Two years ago I met a straight Brazilian who gave me one of the best fucks of my life. We’ve only managed to meet four or five times since then — he doesn’t live in Portugal — but every single encounter has stayed burned in my memory.
He’s tall, light-brown skin, athletic without being overly muscular, and he has a thick, heavily curved cock that hits places most guys never reach.
He always starts the same way. A short message:
“Do you want to give me your ass?”
I always say yes.
The first time happened in an empty field near my place. It was late, around 11pm. He told me where to wait. When he saw me from a distance he followed me deeper into the field until we were hidden behind a line of trees. He was wearing a white t-shirt that clung to his chest and shoulders, and dark jeans. Without much talking he unzipped, pushed his boxers down, and pulled out that thick, crooked cock. Even half-hard the curve was obvious.
I dropped to my knees.
He wasn’t gentle and he had already warned me he wouldn’t be. The second my mouth was on him he grabbed the back of my head with both hands and started fucking my throat hard. No warm-up. Just deep, steady thrusts that made me choke and drool all over his cock and my own clothes. Spit ran down my chin in thick strings. He kept my head exactly where he wanted it and used my mouth like it was nothing more than a wet hole.
When he finally pulled out he asked me:
“Do you want it in your ass?”
“Yes. I want your cock in my ass.” I moan desperate for his big shaft. I love Brazilian men, they are just pure stallions while fucking.
“Then stick it out, bitch.”
I stood up, turned around, and braced both hands against the tree. He rolled a condom on while I pushed two slick fingers inside myself. The second I was ready he lined up that thick, curved cock and shoved in with one long thrust. The stretch made me cry out. The curve forced him against my walls immediately.
He didn’t give me time to adjust.
He started fucking me hard and deep, hips slamming against my ass, one hand locked on my hip and the other occasionally cracking across my cheek hard enough to leave a burning handprint. Every thrust dragged that crooked shaft over the most sensitive spot inside me. I moaned loudly, shamelessly, gripping the tree so I wouldn’t get knocked forward by the force of it.
“This what you wanted?” he muttered, voice rough. “To get your ass broken open?”
“Yes — please don’t stop — please, papi—”
He kept hammering into me for a few minutes time, the wet sound of his cock driving in and out of my hole loud in the quiet field. My legs were shaking. We could see the residential buildings with their lights at a distance. The place was risky… but who cares?
When he finally got close he pulled out, tore the condom off, and ordered:
“On your knees. Now.”
I dropped down fast and opened my mouth. He stroked himself twice and started cumming — thick, heavy ropes that landed across my tongue, my cheeks, my nose, my forehead. He kept going until my face was completely covered, cum dripping from my chin onto my shirt. When he finished he looked down at the mess he’d made and let out a short, satisfied laugh.
“You’re totally covered, you’re a mess.”
Then he tucked himself away, zipped up, and walked back toward his car without another word.
I stayed there on my knees in the dark field, heart pounding, face covered in his cum, ass still open and throbbing from that thick, crooked cock, already knowing I would say yes the next time he messaged me.
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