I finally summoned the strength to pull the truck door handle, popping the door handle and slid out on the concrete before me with a thud from my boots. I looked back to Hunter. He again gestured toward Gunnar’s house, insisting I go in. I looked down to my booted feet, breathing in deeply, holding it, then slowly exhaled. I closed the door to Hunter’s truck.
Was I really ready to face him? How do I explain myself? I left without saying a word to him, ignored him as he waved goodbye before I drove away, and then I proceeded to suck Hunter off. It’s not like I could keep it to myself. Relationships are built upon a foundation of trust. Despite Hunter’s suggestion that we keep our little session to ourselves, it wasn’t an option. If I went in there, I knew I’d be honest. Gunnar did not deserve dishonestly. It was time to slap on a pair of balls, to man up and face my fears.
I slowly started to walk to the door. About half way up the driveway, I heard Hunter’s rig shift into drive, slowly coasting away. I didn’t look back. I knew if I did, I’d try to run back and hide like a coward. Not an option.
I grabbed my keys from my pocket, selecting the proper house key. I stared at it. It was the last barrier. As soon as I inserted the key, he would hear it if he was anywhere in the living room. That would be the point of no return. Well, I suppose I could put the key in and just run away at top speed, I thought to myself, encouraging a momentary smirk at my own silliness.
Maybe he’d be asleep and I could pretend I was never here…
I inserted the key, gripping the door knob with my other hand. Again, I breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, then slowly exhaled. In one fluid motion, I twisted both objects, pushing the door open. There was no turning back.
Most of the lights were off, save for those in the dining room. Some music was quietly playing, something I didn’t recognize. I entered the house, staring at my shoes, and put my keys in my pocket and closed the door. My heart was racing. The lion’s den, I thought to myself. I remained facing the door for a moment, thinking childishly that if I can’t see anyone, no one can see me. It was time. Would he take one look at me and demand I leave? Would he be able to look me in the eyes, or I him?
I turned around, and looked toward the lights above the dining room table.
There he was, in all his glory. Gunnar was sitting at the table, his face buried in his huge hands, I noticed his body shuttering a bit thru his black t-shirt. He was in tears. In over two years, I had never known Gunnar to cry. It was a tough sight, seeing him quietly sit there in misery.
I slowly started to approach, walking past the couch in the living room, my boots leaving behind an unmistakable thud with each step. Gunnar looked up in surprise, revealing his bloodshot eyes thru his furrowed brows. No one was supposed to be in the house except for him.
Our eyes met. The cold I had felt in my heart, the deadness inside me, was subsiding, replaced by feelings of shame and sorrow at seeing Gunnar so miserable. He stood up quickly, facing me, his mouth ajar.
“Gunnar,” I said meekly, feeling a frog in my throat as I slowly moved closer to the table.
I halted my advance, only a few feet from the table. I stared down to my feet, searching for the words, hoping he didn’t hate me.
“I, uh,” I said as the water works began. “I’m sorry. I don’t…”
I couldn’t get the words out in time. Gunnar moved quickly toward me. In a flash, he shoved his body against mine, wrapping his mighty arms around me as he squeezed tight, my face against his huge chest. It was so sudden. I couldn’t have reciprocated fast enough. I wrapped my arms around him as best I could, holding him tight, opening up my floodgates to thoughts and feelings of whether or not I even deserved to be in his embrace.
Our bodies heaved almost in unison as our tears of sorrow and joy poured simultaneously. I melted into him, holding on with all my strength. I breathed in his scent and basked in his warm embrace. I turned my head a bit, resting my ear onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His chin was resting upon my head, perfectly containing me.
The embrace continued for what felt like minutes. He gradually moved a hand toward my soft hair, gently caressing my head. It felt like a dream.
“I’m so sorry,” Gunnar said as he tried to fight back his tears, his voice unfamiliar as it audibly demonstrated his sadness and crying.
His deep voice verberated from the throat into my body. His presence was all around me. My world. I smiled, not wanting this moment to end as I closed my eyes. But, as with all things, the moment did, in fact, come to an end.
We began to slowly release each other, our hands meeting for a moment, then pulled away. There we stood. Reunited after what felt like years, but in reality had only been shy of twelve hours.
“I didn’t mean to shut you out,” Gunnar began, his tears subsiding as he regained control. “I got scared.”
“I know,” I acknowledged. “I shut you out, too.”
I knew it had to be said. I had to now do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. If there was a future for us, I had to be honest and come clean.
“Gunnar,” I said softly. “Please don’t hate me.”
“Not a chance, Chris,” he said with a gentle smile.
“Me and Hunter, we uh, he found me at the club tonight.”
Gunnar watched me as I stared in shame at the floor.
“That fuckin’ bastard,” he said with a scowl, forcibly adjusting his voice to his more stoic, deep voice,
I looked up to his eyes. He saw my confusion.
“He kept making bullshit comments about you,” Gunnar explained. “He kept poking the fuckin’ bear. Shit like wanting to see if he could a blowjob from you, joking that he bet you were already doing the same with me. I mean, he’s right, but it pissed me off. The boys kept encouraging it like fuckin’ bitches. So I kicked ‘em to the street on their sorry collective ass.”
Gunnar smiled, finding this a good opportunity to lighten the mood and joke around a bit. I hesitated to respond. Maybe I could just exist in that moment for a bit longer to avoid saying it.
“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Gunnar asked in a protective tone which he usually reserved for Blake. “I swear to god I’ll fuck him up.”
“No, he didn’t hurt me at all,” I explained.
It dawned on me that Gunnar might have suspected what I was about to tell him. And to be honest, it gave me a breath of confidence to get it out.
“We fooled around a bit in his truck,” I admitted, feeling my face burn up with the intense emotions. “I blew him.”
I was subconsciously inching away from him. I was ashamed to even be in his sight.
“He’s such a piece of shit,” Gunnar said, shaking his head. “I shoulda known. He’s such a little bitch. He knew what he was doing.”
Perhaps Gunnar knew beforehand that Hunter wanted to get a blowjob from me, and that’s what pushed him over the edge to kick them out. Then Hunter retaliated by doing exactly what he said he would. It made sense.
“I’m sorry, Gunnar,” I apologized, hoping for his forgiveness. “I was angry, I drank a lot, and I invited him in. It wasn’t totally his fault..”
I wasn’t prepared to throw Hunter the bus. I did, in fact, willingly encourage him to dump a load in my throat. Hunter made a choice to make sure Gunnar and I reunited before the day’s end, something I would never forget.
“He’s been talking shit for months,” Gunnar said. “I had a feeling he’d try. Tonight must have sent him over edge.”
The huge weight of shame was lifting off my chest. I felt like I could breathe again. He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t shaming me, he was understanding. He was gracious. He was Gunnar. I finally found the strength to look him in the eyes again.
Gunnar closed the gap between us, his wide shoulders seeming to encompass my very being. He placed his big hands on either side of my face, then pressed his lips against mine.
I inhaled deeply. Our eyes closed. There was no tongue action, only our lips at first. I moved my arms out to caress his muscular chest, easing my hands back to hold onto him in an embrace. He shifted an arm around my torso, his other hand massaging my head. His tongue found its way to my lips, pressing for entry. As soon as I parted my lips, Gunnar forced his tongue in, seemingly devouring my tongue and lips. I whimpered at the intimate contact. We were both obviously sporting hardons by that point. We broke off the kiss, maintaining the embrace. I felt complete again. I felt safe. I felt wanted. I was home.
“Let’s relax,” Gunnar suggested with a smile.
He guided me by the hand toward the couch, making a quick stop by the speaker at the edge of the table to quell the music. We sat down, I leaned myself against his side and he placed one of his huge arms over my shoulder. I inhaled the sweat from his armpit. Gunnar’s sweat was wonderful to me. Gunnar turned on the TV with the remote, surfing thru the channels..
“So, how big is he?” Gunnar asked.
I was taken aback. He must have been referring to Hunter. Why would he want to know, or even be okay discussing it? Huh.
“It was kinda dark,” I attempted to lie. “I didn’t get a good look.”
“You’re pretty bad at lying,” Gunnar chuckled. “C’mon now, spill the beans.”
“I mean, he’s up there but not nearly as big as you,” I said, telling the truth.
“Good,” he replied, adjusting his bulge as I fluffed his feathers.
I’m sure he enjoyed hearing that. Why wouldn’t he? The alpha of the pack should have the biggest cock, after all. Those thoughts alone were enough to excite me. I was still thirty to be used properly by an alpha cock.
I fixed my gaze to the TV where Gunnar had settled on an old comedy rerun. I couldn’t focus too well on it as I tried to simply enjoy being up against Gunnar, letting his warmth flow thru me.
“I love you,” I said to him, pressing myself against him even more.
Gunnar began massaging my shoulder with his big hand. He pressed his lips against my head, kissing it softly.
“I love you too, Chris,” he replied. “First thing tomorrow, we get you settled in. We don’t need to pick up Blake til around noon.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
We continued to enjoy each other’s presence, just existing together.
“I think this is cause for celebration,” Gunnar said.
He slowly stood up to fetch an open bottle of whiskey and a couple glasses. He wanted me to drink with him. I’d never had a drink in his presence. I was on the clock when I was here so it never seemed appropriate or professional. Welp, first time for everything, right?
He handed me a filled glass, put back the bottle and returned to the couch with his own glass in hand. I just couldn’t stop comparing how big the glass looked in my hands versus how tiny it seemed in his big, manly hands. As it should be, I thought to myself.
“Cheers,” he saluted his beverage.
We clinked out glasses together, both of us smiling, and took a sip.
“Hey, uh, Chris?” Gunnar said.
I looked to meet his eyes.
“When Blake mentioned Avery’s dads, I didn’t know how to take it.”
It wasn’t news to me, but I attentively listened. He was opening up a part of him that he worked so hard to keep buried. The whole ‘gay’ thing was quite new to him.
“I didn’t think I’d end up falling in love with a man,” he explained. “You’re kind, thoughtful, smart… Blake needs that in his life. He needs you in his life.”
Was Gunnar really prepared to say what I thought he was about to say? Sure, I felt uncomfortable hearing compliments about myself, but I felt appreciated.
“Gunnar,” I interrupted. “You don’t have to say it…”
“I do,” he asserted, his eyes glossing over from the emotions he normally kept buried. “I do, Chris. I want you in my life. I need you in my life. And so does Blake. Not as somebody who comes and goes, but someone who’s here for him. A parent.”
He said it. Those words, to me, meant so much more than I could have expressed to him. He wanted me. Not as some fucktoy for his enjoyment, which in some universe would have been enough for me, but as an intimate part of his life. This alpha male, uber-masculine former Marine professed his desire to have me. It was like a dream come true. Our sexual chemistry was incredible. He fucked like an animal. But he showed me so much warmth and care. He demonstrated his respect for me as a person. He was my everything. In 24 hours, our relationship evolved from one of professionalism to one of unabashed longing, physically and emotionally.
I loved them both. Gunnar and Blake were the most important people in my life. Hearing those words felt like a fairytale. Gunnar wanted me to be a parent to Blake. Wanted me to live in his house. It was a lot to process, but Gunnar was right - it needed to be said. His eyes communicated a yearning for approval. He put himself out there for me in a big way. He showed vulnerability, something that was against his very nature, and he chose to expose himself to me.
“I’d like that,” I said thru the developing frog in my throat. “I’d like that a lot.”
Gunnar gave a big smile and a sigh of relief, wiping his eyes of the built-up tears. We leaned in and gave each other a kiss on the lips.
“Whew!” he exclaimed in his manly, testosterone-fuelled alpha voice. “Fuck, even leading Marines into combat wasn’t that hard.”
I giggled as we shared the moment, sipping whiskey from our respective glasses in unison. We got ourselves comfortable again, me leaning against his thick, muscular body as he draped his arm over my shoulder. I again breathed in the smell from his armpit. It was manly. It was sexy. It was arousing. It was Gunnar, my obsession.
“So you invited Hunter’s dick in your mouth, huh?” Gunnar asked, teasing me.
I couldn’t tell if he was upset about it or just poking fun. I didn’t want to respond.
“Gonna have to punish you,” Gunnar said as he massaged his crotch with the glass in his hand.
Lord have absolute mercy. Gunnar was so fucking hot, and all I seemed to want at that time was to show him an apology for sucking another cock. I knew better than to initiate a session with him. It was unmistakably my place to receive his abuse, to be ready on a moment’s notice to service him, to endure his alpha male usage. My cock was rock hard, as it should be.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I leaned away from him, getting enough distance to meet his gaze and obey him. My mouth was ajar, breathing harder in anticipation. His eyes commanded respect, demanding obedience. I wasn’t sure how he’d punish me, but I had a distinct feeling I’d be begging for mercy at some point soon. With Gunnar, though, there would be no mercy. Anytime I would resist or struggle before, he only used harder, getting off on my subservience as an alpha god should.
His eyes told me to expect his animalistic, brutish nature. I was about to be forced to service him the way he wanted to be pleasured. He was a powerhouse of daddy muscle. There was no option. My holes were expected to submit whether I wanted it or not.
“I’m gonna make you squeal like the faggot bitch you are,” he said with a similar shit-eating grin as Hunter gave me at the club, an unmistable indication that he wanted to subjugate me to his whim and that he knew I have to obey entierly. “I’m gonna make it fuckin’ hurt. Try and struggle and see what happens.”
His grin settled into a smirk of satisfaction as he saw the look in my eyes conveying a lustful desire to be forced to endure him, and also a bit of fear as one would expect when knowing they’d be suffering soon. He gave me his warning. Submission wasn’t optional. I knew that resistance would only intensify his treatment, that it would result in him transitioning his focus from pleasuring himself to instead using his might to teach me a lesson. I needed him, however I could get him.
But my holes, both of them, were sore. My throat had been stretched and fucked three times in 24 hours, and my ass was used so roughly twice in that same time. I knew that even if he were to be gentle, I would still have to endure discomfort. But this was Gunnar… when he fucked, he absolutely used. I was in for a wild ride whether I liked it or not.
“Get on your knees, right here,” he commanded, pointing between his widely spread legs.
I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t resist him. My fucking god he was so sexy. A perfect piece of daddy meat.
I assumed the assigned position, getting off the couch and kneeling before him as though he was a god who demanded worship.
My eyes fixated on his big bulge. It was far more bulky than usual… he was wearing his jockstrap, trapping his monstrous cock and balls in a giant bundle of sweaty alpha meat. Gunnar only had one jockstrap which he used whenever he’d hit the gym for a workout. He must have done exactly that since I last saw him earlier that day, as working out was a good distraction for him. He rarely washed it, keeping it tucked away in his nightstand between uses. I remember occasionally sneaking into his room to catch a whiff of it to fuel my jerk off sessions.
I took in the sight of his denim laden thighs that seemed like tree trunks - thick, beefy, muscular legs that he could easily use to crush me if he so desired. My admiring gaze transitioned to his wide shoulders and hairy arms. So big and powerful with the perfect mix of thick, sculpted muscle and a little bit of fluff to make them look wholesome, delicious and powerful.
My eyes eventually met with his. He was pleased with himself. He knew I was his subservient little faggot bitch who’d obey his desires. He stood up, the small distance between us placing his huge bulge directly against my face. As any fag would, I directed my nose into the bulge and began to inhale his scent. He remained silent as he undid his belt and pants before shoving them down to his feet and kicking them off, making sure that his sweat soaked, unwashed jockstrap was pressed against my face. It used to be pearly white, but after so much use and so little washing, it was hardly a clean white color.
I had never caught a whiff of his jockstrap while it was warm, or especially while it was still adorning his perfect body. The smell was very strong. It was reminiscent of the smell from when he shoved my face into his sweat soaked morning crotch earlier that morning. It was even stronger than that. It was wonderful. I inhaled as deep as I could, closing my eyes as I was overcome with total desire for his usage.
“Like that?” he rhetorically asked. “Can't get enough of that shit, huh? Fuckin’ cocksucker.”
I moaned, rubbing my nose across the large bulge as I nodded. I wanted him so bad by that point. I opened my mouth to get a good taste. Cupping my mouth over the relatively small amount of the bulge that could actually fit, I sucked in the fluids of his wet jock strap. It tasted amazing. It was salty like sweat should be, with a delicious flavor that I couldn't describe. He was allowing me to worship him, not yet placing his hand on my head to assume physical control.
He finally decided to reveal his alpha cock to me in all its glory, slipping his jock strap past my mouth and chin as his semi hard monster pressed against my chin. As much as I wanted to immediately begin working on his shaft, I wanted to wait for him to give me permission like a true bottom fag. But I couldn't resist licking the shaft as I held my head stationary, cupping my lips around his thickness and kissing it. I looked up to his eyes for approval.
Gunnar’s big grin told me he was very much pleased with my behavior. Whether that meant he would be merciful or instead even more forceful, I couldn't tell. I would, however, find out shortly.
“Remember this morning?” he asked, reminding me of what all he did to me.
He might have been referring to a number of things. The part where he viciously used my throat, increasing in intensity as I struggled. The part where he savagely shoved his full length into my unstretched, unprepared guts to deposit a load. The part where he empties his huge serving of alpha male morning piss into my bowels. I wasn't sure what he was specifically referring to, but I wanted to find out the hard way. I wanted him to force his bidding upon me.
He gripped my head as he usually would do to assume complete control over me. It was a powerful reminder of my place before him. I continued licking his shaft as best I could.
“You're gonna swallow it this time,” he said. “You're a faggot. You're gonna serve me.”
My eyes pleaded with him for more as his deep voice verberated thru his shaft onto my tongue and lips. Based on his comment, either my throat was going to be impaled when we came or he was gonna make me take another load of his hot alpha piss. The thought of being a urinal for a big cock was still new to me. If that's what his plan was, I would have to learn real quick how to endure and appreciate it. If, indeed, that was his intention, it would indicate that his cock and any fluid from it, he believed that I was privileged to be allowed to experience it.
Gunnar was making it very clear to me that whatever treatment I received from his awesome monster cock was to be appreciated. And I did, in fact, appreciate being his bitch.
He gripped his cock with the free hand, pulling my face away harshly with his grip thru my hair. I gasped in surprise, his yank a bit painful and my face deprived of his meat. He released his grip from my head.
“All the way down,” he instructed. “Now.”
His command was unmistakable. He expected compliance. I did as I was told, launching my face toward his crotch, opening wide for his fat cock. As I pushed myself down, enabling my throat to be invaded by his semi hard cock, I whimpered and moaned involuntarily like a slut. I forced my nose into his wet, sweat soaked pubes as my forehead rested against his hairy chest, his huge balls forming around my chin. My face was encompassed completely and I could barely get air thru my nose. Fortunately, he wasn't too hard at that point so I was able to get air into my lungs, albeit with great difficulty. His sweat was intoxicating and inescapable.
Gunnar let out a deep sign of relief as I felt his cock jerk a bit. I was certain. He was going to use my throat as a urinal as he did my bowels that morning. Even if I didn't like the taste, assuming I could actually taste it considering how deep he was in my throat, I would make myself endure it. He was worth it.
With my face embedded against his sweaty body and his hardening cock expanding further down, cutting off my air supply, his hand having a vice-like grip on my head, it began. It was warm and my stomach immediately began to receive the piss from an alpha god. As I struggled to hold on to the last breath I took, all I could do was endure his usage. I reached up and cupped my hands against his hairy, firm ass cheeks. There would be no escape.
“Every fuckin’ drop,” Gunnar said as he continued to relieve himself into my belly. “Fuck yeah, faggot. Take it!”
He was loud, his bass-filled voice vibrating into my body. He slowly gyrated his hips, using my fag throatin two different ways.
I was running out of air, fast. My hands moved from his ass to the front of his thighs in an attempt to pull away, but he responded to my resistance by stepping forward to align his powerful thighs with my head, squeezing tight as he placed his other hand on my head as well.
It lasted about 30 seconds, at least. His cock jerked a couple times as he deposited the last few drops inside of me. I was panicking, wondering how I could possibly survive if he continued for much longer. Everything was becoming hazy and my thoughts seemed like mesh and difficult to process, the strength of my attempt to push away from his thick thighs getting weaker.
In a single motion, having finished relieving himself, he released the grip of his massive thighs from my head and yanked me off his cock completely, allowing me to stumble backwards onto my ass. I must have looked absolutely pathetic as I sat there, coughing and gasping for air to recover from his brutal usage.
My eyes were watering and focusing my haze vision was difficult as I sat there on the hardwood floor. Even my thoughts were jumbled.
Before I could comprehend my surroundings, I felt something big and warm begin to wrap around my back from either side. Gunnar had reached down to help pull me to my feet. Feeling myself regain control over my body, I was able to hold myself up, albeit while my legs were a bit shaky. Gunnar kept his arms around me so I wouldn't stumble, pressing our bodies together. My vision had recovered, settling into Gunnar's gaze. He had a gentle smile on his face. I couldn't help but to admire his strong, wide jaw adorned with a perfect, thick beard. An absolute drop-dead sexy, uber masculine face. I returned his smile, feeling truly wholesome after enduring his use. It was a new experience for me. Sure, I had seen and even enjoyed watching dudes receive piss from big cocks in porn. But to have not only received, rather forced to ingest every drop was beyond the pale. My cock had never felt so wet in my life. It seemed that we both enjoyed everything about it. Truly, there must have been a g-spot somewhere in my throat. As I stabilized myself firmly on my own feet, his big hands slowly moved across my back to settle on the sides of my torso.
My admiring eyes moved down towards his wide, muscular shoulders. My god he was delicious. His huge triceps led into a truly mouthwatering set of biceps, becoming a set of wide, powerful forearms. All of it was covered in a dense, uniform coating of dark hair and a light layer of body fat, creating a smooth, delicious transition from one muscle group to another. The true epitome of alpha daddy meat. From his armpits, his manly hairs coalesced into a dense forest of male sweat and testosterone. His scent was strong after a long day, the antiperspirant having worn off almost completely as I breathed in his smell. I reached my hands out to touch and worship his alpha body, working my way from his dark pink nipples to the rest of his perfectly sculpted, hairy pectorals. My hands seemed tiny as they began to caress his huge arms. Bless.
We were both silent, save for my labored breathing. Gunnar was enjoying my admiring touches across his body. I was desperate for more. My hands wanted to explore every muscle and every inch of his perfect body. My mouth was empty, feeling deprived of his awesome monster cock.
“You took like a beast,” Gunnar said softly with a sexy smile. “I think you liked it.”
I reciprocated his look, giving a look of genuine happiness that I pleased him so well. He leaned in to press his lips against mine as I continued to explore his body with my hands.
I worked my hands back up his arms, across his shoulders and down to his pectorals. I let my body weight bring me down gently back to my knees as my hands moved a bit further down, Gunnar releasing his hands from my torso. Holy hell, his abs were gorgeous too - clearly defined, with also a slight layer of fluff and fur. I arched my head upward to lock eyes with his. The base of his huge, hard cock, wet with saliva and throat slime rested up against my chin, radiating intense heat as my hands massaged his gloriously furry belly. He looked pleased with himself and my worship of his perfection. I was truly in a posture of worship, on my knees with my hands raised above my head to caress him.
“Thank you, sir,” I said to him softly, feeling the desire to share with him my absolute adoration and yearning for him. “I love being your faggot.”
He indeed enjoyed hearing my longing for his abuse and feeling my hands praise him in all his glory. I pressed my face against his belly, kissing it tenderly a couple times before reaching my tongue out to taste his salty, sweaty body. I worked my way down, feeling his cock slide away from my neck and chin and I continued to kiss and worship my way down to the hairy base of his cock. I involuntarily whimpered a bit, imagining my lips being in the same spot, but rather wrapped around it with his length buried far inside of me.
Gunnar was allowing me to demonstrate to him my submission and desire to be his faggot. I wanted to show him that even if I had to force myself, I would take him to the best of my abilities. He moaned in approval of my adoration of his perfection, allowing me to simply admire him and worship him.
I continued to kiss and lick my way down his shaft. With such an impressive length and the pace I was advancing my kissing, it took a while before I eventually made it to his leaking head. I looked back into his eyes for approval. His big grin confirmed that I indeed was serving him properly. It only increased my desire to show him how much I loved being his bitch, his free-use holes that were open for service at his whim. He would always do most of the work to use me, and I wanted to reciprocate.
“God you’re so cute,” he said thru a big smile. “Show me what a good cocksucking fag can do.”
He gave me his permission, and calling me a cocksucking fag was the biggest turn on. I moaned as I kissed his cockhead, sucking in his juices. There were more juices on the ground below the head. It was a small puddle of his never-ending stream of precum. It deserved better than to sit there on the floor. I felt compelled. I moved my hand to the floor on either side of his big feet. I tried to lick it up but found I was instead just moving it around instead of ingesting it. Nah, not acceptable. I began to suck it off the floor, slurping audibly.
“Can’t get enough of that shit, can you fag?” Gunnar teased, pleased with himself over my unabashed worship of his cock juices.
I finished getting up his juices and felt compelled to begin kissing his huge feet. I inhaled the strong smell of his feet which were trapped in boots for most of the hot, summer day. I knew from experience, from sniffing his sweat soaked socks before, because of course I did, that he didn’t always wear a fresh pair. I could tell from the pungent smell that he indeed reused his soiled sock that day. I can’t even properly describe how turned on I was, kissing the salty, sweaty feet of the alpha male who brutally forced me to take in a load of his piss just moments before, transitioning from his left foot to his right foot. I pulled my head away and looked up to his powerful, thick, hairy calves, massaging my hands over them in adoration. They were naturally flawless with a wonderfully thick transition from his muscles to his thick ankles. I continued my massaging up to his super thick, bulky thighs, also adorned in a thick layer of fur. As I made my way higher, the head of his cock was perfectly aligned with my mouth, as if it was my destiny. Without thinking, I opened my mouth wide and shoved my face against his body, practically inhaling his length down my worn throat. I coughed a bit but maintained my posture as I braced myself with my hands on his bulky thighs. I wanted to hold him inside me as long as I could handle of my own accord, to demonstrate to him how much I loved servicing him. I held him in, massaging his length with my tongue, swallowing around his shaft to pleasure him. Gunnar moaned in approval. I fought back the urge to pull away to breathe again, making myself endure it. But my air supply was limited, so inevitably I had to pull away from his length, a strand of throat slime connecting my lips to the tip of his meat as I breathed deep to catch my breath. I stared longingly at his gorgeous member and huge balls, admiring how his body hair perfectly coalesced toward his crotch.
I looked into his eyes, smiling. I was exactly where I was meant to be. Gunnar returned my smile with a big grin. He wasn’t done with me.
“Top tier fag is what you are,” he joked.
“Only for you, sir,” I replied, giggling a bit.
He leaned down to pull me to my feet, taking me by the hand as he led us down the hall towards the master bedroom. It meant I was about to have my ass pummelled mercilessly. I knew I was about to experience quite a bit of pain and discomfort from his fat cock being inside that deep space in my guts, but I wanted it, bad. I noticed he had picked up the jock strap from the couch and was carrying it in his other hand. I was hoping he was about to gag me with it as he did with the briefs the night before, because of course I did. How could I not? How could anyone in their right mind not want that unwashed, cock sweat soaked fabric from an alpha male in their mouth?
I quickly undressed myself completely, excited for what he would do to me, shoving my boots toward the wall. Gunnar looked me over, pleased by the sight of my smooth, much smaller body.
Gunnar didn't say a word as he shoved me hard onto the soft mattress, landing on my back. I knew what was about to happen. It didn't have to be said. I was going to endure a rough pounding from Gunnar. I moved myself to the center of the bed, spreading my legs and holding them up for his access.
“That's right,” Gunnar said in his deep voice. “You can't wait for this big, fat cock, huh fag?”
He teased me, shaking his meat and slapping it against his hand a few times. It sounded so heavy as he did so.
“Please sir,” I pleaded, looking into his eyes with unabashed longing for his cruel treatment.
I wanted him to ram himself inside me, to use me savagely like an animal. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted him to mercilessly slam himself into my guts, to hold me down and force me to endure him. I was a faggot bitch for him, and he was going to deliver exactly that.
“Turn over,” he commanded. “Hands behind your back.”
Oh my. Yes please, sir. Just the thought of potentially having my hands restrained as he used my hole had me absolutely itching to get fucked by the most savage user I’d ever encountered. All I wanted at that moment was to feel him in my guts, using me to pleasure him, to go harder if I tried to resist. And I was going to get exactly that. I decided to test my theory from the previous night, that if I were to try to wiggle free when his cock first enters me, that he would respond by slamming himself balls deep with all his might to teach me a lesson. The anticipation to find out seemed almost unnatural. I wanted to be forcibly taken from behind, unable to resist his use. But, I mean, how could it be unnatural to desire to service a perfect specimen? Was it possible that my desires were instinctual? I would be lying if I said that one my darkest, deepest fetishes was a rape fantasy. And Gunnar certainly was a perfect sexual partner to explore that facet of my unspoken dreams. He was powerful, forceful and unwavering in his usage.
I swiftly obeyed, rolling over onto my stomach, my legs spread wide to invite his domination. I promptly rested my hands behind my back, keeping my wrists together to enable him easy control, assuming that he was going to hold me down. I could only hope.
Gunnar was silent as I felt his weight on the mattress, settling between my legs, my anticipation growing as he neared. Luckily I was still clean inside thanks to a recent douching while I was at my apartment earlier. The last thing I ever wanted was to provide a dirty experience. My hole was meant to be presentable for alpha male use.
Gunnar’s hands rested atop my shoulders and back. His hands were so big that they seemed to easily cover the entire width, sending in a wonderful warmth thru my skin. He gently massaged my muscles. I moaned in appreciation. His touch felt so good as he caressed my body. His hands continued to work their way down to my wrists, rubbing my hands and arms before proceeding further down. His hands stopped on my ass cheeks, squeezing and massaging my firm, smooth booty.
“Such a nice fuckin’ ass,” Gunnar softly remarked, giving a firm slap on the right cheek.
“It’s your’s, sir,” I said with my head tilted to the side, enjoying his slap on my ass.
I breathed in his smell from his unwashed sheets, allowing his presence to surround me. Gunnar was my world.
He shifted his posture again, feeling his huge, hairy legs press up against my thighs. They were trapped, stuck to remaining spread open for his convenience. His hands on my cheeks spread them open as he slapped his leaking, monster cock against my ass crack. Holy shit it was heavy, landing with a strong thud that I could feel vibrate thru my body. He couldn’t tell, but my mouth was ajar with a slutty smile on my face, my eyes closed as I focussed my attention on my more useful senses for this encounter. He settled his hot, wet, leaking cockhead against my hole causing it to quiver in yearning and anticipation. He released his hands from my cheeks to let them settle around his thick meat.
“Open,” he ordered in his deep, commanding voice.
You’re damned right if you think I eagerly obeyed, opening my mouth wide. He delivered to my gaping, cocksucking fag mouth, a true gift and delight. It was a damp piece of fabric which, just from the smell of it which was inescapable and unmistakable, I could tell was his unwashed, sweat soaked jockstrap. God yes! It was the cloth that had trapped so much of his essence. All the testosterone-fueled manly sweat from his prime alpha male real estate. His cock sweat was something that anyone would be lucky to enjoy, and Gunnar knew it.
“Like the take of my jockstrap, faggot?” Gunnar asked. He was getting off his subjugation of me, as such a perfect, hyper-masculine user should.
“Mm-hmm,” I whimpered, suckling on his essence and squeezing my ass cheeks to massage his shaft.
“Damn, you’re such a fuckin’ cock whore,” he laughed, slapping my ass again.
He assumed his position, effortlessly gripping my small wrists together with a big hand. His grip was tight but not enough to be uncomfortable. But I knew that if I were to try to break free, he would keep them together with whatever strength was necessary. He was easily powerful enough to keep me restrained against any efforts to get loose from his control. He was going to keep me exactly where he wanted me until he was satisfied. Just the way it should be.
My anticipation continued to grow as I listened to the wet sound of his precum being spread over his huge cock as he jerked himself to prepare his shaft. I knew that it was less in consideration of helping me endure his use and more about making it pleasurable for himself.
“Ready or not, it’s going in,” he stated, being gracious enough to let me brace myself for his entry.
He hadn’t given me a fingering to loosen me up. I was tight and still sore from his usage that morning. I was going to get to fully experience my rape fantasy, to feel a monster cock enter me without any attempt to lessen the blow. True, unforgiving use by a powerful alpha male who enjoyed degrading me the way my fag desires yearned for.
And that’s exactly what I got.
Gunnar pressed his hips forward and I felt him enter me. His entry was sudden and immediate. I screamed out thru his delicious jockstrap in pain. There was no way it couldn’t hurt. It was enough to make me second guess my desire to try to wiggle free to get him to deliver a savage, balls-deep thrust into my guts to punish me for resisting. If it was already hurting that bad, I thought to myself, I can’t imagine what his ultimate plummet would be like.
“Damn you’re so tight,” he remarked in a gasp of his sudden pleasure.
My entrance was searing, an inescapable reminder of my place in the situation. The only lube that was aiding my hole was his plentiful precum. My hands jerked involuntarily at his sudden thrust inward and he responded accordingly, tightening his grip with his powerful hand. There was no way out. He had me under his control.
“Oh my god, oh fuck!” I squealed thru the gag. “It’s too big.”
My eyes were clamped shut as I endured his entry. I’d never felt so much discomfort from a cock inside me. Hopefully with enough time, I thought to myself, I’ll get used to his size. Some of the pain was beginning to subside after the first few moments, but not of great significance. I summoned my courage and began to visualize my dark fantasy, letting it fuel my desire to experience true, forced usage.
I was going to find out what it was like. Even thru the pain, I desperately wanted Gunnar to make me his bitch in the ultimate way. I wanted him to brutalize me. And I knew he would do exactly that.
I used my legs to try to arch myself away, twisting my torso and waist as I could. I must have looked like prey attempting to escape a predator. His legs were between mine, so I couldn’t move very much. But it was enough.
Gunnar, the apex predator, was an inescapable force that couldn’t be denied. My resistance would not deter him.
“You’re not going anywhere!” he told me in a strong, guttural tone that I’d never heard from him before. “Take it you fucking fag!”
His aggression was surprising. It was a primal voice that seemed to speak directly to my cock, causing me to flex tightly and massage his cockhead with my sphincter. I’d never felt such an overwhelming desire to be so totally destroyed from the inside. He placed his spare hand on my upper back, leaning onto it to use the weight of his upper body to press me firmly into the mattress, whilst also pressing into me with the hand that had me restrained. It helped arch my ass to receive what we both knew was the consequence of trying to get free. He told me the previous night exactly what he would do, and I had no doubt that he would be true to his word.
He delivered my consequence, violently. In a single motion, with one powerful, unyielding thrust, Gunnar rammed himself inside of me. His balls pressed firmly against me as he bottomed out. He punched thru the deep barrier in my guts, not seeming to be at all halted by the strong resistance it offered. Every last bit of his massive cock was inside me. As he did so, he let out a deep, loud growl between his teeth. I yelled out in agony, instantly regretting my decision. The invasion was cruel and there was no turning back.
My eyes watered quickly, tears falling down my face from the intensity. I started to try wiggling free for real, not as an act. But with his weight holding me down and his unmovable tree trunks for legs between my own legs, resistance was hopeless.
“Fuck! Fuck! Sir, it’s too much, please!” I muttered thru his jockstrap.
Of course he couldn’t make out my words, but he certainly knew it was a plea for mercy. Gunnar was not one to expect mercy from. I was learning exactly what it felt like to live my dark fantasy, from which I had no hope of escaping. I knowingly encourage it, and would experience it at Gunnar’s full intensity.
“I told you what would happen,” he said in a deep, serious tone.
He delivered the first of his devastating thrusts, quickly pulling his hips back, leaving only the tip inside me before immediately slamming balls deep. I squealed like a pathetic faggot bitch beneath him as he sighed in pleasure from my tight hole. He continued, one harsh thrust after another as he long-dicked my aching hole. Each time he slammed himself in, my yelps became fueled less by intense pain and more a mixture of discomfort and pleasure as my prostate was struck by his big head and further into my guts as he continued to rearrange them. My entrance still felt like it was on fire. His precum was serving as a perfect lubricant. I couldn’t imagine what it would have felt like without it.
So this is what it feels like to be raped by Gunnar, I thought to myself. This is what it would be like to be grabbed in a dark alley and used by him against my will.
“Fuck yeah, take that fucking cock, faggot!” he shouted to me.
The pace of his thrusts increased dramatically, using his incredible power and stamina to pound me with every bit of strength he had. I felt a building pressure inside me. I couldn’t hold it in. Thru the intense pain in my guts and my entrance, he was fucking a load of cum out of me. My ass clenched hard around his huge cock which seemed to encourage him to fuck harder.
“Fuck me, daddy,” I squealed thru his jockstrap. “Oh my god! Rape me, please rape me sir!”
He couldn’t make out my words, but his forceful usage seemed to slam the words out with every thrust. His breath was labored and his sweat had begun to drip all over my body, feeling the warm drops land and pool on my back as it dripped down my sides and onto the sheets beneath me. His movements were becoming less and less uniform. He was close. He didn’t relent. Not a bit.. He was dumping a huge load of his hot alpha seed inside me and continuing the nonstop pounding before bottoming out once more, halting his motions. He finally released my hands and removed his weight from my back, allowing me to breathe more easily and to move my arms to a more comfortable position by my sides.
“You feel so good,” Gunnar moaned quietly thru labored breath as he rested his huge body on top of me, his weight seeming to allow even more length of his cock to enter, pressing a bit deeper and forcing a moan out of me.
He seemed to fit against my back like a glove, my body feeling like it had been engulfed by his sweaty torso. He spread his arms out, resting on his elbows on either side of my head. The smell of his armpits waffles to my face. He smelled so good to me. All that manly testosterone-fueled sweat was an incredible turn on for me. Gunnar swiftly removed his soiled jockstrap from my mouth and tossed it onto the floor of the bathroom, landing with a loud splat. Feeling him above me, surrounding me, taking over all my senses, gave me a profound sense of fulfillment and completion. I wanted so desperately to belong to him, to surrender myself entirely to him.
Gunnar’s warm lips found their way to my neck, slowly kissing my smooth skin as he gently thrust his cock inside me, back and forth, only withdrawing half his length at most as he massaged my spent prostate.
“You did that on purpose, huh?” Gunnar asked. “You wanted me to rape that ass, wanted to feel me use you like a toy.”
Hearing him use that word sent chills down my spine, enticing me to arch my hips in response to each of his gentle thrusts around his hardening cock, encouraging him to continue the motions.
“I did,” I answered with honesty, moaning as he continued fucking me slowly. “You’re so big. I love it. I fucking love it.”
He continued kissing my neck, nuzzling his bearded face against me. His presence was above me, around me and inside me, my entire universe.
“You’re gonna clean my cock off like a good fag,” Gunnar told me as he finally ceased his thrusting. “If you’re lucky, I’ll let you suck another load out.”
He swiftly withdrew himself from me, separating our bodies as the ambient air rushed in to cool us off. His rapid removal of his cock seemed to almost knock the wind out of me. He expected me to finish the job, and I was learning, servicing Gunnar included making sure his cock would remain presentable. I was a fag for him, and if he wanted me to wrap my lips around his cum-soaked monster, I would gratefully comply.
Gunnar rolled over to his side of the bed, gripping his cock and holding it up in anticipation of the service I was expected to provide. His nonchalant, sure-of-himself attitude about his perfect cock was beyond hot to me. He knew he had a cock deserving of unwavering worship. He was a complete alpha male to the fullest, and expected my fag mouth to do his bidding. I turned over on my side to admire his awesome, hairy body, my eyes quickly locking onto the head of his glistening cock.
“Look at that fucking cock,” he remarked, shaking his semi hard meat a bit. “I bet you wanna gag on it, huh?”
My face gave away the game. I stared in awe at his perfect cock as it began to harden again. I couldn’t tell if he was becoming aroused by his anticipation of my service or from the true magnificence of his own cock. It was truly the most delicious meat I’d even seen. So long, thick and smooth. I swear its girth was almost that of a soda can. It had to be close, because I was able to open my jaw pretty wide, and it took a lot of effort for me to avoid grazing his skin with my teeth, even when I covered my teeth with my lips to protect him.
“Gonna stare at it or you gonna do something about it?” Gunnar taunted. “You ain’t done yet, faggot.”
He had a big, shit-eating grin on his face. He enjoyed making me pleasure him the way he wanted. And he knew I would be completely obedient. He knew he was the alpha male of alpha males.
I quickly adjusted myself, coming face-to-face with his glorious, rock hard cock. I was in awe of its beauty and size. I provided him the service he expected, opening my mouth wide and shoving my head down its length until it pressed against my tonsils. The way he kept hammering my hole as he came inside me had coated his length with a thick layer of his cream. I enjoyed swallowing cum, feeling the warm fluid pulse into my belly or to the back of my throat where I’d promptly swallow, but this was new to me. It occurred to me that the best way to get the job done was to force myself to the base and clean my way back up. So, naturally, as a proper fag would, I took in a deep breath, opened my throat up and slammed myself down, burying my face into his sweaty crotch.
“Fuck yeah,” he moaned, resting a hand atop my head in approval. “Throat that monster. Oh my god, you are such a cock thirsty fag.”
He was clearly pleased as my tight throat engulfed him. But he had no intention of allowing me to carry out my plan of cleaning off his cock slowly. As I tried to bring myself up to begin working his length, I met resistance from his hand. He kept my head down as I looked into his eyes for approval, massaging his shaft by swallowing around him and running my long tongue constantly over the thickness. If my airway hadn’t been completely blocked, he would have heard me moaning as I gently humped the soft sheets below me to stimulate my hardened member. To Gunnar, he saw a faggot cocksucker getting off just from invading his throat. I must have looked like a thirsty little slut who wasn’t worth the air I breathed. As far as I was concerned, my holes were a cheap fleshlight for him to use as he desired.
Gunnar released my head, enabling me to withdraw from his cock and catch my breath, propping myself up on my elbows. I wanted him to use my throat. It was certainly sore, but the faggy g-spot in my throat was itching for his use, to feel my body expand to accommodate his abuse. I was hard again and horny, looking upon his perfection. I was wondering what he would do if I begged him to fuck my throat with all his might. Would he deliver the abuse that a thirst fag needed? Welp, only one way to find out.
“Please sir,” I begged, bowing my head toward his alpha cock. “Rape my throat. Please, sir.”
Gunnar laughed loudly, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. He absolutely was enjoying seeing me pathetically beg for him to brutalize me without mercy. My mouth was open as I was nearly panting in heat and desperation. I didn’t understand where I got the strength to actually ask him to rape me, divulging my dark fantacies. It was almost involuntary. All I knew was that I liked it rough. I liked being forced. I liked giving complete control over to an alpha male who knew how to properly use me. I was so lucky. Any true faggot should yearn for Gunnar’s cruel treatment. And Gunnar was absolutely a user in that way.
“Get your mouth on my cock,” he commanded. “Hands behind your back, cocksucker.”
I immediately obeyed, wrapping my lips around his leaking cockhead and placing my wrist together behind my back as he made me do before. Without my arms to help keep me suspended over his pelvis, there was literally nothing I could do to escape my own weight bringing me further down his shaft to force my face back into his hairy crotch. I just let myself begin to choke and gag around him, spitting up around his shaft as I lingered, treating his pelvis as a pillow.
Gunnar’s hand found its usual spot on my head to apply a vice-grip thru my hair. He adjusted himself up onto his knees as his unbreakable grip on my head jerked me around to keep his cock buried to the balls, spitting up even more throat slime as his meat rotated inside me. He was having to hold my head where he wanted it due to my total lack of control from my posture, and it was quite uncomfortable. The discomfort served as a welcome reminder of my place. He had just watched me worshipping his awesome visage and practically begged for his abuse without mercy. To force me. To rape me. But, of course, it couldn’t possibly be rape. We were both absolutely willing. Gunnar was willing to savagely force me to service him. And I was willing to receive his devastating treatment. I said the words. I asked for his unforgiving usage. I didn’t realize it at that time, but he was going to give me a relentless, animalistic throat pounding and refuse to let up. Gunnar was going to pleasure himself mercilessly in my cocksucking mouth. There would be no escape until he was satisfied. No safe words. Only my complete submission.
Gunnar withdrew himself just enough for me to breathe again. I immediately coughed around him, some of the expelled throat slime, and I’m sure some of his precum, spewed from my nose, landing back on Gunnar’s exposed length.
“You asked for this,” Gunnar said in his sexy, deep voice, an ominous sign of what he would unleash upon me.
I did. I wanted it. I needed it. I begged for it.
He grasped my wrists together as he had done before, effortlessly gripping them together with his big, strong hand. I was trapped. I looked up into his eyes, an almost evil smile on his face. Lord have mercy, even the looks on his face were a turn on to me. His eyes were piercing into me, communicating his intentions.
With his first quick thrust, he held himself in for a moment before pulling out to let me breathe again. Truthfully, I know it was to aid in his pleasure and was less about my comfort. His second thrust was when it truly began. It led swiftly into a third, then another and another. His thrusts were powerful and fast. I was managing to breathe thru his rhythm, but not enough to maintain it. The clock had started. Gunnar continued relentlessly, enjoying my warm, tight throat. He was jerking my head towards his crotch to meet each thrust and pulling it away as he withdrew. All I could do was continue to choke, gag and spit up around him thru my nose. My eyes were watering to the point that my vision was clouded, seeing his crotch approach my face over and over in a blur.
“Take it, faggot!” Gunnar shouted in that primal voice which was new to me. “You’re taking it til I’m done. Fuckin’ cockwhore! How’s it feel to get your throat raped, huh?”
I couldn’t help but gyrate my hips to rub my leaking cock against the sheets. I loved everything about his treatment. His verbal degradation, his total usage, I loved it.
My mind flashed images of what it looked like when I would use my fleshlight. The way I’d repeatedly slam it down into my crotch nonstop as hard as I could. I imagined that was what Gunnar was seeing from his point of view. A free-use hole to use to his fullest satisfaction. The room was filled with sounds of my quiet struggles, his loud grunts and moans and the repeated slaps of his heavy balls against my face and chin.
Time was running out. My air supply was depleting. I couldn’t stop myself from trying to get my hands free to push myself off his meat. It was hopeless. He wasn’t about to release my hands. He told me I would have to take it til he was done, and no part of me believed he would do anything but exactly that.
“What’s the matter? Can’t breathe?” He was enjoying himself immensely, mocking my resistance as he savagely pounded my throat for all it was worth.
Finally, I was given my opportunity to catch my breath. It was very short lived, only gaining about a gasp and a half of air before he went in for the finale. Gunnar moved even closer to me, his firm, hairy thighs clamping down on either side of my head to further restrain me. I couldn’t hear. I could only see in blurs thru my watering eyes. I couldn’t move. The only senses I truly had to focus on were my own excited member and his giant cock stretching my sore throat.
With his new posture, Gunnar couldn’t pull out past my throat, leaving me perpetually impaled. He was gyrating his hips fast and hard, only withdrawing a few inches before bottoming out again. His grunts and growls were getting louder and deeper. His movements became more erratic. He was getting, and so was I. But it wasn’t a load of cum I was getting close to shooting, it was something entirely different. My air supply was again diminishing, decreasing faster than before. I could feel myself losing strength to try to pull myself free to be able to breathe. My vision was getting blurrier. My thoughts were becoming jumbled and I couldn’t focus them. It was akin to standing up too fast and getting those head spinnies. I had only felt that way once before when he made me take his piss into my stomach. I wasn’t sure what was happening.
I was entering the first stage of passing out. I was suffocating. My oxygen supply was almost out. Gunnar was using my throat so savagely and deep.
I got lucky. He was cumming.
I couldn’t tell how many pulses there were before he quickly yanked his cock out, but he must have saved enough. My mouth free of his invader, I breathed in as hard as I could, feeling my head rush as I clenched my eyes shut. I was disoriented. I was recovering from the edge of passing out. My mouth was wide open as I regained my breath, Gunnar jerking his cock to finalize his orgasm and unload every drop after releasing my bound wrists, keeping his grip on my head. He was a hard shooter. It was the first time I truly felt the powerful blasts of cum from his monster. He aimed every remaining shot at the back of my mouth, painting my orifice with his white, hot cum. There was so much of it. I had recovered well enough from the ordeal by that point to be able to gauge how much he deposited into my mouth. I lost count of the actual number of jets that blasted out, but it was enough that my mouth was filling up quick. It tasted like, well, cum. But not just any cum. It was the cum of Gunnar, a true apex predator, who had demonstrated to me what it was like to be raped from both ends.
“You better swallow it all, bitch,” he warned, as he placed the tip of his spent, hard cock back into my mouth to make sure I didn’t miss a drop.
There was no universe where I wouldn’t have swallowed gratefully. I wrapped my lips around his cockhead, sucking enthusiastically as I swallowed every bit of my reward, moaning like a slut as I did so. It was exactly what I needed. I continued to hump the sheets to encourage myself to cum. It was one of those cums where my eye lids clamped shut involuntarily and twitched from the pleasure. I was beyond spent. I was drained, thoroughly used, sore in both ends, and Gunnar’s hot, softening cockhead was still between my lips.
Gunnar slowly removed himself from my mouth and I almost immediately collapsed from exhaustion onto the bed, wiping my eyes of any tears to clear them up. I just lay there, breathing deep.
Gunnar assumed a position next to me, parallel to me, facing me on his side. I looked into his piercing eyes, admiring his sexy face and full cheeks. And that neck of his. My goodness, it was so thick, the perfect size to connect his gorgeous face and huge body. I wanted his approval. I wanted to know that he enjoyed using me. I rolled onto my side to face him, our semi hard cocks pointing to each other. His muscles seemed to call my name as I reached out to slowly caress his thick, bulky triceps, squeezing gently to massage him, to worship his perfection. Gunnar reciprocated, resting his hand upon my neck and shoulder, softly squeezing my own muscles with a soft smile on his face.
Gunnar leaned in towards my face, obviously to press his lips against my own. I arched my head away in defense for his own sake.
“Uh-uh,” I said thru a scratchy voice. “There’s like cum and shit all over my face.”
I was embarrassed that I wasn’t presentable in that way. I wanted him to get only the best from me, not some sloppy mess of a face. Grody. He responded silently, moving his caressing hand from my shoulder to my chin to coax me to look back to him. We met eyes and he gave me a big, heart-warming smile. He began to extend his arm, pressed beneath him and against the mattress, over towards my head, encouraging me to lift my head a bit so he could fully extend his arm and supply my head with a pillow thru his bulky bicep. It exposed his thick forest of hair in his arm pit. So fucking manly and glorious. True perfection. My admiring gaze was broken by his kiss. His hand left my chin, resting his palm over my cheek as his fingers ran thru my hair. His big tongue quickly began to dance with my own as he devoured my lips as he usually did. He didn’t seem to mind at all. I imagine he liked it because it served as a reminder of the intense intimacy we shared, an intimacy that continued thru to that very moment.
Gunnar broke the kiss slowly, keeping his hand on my cheek.
“I can’t believe you took me so rough like that,” he said.
I smiled, fulfilled that I provided him so much pleasure.
“I’ve had a rape fantasy since I started jerking off,” I admitted, feeling confident enough to divulge my darkest desires. “I probably should have tried it with a smaller cock first, though.”
My attempt to keep it light-hearted was successful as Gunnar and I shared a laugh.
“It’s so hot hearing you squeal like a bitch,” he remarked, his sure-of-himself alpha male attitude resurfacing to the forefront. “Something about the way you struggle makes me wanna go harder.”
We were arousing ourselves again, as was made evident when our hardening members touched. I bit my lip. Holy shit he was so fucking hot. Even after dropping two loads, we were both getting off on this. I instinctively gyrated my hips at the thought of feeling his invader deep inside me.
“I like it when you make me take it,” I said thru my self-confidence.
“I can tell,” Gunnar responded with a wink and a grin.
His huge hand moved away from my face and to our touching cocks, easily encompassing both our thick meats as he jerked back and forth slowly. His hand was so wonderfully warm and I found it even hotter that his precum was being rubbed onto my cock. I let out a sigh of pleasure, enjoying the sensation of his pleasuring hand and the heat radiating into my member from his own.
“You like getting used,” he taunted me in a deep voice, obviously knowing he was turning me on. “Love it when I call you faggot cocksucker, huh?”
“Yes, sir,” I admitted. “I love being your faggot.”
Our mutual dirty talk was getting me off, big time.
“I loved it when you made me take your piss,” I said in heat like a good little slut.
He gave me a shit-eating grin, clearly pleased to hear me admit my enjoyment of his use. He increased the tempo of his jerking motions.
“Don’t worry,” he said with the confidence that only a pure alpha male could. “You’ll be taking it on a regular fuckin’ basis.”
“Yes, please,” I begged as I met his jerking with my own thrusts, staring into his thick, forested armpit as the manly scent waffed into my nose.
Gunnar must have seen me staring. He adjusted his arm which I was using as a pillow to pull me towards his hairy pit. He was quick about it, too, forcing my head closer and closer as he slightly tilted his torso to expose more of it. I didn’t have to be encouraged any further. I dove in, covering the small distance with haste and longing. I buried my nose into his arm pit, breathing in his awesome, manly sweat. The smell was a bit sour as expected from a sweaty pit. I expended my tongue out, licking at his salty skin and hair, tasting his testosterone-fueled sweat.
“Fuckin breathe that shit it,” Gunnar ordered. “Can’t get enough, can you?”
“Mm-mmm,” I moaned, declaring my desire to keep enjoying his manliness.
Gunnar allowed me to fully bury my face in his arm pit, its vastness seeming to surround my face completely. I continued to lick the salty area, rubbing my face up and down.
“Roll over,” Gunnar directed. “On your back.”
I did as he commanded. I deprived myself of his sweaty pit as I stared back at it with longing, feeling deprived of its glory. I assumed my assigned position, rolling onto my back as he pulled his arm away from its pillow-like posture for my head. Gunnar released our cocks from his hand as he sat up. I immediately lifted my legs, spreading them wide assuming he was going to impale me again. Fortunately, my hole was very well lubed from his prior usage, but I was extremely sore from the merciless pounding he delivered.
“Shit, you are one hungry fuckin’ fag,” he laughed, aiming his precum soaked tip at my enterance.
He began to prod at my hole, but not hard enough to breach it. Our eyes locked for a moment. He swiftly leaned down, my legs staying separated by his body as he leaned down, holding himself up on one of his elbows.
“Here, have some more,” he said as he shoved one of his sweaty pits against my face.
I whimpered like a little slut, realizing it was the pit which I had yet to explore. I instantly began to inhale it, my vision completely blocked by its enormity as it surrounded my face. He let his weight firmly plant himself onto my face, almost devouring me.
“Breathe that shit in, faggot,” he encouraged.
I moaned in appreciation, transforming into a loud gasp of discomfort and pain as he brutally slammed his entire cock back into my guts, escalating my gasp into squeal. It was a swift, violent thrust which I’d come to expect from him. I was so sore from his previous punishing pounding, and had no real heads up of his intentions to enter me until his huge balls were pressed against me. He immediately proceeded to pound away, long-dicking me as he completely hammered my worn, well used hole. With each invading thrust, I gasped and whimpered, encouraging me to take more and more pleasure in my worship of his sweaty pit. His presence surrounded me, inside and out.
“How’s it feel, queerboy?” Gunnar asked, taunting me as he savagely used my aching hole.
I could only deliver a muffled response thru his pit as he used it as an all-natural fag-gag, remarking how much I wanted him to use me. It might have been painful, but there was also the expected mixture of pleasure from my prostate being massaged and the deep space inside me being repeatedly breached.
One thing was certain. Gunnar could fuck and fuck and fuck, load after load and still pound away with seemingly unnatural strength that could only come from a true alpha male. It was something to behold, something that anybody should consider a privilege to experience. And Gunnar decided that I was, indeed, privileged enough to receive his treatment. I wrapped my arms around him as he fucked me like a toy, allowing myself to be swept away by his powerful presence against my face, thru my hands, against my body and deep inside me. If that was heaven, I never wanted to leave.
Absolute faggot heaven.
Our bodies glistened with sweat. I felt sweat accumulate thru the hairs of his arm pit and I greedily licked it up.
“I’m gonna cum,” he shouted, vibrating his voice thru my body.
He delivered his final full thrust, using my tight guts to carry him to the end of his orgasm. He was panting. He must have pushed himself to maintain his powerful, rapid thrusts. I was moaning thru each breath as my aching hole unintentionally continued massaging him.
As much as I gasped when he forcefully entered me, I gasped even louder as he yanked his length out of me, exposing my gaping hole to the cool air. In the process, he lifted himself off my face, depriving my face of his sweaty pit. I was turned on and leaking precum from my cock and his man juice from my gaping hole. There was no way we could sleep on that mattress that night, at least not without changing the sheets. Gunnar kept a waterproof liner under the fitted sheet, so at least the mattress itself was safe.
Gunnar rolled over onto his back next to me, satisfied and freshly creamed.
“Fuck!” he said loudly. “Your holes drive me crazy.”
I stared at the ceiling, wondering how difficult it would be to jerk another load out of me with being aided by an invasion of his monster cock. I had already cum twice, so I knew that I wouldn’t have a hard time falling asleep and letting my cock soften. But my job wasn’t done. He needed to be cleaned off.
Gunnar didn’t have the opportunity to direct me to provide a cleaning service as I moved myself into position, my head over his belly button as I engulfed his cum-covered cock with my mouth.
“Fuck yeah,” Gunnar sighed. “Good fag.”
His praise of my service invigorated me. I made sure to suck and lick every drop off his shaft until only my saliva was left on his glistening cock.
“C’mon,” Gunnar gestured towards the bathroom. “We should get cleaned up.”
I removed my mouth from his semi hard cock, licking my lips clean of any remaining cum. He was right. We were both sticky, sweaty and covered in man juices. We were raunchy boys who needed to clean up.
We both stood up, my legs shaky, and made our way towards the master bathroom. His jockstrap adorned the floor as a wonderful reminder of having it shoved into my mouth to gag me.
“Hold up,” I said. “Gonna grab my wash.”
I left the room to grab my bodywash from the hallway bathroom. I was not about to reapply the wrong wash to my body as I had that morning. I might have loved Gunnar’s smell, but it was specifically his manly sweat and scent. I heard thru the wall the sound of his shower starting. I promptly returned with my wash.
Gunnar laughed loudly seeing me bring in my wash.
“What’s wrong with my soap?” Gunnar asked teasingly.
I looked at him, both of us smiling at the hilarity.
“It’s not my smell,” I laughed.
I stepped into the warm water with him as we shared the stream. Gunnar’s hand grasped his cock, aiming it towards the drain. I felt an immediate desire to get onto my knees, hoping he was about to piss and maybe giving me a chance to take it in my mouth. I was still horny since I hadn’t cum yet, so I began to jerk myself off. I quietly got onto my knees before him, opening my mouth only an inch away from his cockhead, yearning to feel his hot stream. Gunnar was clearly oblivious to this.
The stream began, jetting straight into my mouth. It wasn’t exactly a taste I enjoyed, but knowing its source was Gunnar made it something that I absolutely enjoyed and cherished. I started to swallow as much as I could, but needed a better way to receive the stream. So, naturally, I moved in closer and locked my lips around his cockhead.
Gunnar gasped quietly, opening his eyes as he looked down into my own, seeing me looking up to him as I tried to serve him. His look of surprise quickly turned into a look of enjoyment at seeing me willingly take his hot stream into my mouth without being instructed to do so.
“God, you’re such a thirsty little bitch,” he laughed, placing a hand on my head to shove my face hard against his body. “Dirty fuckin’ fag.”
I jerked myself rapidly, getting off on being his urinal. His cock enlarged to its semi hard state, providing more than enough firmness and length to push it into my tight throat. His stream continued. I no longer had to swallow since his piss was jetting directly into my esophagus and to my stomach as our eyes remained locked. It was like the flow was a trigger for me to release my load. I came hard, clenching my eyes shut as I felt it shoot out like a fountain. The high of my orgasm subsided just as he finished unloading his bladder. He released my head but I kept my face against him for a few more seconds to enjoy his cock.
“If I didn’t know any better,” he started in a confident voice. “I think you like being my piss slut.”
I pulled my head away and stood up on my weakened legs. I stumbled a bit but Gunnar caught me in his arms, pulling me against his huge body, face-to-face, my own arms following suit to wrap around him as best they could. I felt a profound sense of completion. We gazed into each other’s eyes, as one of his hands made its way to the back of head.
“You feelin’ okay?” Gunnar asked in a soft voice.
“Yeah,” I replied in an equally soft voice. “I love you, Gunnar.”
“I love you too, Chris.”
He softly placed his lips against mine in a simple kiss before resting his forehead against mine. His hand moved away from my head and returned to settle on my back, squeezing tight. The embrace ended and we continued with our shower.
After drying off, we went towards our respective dressers to put on some briefs. I looked at the spare bed and figured it was the easiest place for us to go to sleep. It was a queen mattress, and the fit might have been a bit tight for two men, but it would be adequate. The soiled, cum covered sheets of Gunnar’s bed were unfit to lay upon. I departed the room, heading back down the hall to witness him about to hop into his bed. Oh hell nah. No sir. Not gonna happen.
“Uh-uh,” I said in a raised voice, capturing his attention as he hauled his movements, standing at the side of the bed.
He gave me a surprised look with his brows raised.
“You are not sleeping on that sheet,” I asserted. “We can sleep in the spare room.”
“What's the big deal?” Gunnar asked, raising a hand in confusion.
“That thing is nasty,” I told him. “Not just no, but fuck no.”
I walked over to him and grabbed his hand, chuckling as I did so. I pulled him along, leading him away and out of the room which smelled of male sweat and sex.
“It's not that bad, Chris,” he tried to argue as he followed behind me.
I laughed out loud, looking back to his eyes.
“Boy, have you lost your mind cuz I'll help you find it,” I said jokingly, quoting from a TV show we often watched together.
“I guess you're right,” Gunnar yielded under his breath as we approached the much cleaner spare bed.
I turned off the bedroom light and closed the door, the only illumination coming from the bright moon as it reflected onto the closed drapes. We crawled into bed together, Gunnar being quick to shove his body against mine, spooning comfortably and sending his wonderful body heat thru my skin. I was disappointed that my sheets weren't as ripe as his own. I loved his smell with a passion. And being freshly showered, the source of his strong scent had been completely washed away.
I sighed, basking in his warmth as his thick arm draped over my small body and his bearded lips nuzzled against my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He was my everything. My universe. We settled in to fall asleep. We had both cum three times that night and had quite a bit to drink.
—-------------------------
I stood there by the bed of my old apartment room. My clothes were loaded into the truck and all that was left was my box of personal memorabilia. Pictures of my mother and I when I was young, some of Heather, Jack and myself with my roommate… old roommate. I flashed to memories, warm ones and sad ones, reliving a lot of the hardships I’d been through.
Gunnar walked into the room and stood next to me, resting his arm around my shoulder as I showed him some of the items.
“Mom,” I indicated to the picture we were looking at. “I miss her.”
Gunnar was quiet, rubbing his comforting hand over my back.
“We’ll need to get some pics of us and Blake,” Gunnar said softly.
“I love him so much,” I said. “He deserves the world.”
I lingered for a moment, placing the lid back onto the box and stood there, hesitant to leave one of the few places that had significance to me. My roommate… old roommate and best friend, Nathan, helped me thru much of my sorrows when I was growing up. We got into the apartment when he was 18 and I was 16. He was a consistent positive force in my life.
Blake and Gunnar had also been one of the best things to happen to me. Working for them led to where I was that day. And now, I was hardly working for them, instead working with them as a household member.
“You about ready?” Gunnar asked, anxious to make our 12:00 deadline to pick Blake up from his sleepover.
“Yeah,” I affirmed as I picked up the box. “I’m ready.”
We slowly made our way to his truck, placing the box on the floor of the back seat before hopping into the passenger seat where Gunnar had started the engine.
“So much is different,” I stated. “I sure won’t miss those neighbors.”
I tried to lighten my mood with a bit of humor.
“Let’s go home,” Gunnar said, shifting the vehicle into gear.
Home. I was going home. Not sure what the future had in store, I did know for certain: I was going home with Gunnar, the Alpha Male.
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