An alpha male gets taken down

Last week, I had crashed a corporate event and had deflowered two young, closeted realtors, back-to-back, so to speak. My mind-reading superpowers gave me a clear edge when it came to spotting and seducing closeted guys. It’s easier to win at chess when you can anticipate your opponent’s every move. But in addition to reading their minds, I felt like I was also starting to be able to control their minds a little, planting into their brains little seeds that I then nurtured throughout the conversation, until I eventually planted my real seeds in their boycunts.

Having popped two cherries in the span of an hour made me even more daring and I was feeling particularly ambitious tonight. I decided to try my luck in a dive bar during Monday night football and hunt for blue collar mancunt. I figured out over the years that the best time to show up is just before half-time. The long commercial breaks offer a window of opportunity to strike up a conversation and still have the entire second half to close the deal. Guys whose team is down in blow-out games are particularly vulnerable. In the city, you gotta know which bars are ‘Giants bars’ vs. ‘Jets bars’. And, depending on how the season is going, you go to the bars of whichever team sucks the most. But neither the Jets nor the Giants were playing tonight. The Falcons were hosting the Steelers.

I spotted him right away, alone in his booth. Fuck, he was hot! Early 30’s, my height and build, maybe even bigger: broad shoulders, cut jawline under his reddish blond beard. A car mechanic version of Ryan Reynolds. He was wearing a Steelers jersey and a Steelers hat. He even had a terrible towel on the table. He might as well have left it at home because his terrible towel wasn’t gonna be waving much tonight. His Steelers were already down two touchdowns at half time. But worse than just the scoreboard, they were having it handed out to them: the running game, the passing game, special teams, nothing was working. The stupid kicker had even missed a field goal! They were being fucked-up-the-ass. Hard! And if things went my way, he would soon find out what it feels like. Although, unlike his Steelers, I’d make sure he begged for it! The rhum-and-coke in his hand could never have been strong enough to wash down the taste of defeat, and plain embarrassment.

‘Things not going your way tonight?’ I asked.

‘Don’t even get me started!’ he responded.

‘Here for business?’ I asked.

I already knew the answer to my question. But you always have to start with small chit chat before you move to heavy lifting.

‘Yeah, I’m in town for a big construction job’ he answered.

‘Do you mind if I sit?’ I asked. ‘I couldn’t get off work early enough to catch the start of the game and now all the tables are taken’.

With mind-control, I’m not at the stage yet where I can ask a straight guy: ‘Can I fuck you doggy style on the pool table?’ and make him say yes against his own will. But I can try to nudge things my way on small innocuous questions like that one.

‘Have a seat!’ he responded.

‘Good Boy!’ I thought to myself.

‘I’m Brandon’ I said, reaching out to shake his hand.

‘Adam’ he responded, giving me a manly handshake, blue-collar style, firm and powerful.

By the looks of it, he was gonna be a hard nut to crack. The chances I would walk out of here empty-handed with my tail between my legs were pretty high. But I was up for the challenge. He had zero experience with another guy, not even a circle jerk as a teenager. I was gonna have to booze him up to bring down his barriers. I know it’s kind of cheating. But if you go after the big game, you gotta bring the big gun. Hopefully, his Steelers were going to suck just as bad in the second half and he would need some comfort drink. The only reason why I even bothered going after him was that I could sense he had at least given some thought as to what it might feel like to have a dick up his ass. Not that he ever did anything about it. But that’s what I was here for. At least, he stood somewhere on the spectrum, even if he was close to the wrong end. He was my big fish for the night, and I had two quarters to reel him in, inch-by-inch, until I could make him dangle at the end of my pole.

‘Thanks!’ I said, ‘Can I offer you a drink to pay for my seat?’

‘Sure’ he said, ‘Get me a…’

‘Hush don’t tell me’ I interrupted ‘Gin & Tonic?’

‘How did you guess?’ He asked.

‘You just look like a Gin & Tonic kind of guy’ I replied with a smile.

First down for me. Time to move the chains!

I walked to the counter and came back with his Gin & Tonic in one hand, and a Sam Adams for me in the other. On my way to the counter, I had discreetly undone the second button of my shirt to show off the darkest patch of my chest hair, the one in-between my pecs.

The equation I had to solve with him was pretty simple… on paper: 1 man + 1 man = more masculine than 1 man + 1 woman. Every additional ounce of masculinity helped. He was a guy’s guy and wanted nothing to do with his feminine side. For 30 years, he had been taught that taking a dick up the ass turned you into a woman. That’s the mindset I had to deconstruct, brick by brick. And I only had two quarters to do it! I had to project as much testosterone as possible and drive away any sign of femininity from the equation. But I had to project masculinity without making him feel like he was inferior. He still had to believe he was the alpha. I was walking a very fine line.

‘So, how long are you in town for?’ I asked.

‘I got here last Monday and I’m driving back on Friday’ he responded.

‘Wow! That’s a long time to be away’ I said, ‘I bet you can’t wait to rail your wife when you get home’.

‘I don’t have a wife’ he responded, ‘I had a girlfriend, but we broke up a month ago’.

I knew that. But I wanted to see how he would handle my question.

‘I’m sure a guy like you will have no problem finding a new girl’ I said.

‘Let’s hope so’ he concurred. ‘What about you? Are you married?’

‘Nope. I’ve actually never had a girlfriend’ I said boldly.

‘No way! How’s that even possible?’ he asked, looking me up and down in disbelief.

‘I’m into dudes’ I responded. ‘But don’t worry, you’re safe’.

‘Oh, really?’ he said, ‘I would never have guessed’, uncertain how to process that piece of information.

‘You look surprised’ I continued, taking a sip of my beer, and leaving some foam over my mustache.

He wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to say it. But he kind of mumbled: ‘You don’t look gay’.

‘Yeah, I get that a lot’ I responded, scratching my chest hair in a way that was probably a bit obvious, but hammering home that gayness and masculinity could get along.

‘You don’t look gay!?!?! What a douche bag thing to say!’ I made sure he thought to himself, putting him on the defensive, like he owed me one.

The players came back on the field, and we went back to watching the game. In-between the cheering and armchair quarterbacking after each play, I was sending him vibes: ‘Come on! Ask your questions. Everything you’ve ever wanted to know about gay sex, I can fill you in’.

But he was too guarded to ask. The chains weren’t moving fast enough. I was still miles away from scoring a touchdown and I wasn’t sure two quarters would be enough. I might have to settle for a field goal and go after his dick rather than his ass. But if I’m going to bottom, he’s exactly the kind of studs I’d be happy to spread my legs for.

The Steelers lost big: 38-6 when it was all said and done. Adam and I had hit it off during the game, but in a bro kind of way. On the sex front, I had made zero progress.

‘Let’s wash away your sorrow’ I offered. ‘Do you want to move to a different bar? The Best Western around the corner has a lounge that’s not too uptight’.

‘The Best Western is where I’m staying’ he said.

I knew that!

While we were walking to his hotel, he took a pack of Marlboro out of his pocket and lit a cigarette. He offered me one, but I turned him down.

‘We all have our vices’ I said.

‘What’s your vice?’ he asked.

‘I turn good boys into bad ones’ I responded with a grin on my face.

He didn’t respond to my comment but smiled. Even if doing anything sexual with another dude was not something he would ever have considered, I could sense he needed distraction from tonight’s crushing loss. I still had a (long) shot.

By moving from the dive bar to the hotel lounge, we went from Bon Jovi to Michael Bublé; a surrounding where I was a little bit more in my element and him out of his. I got him another Gin & Tonic and I got myself another beer. Luckily, it was hot in the lounge, and he took his Steelers jersey off. He was wearing a black T-shirt underneath that felt one size too small. His T-shirt was painted solid on his big chest; his hard nipples making a permanent imprint in the fabric; his meaty arms stretching the sleeves. Fuck he was hot!

‘Wow! Nice arms!’ I said, ‘I bet you can bench 250 lbs in your sleep’.

‘280 actually’ he said.

‘Oh, you got me beaten’ I responded. ‘I’m stuck at 230 lbs on a good day.

I was still walking the fine line of showing masculinity while still deferring to him, but without crossing the line toward submission, which I knew would turn him off. Trying to be the young alpha with him being the established alpha. I sensed his pride rise when he found out he had 50 lbs over me.

After he finished another Gin & Tonic, I looked him up in the eyes, gathered my strength and asked him point blank: ‘Am I getting anywhere with you? I know you’re not into dudes’ I continued ‘But you’re hot as fuck and I was hoping we’d be able to bring the show to your room. I just invested three hours in you. You gotta give me something, Man.’ I pleaded.

Before he could say anything, I continued: ‘I’m not gonna lie. I went after you thinking I would end up inside you. I’ve kind of given up on that. But you gotta meet me halfway’.

‘What do you mean, meet you halfway?’ He asked.

‘You gotta let me blow you’, I responded ‘It’ll be the best blow job you’ve ever had!’

‘No way! I’m not letting another guy anywhere close to my dick’ he said.

‘Those are the best’ I objected ‘No girl knows how to work a dick the way another guy does. Everybody knows that’.

While saying that, I gave an obvious stare at his bulge, making it clear I knew he was fighting a nascent boner. I could tell he was trying to cope with the tsunami of conflicting thoughts I had just sent his way. The guy was already tipsy, and his cognitive abilities were altered somewhat. I was fucking with his mind, still hoping I would eventually be fucking his hole. He hadn’t had sex for a month, and to my big surprise, he hadn’t opened the manual valve for five days either. That was a lot of cum that had been churning in his blue (collar) balls. I looked him up in the eyes and used my superpowers to send as many vibes as I could to convince him he wanted his dick sucked so badly.

‘You know you’re gonna have to jack off when you get to your room’ I said, pointing at the nascent party in his pants. ‘Why would you ever choose to jack off over the best blow job of your life?’

I could see the look of confusion in his eyes. The battle was full on between his dick saying yes and his brain saying no.

‘You gotta give me something, Man!’ I reiterated, sending all the vibes I could gather.

‘Just a blowjob?’ he asked.

‘Just a blowjob!’ I responded.

My 3-hour pursuit and trying to manipulate his mind had finally got me somewhere. I paid the check, and we made our way to the elevator. I made small talk in the elevator to keep him distracted and make sure he wouldn’t change his mind. I didn’t want a turnover so close to the goal line. He opened the door of his room; I pinned him against the wall and went down on my knees. I unbuckled his pants and they dropped to his ankles. He was wearing black briefs. Not boxer briefs. Real briefs. His bulge was inches from my eyes and my mouth. With my mouth, I started tracing his shaft through the fabric. His rod wasn’t fully hard yet, but definitely more rigid than a flaccid dick. I started fondling his balls with my right hand while grabbing his muscular ass with my left one. He had good size balls too. They felt bigger than mine.

While I was working his package, I was sending all the vibes I could to make him focus on the excitement itself and not on the fact it was another dude providing it. The waves I got back from him were telling me he was enjoying it, his stiffening cock confirming this. He knew damn well this was the best blow job he’d ever get, even if he knew it was wrong. I was winning him over.

He alternated small moans with some ‘Fuck yeah!’ words of encouragement.

‘Let’s take this show to your bed’ I said.

He made small wobbling steps as his pants were still down to his ankles. He sat on the bed, his shoes touching the floor. I was still on my knees on the carpet, back at working his pole through the fabric. My right hand was still playing with his balls while my left hand started caressing his abs underneath his T-shirt. His abs were sculpted and harder than steel, covered by what felt like a fair amount of hair. Fuck, he was so masculine!

His dick was getting bigger under my touch, stretching the fabric of his tight briefs, fighting hard to escape its cotton prison.

‘Let’s free this puppy up!’ I stated.

I lowered his briefs and his hard dick sprung out, smashing his hard abs.

‘Wow! Nice cock!’ is all I could come up with. His cock wasn’t as big as mine. But it was still above average, certainly in length.

I lowered his briefs down to his pants that were still at his ankles. He took his T-shirt off, revealing a manly hairy body. He was hairier than me. His treasure trail wasn’t just a treasure trail. His entire lower stomach was covered in fur, all the way to his navel. He had a patch of hair going up from his navel, forming a line all the way to his chest, right in the crevice of his 6-pack. His chest was hairy from one arm pit to the other. He was a beast of a man, no trimming toning down his manly attributes. But because his hair was light brown, almost reddish blond, it looked a lot less unkept than if I allowed my dark hair to grow freely like that. Fuck, he was hot! I had to bring my hand to my own crotch for a second, repositioning my cock to give it room to grow inside my boxer briefs.

I took his cock in my mouth. It was warm. It was hard. It tasted like a man. Several hours’ worth of sweat build-up at the bar made the musk of his pubes raw and powerful. It filled up my nostrils with blue-collar scent. In addition to the sweat, there was also a bit of dry piss on the tip of his dick that I licked with hunger.

I worked his pole hard, clamping my lips around his hardness. He wasn’t used to such an aggressive attack on his cock. His ex-girlfriend probably took his manhood reluctantly, like you put a thermometer in your mouth, counting to 60 until you can finally take it out. But I wasn’t counting. I wanted this to last. I wanted to feel his cock throbbing under the brute force of my lips attacking his rod.

I liked his shaft in my mouth. I obviously liked the length of it. But I liked the raw power it exulted. I liked the scent of a hard-working male, his manly musk not covered by the citrussy scent of the designer hair products white collar men use.

After working his pole for a while, I moved further down and put his balls in my mouth, sucking on one and then moving to the other. He let out a groan of pleasure when I did that. His balls were clearly not used to getting that level of attention from his girlfriends.

So many conflicting thoughts were going through his mind. Another dude blowing him was smashing all the walls he had built over the last 30 years. But at the same time, it was the best blow job he ever had. The sensations of my tongue swirling around his dickhead, working his pole because I was craving for dick, and not just because I was doing him a favor, was unchartered territory for him. And the guy who was sucking his dick was not some kind of sissy, effeminate dude. It was a man’s man, just as masculine as him, but comfortable with getting on his knees in front of another dude, not because he was forced to, but because he wanted to. But any attempt from him to come up with coherent thoughts was dwarfed by the unbelievable sensations of my tight lips swallowing his shaft.

I could feel his blue-collar juice churning inside his big balls. His moaning was turning into panting, and he put his hands on my head to guide the movement of my lips on his shaft as he was getting ready to flood my mouth with his seeds. I got him almost over the edge and abruptly removed my mouth from his shaft, depriving him of his reward.

‘What the fuck?’ he said, ‘I was about to blow!’

‘I know’ I replied, ‘but I don’t want you to cum just yet.’

‘Don’t worry’ I continued ‘You’ll thank me for it later.’

‘Get up!’ I said.

He was now standing there naked, with his pants and briefs still at his ankles while I was still fully clothed.

‘Let’s get you more comfortable’ I said, ‘Let’s get these off of you’.

While he untied his shoelaces and stepped out of his pants, I started stripping down. I first took my shirt off, exposing my hairy torso. I then unbuckled my pants and dropped my pants and boxer briefs all at once. We were now standing inches from each other, eyes facing eyes, chest facing chest, dick facing dick. His chest was hairier than mine, but my chest hair was darker than his. My 6’3” slightly taller than his 6’2”. Our two dicks were roughly the same length. But mine was thicker. However, his had the nice mushroom head I sometimes wished I had. It was a full-on alpha standoff, with him bettering me in some respects, and me bettering him in others.

I wasn’t going to kiss him, unless he made the first move. Instead, I brought my left cheek to his left check, grinding our stubble against each other. It reminded me of Eskimos rubbing their noses to say hi. Even though my face against his might have been too intimate for his liking, our two beards rubbing against each other felt manly as fuck. His beard was longer than my stubble and the hairs of his beard seemed straighter and coarser than mine, if that makes any sense. His beard set my skin on fire, scratching it like sandpaper, my 7-day stubble unable to provide enough protection against the attack. I had to pull out first.

‘You won that one!’ I said, like a wrestler who got forced to submission, but still gave it a good fight.

I wandered my hands through his chest hair and looked him up in the eyes, saying: ‘You won that one too’.

We looked at each other and I could see the look of victory in his eyes. The whole evening was a series of mind battles, and I had to lose some battles along the way, if it meant I could win the war in the end. I had to bolster his male confidence at all times, making him feel that nothing we were doing was ‘gay’.

I got down on my knees and put his cock back in my mouth, looking up at him from underneath. His cock was leaking precum, following the near-orgasm I had brought him to, and I first had to lick it clean. Even though no words were being exchanged, the dialog in our battle of minds was un-fucking-believable. I was reading his mind like an open book. Meanwhile, I was feeding him select thoughts, each of them fueling his fire.

Then came the make-or-break moment if I wanted to break my earlier promise and go beyond the blow job I told him I would settle for. His aching cock had just been denied its release and was begging for attention. I put him on the bed and straddled him, his hard dick now teasing my ass crack. This was the moment of truth where he could either cross the forbidden line or let my 3-hour-long chase go down in flame.

I looked him up in the eyes, sending all the vibes my mind could muster: ‘You know you want to try. You know you want to find out what it feels like.’

My hard dick was standing up, straighter than a phone pole, right in front of his eyes. He could tell my dick was thicker than his. But interestingly, that gave him even more motivation to take me down. That’s all I needed to know.

‘Close your eyes’ I said.

He obliged. I took a small bottle of lube out of my pants’ pockets and lubed his tool and my chute.

I had tried bottoming in college, just to see what it felt like. But I never got into it. I certainly never felt the ecstasy that a real bottom feels when I fill his cunt and hammer his G-spot with my thick rod. And it had been more than 3 years since I last bottomed. My ring was going to be tight. The entry was going to be painful. Thank God he wasn’t too thick. But his mushroom head was certainly going to be a challenge for my rusty ring, especially since I’d have to lower myself quickly, before he changed his mind. I had no room for hesitation.

I lined up my hole above his dickhead and lowered my body on his pole. His big mushroom head ravaging my sensitive ring was pure torture, but I pushed through. I had to. He opened his eyes and realized the tip of his dick was now inside me. He was engaged in man-on-man sex in its most extreme form. I lowered myself even more fighting the excruciating pain, until I bottomed out and felt his pubes against my ass.

‘Fuck, you’ve got a big cock’ I said while making faces that probably weren’t pretty. ‘Give me some time to adjust’ I asked.

Although I felt like a blow torch was blazing through my hole, I was trying to play it cool, acting almost nonchalant. But deep inside, I was chalant as fuck. Of course, I was fighting the agonizing pain of his cock stretching my hole beyond its limits. But I was also wrestling with the thought that me, the alpha, was being used by another guy, fully willingly.

He didn’t say a word, his mind alternating between the awkwardness of engaging in anal sex with another dude, but the amazing sensation of the tightest hole to ever encircle his tool. While I allowed my ring to adjust to his manhood, I rubbed my hands in his chest hair, partially because I wanted it, and partially because I wanted to remind him that he was still a man, a real one.

I started raising and lowering my body on his pole. The range couldn’t have been more than an inch at first. My inner skin was on fire, my ring stretched beyond its natural dimensions. I could feel his cock throbbing inside me, each pulse sending an electric shock through my whole body and making my own cock throb. I was grateful Adam was laying still, but I could sense he would want to get in on the action any moment.

The pain finally started to get more bearable, and I increased the range of my motion up and down his pole. Meanwhile, Adam started lifting his hips ever so slightly. I didn’t stop him. Little by little, we both started rocking in unison, Adam forcing his cock up my tunnel while I was on the descent. My sausage, which never lost it hardon, started bouncing between my legs, banging his steel abs on the way down and hitting my abs on the way up.

I was starting to enjoy myself more. It was a combination of physical and mental stimulation. Of course, Adam’s cock banging my G-spot felt amazing. But the thought of a bigger alpha putting me back in my place was a surprising turn-on. Reading the conflicting thoughts inside Adam’s mind provided additional encouragement. He was finally over the hump with the reality he was plowing another dude. He was now enjoying the simulation of my tight ring clamping down on his cock and feeling the pride of the pleasuring his cock was providing to me.

I was moaning a little, both because I enjoyed the fucking and because I wanted to give Adam some encouragement. Any breakup shatters your confidence. As a guy, your dick is the tool you use to provide your partners the pleasure they could never achieve on their own. When you’re the one being dumped, you can’t escape the thought that the breakup had something to do with your underwhelming sexual prowess and that, if sex had truly been out of this world, your ex would have come back for more, no matter what else was happening in your relationship. Is it the size of your dick? Is it how you’re using it? Is it your lack of experience? Is it your inability to read of the other’s sensations? Adam had been dumped a month ago and had not had sex since his breakup. Stuffing his hard cock in my cunt was his opportunity to prove himself and prove the world that he was a stud indeed, that he was great at pleasuring another girl (or guy in my case) and his breakup had nothing to do with lackluster sex skills.

Although I can read other people’s minds, up to a point, I can’t always anticipate what their mind is going to do next. While trying to give Adam the green light to go a little bit rougher on me, I said those very words: ‘Fuck me hard, dude! Do to me what you would do to the Falcons’ quarterback.’

‘Oh yeah?’ he responded.

And just like that, he lifted me off his cock, flipped me on my back, spread my legs wide, and shoved his hard dick back into my cunt in one thrust, missionary style. I gasped under the brute force of this unexpected assault. And he started boning me. Hard! Mechanically! Relentlessly! He held my ankles with his massive biceps, and pressed my knees against my chest, folding me in half. His biceps were bulging as he was forcing my legs to spread wider. His eyes were lit with a look of determination. There couldn’t have been a more submissive position than me folded in half, my hairy hole exposed and him burying the full length of his meat, destroying my entry gate with his full control. All the pent-up frustration of the humiliating defeat his Steelers had received tonight were fueling his revenge.

Even though there is nothing twinky about me, twinky is what I felt like being plowed by this muscular Viking warrior. My legs had to be stronger than his arms, but the position he had me folded in half, the whole weight of his body pressing my legs down, meant I couldn’t push back, even if I wanted to. I surrendered to the superiority of his blue-collar muscles, used every day to do real work, versus my white-collar muscles, artificially sculpted at the gym, only to show off in the locker room. I was the proxy Falcons’ quarterback receiving the punishment he deserved. But I was also the East Coast lawyer being roughed up by a construction worker. His lower stomach was banging against my helpless balls with every thrust. My dick was throbbing on its own, and my piss slit was leaking a continuous flow of precum on my treasure trail, pooling in my belly button.

I’m sure when I fuck other dudes, my precum is leaking inside their tunnel. Ever since I reached puberty, I’ve always produced ample volumes of precum. It’s just that it’s invisible when my dickhead is buried deep inside a boycunt. Normally, it’s precum leaking out of the other guy’s dick that I’m used to seeing. And I always feel like it’s my cock’s assault that’s pumping the precum out of his dick. Watching my own precum leaking out of my dick that I wasn’t even touching, leaking just from the pounding of this muscular stud assaulting my hole was a new experience for me, a humbling one too. Adam had turned my hole into a cunt. A fucking cunt! I was still 6’3”, still muscular, still had a thick dark beard and ample chest hair. And I still had a rock-solid 7-inch cock waving between my legs. But he made me a cunt, nonetheless. And I loved it. Wow! The table had turned!

Adam had a look of hunger, a look of determination, a look of raw power. He wasn’t a talker, but I could hear him cheering himself up in his mind. Things like: ‘You like that?’ To which I would answer in my head things like: ‘Oh, your dick feels so good’ as if we were having a real dialog.

I was trying to fuel his pulsion. I could tell he was turned on by a masculine guy, taller than him, more hung than him, almost equally hairy, almost equally muscular, folded in half, submitting to him, forced to accept his length, powerless to fight back. And I was letting him know how great his weapon felt in my hole, begging to feel more of his length inside me.

Although I was measured with what I said out loud, I was a lot more forthcoming with the vibes I sent into his brain. I transmitted subliminal messages like: ‘Oh yeah, spread my legs further! Show me who’s the alpha!’, complimenting him on the hardness of his dick, on his muscles, on his manliness, on how great his plowing made me feel, how my body couldn’t help but contort under his assault.

‘Oh yeah, right there!’ I cried out loud when he found my G-spot again.

My dick was begging for attention, but I couldn’t reach it, with him spreading my legs wide, pressing my ankles down, leaving almost no space in-between our two stomachs. I kept just enough space between his torso and mine so that my balls wouldn’t get crushed by his granite 6-pack. I had to fight back the churning in my balls as I wanted the two of us to cum at the exact same time, but his banging alone was enough to drive me close to the edge.

I turned my head to the side, and I realized there were mirrors on the sliding closet doors, right next to the bed. How did I not notice the mirrors until just now? I guess I was so focused on Adam, trying to please him, making sure he wouldn’t have second thought about having man-on-man sex for the first time, that I never turned to look to the side. But the mirror was right there. And what did I see in the mirror? Me. Me being fucked. Me on my back, folded in half. Me with my knees on my chest. And Adam. Adam on top of me. Adam stuffing his cock in my ass. And my body bouncing on the bed, powerless under the assault of this stud. Me getting a taste of my own medicine.

I felt humiliated. Is there anything more humiliating than a dominant top being used by an ever more dominant top and taking a dick powerlessly? It’s funny, because I had never felt sorry for the many guys I fucked the same way I was feeling sorry for myself at that very moment. I always felt I was doing my bottoms a favor by giving them the orgasmic release they were craving for. But with me being the bottom, things felt different. And I was wondering if the most humiliating thing was the fact I was being folded in half or the fact I was enjoying it and wouldn’t want it any other way. I fucking loved it. I loved Adam’s hard cock filling my cunt. I loved his girth stretching my ring while I was clamping down on his rod. I loved his dickhead hitting my magic buzzer with every thrust. I loved the connection we had. I loved watching the determination in his eyes with every push of his cock inside me. And I loved that I was giving Adam pleasure. I had always thought it was the top’s joystick that was pleasuring the bottom and the top pleasuring himself by rubbing his own joystick on the bottom’s inner walls. The fact the bottom could also provide pleasure to the top never really crossed my mind. And right now, the bottom was me, and I was pleasuring Adam like he hadn’t been pleasured in a month, maybe ever.

I felt proud and ashamed at the same time, if that makes any sense. Proud that I had managed to reel in the biggest fish I had ever gone after, but ashamed that he had turned me into a submissive bottom, and I was loving it. Maybe I gave up on bottoming too soon when I was in college.

Just like boys don’t cry, alphas don’t show any weakness. In the odd times they get cunted out, it only happens because they’re willing. And they take it like a man. No begging for mercy, no whimpering. And taking it like a man is what I was going to do.

I had to stop my mind from wandering and get back to sending signals to Adam’s mind. I kept sending in waves into his brain:

‘Yeah! Knock me up, you stud!’

‘Claim me! Brand me like fucking cattle! Make me yours!’

‘Show me who the real man is!’

I felt he was getting close. His face became more determined as he was entering the final stretch. My biggest power trip has always been watching the face of the guys I bang when my thick cock destroys their tight little cunt. But watching the face of the guy railing me as he was about to explode inside my guts was close second. Adam started making faces, losing control of his face muscles as he was lost in his own pleasure. His pounding became more erratic, but even more powerful and more determined than before. Sweat was dripping along his face, droplets falling from the tip of his nose and onto my chest hair. I could tell he was about to blow.

I reached for my dick and started jerking it with my right hand, pressing against his hairy chest with my left hand, pretending I was trying to contain his assault, in vain. When I sensed he was getting over the edge, I clamped down on his cock, squeezing whatever was left of my battered ring muscle, and started grunting loudly. Although I didn’t quite cum handsfree, Adam’s banging had kept me on the edge the whole time and my dick, which had received zero attention until now, only needed a dozen strokes or so to lose control. I had remained somewhat subdued during the build-up, but I turned the volume up as I was about to explode:

‘Dude, I can’t hold it anymore. You’re gonna make me blow! You’re gonna make me blooaaarrrggghhh!’

And as my eyes rolled into my fucking skull, a missile shot out of my cock, a big glob of white cream that flew right over my head and crashed into the headboard behind me. The following ones landed all over the fucking place: on my forehead, in my beard, in my nostrils, on my neck, and on my hairy chest.

Although he still wasn’t a talker, Adam let out a loud guttural grunt at the same time I felt his cock expand inside me and his hot seed started coating the inner walls of my guts, five days’ worth of blue-collar juice flooding my bowels. I don’t know how much milk this guy could produce, but he shot at least ten ropes, maybe even fifteen. So much so that I thought his spunk would be gushing out of my mouth on the other end. When he pulled his still hard cock out, creamy white spunk started dripping out of my hole and onto the bed cover. My ring had been pummeled so much that I could no longer seal it shut.

Adam looked at my hairy chest, coated with my white spunk, and he smiled. I smiled back and reached out to kiss him, hoping he would present his lips. And he did. No tongue was involved. Just a little thank-you kiss, which felt so romantic after our bestial encounter. And we both lay on our back next to each other, both panting heavily and trying to catch our breath. Both of us dealing with our own set of emotions.

Adam had a lot to process. He had just had sex with a guy. Him, the straight construction worker, the alpha male, the man’s man, had just propelled his seeds in another guy’s chute. Sure, he was a bit tipsy, but that couldn’t explain it all. He had slowly drifted toward the dark side and eventually crossed the forbidden line. And there was no denying that the initial blow job had been the best blow job of his life. And there was not denying that he discharged what felt like a pint of jizz inside me.

Even though this was not my first rodeo with a guy, not even my first-time bottoming, I still had a lot to process as well. By going after this straight blue-collar worker, I bit more than I could chew. And I’m the one who ended up getting chewed up. Big time! My initial plan had been to stuff my 7-incher up his hairy hole. But it’s my hairy hole that ended up getting stuffed. But him pounding my ass was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Dare I say: rewarding? I had bottomed before, but it had always been an underwhelming experience, until tonight. I had never felt an orgasm spurting out of my ass the way I just did with Adam. I barely touched my cock, and I started shooting bullets like a machine gun.

When bottoming in the past, it had always been with douche bags who were only in it for themselves. They used me as a cum dump and treated me as such. And they focused on their own pleasure, not worrying about mine. Don’t get me wrong, Adam was focused on getting his rocks off too. Aren’t we all? But making sure I savored his cunting was also part of his goal. And he succeeded. I enjoyed getting fucked way more than I thought I would. Did that make me a bottom? Was I no longer the alpha male I always considered myself to be?

I was dealing with a bittersweet sensation. His weapon of mass destruction got the job done. It destroyed my hole. It destroyed my pride. It destroyed my certainties. It destroyed my status as a true alpha. I’d have a lot of soul searching to do down the road on what bottoming (and enjoying it too) meant for my persona.

But I was also proud of what my mind-control powers had achieved. Tonight, I had made a straight construction worker do something he never thought he would do. My powers were getting stronger. They opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the future.

We exchanged numbers, in case Adam ever felt lonely the next time he came back to New York. And I walked back to my apartment a couple of blocks down the road, with a sore ass and a funny walk. And after a long hot shower, washing away Adam’s babies, I slept like a baby.