All Chapters of Rough Hands(20 gay steamy Encounters): Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I couldn’t look my wife in the eye the next morning. She kissed my cheek before leaving for her spa day, perfume sweet and cloying. I turned away, muttering something about an early meeting. My ass still throbbed from the brutal fucking on my desk the night before. Thick plugs of dried cum clung to my underwear. Every step reminded me how full he had left me — how deep he had reached. All day in the boardroom I sat there in my tailored suit, nodding at projections and barking orders, while my hole twitched around the fresh plug he had shoved in before I left for work. Every shift in my chair made me bite the inside of my cheek to stay silent. My cock stayed half-hard under the table. By 9 PM, my wife was already in bed with a migraine. I told her I had late calls. The penthouse felt too quiet when I walked in. He was waiting in my office again, leaning against my desk like he owned it. Shirt off. Muscles gleaming under the low lights. Sweatpants slung so low I could see the deep V

The plug stayed locked inside me through dinner.My wife sat across the table, talking about her day, her voice soft and hopeful. I nodded at the right moments, smiled when expected, but all I could focus on was the thick silicone stretching my hole and the warm, heavy loads still sloshing deep inside me from the night before. Every time I shifted in my chair, it pressed against my prostate and sent filthy sparks up my spine. My cock stayed half-hard under the table the entire meal.She reached over and touched my hand. I pulled away gently. “Tired from work,” I muttered. The excuse was wearing thin.Later that night she went to bed early. I told her I had to review contracts. Instead, I went to my home office.He was already there.The moment the door locked behind me he grabbed me by the throat and shoved me against the wall, his massive body pinning me in place. His thick bulge ground hard against my ass.“Still plugged like a good married whore?” he growled into my ear, voice low

The next morning I woke up next to my wife with his cum still locked deep inside me.The thick plug had done its job. I could feel the warm, heavy mess shifting every time I moved. My hole was sore, puffy, and completely used. She kissed my cheek and went downstairs to make coffee like a perfect wife. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, shame burning through me while my cock twitched at the memory of how roughly he had bred me the night before.All day the tension built. Meetings. Calls. Lunches. I sat through everything plugged and leaking, wondering if anyone could tell. By evening my wife announced she was going to bed early — headache again. I told her I’d join her soon.He was waiting in the master bedroom when I walked in.The risk was insane. She was in the en-suite bathroom, door slightly ajar, getting ready for bed. The lights were low. He stood by the bed like he owned it — shirtless, sweatpants low, massive cock already hard and tenting the fabric.“On the bed

I was still tied to the headboard, wrists aching from the belt, legs spread wide by Marcus’s strong hands. My hole burned from that first brutal thrust, stretched obscenely around the thick head of his cock. He hadn’t moved much yet — just stayed buried deep, grinding slowly, making sure I felt every throbbing inch.“Still fighting it, boy?” Marcus’s voice was low, dark, and dripping with cruel amusement. He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my thigh hard enough to bruise. “You were so eager to fuck my wife. Now you’re the one getting fucked. How does it feel?”I tried to twist away, shame burning through my chest. “Please… take it out. I’m sorry — I’ll never touch her again. Just let me go.”Marcus laughed, a deep, filthy sound that made my stomach drop. He pulled back slowly until only the fat head remained inside me, then sank back in with one long, deliberate stroke. The slow drag over my prostate forced a broken moan from my throat.“Too late for

I don’t know how long I stayed tied to the bed like that. Hours, maybe. Marcus had left me there after the second breeding — wrists bound to the headboard, ankles spread and secured, cum still leaking slowly from my ruined hole despite the plug he pushed back inside me. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the hallway light. Every small shift sent fresh waves of soreness and filthy fullness through me.I tried to sleep. I couldn’t. My cock stayed half-hard, twitching every time the plug pressed against my prostate. The shame was overwhelming. I had come here to fuck his wife, and now I was the one tied down and used like a toy.The door opened again around 3 AM.Marcus stepped in, completely naked, his thick cock already heavy between his legs. He closed the door quietly and stood at the foot of the bed, just staring at me.“Still fighting it in your head, boy?” he asked, voice low and mocking. He climbed onto the bed and slowly pulled the plug out. A thick glob of his cum