxing his anus as he grunted out their digested remains all packed up in nuggets of intestinal waste. Al became my personal Polyphemus.

In our toilet, the surface of the water was covered with a thick foam of white bubbles like the head of a good beer.  I dropped to my knees and rested my arms on the seat, staring at the bubbles, delicately sniffing the musky masculine scent of male urine as they coalesced and popped. Finally the water cleared enough to see details of his turd. Al shit knobby grogans of nuggets and soft muck that must have felt wonderful. His turds were thick like his dick, crushed and formed to the shape of his colon. I stared at them in detail, wondering what he ate, and what it was like to spend the night in his stomach, to come out of his body looking like that. I envied Al’s turds. I fell in love with them. I learned to recognize little bits of visible debris in his feces. Several times I was sure I saw little pieces of corn, or celery, and sometimes a bone, and assumed it was from chicken. I tried to imagine the poor bird in his stomach, maybe after he’d eaten with a date, and was digesting it while fucking the girl. If only I could be in his stomach to experience that!


So as I stared into the toilet at Al’s big turd, I imagined it the remains of Odysseus’ men, admiring it for the repulsive appearance and gruesome condition of all the poor scraps that ended up in his stomach.  Almost every morning I had that opportunity because it was a routine for Al. When he left for his 8m class, I went right into the bathroom to see what kind of present he left me in the toilet.

Once I was horned up enough to reach into the water to touch Al’s turd. It was still warm.  I was not expecting the warmth. But afterward it seemed perfectly logical. After all until it left Al’s body, it baked at nearly a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. Of course it should be warm! The warmth made it almost seem alive, but I knew it wasn’t. To be digested by Al would be a gruesome, repulsive way to die.

When we ate together in the cafeteria, I noticed Al didn’t chew food very much. He took a bite, and rolled it around, tumbling it in lubricating saliva, and then swallowed after chewing very little. Huge lumps of barely chewed food rippled down his throat, dumped in his stomach with the same deliberate intent and purpose with which he fucked pussy.  He swallowed lots of air with his food, and frequently belched to make more room in his stomach. He took what he wanted and filled his belly. Later in the evening when we did homework, I listened to his stomach churn and digest his food. That always gave me a boner.

About 9pm, the phone would ring, and it would be some girl calling for Al. She’d come over and I’d move to the living room area and read while Al and the girl fucked in our bedroom. From the whimpering screams almost every girl made, I knew Al was one virile male giving her the fuck of her life. God how I wished I could watch him fuck, just once. One November Friday night, I decided to stay at my desk and not leave when his girl came over. She was blonde, with curly hair and he called her Feathers. Al asked if I would mind if they fucked, and I said not at all. To my surprise, they didn’t ask me to leave the room, and in ten minutes, Al was horned up and ready to fuck.

His penis was more magnificent than the morning he face fucked me. He ate her pussy for a while, and when she was sufficiently wet and lubed, changed positions to fuck her.  He was way bigger than me, and it seemed even bigger when he was aroused by pussy. It really showed when he mounted her and began to fuck. Nature made him produce ample precum as a kindness to the girl. It drooled from his penis before he penetrated her body. When he pumped inside her, his dick forced excess precum to ooze between her thin, overstretched pussy lips and his dick, where it ran down the crack of her ass to drool onto and stain my sheet. Al’s bed was a mess, so they chose to fuck in my bed.

Feathers moaned like she was in constant orgasm, and maybe she was. After about fifteen minutes, she asked Al,

“Are you getting close?”

Al said, “Yeah, I’m really close to cumming. Where do you want it?”

“Go ahead and cum in my pussy. I don’t think I’ll get pregnant.”

Al pulled almost all the way out several times, showing me the full, magnificent length and girth of his huge penis, and then pushed the whole organ inside and began rapidly thrusting in little strokes, just like when he face fucked me. I knew what was happening. The deep grooves on each side of the thick ridge of his penis glistened in the light as they rippled with muscular flex as I watched his penis pump his cum into Feather’s pussy.

“Ever eat pussy?” Al asked me after he finished.

“Come on over here and try it. Feathers? Can my roommate eat your pussy?”

“Sure, but no fuckin’. I don’t want him fuckin me.  My pussy is too sore .”

I crawled up between Feather’s legs and stared into the black gaping maw of her vagina, still yawning from accommodation of Al’s penis. Her pussy lips were horribly swollen, red and puffy from the huge stretch required to fit his thick dick. Inside, the pink walls of pussy looked like they were coated in hot wax, melting and draining into a thick, deep cream cum lake on the floor. The fish smell was almost nauseating and I didn’t like it at all. But the fresh, nutty scent of Al’s thick, salty cum made the difference, and I eager dipped my tongue in Feather’s pussy, cleaning out Al’s semen.

Finally December came and  asked Al if he had plans for Christmas break.

“Yeah. I’m gonna be fuckin some of the girls I knew in high school who’ve been missing me. You?”

“Just enjoying my time off.”

The conversation drifted around until it settled on us, and I realized I didn’t know much about Al other than his bodily discharge habits. I asked what his major was, assuming it was business or something like that.

“Voreology.”

I didn’t know what that was.

Al explained vore to me, and for the first time in my life, I felt like somebody else understood a deep, dark secret I carried. “Could a guy actually be eaten if he wanted that?” I asked. “

“Would you like to see the lab and department. See what vore studies is about?”

“Sure. When?”

“Doing anything now?”

“Let’s go now. There’s something I’d like to try if you don’t mind.”

We went to the complex adjacent to the gym and sports campus, where he showed me the lab. When he showed me the big cabinets with glass topped drawers full of frozen human turds, I was turned on, but a little nervous about it. It was a side of Al I didn’t know or suspect was there.

“Ever want to be shrunk?” he asked me.

“No, I hadn’t thought about it. What do you mean shrunk?”

“Well, say shrunk… down to the size of a mouse, or fish, or a bug?”

“That’s impossible. What would I do? You aren’t joking with me? You guys can do that?”

“Yeah, we can. How would you like to go back to the dorm in my stomach?”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah. That’s why when we go to dinner, you see me eat without chewing much. I’m practicing. You want to be my first?”

I was understandably nervous when Al asked me to write out this narrative, and then sign a waiver as a consenting adult to declare Voreology my major. While I wrote this story, Al set up everything in the lab he needed to shrink and convert me. I didn’t understand all the technical things he said about space in my molecules and atoms, but he apparently knew what he was doing.

Al slipped a rubber dongle over Jerry’s index finger and turned on some switches on this console. Jerry heard a whir, and all of a sudden, was standing in the middle of his pants leg all crumpled up around him. He felt Al’s hand wrap around his body and pull him out from under his crumpled clothes. He held Jerry in the palm of his hand, right in front of his face, staring down the bridge of his oily brown nose with his soft brown eyes.

“OK, are you ready to see my stomach?” he asked. He handed Jerry a gelatin capsule about as long as his forearm, inside which was some electronic stuff.

“What is this for?” Jerry asked.

“When you reach my stomach, the digestive acids will soften the gelatin and you can tear open the capsule and begin recording what happens. There’s a light, and an acid resistant MP4 recorder. Use that to look around and record what you see and find.”

“Then what? Will you let me out?” Jerry replied.

“Sure.”

Whether Al’s roommate was ready or not, he was committed. With a soft crackle Al smacked his lips and opened his mouth and extended his tongue. When he pressed it against Jerry’s body, his saliva was like glue and the boy was stuck to his tongue. He wrapped his lips around the lad’s torso and slurped him totally inside his mouth. He rolled Jerry two or three times with his tongue, and then unexpectedly swallowed. His unfortunate roommate went down head first involuntarily, pushing the gelatin capsule ahead. It took about twenty seconds for Jerry to reach Al’s stomach. It wasn’t empty, and his dinner was about half digested. He floated somewhat in the hot, soft mush, and groped in the darkness for the gelatin capsule. It was easy to find, and he tore it open where it lay in the mush, the gelatin already softened by Al’s stomach acids. When he switched on the lamp, nothing prepared him for the sight of Al’s stomach from the inside. He switched on the MP4 and it began recording a narrative in text using Dragon.

“Oh my god. I am in Al’s stomach, looking around for the first time. This is fantastic! But I can clearly see I can’t stay in here very long, not if I want to live. He ate hot wings dipped in honey and corn on the cob for dinner. He swallowed the wings whole, bones and all. I can see what’s left. The meat has been completely stripped from the bones and is lying around in soft lumps covered in white foam and bubbles. The meat lumps are mixing with the corn which looks a lot like creamed corn now. I don’t see anything of the glass of milk, but there is a lot of cottage cheese mixed with the lumps of chicken flesh and corn mush. I wonder if milk turns into cottage cheese in the stomach? We never learned that in biology.  Mr. Unger was a retard anyway. He probably didn’t know.

This is an awful place, and I really feel uneasy about being here. I would not want to be here long enough to be digested. I can hear the sound of whatever is going on down in Al’s intestines, and I can tell you from firsthand experience seeing Al’s turds, I wouldn’t want to be down in there going through that. His intestines are rumbling and gurgling almost constantly, and sometimes I can feel some lump of digested food as it is passed through by a muscular contraction pressing against the floor of his stomach below me. The walls and roof of his stomach are soft pink and covered in deep, zigzagging wrinkles of glistening wet muscle, dripping with some awful, greenish yellow slime. There’s white foam and bubbles in large patches on the stomach wall, right above the level of the partly liquefied food. Every twenty seconds or so, I see a wave form in the muscle around the sphincter above me in the roof, which sweeps down past me into the mush of the digesting food. His stomach crushes the food, making it squirt and splatter. I am covered from where it squirts back and splatters on me. There are larger bubbles everywhere, and when they’re squeezed by his contracting stomach walls, they rumble and gurgle. It smells awful in here. Really stank, stale and putrid, like vomit. I can already feel my skin tingling and itching from contact with the stomach acids. I’m glad I’m not really food, and not gonna be in here that long. I’m glad I’m Al’s friend and he said he’d let me out. While it’s fun to think about being digested, the gruesome reality right here all around me is something almost unimaginable.

OK Al, I’m ready to come out.”

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait until I get back to the dorm. Is that OK?”

“Yeah, I guess so. But hurry up. I definitely feel your stomach acid itching and burning on my skin. It’s making the bottom of my feet and my palms itch really bad, and its burning the skin around my balls, my ears, and under my arms. I don’t want to end up like these chicken wings.”

When Al stood up, the contents of his stomach shifted, and Jerry was immersed in the half digested meal. The position of Al’s stomach triggered a more powerful peristaltic wave to sweep down his stomach, violently churning the meal while crushing Jerry.  About once every minute, a really big muscular wave formed and swept down the stomach. Jerry was in deep, deep trouble. Al left the Vore Studies Complex, signing out and dropping the Consent to be Digested form Jerry filled out in the secretary’s in box. Jerry didn’t understand that wasn’t a casual recruitment tour, or what commitment in declaration to major in vore studies meant. Al didn’t go back to the dorm room either, but instead dropped by to see if Kim and Susie were home.

Susie was on her way home for the holidays, but Kim wasn’t leaving until morning, just like Al. Happy to see Al, it didn’t take long for Al to have Kim in bed, and when he slid his big penis into her pussy, the grip of his flexing belly squeezed Jerry who was still alive, but with his hands, feet, ears and genitals already gone to digestion. Asphyxic euphoria overtook Jerry, who watched the flickering light from the LED reflect on the rippling pink ruggae walls of Al’s stomach. The bump and grind of Al’s fuck made the soupy digesta slosh and splatter, tumbling Jerry in the hot juices, rubbing off foamy stomach acid secreted from the flexing walls. Jerry moaned in pleas for help that sounded just like the rumbling gurgle of the digested chicken as it was pumped through Al’s small intestine.

After twenty minutes of intense, hot fuck, Al came and filled Kimmie’s pussy with his thick, hot, pearly white cum.

“Did you enjoy that?” Al asked and then kissed Kim.

“Oh god yeah. You’re the best Al. No boy fucks like you, and your big dick drive me wild. I hope you will call me anytime over the break if you want to get together again.”

Jerry floated as several large chunks of human flesh on bone in Al’s stomach, and as the flesh dissolved, it released oxygen and carbon dioxide gas which bloated Al's stomach. As he walked into Kim’s bathroom to pee, the slosh of Jerry’s remains churned up several colossal bubbles of air and gas, which Al belched as he closed the bathroom door.

“Merry Christmas Jerry!” he said as he patted his belly.”

After Al peed, he returned to bed and spooned Kim from behind, arms wrapped around her just under her tits, covering them with the palms of his hands. The lovers talked for an hour, and that led to another fuck episode because Kim was so horny for Al. After Al came, he lay behind Kim while his stomach violently pumped Jerry’s remains into his small intestine for that stage of digestion. For the rest of the night, Jerry rumbled and gurgled through that sexy, curvy part of Al’s belly between his navel and dick, hot, cozy and comfy as Al converted him into a turd.

“Merry Christmas, Kim,” Al said as he drifted off to sleep. Kim was already asleep. “Merry Christmas, Jerry!” he said as he scratched his pussy and cum stained pubes. “See you sometime tomorrow.”