“Tell me public toilet, how many men have used this hole,” I lubed my cock with spit, teasing delicious pressure on his cunt before I got to pounding “… how many?”

Marcus groaned and started to squirm, but the look he shot me over his shoulder… a satisfying blend of humiliation, pride, mockery, anger, pleasure. 

“Aw, nothin’ to say now? Cat got your tongue?” I teased, tapped at his hole expectantly whilst savoring his silence.

Muffled noises, angry grumbles emanated from his gag, perhaps he was cursing me out, who knew? At least he has something to bite down on. My patience was threadbare; I could tease him no longer.

So, I thrust into him, and the sudden sensation of a tight cunt around my cock nearly took my breath away. His body jolted from the impact, the aggressiveness of the invasion. His back arched—but like an experienced whore, he took it, took that pounding and dug his nails into couch, fought to catch his breath. Creamy thighs trembled, tight hole clenching round me, goddamn.

So, I fucked him. I fucked Marcus Anderson, my son’s best friend, and with each thrust I found myself justifying it, justifying the thrill, the pleasure… the feel of his skin, bruised hips, slick with sweat under my grip. All my stress, the rage, the hurt, the pain, the grief, I fucked it into that tight hole—yes, he was medicine, good medicine for a depressed motherfucker like me. Years of tension washed from my bones with every thrust. I savored his sounds like I savored my favorite whisky, every muffled cry, gag, and whimper, every moan.

He makes pain look so beautiful, and how could I stew in guilt now? No, not when he was so tight, even if it was so wrong, he felt so right.

I lost myself to the overwhelming pleasure at first, the satisfaction of the sight before me, his pathetic frame; the way he dug in and gasped through the pain, fought to catch his breath while I fucked his guts without mercy. He clawed at the couch, fighting to ground himself, to take the abuse like a good boy.

His voice grew rough, hoarse… demanding. Tears streamed down his face, because he needed more. More. I propped my left knee up on the armrest to get a better angle, to grind my dick into his hole like he’d shown me. He needed pain, got off on the pain, but I needed, no, desired to hit him where it mattered. Not just hit it hard but hit it right.

The sight of him was too much; the way his cheeks bounced as I bucked into him. I tried to remain focused, maintain control of myself despite how heavenly his quivering hole felt around me. This is torture. I keep fit, I’ve got some stamina but fuck, I’m too close to blowing my load.

I grabbed him at his nape and dragged his head backward, put eyes on his bloodied face. He gasped, rocked his ass, like he was trying to fuck himself on me; his body knew what it needed, how and where that dick hit, so… I followed his lead and adjusted my rhythm.

And I couldn’t look away from his face, his expression alone got me crazy. Tears dribbled down his swollen cheeks, nose ran, he looked terrifying and beautiful, pathetic, yet in control, bloody, abused… I could’ve busted just from watching that pretty face alone.

After a few minutes it was clear something had begun to shift, saw it first in his eyes, they were rolled back in his head, and the sounds he made… like he was going breathless. The whimpers of painful pleasure, they faded into something else. His muffled voice grew louder, primal moans, gasping in the rhythm in which I fucked him, of which he fucked himself on me.

I must be doin’ something right…

And we fell into a rhythm together, the lines of domination and submission blurring—it was a brutal dance, two restless souls seeking respite in the others pain, pleasure. At some point I became his toy, as much as he was mine. 

The haze of us reached its zenith; the octave in his voice rose to a pitch I’d not heard out of him yet—I bucked into him, rolled my hips, chasing him thrust for thrust. He began to tremble, muscle tensing, he clawed with his hands for something to hold onto, shook.

This is it.

I fought to keep up the pace, not lose that ‘spot’ the place that had him in another world. I hooked my left arm around his stomach and threw my right around his neck, curled my bicep and forearm around his throat and squeezed. I fucked him like my life depended on it, I was so desperate to see his ecstasy; his tight cunt clenched around my cock, and with one final thrust his legs gave out, his body went limp, eyes glazed over in ecstasy as the darkness took over… his hole clenched, his release leaving a heated mess of cum on the side of the armrest. I groaned, gritted my teeth as I felt myself start to go over the edge. I released his neck, curling my arm across his chest and shoulders to steady him as fell apart under me.

“Fuck!”  

The curse from my lips felt gritty and desperate as I humped his tight, quivering ass, drove myself deep in one final, erratic thrust, and lost myself to him, in him. The sensation of the orgasm… it left me breathless, exhausted, and so hungry for more. I’d never felt so free.

I pulled the t-shirt out of his mouth and threw it aside as we trembled there together, and I held his battered, shaken body. I just held him in the silence, held him as we came down together. Two freaks. 

“Marcus…”

His lashes fluttered; chest heaved as his breathing began to settle. He collapsed against my chest, his gaze no longer wandering aimlessly in the darkness from lack of blood flow but now searching lazily around the low-light and shadows before him.

“Hey,” I kissed his neck, wiped the tears from his eyes, “… you okay?”

His back was slick with sweat, he trembled in my arms, took hold of my forearm with his hand, turned his face toward the sound of my voice.

“Mm…” a weak nod.

I frowned, not entirely convinced, “I need to hear a yes or no, Marcus.”

A satiated sigh left his lips, “shit, more than okay.”

Relief washed over me, I let out a heavy exhale and nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck. He came, I met his demands, and that makes me happy… yes, happy. But I'm not quite finished, I've got one last demand of my own. 

“Good,” My voice lowered, darkened as I slipped my cock out of his ass, this elicited a regretful whine from his bloodied lips. “…then you’ll be a good boy for me and clean up your mess.”

Marcus, albeit clumsily, steadied himself on his feet. He shot me a look; wicked, satiated, lustful… it was everything. I wrapped my hand around his throat; my lips ghosted his.

“Wouldn’t want your best friend to come home and see the mess you made, now would we? You understand, baby, can’t just leave it there, and we both know what that mouth does.”

He shivered, a single kiss from his pink lips. Soft, obedient, sweet. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good boy.”

He dropped to his knees, and I nudged his face forward, urged him to begin his work. “Go on, now.”

I was in a sort of daze; I wasn’t sure what possessed me to make such a demand. I’d never ordered a man to eat his own cum before, but the beautiful Marcus took it in stride. More than that it seemed to get him off, he started stroking himself while he lapped it up, his own cum dribbling from the corner of his lips as he cleaned… it was so fucking hot, all of it. I didn’t know I’d even be into something like this—that watching another man eat his own cum would get me fucking hard again.

I started to wonder if we shouldn’t go another round just watching him; maybe I should fuck two loads in that ass tonight, goddamn.

Shadows played off his naked body as he knelt there, ass out, my release leaking from his tight hole, his briefs stretched around his creamy thighs, joggers still bunched at his ankles where I’d left them. He kept stroking himself, used his fingers to sweep up the last of his mess, wherein he looked to me, smirked… “I’m a bit full, but you can help me with that daddy, can’t you?”

He held his hand out, release glistening on his fingertips; perhaps a month ago I’d have balked at something like this, been disgusted, but now… now I was aroused, curious, willing. How could I say ‘no’ to that beautiful face? I wanted to please him as much as he pleased me.

I dropped to my knees to communicate my obedience, my ‘yes, Marcus’, and took his fingers into my mouth. I sucked each, licked his hand till it was clean, tasted him like he’d tasted me, and… fuck, I was into it. I was into him, losing myself to this new arrangement in ways I never could have predicted.

Funny, the shit you learn about yourself in your thirties—a newfound taste for cum, I guess.

“Hey Gid,” he murmured, draped his hands around my neck and drew me into a kiss. I kissed him back, groaned as he bit down on my bruised, bloodied mouth, my hands roamed over his chest, slipped one down between his thighs to play with his cock.

“… what,” I mumbled, drunk on his sex, on his body, on him.

“I’m thinkin’ I’d like you to please me with your mouth before we clean up and snuggle. You’ve earned it, and I think you’ll take me so well.”

I hummed, trailed my lips down his neck, to his chest, swirled my tongue around his pierced nipple, savored the way he groaned and began grinding his stiffening cock into my hand. There was something in his voice; the way he spoke, babied me, it was somehow so commanding, yet still gentle… Domination turned to submission, power exchanged, but I couldn’t get enough.

I’ll face my demons in the morning, because I can’t fucking control myself around him, I can’t say no, I can’t stop. Marcus Anderson has me now, hook, line, and sinker.

My mouth traveled south, lower, and lower… I split his thighs apart with my hands and pressed a kiss to the inside each, savored the sensation of his fingers toying in my hair, his guiding touch, firm but gentle.

 “… I think I should too.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

How did you imagine these characters, do they look similar to what your brain put together while reading? I always love to hear from my readers because everyone's imaginations work differently! <3 This beautiful piece was done by @gatittooee on Instagram. This is our second artist/author collab. She's amazing and again brought the machinations of my imagination to life through art. They're so beautiful and chaotic and she did an incredible job as always. I'll be releasing more character art in the near future, and keep an eye on Gato, as we'll definitely be planning more collabs! (That and you just don't wanna miss out on the gorgeous artwork she puts out)

Can't wait to hear what ya'll thought of this update. See you in the next one! *bows* 

-Quill