Goldie Pt. 04: The Man with a Golden Penis

Goldie Part 04 - Sex With A Persian's Wife And Attacked By A Bearded Assassin

I'm sitting here in my cell thinking about why I've been convicted of murder. If you read the preceding parts of my story you will recall how nicely Mr. Bentley treated me. Somehow the old guy disappeared and they think I killed him. I just don't get it. I never killed a man, I've never killed anyone.

Sure, I was together with him on the last day he was seen alive, but what does that prove? Nobody has ever found a dead body. I was tested for gun residue, blood, and DNA and nothing came up, yet here I am, waiting on death row for my turn to die.

Oh well, I won't bore you with my tears, I'm a big boy, I'm golden. Fuck the world, I wanna get off, off to another planet, another dimension, out of this prison before I go crazy in here. Wasn't there a film with Richard Pryor called "Stir Crazy?" Something about going batty in jail? Shit, that might be me.

But fuck it, I guess I gotta be grateful, my ACLU liberal lawyer still comes by my cell to see me. he says she is getting an appeal ready that she thinks will fly. Shit, I hope so. I do get off on her wonderful 'Purel' hand jobs, but I'd much rather be fucking her on a bed somewhere without my feet in chains.

And then there is my shrink, if you recall, I gotta bend over and tongue-cream her pussy every week or so to keep her interested in my mental health as well as her hairy puss. I guess she ain't liberal enough to shave that monster. They think you can relax on death row? Not a chance man!

Jesus, please help me! I'm still going to church on Sundays and here they've got me singing in the choir. Of course, I'm chained up like a circus bear. Reverend Mandrake Pepper runs that gig, he was a deacon in a Baptist church outside of New Orleans before he got sent up on charges of misappropriation of the church charity fund and misconduct with a few Sunday School moms whose lady parts he impregnated.

The Rev' claims it was his twin brother who did the dirty deed.

"It can't be me," he says, "I am gay."

I don't know what the real truth is but he was in the shower near me last Wednesday and seemed to have had trouble keeping his eyes off my mandrake root, all golden and shiny as I soaped it up for as long as it takes to sprinkle the damp floor with a bit of seed without getting caught by the guards.

The Rev kept moving closer to me, and just after I spunked off, he stepped into the damp cum spot I'd nefariously deposited on the slick tile floor. Sad to say the Reverend slipped and fell over. Lucky for him I grabbed the Rev' just before his head hit the hard floor. At that same moment, he grabbed onto my stiff cock like it was a safety handle to cushion his fall. That doesn't make him gay, but it don't prove he was swizzled by this twin brother that nobody has ever seen. I'm keeping an open mind on that rowdy man of God, and I'm pray'n that there is a twin brother, one who ain't gay.

Let me fill ya in on what happened on that fateful day I call the "Pizza Party." You all will recall Marg opened the office door unexpectedly and saw me behind her dad with my cock buried in his ass. Needless to say, that scene caused Marg to break up with me. I tried to explain to her that rear-ending her Dad was his idea.

Somehow Margarita also learned I was diddling her mom, that didn't go over too well. I got fired and It took me a little while to find a new job. So I was unemployed again, but I wasn't stupid enough to ask for any recommendations from the Pizza Parlor. My previous two jobs had ended under circumstances you would not want to write down on a job application.

I heard the school board was looking for part-time school crossing guards. The only qualification for that job was not being charged as a child molester. I figured that walking the kids to school would do until I found a full-time job.

This part-time gig meant I had to get up early, forty-five minutes before the school opened, and walk over to Hyde Street where the old Wilson School is located. Who the fuck was Wilson? Wilson Pickett, I guess. They gave me a big yellow sign to carry and bright yellow gloves to wear. My crossing guard trainer said the sign would slow down the passing vehicles and allow me to walk the kids across that busy intersection. The way the cars roared past I thought the sign said, "hit me."

I had to stay at my post an hour after the school closed. The straggler kids liked playing in the school playground before going home and I had to escort them across the street when they got tired of hoops. Sometimes I'd go onto the court and play with them. Being taller than the kids was an unfair advantage so I'd miss a lot of shots on purpose. The kids caught on pretty quick and laughed when I'd shoot the basket.

A lot of my schoolmates from High School were now married and had children of their own. It turned out that I knew a whole bunch of the "baby mama's" who walked their tikes to the elementary school. There was Mabel and Sharina who had two kids each and Waneta who had five, each of a different color.The prettiest of all was Nara, who I remembered from school because she sat behind me in two classes.

Nara had become a devout Muslim, she wore a headscarf and a burka and greeted me with "Salami Allicum" or something like that. Nara had two cute little kids, twins, a boy and a girl, both with curly hair. Nara walked them to the pre-school in the morning and returned early in the afternoon, to wait to pick them up. She was obviously a good mother. During those afternoon waiting periods, she'd stop to talk with me until the 3:30 pm bell sounded its short nasty beeping sound.

Nara explained to me that after graduation her Dad, a devote Muslim working for an Oil Company, had moved the family to Iran for several years where she attended college. While still a student she met and married an Iranian Optician. Thinking she'd found true love she quickly became pregnant and had the twins. She soon learned that her husband was seeing double. The Optician had two other wives he housed with his parents, thirty miles away on a pomegranate farm.

Once politics soured the Iranian oil business, Nara's parents returned to America.

Nara wanted to be near them in Texas, but her husband, waiting for a visa, could not accompany her. Politics being what they are, the wait was long and frustrating and in the end perhaps impossible. Nara was fearful her hubby would take a fourth wife in Iran if the visa did not arrive soon. If that happened, there was little chance her husband could ever leave and no chance for their marriage to continue. Divorce in Iran was impossible, all the laws favored the men. I got the feeling that she was rethinking her own future.

One afternoon Nara waited with me until my shift was completed and invited me to follow her home. We walked with the two kids in tow. She had promised to show me photos of Iran. When we arrive at her parent's home she took me to the back of the house.

"You wait here," Nara said. " I'll take the kids round the front where their grandma will care for them."

Ten minutes later, Nara returned alone. She led me down a staircase to a game room in the basement where there was a sofa, a TV, and even a fridge.

Nara was still wearing a dark robe that covered her from head to foot, but her arms were hidden underneath. Nara went over to the fridge and opened the door. When she came back to me she threw open the robe. I could see she was carrying two opened bottles of beer in each hand.

"I thought Muslims didn't drink beer?"

"This is Texas, I like to have a taste, it's time to loosen up a bit,"

Nara threw the robe and headscarf onto the sofa. Underneath the robe she was wearing a loose red silk blouse that showed off her good-sized tits and short shorts that were so tight you can just about see her ass crack.

"Some music," she said, "would be nice."

I nodded. Nara walked across the room and opened the dark brown wooden door of an entertainment center. She pushed a few buttons and the music seemed to be coming out of every corner of the room. Marvin Gaye, one of my favorites, was up at bat. We flicked off the loose caps off the beer bottles and chilled, grooving to "Dock of the Bay," as she moved closer to me on the leather sofa.

Then she got up and walked over to the wall where I had laid my yellow stop sign with my jacket and gloves. She picked up my sign and started waving it around to the music. Then she laid it down and began to dance while taking off her blouse. I thought,

"Oh my God, Nara, your big melon tits are look'n fine."

After that strange dance, she sat down next to me and drained what remained of the bottle she'd left on the coffee table. I had noticed the bottles were both opened when she carried them down to us. When I took a taste to keep her company, it didn't taste like beer, it had a sweet licorice flavor.

"What is this?"

"Oh it's not just beer, I mixed in some Ouzo, it's a mid-eastern drink, some call it Arak, they make it out of anise and different spices and it is quite potent. The Iranians say it will give an old man a hard-on," with that she giggled and blushed.

"Well Nar, it's working on me and I ain't old."

"Be careful," and her voice was a little slurred, "it will get you drunk-kkk ," she said.

Before I could take another taste she laid down on the sofa where I was sitting and put her head in my lap.

"You wanna fool around Goldie?" She sounded like we were still in high school.

"But Nar, you are a married woman with two young children."

"Yeah, but I'm not dead yet, I haven't had sex in so long I feel like they've sewed up my vagina."

"They do that shit over there, don't they?"

She didn't answer, but nodded her head, "So you don't want to fuck me?

I didn't answer.

"You must think after two kids my pussy is stretched out now and I'm unattractive. Is that why you don't want to make love to me?"

"Oh no, not at all, you still a prime looker."

To add emphasis at that very moment my cock was swelled up and tap'n against the back of her head."

"Is that what I think it is, Mr. Gooooldie?"

She was obviously a little drunk.

"Oops, I'm sorry Nara."

"You better not be sorry," she said as she rolled over and started licking the outside of my pants where there was a clear imprint of my cock.

"Nara, what are you doing?"

"Oh you are right, I should go for it."

And she unzipped my pants and reached inside and began to play with my balls.

"Ohhhhh Goldie, if I knew what you were hiding under your pants I would have had you fucking me every day back when I first knew you."

I didn't know what to say, what she was doing with her fingers was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

"In Persia, we are taught to cradle and vibrate a man's balls to give him pleasure and to show him we are ready to spread our legs."

"Well, you sure learned that real well, but Nara, don't..."

I could see there was no way I could convince her that this was inappropriate behavior. I was loving what she was doing and I was afraid to add to her insecurities by refusing to answer her needs.

"Oh Goldie, I'm so horny, I use a shampoo bottle as a dildo every night and sometimes before I get up in the morning, but I need a real cock, your big golden cock."

By now my pants were open and my dick fully swelled up.

"You is free at last," Nara giggled. "But I'm embarrassed that I told you I've been so horny." and she started giving my dick tongue kisses, little sucking bites up and down the shaft.

"Oh my Goldie, your prick is golden colored, I never saw one like yours and it's so big."

"I know, just suck on it for a little while."

I leaned back to enjoy her skill and oddly for a second I thought of Marg, the pizza girl, and how well she sucked cock. What Nara was doing was something else, her tongue had become a subsonic vibrator."

"Does this feel good Goldie, is this the first time you got an Iranian blow job?"

"Oh yeah," I wasn't going to say my cock had been in other women's mouths, but now that she had gotten this far, there was no chance I'd exit her warm lips.

I reached down to caress her and realized she was not wearing the shorts and her shaved cunt was in reach. I twisted so I could "69" her, to return the favor for what she was doing. Nara spread her legs wide and wrapped them around my neck. I knew there was no stopping us.

I licked and sucked her clit for a long time, tonguing in and out, masturbating her with my tongue and lips. Her clit was sort of a triangular sponge that grew larger as I sucked it.

"I want you inside me, I can't wait any longer."

Nara released my head from the viselike grip of her legs and raised up.

"What are you doing Nara, changing your mind?"

"Oh no," she laughed, "in Persia, we liked to do it doggie style."

"So Persians love dogs?"

"Oh now you silly boy, what they love is pussy, they love wet warm vageegee, as Oprah calls it."

"Me too," I said, as I shifted behind her big ass and pushed my cock hard between her thick legs aiming for her wet cunt.

"A little lower," she grabbed my cock and directed it, "I don't want you in my ass, we can try that next time."

As my dick entered her wet pussy, Nara moaned,

"Fuck my cunt hard, smack your big balls against my ass."

"Should I be using a condom or should I pull out before cumming?"

"Oh no, we don't believe in birth control, just fuck me, fuck me good, fuck me hard, harder, fuck my husband and fuck his two wives. I didn't learn of them until after he got me pregnant. That sucker fooled me, Goldie. Make me a baby, a golden baby with a golden cock, just like yours. And Goldie, sweet Goldie, while you are fucking me stick your thumb up my ass like Housan always does."

So I did as she asked. It had been a few weeks since I'd boffed anyone and I had to get that vision of Margarita's Dad, Mario's hairy ass, out of my mind. I went crazy, I fucked her with every ounce of strength, crashing into her, my big balls bouncing off her hot ass, my cock reaming her to depths I don't think she'd experienced except in childbirth, and yes, my big thumb was stuffed securely up her ass when I spilled my cum juice deep inside her.

I never stopped fucking her, I just fucked on and on until I came a second time. She lay there in a daze, my large cum shots pooling between her legs, leaking out into the creases of the leather sofa's cushions where the upholstery button was floating in a sea of sperm and pussy juice.

I lay inside her for the longest time without moving. Then I realized Nara hadn't moaned or said anything since before I shot my second load; was she asleep or dead?

I poked her, I felt her neck for a pulse, I shook her, Oh my God, did I fuck her to death? Is such a thing possible?

Finally she came too,

"Oh Goldie, soooooo gooooood and she fell back asleep."

By now I was wide awake so I raised myself off of her bountiful ass. I realized during our love-making session I'd never touched her ample breasts. Her light brown ass was so nice and warm, that I leaned forward and kissed it. I ran my hands over her full breasts wondering how I'd missed them earlier. I held her nipples in between my fingers and pressed her globes together so I could get both tits in my mouth at once. She seemed to be in a deep sleep and unresponsive so thought it best to let her rest.

I got up and dressed. Before leaving I covered her with her robe. I picked up my yellow stop sign and made my way quietly up the basement stairs. I rested a few minutes against the iron railing to catch my breath, then I started the walk back to my home. The sun must have just set and the yella' moon was rising. The sky had gone from orange to black, I could feel the cool breeze blowing as the yellow moon hid behind dark clouds.

I started to walk when after a while, I heard footsteps behind me. I looked back to see some guy with a foot-long beard following me. I picked up my pace and so did he. I started to jog and so did he. There was no question that he seemed to be following me. I got closer to the old supermarket that had been boarded up for the longest time and I made my plan.

I looked back to see he was trying hard to catch up with me. I realized I was not going to outrun him so I decided my best course of action was to go on the offensive. I ducked into a dark alley behind the market and waited quietly. I could hear the dark figure's footsteps. As he approached, I ready myself for combat.

Who was this dark villain? Was he sent by Ko-mean-i, or whatever his name was to defend Nara's honor?

It was do or die! The stranger sprinted past where I was hiding. I jumped out behind him and like Samson of the Israelites, I smote him a heavy blow over the head with my yellow sign.

He fell to the floor and began crying, hardly the behavior of an assassin. Then I realized in his hands he was carrying my yellow gloves, they must have fallen out of my jacket pocket. It was Hamid, Nara's brother sent after me to return my gloves.

I was embarrassed and devastated, I was so upset I blurted out,

"Forgive me, I thought you were an assassin."

"Why would I hurt you?" said Hamid, whose speech was slurred.

"Because I just fucked your sister,-uh twice," I stupidly confessed.

"You fuck-a my sister," said Hamid, "I kill you!"

I had no choice, I hit him once more with the sign and ran like hell to make my getaway. I could hear his curses even into the next block.

As for his threat to kill me, I regret that Hamid also ended up on the jury at my trial.

That is the trouble with a small-town jury, everyone knows everyone and a guilty verdict is a vote based on unpopularity. God knows I wasn't a poster boy for morality, but I did my best to give everyone I fucked a real good fuck off.

Now all I can do is take my golden cock in hand, think about all those crazy fucking adventures, and milk my dick to get some relief. Sad huh?

END OF PART FOUR