The Anniversary
It had been a few months since the night Rocco forced me open in the locker room. A few months of Austin finally being able to bury every thick inch of his eleven-inch cock inside me whenever he wanted. I didn’t tap out anymore. I took all of him now, and I loved it.
We pulled into the campground late that afternoon, just before dinner. The place was made up of small one-room cabins strung along short cul-de-sac roads, each with its own picnic table and a big shared fire pit in the middle of the clearing. Trees closed in around everything. It felt quiet. Private, even though it wasn’t.
Austin killed the engine and looked over at me with that warm, easy smile he always wore outside the bedroom. Mid-to-late forties, thick natural muscle under a permanent layer of dark body hair, the kind of build that came from years of real work instead of just a gym. He still made my stomach flip.
“Happy anniversary, baby.”
I leaned across the console and kissed him. “Happy anniversary.”
We unloaded the car together and carried everything into the little cabin. One bed, small kitchenette, bathroom, window looking out over the fire pit. A vase of flowers and a card that simply said "Happy Anniversary Alex & Austin" was waiting for us - apparently left by the staff.
Austin snickered.
"What?" I said confused.
"Alex and Austin. I always thought our names together sound like the name of some fancy shop or restaurant."
"Or like a cheesy Nickelodeon show."
"Maybe...but that's a little before my era, babe." He chuckled again.
We unpacked side by side, trading soft touches and quiet smiles. I caught him watching me fold a shirt and grinned.
“I can’t wait to break this bed later.”
Austin’s mouth curved. “Not if I break your hole first.”
The words went straight to my cock. His voice was still light, still affectionate. That was how he was. Warm and kind until the clothes came off. Then he became something else entirely.
We cooked dinner together at the small stove — thick steaks, simple seasoning, a couple of beers. The cabin filled with the smell of searing meat. Outside, the light was turning gold and the campground was quiet except for the distant crack of someone else’s fire and the occasional low voice carried on the breeze.
While we ate at the picnic table I casually said, “I saw Rocco at the store a couple weeks ago.”
Austin raised an eyebrow, still cutting his steak. “Did you bend over right there in the middle of the aisle for him?”
I laughed, embarrassed. “No. I was too chicken to even look at him. I went the other way.”
Austin smirked and reached under the table to squeeze my thigh. “Good. That hole’s mine to give away, not yours.” The flirting drifted filthier after that — quiet promises about how deep he was going to fuck me later, how he still got hard every time he watched the video of Rocco taking me, how he loved the way I’d learned to open up for him. I was already half-hard by the time we finished eating.
Later, after the dishes were done and the fire had burned down to low coals, we headed inside. Austin had chopped wood earlier without a shirt. His thick chest and stomach were still faintly shiny with dried sweat, the dense black hair matted in places. The scent of him filled the small cabin — warm skin, clean sweat, that deeper musk that always lived under his arms and between his legs.
I didn’t even make it to the bed before I was on my knees.
I pulled his shorts down and took that heavy, uncut eleven-inch cock straight into my throat. The thick head pushed past my tongue and kept going until my nose was buried in the dark, sweaty hair at the base. I could taste the salt of his skin, the faint bitterness of precum, the deeper musk of his balls. I held myself there, throat working around him, then pulled back just enough to breathe before sliding all the way down again. I fucked my own throat on his cock, steady and deep, the way I knew he liked.
Austin’s big hand rested on the back of my head, not forcing, just holding.
“Fuck, look at you,” he murmured, voice already rough. “Taking every inch like a good boy. Such a perfect little throat slut for me.”
I pulled off with a wet gasp and buried my face lower, sucking one of his heavy, low-hanging balls into my mouth, then the other, breathing in the sharp, salty scent of sweat and skin. I licked lower, dragging my tongue over his taint, tasting the concentrated musk there while his cock rested hot and wet against my cheek.
“That’s it,” Austin groaned. “Get in there. Worship them.”
I went back to his cock, deepthroating him again, using my throat like a hole, spit running down my chin and onto his balls. He let me go for a long time — praising me, calling me his good boy, his filthy throat slut, telling me how perfect I looked choking on him — until he finally gripped my hair and pulled me off with a wet pop.
“Easy,” he said, breathing hard, eyes dark. “You keep fucking your throat on it like that and I’m gonna bust before I even get inside you. Can’t have that on our anniversary.”
When I stood, Austin turned me around, bent me over the edge of the bed, and pushed into me in one long, steady stroke. The thick uncut head popped past my rim and kept sinking until every inch was buried. My cock jerked hard against the sheets, already dripping. The stretch was familiar now, but it still stole my breath every time.
Austin draped himself over my back, chest hair scraping my skin, and started fucking me deep and slow. He kissed the side of my neck, then bit down gently.
“Love you,” he breathed against my ear. “Love this hole. So fucking loose for me now. That’s my good boy. Taking every inch like you were made for it.”
I pushed back to meet every thrust, reaching back to grip his thick thigh. Sweat built between us. The wet sound of his cock working in and out of me filled the cabin. His heavy balls slapped against me, still damp from my mouth. The scent of his pits and chest surrounded me every time he leaned close.
“Feel that?” he murmured, hips rolling in that perfect, devastating rhythm. “That’s all eleven inches. All the way in. My perfect little hole. Love how wet you get for me. Love how you drip when I stretch you open.”
I was lost in it — the depth, the heat, the way his cock dragged over my prostate on every stroke, the filthy-sweet things he kept saying against my neck. When he finally buried himself to the hilt and came, it was with a low, broken groan, pumping load after thick load as deep as it would go. I followed right after, spilling onto the sheets untouched, clenching around him.
Afterward he stayed inside me for a long moment, chest pressed to my back, both of us breathing hard. Eventually we shifted up onto the mattress. I curled against his side, head resting on that broad, hairy, still-sweaty chest, his cum slowly leaking out of me onto the sheets.
Austin stroked my back with slow fingers.
“Love you,” he said quietly.
“Love you too.”
He chuckled, low and warm. “Still can’t believe how many times we’ve watched that video of you and Rocco. You look so fucking good getting ruined.”
I smiled against his chest. “You like watching?”
“I loved watching.” He kissed the top of my head. “I can't wait to spend a nice weekend with my Alex.”
Somewhere in the dark his phone buzzed a few times in a row. I heard it, but I was already drifting off and didn’t care.
I fell asleep naked, sticky, and happy, with the steady rise and fall of his chest under my cheek and the distant sounds of the campground settling around us.
I woke up in the middle of the night the moment I felt something heavy weigh the mattress down. Whomever or whatever it was, was much heavier than Austin. Before I could even react or see who it was, a massive cock was halfway inside me.
"Miss me cunt?" A deep voice growled low right into my ear. I could feel the hot breath on my neck. I shivered and my cock twitched.
Rocco.
