Captain Drake III

The following body of words contains scenes of language, sex and violence which some readers may find disturbing.

Reader discretion is advised!

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CAPTAIN DRAKE III

“I’m not dead”

It was neither a question nor statement of fact. It sounded more like an uncertain stab in the dark, a blind leap of faith. In Drake’s mind, he should already be dead and well on his way to hell, but he was not. He was not sure what he was, but he did nut feel dead.

“What does dead feel like?”

“Can dead people feel stuff?”

“How come I am the only person in this place?”

“Where is this place?”

The questions burst out of him one after the other one almost without pause; he only just realized that he had no idea where he was. Looking around, he got more confused than ever.

He was standing in a very huge hall that was no less than 200 meters wide and maybe even longer, the floor was tiled with the whitest marble he had ever seen, he could not even see the lines where one tile ended and the next began, the whole floor looked like it was cut from the same piece of rock. There were no windows to speak of – there were, however, several open door ways that lined the length of the hall, each no less than 3 metres high and 4 metres wide. The doors were covered by the purest, softest, frilliest white curtains that Drake had ever seen. He was not close to the curtain, but he felt the material was a blend of silk and cotton or some other expensive material he had no knowledge of. A cool breeze wafted through the open doors; oddly enough, tiny, fluffy looking billows of clouds drifted in and filled the entire hall (not unlike the dry ice and hot water effect) giving the place an ethereal and somewhat sacred ambience.

Within the Clouds…

“Where the fuck is this place?!”

“Language moron!”

“EH?!”

A soft, musical voice reached his ears almost like the person had been standing behind him the entire time. Drake spun swiftly on his heels and jumped back, ready to defend himself if need be. A lady dressed in white sat on an ivory throne that was covered in the purest white fur that seemed to have come from some extinct ancestor of a wolf or polar bear. Her arms rested on the curved armrest of the throne and her head was cocked to the right like she could not understand what manner of stupidness Drake was up to.

The confused fellow just stared with his eyes wide and his jaw hanging loose, not minding if viscous spittle pooled and drooled from his open mouth. She sat gracefully on the throne. Her dress, which Drake now saw was a huge white sheet that was draped on her body and held together by gold chains and a gold sash that functioned as a belt. It had a sinfully deep neckline and the shape of her legs was visible through the material that seemed to be of even superior quality than the curtain. She looked to be no less than 5’8”, and her dimensions were just perfect. Grape sized breasts, slim waist and wide hips that gave her a perfect pear shape. Her thighs looked thick and shapely and though he was not sure, Drake could tell her calves and feet looked just as perfect as the rest of her body.

“Gaaaah!” Unintelligent rubbish fell out of his mouth as he was way too smitten to put words together.

“Wait…” The pretty lady jerked her head back as an uncool thought sprung up in her head, “Are you like… a retard or something?”

‘Or something!’ Drake replied in his head before he shook his head to undo the web that her stunning beauty cast on him. ‘The only thing missing on her is wings’, he thought.

“Where am I?” Drake asked. He was not much of a religious fellow but he was sure this was not the place where the good folks went when they died; for one thing, he was in it.

“Where do you think?” she asked with a naughty smile playing on her lips.

“Yaba Left!” he answered almost as soon as she asked her question.

“Seriously?!” she sat up quickly, shock evident in her eyes.

“No. If I knew the answer, I wouldn’t have asked. Your question was stupid, so I gave an equally stupid answer”, he shrugged, not giving a damn if he offended her or not.

A peal of musical laughter rang through the air as her shoulders shook in mirth and laughter. Milky white teeth flashed behind luscious pink lips as she appreciated his dry humour. She tossed her hair back, revealing a long and beautiful neck that Drake was anxious to wrap his hand around, everything about this lady drove him crazy.

“I like your sense of humour”, she said as the vestige of her laugh sputtered into silence, “So I played a stupid game thus I won a stupid price, eh?”

“More or less”

“Humour me though”, she said as she rose slowly from her throne, walking slowly towards Drake. Her wide hips swayed enchantingly and her full breasts bounced and jiggled in slow motion, driving him mad as he felt restraint slipping. “Where do you think we are?”

“I’ll tell you where this is not”.

“Oh?! Pray tell”

“It’s not heaven!!!”

She burst into another fit of laughter; dainty fingers covered her lips as she closed her eyes, seeming to revel in the fleeting feeling of euphoria that lasts but a few moments.

“Why not?” She asked with a charming smile on her lips. She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Because…” his response sputtered to a halt. With a deft tug of the golden sash that held her robe together, her robe parted and slowly fell free from of her shoulders and drifted to the ground, stirring the soft clouds that played around her knees as she walked towards him.

“Because?…” she echoed, her naughty smile returned to her face.

She was a work of art. She skin was a bright honey-kinda-brown that darkened deliciously at her upward pointing nipples. There was not a single blemish on her skin and she was flat and/or curved perfectly in all the right places. Drake found himself gulping and panting and wondering why he was sweating bullets in such a well aerated room.

“You…” Drake once again found he had lost the ability to string words together to make sentences.

“I…” she still had that heart stopping smile when she came to a stop before Drake, she was looking up at him with hooded lids and slightly parted lips. Her nose was less than 6 cm from his lips and Drake could taste her breath in his mouth, her scent filled his head making him wild with want. She pulled on the sash that held Drake’s robe (much to his surprise, seeing as he had no idea he was wearing a robe to begin with), running her hand over his skin as it fell to the floor. Her fingers seemed to possess some electric charges as he felt a sizzling spark on his skin and he jolted in intense pleasure instead. How he had managed to stop himself from devouring this woman was a mystery to him, but he knew he was close to losing whatever last bit of sanity he had clung to thus far.

“Drake…” her voice was dripping with want and a lust filled yearning that Drake had never witnessed before. She was closer now; her pointy nipples were hot against his ribs. He could almost feel her heart beating behind her breasts. Poor Drake, unable to speak, could only grunt in reply.

“Would you like to find heaven?” she asked, standing in her toes to lick his chin and plant a soft kiss by the side of his lips. “Would you like to find heaven with me?”

Drake was hyperventilating now. Something about her voice, about the way she spoke to him. It was almost impossible for him to resist her, try as he may, he could not remove himself from the sexual fog that was building up in his head. He felt himself going slowly blind. She took one more step, trapping his raging boner in between their bellies.

“Oh Drake… I want you so bad! I want you to…”

“GRRrrr!!!”

Drake finally lost his mind.

Overload…

In the fog that shrouded his mind, he could make out some details, not everything made sense, but he could piece them together to create a somewhat clear picture.

‘Hot damn!!!”

He had her on her knees on a bed that, in his opinion, came out of nowhere, pulling her head so hard that he ground her nose against his groin, he could feel her tongue licking his balls. Now while the actual act of deep-throating was great and all and the rhythmic flexing of her gullet did a pleasurable number on his manhood, he was more impressed by the tongue on his balls. He was, by no means, a small fellow. Hell, he loved to believe he was way above average, he had never met any woman who could take all of him without gagging, now this beautiful stranger was not only taking him and moaning in delight (the moaning brought its own fair share of vibrating goodness to his member), she also had the presence of mind to intensify his pleasure by caressing his sac with her tongue!

He threw her away from him and mounted her. Lifting her legs and pushing them as far as her shoulder, he squatted over her, with a well-aimed thrust, dropped his weight. It was a well executed deep-schtick that drew deep moans from the both of them.

“OOOO!!!” she cried in delight, she reached up at him, caressing his creased brows briefly, she open her arms wide, pushing her legs beyond her shoulders and onto the bed, giving him more access to the innermost recesses of her honeyed depth.

“NNNNGH!!!” she shut her eyes, almost as if she was concentrating on the sweetness of their copulation and did not wish to spare a brain cell on an activity as mundane as looking at the man who was grunting and pounding on her.

Drake looked down, past the beads of sweat that built up on her flesh, past the grape sized breasts that were just bigger than his hands, past her flat stomach and small waist. He concentrated on the place where he stopped and she began, looking in unabashed wonder at the pink vulva that winked at him every time he pulled back and the honey coloured labia that swallowed his mass when he thrust. He noticed the white cream that was churned out of her as he worked her depths and grunted in acknowledgment when he saw how much of it coated his dick.

“Yes! OH!! YES!!!” she was screaming now, flinging her head from side to side in what seemed to be a blend of pain and pleasure. She had her hands on him as well, one hand on his chest to push him away, as though he was being too rough and she wanted out; the other around his neck, pulling him closer to her, almost as if she could not bear the thought of being separated from him. Moving his hands from her breasts he pressed her legs to the bed again and spread his legs such that he was suspended over her upturned ass, his strong arms bearing his weight as he searched for oil in her well from a push up type position. Every thrust pushed her into the bed and the retreat had her chasing after him almost like she did not want to lose the connection.

Overload II…

“Deeep! Wooomb!! DEEEEP!!!” she was barely able to make coherent sentences anymore, but Drake could understand that he was pressing against her womb, which pleased him to no end. The fog was not clearing, but his reasoning was coming in bits and pieces. He began to feel his arms and thighs burning from exertion, he could feel every bit of her tight walls around every inch of his questing member.

‘Shiiit!!!’ he thought, he had never had a woman as sweet and as wanton as this nameless girl he met in some nameless place, he felt the need to own her, mark her, breed her; he did not know what he wanted really, but he was sure he wanted to possess this woman.

“Don’t stop!!! So close!!! PLEASE!!!”

His muscles were burning, he was out of breath and very close to unleashing his load, but he knew he had to carry on, he had to finish with the same stellar performance as when he began. He moved one hand from her legs to wrap it around her neck, cutting of her air supply. He did not know what pushed him to do so, it was unlike him. He usually was not so… violent with his women, but she seemed to be liking it.

“Grghh… rdusid… flshkh!!!” unintelligible nonsense poured out of her mouth as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Drake looked at their point of union again and smiled as a sense of achievement filled him with pride of purpose. A continuous stream of fluid that was the excess her overflowing pleasure dribbled out of her love hole in copious amounts and it splashed everywhere in time with his thrusting member which Drake drove with a renewed vigour.

“BREED ME!!!” she cried, tears rolling down her eyes. Drake could not tell if it was pain or pleasure, frankly, he did not care. He just kept moving his hips in hopes that she held onto him after this session, he wanted to own this one. He felt his threshold break as a wave of intense pleasure seized him. His arms buckled and he dropped unceremoniously on the lady whose body was still wracked with her own orgasm. She did not seem to care that he was pressing his 91kg mass against her frame, nor did she seem bothered by the fact that he was covered in copious amount of sweat; she simply dragged his face to hers and kissed him long and hard as he released his pent up desires within her.

“MOOOOO!” a very unsexy and highly animalistic moan burst out of her. Drake was so startled, he pulled away from her. Her eyes, still unfocused, shone with an intense glimmer as she smiled sexily and licked her lips with a tongue so long it touched the tip of her nose.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

***

Drake opened his eyes to see a long tongue lick a really wide nose, a wave of terrible mouth odour poured out of the open mouth into his nose and equally open mouth.

“Ugggh!” the horrid stench shocked him into wakefulness. He pushed the calf away from his face; he hurriedly took deep breaths, hungry for some fresh air to cleanse his stained lungs.

The air was not fresh; the foul odour of manure of livestock greeted his every breath.

“Cough!!!” he could almost taste the manure in his throat!

“WHY?!” Drake moaned bitterly, wondering what he did to deserve such treatment.

“SHHHHH!” A soft yet firm hand covered his mouth, from the smell and taste of the hand, it had been in the manure as well.

‘OH GOD WHY!!!’ Drake cried in his heart as spit mixed with flecks of manure dribbled down his throat. ‘WHY ME?’

To be continued…

11 thoughts on “Captain Drake III

    1. Bwahahaa!!!

      And there is trouble in paradise it would seem.

      How is it you don’t know that Kane is a deviant, seeing as y’all are sweet on each other anyhow?
      Really, how do you guys get your ‘writers’ rock on?

      Much talk, not enough action?

      Colour me curious

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Father Lord!!!

    Keep this away from reach from children…

    I’m try some of those techniques some time, deep-schtick, was it? Seriously dude, this is something you read with a bottle of Jergins and a wad of tissue by your side.

    Hot damn!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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