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Travis's Claim


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Flirt

 

I was a faithful husband in a monogamous marriage of three years.   My husband was a god among men:  handsome, strong, successful, and a great partner in every way.

 

But when I let my mind wander, it wandered down the same path.  What likely started off as a desire to see raw fucking had morphed over the years into a fetish for bug chasing.  And such dominated my fantasies (as well as my porn searches). 

 

I was not on any hookup apps but was popular on other social media.  Periodically, I received messages from strangers wanting to meet me or chat me up.  I generally declined their messages., but for a reason still unknown to me, one such message didn’t go ignored. 

 

The sender’s name was Travis.  A brief skim of his profile revealed he was cute (though skinnier than I preferred).  He worked as an EMT and lived in the suburbs.  His life looked decidedly less – refined? desirable?--  than ours, with a cheap and dirty looking apartment compared to our city condo, a pickup truck to our luxury SUV, a mutt to our Labrador.

 

He initially messaged in response to a photo I posted from the gym, complimenting me on my form.  I thanked him, and followed him back.   Minor chit chat ensued between Travis and me periodically for the weeks after.

 

And then one Saturday afternoon, our exchange took a turn:  Out of nowhere, he sent a photo.   It was a selfie from neck down, revealing a skinny torso giving way to what I can only describe as a perfect dick.  Thick, long, and beautiful, with a mushroom head that I immediately craved.   I was mesmerized and told him so.  I wanted to see and know more about Travis suddenly – not just chatter, but substance.  His dick had penetrated me through my phone.

 

In the coming weeks, through online conversation, we got to know one another through words, photos and videos.  I learned that Travis only fucks bare, which I found so hot. Condoms, he said, were a turn-off.  I learned he had followed me online for a while, intuitively knew that I was a bottom who would want his dick. He was a master of words that struck at my core of sexuality: I needed raw penetration and I needed cum.  

 

Ultimately, our chats led to the inevitable question:  would this be just an online flirtation, or could we meet up in person to consummate our passion. 

 

For him, there were no reasons not to get together.  He wanted to breed me, and I wanted to be bred. End of story.

 

On my end, all I saw were reasons why this could never happen.  I was married (happily, I might add), and my husband would never let a third like Travis into our relationship or allow any open-ness for me to experience this tryst.  And if I were to cheat, which I never had, I couldn’t do it raw despite all of our banter and my fantastical desires for Travis’s cum. 

 

Travis pressed for a secret get-together.  He described how it could go down:

 

I find you in a bathroom, where you drop to your knees.  You pull out my big soft dick. You take my cock in your mouth and it grows to rock hard.  I pull you to your feet and take you into a stall, bend you over and slide my wet hard cock, drenched in precum, into your amazing hole.  Then you milk my load out of me.

 

I loved every detail of this fantasy and tell him so.  I told him how I wanted his load in me so badly.  I told him what a god he was, how my hole was made for penetration by his perfect wood. 

 

But conflicted and faithful, I said I couldn’t.  Travis said I was wasting his time by chatting with no future.  Our online conversations were likely coming to an end, and that our fantasies were going to be thwarted by reality.

 

But then, unexpectedly, my husband had to leave town for the weekend.

 

 

 

Drunk

 

My husband and I were rarely apart, so his weekend away was somewhat momentous.  I went out drinking with friends, who treated the event almost like a bachelor party.

 

Midnight rolled around after a long day of boozing, and I decided to call it a night. 

 

In the cab home, I instinctively opened my phone and messaged Travis.  He was always on my mind.

 

“Hey stud.”

 

“Sup?” was his nonchalant response.

 

“My husband’s out of town this weekend.”  A statement that dropped like a rock into a still pond, with ripples reverberating forever into the distance.

 

“I have to come over.  Now.” Travis said.

 

I guess I knew I’d invited this response, but it was just so… real.  Did I really just open myself up to having an affair with one drunken text? 

 

“Like, now now?  For real?” I responded.

 

“Yes.  Send me your address.  I can leave right away.”

 

My stomach churned with excitement and fear as I typed out our address and told him to text me when he arrived so I could guide him into our building. 

 

I panicked.  What was about to happen?  I didn’t know Travis beyond smut talk.  It was already late at night.   What was I thinking?

 

I decided to jump in the shower to sober up a bit and to prepare for whatever was about to happen.  Time was limited if he was already on his way.

 

 

Fuck

 

My phone buzzed:  He was downstairs. 

 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” I said aloud to myself.  I was literally shaking as I walked to the elevator.

 

I looked at my reflection in the doors as they slid shut.  I’d opted for my go-to outfit at home:  a jock strap, mesh shorts, a tank, and sneakers.  I thought the lighting did right by my muscles, and I smirked at myself. 

 

The door opened into the garage level, and there he was in real life.  Travis.

 

He was not my type, but he was also everything I hoped him to be.  He was tall and lanky, with a mop of sandy-blond hair and a mustache.  He wore baggier jeans than I would wear, and his t-shirt had a stretched out collar.  He was pale and wore a bright gold chain.

 

For a fleeting moment I thought of my husband, tan, muscular, and perfect, some five hundred miles away for work as the warm summer air blew through our parking garage. 

 

“Sup, Eric.”  He stated as he boarded the elevator and put his hand on my shoulder with a grin.

 

The doors closed.  His hand made its way down my back.  He squeezed my ass.

 

Once inside our apartment, he pushed me to my knees.  Even though I could surely overpower him, I was powerless:  he was in command.  Just like in the fantasy he’d sent earlier, I unlocked his soft dick from his jeans and began working it with my mouth.   Looking up, I could tell by his facial expressions he was pleased. 

 

“Damn boy, I didn’t think this would ever actually happen.  Thought you were catfishing me.  Yanking my chain.”

 

I didn’t think it would ever actually happen either, I though, as his dick grew. 

 

A salty taste gradually took over my mouth; I knew he was pre-cumming a lot.

 

My head bobbed back and forth, occasionally taking a break to suck on his balls or to lick his shaft up and down.   His dick was as glorious as I’d thought via photos and videos.  Perfect really, and now pulsing thanks to my oral pleasures.

 

Finally, he pulled his cock from me and said “get up” And I did.

 

“I want to fuck you in your bed.”  He said with a grin.  He liked the symbolism of fucking in my marital bed.

 

I led him to the Master bedroom, turned, and he pushed me down onto the mattress.

 

“Take your clothes off.”  He commanded, but then seeing the jock strap said “Leave that on.”

 

Spreading my legs wide, he positioned himself next to the bed and removed his clothing.  He then stroked his glorious dick a few times and began aligning his dick with my hole.  No lube, just pre-cum and spit.

 

He pressed.  It burned.  His perfect mushroom head plodded inside me. 

 

My longstanding fantasies arose with Travis’s raw entry.  I thought about how personal it was to be fucked bare, how there could be no further closeness to be had.  I thought of how vulnerable it was to take another man’s bare cock and to accept their load, with whatever that load carried with it.  I then thought of the dudes who begged to be pozzed in the videos I’d watched, and the dom tops who boldly proclaimed they were pozzing their subjects.  My hard-on raged.

 

“Are you….?”  I trailed off.   “Fuck that feels good.  I’m…  I’m not on PrEP.  Are you…”  It wasn’t my sexiest banter.

 

I felt his dick drive slowly deeper within my tight ass.

 

He diverted his eyes from his dick entering my hole to my face.  “I’m not either.”  And he grinned wider, pulling out slightly then pushing back inside me.

 

He began these mini-thrusts with his hips.   Slowly but surely, plunging his cock getting deeper and deeper.

 

“That’s hot.” I exclaimed.

 

“It’s too late for me to be on that shit.  And too late for you now dude.”

 

“Huh?”  I half-asked, delighting in the rhythmic fuck.  “What do you mean?”

 

“Dude, you’re mine now.  It’s just you and me.  My raw dick.  Inside your pretty ass.  Soon my bare, poz cock is gonna be dumping an unmedicated load in you.  I’m marking you forever tonight, Eric.”

 

I arched my back and my eyes rolled back as I felt the ecstasy of our hairy balls finally hitting each other as his dick reached my prostrate.  His words were processing in slow motion.

 

“Fuuccckkk”  I moaned as he pulled out a bit.

 

“You like my poz dick in you?” he said, just as I’d heard many porn stars say before.

 

Red flags were going up in my brain, but “Fuck yeah” escaped my lips.

 

“I knew you would.  I knew you were meant to be my slut.” Travis exclaimed as he increased the vigor of his thrusts.  “Fuck your ass feels so good.  I’m so fucking ready to take you as mine.” 

 

I heard and felt his slim thighs and his full balls slamming against mine as his rhythm grew even more.  I clenched my sphincter muscles around his dick, hoping to milk it soon.  My tender hole could not take much more of a pounding.

 

My dick was leaking precum all over my stomach.  I looked up at Travis, who’s grin had given way to an intense grimace as though he wanted to destroy me with his forward thrusts.  His skinny torso was glistening with sweat.  His chain bounced back and forth as he pounded me hard.

 

He began grunting loudly – I worried my neighbors would hear.

 

“UNH – UNH – UNH – UNH – FUCK I’M GONNA CUM! I’M GONNG CUM!!!  UNH!!! UNH!!! UNH!!!!!!  OH YEAHHHH!!!!!!”  He screamed, as a toxic eruption took place deep in my guts.

 

I was rock hard and my dick was throbbing as my fuck hole was now lubricated with Travis’s unmedicated being.  I stroked furiously, thinking to myself how hot it was that I’d just taken a load from this stud with the perfect dick I’d worshiped from afar for weeks.

 

He resumed slowly pulsing his dick out and in my ass, fucking his POZ jizz deeper into my chute, he wanted to make sure it would take hold.  I gripped my dick harder and kept stroking.

 

“You’re mine now, bitch.  I’ve marked you like a dog pissing on a tree.   You have my DNA in you forever.    Your purpose from here out is to worship my cum, to worship me, and to become mine in every way.  Lick my pits you fucking bitch.  He leaned down and let me lick his sweaty armpits.  My tough meandered down to his nipples.  

 

My balls tingled, signaling it was time for me to erupt too. 

 

“Fuuucckk!” I screamed, and a fountain of neg spunk erupted over my torso.

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Woke

 

I awoke Saturday morning with a splitting headache and a dry mouth.  I rolled over and opened my eyes to see Travis sleeping soundly by my side, and the clouds in my mind cleared quickly:  My ass was sore. This man, who’s not my husband, fucked me last night. Bare. To completion. And he’s HIV+.

 

Fuck--what have I done, I thought.

 

I began to sweat, as the gravity of my fuckup hit me.

 

And then my phone buzzed on the bedside table. I rolled over to look and saw it was my husband Brad calling.

 

“Hey baby!”  I answered with a somewhat hoarse tone.

 

“Hah – hey lover” he said, “you sound rough.  How was your night on the town with our boys?”

 

“Oh, it was pretty fun I guess,” I responded half-heartedly.  “Not too eventful.”

 

And then I felt my jock strap snapped from behind and Travis’s hands on my ass.  I clinched my gluten as an attempt to indicate the touch wasn't welcome.  He inched his naked body closer to mine anyway.  I’d awoken the big dicked, skinny stranger  with this phone call, and it was apparent he wasn’t going to make chatting with Brad easy.

 

Travis parted my ass cheeks with his hands as I tried to ignore him and pay attention to Brad, and then Travis inserted his first finger.  As he began his single finger fuck of my tight hole, the fact that his poz spunk was still buried in me was on the forefront of my mind.  And then a second finger slid in alongside the first.  I grimaced.  And then a third finger made its way inside me.  In any other situation I would have yelped in pain, but I remained silent for Brad.

 

“What  you up to today?” Brad asked, as Travis began assaulting my fuck chute with his callused fingers.  He worked my hole, shoving his digits in and out, twisting them with each entry.  Occasionally I felt his finger nails scraping against my tender anus wall.  It was all I could do not to make an audible response to the act.

 

And yet, my dick began to harden.

 

“Not totally sure.  Probably just laying low.  How about you –-  are the meetings going well?”  I asked as I felt Travis’s whiskers on my neck, kissing me, sucking on my jugular.  I would certainly have a hickey from this.

 

I lost track of the conversation as I was focused on not reacting to the man molesting me from behind. 

 

As Brad began going over the list of colleagues who were getting on his nerves, Travis withdrew his fingers.  I then felt his dick being guided up and down my ass crack, leaving a slimy trail of precum.  “Fuck no, surely he’s not gonna try to fuck me now?” I thought to myself as I tried to move away toward the edge of the bed.

 

But as Brad continued the monologue against his coworkers, the tip of Travis’s monster cock found my hole.  Travis’s arm wrapped around me to hold me close, and I had no option but to grit my teeth and accept the entry of his big dick.

 

Travis wasn’t in the moment for romance or to be gentle: he wanted to mark his bitch.  He wanted me to get caught.  He wanted to claim me as his own.  He wanted to emasculate Brad.

 

He slammed his mostly dry cock deep in me.  I winced and fought the urge to scream.  It hurt like hell.

 

He withdrew most of his shaft from me and then thrust forward into my body again.  And again.  And again.

 

Brad then started talking about recent discussions with his family about summer vacation plans. I was successfully masking the intrusion into our marriage by remaining quiet, with occasional banter to keep the conversation going (things like “oh wow,” and “that’s great”).

 

Travis pulled my hair as his fuck pace increased.  He wanted to cum in me before Brad hung up the phone.  I instinctively ground my ass backwards into him, enabling his dick to go deeper and deeper inside me.

 

My own dick was now throbbing and was leaking precum onto our sheets.  Brad took hold of my cock and began stroking it in rhythm with his pounding of my hole.

 

My breath was becoming short. 

 

Travis was close.

 

I was getting close. 

 

Travis picked up his pace.

 

Brad began to wonder about the change in my breathing.  “Everything ok there?” 

 

“Yeah” I said, thinking quickly and seeing the dog bed in the corner, “Molly and I are playing tug of war with her chewey.  Sorry lover, go on.”

 

Brad continued speaking, until finally Travis slammed his body into mine and let out a guttural sound.  “unnnnnnnnnnhhhhhh.”

 

Another batch of his poz dna had been injected deep inside me.

 

“Oh fuck” I said, and then recovered “Brad, I gotta take Molly out now.  Can I call you back later babe?” 

 

“ummm – ok?  Sure. " He said, unsure of what was happening on my end of the phone. " Have a great day lover and call me back later!”  Brad said as we ended the call.

 

With his dick still pulsing out poison sperm into my ass, Travis jerked my dick until I began spurting my neg cum onto the sheets. 

 

“Your pussy of a husband will never fuck you again, slut.   Mark my words, slut.  You’re mine.”

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