A typical night at a gay club. The music was bad techno, alcohol was watered down, and drugs were being snorted in the sleazy unisex bathroom. This particular club is a staple of the gay community in this city, it’s been around forever. It’s that bar you go to after you’ve bar-hopped all night and everyone ends up there. The last bar you see before waking up in some dude’s bed with a sore ass and dried cum in your hair.
I have a type. I like the butch guys; military, firefighters, cops, etc. I was military myself, so I was used to that kind of dude; closeted or on the down low. Hyper masculine or trying to be. Always jacked bodies.
I’m versatile. I go through spurts when I only want to top and then times when I only want to bottom. I have no problem being strictly one or the other for a certain kind of guy. A taller guy, built, aggressive, I’m going to find myself with my ass stuffed full of his cock. Smaller guys; jacked to lean, hot ass, I’m going to find my cock balls deep in his ass. If I’m in a group situation, three-ways and four-ways are great, I prefer bottom, the only bottom is even better. I don’t know what it is but being on my back, a hot dude railing on me and then without warning he yanks out and another hot dude slides in is the perfect scenario. I often think a triad relationship would be best for me. Two tops and me. Of course, two bottoms and me as the top wouldn’t me too shabby. Ok, now I’m just getting distracted.
My point is, I like knowing a bunch of hot dudes are getting off on fucking me. I’m a muscular guy, gym rat. I really pride myself on not being the stereotypical gay guy. I’m not swishy, a purse doesn’t fall out of my mouth when I speak. Guys like bedding me down. I have one of those asses that stands out; bubble, high and tight, very fuckable.
I like real men. Closeted dudes are the best, always masculine, no strings attached, pump and dump, one and done. I think dudes got off on me because I look straight and most of the time, they assume I’m a straight guy who stumbled into a gay bar and decided to have my first homo experience. Truth be told, I’ve played that part before. Gets me more attention. Gay dudes love the idea of turning a straight guy. I’m guilty of that too. Nothing better than seeing a straight dude’s face, his eyes wakening to the revelation that man-pussy isn’t that bad after all.
This night in question found me at this club with a buddy. I hate to admit it, but I don’t really dance. I’m just too big and bulky? I’d rather “stand and pose.” I like to sip on a Rum & Coke, stand to the side and prowl. My eyes are constantly scanning for that one guy who catches my eye and I catch his. I am bothered all night by effeminate queens who like to squeeze my arms or pat my ass. If he’s built, I may throw him a line and string him along. Get a nice make out session. But tonight, I’m on the hunt for aggressive and masculine.
After an hour or so, I see HIM. He’s about my height, perfect body, tight t-shirt and a light brown buzz cut. He had me at buzz cut. That could only mean one thing: military. And from his stance, his stone-like expression, his dominating presence, this slice of meat was a marine.
I’ve been with my share of marines. These guys fall into two categories: power top or power bottom, no in between. These guys are trained to be tough and aggressive. They can take emotion of the equation if need be. The power bottoms take orders well and the power tops give them even better. Both love rough sex, rough verbal sex. My experience with marines leads me to believe that branch of the armed forces is the best to fuck around with. Down and dirty, no holds barred fucking and breeding. Luckily, for me, I happened to be their type. Classically handsome, square jaw, blue eyes and built like a football jock and I can pass for straight. Being military myself always works in my favor.
I saw him and assessed my strategy. I told my buddy of my intended target and not to wait for me when it was time to leave. I pointed the marine out to him and when I did, I got a zap of electricity. He was staring right at me. I automatically looked down; I don’t know why. I suddenly felt like I was supposed to. His eye contact was so intense and direct. His eyes drilled through me and like telepathy, I knew what he wanted. He fell into the power top category, I could feel it. My look down was an automated response showing submissiveness. I looked up at him and his gaze continued. He lifted his beer slightly and gave a quick nod. I acknowledged him doing the same. His massive arm flexed as he took a pull from the bottle, his eyes never leaving me. My stomach flip-flopped and my mouth dried up. My heartbeat raced. This guy was going to do some damage to me tonight, I knew it.
We played cat and mouse for a while. Casually walking past each other, checking out the other. We did this a few times as if we were both making sure that goods met our standards. They did. His jeans were skin-tight showing off thick powerful quads, a hot muscular ass. His combat boots finished off the look. This guy was a stud. Then, my heart stopped a beat because on his left hand was a golden wedding band. My ass twitched.
After getting my eye full for the third time, I went to the bar for another drink. When I returned, he was gone. What the fuck? I looked all over that bar; upstairs, downstairs, bathrooms, pool tables, dart boards, everywhere. Finally, I approached the door man and asked if he had seen a gorgeous marine leave the building. He said he had. I was pissed. Pissed beyond belief. That fucking closeted motherfucker. I was sure he was going to pounce. What the fuck was his problem? Was I not good enough? Was I not hot enough? No. That wasn’t it. Couldn’t have been.
Pissed off, I made my way back to my buddy and told him what happened. I decided to go home and beat off thinking of what could have been.
I stood at the corner waiting for the stoplight to change so I could cross. It was a warm night. I stood waiting, seething and that’s when I felt a presence behind me. Then warm breath and a low baritone whisper.
“I’ve got a huge cock. You have a hot ass. I want to nut inside you. I know you want it. Let’s go,” he growled as he took hold of my elbow. Apparently, I was going to go with him no matter what.
I stood silent. My heart was thumping hard. I slowly turned to face this mountain of muscle. I looked down at his hand on my arm. I looked back up to him with defiance. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking loved it, but I was a little taken aback by his brazenness. I find tops like it when a potential fuck shows a little defiant hesitation. It makes them feel like they have more power than they already do. This is what I wanted, what I needed. He knew it. He read me like a fucking book. He was fucking bold, forward, no holds barred, and I fucking loved it.
I stood up straight, toe to toe, nose to nose. I didn’t want him to think I was some gay muscle slut who was going to be told what to do, even though I totally was. We stared each other down, his blue eyes were iridescent and hypnotizing. He didn’t smile, neither did I. He needed to know if I went, I was going to be aggressive, rough and wanted the fuck of my life. It was a privilege to nail me.
I calmly said, “Huh, ANOTHER marine. Hope you’re better than the last one,” I taunted, knowing that would make him more aggressive.
I tried to walk calmly to my truck, but I was really fucking horny. My hands were shaking as I turned the ignition. I pulled out of the lot where an SUV rental car was waiting. I followed it to a hotel downtown, my dick hard as a rock in my tight jeans. I have a big dick, so it was a little painful to have an eight-incher trying to bust its way out of my zipper. It was a good pain though.
We parked and I followed him in past the reception desk that was staffed with a cute frat boy type. He smiled at the marine and the marine nodded back. No doubt frat boy was aware of what was happening. I wouldn’t be surprised if Marine nailed him earlier in the day. Or the boy at least told him the best place to go to pick up a hot one-nighter.
The elevator ride was silent. He stood facing the doors, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet in a wide stance, his face stone cold. I didn’t say anything either. I knew what this was. I knew this was a married, closeted marine that took leave to another city so he could fuck dudes all weekend long. I’ve been in this scenario many times.
He unlocked the room and I followed him in. When the door closed, he turned quickly and slammed me against the door. His mouth came at me at breakneck speed. He devoured my mouth as he continued to push his hard body into me like he was trying to press me through the door. My head hurt from the impact, but the pain was forgotten when his tongue forced its way down my throat.
He took me by the shoulders, spun me around and tossed me on the bed like I was a rag doll. He pounced hard, straddling me, taking my wrists and holding them above my head against the headboard. Again, he attacked my mouth. He was strong. I tried to fight back, to make myself look like I wasn’t a complete whore, but he was way stronger. He held me down, kissing me, humping me. I could feel his thick, hard cock pressing against by abdomen. He growled and snarled as he turned into a hungry animal who had just caught his prey.
He suddenly flipped me over on my stomach and rutted his cock against my ass. His simulated sex thrusts told me what I was in for. He kissed my neck and ran his fingers through my hair and then down to my shoulders, kneading the muscles. Before I knew it, he grabbed my right arm and maneuvered it behind my back and inflicted a tiny bit of pain. I knew he could probably break it in two if he wanted. I winced and yelped in pain.
Once again, the warm breath on my ear. “You cleaned out?”
I lay with my right cheek smashed on the pillow. I hadn’t exactly counted on that. I could tell he wanted a nice clean kill. Gay sex can be a bit…messy if not prepared. Unfortunately, I was not. I told him I wasn’t. He let go of my arm, climbed off and pulled me up off the bed. He pulled me into the bathroom. He reached for the showerhead, un-screwed it and screwed on a douche attachment. Damn, this was obviously not his first rodeo. It was awkward but then, if you saw this guy, you would rip off your skin if he told you to.
“Clean yourself out. I don’t want shit on my dick,” he said as he walked out and shut the door.
Ten minutes later, I appeared from the bathroom freshly showered and clean. Marine was laying on the bed, naked, under a sheet that came up to his waist. He had his arms folded behind his head like he had been waiting for hours. His biceps were flexed, his pecs were pumped, his abs were carved like stone. His dick was hard and tented the sheet.
He looked me up and down and nodded his approval.
“Suck me,” was all he said as he nodded to the white sheet covering his cock.
I didn’t have to be told twice. I scrambled on to the bed, pulled back the sheet and went down on the fattest, thickest cock I’d seen in a while. It was perfect; eight inches, thick like a Red Bull can and a nice fat head. I went to town on that thing. His fingers found my hair, he took a handful and pushed my head down hard. He would pull my hair after a while, yanking my slobbering face back before forcing it back down again. I opened my throat and swallowed him; my nose buried in his short pubes. He growled again and started to fuck my face, pushing down and yanking up faster and faster. My eye filled with tears as I gagged. I tried to push up and away as a struggled to breathe but he just pushed me down harder. My gagging became worse and my muffled cries grew louder until he lifted my head off his cock, he turned my head to face him. He smiled a fucking scary devious grin.
“Nut number one,” he said with a sexy gravelly voice as he pulled my hair and pushed me down on to his cock again. He held me there and I felt his ass and hips leave the mattress. He arched his back and howled as he shot a huge sticky load down my throat. His body jerked and spasmed as he bred my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could, trying to get as much of his DNA into my gut. I craved his alpha essence inside me. It would fuel me for days. I thought of it coursing through my veins, making me harder, tougher, more aggressive. I would take on his traits as his cum manipulated my body, forming new muscle that was dense and cut.
I sat up wiping residual cum from my lips. He sat there, out of breath, that same fucking, cocky grin on his handsome face.
“Fucking great cocksucker,” he said with an exhausted sigh.
“Fucking great cock,” I said back.
“Come here,” he summoned me with his index finger, his voice low and sexy as hell. I leaned forward and he took me by the neck and pulled me in for a long slow kiss. I’m a big guy but he showed little effort as he pulled me in closer, twisted me so I was almost in his lap. He cradled me like a baby, one big hand on my ass. While his tongue was snaking its way into my throat, his finger found my hole. He rubbed it and slowly wiggled his way in. I caught my breath as his fat digit sunk into my hole. My muscles tensed; my ass flexed as he began to finger fuck my meaty ass.
I was panting, moaning as he added another finger and finger banged my hole like I was a two-bit whore. He squeezed my ass with one hand, the other between my legs fingering me. His skin was tan, smooth and warm. The muscles in his neck flexed and his biceps bulged. This man was on a mission and he was claiming his territory.
I threw my head back, “Fuck!” I yelled out in ecstasy.
He bit his bottom lip as he fingered me harder. His eyes boring into mine. I could tell he really liked to be connected during his man fucking. He looked at me like he’d known me a long time, like I was one of his buddies, fighting side by side in the desert. Maybe I reminded him of this man.
“Fuck,” he whispered loudly. “Tight pussy.”
I caught my breath again and smiled. He smiled back. He knew I liked that. I realized at that moment that I was a holy grail for him. I was a big, built, masculine stud that he could fuck like I was some hooker he paid after a drunken night with his buddies.
I looked at him, stone faced, our eye contact intense. He jabbed his fingers in hard and stopped. He curled his finger, rubbing my button. I took in a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second before I opened them, put my forehead to his and said, “You want this pussy?”
This time he took a breath. I had him. He loved that kind of fuck talk. They were terms he could understand. I positioned myself so I was hovering over his cock. I reached behind, stroked it, aiming it up.
“It’s mine,” he replied with a scary, serious sneer.
“Then get it,” I growled as I slowly lowered myself down onto his cock.
“Fuck,” we both sighed at the same time as I sank to the root. My eyes shot open wide and my jaw dropped as the thick girth of his dick registered in my head. I raised myself with my powerful quads and then lowered myself again. He began to raise his ass, pushing up to meet me as I came crashing down. The fucking grew harder, faster and rougher until I was bouncing up and down. He put his hands on my pecs as they bounced with the rhythm. I gyrated my ass down onto that thick meat trying to get as much as possible inside me. This continued for what felt like an eternity until he howled again, pushed up into me and growled, “Nut number two.”
I still hadn’t cum, but I didn’t care. It was enough for me to see him get off by using me. I don’t think he cared anyway. It was about him, not me. It was about him getting his nut, not mine. This was his time to feed his desires that he kept hidden from his wife, probably a kid, his best friends. Who knows how many times he’d done this? How many lies did he have to tell his family so he could get away on his own so he could breed a guy like me? He needed to leave that life he was stuck with if only for a weekend. I was happy to be that distraction. Maybe, if I played my cards right, I could be that distraction every time he was in town.
I expelled his monster from my ass and lay down next to him, both of us panting, cum dripping from my hole. Fuck, I loved looking at this hulk, seeing his fucking alpha masculinity and knowing his cum was in my hole. I wanted more.
“How much time do you need to recover?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a hoarse sounding voice. All that yelling will do that to you.
“Alright. Next?” I asked with a cocky tone.
“Fuck, you’re a fucking machine. I like fags like you. Real man who can take a real man,” he said has he patted me on the chest. Ok, so now I know that he doesn’t think of himself as gay. That’s ok with me. Like I said, closeted ones are the hottest. Who knows what his malfunction is? I don’t care as long as I get to reap the rewards of his fucked up psychological issues.
“Yeah…a machine,” I said sarcastically.
“Why don’t you get on your back and raise that sexy ass up for me,” he ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” I saluted as I moved down and lay on my back. He appeared at the foot of the bed where he grabbed my hips and pulled me down until my ass was at the edge.
What a fucking god. He lifted my muscular calves onto his massive shoulders. He aimed his dick at my hole and sunk in. I fisted the bed sheets and let out a moan. I looked up at him and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. He backed out and then sank back in. His abs flexed with each slow thrust.
“Mmmm…tight pussy,” he said again. That made me smile.
He wasted no time jackhammering my butthole, bending me like a fucking pretzel when he wanted a kiss. My knees up near my ears before leaning back and holding my ankles out. He split me open, holding my legs out wide like a wishbone. Every muscle flexed in his torso as he held nothing back. All I could do was lay there gripping the sheets, biting my lip and crying. The more I loved it the more he did too. Every time I yelped or squealed, he grinned. He got off on that. He got off on making a dude like me squeal like a schoolgirl.
It was when he held my legs straight up in the air by my ankles that I knew I could fucking marry this man. The strength and stamina of this fucking amazing man, holding the legs of my two-hundred-ten-pound muscular body in the air above me was intoxicating. I wanted to cum, but I also wanted to wait until the end. I wanted to wait until the end of this fuck-fest because I will cum the hardest I ever had knowing I got him off so many times.
Then, like the last two times, he stiffened, pulled my legs up higher until my ass was not touching the bed, bellowed out, “Nut number three,” and ejected more batter into my oven.
His skin flushed, his teeth clenched, and his body flexed with each volley until he collapsed onto my chest, sweat dripping, chest heaving. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He leaned up and kissed me again. For a guy who doesn’t consider fucking other dudes up the ass as gay, he sure does like kissing dudes. Not that I’m complaining. But then who knew who he saw when he looked at me. For all I know, he was picturing his wife, or a girlfriend, or that best friend from high school who used to jerk him off behind the bleachers. Who knew? Who cares?
“How you doing, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? What? Ok, that’s weird. But it was then I noticed his southern drawl. Either he didn’t have it before, or he always had it, but it was buried. Like after you’ve been gone from home for a while, that accent disappears but comes back each time you visit. I guess fucking brings it back. Whatever it was, it was fucking charming as hell. A little southern charm, I guess. But I’m not used to a guy railing me and then calling me sweetheart.
“Uh…I’m holding up…dude,” I replied awkwardly, trying to remind him that he just fucked the shit out of a dude and not his “sweetheart.”
“Good. I am not through with you yet,” he promised as he gave me a gentle slap on my cheek.
Moments later I found myself leaning on the desk in front of a mirror as I watched the big chiseled marine pound me from behind. “Fuck, tight pussy,” he grinned again. Apparently, that was his go-to line? He stared at me in the mirror, his teeth clenched, sweat dripping from his forehead. I watch him. I watched him fuck me as if he had never fucked anyone before. He fucked like he was trying to prove something. He reached up and pulled my hair, yanking my head back. He pulled my hair like they were reigns of a horse. I was a horse to him, a stud, his steed that he had broken. No matter how much I could buck, he would stay on this horse for the whole eight-seconds.
He pushed my head down so I could see us in the mirror again. He slapped my ass hard.
“Look at that, sweetheart,” he panted.
I looked up at his reflection, my head jerking up and down. My biceps swollen as I struggled to keep myself upright.
“Look at you, getting your pussy pounded by a real man. Fucking faggot.” He extenuated each word with a thrust. Again, there was that word, faggot. I didn’t know if this was roleplay or some serious psycho bullshit where he stabs me after his last nut. Some self-hating gay bullshit.
“You like this, don’t you? You like being treated like this? Fucking pathetic,” he said through clenched teeth, a look of disgust on his face. I kept quiet. The talk was half pissing me off and half turning me on. “You came with me without a fucking fight. What kind of man willingly follows another man to a hotel room and lets him fuck his ass like a pussy?’
He wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled up. His chest to my back now. His mouth on my ear. “Tell me, when did you realize you were good for nothing but getting fucked by real men? Huh? Look at you, big stud, throwing your weight around, showing off that ass. Strutting around like your hot shit. Well, look at you now, muscleman.”
I looked up at him, my face flushed with anger. Who the fuck did he think he was? But then, he did have a point. I followed him without hesitation but then what red-blooded-American-man wouldn’t? We think with our dicks…and our asses.
“Tell me you like it,” he sneered.
I was silent but still taking his fuck. Let’s not be hasty.
“Say it!” he yelled with a slap to my ass. I winced.
“I like it,” I said quietly between pants.
“What, faggot?” he asked with another slap.
“I like it!” I yelled back.
“Are you a worthless piece of pussy?”
“Yes. I am,” I said back. I’ve never been talk to like this before but man, was it turning me on.
“Want me to cum in your pussy, faggot?”
“Yes, Sir. Cum inside me, again.”
“Look at your pathetic fucking face as I shove another load in your cunt.”
And for the fourth time that night, “Nut number four!”
He thrust so hard that my head hit the mirror. He came up on his toes as his body tensed up and flexed, injecting another hot load into my ass. He slowed to a stop, leaned over my back, his dick still inflated inside my hole.
“Nut four, sweetheart. You made this country boy very happy tonight. Tell you what, you have such a nice pussy, I’m going to fuck you every time I’m in town.” He pulled back and then slid back in. “Would you like that? Huh? Get my marine cock in your tight pussy. Remind you what it feels like to be a man’s pussy? It’s a fucking privilege, cocksucker.”
I turned my head and my lips brushed against his. “I would be honored.”
“Good boy. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you ain’t nutted yet. Normally, I could care less but I like you. You’re fucking fun. Big boy built to take a fuck. You’re fucking hot as shit too.” He slowly began another fuck rhythm. My eyes rolled back in my head from the constant grazing of my hot spot.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll be calling you up next time I’m in town. Hell, I may make a special trip just to fuck your amazing hole.” The more he talked the more aroused I became. “I got a buddy who may want to meet you.” He kissed my cheek. “We share,” he said before he bit my earlobe.
Oh my god, this man is a fucking god. “You’d like that. Let two hot marines use your pussy for a couple of days?” I was getting close.
Then the next thing he said sent me over the edge. His warm breath in my ear. His tongue gently licking my lobe. “I fucked you like I fuck my wife.”
BOOM! I exploded so hard that my cock hurt. I have never cum so hard, ever, never. I lost all muscle control and my legs gave out. He took my hips and held me up as cum continued to drain from my body.
He chuckled as he slowly backed up and sat slowly down on the bed with me still impaled on his cock. I sat on him; my legs stretched out as every muscle in my body froze. I thought I was going to cramp. I stroked my fucking cock until nothing else would come out. I relaxed as I sat back against his chest, exhausted. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight. He kissed my shoulder and whispered, “Nut number five.” Once again, I felt his cock pulse and warmth filled my already filled hole.
We settled back on the bed, laying there not saying anything for a long time.
“You tell anyone about this, I will kill you,” he told me. He was serious.
“Dude, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Who would I tell?”
“It doesn’t matter. This is not my first time here. I don’t need a bunch a fags comparing notes and then it gets back to me somehow. All you guys gossip like little bitches.”
“I’m not telling anyone. I don’t have a lot of gay friends anyway.”
“Yeah, I could tell you were different. You looked like a fish out of water.”
“Me? You should see how you look standing in a gay bar.”
“And that’s fine with me. It gets me more tail. All gay dudes want to bed down a straight guy.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s kind of my thing. I saw your wedding ring.”
“Ok. Here’s my number.” I wrote it down on hotel stationary.
“Do not call me, ever. Do not text me unless I text you first,” he commanded.
“Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. Can’t let the wife or whomever know you like to fuck dudes.”
“I’m not a fag,” he sneered.
“Didn’t say you were. Chill.”
“As long we are got that clear. Don’t fucking fall in love with me or some gay shit like that. It happens all the fucking time and then I have to kick the guy to the curb.”
“Oh, that’s a shame, what with your winning personality?” I quipped sarcastically.
“Fuck you. Play by my rules and no one gets hurt,” he warns as he wags his finger at me.
“Ok, ok. Geez,” I rolled my eyes. “But tell me one thing. You really have a buddy who might want to meet me?”
He smiled and then chuckled. “Yeah, I do. Be a good boy and I’ll invite him.”
“Damn, you are a whore for married dudes, aren’t you?”
“I can be a whore for different kinds of guys but married guys are the best.”
His cell phone beeped. He picked it up and read the text and then he laughed.
“Speak of the devil. It’s my buddy we just talked about.”
“He says your fucking hot.”
“What? How does he know who I am?”
“Probably from the video I sent him of me fucking you.”
“Damn straight I did. He needs to see the goods before he comes all the way here.
“Delete it!” I said as I went for his phone.
He pulled it away. “Whoa! Never grab another man’s phone. I’m not deleting it.”
“Come on, dude. Delete it! I don’t need that thing on the net.”
“Fuck! I’m not putting this on the net, fuckhead. Then people would see me too.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said timidly.
“But I will give you a taste of what could happen if I bring a friend,” he teased as he pulled up the text from his buddy. He tapped on a video that was texted to him. It was a video of a ridiculously hot marine slam-fucking the hell out of another hot guy. The poor guy was screaming as Marine’s buddy hammered away. The cocky marine flashed a hang-10 sign at the camera and sneered.
“Yep, that’s him. Doing some muscled up frat boy the same time I was fucking you.”
“Yeah, he’s a hot fucker.” He turned to me and held my chin while he pulled me in for a kiss. “It’s going to be so hot to watch him fuck you,” he whispered.
“Fuck, yeah,” I whispered back.
“Alright, stud. Hit the road. I have to get up to catch a flight.”
“Wow, aren’t you the charmer.”
“You ain’t my wife. Get out,” he said as he slapped my ass. “I’ll see you next month,” he smiled.
“Looking forward to it,” I said sarcastically, and I gathered my clothes and left.
gracieabrams
blakekathryn
