I had never touched another man until that night. I was twenty-three, horny as hell after a long dry spell with women, and scrolling through hook-up apps out of sheer boredom when his message popped up. Marcus. Six-foot-four, built like a linebacker, and his profile pic showed the outline of a cock that looked unreal. "First time?" he asked after we traded a few lines. I typed back yes before I could chicken out.
He told me to come over. No small talk, just an address and "be ready to take it." My hands shook the whole drive. When he opened the door in nothing but gray sweats that hung low on his hips, my eyes went straight to the heavy bulge swinging between his legs. He smirked, shut the door, and grabbed my wrist.
"Strip," he said, voice low and rough. I peeled off my clothes while he watched, then he dropped his sweats. His cock flopped out thick and heavy, already half-hard and darker than the rest of him. Nine inches easy, fat veins running down the shaft, the head shiny and blunt. My mouth went dry.
"On your knees, boy. Show me how bad you want your first BBC."
I dropped. The heat coming off that dick hit my face first. I wrapped my hand around the base and it barely closed. He was heavy, pulsing, skin smooth and tight. I licked the head, tasting salt and skin, then opened wide and pushed down. My jaw ached fast. Marcus grunted and fed me more, one big hand on the back of my head.
"Relax that throat. That's it. Take it deeper." He started rocking his hips, sliding that thick meat over my tongue until it bumped the back of my throat. Spit ran down my chin. Every time I gagged he pushed a little harder, teaching me how to swallow around him. My own cock was rock hard and leaking on the floor.
After a few minutes he pulled out, strings of spit connecting my lips to his cock. "Bed. Face down, ass up."
I climbed on, heart hammering. He spread my cheeks with both hands and spit right on my hole. One thick finger pushed in, then two, working me open with quick, dirty strokes.
"Tight little virgin hole. Gonna ruin it."
The blunt head of his cock pressed against me next. He didn't ease in. He gripped my hips and shoved. The stretch burned like fire. I groaned into the mattress as inch after inch forced its way inside, my ass clenching around that massive girth. Marcus didn't stop until his balls rested against me.
"Fuck, you're gripping me so good," he growled. Then he started fucking. Hard, deep strokes that knocked the air out of me. Every thrust dragged that fat cockhead over my prostate and made my dick twitch. The pain melted into something hotter, something that had me pushing back to meet him.
"Harder," I heard myself say. "Fuck me harder with that big black cock."
He laughed once, low and filthy, then slammed in balls-deep on every stroke. The wet slap of skin filled the room. Sweat dripped off him onto my back. He reached under me and wrapped a hand around my cock, jerking me in time with his thrusts.
I came first, shooting across the sheets while my ass spasmed around him. Marcus kept pounding through it, using my hole until he buried himself to the root and unloaded. I felt every thick pulse of cum flooding me, hot and heavy, leaking out around his shaft when he finally pulled free.
He left me there, ass up and dripping, while he caught his breath. Then he slapped my ass once and said, "Shower. Round two in ten."
I stood on shaky legs, cum running down my thigh, already knowing I was coming back for more.
