The old bastard had me pinned against the kitchen counter before I could even set my beer down. His name was Frank, sixty-two, built like a retired trucker with thick arms and a gut that pressed hard into my back. I was thirty-five, but that didn't matter to him. He wanted my ass and he was taking it.
"Shut the fuck up and bend," Frank growled. His voice was gravel and smoke. One meaty hand shoved between my shoulder blades while the other yanked my jeans down to my thighs. My cock flopped out half-hard from the sudden rush of it. I tried to twist away but he was stronger, years of manual labor giving him the edge. He kicked my legs apart and spit on his fingers.
I felt the wet press against my hole and then two thick digits shoving inside. No slow tease, just raw force. "Tight little fuckhole," he muttered. "Gonna open you up for this cock."
My protests died when he curled those fingers and rubbed my prostate. A grunt escaped me instead. Frank laughed low and mean. He pulled his fingers out, unzipped, and slapped his cock against my ass cheeks. It was heavy, veined, and already leaking. Older cock, thick at the base, the head dark and blunt. He lined up and pushed.
The stretch burned. I gripped the counter edge as he forced inch after inch inside me without lube beyond his spit. "Take it," he ordered. "You came here knowing what I wanted." He was right. I'd shown up after his text, half-hoping, half-terrified. Now his balls pressed against mine and he was buried to the hilt.
Frank started thrusting. Hard, short strokes that rocked my whole body. Every time he bottomed out I felt the slap of his heavy sack. My own cock swung between my legs, dripping onto the floor. He reached around and grabbed it, stroking rough and fast in time with his hips.
"Look at you leaking like a whore," he said. "Younger guy getting wrecked by mature cock. Say it."
I shook my head. He slammed in deeper and twisted my nipple through my shirt until I gasped. "Say it."
"Fuck… older mature forced cock," I choked out.
Frank grunted approval and picked up speed. The wet sound of his cock pounding my hole filled the small kitchen. Sweat dripped from his chest onto my back. He smelled like sweat, beer, and that sharp older-man musk that made my balls tighten.
He pulled out suddenly, spun me around, and shoved me to my knees. His cock, shiny with my ass, slapped my cheek. "Suck it clean," he demanded. I opened and he fed it straight to the back of my throat. Gagging, eyes watering, I took as much as I could while he held my head with both hands and fucked my face.
Saliva ran down my chin. He pulled back just enough to let me breathe then drove in again. "That's it. Choke on mature dick." My cock throbbed untouched, a string of pre-cum stretching to the floor.
Frank hauled me up, bent me over the table this time, and slammed back inside. The new angle hit my prostate dead-on. I moaned loud and shameless. He reached under and jerked my cock with the same brutal rhythm he used to fuck me.
"Gonna breed this hole," he warned. "Fill you up with older cum."
His thrusts grew erratic. I felt his cock swell, then pulse deep inside me. Hot spurts flooded my guts while he kept stroking me. The combination pushed me over. I shot hard across the table, ropes splattering the wood as my ass clenched around him.
Frank stayed buried until he softened. When he finally pulled out, cum leaked down my thighs. He slapped my ass once, satisfied.
"Next week same time," he said, zipping up. "Don't be late or I'll force it rougher."
I stayed bent over the table, breathing hard, hole twitching, already wondering how much more I could take from that older mature cock.
