"Never mind. You could still dump your load in my ass, though?"
From Create Your Own Story
"Fuck yeah, I can do that, birthday boy."
Len tugs you up until you rise, and then grabs your shoulders and walks you to one of the sawhorses. He starts tugging at your belt and your jeans, and you help him, undoing the zipper, and stepping out of them. He takes them and throws them over a nearby pallet, then tugs your shirt over your head, adding it to the pile. He grins, and then hooks his finger into the waistband of your underwear, and pulls them off. You step out of them, and he sniffs them before tucking them into the back pocket of his grass-stained jeans.
"Souvenir," he grins. "You want my load, do you, fuckboy?" he asks, spit-soaked dick hard and curved wickedly from his fly.
"Yeah," you say.
"You wanna take it raw, kid? Get knocked up with my dirty spunk?"
"Yeah," you beg, your voice coming out in a slutty whine. Taking his raw load would be so dirty, so hot. You can barely make out what Len is saying, you want that huge stud dick wrecking your boypussy.
"Turn around then," he says.
You brace yourself against the sawhorse, using both hands, and you feel Len step behind you, pressing the heat of his cock against the small of your back. A moment later, he spits, and the slick saliva dribbles a bit down your ass crack. Len runs his gloved fingers up and down, spreading the liquid. When the rough cloth reaches your hole, you moan, and press back against him.
“Eager, aren’t ya?”
“Yes,” you nearly hiss.
Len doesn’t need any more prodding. Lining up his meaty cockhead at your hole, he pushes himself in, slowly at first, but with more pressure as you press back against him and let a long breath out between your teeth. The rough gloves feel amazing on your body, and the sensation of doing this in the half-finished building, naked, with no idea where you are, and with a burly older stud you just met an hour ago, has you rock hard.
“Ready to get fucked ragged?” Len says, once his dick is buried nearly 9 inches in your ass. The pressure is hot and hard, and you squirm back against him.
“Yes,” you say, and with a laugh, Len starts to fuck you. He grips your waist with both hands, the cloth rough and gritty against your waist, and with every thrust his balls slap against yours, sending waves of heat through you. You grunt and moan and curse as he plows you, holding tightly to the sawhorse to brace yourself. Your cock throbs, but without a hand free to jerk yourself, the pressure builds in your balls without relief. Soon the spit that had barely lubricated his cock has nearly vanished, and you start to gasp in a mix of pain and pleasure as his curved dick seems to burn and pulse inside your hole.
Len’s thrusts grow rougher, and he starts to speak. "You like that, fuckboy?"
"Yes!" you gasp. The rawness of his cock inside you hurts, but it feels so good at the same time.
"You like getting fucked, faggot? You like taking my dick, you little whore?" He grips you so tightly it's painful, and shoves into you as hard as his stocky frame can, making you cry out with every burning thrust.
You've never been fucked like this. You shove your ass against his onslaught, feeling his cock slam deeper and deeper inside you, sweat dripping from Len's chest onto the small of your back. One of his gloved hands reaches under and grips your dick, jerking you. You cry out, and spray your cum all over the rough wooden floor. Len's thrusts grow wilder, and with a deep grunt, he shoves forward hard, and empties a load in your battered ass, the liquid heat feels incredible after the abuse. He holds himself there for a moment, dick spurting in your guts, then pulls out, taking a step back away from the sawhorse. You feel his cum dribble out of your ass a bit, and you stay there a moment, panting. You've never been so turned on before - being treated so rough and dirty!
You hear Len's lighter click behind you again. The scent of his fresh cigarette fills the room. You turn and look at him, still shaken.
"Gotta say, boy - hope it was a birthday you'll remember." He puffs on his smoke.
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
He laughs. "Good. Not often I find a pretty boy who want some dirty cum rammed home right."
You blink at him, his words echoing in your head. There's that word "dirty" again. "What?"
He looks at you, amused. "I knocked you up, boy."
You shake your head.
He laughs. "Jesus, boy. Don't you know the lingo you were using? You asked for a gift. You took my dick raw..." He laughs, shaking his head. "Like I said, that's one gift you don't get to return. Happy fucking birthday."
As what he says sinks in, your stomach starts to clench in tight knots.
Definitely a birthday you'll never forget.
(The End - please send feedback to barratboy@yahoo.ca)
