Chris wasn’t lying about being his. Over the next month I saw him a few times a week. Often on short notice, little more than a text warning. A “u up?” followed by instructions. Sometimes I was to wait on all fours, sometimes on my knees. A few times he asked me to meet him at a local park when he could say he was going for a “nighttime stroll.” These encounters were quick, 20 minutes tops—clearly designed for him to get his nut on the sly, likely after his boyfriend had turned him down for sex.
The boyfriend did move in and by the time I saw him around the neighborhood, I could recognize him thanks to the deep dive stalking I underwent on Instagram. His name was Kent, and he DID look a lot like I did, same height, just a thinner, paler version. He had muscles but was way more lean, and a shaggy mop of brown hair. He was expectedly well-dressed, and seemed to wear his money wherever he went.
One time, Christopher came over in a rush. It was late at night and he had me wait for him on the edge of my bed on my back, legs pulled back to my chest, hole winking at the door. He stomped in looking annoyed, quickly shed his clothes as he walked down the hall and paused to admire me once he had reached my body fully naked.
“Fuck, I need this pussy,” he groaned. Spitting on his hand, rubbing his dick and leaning forward to shove it in me to the base in one stroke. I felt pain at the sudden intrusion with no warning but he put one hand over my mouth and the other on my throat to mask my shout.
“Kent is being a stingy bitch. He says he’s tired and needs to rest for a job interview he has tomorrow. Said he had a headache and needed to sleep. So I told him I was gonna go to the pharmacy and pick up something over the counter in case he wakes up in the middle of the night. I’m such a good boyfriend.”
He told me this conversationally, his deep voice traveling despite using a soft voice, as he continued to stroke into me.
“Thank God there’s a bodega open late next to my pathetic, slutty side pussy. He will just assume I’m there even if he checks my location.”
His hand moved from covering my mouth to groping my fat ass. The pain had started to fade to pleasure. He flicked down to watch my average dick start to get hard.
“Getting used to my pace? Good boy. ‘Fraid this has to be quick though. Now beg me to breed your pussy. Get creative with it.”
My eyes were fixed on him, the curve of his eyes set on me with an arrogant glint, a smug smirk on his face as he began picking up speed. Words just flowed out of me.
“Oh my God, Chis, please breed my pussy. I need that load leaking out of my hole as I go to sleep tonight. Your boyfriends a fucking idiot to pass up on taking your load. I’ll be here whenever you need me, just please use me and get off. I want to steal your load from Kent. Fill your side pussy up!”
That arrogant smirk slowly became a lust fueled grimace as he continued to crash into my body.
“Fuck yeah, you greedy whore. I’m gonna give it to you. Here it comes…take it!”
He grunted loudly as he pushed all the way in. I could feel his cock pulsing inside, unloading all his frustration and cum into my warm pink boy pussy. He collapsed on top of me and I could feel his heart jumping out of his chest and his warm smooth skin draped over my body. Then, after a long beat of post orgasm bliss, he unceremoniously pulled out of me, still holding my legs back fully exposed and erect, with a thin line of cum dripping out of my hole.
He immediately got dressed, pulling on his underwear, jeans, socks and shoes before pulling out his phone from his pocket and pointing it at me.
“Say cheese,” he said, and frozen and still in a bit of a haze, I didn’t promise that he had taken a photo until he was putting his phone away and pulling his shirt on.
I opened my mouth but he beat me to it.
“Just for my private collection. Thanks for the pussy. Much needed. Until next time.” And he was gone.
That weekend, there was a big warehouse party out in Queens. They threw a gay dance party every couple months that tons of muscle bound shirtless gays across the five boroughs attended.
I was going with a couple friends I had met at the gym and across New York. Jess and Jake were both bottoms like he, Jess was muscled with a tight stomach and a blond crew cut. Jake was lean and black, twists in his hair and thick thighs. We had all bought molly from the same dealer and had taken our pills together as we walked in. We were in between the dance floor and the bar, scanning the floor and looking to catch the eye of someone sexy when I spotted them.
Chris and Kent were by the bar, Chris’s arms wrapped around Kent from behind. They were with 3 other guys, all beautiful scene gays that I had scene around, on apps or online. The group caught Jess’s eye as he leaned in to chat with Jake and I, his pupils already starting to dilate.
“Beefcake central over there,” he said, nodding to the group.
“Very hot,” Jake agreed.
“Do you know any of them?” I asked.
“I’ve fucked that one, Ryan” he said, indicating the very thickly muscled ginger ordering drinks. He looked like he was 6 foot and 250 pounds of muscle, a football body from peak performance season, but perfectly preserved. “He fucked the hell out of me. He works in finance now but used to be a cornerback at a Division 3 college down South. Those two live in Chelsea,” he said, indicating the two flanking Ryan on either side. “Darian and Trey”
Darian was an absolutely shredded black guy, with a mini fro and smooth, milk chocolate brown skin. A delicate model face, I had seen him in Chris’s Stories over the past few weeks, and his profile told me he was a model, no surprise there. A lot of gay jobs booked, so he was clearly cornering the market with a specific clientele. Trey on the other hand, had the frat bro look down, totally blond with an orangey tan and big arms, wearing slightly saggy shorts over boxers and a backwards hat.
“And then I’m not sure about the other two.”
“That’s Chris Chan and his boyfriend Kent.”
“How do you know them?” Jake asked.
A small spike of panic was replaced by a practiced lie. “They just moved into my neighborhood. I don’t know Kent but I saw Chris a few times in LA, we’re both from there.”
“Nice,” Jess said, buying it. “From the way he’s grabbing his boyfriend, I think he’s the top. Are they open?”
“No,” I replied. “I think they’re monogamous.”
“For now!” Jake cut in. “Well that’s a top to bottom ratio of 4-1 and even with two off the market, that’s three available and headed this way. Nice odds.”
They had gotten their drinks and headed our way. Ryan first, followed by Trey, Darian, Kent and Chris. Passing us in a single file line, I saw Ryan’s eyes pass me over like I was invisible and then shoot Jess a smile, before slapping Jake on the ass before moving further into the crowd.
Trey also didn't acknowledge me or Jake but without a word, grabbed Jess and pulled him along with him onto the dancefloor. Darian gave me a smile and wink as he walked past, also doing the same to Jake before grabbing Jess’s shoulders from behind, forming a sandwich with Jake in between him and Trey. Kent looked to be rolling hard and wasn’t paying much attention to anything but the lights above him. Chis didn’t make eye contact like we were perfect strangers, but as they slowly moved past us, I felt his hand slide into shorts and felt him stick his finger in my hole quickly before letting go. I saw him bring the finger to his face from behind, but he gave no other sign that he recognized me.
“Oh wel,,” Jake said. “Let’s go in and dance.”
I followed him onto the dancefloor, finding a few people to make out as our rolls continued to hit us harder and harder with each passing minute. Around 4am, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and it was a text from Chris.
“Bathroom by the entrance. Go to the bathroom on the left and get a stall to the back. Hang your shirt over the door so I know which one. Leave the stall unlocked. 5 mins.”
I immediately separated from Jake like I was on autopilot, high out of my mind, I made a beeline for the bathrooms, throwing my shirt over the door before closing the stall.
“Red shirt” I texted back, which he reacted to with a thumbs up.
I sat on the toilet, vision blurbed while I waited for him, staring at the graffiti on the stall wall as it doubled or tripled. I was feeling the roll hard.
My body jolted as I heard the door push open. He stood there, shirtless, sweaty, shredded and smirking.
“There you are, slut. Stand up and turn around. We don’t have a lot of time.”
I stumbled to my feet unsteadily and moved to pull my pants down.
“Keep the jockstrap on. Don’t need to see your little clitty bouncing about.”
I did as I was told and assumed the position while I heard him unzip his pants and spit into his hand. He leaned forward before sticking his fat head against my hole and shoving forward without any hesitation.
I grunted loudly as he sighed.
“There we go,” he whispered. His hand moved forward to cover my mouth. “I need this. Playing babysitter all night is exhausting and I can already tell he’s too fucked up to want to fuck when we get home. Keep it down. We don’t want the bathroom attendant getting suspicious.”
In my high on drugs state, I managed to turn my grunts into gasps as my body got used to his cock.
“There we go,” he groaned into my ear. “Good slut.” He grabbed me by the hips and shifted me around the stall so that I was facing the door, with his cock still inside me. Then he sat down on the seat, bringing me down with him and impaling me on him.
“I’m close,” he whispered. “Ride it out of me.”
In a daze, I did as instructed, fastly pumping up and down on his cock, my legs straddling him on either side.
All the meanwhile, I could hear the faint buzz and chatter of people around us, using the stalls on either side and the sinks. I wondered if anyone could hear what was going on, if they peaked over the stall, if they would recognize me riding this hot, taken Asian’s cock.
My musings were shattered when I heard a slurred voice call from outside.
“Chriiiis? Babyyy? I want to go home.”
“Fuck,” Chris whispered sharply. “It’s Kent. Cover your mouth.”
Kent continued to call for Chris while walking down the stall line. As Chris heard him getting closer, he lifted my legs so it looked like only one person was in the stall. He had complete control over my body while I had one hand on the stall wall for support and the other hand covering my mouth. I watched this expensive looking sneakers, all dirty from being stepped on by drugged out gays all night walk past and then back towards the doors.
I looked back and saw Christopher texting someone. He looked up at me and shrugged. I need an escape plan. As much as I’d like to be here forever, and I know you could probably go all night, I’m in a bit of a time crunch.”
He put away his phone and stood by, pushing me against the stall wall. I heard the door unlock but not open which I thought was odd, but couldn't think much about it because Chris started to jackhammer into my pussy, the slaps were loudly echoing in the room. People could definitely hear us, but not my moans, because Chris was back to covering my mouth.
Chris went into hyperdrive, choking me with his other hand from behind.
“Here we go, you fucking worthless whore. I’m gonna cum. Gonna breed that white muscle boy pussy. Take my fucking load.”
He plunged all the way in and his cock twitched, erupting spurt after spurt of cum into my hole. Before I could process that, I heard the door open and my heart dropped, I turned around, expecting to see Kent, but instead I saw Darian, eyebrows raised and a big smile on his face as he looked at Chris.
“So THIS is the whore? I saw him on the dancefloor earlier. Nice tits. Happy to take him off your hands. Now go find Kent, he’s waiting by the water fountains.”
Wait, what?
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