The following is a fictional story of sex between two fictional characters whom I did not invent.
The principle characters are Tyler Durden and his alter ego, two characters from Chuck Palahniuk's novel and Fox Pictures' movie "Fight Club." It starts as a homosexual story, so hopefully anyone who wasn't interested in such a story noticed that theme on this website and hasn't even gotten this far, but I just put in a little final warning for those of you not interested in homosexual stories.
Since I am using fictional characters which are not my own, this story of course cannot be copyrighted without permission from those over at Fox and Chuck Palahniuk, and I really doubt they would give me permission, considering the subject matter.
I don't think it was a secret that Tyler and I fucked every night after fight club. Usually with each other, sometimes with a guy we picked up at the fight, and sometimes with a chick we picked up along the way.
It started the first night I moved in with Tyler. After enough beer at the bar and our first fight in the parking lot, Tyler took me back to his place and showed me a room. I had just enough energy to pull off my clothes before I passed out on the dirty mattress.
I don't know if it was the sense of someone in the room or his smell that woke me. As I struggled to open my swollen, blackened eyes in the dim light, all I could see was Tyler's hard cock in front of my face.
"What the fuck?" I murmured, still half-asleep and half-drunk from our first night out together.
Tyler didn't answer, but instead slammed his fist in to my abs, causing me to sit up in bed and gasp for air. He wasted no time and took advantage of my open mouth to slip in his cock. Before I could recover from his punch and pull away, he grabbed my head with both hands and forced it down on his hardened rod until my nose was buried in his bush.
Still reeling from the pain of his punch, and now unable to breath, my mind raced to understand what was happening. He pulled back my head just long enough for me to gasp for air before he forced his cock back down my throat. He toyed with me, burying his cock in the back of my throat, his balls on my chin and my nose in his pubes, trapped without air, until I thought I would pass out. When he must have sensed my growing panic, he would pull back my head just long enough for me to grasp for air before he'd plunge his cock back down my throat.
I don't know what was worse: the taste of his piss and sweat coated cock, or the smell of his crotch.
His attack could not have gone on for more than a few minutes before he quickened the pace of my mouth on his cock. Before I had fully awakened from my drunkenness or recovered from his punch, he forced my mouth down on his cock one last time and shot his load of cum down my throat. When I started to gag, he pulled my head back just enough to allow the rest of his cum to fill my mouth.
Slowly, he pulled his cock from my mouth and quickly covered it with his palm.
"Swallow," he commanded. It took three tries before I emptied all of his cum from my mouth. My brain struggled to understand the sticky, salty-hot-milk taste that covered my tongue and was now warming my belly. At the same time, the sweaty piss flavor and aroma from his cock still lingered in my nose and throat.
As he released my head and I fell back on the mattress, I became aware of another sensation on my body, even while I struggled to regain my breath. My cock and balls had a post-release feel and my boxers were wet with cum.
I quickly moved to cover myself, but it was too late.
"What's this?" Tyler asked. He grabbed my wrists to move them away from the wetness on my boxers. When I attempted to resist him, he backhanded me and I dropped back to the mattress.
As I lay there gasping for air, Tyler carefully pulled off my boxers to reveal my limp cock and cum-matted bush. Long past the point of resisting him, I did nothing as he took my cock in his mouth and sucked out the last of my cum. He used his tongue to lap up the cum in my bush, then moved on to lick the saltiness off my balls. I just laid there, mostly in shock, sore from our fight, and humiliated from Tyler's assault.
When he finished cleaning the cum from my cock, Tyler rolled his naked body on top of mine. I tried to look away, but he forced my chin so that we were face to face.
"Open your mouth," he commanded. When I complied, he dropped a large ball of spit in my mouth. The taste, I realized, was the flavor of my own cum and dirty cock. Tyler chased his spit with his tongue, filling my mouth and mixing the flavors from my body with the flavors from his body.
He continued to kiss me until I lost track of the foul taste in my mouth and began to kiss him back. My body responded to his body, pushing back and falling away. We rolled over one another repeatedly, trading top for bottom, relishing each other's bodies, and wincing from our bruises.
We ended up on our sides, by back to Tyler's front, his arms wrapped around me, and my arms wrapped around his arms.
"Tyler," I started to say, but he interrupted me.
"Go to sleep," he commanded.