I slammed the door behind us, the cheap motel room reeking of stale smoke and cheap cologne. Mark shoved me against the wall, his mouth crushing mine, tongue pushing deep like he wanted to fuck my throat right there. His hands ripped at my shirt, buttons popping, and I grabbed his thick cock through his jeans, squeezing hard until he groaned.
"Fuck yeah, get that dick out," I growled, dropping to my knees. I yanked his zipper down and his fat cock sprang free, already leaking. I licked the head, tasting salt and sweat, then swallowed him whole. Mark thrust forward, hands in my hair, fucking my face like he owned it. Spit ran down my chin as I gagged on every inch, balls slapping my jaw.
He pulled out, spun me around, and bent me over the bed. My pants hit the floor and cool air hit my ass. Mark spat on my hole, rubbed it in with two fingers, then lined up and shoved his cock in deep. I cursed, pushing back, taking every thick inch. He pounded me hard, skin slapping, the bed creaking under us. Each thrust hit my prostate and made my own cock drip onto the sheets.
"Take it, you filthy fuck," he snarled, grabbing my hips and slamming faster. I reached down and stroked myself in time with his rhythm, balls tightening. He flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove in again. Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine.
I clenched around him, milking every stroke until he roared and flooded my ass with hot cum.
I came right after, ropes shooting across my stomach while he kept thrusting through it. We collapsed, breathing hard, his cock still twitching inside me. Round two started when he pulled out, flipped me again, and told me to suck him clean. I did, tasting us both, already hard for more.
