Se réjouir !Rejoice!

Carles Grandal

“Nah—I won’t tell nobody,” I assured him. “Now get that big dick in me.”

“I’m—I’m Kirk,” I stammered, extending my hand, my eyes appraising every inch of his glorious body. “We haven’t met yet. I live on the same floor as you and your wife.”

“Reese,” he introduced himself, grasping my hand in an Alpha-male death grip. “And she’s not my wife—she’s just my girlfriend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I floundered, hitting the elevator button for our floor. “I just assumed you two are married because she looked to be—”

“Pregnant,” he cut me off. “Yeah—she’s six months. Fuck my life, right?”

“Right,” I smiled awkwardly. 

“What’s your deal?” Reese asked, his right eyebrow cocked. “You married, have a girlfriend?”

“Oh—god no,” I laughed. “I’m actually gay and, I know this probably sounds bad, but I have no interest in a long-term relationship.”

“You’d rather just sleep around?” he inquired, eyeing me up and down. “Fuck any guy you want?”

“Yeah,” I shrugged, for he had hit the nail on the head. “Is it fucked up that I prefer random hookups over a relationship?”

“Not at all,” he sympathized. “I was just like you—fucking around a lot—which is how I got stuck living with the bitch I knocked up.”

My jaw dropped at his admission, but before I could say anything, we arrived at our floor, the elevator doors opening. Reese extended his palm outward, signaling for me to exit before him.

“Which apartment are you?” he inquired as we walked down the hall. He was so close behind me that I could feel his warm breath at my neck.

“I’m in 642, just a couple doors down from you and your—uh—girlfriend,” I answered. “Feel free to drop by anytime if you need anything.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Reese replied halfheartedly, his key in his door. “See you around maybe.”

Back in my apartment, I poured myself a glass of wine and queued up the next episode of Severance. I had barely made it to the opening credits, when a rapid knock came at my door. A quick glance through the peephole revealed Reese, still shirtless, his arms crossed over his hairy pecs in an impatient stance.

“You said that I could stop by if I needed anything?” he ventured as I opened the door, his one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, sure. What can I—?”

But before I could finish, Reese pushed me through the doorway, the door slamming behind us. His muscular arms pulled me into him, his meaty hand traveling down the back of my shorts, searching for my hole.

“What I need,” he hissed in my ear, “is to get my big dick inside you.”

His thick finger pushed into me, probing my hole as he pulled down my shorts to my ankles. We had made it as far as my living room, where he spun me around, bending me over the side of the couch, my face pushed into the cushions. I looked back as he pulled down the front of his shorts, his nine-incher raging hard, eager to be buried in me.

He had removed his finger and was already pushing the rounded head of his cock against the pink folds of my sphincter. Was he intending to dry fuck me?

“Dude,” I begged. “You’re big as fuck. I’m gonna need some lube to get you in me. I’ve got some in my bedroom.”

But he ignored me, hawking a wad of saliva onto my hole, rubbing it into my sphincter with his cock head. And then, grabbing me by the hips—BAM—he was inside me.

“FUCK,” I cried out, my hole torn in two, a white-hot pain blinding me. I hadn’t been spit fucked since losing my virginity to my drunk uncle on a camping trip, his breath laced with beer as he pounded his load into me. And this hurt every bit as much as that time—possibly more. 

“Dude,” I tried to stop him. “Spit on it some more. My hole is too fucking dry.”

Thankfully, Reese complied, pulling out of me enough to hawk a second wad of saliva onto his thick shaft before pushing back into me. The additional spit helped, his cock gliding easily inside me, routing my depths. It had been awhile since I’d taken a cock that big, and I reveled in the fullness inside me.

“You like my ass?” I implored, seeking affirmation from him. “You like having that big dick in me?”

“Shit, man,” he exhaled, delivering some deep strokes. “It feels fucking incredible. It’s been a long time since I fucked a dude. I’d forgotten how much better it feels—how much tighter.”

“And you can cum in me,” I added, his balls slapping my ass. “Shoot that load up my ass.”

“Fuck that’s hot,” he replied, pounding me harder.

He raised himself onto the balls of his feet as he tilted my ass. The angle was incredible, his cock pounding my inner sphincter. His hands wrapped around my torso as he bent forward, pulling me into him, our bodies pressed together. Over and over he pummeled me, his sweaty, hairy chest rubbing against my back, his thick beard scratching my shoulder, driving me wild.

“OH FUCK,” he announced urgently, his big cock swelling inside me, pressing against the walls of my fuck canal.  “OH SHIT—I’m gonna shoot—FUCK—SHIT.”

His body convulsed, his cock throbbing inside me, his warm load shooting into my depths. I wondered if it felt the same for his girlfriend when he dumped his load in her, his seed charging to her womb, germinating inside her. Comparatively, his swimmers would experience a futile mission in my barren bowels.

“Damn, I needed that,” he pulled out of me abruptly, slapping me on the ass while his pearly cum streamed from the gaping cavern that was once my hole. 

“You’re welcome to clean up or shower, if you like,” I offered, my face still buried in the couch cushions, my ravaged body immobile. “There’s soap and towels in my bathroom.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Reese shrugged, pulling up his athletic shorts, stuffing his wet cock back into them as he returned to my front door. “See you around, bro.”

Weak on my legs, I ambled to my bedroom, crashing onto my bed. As I drifted off to a blissful, post-coital sleep, his load still leaking from me, I wondered if Reese might want to fuck me again soon. I didn’t have to wonder for long.

I was pouring myself a cup of coffee the next morning, my abused hole still puffy and sore, when another rapid knock came to my door. The peephole revealed Reese once again. 

“You interested in a quick fuck before I head to work?” he pushed inside my apartment as I opened the door, dragging me back to the couch. “I work better if I can dump a load before I start my day.”

“We don’t have to fuck on the couch,” I implored, as he bent me over the side again. “Wouldn’t you rather fuck me in my bed—with some lube?”

“Your bed?” he scoffed, hawking a wad of spit onto his big cock. “Why would I want to do that? I’m not your fucking boyfriend.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.