JJ Smuts walked into the bar like he owned the place. Tall, broad shoulders, rough hands that looked like they could grip tight and never let go. I was at the end of the counter nursing a whiskey when he slid onto the stool next to me.
"You look like you need a real fuck," he said, voice low and flat. No small talk. "My place is two blocks away. You coming or not?"
I finished my drink and followed him out. The walk was silent. Inside his apartment he kicked the door shut and shoved me against the wall. His mouth hit mine hard, tongue pushing in deep while his hands yanked my shirt up and off. He didn't bother with slow undressing. My jeans hit the floor in one pull. He dropped his own pants and his cock sprang out thick, already hard and leaking.
"On your knees," he ordered.
I went down. JJ Smuts grabbed the back of my head and fed me his dick. No warning, just shoved it straight to the back of my throat. I gagged but he held me there, hips rolling slow and steady while spit ran down my chin.
"That's it. Suck it like you mean it," he growled. He fucked my mouth in short, rough thrusts, balls slapping my chin each time he bottomed out. When he pulled out I was gasping, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his shiny cockhead.
He hauled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the kitchen table. One hand spread my ass while he spat on my hole and rubbed the head of his cock against it. No lube, just spit and precum. He pushed in with one hard shove. I cried out at the stretch but he didn't stop. He buried every inch and started pounding right away, hips slapping loud against my ass.
"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted. Each thrust drove me forward on the table. His balls swung heavy and hit me with every stroke. He reached under and grabbed my own cock, jerking it in time with his fucking. "You like getting used like this?"
I moaned yes. He laughed once, low and dirty, then pulled out and flipped me onto my back on the table. He hooked my legs over his shoulders and slammed back inside. The angle let him go deeper. He leaned down and bit my nipple hard while he kept driving his cock in and out.
Sweat dripped off him onto my chest. The table creaked under us. He fucked like he was trying to break me open, long strokes that pulled almost all the way out before ramming back in. My hole burned and clenched around him. Every time he bottomed out he ground his hips, rubbing that thick head against my prostate until I was leaking onto my stomach.
He pulled out again, dragged me to the floor on all fours, and mounted me from behind. This time he went even harder. Skin slapped skin. His fingers dug into my hips hard enough to bruise. "Take it," he snarled. "Take every fucking inch."
I pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. He reached around and stroked my cock fast and rough until I came hard, shooting across the floor while my ass spasmed around his dick. JJ Smuts didn't stop. He kept pounding through my orgasm, using my hole until his rhythm broke. He shoved in deep one last time and unloaded, hot pulses of cum flooding inside me.
He stayed buried for a minute, breathing heavy, then pulled out slow. Cum leaked down my thighs. He stood up, wiped his cock on my ass cheek, and said, "Shower's that way if you want to clean up. Or you can stay and get fucked again in ten minutes."
I stayed. Round two was slower but still raw. He bent me over the shower wall and fucked me under the hot spray, one hand around my throat, the other jerking me until I came again. After that we moved to the bed. He lay back and had me ride him, watching my face while I worked his cock with my ass. When he got close he flipped us and finished on top, pounding me into the mattress until he filled me a second time.
By morning my body ached in the best way. JJ Smuts made coffee like nothing happened, then bent me over the counter one more time before I left. No promises, no numbers exchanged. Just that thick cock stretching me open and the sound of his voice telling me exactly how he was going to use me.
I walked out sore, leaking, and already thinking about the next time he'd say those same words: "You coming or not?"
