My name is Bill and my wife is Abby. We both are twenty-six. We’ve been married for four
years. It was a hot summer night, and Abby was even hotter. She was being fucked by a big
black man who was showing her no mercy. Apparently she wasn’t asking for any mercy.
I looked through the viewfinder of the video camera and watched as he plunged his massive
black cock in and out of her like a jack-hammer, her legs flailing in the air.
I’m getting ahead of my story. It actually started nearly a week earlier.
***
His name is Alvin C, Jones and they call him Bull Jones. I had not seen the man for
nearly four years.
Bull and I joined the Navy at the same time. We were from the same town, but I hadn’t
known him until the day we were all sworn in. We were the same age, but we had gone to
different schools so I never met him. Bull is a large black man who played football and
was pretty good at it because he loved to hit people hard.
Bull and I became close during basic training. Being from the same place among a lot of
strangers, we found ourselves being buddies with one another. After basic training, Bull
was sent to one school and I went to another. A year later we found ourselves stationed at
the same place on the west coast. We got together some then, but not as much as we had in
basic training. We both had grown up some. A year after that Bull got assigned to a ship
and I was off to another school. I happened to run into Bull in Brisbane Australia. My
enlistment was about up, and I planned on getting out. Bull was planning on reenlisting
for another hitch. We spent a few days of liberty hitting the gin mills and whorehouses.
It was in one of the whore houses that I discovered the real reason they called him Bull.
I thought he was killing the poor whore and I went into the cubbyhole where he and his
girl were. I planned on pulling him off the poor thing. I remember the shock of seeing
him fuck that girl with his massive dick. From the door it looked like he was ramming her
with a large brown ball bat. I left them when it became obvious that she wasn’t in pain,
and that she was loving it. Word got around and Bull Jones couldn’t pay for a piece of ass
in Australia.
I got out of the Navy, went home, married my high school sweetheart, and opened my own
video business. I made videos of weddings, reunions, family gatherings and anything that
would make a buck. It was hand to mouth for a couple of years, but Abby and I made it by
working long hours and scrimping where we had to. I branched out into making commercials,
and that proved to be lucrative for my little business. Very lucrative.
Abby and I had a good life for the most part. She didn’t want a family, and frankly
neither did I. Our sex life was on the lower side of great. For me anyway. Abby seemed to
me to be wanting something more. When I asked she always said there was nothing.
Last week, I was in the back room of my shop when I heard the chimes that were connected
to the front door. I went out into the reception room and saw him. The Bull himself was
standing there grinning at me. He was a little bit bulkier, and his head was shaved bald,
but other than that he hadn’t changed much.
“Son of a bitch,” I said. “I knew I should have locked the door. Now look what came in.”
We gave each other a manly hug. “Where did you come from, Bull?”
“I was visitin’ my folks,” he said. “Saw an ad in the paper about some dude doin’ video
work. I said to myself, ‘I wonder if that could be ol’ Bill that I know?’ I got in my new
Lincoln town car and drove over to see.”
“Yeah, I put all that training the Navy gave me to some practical use.” I said. “You
still in?”
“Naw, I got out a couple years ago. Had a little disagreement with the brass, and they
sorta insisted I get out. You doin’ okay?”
“Not bad now. It was a little lean for a while. So what are you doing these days?”
“This and that,” the answered vaguely. “Kinda in between things right now. I came up from
Florida a few days ago. I ran a stable down there for a while.”
“Really? I didn’t know you knew anything about horses.” He looked at me strangely for a
moment then laughed.
“I don’t, you dumb-ass. I ran a string of whores. One of my girls got herself beat up
by a whacko john, and that brought a lot of heat on my operation. I shut it down, and
hauled ass out of town.” He grinned at me, shaking his head. “You are still as dumb as you
were, Billy boy. You married with a bunch of rug-rats?”
“Married, but no kids,” I said. “Come on back. I’ll finish up my project, and we’ll go
get a beer.”
“Or two,” he finished with a laugh. An hour later we were sitting in Murphy’s bar
catching up on each other’s lives. Three beers later, I called Abby at her work, and told
her I was bringing an old Navy buddy home for dinner. Abby was somewhat less then enthused
about it. Abby’s lack of enthusiasm changed even before I got through the introductions.
“Damn girl,” Bull said when she arrived home. “Ain’t you something to look at. How did
Billy-boy land a babe like you?” Bull was always a charmer, and it certainly worked on
Abby. She left us sitting on the patio and went to change out of her work clothes.
“Man, you got yourself some woman there,” Bull said loud enough for Abby to hear as she
walked away from us. I noticed that she put a little more swing into her hips as she
left. “There ain’t no way a little white man, like you, can be takin’ care of business.”
“Down, boy,” I said. “Private property.”
“Sure,” Bull said taking a long swig of beer. “If you need any help tending the grounds,
let me know.”
Abby joined us about thirty minutes later. She had showered, and put on a pair of short
shorts with a little pink halter top. From the sway of her boobs she hadn’t bothered with
a bra. Abby is one of those fortunate women who are heavy breasted, yet doesn’t need
support to keep them from sagging. Her thirty-eight D cup tits stick straight out, a fact
Bull didn’t miss.
I ordered a pizza delivered, and while we waited for it, we drank beer and talked. Abby
hung on Bull’s every word. He regaled her with old war stories about him and me. Some of
it I recognized, and some of it was pure fabrication. Funny, but false.
“Bill, you didn’t tell me about your trips to Australian whore houses,” Abby said with a
smile. We had finished the pizza and were working on the rest of the two cases of beer I
bought.
“Not much to tell,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I was only there to watch
Bull’s back. I was his wingman.”
“Yeah right,” Abby said with a snort. “You didn’t have any of the women, I’ll bet.”
“Of course not,” I said with a straight face. A drunken face, but straight, I thought. “I
was staying true to my girl at home, cause I knew she was staying true to me.” I had
stumbled or staggered, into an area of our past that we didn’t talk about. Abby had never
mentioned it, but I knew she fucked around while I was gone. Our town is still small
enough so that there aren’t many secrets. I hadn’t been home more than a few days when I
was told by several people about Abby. Bull watched this exchange with an amused
expression on his face.
“So, do they call you Bull because you are so big?” Abby asked Bull. Apparently she
realized that we were straying into dangerous territory.
“Naw, all the men in my family are big,” Bull said. “They started calling me Bull back in
high school.”
“Because you were so mean?’ Abby persisted.
“Nope, ‘cause I have a cock like a Brahma bull,” he said as a mater of fact, and without
a change of expression.
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