MY Straight Encounter
“Shit, you’ve got a big dick,” I smiled gleefully, a boy enjoying his favorite ride, stroking my cock as the hot, hung, straight guy railed my ass from behind. He’d never fucked a guy before. But as they say, there’s a first time for everything.
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 am not going to stick my dick in you.” “Your loss, bro,” I began to say as he turned and left, muttering something about dirty ******s 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 going to 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.”
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 am not going to stick my dick in you.” “Your loss, bro,” I began to say as he turned and left, muttering something about dirty ******s 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 going to 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.”
2 ay önce
