Bull Jones

My name is Bill and my wife is Abby. We both are twenty-six. Weve been
married for four years.
It was another one of those hot, humid Southern summer nights. As I looked
through the viewfinder of the video camera Abby was even hotter. Before today
she had never met Alvin C. Jones. I had not seen the man known as Bull Jones for
nearly four years.
The video camera was recording Abby’s legs flailing in the air as my former Navy
shipmate’s massive cock relentlessly plunged in and out of her like a
jackhammer, showing her no mercy. Apparently she wasn’t asking for any mercy.
But, alas I’m getting ahead of myself. Our story actually started nearly a week
earlier.
***
His name is Alvin C, Jones and Bull and I joined the Navy at the same time. We
were from the same town, but I hadn’t known him until the day we were all sworn
in. We were the same age, but we had gone to different schools so I never met
him. Bull is a large black man who played football and was pretty good at it
because he loved to hit people hard.
Bull and I became close during basic training. Being from the same place among a
lot of strangers, we found ourselves being buddies with one another. After basic
training, Bull was sent to one school and I went to another. A year later we
found ourselves stationed at the same place on the west coast. We got together
then, but not as much as we had in basic training. We both had grown up some. A
year after that Bull got assigned to a ship and I was off to another school. I
happened to run into Bull in Brisbane Australia. My enlistment was about up, and
I planned on getting out. Bull was planning on reenlisting for another hitch. We
spent a few days of liberty hitting the gin mills and whorehouses. It was in one
of the whorehouses that I discovered the real reason they called him Bull. I
thought he was killing the poor whore, and I went into the cubbyhole where he
and his girl were. I planned on pulling him off the poor thing. I remember the
shock of seeing him fuck that girl with his massive dick. From the door it
looked like he was ramming her with a large brown ball bat. I left them when it
became obvious that she wasn’t in pain, and that she loved it. Word got around
and Bull Jones couldn’t pay for a piece of ass in Australia.
I got out of the Navy, went home, married my high school sweetheart, and opened
my own video business. I made video’s of weddings, reunions, family gatherings
and anything that would make a buck. It was hand to mouth for a couple of years,
but Abby and I made it by working long hours and scrimping where we had to. I
branched out into making commercials, and that proved to be lucrative for my
little business, very lucrative.
Abby and I had a good life for the most part. She didn’t want a family, and
frankly neither did I. Our sex life from my perspective was on the lower side of
great. Abby seemed to want something more. When I asked she always replied there
was nothing missing.
Last week, I was in the back room of my shop when I heard the chimes that were
connected to the front door. I went out into the reception room and saw him. The
Bull himself was standing there grinning at me. He was a little bit bulkier, and
his head was shaved bald, but other than that he hadn’t changed much.
“Son of a bitch,” I said. “I knew I should have locked the door. Now look what
came in.” We gave each other a manly hug. “Where did you come from, Bull?”
“I was visitin’ my folks,” he said. “Saw an ad in the paper about some dude
doin’ video work. I said to myself, ‘I wonder if that could be ol’ Bill that I
know?’ I got in my new Lincoln town car and drove over to see.”
“Yeah, I put all that training the Navy gave me to some practical use.” I said.
“You still in?”
“Naw, I got out a couple years ago. Had a little disagreement with the brass,
and they sorta insisted I get out. You doin’ okay?”
“Not bad now. It was a little lean for a while. So what are you doing these
days?”
“This and that,” he answered vaguely. “Kinda in between things right now. I came
up from Florida a few days ago. I ran a stable down there for a while.”
“Really? I didn’t know you knew anything about horses.” He looked at me
strangely for a moment then laughed.
“I don’t, you dumb-ass. I ran a string of whores. One of my girls got herself
beat up by a whacko john, and that brought a lot of heat on my operation. I shut
it down, and hauled ass out of town.” He grinned at me, shaking his head. “You
are still as dumb as you were, Billy boy. You married with a bunch of rug-rats?”
“Married, but no kids,” I said. “Come on back. I’ll finish up my project, and
we’ll go get a beer.”
“Or two,” he finished with a laugh. An hour later we were sitting in Murphy’s
bar catching up on each other’s lives. Three beers later, I called Abby at her
work, and told her I was bringing an old Navy buddy home for dinner. Abby was
somewhat less then enthused about it. Abby’s lack of enthusiasm changed even
before I got through the introductions.
“Damn girl,” Bull said when she arrived home. “Ain’t you something to look at.
How did Billy-boy land a babe like you?” Bull was always a charmer, and it
certainly worked on Abby. She left us sitting on the patio and went to change
out of her work clothes.
“Man, you got yourself some woman there,” Bull said loud enough for Abby to hear
as she walked away from us. I noticed that she put a little more swing into her
hips as she left. “There ain’t no way a little white man, like you, can be
takin’ care of business.”
“Down, boy,” I said. “Private property.”
“Sure,” Bull said taking a long swig of beer. “If you need any help tending the
grounds, let me know.”
Abby joined us about thirty minutes later. She had showered, and put on a pair
of short shorts with a little pink halter-top. From the sway of her boobs she
hadn’t bothered with a bra. Abby is one of those fortunate women who are heavy
breasted, yet doesn’t need support to keep them from sagging. Her thirty-eight D
cup tits stick straight out. Bull’s eyes indicated he didn’t miss her
provocative boob display.
I ordered a pizza delivered, and while we waited for it, we drank beer and
talked. Abby hung on Bull’s every word. He regaled her with old war stories
about him and me. Some of it I recognized, and some of it was funny, but pure
fabrication.
“Bill, you didn’t tell me about your trips to Australian whore houses,” Abby
said with a smile. We had finished the pizza and were working on the rest of the
two cases of beer I bought.
“Not much to tell,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I was only there
to watch Bull’s back. I was his wingman.”
“Yeah right,” Abby said with a snort. “You didn’t have any of the women, I’ll
bet.”
“Of course not,” I said with a straight face. A drunken face, but straight, I
thought. “I was staying true to my girl at home, cause I knew she was staying
true to me.” I had stumbled or staggered, into an area of our past that we
didn’t talk about. Abby had never mentioned it, but I knew she fucked around
while I was gone. Our town is still small enough so that there aren’t many
secrets. I hadn’t been home more than a few days when several people told me
about Abby. Bull watched this exchange with an amused expression on his face.
“So, do they call you Bull because you are so big?” Abby asked Bull. Apparently
she realized that we were straying into dangerous territory.
“Naw, all the men in my family are big,” Bull said. “They started calling me
Bull back in high school.”
“Because you were so mean?’ Abby persisted.
“Nope, ‘cause I have a cock like a Brahma bull,” he said as a mater of fact, and
without a change of expression.
“Oh,” Abby said her face bright red. She laughed after a moment of shocked
silence. “I guess that explains it, then.”
We finished off the beer, and Bull left about eleven o’clock. I finished up in
the bathroom first and was just about to doze off when a naked Abby jumped
astraddle of me.
“I’m going to want some lovin’ from my lovin’ man,” she breathed in my ear. I
rolled her over and spread her legs. Just as I put my dick in her I had a mental
image of her and David Hawkins. He had been one of the guys she went out with
while I was away. Hawkins made sure I knew about Abby and him by looking me up
and telling me about it. He also mentioned that Ted Billings, a black man that
we went to school with, had fucked her. I managed to shut Hawkins up by punching
him in the face, and he didn’t get to finish his bullshit. I hadn’t seen him
since. I also, in my sick mind, saw her with Bull. That image didn’t last but a
second.
That night Abby was insatiable. I fucked her twice, which was unusual for me,
and still she wanted more. Sober, I couldn’t have given her much more. Drunk as
I was, it was impossible to do any more. I went to sleep again wondering how
much of David Hawkins’s story was true.
***
I finished up a commercial shoot by mid afternoon the next day. Bull came by
just as I was closing up the shop. I told him I would meet him at Murphy’s Bar
after I went to the bank. I had a hefty check to deposit from the commercial. I
called Abby, and asked her if she wanted to join us at Murphy’s. I didn’t figure
she would want to. She surprised me by quickly agreeing, and told me that she
would be there after she had gone home to change. I wondered about that, because
she always looked good in her business attire. Abby is a bookkeeper for a car
dealership in town. Abby’s delay served to give Bull and I a good head start on
the beer.
“I didn’t get you in trouble with them whorehouse tales, did I?” Bull asked me.
“Not so that you could tell it,” I responded. “We went at it like two bunnies
after we got in bed. She liked to wore me out.”
“Probably thinkin’ about my bull-like black dick,” Bull said with a grin.
“Did you know Ted Billings?” I asked, ignoring his dig.
“Yeah, I know him. He played for your ragged-ass little team. He’s workin’ for
Tony Marks, I hear. Why, do you know him?”
“Not personally,” I said. “His name came up a while back.”
Abby joined us shortly after six. She was wearing a slinky black dress with a
plunging neckline, the dress stopped at mid thigh. She looked incredibly hot.
She took one look at the empty mugs on the table, and decided to catch up by
ordering a margarita. That would do it, because neither Abby nor I drank much
hard liquor.
Half an hour later, Abby was on her third margarita, and we all were feeling no
pain. Bull was telling us about his string of call girls.
“You were a…what do you call it? A pimp?” Abby asked Bull, her eyes wide.
“I was the manager of client services,” Bull responded with as much dignity as
he could.
“What does that mean exactly?” Abby asked.
“Pimp,” Bull said laughing. “Hey, Billy-boy. It’s funny you mentioned Ted
Billings. I saw him a few days ago.” Abby jerked upright, and stared at me. I
couldn’t read her expression. Shock, surprise, or maybe fear. “I told you he’s
was working for Tony Marks, didn’t I?”
“Yeah. Who is Tony Marks?” I asked, still watching Abby out of the corner of my
eye.
“Marks runs a few women,” Bull said, signaling to the waitress to bring more
drinks. “Does a bit of sharkin’. Dope, too, I guess. That would be his speed. I
hear Ted is one of Tony’s lieutenants.”
“Why were you talking about Ted Billings?” Abby asked softly.
“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “You know Ted, don’t you?”
Abby lost some more of her color. “Sure, we went to high school with him back
when.”
“Yeah, he was a running buddy with David Hawkins,” I said. I was back in that
dangerous territory, but I didn’t care. “You know Hawkins, too.”
Abby was saved from having to answer that, because Bull chose that moment to
launch into another tale about his adventures in Florida. I didn’t bring up Ted
or David again. I was curious to see how Abby would handle it. I found out later
that night.

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