Page 17 of Believe in Caloosa Springs (Caloosa Springs #3)

Christian

I fiddled with the ends of the rope Porter had used to tie me to the stake. By stake , I meant the wooden broom handle we’d stuck down into an old flower pot and then filled it with gravel. I loved how handy Porter was. He was good at rigging up all kinds of stuff for us. We’d gotten some weird looks from the hotel staff as we carried all this shit in from the hardware store. I smiled, imagining what they must have thought we were doing. I wonder if crafting a makeshift stake to fuck me over had crossed their minds.

I squinted at the GoPro on the tripod across the room to see if the light was on, then shivered as a chill ran down my naked body… what the fuck was taking him so long?

“Porter?”

Not ten seconds later, the bedroom door opened and Porter appeared, framing himself in the doorway. On his head sat a tall pilgrim’s hat adorned with a golden buckle. He was wearing a black tunic top with white fabric flaps draped around the shoulders, accompanied by black breeches that went down to his knees. The trousers overlapped knee-high white socks. He had cut the crotch out of the costume’s trousers, allowing his hard cock to emerge. The small silicone ring I’d affixed to the base of his cock a few minutes ago doing its intended job of keeping him thick and full.

I hadn’t seen him in the costume yet, and I was too late to stop the fit of cackles that took over. I turned my head to the side and bit my lip. Fuck, I was gonna have to edit this whole part out.

Porter donned a cocky half-smile and walked into the room, the head of his thick cock reaching me eight inches before the rest of him did.

“What do you have to say for yourself… witch ?” Porter spat very convincingly.

I smirked. “That I hope the pagans and spiritualists don’t cancel us for this.”

Porter raised an eyebrow. “Flamingo?” he asked hesitantly, suggesting our cut word.

I shook my head and focused, clearing my throat and raising my voice an octave above my normal speaking voice.

“Isn’t there something I can do to prove that I’m a good boy?” I asked, keeping my voice high with fake pleading.

“The only way to save yourself is to suckle upon my holy scepter until you are bathed clean with the blessed seed of the Lord,” he intoned.

Porter skipped to the highest point of the stepladder he’d placed off to the side, more or less lining his crotch up with my mouth. He took the root of his cock into his hand and smacked the side of my face several times with his dick. Porter jerked himself enough to coax a small bead of pre-cum from his slit and wiped it across my closed lips like chapstick. My own dick stirred, tenting the loincloth I was wearing.

“Open your foul, silky mouth, devil.” Porter grabbed a handful of my hair in his fist and held the base of his dick as he slid his fat tip past my lips. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out in the back of my throat, my lips smashed tight against the fingers he used to hold his base.

He held my head in place and his cock in my throat until I gagged on it. He pulled out slightly to let me recover and then pushed back in. He cradled my head in his arm as he thrust in and out of my throat. Choked tears misted my eyes, threatening to spill over as I willed my throat to relax. Porter pulled out of my mouth and I craned my neck to suck his balls into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Porter groaned, as I rolled his sack around my mouth with my tongue. “Suck my fucking nuts.”

The filthy talk and the taste of his skin had my dick standing straight up to my belly button. I let go of his balls. He grabbed my chin and tilted my face up towards him. He leaned over on the stool and spit into my open mouth before grabbing a fistful of hair and shoving his cock back down my throat.

I could feel myself dripping down my shaft every time the small fan in the corner oscillated towards us.

Porter was the sweetest, most caring person I’d ever been with. He was also the filthiest, which made me love him even more.

I found myself asking on a daily basis how I’d gotten so fucking lucky. Porter wasn’t the man of my dreams. My feeble attempts at imagining my perfect man had fallen drastically short of the miracle god had given me when he sent Porter crashing into my life with poison flowers and a lopsided smile.

I was pulled back to the present as my throat tightened up and Porter gagged me again.

“That’s right, you fucking heretic… I’m gonna suffocate you with my cock.”

My eyes began to water and my hips began to buck at the air, my weeping cock desperate for friction against… anything . I don’t know if it was the blasphemy or Porter’s forcefulness, but none of my enthusiasm was just for show. Raw need gripped my spine, adding a feverish element to the blow job.

Porter pulled his dick out of my mouth and slapped the side of my face with it, leaving a wet streak of spit and pre-cum across my cheek. Then, he made quick work of untying my hands from around the broom handle and ‘forcing’ me to bend over face-down across the side of the bed. Kneeling over the bed like that and spreading my legs gave the camera an unobstructed view of my hole. Porter reached down and slowly pulled the black plug he'd inserted earlier, making me moaned at the sudden loss and feeling of openness.

Porter grabbed the bottle of lube from the small table and the toy we’d set there. It was a thick, white dong with good girth to it. It would look striking on camera, I thought.

“You’re gonna learn about the Holy Spirit today, boy…” Porter spat in a ridiculous southern accent. I didn’t want to break the scene to tell him we’d apparently moved from the Salem With Trials to Deliverance , so I ignored the twang and bit my lip. The camera couldn’t see my face, fortunately. I was just glad that Porter was embracing his inner actor.

“ Oh. ” All thoughts about the production were forced out by the delicious burn of the toy breaching my tight ring of muscle. It wasn’t bad; he’d done well to open me up before the scene and hold me there with the plug. The toy wasn’t as thick as Porter was, and that was slightly disappointing. I knew it wasn’t in the plan to have him fuck me in the scene. Not with his cock, anyway.

Once the toy was buried as deep as it would go, Porter gripped the flared base and twisted it around in a full circle.

“ F-fuck !” I damn-near screamed, but Porter didn’t relent. He twisted and twisted, an overwhelming experience.

Between groans, I subconsciously reached my hand behind me to claw at him, but he smacked my hand away. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself, sinner,” Porter spat. “I decide when you’ve had enough.”

I felt like I was going to melt into the mattress when Porter pulled the toy halfway out and used both hands to slam it back into me. “ Oww! Fu- fuck!”

I could hear Porter snickering evilly as I screamed and started humping the mattress.

Porter pulled the toy out and immediately shoved his fingers into its place. “Yeah, you filthy little bitch. You gonna come on my fingers?”

He pushed his fingers in deeper and curled around my prostate, making my head lift off the bed. I closed my eyes. The room began to spin as he prodded the spongy spot over and over and over. Between that and the friction of the bedsheets against my sticky slit, I was not a functioning human any longer.

Porter swiftly flipped me over and onto my back before shoving the silicone dildo back inside of me. He pumped my weeping cock with his hand as he fucked me with it.

I watched between teary, half-closed eyes as cum spilled out of my slit like a faucet, covering Porter’s fist and pooling on my belly. Porter scooped it up in his hand and used it to slick his own cock. He manhandled me off the bed and grabbed the back of my head with his free hand as I knelt before him, my tongue hanging out of my mouth ready to catch every drop he was about to give me.

The wet, sloppy sound of him fisting his cock with my release was intoxicating. “Oh, fuck!” Porter groaned as he lined himself up a few inches from my waiting mouth. I watched as Porter’s face scrunched up with the force of his release spreading through him. His first shot hit the back of my throat and covered my tongue despite his dick not actually being in my mouth. The next few streaks landed on my lips and up across the bridge of my nose.

The second he was done spilling, I pitched forward, swallowed his swollen tip and suckled on it while Porter’s legs trembled and he gasped. I sucked on his head until the sensation became too much, and he pulled me off of him by my hair before claiming my mouth with his. His ragged breaths came hard and fast through his nostrils as he tried to recover.

After a moment or two of recovery, Porter walked over to the camera and turned it off. A huge smile spread across his face as he leaned through the bathroom door and grabbed a towel from the counter.

“Let’s just take a shower,” I suggested, walking into the bathroom behind him.

“That sounds delightful,” he said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he tossed the towel aside and turned on the shower spray. “What time does our flight leave, again?”

“Ugh,” I groaned, “4:45 in the morning.”

Porter frowned. “That’s less than ideal.”

I nodded. “Yeah we have to be up crazy early. Are you gonna manage?”

Porter laughed, and looked over at me. “Am I gonna manage? I’m always up early. It’s you I’m worried about, Mister I went to jail after fighting a cop over a tail light because it was seven in the morning, and I hadn’t had my coffee yet .”

“Who pulls someone over before noon?” I asked indignantly. “He was asking for a fight. Besides, it was just Wyatt. It’s not like I went to real jail, or anything.”

“Baby, he put you in handcuffs, took you to the jailhouse, and wouldn’t let you out until I personally came down and got you. When someone in law enforcement physically detains you, puts you in the back of his car, and puts you behind bars until a responsible adult comes to pick you up… that’s jail.”

I scoffed and scooted next to him to test the water temperature. “Fuck Wyatt.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t. But, as long as I got to watch it, I guess it’d be okay.”

I flipped him off and stepped into the shower, letting the warm spray wash over my sticky body. “Wyatt’s a little dark and brooding for my taste. You ever just look at someone and know they’ve killed people?”

“I don’t know about all that,” Porter shook his head as he stepped into the space behind me. Steam swirled around our spent bodies. “Seems nice enough to me. How’s your ass?” His abrupt change in subject caught me slightly off guard. “Was I too rough?”

I turned around to face him and smiled. “Is there any such thing?”

Porter smiled and gently brushed his lips against mine before grabbing the loofah hanging on the shower nozzle and beginning to wipe me down with it.

He’s always so tender…

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

Porter seemed to think about his answer for a moment. “I’m a little nervous about traveling to a new country for the first time, but I think I’m mostly excited.”

“I’m excited that they agreed to let you come with me and take us onto the show as a package deal.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing my lips again as he reached for the body wash on the shelf behind me. “We still have a couple days to explore before the contract starts, right?” He soaped up the loofah and started to clean me off, beginning at my neck and down my chest and abs.

“Yeah. We have six days, actually. Well, five if you count the 14-hour flight.”

“Mom texted me this morning to have a good flight. She thought we left today.”

“That was nice of her,” I replied, lathering my hair with shampoo as Porter continued to meticulously clean every inch of my skin with the sudsy sponge. I leaned back and let the spray wash over my head and rinse the shampoo out. “Any word from your dad?”

“Nope. Mom keeps saying that he needs some time to wrap his head around all of this, but the problem is, I don’t care if he comes around or not. I’m perfectly satisfied with my decisions, and it’s on him whether he wants a relationship or not. I am happy my mom’s coming around, though. That was unexpected.”

“They seem like good people, Porter. Misguided, for sure, but they love you.”

“And I love you, Mr. International Porn Star.”

“We’re not international, yet,” I reminded him.

“I don’t know about that,” he countered. “We’ve got over 60 people from outside the U.S. that subscribe on OnlyFans. And I have a feeling that, after this pilgrim show, we’ll have a lot more.”

I rinsed off as Porter made quick work of scrubbing himself down, and I stepped out of the shower to give him room to rinse.

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked.

Porter turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist. “Well, we’ve hit all the New York City staples. Pizza, Chinese food, bodega deli sandwiches, bagels for breakfast.”

I sighed. “I’m kinda wiped. We’ve been walking around this city for three days, and you just fucked the last bit of energy out of me.”

“Do you want to just lay in bed naked in front of the television and order room service?” he suggested.

I sighed happily. “Ugh, that sounds amazing!”

“Then you got it, my love. Go find us something to watch, and I’ll start going through the food menus.”

I walked back into the main room of our hotel suite and flopped down on top of the bed. As I stared up at the high ceiling, I sent off a silent prayer that I would maintain this exact feeling for the rest of my life.

“Thank you for bringing us together,” I whispered. It didn’t matter who was listening. It was the message that counted.