By Sir Roberto Wilde III
Duke of Cockswell
The notorious London fog smothers the city every night, signaling men and women to sleep soundly in their beds as a reward for an honest day’s work. As for the not-so-honest, they wander amongst the mist in an attempt to hide from their demons or seek out their next victims who got lost on their way to their comfy beds.
Dr. Henry Jekyll is still deciding whether he’s hiding or seeking.
He feels as though he has been walking for days as he stops mid-step on the brick roads to rub his throbbing thighs underneath his trousers. “How can I be so tired?” he thinks to himself as he adjusts his collar.
Henry rubs his hands together as his visible breath tells him that he needs to warm himself with a drink. Normally he would quench his thirst in the privacy of his study. But tonight, the last thing that Henry needs is to be alone and be reminded of the sinful thoughts that he, himself, cannot tame.
He hastens his step in anticipation of a drink but what he wants most is to release the ailment that is manifesting within him as well. He arrives at The Penny Farthing, a pub reserved strictly for the outcasts where alcohol runs free and the women even more so. Henry takes a seat at the bar as the candles bathe his body in an inviting amber glow, chiseling out his square jaw and sullen brown eyes.
“Whiskey, any kind will do,” he says to the bar maid. Moments later, he’s savouring the warm liquid, tasting each drop with the swish of his tongue when a man approaches. “Have we met before?” he asks.
“My name is Dorian. Dorian Gray. I feel as though I’ve seen you before, those brown eyes. What’s your name?”
He stands up to leave but Dorian entices him to stay. Dorian grins with his blue eyes peeking behind strands of blonde hair hitting his face. “Have a seat, I’ll buy you another whiskey.”
The men sit back down under the red glow of the chandelier as clinking glasses from the tables behind them chime along to the lone violin that’s being played in the far corner.
The light turns the paleness of Dorian’s almost-translucent skin into a healthy, rosy glow. The loosened tie around his neck teeters back and forth as Dorian leans in toward Henry, pointing down to the outline of his dick that Henry can’t take his eyes off of. “It’s alright,” Dorian whispers as he gets off his barstool and takes a step closer, pushing Henry’s legs apart so that he can stand in between them, feeling the heat from his moistening cock.
He smiles coyly and takes one of Henry’s hands and places it on the outline that he’s been staring at. “It’s such a nice package, it’ll be a shame if you don’t open it.” Henry’s brown eyes brighten with curiosity and he presses his hand against the crotch of Dorian’s grey wool pants. His fingers cup Dorian’s smooth balls as he gently moves his hand up and down with increasing speed. But Henry suddenly stops, realizing that he’s succumbing to the immoral thoughts that have corrupted the good people of London.
He takes his hand away, wipes away any trace of Dorian from his lap and spurts toward the back alleyway, almost knocking Dorian and his stool over. “What am I doing?” cries Henry as he sits down on the dark, narrow brick road with his head in his hands. The doctor is shaking in fear and confusion as he stares at the brick wall of the butcher shop in front of him.
The smell of rendered pork fat and rotten vegetables suddenly jog his memory. “I’ve been here before!” he exclaims as memories flood his consciousness. He remembers the frenzy of limbs intertwining amidst the groans and grunts expelling into the cold summer air. He remembers the pile of shirts, trousers and coats that he was standing on as he ravaged his not-so-virgin hole to pieces with mutual pleasure.
However, as he recalls, it wasn’t he who tasted the moist flesh of the young man he bent over, clutching his hair for support as he pulled the man into him over and over again. “I don’t bite,” chuckles Dorian as he stands in the doorway behind the sitting Henry. Dorian slouches down to rub his shoulders then peels back his shirt to feel the pecs underneath.
He feels down to his inner thighs before moving back up to slip his hands into his trousers. Dorian nibbles on Henry’s ear, slowly slipping his serpent tongue in to whisper, “I quenched your thirst and now it’s my turn.” A rush of euphoria submerges Henry into a daze. His eyelids get heavy, his back arches and he lifts his head to let out a quiet moan to surrender. But suddenly a jolt goes through him, sending Dorian to fall on his backside. Henry is in shock, his whole body shakes and he is now crying in pain.
The sweat from his brow is no longer from intrigue but rather it’s pure savagery. Dorian cannot help but look up in horror as the man he had just met is transforming into a juggernaut of muscles and veins. Henry’s shirt bursts open as his muscles explode into a huge, God-like mass. His biceps double in size and veins overflow with blood, causing them to pop out making his arms look like a road map. His trousers can’t stand up to his bulging thighs that are now as thick as a black panther.
His neck is a tree trunk, holding up a head with eyes that are now red with anger. But what made Dorian’s eyes widen in disbelief was Henry’s cock growing to an astonishing 10 inches with purple veins spiraling up the shaft and to the head, now dripping with pre-cum. His timid, shaky voice deepened to a demon-like command as the six-foot-five beast looked down at Dorian.
“You want a drink?” he bellows. “Here’s your fucking drink!” Dorian trembles with a cold rush of fear and excitement through his body. Henry takes his massive, gorilla-like hands and holds Dorian’s head like a ball, forcing his 10 inches into his mouth. “My name is Hyde!” he exclaims, thrusting his fat cock deeper into his mouth.
“Eat my fucking cock, boy!” Dorian struggles to wrap his mouth around the fat cock that was easily the circumference of four sausage links. His lips pushes back Hyde’s foreskin and his tongue licks the cock slit, swirling around the head like a child with a lollipop. Sucking the juice out of Hyde as he unbuttons his own pants, Dorian pulls out his equally impressive eight inches and strokes it with his right hand while squeezing Hyde’s kiwi-sized balls with his left.
Hyde continues to fuck Dorian’s face as his hands run over his body, removing the shreds of clothing that were hanging on. He groans loudly as Dorian’s hand moves from his balls to his ass where he slowly inserts two of his fingers with a come hither motion. Dorian looks up with a smile in his eyes, knowing that his master is pleased.
He bobs his head back and forth, not wasting a single inch of Hyde’s beast-hood as pre-cum starts to trickle down his chin and splash onto his own cock. “Let’s get the real shit started,” Hyde grunts as he draws away from Dorian’s pursed lips. He pushes Dorian on all fours and rips his shirt and pants completely off with as much ease as tearing a letter in two.
Hyde steps behind him and, without any hesitation, enters his firm ass hole with ease. Dorian contracts, arching his back in pleasurable pain and shouts, “Ooh, Hyde, fuck me, don’t stop!” He doesn’t care that his knees are starting to bleed from kneeling on the cold brick road or that half of his body is covered in greasy dirt from the rotting cabbage on the ground — all he wants is to be ploughed, hard. Hyde wastes no time with being gentle and pushes himself deeper into Dorian’s hot hole.
His hands explore every inch of Dorian’s pale flesh: pulling, scratching and clenching.
His teeth graze his back and shoulders, biting down hard to taste his youth.
His head reaches for Dorian’s as they lash their tongues out at one another, intertwining in a fury of carnal heat and creating a sweet and salty mix of saliva and cum. The two rock as one, back and forth, back and forth.
Dorian tries to squirm forward but Hyde just pulls him back in to unleash a more relentless fuck than before. He is helpless. It’s a battle between a rag doll and an elephant. Hyde’s tongue alone forces its way past Dorian’s ass rim and into his man pussy far more than Dorian’s cock could ever with Hyde.
“You like this, don’t you?” Hyde laughs. “You love to be fucked, don’t you? Your asshole isn’t as tight as I thought it would be, you little slut! Good thing that my cock is big enough to give you a little stretch!”
Dorian pants louder and louder as his asshole can’t take it anymore. He has to shoot his load. He crawls forward so that Hyde will be out of him. He lies on his back, stroking his cock, ready to explode on Hyde’s chest.
“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum!” he yells. Dorian squeezes his ass and drives his torso to the sky, shooting his creamy essence all over Hyde’s hairy chest. He licks his lips and collapses in exhaustion. But they aren’t done yet.
Hyde grabs Dorian’s disheveled blonde hair, now covered in mud and pieces of rotten vegetable, and forces his cock back into his lips. Hyde propels forward so hard that his cock almost breaks through Dorian’s skull.
He continues to fuck his face, getting closer and closer to his climax. “Here’s your drink you fucker,” roars Hyde. With one final thrust, he clenches his buttocks and tightens his thigh muscles, revealing their definition even more. A grunt that could be heard a mile away signifies the geyser of cum that bursts into Dorian’s mouth. It’s so much that he can’t hold it all in.
He openes his mouth to reveal a buttery waterfall dripping everywhere as he rubs the overflow all over his body, mixing it with his own cum. Hyde leans down, pressing himself against Dorian’s shivering body in the cold night and gluing them together with the hot fluids. Their cocks kiss and so do their lips, gently this time.
They embrace each other in their arms before falling asleep right there on a pile of torn clothes. When the sky turns into a purplish-blue the next morning, the two men wake up, feeding off the body heat from each other.
Dorian, with his head resting on Hyde’s chest, looks up to see that it wasn’t Hyde at all! “Good morning Dr. Jekyll,” smiled Dorian calmly. “I never forget a pair of eyes like that.”