Big Mort

WC 1920

Big Mort

On the evening shift was a Guard named Big Mortichi. Alfred told him to keep an eye on what Hilda and Petra were doing…it would help pass the time in the evening…Mort took to watching but it wasn’t Petra that he was interested in. He was a lonely man, living by himself, and Hilda always gave him a smile when she passed. It probably didn’t hurt that she reeked of Lialic when she left in the evening but there was something else about the buxom young woman that caught his interest. If the truth be told, a love bee was buzzing around his heart leaving that signature of pollen that does strange things to a man.

As she'd depart in the evening, he'd always stand, smile and hold the door, but she was always too caught up in other things to notice, like her tryst with Petra. No, the last thing she would have ever suspected was a secret admirer; and why would she after all? It had never happened before and there was no reason to expect that it ever would. Plus, Hilda was becoming more and more comfortable in her orientation as a lesbian. The only thing that might have reversed her newly acquired preference was a love for children. She loved kids and not having any made her heart ache.

Hilda had a reputation for massages. It was a sideline that made her a little cash but it also spread some goodwill among her clients. It went without saying that a hand job came with the massages. Some even claimed to have gotten a blow job… but the ones who did the bragging also had a reputation for stretching the truth. Actually Big Mort could not have cared less. Finally he got up the nerve to ask.

“Hilda, I hear you give a great massage and I was wondering if you could fit me in sometime?"

Hilda had been trying to pare down her customer list and was not looking for any new prospects. She would have told him that, but he was so nice and shy and his eyes had a vulnerable look. She knew what it had taken for him to ask and thought, What the heck… and told him to drop by the parlor and she’d fit him in at lunch time. She was running behind when he popped in. It had been a hectic morning and she regretted making the appointment. Still there was no backing out.

"You want it standing up or laying down?"

"Standing up."

"Facing me or against the wall?"

"Facing you."

"Now listen Big Guy," she told him. "This stuff I’m going to rubb on is strong and it can have a powerful effect on a man. I’m going to have to restrain you…sorry, but that’s the way it is. I don’t want to get hurt if you go flying off the noggin."

He shrugged.

"Strip!" she ordered.

He hesitated… he’s not going to go through with it, she thought, almost relieved.

Then he sighed and began taking off his clothes. His nickname was deserved. His shoulders were an axe-handle and his chest was covered in hair. He looked more like a Golden than a human except that his torso tapered into a much smaller waist and his abs were well defined. His hips were like melons and firm muscles rippled beneath. His arms were the size of Hilda's thighs and that was making a strong statement.

When he was stripped to the waist, she pulled the stool next to him and stepping up, took hold of the ceiling restraints. They were leather straps, suspended from chains with a cast iron binder to cinch them tight. She strapped the cuffs around his wrists and pulled down on the binders, leaving just enough tension so his huge hands could twist around and grip the chains.

She looked into his eyes and read plainly the discomfort on his face. It must have been hard for him to come down here, she thought as his face flushed.

"Relax," she said and unbuckled his belt. Then she unbuttoned the large waist button followed by the smaller ones along the crotch seam. She pulled the cotton fabric over his hips and down around his knees.

"Step out."

She looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. He's like a big teddy bear, she thought. Taking his underwear she tugged them down. His manhood sprang free, slapping up against her face.

"Sorry," he whispered in a barely audible tone.

"Happens all the time, don’t worry about it."

His schwantz was proportioned to the rest, which meant it was large. It was one of the biggest phallus she had ever seen and she had seen plenty. It was eight inches long and one and a half in the girth. It's a real twot reamer, she thought.

Dropping to her knees she cinched down his ankle restraints. Standing, she said, "Ready?"

He nodded.

Taking a beaker from her work shelf she poured it half full of a purple liquid. It was the oral dose of an aphrodisiac, called French Lilac. This draught acted internally, when the lotions and salves were absorbed into the skin. She held the cup to his lips and he drank it down. Standing on the stool she took a bottle of the lotion and began spreading it on his neck and shoulders. Her fingers were strong as she worked it in moving gradually down onto his chest. Then she took the stool behind, starting once more at his neck and rubbing it into his shoulders and back.

She paused and he heard the sound of buttons and the rustle of fabric. He saw a bare arm extend and drop her blouse on the floor. This was followed by her bra. Her fingers began working faster and the pad of her hands pressed harder…He felt the slick tension of sweating breasts sliding along his back. Her arms reached around and began rubbing lotion into his abs. The press of her hard textured nipples sent a shiver down his spine. He looked down as his phallus strained for relief. He began thrashing on the chains as the arousal took full effect.

It was both physical and drug induced, sensuous and painful, beautiful and urgent, raw and primordial. He groaned as she rubbed more onto his stomach. Her hands slipped behind, massaging his buttocks, and with one began applying lotion into the cleavage, circling a tip about his anus. With the other she reached around and took hold of his erection. He wrestled against the chains as she began jerking back and forth. Dipping into the salve she slipped an index finger up his bung. The effect was instantaneous and he gasped. Reaching around she smeared the rest across the mushroom. His heart clutched, stopping for a beat. He surged on the restraints and she feared he might tear them from the walls.

"Easy big fellow," she said with a soothing voice. He responded, struggling to relax. Then she started to stroking from both ends and he really came unglued. His respiration became fast and he started to snort.

Hilda had given hundreds of these massages without ever feeling even a twinge of sexual arousal. Petra always put her in a lather but it had never happened before with a man. As a result she was surprised when her breath quickened and heart began pumping fast. What is this? she thought to herself?

Using her naked breasts pressed against a client's back was a signature move. This was a unique sensation that really excited her male clients, but one that had, here-to-for, left her, pretty much non-pulsed. Now, however, her nipples began to ache and she experienced a wetness in her crotch.

She was still a virgin. Probably will die one she often reflected, bitter on the one hand because it meant she would never have children, but comforted of late by her blooming relationship with Petra. For the first time the thought of doing it with a man flooded into her imagination. As the urgency in Mort grew, she felt her own body reciprocating. What the hell is happening? she thought to herself, and from somewhere inside, a voice answered, What the hell do you think?

Stepping off the stool she brought it around and took a seat. Her face became more and more flushed. She continued to massage his member, licking her lips and enjoying his response. He was thrusting back and forth and she ducked her head, dropping between his thighs. Her hands were starting to shake as she spread more lotion along his legs and calves.

She was assailed by wicked thoughts and fast losing control. Wantonly she hiked up her dress and began a lewd dance. It was improvised and consisted of jiggling her breasts and twirling like a dervish. She stopped suddenly and struck a lurid pose.

What has come over you? she wondered. In was surreal. She watched herself almost from a detached point of view, obscenely spread her knees. Beckoning she motioned with one a finger and with the other pointed into her vagina.

Mort groaned, straining to get at her.

"Want to tame me big guy?" she teased.

He thrashed about, mad with desire.

She pulled a bench over and stepped up. This brought her crotch to a level slightly higher than his. Taking hold of his cock she squatted, guiding the head inside. At first it didn't want to go but by twisting the tip back and forth it entered and began slipping deeper. Suddenly she felt a sharp sting rending her hymen membrane. I've just been deflowered, she realized. Her emotions became hysterical, alternating between laughing and crying. It hurt but the anguish was sweet, mixed with a bitter anticipation. Anxiously, she wiped away the perspiration.

What happened next was a rookie mistake, uncharacteristic of an experienced milker. She got some of the salve on her lips and nostrils.

The effect was immediate and sent a jolt through her body. In an instant the pain dissolved, transformed into a delicious thread. It grew into a worm, squirming between her legs. The imagery in her mind became stark and vivid She began hallucinating, imagining the forked tongue of an asp, spitting in and out. Eagerly she grabbed his hips, thrusting deep. With abandon, she wallowed, quivering in a throes of euphoria. Her buttocks thrashed, up and down, in a frenzy of wild intercourse. Time passed in slow motion, clutching Mort, clinging to his waist, answering his powerful body with the energy and strength of her own.

At length, he cried out and she gave him a bear hug. Then came the torrent, soaking her soft tissues with spurts of semen. Spasm after spasm squirted into her womb until the last of it emptied in a final gush of relief. Hilda continued to thrust, left behind and frustrated, as the hard sinew of flesh, slowly began to relax. Tears came to her eyes

"Aw Shit!" she groaned, still joined to the flaccid manhood. She squeezed her sphincter one last time and felt the distant squeak of a fleeting orgasm.

After awhile he fell out, and her heartbeat began returning to normal. Releasing him from her clutch, she stepped down from the bench. Taking a basin of warm water Hilda sponged away the dried blood and semen. Then, she cleaned Mort's organ. Untying the restraints she helped him down. He was exhausted, but his eyes sparkled with adoration.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am," he answered.

WC 1920