Dario’s place was a ten-minute walk from the club and overlooked the sea. A dream home for someone who had grown up in a second-hand trailer in a bad part of a derelict mining town. The climb up the stairwell had me on edge. Dario had let me in first and trailed behind me as I marched up the narrow space. At 6’4”, with enough muscle to punch my way through a group of well-trained football players, the walls were too close.
I managed to breathe again when I stepped into Dario’s entryway. A small carpet with a calligraphed “Ciao” written on it welcomed me, along with a small lamp he’d left on.
My legs trembled, threatening to give way as I understood what I was about to do. What I had tried so hard to keep locked away. I could’ve turned back, but my own curiosity pushed me forward.
Inside, the terra-cotta tiles clashed with old furniture that had been sanded and oiled to retain its natural flair. The scent of money was strongest in the living room, where brown leather couches faced a gigantic flat-screen.
“Wow,” I uttered, feeling out of place.
“Make yourself comfortable, lose the shoes, the clothes, everything,” Dario commanded me.
There were no demands, no hesitation. He unbuttoned his shirt, and it flowed in the breeze coming from the open French doors.
His abs were framed by dark hair that also covered his chest. Not too much, not too little. I had taken to plucking out my hair years ago, enjoying the sensation of smooth skin. The sight of Dario’s hairy body struck me as another sign of power.
My clothes became an armor I was afraid to remove.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” He asked, impatient but calm.
“I’m sorry, I don’t think…” My eyes fluttered to the floor. “I don’t think this is right.”
Dario smiled, walked toward me, and cradled my nape. “Then, why are you here?”
“You-You’re just so hot…”
“Then, you want me,” Dario massaged my neck. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m not going to touch you, for now. But I want to see you.”
“You want to watch me?” I asked, dumbfounded, arousal pooling in my crotch.
“Fuck yeah, boy. Prime American beef is standing in my living room. I want a whole show!” Dario proclaimed, his eyes wrinkling with malice. “If you don’t want to do it, you’re free to walk out of that door. But…” He leaned closer to my ear and whispered. “Imagine how much fun we will have if you decide to be mine while you’re in town.”
“What… does it mean?” I stuttered.
“I get to play with you, teach you a trick or two. Who knows, maybe you’ll want to stay longer than you’d planned.”
“You’re the type of person who gets what he wants,” I confirmed, looking around. “You gotta be.”
“That’s how I get nice things. That’s how anyone gets anything.” Dario turned and walked to the couch before sitting in it. “Strip for me.”
His eyes were fixed, unwavering. I bowed my head instinctively and stared back up, giving myself a mental slap.
“You want me so bad, huh?” I asked, touching myself as a way to regain some form of control. “You want to fuck me?”
“So bad.”
“Why?”
“Seeing you fight that guy at the club,” Dario sighed, and his face flushed pink. “So much power, raw strength. You’re the type of guy I like training. Wild, free, ready to fight anyone who gives them shit. But also the type of man who needs a firm hand and discipline.”
I loved the accent; it was doing most of the work, making Dario even sexier.
Call me basic, but it did.
The only time I’d gotten close to sucking a guy’s cock was at a gym locker room somewhere in Slovenia, but I had slipped between the dude’s fingers before he could make me kneel.
His big, uncut cock had been so attractive, so juicy. But fear had been stronger.
Not this time, though. Who would know that I had stripped naked for another guy? And even if it got out, who the fuck would care?
Being alone had its perks.
Fear left the room for good, and I popped the buttons of my white shirt open. My cock throbbed harder as each button came undone, and when I took it off, I noticed smears of red lipstick on the collar.
I had gone out for pussy, and I was about to end up with dick.
“Just throw it wherever,” Dario instructed. “Unbuckle the belt, let’s free that cock.”
I kept my mouth shut and did as I was told.
“How big is it?” Dario suddenly asked, smirking.
“7.5 inches.”
“Cut, or uncut?”
“You’re about to find out,” I replied.
“Just answer the question,” Dario said, his chest heaving.
“Cut,” I answered shyly.
He hummed to himself and rose from the couch. His movements were slow and measured, as if he were afraid he’d drive me away if he moved any faster. The shudder going through my body proved he might’ve been right. Then, he cupped my balls through my jeans and dragged his palm along my shaft.
“Nice cock, then,” Dario said, “When did you fuck someone with it?”
“Three days… Four days ago,” I mumbled, turning a hot shade of red.
“What did she look like?”
“Huh, red hair, nice ass… Small, but firm boobs.”
“Do you think you’ll enjoy getting fucked as much as she did?” Dario asked, meeting my eyes fiercely. “Would you bend over for me?”
I did not pull away; to my horror, I realized I would. Dario’s sweet, suntanned skin, the smell of his sweat, and the bump in his pants drew me closer to him. “You promise you won’t hurt me?”
“What could harm a big boy like you?” He licked my neck, and I leaned into him. “You’re the one choosing this.”
“Yes,” I panted.
“You’ve always wanted cock.” He affirmed.
“I…”
“On your knees,” Dario ordered, unzipping his pants to reveal a huge slab of meat. “A bit bigger than yours. Not by much, but enough to make your throat sore.”
I sank to my knees and stared at the cockhead peeking at me under the foreskin protecting it. It was moist and smelled of man musk and precum. Clean but primal. I looked up at Dario, words caught in my throat.
“I-I…” I stuttered, my eyes flicking to the floor.
“Don’t speak, be good.”
Those words prompted me to grab my dick, but Dario seized my jaw and dug his fingertips into it.
“You touch yourself only when I allow you to,” Dario slapped me across the face with his meat. “Taste it.”
Without thinking, I stuck out my tongue and tasted another man’s cock for the first time. Dario’s length slid deeper into my throat, as I kept my hands flat on my muscular thighs. My own dick throbbed and leaked, and the need to jerk myself to completion grew as Dario took over my senses.
He filled my throat, thick and powerful. The smell of his sweat turned me into a whore.
Exposed and enslaved, that’s how kneeling to the floor in front of a man felt. A little voice in my head screamed at me, begging me to stop, but I kept swallowing what he offered me.
“Cazzo,” Dario panted, grabbing my head to push me further down his dick. “Good cocksucker!”
I was in too deep to run… Or was I?
As Dario’s cockhead hit the back of my throat, my gag reflex kicked in and forced me to pull away.
I coughed. A long string of saliva connected my mouth to Dario’s manhood, who was looking down at me with a smile and an arched brow.
“I can’t do this,” I stammered, getting back up. “Sorry!”
I began to gather my things, my cock still shamefully hard, my balls tight.
Dario put his hands on his hips, the tip of his wet cock half covered by its foreskin. I couldn’t help but take a hungry peek at it, but I chose to ignore the urge to get back on my knees to worship it.
Why did it feel so right?
So wrong, too…
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself a few seconds ago,” he said softly, staying at a distance.
A hint of doubt, worry even, quickly flashed in his eyes before he caught himself.
“I wasn’t,” I lied, “I’m just too drunk to think.”
“No, you’re not,” Dario replied with a chuckle. “But it’s all right. You’re confused, but you’ll come around.”
“I don’t think I will,” I said, zipping up my pants.
Then Dario walked to a drawer and retrieved a small black card with gold accents. On it was written his name, a phone number, and the name of a real estate agency that Dario most likely owned.
“You want to sell me a place?”
“No, it’s so you have my number when you’re ready to accept who you are.”
I gulped and frowned. “And what is it?”
“A good submissive jock whose purpose is to serve.”
I scoffed, shoved the card in my back pocket, and stormed out of Dario’s luxurious apartment without another word.
The night air did little to soothe my seething skin, and the tightness in my pants was there to remind me of what I had just done. How I had acted. I could still feel Dario all over me, inside me, and beneath the dirty feeling and the filth was something else.
The need to do it again.
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