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The boxer briefs hanging from one of his legs, aggressively pulled on and stretched out by the top’s fingers. Leading higher to the handprints still bright and angry red across his perfectly round cheeks.

 

He lies there almost calmly, his youth evident in the way he took the abuse. Nothing can hurt him. In a couple of days he’ll be fine. In a couple of days he’ll be as good as new and he will invite someone else to fill him, feel the roundness of his cheeks as they bounce hungrily up and down the girthy monster. And the boy loves to play with girthy monsters, loves to feel them stretch out his insides, pull on his guts and penetrate deep and hard.

 

The hole between the cheeks is tender, leaking. Before the top left, he held it tight and clenched, to please his top. He wanted to show appreciation, and to show him what a submissive and breedable slut he was, how much he loved the cum that the top had given him. And he did love it. It was all he had hoped for, all he wanted was to have a man’s cum inside him at the moment of breeding. But now that the top had left, he slowly relaxed his hole, still hurting from the beating it took, until the copious cum started leaking out of it, in slow, gentle trickles. Down his smooth taint towards his clean shaven small balls and his own leaking cock. He could barely move his arm around to feel his crack, slippery and smooth with all that tasty seed.

 

The top dressed and left him like this, in a daze, the condom still inside the half opened wrapper. It was him who chose to take the top bareback. It was inside him that the fire took over, his heart beating too hard to bear as his top undressed. He still saw the flashbacks of the biohazard tattoo on the tops lower belly, the area that made him the most horny. And the top was hot, which didn’t hurt one bit. His body was fit, his abs hard and glistening after the heavy petting, the hard muscular V leading to his crotch covered in short loose hair. And the mark that lay underneath the hair. It fascinated the boy ever since he first saw it a year ago. He was eighteen then and he found out about poz guys and how hot they were and how much he wanted to have one between his legs.

 

This played out almost the same as his fantasy, except in his fantasy he was always taken, fucked roughly *against* his will, his brows furrowed and sweaty as he struggled to take the cock that pushed against his almost virgin hole.

 

This was almost the same. After he saw the tattoo he went on his hands and knees, head down ass up. He wanted to be as slutty as possible. When the top breached him his brows did furrow, his body did sweat and he did moan in pain and in pleasure. But nothing was against his will. He wanted that cock. He needed it in him. He needed it to finish in him, cum inside his sweet, innocent hole and paint his guts white. He wanted to feel it shoot in his belly, like a girl might hope when she gets with someone whose kids she dreams of carrying. He needed this top, he needed to satisfy this guy, who suddenly seemed so much hotter than even the nudes he sent the boy before they met.

 

It did get closer to his fantasy, as his top proved to be aggressive when the opportunity presented itself. He drove hard and push the boy even harder into the bed until he was crushed under the muscular weight. He powered his cock in and out of the stretched out and abused hole, feeling the boy clench and unclench in an obvious attempt to milk the burning hot poz cum out of his balls.

 

Some time later, in a daze, the boy felt the top push the deepest he could go, driving the breath out of him, felt him breach even that second hole deep inside him and pulse. He just kept his cock buried as deep as it could be, his crotch kissing the boy’s hole, which after this could never even be mistaken for virgin, his thick shaft pulsing even thicker, and his heartbeat pushed the sizzling hot cum deep into the boy’s belly.

 

But it wasn’t until later that the top left him sprawled out like this, fucked silly and unable to move. No. The top now went into the bathroom to clean up, and the boy, not knowing when he should cut his loses followed. As the top washed his face and his hands and his cock, the boy planted kisses on the broad muscle of his back, he traced the thick glutes with his fingers and he reached with one hand to the top’s front, where he didn’t yet take the cock. Instead, he looked in the mirror as his fingers lightly grazed the tattoo, the object of his fascination. Neither said a word about it, they didn’t have to. But it was evident what the boy needed. He then lowered his hand and his fingers reached the skin of the cock.

 

It was big and heavy in his hand, hefty as he weighed it. But it wasn’t in his hand for long, as it quickly hardened, and his top turned around and picked him up only to prop him up on the sink, his left spreading wide instinctively. The top lined his cock up with his hole and sank right in again, their bodies revealed now in the stark light of the bathroom, the tattoo burning red, dangerous.

 

After that, the top went back to the bed to get dressed. If it was to entice the boy one more time or for some other reason, he did not know, but he began by pulling his shirt on first, his semi-hard cock still hanging low and thick. The boy couldn’t resist, of course, and cupped it into overflowing into the cup of his palm. He went down on his knees and took it down his throat until it hardened there again, and then he turned around and climbed on the bed, and presented himself on his hands and knees to the man who filled him with two loads of his poz cum already. The top once again forced him on his belly, now full of two loads, and pounded into him from above.

 

When the top left, he just left him like this, the boy unable to move or say anything. His cock was crushed under him, still semi hard, even after a torrent of precum and even cum was driven out of it, bubbling out of the glistening head as the top forced him to cum by battering the spot inside his hole. He never even touched himself, he was too busy holding on to the sheets and the bed frame, too busy maintaining balance so that his top's forceful shoves didn’t cause his head to hit the headboard. Too busy pushing himself harder onto the cock that was already giving him the roughest fucking he has ever experienced.

 

His hole will forever twitch at the thoughts and flashbacks to this moment: the boxer briefs still handing on one of his thighs, the half-opened condom, his cock excruciatingly hard, raw from rubbing against the sheets and bubbling, the three loads deep inside his belly, forced into his bare, unprotected hole, the red handprints on his otherwise smooth and round cheeks.

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58 minutes ago, pussyboy82 said:

Like a series of flashbacks....Well written. Imagine writing this if he was a they instead.....

Thank you for the feedback! You meant that it would be better if it were a gangbang? 😈 Yeah, that sounds hot, maybe good for a sequel 🤔

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2 hours ago, graceling said:

Thanks! What do you mean? Is there something you don't like about the writing? Feedback is welcome, I wanna improve.

I think they mean "great BIT OF writing". Phones do that autocorrect thing for those two words, not realizing the context of what is actually being said. 

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