This story is fictional and any relation is coincidental. Please be over 18 when reading
Fooling around on Manhunt on a dreary Monday afternoon when I should have been cramming for an Econometrics test, I sifted through a couple messages, including a K Street type who wanted to nail some hole. What started as yet another MH chat you could conduct in your sleep took an intriguing turn.
"Hot profile, cutie. Steve here. I gotta compliment you on that sweet, sweet hole".
(Thanks Steve)
"Can you host this afternoon?"
(Running short on time here; I have a test at 7 pm)
"That gives us 2 hours. I have to be somewhere at 6:30. Could you be talked into getting a warm 6-day load jammed up your hole? Been a while since I've been able to fuck a bare hole as nice as yours. I've got a thick sea of salty swimmers here for you. Let's introduce them to that hole, huh? Honestly, I'm so hard that I can't focus at work anymore. I'd love a chance to mix it up with you..."
Now a 6-day load is enticement enough to drop what I'm doing. But it was Steve's honesty and sense of fun that intrigued me. A real personality is rare on MH.
He wasted no time showing up at my doorstep within 15 minutes. Well dressed, maybe 29, maybe 6'1", and far cuter than his photo – Steve reminded me of a Breckin Meyer (from Clueless) dressed up as a DC lobbyist or policy wonk. He shook my hand and flashed a smile as he walked in, so I played it cool. Gave him a drink and made a little small talk on the sofa. Steve asked me about my semester as he untied his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, never taking his eye off of me. A sly one. The conversation slowed and he asked, "So, can you help me out here, cutie?"
He had me kneel in front of him on the sofa and undo his belt and pants, showing a tan line, a lean body and the tiniest treasure trail leading straight into his bright blue CKs. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt as I pulled off his CKs and took his cock in my mouth, a slow inch at a time, rotating my mouth and tongue around his shaft and eliciting a loud gasp. When his mushroom head and thick shaft hit my throat, he locked his hands on the top of my head, as I surveyed the damage he was about to unleash on my hole. Steve had maybe 7", but it was a fucking beer can.
Hard beyond belief now, he stood up, fully naked, rock hard, grabbed my hand, and slyly said, "Time to fuck, handsome." I led him to the bedroom as he pulled off my t-shirt and gym shorts. Steve put me on all fours on the bed, tongued my smooth hole lightly a couple times, and then literally spit forcefully into it, 3 or 4 times, as his saliva blast ran down my ass cheeks and legs. He rimmed me for a quick minute and then I felt the beer can primed at my hole. Steve pushed his cock inside me gently, slowly, letting me get used to his thickness. I must have winced, so he asked if he should stop. I shook my head, and he said, "Good boy. You can take it." Clenched my teeth until his balls were at my hole as his arms folded around my torso. Then the real fucking began, a steady, firm fuck that knocked my knees off balance as the beer can ripped me open. Steve fucked in a very vocal way, a steady, "Uh-uuh-uuuh" that betrayed how much he was into it. Not more than five minutes later, he blurted out, "Sweet fucking cumhole" as his balls slapped furiously at my hole, desperate to unleash their salty cargo, and right then his body tensed as shot his load inside me. It felt warm, but not especially spasmic. It did make him collapse on top of my back, and I lowered myself on the bed to rest for a minute. He stayed on top of me and let his cock finish draining itself in my sperm hole.
Finally, Steve pulled off and we lay together for a few minutes, making post-sex small talk. He asked me about life as a student in DC. After a minute, he let on that he was going to meet up with his partner at 6:30. (Surprise!) I opted for a stoic, poker face and asked how long they'd been together. (Four years.) As the conversation drifted, he grew hard again and finally cut me off, saying, "I'm gonna fuck you again, Brandon." Steve climbed on top of me, hiking my legs on his shoulders and cupping his hands around my neck. His cock easily slid inside me again, lubed with his own spermload. Bending me forward, Steve began to fuck deeply, bottoming out inside me until he mastered a jack-hammer assault on my hole. The rocking rhythm slowly forced my body to slide further up on the bed, til he had me pinned at the headboard, my bare feet touching the bedroom window. For a minute, I was going to ask him to ease up, because by now he was knocking my head into the headboard as he fucked me, as I heard a EMT siren drive by the hospital two blocks away. But Steve's moaning was too intense to interrupt it, and a minute later his planted his second load inside me, then going weak again. This time, I put my arms around him and just held him for a few minutes.
He motioned as if he was going to get up and get dressed, but then relaxed again on my bed. I ventured into dangerous territory then, asking him about the nature of the relationship with his partner. (Monogamous, of course.) Steve offered that they hit a rough patch and the 6:30 was actually their weekly couples counseling. Now, at a complete loss for words, I stammered something or another. He gestured that it was ok, and without even asking, crawled back into position and slid back inside me again. I hesitated for a minute – third fucks are usually desperate hour-long affairs. But Steve was hard again, and whispered in my ear, "I know I can blow one more load inside you." His fucking now was gentler, and more tactile. I wrapped my arms and legs around his back, as he bit my neck. I had lost any moral high ground by now. Was I caressing him because I felt some odd connection with him? Or did the wet fucking noises emanating from my sloppy hole, as Steve rammed it again, just make me insatiable to be filled again? Amazingly, Steve pumped a third load inside me within a few more minutes, and we just held onto each other, enjoying the last moments of one man breeding another.
As he washed up and got dressed, I offered Steve my number, and he accepted it, like a gentleman. But we both understood the limitations of our fun afternoon, barebacking in bed. And then he left. Hopping in the shower to clear my mind before the test, I thought about how handsome Steve is, the type of boyfriend I'd like to have someday. His Hugo XY cologne had seeped onto my body and I still smelled it, like a souvenir. And then I wondered about the irony of a committed man who came over to breed a college boy 3 times, to take care of his sexual needs, right before a meeting where the point was to talk about the unspoken things in their relationship. But my train of thought hit pause, as I felt his load begin to leak from my hole in the shower, running down the insides of my legs in thick, warm gobs, a shocking amount of sperm sliding down my legs in two parallel trails, collecting in ringlets around my ankles and sticking there, even after the shower ended.