Mr. Shady Comes to my Aparment

[Gymguy8]

The warning bell should have been when he asked me, "u are cool and not shady, right?" online. We had been talking for a few days. It had been long enough for me to learn that he liked to bareback and he liked it a bit wild. Despite this and some other warning signs, I was still horny and his pictures were hot: a lean, yet muscular black guy, a bit of hair on his chest, a perfect bubble butt, and a beautiful thick, long tool with heavy balls hanging below. I took another look at his pictures, and decided to invite him over anyway. There had already been a few hints that there would be a decent chance he would just flake on me anyway, so I didn't worry that much.

However, much to my surprise, about twenty minutes, he knocked on my door. I had cleaned up and taken a shower, so I was ready for him. I had also hit my bong and was starting to get pleasantly stoned. My first impression of him was that I'd have to be pretty shady to be as shady as he was. He was wearing a ratty old face mask and a beat-up baseball cap with the remnants of some sort of wig hanging out from under. But the kicker was the giant Ikea bag, with a blanket on top. Sketchy hardly began to describe him. I realized I didn't even know his name, which made it that much more shady. Somehow, that got lodged in my mind as his name: Shady.

I was just about to say no thanks and send him on his way when I took a close look at the thin gym shorts he was wearing. The outline of his penis was clearly visible, already thick and hanging heavy in his shorts. Even before we had closed the front door completely, I was down on my knees, trying to get at Shady's hidden treasure. It seemed like the perfect name for him, a hint of danger, and a hint of intrigue and sexuality. Luckily, Shady closed the door for me, giving us a bit of privacy. He set down his bag, then pulled down his shorts, freeing his cock. He had warned me he had just woken up, and was a bit rough. As I leaned in, I could smell the truth in his words. It was a heady mix of sweat, smoke of various kinds, lube, and sex.

I inhaled deeply, and it hit me like a snort from the freshest, most intense poppers. All thoughts of getting him out of the house were replaced by wanting to get that cock hard and into my ass. I took the head, stretching wide just to make room for it. I could taste the sweat from his walk up the hill to my place, as well as hints of cum from an earlier release. Shady moaned in pleasure; I took in more of his cock in response.

"Let's get naked," he said, "You wanna smoke?"

"Sure;" It was clear he meant sharing some of my weed; he certainly hadn't brought anything with him other than his erection. We headed up to my bedroom, where he stripped down. He sat on the bed, legs spread and his cock hanging down between them. I handed him the bong and knelt down between his legs. It quickly became apparent that Shady was a little out of it, as it took him a few tries to get the hang of the bong. I didn't care. All he cared about was the pleasure, and thought nothing about the consequences.

We traded the bong back and forth a few times, as we alternately exhaled thick clouds of the sweet, herbal smoke. Oddly, he kept his facemask on the entire time, pushing it up just long enough to hit the bong. I was still in the early stages of getting stoned, and it didn't really bother me. Besides, I was spending more time getting to know his cock. With each hit he did from the bong, I would get another inch of his shaft into my mouth. He was enjoying this arrangement, I could tell. His cock was growing hard, into his full nine inch erection.

As soon as he was hard, he wrestled me onto the bed, and started to rub his cock up against my crack. We tried to see if he was still slick enough to spit-fuck me, but I was both too tight and he was too big to make that work. I got off the bed long enough to get some lube and poppers, before returning and straddling his dick. I put some lube on it and my nearly-virgin hole and he helped guide it into me. It took two tries; the first time I needed more lube to make it work.

However, on the second try, powered with lube and a long hit of poppers, his cock slid all the way into me. It felt just like a big black cock should feel: hard like a steel shaft, thick like I was going to split, and long enough to make me gasp. I was glad we were doing this raw; there was no way I could take Shady's size sheathed in a thick rubber raincoat. It took us a while, and several positions before we found a good position.

But finally, a combination of me on my side and him behind me seemed to work best. He could get on top of me when he needed better leverage, or stay behind me when we wanted to go slow and deep. He was opening me up good, pounding my hole hard when I needed it, and going slower when his fat shaft was getting too overwhelming.

We didn't talk much, other than an occasional, "move back," "roll over a bit," or "poppers?" We were each floating on highs, occasionally elevated together by a long hit from the poppers. We were both nicely stoned, enjoying the waves of pleasure washing over us. Occasionally, all the waves would line up, and together we would be blasted to a new high. He'd be pounding me relentlessly, each stroke more intense than the one before.

It felt amazing: my hole would be, for a split second, open, empty and gaping. Before I could even relax, Shady would slam his cock back into me, stretch open my hole once more and sink deep into me. My entire body would vibrate from the intensity of his strokes, and I had to grab onto the side of the bed to keep from getting shoved off. It was right at the end of one of these fierce ass-poundings that he suddenly flipped up the facemask and started to kiss me. His kisses were much like his thrusts, forceful and intense, but added a layer of intimacy to the entire encounter I hadn't expected.

I lost track of time. It might have been ten minutes, it could have been hours. Later, when I came off the high, and actually looked at my phone, it was about an hour, but I had no way to judge it. It was a cycle of starting slow, building up, doing some poppers together, and then the hard slam-fucking he liked, until we were both tired out enough to slow back again. Sometimes we would change positions, other times we would make out.

The one constant was his raw cock dripping into my hole. After the first bit of lube, he pre-came more than enough to keep my hole lubricated. I was amazed at how wet my hole was, especially given how hard he was fucking me at times. It was certainly needed. At times, I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to be able to stand it. And other times, when I had just had a hit of poppers, I didn't want it to ever end. There's a special pleasure when my hole is getting a bit sore, knowing that I'm being fucked the way I need to be, and I'll know it for the rest of the day, and Shady easily got me to that point.

After a long bout of fucking, he pulled out of my hole, and rolled over onto his back. "I'm about to cum," he said. "Suck me off." I rolled over, and started to suck him, trying to get as much of his shaft into my mouth as I could. It didn't take long before Shady began to moan uncontrollably. His muscles began to tense up; I could feel his body go stiff just like his cock. He was getting close to cumming, so I continued to suck him off, not wanting to miss a single drop of his semen.

Luckily, Shady understood that I wanted his load, and he didn't try to pull out or anything. Instead, he kept his dickhead in my mouth, as he shot a thick spurt. I savored it; it was surprisingly sweet, and made me want to suck out the rest of his load. I swallowed it just in time for the second spurt. This one was smoky, I could taste the traces of cigarettes in his semen. But he wasn't done with his orgasm. There were several more spurts; these were more of the bitter, salty flavor I knew and loved.

I swallowed each one, ignoring any concerns I might have had about him. The weed had done its job well, and my inhibitions had vanished. My only regret was that Shady hadn't bred my hole; I would have gladly given it up to him. Once he had cum, he fell asleep pretty quickly. I was still a bit wired; my cock was hard. I did a few things around the house while he snored away. Finally, he woke up, and asked about some food. I had an empty fridge, and expressed my regrets; he got dressed quickly and headed out.

Although short, my hole was still sore for most of the afternoon. Not only that, he messaged me later, asking when we could do it again. Next time, I'll see about inviting one of my other friends over to join us.

[Japbtm]

Sometimes these older stories are fuckin hot.