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It’s difficult to get away from him, the BF. Love him dearly and all that, but I like my own space and I need to be used. A lot. And by a lot of different cocks. A lot of dudes I’ll never see and never know. So, when he’s asleep. Flat out upstairs, I invite them over. The unknown cocks. Leave the door unlocked. Wait in the dark, bent over, pre-lubed, poppered up. Praying. Begging some almighty god I don’t believe in to let them come. And they do.


It’s worse than when I first started going to saunas. Lying face down on the plastic covered mattresses and waiting. Hoping someone would come in and load me and terrified they might, all at the same time. It’s worse because there’s the waiting, but there’s the listening too. Checking I can still hear the snoring. Checking there’s no movement upstairs. A long, deep sniff of poppers will throw your hearing range out of whack. Fill your ears with blood. Rush it around your temples faster than he can fuck you. 


So you freeze in the dark. Bent over the chair. Wait for the soft click of the door handle. Then you sniff. You let him ease in, except there’s no easing, not this time. This time, he slides balls deep upon entry. And he’s got one of those long, thick cocks that thickens even more at the base. Stretches your hole every time he pushes in just a little deeper. But you can’t moan or groan. Can’t call out for him to stop. You can’t make a sound at all. Just listen. Listen to the blood pulsating in your ears. Listen for the snoring above. Paranoid you’re hearing creaks and footsteps. But he doesn’t care. He keeps pulling all the way out, all eight, thick inches, then all the way in, right down to his balls.


He thrusts and thrusts, taking your breath away and leaving your hole stinging. The rustle of his jacket, the slap of his balls against your cunt seemingly deafening in the dark.
Quicker and faster and less discreet until he drives so far in there’s no going back. You're wet. Dripping. And he rests, just for a second before ripping himself out of you, zipping up and walking away. You're done in. Your hole feels stretched and exhausted. Fatigued. And you wait for the spots to fade in front of your eyes.


There's a vibration. Your phone. No springing chirp of Grindr. Just a flash of yellow and a quick buzz. 'Thanks,' he says, and you watch his profile slipping further away.

Another buzz. You reply. Bend over. Wait for the click of the door for cock number two to violate your cum filled ass.


Thrust. Cum. Rinse and repeat.
 

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