I heard it first through the wall. Low, guttural, masculine moaning; thick with tension. Not porn. Not fake. Real. Rhythmic. Deep and primal. It made my skin buzz.
I was wet and dripping from the shower, towel barely on, scrolling Grindr out of boredom. That sound turned something on in me. So I paused. Focused. Waited.
The moaning started again. Slow strokes. Labored breathing. A faint slap of skin on skin. Someone was jerking off. Loudly. Shamelessly.
And when I opened Grindr and refreshed, I saw him.
ThickLoadz.
9 feet away.
That meant he was right there: either next door or across the hallway of the hotel I was staying at. The pic was bold: shirtless, sweaty, bearded, cocky smirk and a body like a fucking tank. Thick pecs, inked shoulder, shaved head, heavy chest hair, those thick forearms holding the phone. My towel dropped on its own. and I was rock hard just from seeing his profile picture.
His profile bio?
“Built for your throat. Quickies.. 9 inches. Bearded. I host”
I bit my lip and hit message:
Too bad you're jerking off alone.
Look at my bio
My username: Throatgoat
My bio: Only one way to know for sure.
A few seconds later, he replied:
Throat goat, huh?
How do I know you’re not just another mouth that chokes halfway?
I smirked. My fingers flew:
I don’t gag.
I swallow pride, ego, and every last drop for hot men like you.
The typing bubble flickered. Then:
Room 418, cutie.
Come and prove it.
I didn’t even towel off properly. My hair was still damp from the shower, skin warm, chest flushed. I just grabbed the first t-shirt I saw and stepped into a random pair of boxers crumpled near the bed. No socks. No shoes. Still half-hard.
I crossed the hall barefoot, heart hammering.
Turned the knob.
Open**.**
Inside, the room was dim. Single lamp. AC humming. And there he was.
Mr. ThickLoadz
On the bed. Shirtless. Big. Thick thighs spread. One arm propped behind his head like he owned the place. The other wrapped tight around his massive cock and fuck, it was big. Veiny, leaking, halfway hard again just from seeing me.
He didn’t say a word. Just watched me close the door and slide the lock into place behind me. He was exactly how I imagined; hot, shirtless, sprawled out on the bed like he owned it, one thick arm behind his head, the other wrapped lazily around his cock. It glistened with pre, half-hard but pulsing. His thighs were wide, his abs flexing slightly with every breath, and that beard framed a mouth I was already imagining around every part of me.
“You’re the loud one?” I said quietly, stepping into the room.
He smirked. “You heard me, didn’t you?”
“I came running.”
He looked me over, head tilted slightly, like he was reading every inch. My damp hair. My bare feet. The cheap t-shirt clinging to my still-warm chest. The way the fabric of my boxers was already tented and slightly wet.
“Didn’t even finish getting dressed?”
“Didn’t seem necessary.”
His eyes darkened. His cock twitched in his hand. “Take it off.”
I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and peeled it over my head in one motion. Dropped it on the floor next to me. I stepped out of my boxers without a word. They were already halfway down from how hard I was.
Fully exposed now. Hard. Leaking. His eyes stayed glued to my body like he was deciding which part to use first. He shifted back slightly against the pillows and nodded at the space between his legs. “Get comfortable.”
I didn’t hesitate. I climbed onto the bed slowly, knees sinking into the mattress as I moved up between his thick thighs. The heat of him hit me immediately; body flushed, cock huge in his fist, that rough scent of skin and sweat and testosterone.
“Throat goat, huh?” he muttered, cocking an eyebrow. “You better live up to that name.”
I leaned in slowly, letting my breath graze over the head of his cock before my lips ever touched it. Just the anticipation made him grunt. I dragged the flat of my tongue across the tip, tasting the slick bead of precum waiting for me. He moaned louder, hips shifting slightly.
I teased him first; took the shaft like it was a lollipop. Nibbled gently with my lips, kissed up and down the sides, dragging my mouth along him like I was savoring dessert. Then I slurped at the tip again, letting the precoat my tongue.
He laughed, head tipped back against the headboard. “Fuck, that’s cute.”
I smiled up at him, then flattened my tongue and dragged it from the base of his cock up along the underside, letting it slide down the center of my face. His cock twitched, thick and wet, leaking even more.
Precum mixed with my spit and dripped down my chin, long shiny strings connecting me to him as I stayed low between his legs. It made a mess across my cheeks, wet and obscene.
He looked down at me, eyes dark and amused. “You are nasty.”
“Oh, I’m just getting warmed up,” I murmured, lips brushing the head again.
I wrapped my mouth around just the tip, sucked gently, teasing the slit with my tongue while he watched me. My hand stayed wrapped around the base, stroking slowly, syncing with my mouth. I let the moment stretch. I loved the tension in his thighs, the way his abs flexed every time I dragged my tongue in a slow circle.
He groaned and shifted his hips, legs spreading wider around me. “You gonna keep playing with the tip, or actually...”
Before he could finish that sentence, I took a breath and opened wide. Then I sank down. All the way. His cock slid past my lips, past my tongue, down my throat. I swallowed around it, my nose pressing against the scratch of his pubes.
That shut him up.
“Holy fucking shit....” His voice cracked mid-sentence. One hand flew to the back of my head, fingers digging into my hair. “Jesus Christ, you’re crazy.”
I stayed right there. Motionless. Buried deep.
With barely any space left in my mouth, cock still stuffed down my throat, I started to move my tongue; swirling it against the underside of his shaft. Then I angled down slightly, still gagging around him, and let my tongue stretch as far as it could just enough to flick the top of one of his balls.
He jolted. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He panted like he’d just been punched. “That’s… that’s new. No one’s ever...shit...ever done that.”
His whole body trembled under me.
I finally pulled off, slow and wet, spit clinging to my lips in sticky ropes that stretched from my mouth to the base of his cock. It dripped down his shaft, over his thighs, and onto the sheets in thick, messy trails.
My mouth was bubbling with spit.
He reached out, grabbed a gentle fistful of my hair, and guided me back toward his cock. His voice was low and gravelly.
“Fuck… you’re my kind of guy.”
I went back in without a second of hesitation. By now, the taste of his skin felt familiar...warm, salty, intoxicating. My throat stretched wide around him, swallowing him whole again, and I gagged as he bottomed out inside me.
Gawk…
Gawk…
Gawk…
The sounds echoed through the room; wet, messy, nasty. Slurps and gags mixed with his breathless, broken groans:
“Aaah… fuck… uuuhh… damn, yeah…”
ThickLoadz was losing it.
To keep things interesting, I pushed deeper. Buried him inside my throat and held there. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty. My jaw ached, my throat spasmed. Thirty. Thirty-five. Still no breath. I didn’t care. I just wanted to impress him.
At forty seconds, he grabbed my hair again and yanked gently. “Fucking breathe, man,” he laughed, panting. “You’re the most insane deepthroater I’ve ever met.”
I pulled off, laughing with him, spit bubbling out of my lips. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, but it was useless...more was already dripping.
“I haven’t sucked a dick in six months,” I said, catching my breath. “You taste fucking good.”
Before he could reply, I was back on him again.
This time, he couldn’t help himself. He started fucking my throat.
Hard.
Gawk…
Gawk…
Gawk…
UNNGHH.
UH. UNH.
UH. FUCK.
The sounds were disgusting...in the best way. Sloppy. Slurpy. Spit and precum foaming around the base of his cock, dripping down my chin, pooling onto the sheets. My face was soaked, his cock shining with saliva, my throat working overtime to take every thrust.
His voice cracked. “Fuck… you ready?”
I nodded, my mouth still wrapped around him, bobbing up and down slowly, eyes fixed on the base of his cock. I gave him one slow, intentional deepthroat and held it.
He laughed. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
One thrust.
Two.
Then he grabbed both sides of my head and slammed me all the way down, burying his cock into my throat, my nose crushed into his sweaty pubes.
And then, I felt it. A hot, heavy flood of cum pulsed inside my mouth.
He grunted loud and raw as I felt it spill out; thick, warm, messy. I tried to swallow, but it was too much. My mouth started bubbling, slick white strings mixing with spit, pouring out of the corners, dripping down his balls, over his thighs.
I stayed there, face pressed against his skin, throat still stuffed with cock.
Luca gave a little shake of his hips, smirking. “Just making sure I unload everything.”
“Ahh, fuck,” he breathed, head falling back.
I finally pulled off, lips swollen, chin soaked. But instead of wiping my mouth with my hand, I held his gaze, then brought my fingers to my lips, licked them slowly, and swallowed the rest of him with a hum.
He leaned in, still breathless, and gave me a wet, sloppy kiss. Our mouths slid against each other, tasting cum and spit and sweat.
“Thank you,” he said between panting breaths. “I desperately needed that.”
I stood, found my t-shirt on the floor, and tugged it over my head. Pulled my boxers back on. “So…” I asked, giving him a look. “You think I proved it?”
He grinned, eyes half-lidded and fucked out. “If that’s what you do after six months off… I might need to fake a dry spell too.”
I laughed. “Glad I could help.”
“Come back any time, Throatgoat.”
Then I let myself out.
And left him leaking.
This story is based on a hookup I had two years ago, with most of it drawn from real experience. A few details were added for dramatic effect; the moans, the room next door, little things like that. Mr ThickLoadz was staying at a hotel across the street from me. I found him on Grindr and ended up on my knees in his room not long after.
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