1. Impregnated by the Black Mountain Man


    Date: 12/2/2015, Categories: Cuckold, Author: edlangston, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

    He paused for a moment and chuckled to himself before continuing, “Jack is a mystery to most of the folks just because he is the only black man in this mostly-white area. And the main reason he is a legend is because of his cock. Rumor has it that he has never able to satisfactorily fuck the strippers at the tavern, because his cock is too large. But once he gets in the room with them and becomes aroused, it’s hard for him to calm back down and leave them alone. I heard that he has almost injured a couple of the girls with that thing.” I have to admit to being more than a little interested in Jack’s legend. At that moment though, it was important to get him out of the cold creek and up to our cabin. So Ed and I struggled to pull him out of the water as gently as possible. Then the baby and I stayed with him while Ed went back to our home to get the wheelbarrow. There’s no way we could move his dead weight back to the house without rolling him. We finally got him back home and placed him in the bathtub. I knew from my nurse’s training that we needed to keep him dry as well as warm. But after being in that contaminated creek, with all of those cuts, scrapes and contusions, I was worried about his wounds getting infected from the bacteria and other contaminates in the water. Jack was barely conscious as Ed helped me remove his tattered clothes. When we removed Jack’s pants and underwear, I could hardly believe the size of his cock and balls. Even after being in that cold creek ...
    for goodness knows how long, his soft, uncircumcised cock was still nine or ten inches long and about six inches in circumference. His balls were the size of eggs, and hung down five inches, even though they were shriveled up. I gently washed him in warm water with some special anti-bacterial soap from our first-aid kit, being careful with his wounds. Then Ed helped me rinse him and dry him before we treated and bandaged his open wounds and moved him to our spare bedroom. It was obvious that he was suffering from hypothermia. The shivering was a good sign that at least his heat regulation systems were still active. His slow, weak pulse and slow, shallow breathing were some of the signs that he was suffering from hypothermia. We got him into bed, lying somewhat diagonally because of his height, and covered him with extra blankets. Ed threw more wood into our wood stove. I stayed by Jack’s side monitoring his breathing and pulse. After several hours he wasn’t showing much improvement. That’s when I called Ed in and said, “I don’t know how long Jack was in that frigid water, but he doesn’t seem to be improving. I think we need to try to contact the air evacuation unit to see if they can lift Jack out of here by helicopter and get him to the clinic or a hospital.” Ed agreed with me and was heading out of the room to contact them online, when Jack weakly and almost inaudibly whispered in his deep baritone voice, “No, please don’t call evac. I don’t have insurance and can’t afford ...
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