Monday, August 30, 2010

The Real Glenn Beck

I attended one of Glenn Beck's weird shows where he sits on a stage with a guest or two and there's a small studio audience. Beck was blabbering about some fucking thing, but at least I could say I was there, in the lion’s den.

The show ended and anyone who knows me knows I have the world's smallest bladder so I had to pee. The men's bathroom in the studio was a lovely marble ensemble with several urinals across from a few stalls. I unzipped and began peeing with my head down, paying close attention so that I wouldn't lose control and go all over myself.

Thirty seconds in to my urination expedition, I felt a hand slide into the back of my jeans. Before I recovered from the shock, the hand had moved down and was ferociously massaging my prostate. My back was as stiff as a pole. I was already very conscious that I was out of place in the conservative lair and anxious not to ruffle any feathers. I slowly turned to my right, where the offending hand had originated and was blinded by a tall pasty light.

As my eyes focused and I began to realize the situation, it occurred to me the blaring light was coming from none other than Glenn Beck. He must've taken those few moments of my being star struck as an invitation to explore my body. He turned towards me and I noticed his extremely erect penis was hanging out like a fat guy taking a break from walking. I was scared he would pee all over me a la Lyndon Johnson, but nothing came out. I started to doubt if he had to pee in the first place.

Looking at his penis in terror of being doused in his pee was a bad move as he took it as a come-on. His right hand worked my balls as his left began penetrating my anus. I thought of all the powerful people he must know, closed my eyes and finished peeing. Glenn Beck shook out the last few sprinkles, got on his knees and inserted my penis into his mouth. A finger on his left hand then began to go back and forth inside my anus like a yo-yo.

My eyes were squeezed shut. Glenn Beck slowly backed me up into a stall, closing the door behind him, sucking me all the way. There was a moment when I stopped wishing I was somewhere, anywhere, else that I noticed Glenn Beck possessed the softest lips as he worked my shaft. I also noticed I was hard, more out of a reflex than owing to enjoyment. He skillfully moved his mouth from my penis to my balls and began swirling his tongue.

Just then, someone walked into the bathroom. I screamed for help, but the words never left my mouth. I had been frozen petrified due to fear and shock. The man finished and left without washing his hands. My chance had passed.

Glenn Beck became so adept at shifting between my penis and balls with his mouth that he used his right hand to pleasure himself, his left all the while implanted in my rear. Tears began to run from my cheeks. At that point, I felt myself ejaculate... into Glenn Beck's mouth. He gobbled up all of my semen he could manage. And began licking his lips in delight.

Just then, two large bald men busted into the stall. Then they grabbed me, lifting me off of the ground, and yanked me out of the stall. They wrestled me to the bathroom floor, my pants and underwear still around my ankles. They had me pinned face up. Glenn Beck was masturbating over me. He quickly reached climax and came all over my face, the ooze dripping uncontrollably all over my face. When he stopped moaning, he said, "If you tell anyone about this, you'll die." The large man to my left then punched me hard in the stomach.

I rolled around, half naked, on the bathroom floor in agony. Both physical and emotional. Every time I've had an erection since, I see Glenn Beck's face with my dick in his mouth, the utter ecstasy in his eyes as if my pain fed his fantasies.

Only now have I managed the courage to say any of this publicly. I'm ready for the consequences.

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