#antmien

The guy with the colored hair, or the 'main character' as he jokingly referred to himself, stood outside in the middle of a warm summer night. He licked his lips and tasted salt.

For Damien Haas was at sea, taking the ferry from Calais to Dover, a classic ferry way he'd often been on with his parents on holidays in Europe nearly evey year of his long gone youth. The sea beckoned, its friendly waves gushed up and down.

Taking the nightly ferry was a lot cheaper than the day one, but that wasn't the reason Damien picked it. It was comforting to be alone with the night, alone with the water.

Of course he wasn't actually alone. The other passengers half-slept inside, or were having a midnight snack. But nobody was outside. Or so Damien thought.

He closed his eyes and daydreamed, a weird thing to do at night. He saw himself stand inside of a dark cave, hooded and solemn. A sage of old. He enjoyed fantasizing about himself having magical adventures and powers.

He was so busy fantasizing, that he didn't notice the presence behind him. Someone who inched closer and closer to him. Only when the person was very close, did he stiffen. For some reason, the thought of turning around didn’t feel right. He wanted to know who stood behind him, but not really? He felt incredibly turned on.

Damien wore traveling clothes: a pair of sweatpants and a grey Gundam T-shirt. His chest heaved up and down a little faster, as he now felt a warmth behind him. And finally, someone's body brushed against his back. All of his hair stood on end. He didn't mean to, but a small gasp escaped his salty pink lips.

Two warm hands, feminine yet masculine, small but strong, wrapped themselves around Damien's waist. It felt like they lifted him out of his body. It felt like he was on fire. He was lucky nobody could see the tent in his baggy pants.

"Oh God..." It finally happened. After a lifetime of fantasizing about it, Damien finally got touched in the exact right way. It was like a dream. How he'd always hoped that someone would hold him in the cove of his waist. It worked on him like an off-switch. Whoever was touching him right now, they could do with him whatever they wanted, could have their wicked way with him.

A pelvis pressed against Damien's round behind, and he backed into the bulge. "Is this really happening?" He whispered into the sea breeze. Slow, slow dry humps against his butt drove him nearly insane, those hot hands still in place. He whined with anticipation. Then one hand briefly left its place and Damien snapped out of it for a second. What was this hand doing? He felt his sweatpants being pulled down, his pants too. He was exposed. The hand spread his butt masterfully, and a hot, wet cock pressed against his asshole.

Damien was anxious about what would happen next, but all his worries immediately disappeared when the hand returned to his waist. "Yes, please..." He begged to be fucked. The cock still pressed against his hole, a bit firmer now but still not entering.

Damien could see the shore. This needed to happen quickly. "Please, please come inside? Please fuck me, I really want you to ravage me, be rough with me, so rough.." His words seemed to work because the cock thrusted into him. The feeling was like he just sat down in the car of a roller coaster, the seat belts came down and he could now not return anymore. He would have to wait it out, let the ride take him where it may.

There was an unknown cock inside Damien. It was now thrusting at a slow pace. The Dover shore was really coming into view. "Please, I'm begging you, go faster! I want you to come, to cum inside me!" The cock accelerated and the hands gripped him tighter. In and out, in and out, harder and rougher now. It hurt and the pain turned Damien on even more. "Harder, please harder, rough me up.."

Hot semen streamed into his body, streaming out of his asshole now, past the cock who still sat inside of him, throbbing and twitching. The person behind him was panting. Damien stole a look down. He started - "wha..." the hands quickly let go and footsteps disappeared into the night. Damien stayed in his spot.

He had just seen the hands. They were heavily tattooed.. he only knew one person who had tattoos like that. "Anthony?" Damien did not turn around until the voice broadcasted all around the ferry informed everyone they should get their things and exit to Dover. He slowly walked inside, went to the floor where his car stood and walked up to it.