The Chosen

It was just before midnight on a Friday when he knocked at my door. I knew instantly who he wanted—and what he wanted.

“Is Bella home?” he slurred, beer on his breath, his engorged cock bulging through his jeans. “She’s not answering my texts.”

“Bella’s at the lake this weekend with some friends,” I reported. “Cell service is spotty up there.”

Although I didn’t know his name, I easily recognized him as one of the many guys who fucked my roommate Bella on a regular basis. The slutty bitch had more friends-with-benefits than I could count. The horny guys would show up to our apartment near campus at all hours of the day and night, Bella leading each guy back to her room and spreading her legs for him.

I couldn’t judge Bella too harshly because, to be honest, I was kind of a slut myself. Yet I was jealous of the bitch, who scored way more cock than me. And I had to admit it was hot as fuck to eavesdrop on her frequent fuckfests—guys pounding her pussy and grunting their loads into her always-available cunt.

Thus, I felt a little bad for the hot, horny guy standing in my doorway. He just needed to drop a load and, sadly, Bella was not around to give her cunt to him—but I was.

“When’s she getting back?” the hot stud persisted, adjusting his package.

“Not until Sunday night.”

“Fuck,” he lamented. “She got any friends?”

“Friends?” I parroted incredulously. “What do you mean?”

“You know—other bitches. Easy bitches.”

“An easy bitch you could fuck?” I taunted.

“Yeah. I need some snatch, bro.”

“You can fuck my snatch,” I offered brazenly, locking eyes with him. “I’m an easy bitch.”

“The fuck?!” he spat.

“You heard me,” I persisted. “I’ve got a tight cunt—tighter than Bella’s.”

“Dude. I might be hard up for some pussy,” he laughed, “but I’m not that hard up. I ain’t gonna stick my dick in you.”

“Your loss, bro,” I began to say as he turned and left, muttering something about dirty faggots under his breath.

At least I tried, I told myself. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I scrolled Grindr for the next hour but, when nothing turned up, I threw in the towel and went to bed.

It was barely 7 am when an urgent knock sounded at the door. I thought maybe something happened to Bella, that she was home early and didn’t have her key. I sprang out of bed, shocked to find the hot stud at my door again.

He looked like shit, as if he’d been up all night. And from the looks of the bulge at his crotch, the dude had yet to lose his load.

“Bella’s still not here,” I began, annoyed that the fucker had woken me up.

“I know that,” he barked, pushing his way inside. “I need to fuck, bro. And right now, your hole is the only option I’ve got.”

Any port in a storm, I wanted to say. “Right this way, dude,” I replied instead, leading him to my room quickly before he could sober up and change his mind.

Before I could suggest it, he had already stripped out of his clothes, his thick nine-incher rock hard and leaking precum. Slipping out of my briefs, I quickly prepped my hole with the ever-present bottle of lube on my bed table.

“You want me to suck you some before—?”

“No,” he spat. “Just fuckin’ bend over.”

Obediently, I bent over the bed, my hands gripping the mattress and, before I could count to three—the hung fucker was balls deep in me.

“FUCK,” I cried out, my hole ripped in two as he went from zero to sixty in three seconds, pummeling my ass at a breakneck pace.

I could have told him to slow up—to allow me to adjust to his massive girth—but there was no point. I had been fucked by enough horny straight guys to know that my comfort and pleasure was of no importance. My hole was no different than a pocket pussy to him, an inanimate object that’s only purpose was to drain his balls.

And so I gave into him, enjoying the ride as he battered my hole relentlessly. Despite lacking the finesse of an experienced top, his big dick felt incredible inside of me.

The unjust truth about hung guys is that they really don’t need to have much technique to get by, relying instead on the sheer size of their endowment to deliver a phenomenal ride. And this stud was definitely delivering—getting my prostate with each thrust, causing my cock to become rock hard as he assaulted my hole.

“Shit, you’ve got a big dick,” I smiled gleefully, stroking my cock in synch with his deep thrusts. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, driving me harder. “I don’t need to hear your fucking voice.”

Message received. Dutifully, I kept quiet, continuing to stroke myself as he railed my ass mercilessly. Jesus, he was a fuck machine. His stamina was impressive, his balls slapping my ass over and over as he jackhammered my eager cunt.

I was feeling good—really good—stroking myself blissfully with his big dick up my ass. And soon, before I could do anything to stop it, I needed to cum. My balls tightening, pressure building in my shaft, I stroked myself faster and faster until I was spewing my load onto the bed.

With each shot of cum, my sphincter contracted simultaneously and gripped the hung stud’s cock, effectively jacking him off inside me. The experience is orgasm inducing for most tops, and this guy proved to be no exception.

“Fuck, bro,” he announced urgently. “I’m gonna bust.”

“Yeah, dude, fuckin’ shoot that load in me,” I begged, breaking my imposed silence. “Fucking breed my cunt.”

Instantly, I could feel his cock swelling inside me, the orgasmic pressure mounting inside him. He delivered one last thrust deep into my bowels before detonation, his body convulsing, an intense pulsation within me.

“FUCK,” he grunted, his cock throbbing, ejecting shot after shot of his warm load into my depths.

“Mmm, yeah. Fucking seed me,” I moaned, reveling in the intoxicating sensation of being bred by a hung stud.

With his balls emptied, he pulled out of me abruptly, leaving a cavernous void in his wake. Instantly, I felt his warm load escaping from my gaping hole, streaming down the back of my leg.

Wordlessly, he got dressed, stuffing his wet cock into his jeans. Not a word of thanks. No gratitude offered. But I knew not to be offended.

An unfortunate truth is that once a straight guy has used you for his pleasure and dumped his load in your available hole, you are nothing to him. The sight of you disgusts him. The reality of what he just did with you sickens him. In his mind, you cease to exist.

But I wasn’t a hapless victim in the exchange. Though I knew I’d never get the hung stud’s cock again, for repeats rarely happen with straight guys, I still got what I wanted—his big dick and his warm load up my ass, even if it was just a one-time ride.

Bella returned from the lake on Sunday night, full of reports of her weekend debauchery. Getting tagged by four guys in her tent. A threesome with a set of hot twins. And getting dicked-down in the woods by her best friend’s hung boyfriend while her friend was passed out drunk. Sluts be sluts.

I held my tongue regarding my own weekend debauchery with the hung stud, knowing that Bella can be territorial about the guys she fucks. After polishing off a bottle of wine over her sordid tales, we were each about ready to call it a night when a knock sounded at the door. Bella bounded to the door to answer it.

“Tristan,” she cooed, greeting the hung stud who had railed my ass in her absence. “You should have texted. I was just going to bed, but since you’re here—”

“I’m not here to fuck you,” Tristan pushed her aside as he moved towards me. “I’m here to fuck him.”

“My—uh—my hotel is way up the beach,” he gestured towards the north. “I took a long walk along the shore after lunch, and then I must have fallen asleep in this hammock.”

“There’s not time for you to get back to your hotel,” I advised him. “Why don’t you come with me? My condo is right across the street from here. I’m Dale,” I extended my hand, pulling him off the hammock.

“I’m Benton,” he replied, the storm clouds rapidly obscuring the sky, a sudden wind battering our bodies. Large drops of rain started to splat against the sand. 

Five minutes later, the deluge began. Benton was safe in my apartment, still attired in nothing but his swim trunks, watching the storm through the glass doors to my ocean-view balcony. A crack of lightning split the sky, striking not far from the hammock that he had just occupied. 

“I’m glad you’re not out there,” I stated, thunder booming above us, rattling the windows. “You could have been electrocuted—you could have died.”

“Maybe I should have died,” Benton lowered his head, a tear running down his face.

“Don’t say that,” I gasped. “What’s—what’s going on with you?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t really want to die,” he wiped at his face with embarrassment. “It’s just been a shitty few days.”

“Hey—it’s okay,” I offered soothingly, grabbing him by the hands, taking him to my couch. “You wanna talk about it?”

“You—you don’t want to hear my problems,” he shook his head, sitting next to me. 

“No—I do,” I insisted, stroking his back. “This storm is gonna have you stuck here with me for a while. You might as well tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be here alone,” Benton wiped at a tear. “I booked this beach vacation for my girlfriend Ellie and me. I was gonna propose to her—I had the ring and everything. But then two days before we were to travel here, I came home early and caught her fucking a dude from her work.”

“Oh my god,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry. That’s the worst. But maybe there’s a silver lining to it—maybe it was the universe intervening? Imagine if you’d had married her and then she cheated on you?”

“That’s what my buddies all said, too,” Benton swiped at another tear. “They encouraged me to come here without her. They said I just needed to smash a lot of pussy and that I’ll soon forget the bitch.”

“It’s not bad advice,” I agreed. 

“Yeah, but it hasn’t worked out that way,” he started to sob. “I can’t even bring myself to approach the girls I see on the beach or in the bars. I just walk the shore all day and night, thinking that I’m gonna live the rest of my life alone.”

Benton broke down at that point, sobbing hard. Instinctively, I reached for him, pulling him into a hug as he cried on my shoulder, his hairy chest heaving in waves of grief. I rubbed his back, whispering softly in his ear that I was there for him and everything was going to be alright. 

“Nobody’s ever been this nice to me,” Benton wiped at his tears, pulling away as he stared into my eyes, our faces inches apart. And then it happened. Wrapping one of his muscular arms around my back, he pulled me into him. Our lips met, his stache tickling me. Our tongues danced. The earth shifted.

“What the fuck was that?” I gasped as our lips parted, still in shock that this hot-as-fuck straight boy had kissed me out of the blue, rocking my world.  

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” Benton apologized frantically as he started to stand up. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No—stop,” I pulled him back down on the couch with me. “Don’t apologize. What you did was hot as fuck. You’re an amazing kisser.”

“Yeah?” he smiled bashfully. 

“Yeah,” I affirmed. “But I don’t understand. I thought you were straight. You were just crying over your ex-girlfriend. I guess I’m just—I guess I’m confused.”

“I’m the one who’s confused,” Benton sighed. “I’ve never told anybody this, but I’ve known for a long time that I’m attracted to guys. It scares the shit outta me, so I always just ignore it. But then you were so nice to me just now, and I think you’re cute as fuck, and I couldn’t stop myself. I had to kiss you.”

“I’m glad you did,” I smiled, my hand on his hairy thigh. “I think you needed that kiss to confirm what you already knew inside—that you’re into guys. Maybe your girlfriend picked up on that? Maybe she cheated on you because she knew instinctively that she could never be what you really needed?”

“I dunno—maybe,” Benton conceded, leaning over and kissing me once more, fireworks in my brain. “All I really know,” he whispered as our lips parted, his breath suddenly hot at my ear, “is that I want to be inside you.”

Instantly, he pulled me to the floor, tearing off my shorts and t-shirt. The storm continued to rage outside, but an even bigger one was brewing within the confines of my condo. 

“We can go to my bed,” I suggested, naked on the floor as Benton hovered over me, fumbling with the drawstring of his swim trunks. But my suggestion was forgotten when he undid his trunks, kicking them to the floor as his massive cock came into view. “Jesus, you’re hung,” I gasped. 

“It’s not all that big,” he declared with false modesty while giving it a tug. His cock was easily nine inches and thicker than my wrist. Christ, it was gonna hurt and yet feel so fucking good. 

Before I knew it, I was flat on my back. Benton was pushing my legs over my head, my hole exposed to him. He began to push his cock head against the tight knot of my sphincter. 

“Dude,” I stopped him. “You gotta let me get it wet for you first.”

I sat up quickly, taking his massive member in my mouth. Expertly, I swirled my tongue around his fat cock head and his thick shaft before taking him balls deep. 

“Dayum,” he exclaimed, his meaty hand at the back of my head, his balls pressed against my chin. “I’ve never had a bitch take me to the balls.”

“I think you’ll find I’m able to do a lot of things that a bitch can’t do,” I surfaced for air, my saliva coating his thick fuck tool. “How about you get that big dick up my ass and find out for yourself?”

Eager to fuck me, Benton pushed me back to the floor, his meaty hands pushing my knees into my chest. He looked downward as he aimed his cock at the bullseye of my hole and—BAM—he was inside me. 

“Fuck, your tight,” he marveled, a bolt of pain flashing through my body just like the lightning outside. “I’ve never had pussy this tight,” he began to thrust inside me. 

“Go slow at first,” I advised, bearing the pain through gritted teeth, not wishing to discourage him when it was his first time fucking a guy. “Just gimme a minute to adjust, okay?”

But Benton was like a kid with a new toy at Christmas, wanting to see everything it could do at once. He was pounding me hard, battering my bowels, going deeper than he ever could in a bitch. In some ways, that big tool helped to pound away the discomfort rapidly. I was soon writhing in pleasure, waves of ecstasy consuming me. 

“Fuck me with that big cock,” I moaned, extending my legs and wrapping them around his meaty ass. “Wreck my hole with that big dick.”

The feeling of unparalleled fullness inside of me was overwhelming, my toes curling as Benton routed my depths. Planking above me, his hands driven into the floor on either side of me, Benton leaned forward and kissed me. With his hairy chest rubbing against mine, his tongue probed my mouth just as his cock was probing my hole. The sensation was mind-blowing.

“Christ, I love kissing you,” he shared as our lips parted. “You make me feel things I never felt before when kissing girls.”

“Sometimes you gotta kiss a few frogs before you find a prince,” I joked, wrapping my arms around his torso, rubbing his sweaty back as he labored above me. 

He was pummeling me hard, jackhammering the living shit out of my quivering cunt. I wanted Benton to slow down, to make it last. But it was his first time with a guy, and I had been dicked down by enough straight guys to know that rough and fast was their default setting. Plus, with the storm still raging outside, Benton was going nowhere in a hurry. There was plenty of time for round two. 

“I’m feeling close,” he announced, picking up the pace, driving me impossibly hard. “You want me to pull out when I shoot?”

“Absolutely not,” I commanded, locking my sphincter around his swollen shaft. “I want you to breed me—dump that load up my ass.”

“Fuck that’s hot,” he exclaimed, staring down at his cock as he delivered a series of final thrusts into my bowels. “I’m getting close—OH FUCK—I’m gonna shoot, bro—OH FUCK—Yeah, take my nut—FUUUUCK.”

Benton convulsed on top of me, his cock throbbing intensely as he shot rope after rope of his warm seed into my depths. “FUCK—FUCK,” he continued to grunt, his cock discharging rhythmically, flooding my guts. 

“That’s it—fill me with your seed,” I moaned, pulling him into me as he bred me, our sweaty bodies melded as one. “Make me yours.”

After his cock stopped throbbing within me, his balls emptied for the moment, we began to doze, his cock still buried in my depths. A clap of thunder awoke us. Startled, Benton pulled out of me, his pearly seed dripping from my gaping hole. 

“This storm isn’t gonna be over anytime soon. Why don’t we go to my bedroom?” I suggested, the hard floor uncomfortable beneath me. “My comfy bed will feel a lot nicer.”

“Sure—but I don’t think I’m ready to go to sleep just yet,” Benton hesitated. 

“Who said anything about sleep?” I smiled deviously, steering his incredible body to my bedroom. “I plan on riding you all night long.”

And I did—taking load after load from him over the course of the next several hours, his big cock pulverizing my cunt in the best possible way. We finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, the storm outside quieting down around the same time that we did. 

I awoke late the next morning, the storm long gone, sunlight flooding my bedroom. I gave a stretch, my body still in post-coital bliss. But then I realized that I was alone in bed—Benton was gone. Like a typical straight guy, he had snuck out before I had awakened, unable to face the aftermath of his actions in the light of day. All good things must come to an end, I told myself with a deep sigh. 

But then I found Benton in the kitchen, talking quietly on his phone. He was wearing my bathrobe, the front partly open and loosely tied, his hairy chest taunting me. 

“Look—I gotta go,” Benton said into his phone upon seeing me. “We can figure out the details later, okay?”

“Who—who was that?” I asked as he ended the call. 

“It was Ellie,” he confessed. “She called to apologize for hooking up with that guy from work. She wants me to come back home and work things out between us. She still wants to be with me.”

“What—what did you tell her?” I asked, my heart in my throat. 

“I told her that I wasn’t coming home,” Benton reported. “I said that I had met someone on vacation, and that I think it could be love, and that I want to see where things might go with him.”

“You’re—you’re serious?” I stammered in disbelief as Benton pulled me into his arms, elation consuming my body and soul. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Benton kissed me. “I’m a freelance journalist, so I can work from anywhere. I told Ellie to pack up my shit and I would call her back later with your address. I hope you don’t mind if I crash on your couch for a short while until I can find my own place.”

“Crash on my couch?” I laughed, pulling him back to my bedroom, eager to get his big dick inside me again. “The only place your ass belongs is in my bed.”

“No charge,” I assured him, reaching for that big dick. “Only thing I want when you leave is your cum in my belly.”

The universe smiled at me when, a week after my boyfriend dumped me and kicked me out of his apartment, my distant Uncle Leroy died unexpectedly. Leroy left me his 1970s, wood-paneled, double-wide trailer on a little plot of land in a town about 60-miles outside of Macon. 

It was hard to call it a town, more of a blip on the map. One street light presided over a highway junction with a looming Baptist church on one corner. A gas station, a feed store, and a Piggly Wiggly rounded out the intersection, with a train track cutting right down the middle. Other than a handful of side streets with a few small businesses and tiny homes with deep porches, farmland extended out from the center of town for as far as the eye could see. 

I was happy in that small town, except for one small problem—I was horny as fuck. There were no bars in town, no place to pick up guys. And every time I attempted Grindr, the nearest guy was an hour’s drive away. I was getting desperate, so I took matters into my own hands. 

Creeping into the men’s room of the corner gas station, armed with a black Sharpie, I scrawled the following on the wall above the urinal:

Need a BJ? Text 555-7491

And then I went home to wait—and wait—and wait. After almost a week of zero response, I was about to go back to make sure someone hadn’t scrubbed my number off the wall. But while watching The Price is Right one morning, a text finally arrived. It was a picture of a big cock—thick, veiny, with a fat head.

“You want this big one?” the guy texted along with the dick pic. 

“Fuck YES!” I replied by text. “I’m in the yellow double wide at the end of Pecan Street.”

“You a dude?” 

“Yes. That OK?” I texted back. 

“It’s cool. Be there in 10.”

The next 10 minutes passed slower than molasses until I saw his black F-150 pull up in front of my trailer. I watched from the window as he walked up to my door, a big country buck approaching. 

He was easily 6’5” tall, muscular with tattoos on both arms—a typical farm-raised man. A well-trimmed mustache crowned his full lips, with wide-set eyes peeking out beneath the brim of his cap. And his denim overalls did nothing to conceal his promising bulge. 

“Come on in,” I greeted, welcoming him inside and gesturing to a green velvet chair that I had designated for the event. 

“We gotta make this quick,” he warned. “I gotta pick up my pa at the feed store in like twenty minutes.”

“No worries,” I assured him as I closed the front door behind us, bummed that the blow job would have to be a quick dine and dash. 

“This used to be Leroy Brewster’s place,” he remarked, taking the chair. “That fucker was batshit crazy.”

“Haha,” I chuckled. “He was my uncle.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I had no idea Leroy was your kin. You know, you kinda look like him—especially around your eyes and mouth. He was much too young to die, still in his prime. That dang train came outta nowhere. My respects to your family.”

“Thanks,” I shrugged. “But you’re right about Leroy—he was batshit crazy. I honestly didn’t know him all that well, but he left me this trailer.”

“I—uh—I like what you’ve done with the place,” he remarked, looking around the room.

“I haven’t done a thing,” I replied flatly. “This is the way I found it.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you. So are you gonna suck my dick or are we gonna talk about your dead uncle all day?”

“Let's get that cock sucked,” I offered eagerly, not wishing to discuss my uncle anymore. But as the country buck started to pull out his big one, he made me assure him there would be no charge for my services, which I agreed. I may be a slut, but I’m not a whore. 

“FUCK,” I gasped when the enormity of his big cock was revealed to me. His dick pic had failed to represent the sheer size of his member. My only regret was that there wouldn’t be time for me to offer to ride him, taking his load up my ass instead of down my throat.

“Shit, that feels good,” he moaned, tipping his head back as I began to slobber all over his big tool. “I needed me some head so fuckin’ bad. It’s been awhile.”

Christ, his big one was a jaw breaker. I had to work to find just the right angle to deep throat him all the way. But I was determined. 

“HOLY FUCK,” he gasped as his big cock finally traversed my tonsils and all the way down my throat, his big balls mashed against my chin. “Ain’t nobody ever managed to get it down like that, not even the guy who used to suck me off.”

“I’ve got mad skills,” I bragged, coming up for a quick breath, saliva coating my chin. “Fuck you’re hung. I bet the bitches scream when you pound them with this big one.”

“Fuck right,” he agreed, grabbing his cock by the base and slapping my cheek with it, an audible thud. I wondered if I’d have a bruise. 

Deftly, I took his big dick down my throat again, locking my lips as I slid it in and out of my throat, curling my tongue around his cock head before shoving it back down my throat again.

“Shit, bro,” he exclaimed. “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna bust.”

Emboldened, I picked up the pace, gobbling up and down on that big dick, his hairy balls smashing my chin with each downbeat. I cupped his balls as they began to hug his body, priming the pump. The dude wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“Oh fuck—oh fuck—OH FUCK,” he barked, his cock erupting down my throat, a firehose of cum blasting my guts. His farm boy cum was rich and creamy with a slight tang, like fresh buttermilk. 

“That was fucking HOT,” I exclaimed as I finally surfaced for air, cum and saliva smeared on my chin. 

“Yeah, that was pretty damn, fuckin’ good,” he complimented, stuffing his spent cock back into his overalls before looking at the clock on the wall. “I best be goin’.”

“Right,” I acknowledged, disappointed the fun was already over. 

“You have any other luck with that wall posting at the gas station?” he asked as I saw him to the door. 

“Nah,” I shrugged. “Just you so far.”

“You take it up the ass?” he asked. 

“Fuck YES,” I replied a bit too eagerly. “You want to come back and fuck me sometime soon?”

“I was more thinking you could come out to my place, out on Route 12 past the truck stop,” he suggested. “Ma up and left us about five years ago, so it’s just Pa and me and my eight brothers. I know they’d enjoy—uh—meeting you.”

“They all hung like you?”

“Yup,” he laughed. “Having a big dick is sort of a family trait. Why don’t you come by tonight? We sure could use a cumdump like you, since the one we had ain’t around no more.”

“Yeah? Who was your cumdump?”

“Your batshit crazy Uncle Leroy,” he laughed, slapping me on the back. 

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