로그인ORGY PARTY: YOU'RE ANTI-GAY? LET MY DICK🍆 TEACH YOU HOW 1I stood on the steps of my office block that afternoon and watched the little protest dissolve. A handful of protesters still lingered with their cardboard signs, faces twisted in the same old mix of fear and borrowed rage. Gerald was the loudest. Always had been. He was Elite College of Pharmacy’s self-appointed anti-queer mouthpiece, twenty-one years old, with a tight little body he tried to hide under oversized hoodies, and a mouth that never stopped running about how faggots like me were a disease."Gerald?" I called his name once.He turned, still talking shit to the two boys beside him, then strutted over like he owned the concrete. Up close I could smell the cheap cologne and the nervous sweat underneath it.“Inside,” I said. Nothing more.He followed me into my office, still talking about how disgusting we were. Me in particular. I just let him. When the door clicked shut I leaned against the edge of my desk, arms fold
MY GREEDY HOLE GETS FISTED 🍆✊ 2.He went slow, twisting his hand gently as it advanced, letting my body adjust to each new fraction of width. I felt the thick ridge of his knuckles pressing harder and harder against my rim. The stretch burned deep, a sharp, constant pressure that forced the tight ring of muscle to yield millimeter by millimeter. My breath came in short, shaky gasps.“Ahhh—fuck—Victor—” I moaned, the sound cracking high in my throat.When the widest part of his knuckles finally popped past the tight outer ring, a raw, broken cry tore out of me — pure, shocked ecstasy. My hole clamped down hard around his wrist in a sudden, involuntary squeeze. Victor let out a low, rough groan from deep in his chest, the sound vibrating through the air between us.“Fucking bastard… you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, voice thick. “Clenching on me like that…”He kept pushing. His thick wrist followed, the skin sliding in with a wet, slick sound as more of his forearm entered me. I fe
MY GREEDY HOLE GETS FISTED✊🍆.I didn't ever think I’d beg a man to shove his entire fist inside me just to fully fulfill, and satisfy my twisted, dark desires, until the night I met Victor.I am Elias. A twenty-four year old. Slim, smooth, with a tight ass that I’d only ever played with using toys, five fingers at once, a mop stick, lotion container, biros, knife handles, and vegetables—egg plants, carrots. Yeah… you read that right.I had fantasized about fisting for years. Late at night I would watch twisted, gay porn videos with my legs spread, something already buried deep in my hole while I imagined something much thicker forcing me open past any limit I had reached alone. But I never had the courage to ask anyone to do it.Until fate favored me and I met Victor.He was thirty-eight, a tall, muscular bear of a man with thick arms, a heavy hairy chest, and calm, commanding eyes that made my knees weak the moment we met at the leather bar. We talked for hours. He was experienced,
FUCK ME 🍆 HARDER, DON'T MAKE LOVE TO ME 3.The shy, quiet boy I’d thought I was with was gone. In his place was this man, three fingers buried in his own ass, face already flushing darker, pupils blown, openly demanding to be used.I didn’t argue.I grabbed the lube from the nightstand, coated my cock until it dripped, then yanked his fingers free and replaced them with the head of my cock in one hard shove. His rim stretched wide around me. I kept pushing, no pause, no gentle rock, just steady, relentless pressure until every thick inch was buried inside the tight, silky heat of him. Leo’s mouth fell open on a broken, high moan that turned into a continuous, shaky sound as I bottomed out.“R-right—there!”I pulled almost all the way out and drove back in harder. The slap of my hips against his ass cracked through the room. I set a brutal pace immediately — long, deep strokes that dragged over his prostate on every thrust, the head of my cock punching against that swollen spot inside
FUCK ME 🍆 HARDER, DON'T MAKE LOVE TO ME 2.When I reached his cock I didn’t rush. I wrapped my fingers around the base first, feeling the heat and the steady pulse under the smooth, and already pink skin. He was fully hard, the head flushed a deep red, a clear bead of precum welling at the slit. I leaned in and dragged the flat of my tongue slowly from the root all the way up the underside, pressing firmly so I could feel every ridge and vein. Leo’s breath hitched. I did it again, slower, then closed my lips over the head and took him into my mouth with deliberate pressure.I sank down inch by inch, letting the thick shaft stretch my lips, feeling the smooth head push against the roof of my mouth and then farther, into the soft give of my throat. My tongue worked constantly — swirling under the head, pressing along the frenulum, then flattening to stroke the full length as I took him deeper. Spit gathered and spilled from the corners of my mouth, coating him until he was glossy and w
FUCK ME🍆 HARDER! DON'T MAKE LOVE TO ME 1.I never expected a simple dating app match to end with me making love to a beautiful boy all night long.My name is Marcus. I’m thirty-four, a quiet architect who works too much and dates too little. When I matched with Leo on the app, I almost swiped past him. He was twenty-four, with soft dark curls, warm brown eyes, and a shy smile in his profile picture that made something in my chest tighten. His bio was simple: “Looking for someone patient. I get nervous easily.”We chatted for two weeks. The conversations were painfully awkward at first. He’d send short replies, overthink every message, and apologize for typing too slowly. I found it oddly endearing. I was patient with him, asking gentle questions about his art studies, his favorite books, the stray cat he said he was feeding behind his apartment. Slowly, the awkwardness melted into something warmer. When he finally agreed to meet in person, I felt more nervous than I had in years.We







