Mark had been married ten years when the urge finally broke him. He told his wife he was working late, parked the car two blocks from the bar, and walked in like he belonged. The guy was already there, tall, built, skin like polished dark wood. His name was Darius. No small talk. Darius grabbed Marks wrist and led him straight to the back room.
The door clicked shut. Darius unzipped and pulled out the thickest cock Mark had ever seen. Heavy, veined, already half-hard and hanging low. On your knees, husband, Darius said, voice low and rough. Mark dropped. He wrapped both hands around the shaft and still couldnt cover it. He opened his mouth and took the head, tongue flat, tasting salt and skin. Darius pushed forward, feeding more inches until Marks throat tightened and his eyes watered.
Fuck, thats it. Swallow that black cock like youve been dreaming about. Mark gagged but didnt pull back. He bobbed his head, spit running down his chin, one hand jerking the base while Darius gripped his hair and started fucking his face.
Each thrust pushed deeper. Marks own cock strained against his jeans, leaking into his underwear.
Darius pulled out, strings of spit connecting Marks lips to the glistening head. Strip. Mark obeyed fast, clothes in a pile on the dirty floor. Darius turned him around, bent him over a stack of crates, and spread his cheeks. A thick finger pressed against his hole, slick with spit, and pushed inside. Mark grunted. The finger twisted, opened him, then two fingers followed, scissoring and stretching.
Been a while, huh? Darius asked, adding a third finger. Mark nodded, breathing hard. Darius pulled his fingers free, lined up that massive cock, and pressed the head against Marks rim. The stretch burned. Mark pushed back anyway, hungry for it. Inch by inch Darius sank in, slow and relentless, until his heavy balls rested against Marks ass.
Take it, Darius growled. He started thrusting, long and deep. Every stroke dragged across Marks prostate and made his cock jerk untouched. The sound was filthyskin slapping, wet squelch, Marks broken moans. Darius grabbed his hips and picked up speed, pounding him hard enough the crates rocked.
Mark reached down and stroked himself in time with the thrusts. Harder, he begged. Darius gave it to him, slamming in until Marks vision blurred. He came first, shooting across the crates, hole clenching tight around the cock still buried inside him. Darius didnt stop. He fucked Mark through the aftershocks, then pulled out, spun him around, and shoved back into his mouth.
Mark tasted his own ass on that cock. He sucked greedily while Darius jerked the shaft and unloaded down his throat, thick pulses Mark swallowed without thinking. When Darius finally pulled free, Mark stayed on his knees, breathing ragged, cum and spit on his lips.
They met twice more that month. Each time Darius fucked him longer, harder, in different positions. Once bent over the hood of Dariuss truck, once riding him on the couch while Marks wife thought he was at the gym. Mark learned to take the whole length without gagging, learned to beg for it raw and deep, learned exactly how to clench when Darius was close so he got filled every time.
On the last night they had the apartment to themselves. Darius bent Mark over the kitchen table and railed him until the legs scraped across the floor. Mark came twice without touching himself, the second time with Dariuss load already leaking out of him. After, Darius made him lick the mess off the table while he watched.
Mark never told his wife. He kept the secret, kept the number, kept showing up whenever Darius texted. Every time that thick black cock pushed inside him, the rest of the world disappeared. He was just a husband who needed to get fucked, and Darius was the man who gave it to him exactly how he wanted itraw, deep, and without mercy.
