The basement door slammed shut behind me and the deadbolt clicked. I spun around, heart hammering, but it was already too late. Marcus stood there with that cold smirk, keys dangling from one thick finger. “Told you not to fuck with me at work,” he said, voice low and rough. “Now you’re gonna learn what happens.”
I backed up until my shoulders hit the concrete wall. “This isn’t funny. Let me out.”
He didn’t answer. He just unbuckled his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a slow, deliberate sound. His cock was already hard, pushing against his jeans. Big. Thick. The kind of dick that made my stomach twist with something I didn’t want to name.
“Strip,” he ordered.
“Fuck you.”
Marcus grabbed me by the throat and shoved me down to my knees on the cold floor. “Wrong answer.” His free hand yanked my shirt over my head, then he tore at my jeans until they were around my ankles. I tried to fight, but he was stronger, heavier, and the more I struggled the more his grip tightened. My cock twitched against my will, half-hard already, and he noticed.
“Look at that,” he laughed, giving it a rough squeeze. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? Little straight boy wants to get used.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but he shoved two fingers between my lips. “Suck. Get them wet.”
I gagged, but he pushed deeper until I had no choice. Spit ran down my chin. When he pulled his fingers out they were glistening. He reached behind me, shoved me forward onto my hands, and pressed one slick finger against my hole.
“No—fuck, Marcus—”
He pushed in anyway, knuckle-deep, then added the second finger fast and rough. The burn made my eyes water. I tried to crawl away but he pinned me with a knee between my shoulder blades and kept finger-fucking me, scissoring hard, stretching me open whether I wanted it or not.
“Gonna feel even bigger when it’s my cock,” he growled. He pulled his fingers free, spat on his palm, and smeared it over his dick. Then the blunt head was pressing against my hole, insistent, unforgiving.
I braced for it, but nothing prepared me for the stretch when he shoved inside. One long, brutal thrust that buried him to the balls. I yelled, the sound echoing off the concrete. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He just started pounding, hips slapping against my ass, each stroke deep and angry.
“Take it,” he grunted. “Fucking take that dick.”
My own cock was rock hard now, swinging between my legs, leaking onto the floor. Every thrust dragged across something inside me that made my vision spark. I hated it. I wanted more.
Marcus reached under me and wrapped a callused hand around my shaft, stroking in time with his thrusts.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me you want it.”
I shook my head, but the words tore out anyway. “Fuck—yes—harder.”
He laughed, mean and satisfied, and slammed into me faster. The wet sound of skin on skin filled the room. Sweat dripped from his chest onto my back. His balls slapped against mine with every brutal drive. I came first, shooting across the floor in thick ropes while my hole clenched around him. Marcus followed seconds later, burying himself deep and flooding me with hot pulses I felt all the way up my spine.
He stayed inside me while we both caught our breath, then slowly pulled out. Cum leaked down my thighs. He wiped his cock on my ass, stood up, and tossed my clothes at me.
“Next time you cross me,” he said, tucking himself away, “it’s gonna be in front of the whole crew.” The door unlocked. He left me there on the floor, used and dripping, cock still twitching from the best orgasm I’d ever had.
I already knew I’d be back tomorrow.
