A strangled noise tore from me, a whimper swallowed by the sheer mass of him.“I think you always wanted this, didn’t you, faggot?” He asked.The question was a blade, twisting in a wound I never knew I had. The brutal, punishing cadence turned into a frenzied jack-hammering.He was losing control.“God,” he gasped. Gay sex Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, hot and shameful, blurring the hard lines of his face into a monstrous mask of pure lust. A litany of denials. Your thoughts and feedback are incredibly valuable and help me make these stories even better. His fingers dug into my scalp, twisting my hair into a tight knot that pulled at the roots. “Take that fucking cock.”I gagged, a deep, retching heave that accomplished nothing. It was a desperate, unbearable yearning.I needed release.I needed friction.I needed him.My hips betrayed me.They gave a small, involuntary twitch forward.Then another.I rocked into the rhythm he set, my body a slave to the brutal cadence of his thrusts.I was no longer just a victim of his assault.I was a participant.An eager one.His knuckles ground against my skull. “After all these years waiting for a taste, you think you can skip dinner?”He yanked my head back, then slammed me forward again.“Stupid faggot.”Can’t wait to see what
