I met him at the bar after midnight, both of us a few drinks in and staring too long. His name was Marcus, thick arms, shaved head, and when he said “You ever let a guy fuck you?” I didn’t lie. I told him no but I’d thought about it every damn night. He grinned, paid the tab, and we walked straight to his place.
The door barely closed before he had me against it, tongue in my mouth, hand grabbing my cock through my jeans. “Strip,” he said, voice low and rough. I pulled everything off while he watched, then he shoved me onto the bed on all fours. “Ass up.” I felt exposed as hell, hole twitching in the cool air. He spat on it, rubbed the spit around with his thumb, and pushed one finger straight in. I grunted at the burn but pushed back anyway.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered, working that finger deeper, then adding a second. He finger-fucked me hard and fast, scissoring me open, no slow teasing. My cock hung heavy and leaking between my legs. “You want my dick in this virgin hole?” he asked. I nodded into the mattress. “Say it.” “Fuck me,” I said. “Put your cock in my ass.”
He ripped open a condom, slicked lube over his thick shaft, and pressed the head against my hole. No gentle push—he drove in halfway on the first thrust.
I yelled, pain and heat ripping through me, but he didn’t stop. He gripped my hips and shoved the rest in until his balls slapped my ass. “Goddamn, you’re taking it,” he growled, pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in. Every stroke stretched me wider, the burn turning into this deep, filthy fullness that made my cock jerk.
He fucked like he meant to ruin me—long, pounding strokes that shook the bed. I reached down and stroked myself in time with him, precum dripping onto the sheets. “Harder,” I begged, voice hoarse. He laughed once, then really let go, hips snapping, balls slapping, the wet sound of lube and skin filling the room. My hole clenched around him every time he bottomed out.
Marcus flipped me onto my back, pushed my legs to my chest, and sank back inside. Now I could see his face, eyes dark, mouth open as he watched his cock disappear into my ass. “Look at that greedy hole swallowing me,” he said. He leaned down, kissed me rough, then sat back up and drilled me faster. My prostate lit up with every thrust; my cock started to leak steady. I was moaning like a slut and didn’t care.
He pulled out, yanked the condom off, and straddled my chest. “Open.” I took his cock in my mouth, tasting lube and skin, while he jerked me off. Then he slid back down, pushed my legs apart again, and shoved back into my raw hole bare this time. The heat of his bare cock was different—hotter, thicker feeling. He fucked me with short, brutal strokes until I felt him swell. “Gonna fill this ass,” he warned. I nodded, jerking my own cock fast.
He came first, buried deep, hot pulses flooding my insides. The feeling pushed me over; I shot thick ropes across my stomach and chest while my ass milked him. Marcus stayed inside me until he softened, then eased out slow. Cum leaked down my crack onto the sheets.
We lay there breathing hard. After a minute he ran a hand over my chest. “You took that like you were made for it,” he said. I smiled, sore and satisfied, already thinking about the next time I’d get fucked.
