The university library was dead quiet on a Wednesday afternoon, Johny sat at a corner desk on the third floor, laptop open to a half-finished paper he hadn’t touched in twenty minutes. His cock was rock-hard, straining against the front of his tight jeans. He kept glancing around, making sure no one was watching, then pulled out his phone and opened Grindr.
A new message popped up almost immediately from a blank profile, no name, no bio, just a location ping: basement toilets. The text was short and direct.
“DL trade in the end stall right now. Horny as fuck. Come get this dick if you’re a twink who can take it.”
Before Johny could type back, a picture loaded. It was a close-up of a thick, heavy cock hanging out of grey sweatpants. Seven inches long, veiny, and so girthy that Johny’s hole clenched just looking at it. The message continued: “It’s seven inches and thick. I’m horny and I want to fuck some twink ass right now. You coming or not?”
Johny’s pulse hammered. He typed back fast: “On my way.”
He shoved his laptop into his bag, took the stairs down two at a time, and slipped into the basement level. The toilets were old, tiled, and almost never used. The end cubicle door was cracked open. Johny pushed it shut behind him and locked it.
The guy from the picture was already waiting, exactly as described. Shirtless, gold chain resting against his smooth chest, grey sweatpants riding low on his hips so the waistband of blue-and-white plaid boxers peeked out. His stomach was thick and soft over a solid core, arms and shoulders pumped from the gym. He looked Johny up and down once, then jerked his chin.
Johny stepped closer, heart racing, and leaned in for a kiss.
The guy turned his face away and pushed a firm hand against Johny’s chest. “I don’t do that.”
He spun Johny around by the hips so he faced the tiled wall. Strong fingers hooked into the back of Johny’s jeans and yanked them down along with his briefs in one rough motion, exposing his smooth ass. The guy dropped to his knees, spread Johny’s cheeks wide, and buried his face between them.
His tongue was hot and wet, licking long stripes over Johny’s hole before pushing inside. He ate him like he was starving, sloppy and greedy, spit running down Johny’s thighs. He worked the tight ring with slow, deliberate circles, then dove deeper, fucking his tongue in and out in long, wet thrusts that made Johny’s legs shake. He sucked gently on the rim, then flattened his tongue and lapped broad and hungry, coating every inch with thick spit until the muscle relaxed and fluttered open. He kept going, relentless, pushing his face in harder, nose buried between the cheeks as he tongue-fucked the twink pussy with wet, obscene sounds, adding more spit with every sloppy pass until Johny was whimpering, pushing back onto that tongue.
The guy stood up, shoved his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It slapped heavy against Johny’s ass, already leaking. He hocked up two thick wads of spit, rubbed them over the fat head, and slicked the whole shaft until it glistened.
“Guide it,” he ordered, grabbing Johny’s wrist and forcing his hand back.
Johny wrapped shaking fingers around the thick base and lined the blunt head up with his hole. The guy pushed forward. The stretch was immediate and brutal. Johny gasped as the fat cock forced its way inside, inch after thick inch. It hurt. He bit his lip hard, trying not to cry out but couldn’t help it.
The guy didn’t wait. He grabbed Johny’s discarded T-shirt from the floor, balled it up, and shoved it into Johny’s mouth. “Shut up and take it.”
Then he started fucking. Long, deep strokes that slammed his thick stomach and heavy balls against Johny’s ass with every thrust. The slap of skin echoed off the cubicle walls. He used Johny’s hole like a pocket pussy, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in, grinding his hips in circles, stretching him wide open.
Johny’s eyes watered. The gag muffled his moans as the guy picked up speed, pounding harder, using him. The thick cock dragged against his prostate on every stroke until the pain melted into overwhelming pleasure. Johny’s whimpers turned into needy, desperate sounds behind the fabric as his body started to push back, chasing every brutal thrust. The initial burn gave way to a deep, addictive fullness that made his own cock throb untouched against the tiled wall. He loved how the guy’s heavy balls slapped rhythmically against him, how that thick stomach pressed firm and warm against his lower back on every deep stroke, claiming him completely.
The guy’s low grunts mixed with the wet sounds of spit and precum.
“Fuck, that twink pussy is tight,” he growled, gripping Johny’s hips hard enough to leave marks. He slammed in deep one last time, balls pressed tight, and unloaded. Hot, thick ropes of cum flooded Johny’s insides as the guy bred him, hips twitching with every spurt until he was empty.
He pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from Johny’s wrecked hole. Then he tucked his spent cock back into his sweatpants, wiped his hands on the grey fabric, and looked Johny dead in the eye.
“Say thank you.”
Johny pulled the spit-soaked T-shirt from his mouth, voice hoarse. “Thank you.”
The guy nodded once, grabbed his own T-shirt off the hook, yanked the door open, and walked out without another word, leaving Johny standing there with his jeans around his ankles and cum running down his thighs. Johny stayed frozen for a long moment, heart still racing from the intense fuck. He reached back with one trembling hand to feel his sore, leaking hole, fingers sliding through the warm, thick cum starting to drip out. The stretched ring was tender and sensitive, throbbing with a deep, satisfying ache that sent sparks of lingering pleasure through his body. He savored the feeling of being so thoroughly used and bred, the evidence of the anonymous stud’s load still warm inside him. A soft, satisfied moan escaped his lips as he caught his breath, then he slowly pulled up his jeans and got dressed.
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