The door rattled louder, some janitor or whatever fumbling with keys outside.
Mason's cock slipped from my throat with a wet pop, the last dribble of cum smearing my lips as he yanked up his soaked jeans, still commando under them.
"Fuck fuck ! " He whispered while putting back his jeans, almost loosing balance and crashing on me ?
We didn’t have much time before someone would find us in a pretty compromising situation, so I stood quickly and started to wipe all the cum that had dripped on the floor and on my face with some toilet paper. You could clearly guess from the texture and the smell that someone had drenched the floor with cum. This was pretty bad news if the janitor found this so I tried absorbing most of it with a few wipes.
Fuck, if someone enters, let’s just say I was sick and I needed help to… hold my hair while I was puking ?
No that’s stupid.
Hair is not long enough.
I don’t even know.
"Shit bro, stop cleaning the mess, time to bounce,» Mason muttered, voice husky from the throat-fuck, grabbing his gym bag and putting it over his shoulder. "Let’s go now. »
I wiped the last drops of thick cum from my mouth and sucked at my fingers, eagerly. His taste was so good and strong I couldn’t get enough of it. I checked if we had left anything suspicious behind us in the toilets and followed him outside.
Boy oh boy, I can feel the weight of his load inside my stomach.
We bolted out the side door, trying to be as natural as possible as some employees were looking at us with a curious look.
I was about to pretend being sick or something but nobody from the staff seemed to care enough about us being locked in the toilets for so long. Mason even waved at them, with a large grin and a "Bye everyone ! » that was so confident it kind of stunned everyone around him.
The dude had some charisma, that’s for sure.
We ended up grabbing lunch together after the rink at one of Mason’s favorite places: Les Délices de Lille. The moment we got close, the smells hit me : warm spices, grilled meat, garlic, something close to citrusynd deep all at once. It was the kind of Lebanese street-food place that didn’t need a menu to convince you; the aromas alone dragged you inside and made you want to taste everything. The air felt thick with flavor, buzzing with sizzling sounds and voices, like the food was already working on you before you even ordered.
"Bet you’re going to love it. Their Sambousek are insane."
I was hooked.
Every dish on display looked unreal, trays packed with colors and textures that made choosing feel almost painful. I stood there hesitating, overwhelmed in the best way, while Mason ordered with easy confidence, clearly at home.
In the end, I let him decide for me and picked one of his recommendations, trusting his taste without a second thought. Something about that felt nice too : letting him guide me, discovering what he liked through what he chose to put on my plate.
The way he talked about it, it seemed that this place was sacred to him. He ordered like it was muscle memory, chatted with the guy at the counter, knew exactly what he wanted.
I loved watching that.
"Ohhh, you’re bringing a new bro now!” the cook said, eyeing us with an amused grin as he worked the counter. "You training him or what? He’s not as tall or as muscly as you!”
Mason laughed immediately, that big easy laugh of his, and leaned an elbow on the counter like he owned the place :
"Hey, don’t scare him off already.” Then he nodded toward me. "That’s Jonas. First time here. I had to bring him : can’t let people live without tasting this place.”
The cook raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself :
"First time, huh? Careful, kid. He brings people here and they never leave.”
Mason snorted, then casually added, like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t completely wreck me
"By the way, bro… this little guy here is more than just a bro now.” He glanced at me, a crooked smile playing on his lips. "Right, Jonas?”
I swear my brain short-circuited :
"Oh… uh...” was all I managed, feeling my face heat up instantly, probably redder than the tomatoes the cook was slicing right in front of us.
The guy burst out laughing, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I see it. Don’t worry, it suits you.”
Mason just grinned wider, clearly pleased, while I stood there melting, pretending the counter was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room.
As we were walking around his discreet, eating our delicious meals, Mason would show me and comment on several more spots he liked to go. I truly loved discovering his habits, the things he always chose, the routines that made up his normal Sundays.
I listened more than I talked, chewing and smiling while he told me what he usually did on his days off, the workouts he pretended were spontaneous, the movies he re-watched when he didn’t want to think. It felt… important, somehow. Like I was being let into something simple and real.
At some point, his hand slid around my waist. Nothing dramatic. Just there. And then it stayed there. His thumb pressed lightly, absent-minded, like he wasn’t even aware of it.
I very much was !
Every small squeeze sent butterflies exploding in my stomach, over and over, until I had to focus on breathing like a normal person.
We walked back slowly, full and warm, and he didn’t let go. His hand guided me without asking, firm and reassuring, like this was obvious, like this was where we were supposed to go.
When his place came into view, he glanced at me with that teasing smile I was already starting to recognize :
"So… you wanna come chill at my place again?”
Then, softer, clearly enjoying my reaction:
"I mean, if you’re up for more lap sitting.”
I didn’t even try to play it cool.
Mason's place was just a quick drive away, but he grinned wicked, stripping off his damp shirt quickly:
"Fuck clothes tonight—grab that lube and wipes from the bag, Jonas. We're going raw."
I nodded, heart pounding, snatching the supplies as he kicked off his sneakers, then shoved down his jeans, kicking them aside.
Buck naked, his muscled body gleamed under the lights, that thick cock swinging heavy between his thighs, already half-hard again from the thrill.
I stripped too, peeling off my sticky clothes, his couch feeling almost sharp on my butt as I sat down. His eyes flicked over, hungry:
"How about we train that hole some more? I wanna be in you longer."
Mason grabbed a towel from the bathroom, slapped it down on the couch, his naked ass plopping onto it, cheeks spreading wide, exposing that tight hole of his own. He guided me closer to his warm body.
No time to rest I guess.
Mason was straight up going to fuck me again? Not even offering me glass of water or something to drink lol. There was no more pretending now, it was just pure gay fuckery all day long.
How many more load this guy could produce by the way?
"Sit your ass down here, Jonas. Nah, strip first... Wait, you're already good. Come on my lap like last time. Loved feeling you grind on me."
I obeyed, climbing on, straddling his thick thighs, his hard cock pressing up against my balls, hot and leaking already. The veins pulsed against my skin, that fat head smearing precum like real cum already. My sore hole twitched, craving it despite the burn it may cause. Mason's hands roamed my back, pulling me close to his warm body, his pecs flexing under my chest.
"I will be slow, don't worry Jonas. I'll stretch your good. Really want you to last longer, see if you can take all this dick without tapping out, think we could try?"
I bit my lip, ass clenching.
"Yeah, but I need to prep first. Clean up and loosen it. Your cock's a fucking monster. You know that, right?"
He nodded, patient, that cocky smirk flashing:
"Go for it. I'll be right here, dick ready."
I slipped off, heading to his bathroom, the tiles cold under my feet.
Door shut, I immediately got into action, probing my ring, still a bit puffy. I worked in two fingers, then three, scissoring wide progressively, the stretch stinging but building that eager burn. I want to take him so bad. I also applied a good among of lube and made sure to coat my anal canal the deepest I could reach with it. Of course I couldn't make my fingers reach Mason's cock size but that was necessary. Breathing heavy, I imagined his huge shaft splitting me, prepping for the ride.
There we go Jonas. Don't screw this up.
Back in the living room, Mason lounged naked, towel under his ass, remote in hand flipping to some late-night sports replay. His eyes lit up as I approached, cock jumping to full mast:
"You good, bro? Need my fingers like last time to open that pussy?"
I shook my head, climbing back on his lap, ass hovering over his steel-hard dick.
"Nah, I got it. Just fingered myself deep. Ready for you. Hope so at least."
He grinned, hands gripping my cheeks, spreading them wide.
"Let me feel." His thick fingers probed my hole, sliding in easy, two knuckles deep, twisting. "Fuck, yeah: loose and wet. Good job."
Satisfied, he positioned me, that massive cockhead nudging my ring, hot and blunt like a fist. Precum oozed from his slit, lubing the way.
"Sit on it slow, Jonas. Ride this dick. Feel every inch invade your guts."
I lowered, breath hitching as the helmet pressed in, stretching my rim wide.
The burn hit sharp again, his girth was splitting me like a fucking warm beer-can, but I pushed down, grunting in agony. His was so much thicker than my fingers.
"Oh fuck... so thick..."
Inch by inch, it sank, my walls gripping tight, the veins dragging inside.
Fuuuck.
Halfway, I paused, trembling, prostate throbbing already. Mason's hands steadied my hips, patient but hungry.
"Keep going, bro! Your hole can do it."
I dropped lower, the fullness overwhelming, until my ass cheeks hit his thighs, balls-deep, his pubes scratching my skin.
Shit, OK. He's fully in. My god he's big!
A moan ripped from me, raw and needy, the stretch so intense it bordered pain, but the pleasure waves crashed harder. Mason groaned low, grabbing the remote tighter.
"Good job babe. That's it! Balls in your hole. Now chill here. You need to stretch, right? So I'm staying buried, just gonna watch this game while I fill your pussy."
Trying to catch my breath and not cum on the spot, I rested my head in his neck and focused on the ways his giant shaft was invading my ass.
He flicked the TV louder, commentary buzzing about some play, but his cock twitched inside me, leaking hot precum deep. I shifted slightly, feeling him stir my guts, the casual vibe making it dirtier: he was owning my ass like it was nothing, just chilling with his dick lodged in me. My sore walls fluttered around him, milking involuntarily, as sweat beaded on his chest.
"Feels good, bro? My cock just throbbing in there while we relax."
"Yeah... it's fucking good now."
"I could stay there all night, so tight and warm."
Wait, something was warm for Mason?
I guess my hole could be lol.
Still, that was impressive from someone that could heat a whole damn city with his body.
His free hand squeezed my ass, holding me down, the teasing edge in his voice promising he'd fuck me senseless soon.
Minutes. Maybe twenty, and I was recovering from the intrusion. I was even starting to feel how good his rod was impaling me. I guess we could stay for a while like that, as long as he didn't fuck, I was now able to take him without cumming on the spot.
But Mason had others plans.
"Hold on, babe," he grunted, hands under my thighs, spreading me wide.
He pounded up into my poor hole, bottoming out with brutal force each time, his huge length rearranging my guts. The stretch burned raw, pleasure-pain mixing as he hammered my hole, precum and my own slick leaking down his shaft, dripping to the floor.
I screamed again, head thrown back, nails raking his back: agony fading fast into pure ecstasy as my cock was trapped between us, smearing pre on his abs.
I won't survive this man!
"Fuck yeah, scream for this dick," he demanded, pace relentless, his cocky bro vibe turning animal. He adjusted his grip, slamming harder, finally forcing the last inches in until his heavy balls smacked flush against my ass.
Balls-deep at last, fully sheathed in my wrecked hole, he held there, grinding deep.
"You're made to take my cock Jonas."
Mason's words were just too much for my poor gay brain and I moaned even higher, his cock throbbing deep inside my wrecked hole, stretching me to the limit. I clenched around him, my yoga-flexible body trembling on his lap, every nerve screaming from the fullness.
The TV blared in the background, some climbing competition again. He started thrusting up hard, his thick shaft pistoning in and out of my ass with wet, sloppy sounds, balls slapping my skin loud.
"Fuck yeah, that was such a good move!"' he yelled over the roar of the crowd on screen, his hips snapping up to bury his dick deeper into me.
"Dude just plowed that route." He laughed, cocky as ever, one hand gripping my hip while the other squeezed my leaking cock, stroking rough to match his fucks. "You should look at that too."
Each plunge stretched my rim raw, that huge girth dragging against my walls, sending sparks of pain-pleasure shooting up my spine. I moaned loud, head lolling back, my lean frame bouncing helplessly on his muscled thighs. Sweat poured off him at a steady rhythm, mixing with the precum leaking from where we joined, dripping down his heavy sack. He fucked me relentless, commenting on every play.
"Still good babe?"
His cute "babes" were sending me over the edge. He really seemed serious while saying them and it couldn't make me more happy. He said them with a softer voice, his eyes locked on mine, dark with lust.
My heart burned for him.
"Mason... fuck, your cock's destroying me," I gasped, fingers clawing his neck bones.
"Wait, got an idea for a new posture babe. We need to try it."
"A... a new posture?"
"Yeah, gonna be insane. Always love doing that to my chicks."
- - -
He surged up suddenly, lifting me off it with his cock still buried deep. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, arms clinging to his neck as he stood tall in the middle of the room, fucking me standing like a cheap slut.
"Fuck! Fuck! Mason! That's! Fuck!"
"Huh! Huh!" He kept grunting with each thrust.
I was his sex-doll to fuck, man-handled like never before. Being fucked like that was even more slutty and mind-bending. It just felt too much for my poor body.
He impaled me like for a good while, sometimes commenting on the competition, like if fucking me like that in the air was nothing special. This guy was truly something else.
And then the stud carried me across the room, each step jolting his shaft harder into my guts.
"Thirsty after all that tongue work earlier," he grunted, pounding up into me mid-stride, my ass cheeks clapping against his hips.
We hit the kitchen tile, cool under his feet, but his heat scorched me from inside. He reached for the shaker on the counter one-handed, the other propping my ass, never pulling out.
“Here, babe. Hold still while I hydrate," he said, popping the lid and chugging the protein shake, engulfing more and more.
Even with only one hand holding my ass, I was safe in the air honestly. I mean his dick was hard as a log and fully lodged inside of my hole, completely impaling me. There was just no way I could escape his grip.
He kept thrusting shallow, rocking me on his pole like it was nothing, my hole clenching greedy around the base.
"Mmm, these reps are getting deeper, just like your pussy taking my dick. Feel that? Stretching you out so good."
He set the shaker down, wiped his mouth, then slammed in full force, making me yelp as his cockhead nudged my prostate hard.
"Fuuuuuck!"
He spun us to the wall, pinning my back against the cool surface (it was burning cold and sent a shock through my spine), lifting my legs even higher, over his strong shoulders!
"How about that posture then?" He asked, cocky as ever.
I screamed his name in response.
At this point I was becoming his personal toy. The guy knew I was flexible with all the yoga and was just taking advantage of it. Pure evil. So yeah, I bent easy, ass exposed and vulnerable, his huge cock sliding out halfway before he jackhammered back in.
Fuck, it was fast, brutal and merciless.
His pumps had my hole gaping around him now.
"Fuck, take this dick, babe!" he snarled, sweat flying, his broad shoulders bunching as he railed me. Each jack sent shockwaves through me, my cock slapping my abs, pre spurting wild. The stretch was insane, his thickness prying me open wider, pain blurring into ecstasy as he bottomed out over and over.
I was already pretty close to fucking erupt for his cock, but he stopped bucking and switched position again, putting my legs back around his waist.
I locked my ankles behind his ass, pulling him deeper with my heels.
He groaned loud, pace faltering for a second, eyes widening with surprise and heat:
"Christ, Jonas... yeah, just like that. Love when my girls wrap around me like this! Just like your begging for more."
His talk turned me on harder than ever.
"Don't fucking stop Mason. Keep pounding me like that please!"
"Yeah? Want more?"
He rewarded me with harder thrusts, hands bruising my thighs, fucking me like he owned my ass for eternity.
We stumbled out of the kitchen into the corridor, his dick still buried, carrying me impaled as he bounced me rough. The walls closed in, dim light from a bulb overhead casting shadows on his sweating, muscled form.
"Goddamn, this hole is just the fucking best I had," he swore, slamming me against the corridor wall, the impact jarring his cock even deeper. "Can't get enough of it!"
"It's yours Fuck! Keep fucking me please!"
He pounded even faster, grunts increasing in volume as he was clearly reaching some dangerous climax, his bubble ass flexing under my leg grip.
The friction built insane, my rim raw and swollen, but I craved it, moaning his name as waves of pleasure crashed. His face twisted, veins popping in his neck, body slick and heaving.
"Shit, bro... I'm feeling the waves of this rep building in my balls. Gonna cum soon!"
He seemed to hesitate for a while, keeping that hard fuck but his face visibly lost in confusion:
"Wait Fuck! Were should I nut babe? Can I come inside you?"
"Do it in me! Fucking breed me stud!"
At this very moment, I saw something in his eyes.
Like the raw desire to possess me.
To dominate me.
For ever.
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