The Gruesome Twosome by CunterSThompson

A literotic sexstories: The Gruesome Twosome by CunterSThompson ,
But what goes up must come down. The car crashed back to earth as Ryland stamped his foot on the accelerator. “HEY YOU FUCKIN’ SHARDED CUNT! NEARLY HIT ME!”.

The angry voice was cut off abruptly as The Unleashed Junglecat furiously accelerated towards the town in his Australian-made V8. The apshalt bruised beneath the screeching rubber. It was in the depths of this angry/hateful/lustful binge that Max found himself a peaceful and somewhat serene place. A moment of clarity, for those more experienced users. He tried to hazily replay his memory of the night before .

He and Ryland had headed to the Mountains for one final, meaningful Trip. A note of finality before he leaves the country to further pursue his studies.He had seen Fung. Thats right! A friend from his University days. He comes and goes. And what were they doing now? Ravaging many miles down a quiet country street in the search of the ever elusive vertical smiles. They had been working these past few months, they were looking to get their moneys worth. As he tried to reclaim his hazy memory and purpose, Ryland got lost in the befuddled look Max creates when attempting to solve a problem. He got anxious when Maximillan began to gently chew his lip. Fortunately, he was yanked back to reality by the clanking of the gears and he felt the pressure within him begin to rise. Irrationial anger, irrational fear. These were new to Ryland. His blood began to boil, his arms tensed and he felt a familiar throbbing sensation from the depths of his loins.

An erection had started to swell.

He couldn’t hide it, he couldn’t repeat the process of flipping his member under his belt. He was half-deluded in this crazed, manic state. Max noticed. Out of the corner of his eyes, he recognized the gentle pulsating of penis against material. His palms began to sweat. He licked his lips and gazed brazenly at the winding country road ahead of him, trying desperately to recall last nights events. Ryland glanced at Max, surely he had not seen his penis. The salami began to tighten and push against the inner zip of his pants. The current objective was simple, relieve sexual tension. But the reason for which remained somewhat unclear. The only thing that Ryland could know for certain was that the taste of cock in his mouth was overwhelming.

Fung eagerly sniffed the fresh mountain air and his mind set to the only task it could. His eyes fixated on the Forrest floor, scouring the foliage embellished with the titillating quivers of shadows cast from the eucalyptus leaves far and high above.
“Fuck! It’s fucking beautiful as shit out here!” exclaimed Ryland.
“Buddy, I’ve worked in a maximum security prison for nine years and that’s still the gayest shit I’ve heard.”
Ryland’s lips parted slightly, taking an embarrassingly long time to respond, he thought to himself of his masculinity and its depletion, in the face of Max’s arrogance.
“Fuck you, Max!”
Their petty pleasantries were disrupted as Fung yelped. “I found the mushrooms”. Fung’s broken english conjured images in Ryland’s mind of previous incidences of decadence and debauchery. The presence of these strange yellow foreigners in Ryland’s adult life punctuated every instance of his carnal sexual congress and exuberant drug use.
Fung presented a surprisingly large quantity of psychedelic Funghi, all held within the drooping folds of his stretched hoodie.
“Lets eat gayboys!” exclaimed the jovial Chinaman.
The shrooms were evenly distributed amongst the budding psychonauts and were soon sliding down the gullets of the unwary travellers.
“How long do we have?” asked Ryland.
“7.2 inches! YEAH BABY!” Max motioned towards the visible bulge in his pants.
A silent moment passed as the Chode and the Chinaman considered the behemoth that was Max’s niggercock (Maximus Niggercock they used to call him in their High School days).
“You should feel it soon,” said Fung calmly as he slid his hand onto Ryland’s leg.
“You guys are fucking gaylords, you should take your shirts off and kiss,” said Max, as his voice trailed off. His attention tended to be tenuous and his thoughts would erratically spring to the depths of his dark psyche.
“You sick fuck Max.” Ryland said angrily.
“Hey Ryland man, just chill out. Just touch my nipples, they so HARD right now!”
“You can fuck right off Fung, you yellow fuck.” Ryland stood up, “You guys are going to fuck my trip up, you guys are retards, sincerely. I need to go smoke so many cones now.”
Ryland left the gruesome twosome around the fire pit to hotbox the campervan solo. Ten minutes past but through the thick smoke that filled the air in the cramped cabin there was no possible way to see outside. Ryland emerged to find the world outside much more beautiful. A sense of awe had overcome him.
“You guys feel anything?”
Max was gone. Physically there, though totally unresponsive, slack-jawed and drooling. Fung walked right up to Ryland and stood right before him, terrified, Fung stammered:
“Ryland, I must go. You bad man. I cannot trip with a rapist.”
And with that. From the top of Fung’s head his entire being unravelled in a long ribbon blown far into the darkness of the woods.

The only thing that Max could know for certain was that he had ejaculated last night. Glancing out the window he recognized some familiar faces. He yelped and beckoned to his faithful….sidekick. Ryland saw the cheery grins of some friends of his. Sadun and Mario. The car was set to idle as this short exchange was had:

“Hey dude, we got shard.” stated the blue-hoodie wielding individual.
“I sampled it myself!” eaglery stated the Mario,
“This SHIT is TIGHT, TIGHT , TIGHT!” they said in unison.

A bag was flung and talk of financials was discussed. The parted ways in a plume of acrid-grey smoke and the smashing of a glass bulb due to Max’s retardation. Spinning tyres, screeching of rubber on tarmac. Their mission resumed.

Max’s curiosity about the state of his cock (and the sizeable portion of meth he has just smoked) got him “itching” to check. He glanced at Ryland and could see what appeared to be a spider on Rylands penis, common side effect of methamphetamine abuse, he thought to himself. He created a barricade with the pile of Maccas bags. He needed to inspect his penis. It was at that instant that the Beast next to him roared.
“Holy SHIT dude! There’s a spider on my dick, get it off.”
An Australian Red-Back, one of the most venomous spiders in the world. Without hesitation he reached across and grabbed it. And in that instant. Time Froze. But more importantly, the spider vanished.

Their eyes locked. Max’s thumb, fore-finger and middle-finger (usually reserved for the pleasuring of women) was invested in protecting the life of his childhood friend. They’d never been closer, yet never so far apart. And a real spider crawled along the quivering thigh of the Jungle Cat and bit him along the ridge of the throbbing member he presented in that instant. It had never swelled quite like that.

The ribbon blew into the forest and Ryland chased after it.
“Wait, what do you mean”
After chasing for what felt like an eternity Ryland stood in silence, terror and confusion. Why was he running? He had already forgotten. The vibe changed suddenly and abruptly as Ryland started to feel the euphoric effect of the mushrooms. The trees began to take the forms of people , specifically women with large breasts, morphing and shifting. The bark oozed across the voluptuous curves swaying all around him.
“Oh yeah baby!” Ryland approached a nearby eucalyptus tree. Standing there, like the slut she was, she swung her hips around at him beckoning him closer. “What’s your name precious?”
“I am Ryland, the jungle cat!” He exclaimed and held out his hand for a branch. “What do I call you, sweetheart?” He gently kissed one of her leaves.
“You can call me whatever the fuck you want as long as you fuck me with that big fat cock of yours!”
Ryland also suddenly felt the urge to skip the gratuitous foreplay and pulled his pants down and left them there by his ankles. Her tantalizing breasts swelled like over-filled water balloons ready to pop, her vivacious hips gyrated in a show of fertility and her thighs were plain just asking to be spunked on. Fumbling for a hole to fuck, Ryland took the time to get himself started too. Breathing heavily, he began wanking with the vigour and velocity of a professional, despite not being entirely hard. He slapped her wooden posterior that wiggled like jelly and buried his face in her breasts to complete his erection. The sexy trees around him pulsated as one in a sea of ecstasy, waves of pleasure and movement synchronizing with him thrusting against a tree. As he pushed harder, she began to moan and gasp in amazement at the quality of this sex she was having. “Harder! Oh oh OH! Ah! Ahh AAAHHH!” with each scream her voice became more asian, which only bolstered Ryland’s resolve. They say the eyes are the windows to one’s soul. As he gazed longingly into the eyes of this indigenous evergreen, they started to morph, slant, infront of his very eyes. He pushed and fucked harder than ever before in his life. Smaller, smaller, the scrunched face of a young asian girl. Innocent. Pure. Untouched. This face morphed into that of Fung’s. Total euphoria, eternal bliss, immeasurable beauty. Ryland erupted on to the tree with all of his might. He felt the weight of his body shift backwards, correcting himself, he didnt even feel the spider that had immigrated to the folds of his penis.
“Hey what are you fucking doing you goddamn chode?” It was Max. Barely able to contain himself, he was laughing himself out of breath, holding an arm over his torso to stop the pain of fits of laughter.
“W-what are you doing out here?” hazily asked Ryland? “I ran so far…”
“You ran like 10 meters you fat sack of shit, then you dropped your pants and fucked a tree. You are one loose unit. You know man, like I reckon you have autism or psychopathy or something….” Max’s observations trailed off softly as they do. “…Like you should fucking get your shit together or something…. here have some more shrooms…”
Ryland regained his composure, got appropriately dressed and consumed a sizeable dosage of psychedelics.. The two moved over to the fire pit area and decided to build a fire as it had gotten dark. Ryland endured Max’s ridicule for what seemed to be all evening. The endless torrent of hateful, disgusting remarks made Ryland feel more shame than the shame he felt for molesting that slutty asian tree.
“You know Ryland, like, I reckon that you like to fuck mexican trannies in dumpsters.”
“Hey Ryland, how much money would you fuck your own grandmother for?”
“Ryland dude, would you rather suck my dick or eat these marshmallows?”
“These marshmallows?” Ryland grabbed the bag of marshmallows and threw them into the fire. He then reached across the fire, pulled down my pants and began to suck my dick.

Max, had gone on a tangent. Ryland reached for the marshmallows, popped the bag open and flung two white sugar clouds into the chasm upon his face. He began to gag.

The road had become bumpy at this point. Max was stinging, as they say. The duo decided to bump. The flood of crystal in their veins sent their cocks right back up again. Max thought himself hypersexualized but one thing was for certain. He needed to check his penis. Immediately. He created a barricade of old clothes and a duvet cover he found in the back seat. He then proceeded to pull out the slowly decaying monolith that is his birthright. He started to investigate it, peeling back the skin. Checking every nook and cranny. He smeared his finger along the inner rim of his foreskin and subtly slipped his finger into his mouth. He enjoyed the taste. Ryland wouldn’t understand. But yes, he had definitely cum the previous night. His penis then started to spout some clearish fluid. He knew what he had to do, it was just a matter of whether Ryland would understand his manly urges. He gazed at the unknowing innocent face of the somewhat farcical site of a man clutching the steering posed with an extremely visible erection. Ryland looked back. Grinding his teeth to no avail.
“Should’ve bought gum” Ryland murmured through clenched jaw.
Max began to stroke his throbbing cock. He readjusted himself on his seat, he needed to be in the prime position to be able to maximise palm to cock-skin ratio. Ryland started to sniff the air, it was a scent he was used to. Pre-cum. He scrounged his face, he did not appreciate the taste. He turned to Max.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” he enquired.
“Jacking off.” was the reply.
“Think you’re trolling? I can smell your cock you fucking queer.”
This got Max even harder.
“Like I know we do gay shit with one another? But do you really think so?”
His breathing quickened.
“I don’t think I’m gay man, I love the pussay!”
His hair stood on end.
“But I mean, what defines a friendship?”
And then.
“You need to help me man, I think that spider bite is going to kill me. If I don’t get that whore to suck the poison out.”
Release.
“I could always suck the poison out, come on you bitch, I’m still up for it.”
They kiss.
“No, fuck you.. A whore will do it.”

His heart rate rising rapidly, he choked on the marshmallows as he had in a state of panic, inhaled sharply. His face turned red and he started gasping. Max, suffering an intense flashback to a threesome at a festival, was reminded of gasping and immediately started to feel that familiar tingling sensation.
At this point Ryland was flailing erratically and begging for help as best he could. He threw a nearby bag of soap bars to the floor in order to get Max’s attention.
“Hey Ryland? Why did you just drop those soap bars?” Max asked in a jokingly, and oddly sincere seductive tone. “is it because you want to be banged in the butthole?”
Max considered this for a second. He could rape Ryland. He mightn’t.

Ryland began to shove his fingers down his throat. He couldn’t reach the blockage. His time was running out, all because he had no hope of reaching the marshmallows. But Max did.
“Maxie to the rescue!” for some inconceivable reason, Max could not contain his unclean thoughts and in a torrent of the most vile display of friendship, he grabbed his cock and jammed it down rylands throat.
Contact.
The sheer force of Max’s niggercock dislodged the marshmallow. Ryland felt the blockage move into his stomach and then proceeded to gulp for air, drawing in Max’s penis deeper within, before finally tasting fresh air.

The psychedelic episode that followed escapes the descriptive power of our language. Ryland stares at Max for a while before beginning to shake and froth at the mouth. He slumps over to his left and falls on the ground. Max hurriedly rushed to his side, “Hey fag, you ok?”
“Yeah dude,” Ryland replies, wiping his lips, “it’s just your cum!”
It occurred to Max that the near-death experience had forced Ryland from the closet he was hiding in for all these years. Ryland recognized the snarky grin wiped across his face.
“Fuck you, you piece of shit, I need pussy right now to get the taste of unwashed cock out my mouth. Get in the car, you fuck.”

The gruesome twosome
On their hunt to get some cunt
This is a haiku.

The door slammed against the adjacent wall as Ryland stormed through the Mezzanine of Madame Mozambique’s menagerie of multi-bacterial layered women. He chose the first asian he could, he grabbed her by wrist and escorted her to a room. The walls were layered with grime, peeling wallpaper, a smelly yellow line of pus led to the room of nasties. Max sauntered in silently, secretly following Ryland into the room.
He threw her across the room on to the bed, falling on to the crusty mattress. Ryland unfastened his belt and pulled out his swollen, red and pus-filled member. She recoiled in horror, her forehead glimmered in the pale light as it was covered in sweat. She reared open her gullet and yelled a blood-curdling scream. She could not help but notice the now throbbing, swollen, red and pus-filled member.

She was quite a pretty young thing, recent graduate, perhaps a mother. Ryland thought to himself as he prepared his mind for what he was about to do. Max on the other hand was sleuthing on the edge he was barely awake. Reduced to a murmuring zombie that only catered to animalistic impulses. As Ryland began shuffling his feet toward the terrified woman, she let out scream.
“HELP ME! PLEASE GOD NO MADAME MOZAMBIQUE! I DO NOT WANT!” screamed the squirming prostitute as his mass loomed over her. Goosebumps prickled over her skin, making every part of her body taut and flush. Her dark nipples were completely erect. It was as if her frightened state only made her more enticing to Ryland.
She is definitely about 30, Max assured himself. she is pretty hot though, I’d do her… Max’s internal monologue trailed off.
Ryland looked his good friend and in a moment filled with utter beauty, appreciation and distasteful lust he opened his cock-flavoured mouth and began to say:
“We can’t ignore all the gay shit that goes on between us man. I think that we should face up to the fact you’re the one person in this world who would follow me into this room.”
“I donno man- like” Max began to like, trail off.
“Because Maxi-bon you can’t deny the blatant homooerotic undertones of the previous scenes. This needs to paramount to an epic fuck party. Against this poor womans will.”
Madame Mozambique rushed through the door. An agile Max moved with the prowess of Snake. Acting on the most feral impulse he knew, a dirty trick he often performed in the depths of a meth binge. He grabbed the nearest solid object, a glass bottle and brought it down on to her head head. The elder woman crumpled in a heap on the floor. The Gruesome Twosome were not gay. Not at all.

Max barricaded the door with a stool and got naked. He noticed how his penis and Ryland’s were almost the same in size. He felt an urge to cross swords with him, but remembering suddenly that he had an actual chance at a woman and it was probably worth it to capitalize on the predicament. He approached the heaving mass of Ryland and the crying sex worker. Max spotted a hole going free on the woman and had submitted his family jewels into the mix. Max and Ryland looked each other in the eyes, in a nod of understanding they got into a particular position. There was no need for any discussion any communication. They had spoken to ends about all these situations, they knew exactly what to do. How to please the other. They were roasting her from both ends, Ryland rested his knee against the foot of the bed as he proceeded to thrust. Max could feel the delicate singe at the tip of his penis as his veiny erection pressed against the back of her throat.

She braced her arms against Max’s thigh and removed the Bratwurst clogging her wind pipe. She indicated for a change of position as Max (penis sheathed in his hand) moved across the bed until he was underneath them all. He felt the coarse, grizzled pubic hair of the untamable Jungle Cat rub against his delicate testicles. Goosebumps started appearing all over the most sensitive parts of his body. He looked up to see a broken woman, smiling, looking down at him. He twisted his neck and gazed deeply into the eyes of his greatest friend. Ryland looked off into the distance. His eyes were closed but he had the look of utmost malice and despair upon his face. He was trying to fuck the demons out.

She grew weary, started to slowly inch away from the activities. The two did not even notice. They continued their furious embrace, nothing could stop their passionate love-making.

Max was dreading this part. He had to actually pleasure Ryland. His penis was swollen and had started to change colour. It was giving off a strange smell. They would have to visit the hospital soon. He grabbed it in his hand. It had a strange, rubbery texture. It looked like it was about to burst. He played with it gently across the palm of his hand and slowly wrapped his tounge around it. He could barely attempt it, it covered his face. As strange as it was, there was something about this grotesquely large and comically inflated penis that Max found himself drawn to. Ryland had an arguably more strenuous time. Max’s penis had started to emit an odour of sour fish and rotting vegetables. It was covered in flecks of grit, whose true origin will never be known. Ryland gazed at the face of the somewhat removed Maxine. He knew what he had to do. He opened his mouth and started to pleasure a man in ways only a straight man could know how to.

The 69 is a beautiful position. There is something particular about the symmetry it creates with the two physical forms, I find endearing. Max thought to himself. He grasped for ledges along the fall of Rylands back as he violently denied his cock air in the recesses of its victims mouth.

“STOP! STOP! You are hurting him!” wailed the naked prostitute, her supple breasts highlighted against the bright light.

“He’ll be fine!” grunted Ryland as Max began to slowly slip out of consciousness.
“It’s alright Max, are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?” continued Ryland. Plowing the body of his lifeless comrade.