Marcus stood over the kneeling man like he owned the room and everything in it. "Open that mouth, boy," he growled, his deep voice filling the small apartment. Tyrone's hands shook as he reached up and unzipped the thick bulge in Marcus's jeans. The cock that flopped out was heavy, veined, and already half-hard, dark skin stretched tight over the shaft. Tyrone leaned in and took the head between his lips without being told twice.
Marcus didn't ease him in. He grabbed the back of Tyrone's head with one big hand and shoved forward, driving half his length down the younger man's throat in one thrust. Tyrone gagged, spit spilling from the corners of his mouth, but Marcus held him there. "That's it. Choke on it. You came here for black dick to run your life, so take it." He pulled back only to slam forward again, fucking Tyrone's face in steady, rough strokes. Every time Tyrone tried to pull off for air, Marcus pushed him back down harder.
When Marcus finally let him up, Tyrone's face was wet and his own cock was straining against his pants. Marcus kicked off his jeans and peeled his shirt over his head, revealing thick shoulders and a chest that looked carved from stone. "Strip and bend over the couch," he ordered. Tyrone hurried to obey, kicking his clothes away and presenting his ass. Marcus ran a rough palm over the smooth cheeks, then brought his hand down hard. The slap cracked through the room. Tyrone jerked and moaned. Marcus spanked him again, harder, until the skin turned a deep reddish-brown and Tyrone's legs trembled.
Marcus spit on his fingers and shoved two inside without warning. Tyrone pushed back against them, hungry. "Please, sir," he breathed. Marcus laughed low in his throat. "Please what? Say it like you mean it." "Please fuck me with that big black dick. Own this ass." Marcus pulled his fingers out, lined up, and drove in balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Tyrone cried out, but Marcus didn't stop. He gripped Tyrone's hips and pounded him, the sound of skin slapping skin loud and wet. Every stroke bottomed out, stretching him wide, using him like a toy built for exactly this.
Marcus reached around and wrapped a fist around Tyrone's leaking cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. "You don't come until I say. This hole belongs to me now." He fucked harder, changing angles until he hit the spot that made Tyrone's whole body shake. Sweat ran down Marcus's chest and dripped onto Tyrone's back. He leaned over, biting the back of Tyrone's neck while he drove in deep and stayed there, grinding.
After a long stretch of that relentless pace, Marcus pulled out and flipped Tyrone onto his back on the couch. He pushed Tyrone's legs up and apart, then sank back in, watching the younger man's face twist with every inch.
"Look at me while I wreck you," Marcus demanded. Tyrone's eyes locked on his, glassy and desperate. Marcus fucked him like that, slow and grinding one moment, fast and punishing the next, until Tyrone was babbling, begging to come.
Marcus finally wrapped a hand around Tyrone's throat, not squeezing hard, just holding him in place. "Come for me, boy. Show me who owns this ass." Tyrone came with a broken shout, shooting across his own stomach. Marcus kept fucking him through it, using the tight clench to push himself over the edge. He buried himself to the hilt and unloaded deep inside, pulse after pulse of hot cum filling Tyrone up.
When he finally pulled out, Marcus watched his load leak from the stretched hole. He scooped some up with two fingers and pushed it back in. "Clean my fingers," he said. Tyrone sucked them greedily. Marcus smirked, already getting hard again. "We're not done. On your knees. We're going again until I decide you've earned the right to walk straight." Tyrone dropped without hesitation, mouth open, ready for whatever came next. Marcus stepped forward, guiding his cock back between those swollen lips, and started all over.
