Dangerous Weekend (1)

It was one of those days. Everything about the day was perfect: beautiful spring weather, flowers blooming, a light breeze blowing, low pollen count, and a cloudless blue sky. It was the kind of day that only happens after a massive rainstorm the day before. It was the kind of day you just have to be outside. Added to that, I have a great job working in finance, make a ton of money, and I am advancing in my career. At 28, I still workout regularly, maintaining a body that all the women in the office lust after. I date women in order to keep my family from asking too many questions about my personal life. I fuck young (legal) twink boys on the DL, though. I love making them squeal with delight as my gym toned muscles hold them down as my 8 inch cock slides in their holes. I stand at 6'1, and I weigh in at 190. Dressed in my designer suits, I'm the quintessential young professional, and there are a lot of young gay guys that love getting dicked down by guys like me. I'm in the closet to most people, and even those that know I fuck guys think I'm just bi. Based on my musculature, all the guys I pick up want me to fuck them, and I'm happy to oblige.

On this day, I should have been happy and perfectly content with my life. I should have been enjoying nature's beauty, and the perks of my good life and good body. I should have been reliving the pleasure of the twink I brought home last night. I love fucking guys. I love topping them, dominating them, getting my pleasure in their asses. I love breeding a guy, knowing when he leaves my place that he's walking around carrying my load in his ass. But instead of focusing on the good, I was throwing myself one hell of a pity party.

What did I have to feel sad about?  Honestly, I'm not sure. I knew I have a great life, but deep in my subconscious, there was a nagging sense that there was more. I felt that I was somehow missing something. That even when I was dominating a guy, I was just playing a part, or pretending to be something I'm not. Today, that feeling had bubbled up to the surface, and I was in a fowl mood. I was horny as fuck, but didn't want any of my normal fuck buddies. In fact, I couldn't really say what I wanted. There was an elusive desire for something that scared me, and I didn't know how to articulate, even to myself, what that was. That uneasy desire for more drove me outside during my lunch hour, sitting at a picnic table in the park across the street from my office building. Several people stopped to talk, but the look on my face drove them on pretty quickly. I didn't want to engage with people, and I didn't want to eat. I just wanted to sit and wallow in my misery, grumpy and alone.

The roar of a motorcycle engine pierced through my angst and caught my attention. I watched as the rider pulled the bike into the parking lot, then stepped off. He was tall, easily 6'-4", and the leather gear that he wore struggled to contain the bulk of muscle underneath. As he removed his helmet, I could see his dark hair, his dark beard, and his dark, almost black eyes. His swarthy features were set against tanned skin that almost glowed. He was an incredibly masculine, yet stunningly beautiful man. My mouth dropped open in awe, and I could not take my eyes off this dude. This man was all man, and just one look made me harder than I'd ever been in my life. There was something dangerous, yet wildly appealing about this massive, dark stranger wearing all black leather. We were clearly living in different worlds, and suddenly I found myself wanting to know more about him and his world! He was the complete opposite of the guys I normally picked up.

The man locked up his bike, rested his helmet on the handlebars, and then turned and scanned the park. As his gaze fell on me, I blushed crimson, knowing that he caught me staring. But somehow, I couldn't look away! From that point on, his eyes stayed on me, holding my gaze, captivating me. Smirking, he began walking toward me, letting me know he knew I found him irresistible. My heart rate increased as I realized he was headed my way, and I turned my head, trying to pretend to look elsewhere. But every few seconds, I glanced back to see him getting closer and closer to me, unwavering in his approach.

I was intensely aware of the public nature of this situation. People were all around us, enjoying the park on their own lunch breaks. I couldn't get caught cruising a dark stranger who just rode up on his motorcycle! In my peripheral vision, I could still see him coming closer, moving toward my table. His stride was purposeful, his gate authoritative. This was a man who knew what he wanted, and was on a mission. Could it be that he was after me?

He reached my table, and forced me to look up at him as he asked, "Mind if I sit here?" His hands indicated the other side of the table. It was asked as a question, but he did not wait for my reply as he sat down, watching my face the entire time. I nodded, too nervous to trust my voice to speak as I took in the leather clad muscle man who just rode into my life, and I'll admit, into my future jack-off sessions! Up close, he was breathtaking. He was everything a real man is supposed to be. I could even see a tuft of chest hair at the zipper line of his jacket. I was jealous of men with chest hair, wishing I could grow some on my muscular, yet naturally smooth torso. I felt a sense of thrill, and fear, as he sat down. I tried to look away, but I kept stealing glances at him as he sat there, both ignoring me and holding my attention. I got the real sense that he was spending most of his time studying me as he gazed out over the park.

Finally, he spoke again. "You're dressed pretty fancy for a day at the park!" He chuckled as he spoke, his deep voice resonating with masculine energy.

I looked up, briefly meeting his gaze, then answered, "Just hanging out here on my lunch break. I work over there," I finished, pointing to my office. Why did I tell him where I worked? Even I could tell my voice sounded nervous and squeaky in my reply to him. He smirked again, and I looked away again. I couldn't admit, even to myself, that this man was turning me on. I knew that an encounter with him wouldn't be like the twinks I normally pick up. This was a man that would be in control. There was a charge in the air, a tension that terrified me. I felt like this man was a predator, and I was feeling more and more like the prey. It was as if the universe had heard my pity party, knew that I was looking for something more, and sent me this man to introduce me to what I had subconsciously desired. But I couldn't give in. This was not who I was! I'm a man in charge of my life! I'm the predator when I hook up with guys!

I pretended to be preoccupied with emails on my phone, and turned away from the man, my back to him as I turned sideways to straddle the bench I was sitting on. I decided to communicate through body language that I wasn't looking for what he was offering, whatever that was! He didn't say anything else, and a moment later I felt the table shift as he got up. I guess he got the message that I wasn't interested. My hard-on screamed that I was interested, but I couldn't give in to whatever this was. I glanced back to see him standing, looking at me. Then he moved to go.

Only, he didn't leave. Instead of walking away, he apparently walked around to my side of the table, and straddled the bench behind me. I felt him slide up close behind me as a leather gloved hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. In seconds he had manhandled me back against him, taking what he wanted. Up this close, I could tell he was much bigger and taller than me. I felt small as he held me there. I could smell his cologne and masculine scent as his presence surrounded me. I felt his lips on my neck, just below my ear, nuzzling against me. I moaned involuntarily, admitting what he already knew: I wanted him.

"I know boys like you," he said.

"Boy?" I thought. I'm not a boy. I'm a man. I wanted to scream no, but I was immobilized by a hunger for more.

He didn't give me time to protest, just kept on with his description of me. "You're deep in the closet. You flirt with women, go out with women, maybe even fuck women. You also fuck guys on the side, and you've convinced yourself that's all you need. You've got muscles, and this nice body (he was running his hands over my pecs and arms as he said that), you've got the job and clothes to prove that you're a hot young stud. You're a good catch for all those women, as well as the gay boys, that are after you. There's probably a line of little twinks waiting for you to take them to your bed. But deep down, in places you refuse to think about or admit, you know there's something missing. You've got the perfect life, but sometimes you feel like you're faking it, pretending to be a man. But when a real man comes along (he accentuates "real man" by pulling me tighter against him), you begin to realize that you need to submit, to give yourself to a real man." With this last statement, he dropped his right hand down to my crotch and grabbed my hard cock through my pants. Simultaneously, his left hand slid into the back of my pants and pressed my underwear into my crack and against my hole.

No one had ever touched my hole before, at least not in a sexual way.

I shivered, overcome with lust and terror at this very public act of seduction. "Thought so," was all he said as he groped me in public, feeling my arousal. I was horrified at how paralyzed I was by my own desire for this man, how much I wanted to give in, to admit he was right about me. I suddenly realized that what I had subconsciously wanted, what I couldn't bring myself to admit, was that I only wanted him to make me his bitch. I didn't want anyone to see my submission to him. I wanted to keep the public persona I'd built. But there was also no where else in the world that I'd rather be than pressed back against this man. I wanted to give in to the one who wanted to take my virgin ass and turn me into his personal fuck toy.

"Guess what, baby?" he continued in my ear. "I'm going to take you, and show you what a real man is. You don't have to say anything," he continued, his voice deep and hypnotic in my ear. "I already know you want it. So, I'm going to give you a once in a lifetime opportunity. Be back here at this table today at 5 pm sharp, and I'll take you home. And then I'll give you what you need. If you're not here, I'll just find me another boy." Finished with his offer, he bit my earlobe gently, then said: " I won't offer this again. But I know you'll be here at 5." With that said, he stood.

Turning to me before he left, he said, "Cancel any plans you have for the rest of the weekend." Then he turned and walked away. I watched him walk toward a building across the street, off to run errands or conduct some business, acting as if nothing had changed. Walking as if he hadn't just turned my world upside down.

After he had gone, I sat there, stunned, for about 15 minutes. I had to wait for my cock to soften. I looked around to see if anyone had seen our encounter, but I didn't see anyone I recognized, and everyone around seemed lost in their own worlds. Did that really just happen? I looked over at the parking lot to make sure that I hadn't imagined the entire scenario. Sure enough, his Harley was parked there, proof that he had been real. Finally, I stood, and began making my way back to the office, in a daze. My frustration from this morning was replaced by a sense of fear, yet intense desire.

I battled my own thoughts all afternoon. Should I go? It was a bad idea to meet a complete stranger and give up my weekend. I went back and forth about whether or not I would be at the table at 5 pm. I had difficulty getting any work done, which was unusual for me. By 4 pm, my sense of responsibility had won out, and I had decided not to meet the man. I didn't know his name or anything about him. It would be incredibly stupid to trust someone just because his powers of seduction worked on me. I knew nothing about him, and he seemed scary and a little (a lot!) dangerous. It was smart to avoid danger. I decided I was making the right decision, the smart decision.

At 4:45, I surprised myself by beginning to pack up. I tried to tell myself that it was because I was done with my work, and it was Friday, so I could afford to head out a little early. By 4:55, I was walking toward the park, telling myself it was because I had to walk past it to get to the subway station. At 4:58, I was seated at the same table from lunch, waiting for the man. As much as I didn't want to give in, the deeper need was too great. I had to find out what I was missing. This man had effectively seduced me, and my subconscious wouldn't let me deny it. He had already made me his. Even if I couldn't admit it to myself, I wanted what he offered.

At 5:00 sharp, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind me. "Let's go," an already familiar deep voice said as the man walked past the table and kept walking toward his bike. I jumped up and hurried to follow him. He strode over to his motorcycle, grabbing his helmet and pulling another helmet out from a side bag. Then he turned back to me as I stepped up.

"From this moment on, you do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it," he said. His voice was commanding, not stern, although I could tell that he could be stern if needed.

"My name is Mike," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"I don't care what your name is," he replied darkly. "This weekend, I'll call you Bitch. And you will refer to me as Sir."

"Yes, Sir," I responded meekly.

"Good boy," he said, smiling, patting the side of my face. He handed me the helmet, watching as I put it on.

"Ever ridden on a motorcycle?" he asked. I shook my head no. "Okay, just hold onto me, and lean when I lean."

He climbed on the bike, then reached for my hand. He pulled me on as I swung my leg over the seat behind him. Then he started the bike, the engine roaring to life under our legs. He must have had a microphone system in the helmets, because I heard his voice in my ear say, "Put your feet on the footpegs, arms around my waist and hold on!" I grabbed onto his body as he revved the engine and then pulled away toward the parking lot exit. I knew that we looked like a strange pair. He was decked out in biker's leather, and I was in my suit. He looked like a tough man, and I his dainty date, clinging on for dear life as we careened our way toward my new destiny.

As we got on the road, I found that I liked the freedom of being on the motorcycle. I would probably like it even more if I were wearing more appropriate clothing. The warm spring day began to feel chilly as the air swirled around me as we sped toward his house. I held onto him, finding a sense of safety in his ability to maneuver the bike through traffic. I was trusting this man with my life, and yet I still didn't even know his name. As close as I was clinging to him, I did come to recognize his smell. I found it incredibly arousing. Even as we wove through the streets toward his house, I felt myself getting hard. He felt it too.

"You've got a nice big cock for a bitch," he said through the mic. I didn't know whether to be proud or offended. But then again, there was no sense denying what was happening here. He'd made clear what roles we would play.

"Thanks, I think," I replied meekly.

"What was that, Bitch?" he said.

"I mean, thank you, Sir," I replied.

We made our way into a residential area, and then we were turning into a driveway. We had arrived at his house. I'd hung on so tightly that I had not paid much attention to how we got here. I didn't really know where we were, and I didn't know who I was with. Worse, no one in my life knew where I was or what I was doing. Why in the hell did I come with him? What was I thinking?

These thoughts were bouncing through my brain as the man dismounted, then held out his hand to help me off the bike. We both removed our helmets. "Follow me," he said simply. As he turned, he caught sight of his neighbor across the street, and shouted a hello, waving. Then, in full sight of his neighbor, he turned back and slapped my ass, grabbing a handful after making contact and then pushing me toward the door. I could hear the neighbor laughing as he shouted, "Have fun, boys!" to us from his yard. I felt humiliated, being paraded around as his newest fuck boy, his neighbor having no doubt as to my fate as I walked in the house. My closeted persona hated being outed this way. Up until today, I had chosen who I shared that secret with. But even worse, he was outing me not as a masculine top, but as the Bitch that was about to let this stranger fuck me! Even so, the desire to feel that something deeper kept me going into this strange new world.

He stepped around me and unlocked, then opened the front door. I was ushered inside, and the sound of the door closing echoed in my ears much louder that the actual sound. To me, it represented no going back. Now, I was alone with the man who wanted me to call him Sir. He indicated he was going to keep me all weekend. I could scream, but he was bigger and stronger than me. My resistance would do no good. There was no way out except forward, accepting my fate.

We had walked into the living room, and I looked around briefly. But before I could really take it all in, he had moved in behind me, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me back against his chest, reminding me of his physical strength, and the power of his seduction of me. Once again he was nuzzling my neck, nipping at my earlobe.

"I just love breaking in a new bitch," he groaned in my ear. "You're all nervous now, worried about what's going to happen. You're shy, afraid of giving in to the pleasure that awaits. You've spent your life thinking that to be a bottom makes you less of a man, and so you've overcompensated. You've built the body, you've got the job, you look to the world like a real man. But the truth is, deep down, you're just a Bitch. You may sport a big cock, but you long for another man to put his cock in you, turn your asshole into a pussy for his pleasure. You're a bitch, and this weekend, you're My Bitch!" He was saying all of this as he ground against me, finding and touching pleasure points on my neck and running his hands all over my body. I was putty in his hands, my head already falling back against his shoulder as I gave in to his lead. I moaned, my cock already rock hard just from this moment of body contact. He was fucking with my head, and I was happy to let him.

"Yeah, that's it," he continued. "Let your man show you who you really are. Then you can stop pretending. Then you can be yourself."

He then stepped back and began pulling my suit coat back and off. I moved to let him begin undressing me. So far, this was the single most sensual experience of my life. I didn't know that removing clothing could be sexual, but it was. After my jacket was off, I heard the zipper of his leather motorcycle jacket open, and he removed it. Then he stepped back up, his arms surrounding me at chest level. Grabbing the two sides of my button up shirt, he yanked them apart, buttons scattering all over the floor as they flew off. My now ruined shirt joined my jacket on the couch. He must have been shirtless under the jacket, because when he pulled me back against him, the smooth skin of my back came into contact with his muscular hairy chest. Then, I felt him kneel behind me, his arms sliding down my sides sensually as he knelt. His hands found my belt buckle, unhooking it, then pulling my belt off. Still kneeling behind, he reached down and untied my shoes, and helped me step out of them, his hands running up my legs as he worked my socks off as well. Then he unbuttoned my pants and pulled them off, helping me step out of them as well. Finally, he stood again, as I stood there in my designer briefs. This time, he ran his hands down my sides again, and under the elastic of my underwear, his hands groping and grabbing the meat of my ass, skin to skin. Using the leverage of his hands inside the briefs, he moved them down off my hips, letting them drop to the floor. My cock, once freed, slapped up against my belly. I was standing in the living room of this stranger, inside for less than two minutes, and I was naked, turned on, and completely unsure of what would happen next.

"Damn, that's a fine ass," he said gruffly as he  came up behind me again, pulling me back against him, holding me tightly in his arms. "I have a couple of rules," he said, against speaking low and deep in my ear. "I need to hear you say, 'Yes, Sir' after each rule."

"Yes, Sir," I replied, unsure if that was the first rule.

He chuckled at my eagerness to obey. "First, you remain naked while you're here," he said.

"Yes, Sir," I said. That should be easy.

"Second, you obey what I say when I say it," he continued. I started to answer him before he stopped me by saying, "and if you don't, I will punish you."

I paused. Punish? While I was considering what that might me, he stepped back and slapped my ass hard, spanking me. "I'm waiting, Bitch!"

"Yes, Sir," I answered quickly.

"Third," he went on, stepping back up to my ear, "I'm going to fuck you, and it will hurt the first time. You WILL NOT try to get away from me. You will accept my cock into your hole. You will give yourself to me."

"Yes, Sir," I said, resigned.

"Fourth, and finally," he said, "you will beg me to fuck you, beg me to put my cock in you. I will not fuck you until you beg for the privilege of having my dick in your pussy. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I replied.

"Now," he growled into my ear, "let's have some fun! First, go clean yourself out!" He led me to a bathroom, where he showed me all I would need to give myself an enema. "Come to the living room when you're done," he commanded, shutting the bathroom door. I followed the instructions and prepared myself. This in itself was a mind fuck, knowing that I was willingly preparing my ass to receive his cock. I was admitting by my actions that I was a willing bitch to this massive stranger! Finally finished with my first douche and subsequent shower, I walked naked out of the bathroom, back into the living room. He sat watching me from the couch.

"Damn, you're a hot bitch!" he said as he stood, ogling my naked body. He was still shirtless, but had his pants on. I still hadn't seen his cock. He walked to me, turning me to once against have my back against him. Then, he pushed me forward toward the arm of his couch. Once I was standing in front of it, he grabbed my hip with this left hand while his right hand pressed down on my back. He was bending me over the couch! Was he just going to fuck me right here, right now?

But it wasn't his cock I felt at my hole. Instead, I felt him kneel behind me, his hands on my ass cheeks, separating them, exposing my virgin hole. Then I felt his breath on my hole a second before he gently licked it, touching me for the first time where no one had touched me before.

"Holy fuck!" I shouted, overcome by the pleasure of just that one light touch.

He chuckled behind me, his laugh vibrating on my ass. Even that felt pleasurable! Then he just attacked my ass, licking, pressing his tongue on my hole, then into my hole, opening me up. His beard scratched across my hole in exquisite agony. My head was thrown back and I sounded exactly like a bitch, moaning and squealing. More importantly, I didn't care what he or anyone else thought of me! I just wanted to keep feeling this pleasure! I had no idea how good this was. I'd rimmed a few of my bottoms, but never really enjoyed it. If I ever fucked another guy, I would definitely do this to him! I couldn't believe how good it felt, and how much it made me want to submit to him! He was a master at rimming. My cock was leaking precum, and I could feel myself relaxing and opening for him. I knew for sure that all of my sexual encounters from here on would include a tongue on my asshole!

Just as I thought the pleasure could not get better, he leaned back and slapped my ass! It hurt, yet felt strangely erotic, and added to the intensity of the situation. I gasped from the slap, simultaneously feeling him lean up over my back, his hand coming to my mouth.

"Get that finger wet," he commanded. I opened my mouth, taking the finger he presented and sucking it into my mouth like a small cock. I slobbered over it, then he pulled it out, knelt back down, and pressed the finger wet with my spit into my virgin hole. I hissed from the penetration, feeling something enter my ass for the first time.

"Relax!" he said sternly, slapping my ass with the other hand while beginning to slide his finger in-and-out of my ass. The intensity of the penetration diminished as my hole stretched and got used to his finger. I tried a breathing technique to relax, and that seemed to work. I felt him spit on my hole, adding lube as I felt a second finger join the first, spreading my hole open even further. I tensed up again, and he slapped my ass again. I started breathing again, and felt myself relax as he moved the two fingers around and in-and-out of my ass hole.

Suddenly, his finger flicked across a place in my ass that felt incredible and intense all at the same time. "OOOHH!" I gasped. I once again heard his signature deep chuckle.

"There's your spot!" he said, beginning to move his finger over it, pressing against it. The pleasure and intensity amplified as he rubbed my prostate. I felt my legs naturally spread apart, wanting more of this pleasure. He chuckled yet again. "Everybody thinks you're this stud, but get my fingers in your ass, and your inner Bitch comes out!" I didn't even care, I just wanted this feeling to never stop! I heard him spit again, and then a third finger slid up alongside the other two, stretching my hole even further. This time, it didn't hurt as bad.

After about 5 minutes of finger-fucking me, he slid his fingers out and I heard him stand up. "Stay there!" he commanded. I remained bent over the arm of his couch as I heard him moving and rustling around behind me. I heard the top of a bottle pop open, and then I felt cool liquid on my ass hole, running down into my hole from where his fingers opened me up. He stepped up behind me and I felt his cock head rest on my hole. He had removed his pants and was now naked with me, ready to take me.

The man leaned over my back and presented a small brown bottle in front of my face. He placed it under one of my nostrils and said, "Breathe in." After I did, he moved it to the other nostril and repeated his instruction. The sweet smelling fumes quickly went to my head, and a warmth began to radiate out from my abdomen. I pressed my ass back against his cock, suddenly wanting it in me.

He chuckled again as he moved back with me, not letting me impale myself on his dick. "Do you remember rule 4, Bitch?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir," I whined, wanting him to just take me, not wanting to have to admit it out loud. But he was fucking with my head too. He wanted me to beg. He wanted me to hear myself beg him to put his dick in me. I couldn't claim he had raped me later on. I would have to admit that I'd asked for it.

"You gotta beg me for the privilege of taking my cock," he said sternly.

I gave in. "Please," I whispered, hoping that would be enough.

"Please what, Bitch?" he asked.

"Please," I repeated, pausing before I continued. "Please put it in."

"Not good enough," he replied. "Tell me what you want me to do to you!" He was growing more stern with each command. It was useless to resist. I knew what I wanted, and the only way he was going to give it to me was for me to admit it out loud.

"Please, fuck me Sir," I sighed, hearing the need in my voice, the weakness in my voice, the submission in my admission. I just asked a man whose name I don't even know to slide his dick (which I hadn't even seen yet) into my ass. This is not at all how I thought this day would go when I opened my eyes from sleep this morning!

The man pressed forward then, his slick cock pressing into my hole and about 3 inches slid in. "OHHH!" I shouted. "FUCK! THAT HURTS!" I said. "TAKE IT OUT!"

He slapped my ass hard. "Shut up, Bitch! I told you that I would fuck you, and you would beg me for the privilege. I also told you that it would hurt, and you were not allowed to try to get away from me. Now shut up, breathe, and relax." He punctuated that last statement with another slap to my ass. Surprisingly, the ass slaps helped to take my mind off of my hole, and made me relax. I felt another couple of inches slide in. "There you go," he said in a slightly less angry voice. "Take another hit of the poppers," he then said, handing me the little brown bottle.

I breathed in the fumes once again, and the warmth returned. Suddenly, it's like my body just relaxed into the sensations, and I felt his cock slide the rest of the way in. I felt his hairy pubes against my ass. He was balls deep in me. I had taken my first cock. I was this man's bitch, and I had begged him for the privilege!

He began moving, pulling his cock out slowly, just an inch or two, before pressing back in. Very quickly, he built up the pace until he was fucking me with a good, solid pace, his cock pulling out to the head, then pressing back in. Then he began picking up speed until he was slamming into my ass. I always wondered what my bottoms got out of getting fucked. Now I knew. I wanted him to go harder, to fuck me hard. I loved the pounding of his cock head against my prostate as he slammed into me. I loved getting railed by his cock. This was the "more" that my subconscious had been desiring. Getting fucked, I felt truly satisfied for the first time in my life. This is what I had been missing.

I took yet another hit of the poppers, and the pleasure in my ass amplified yet again. I could feel myself getting close to coming, just from his pounding of my prostate. I guess he could sense that as well, because he suddenly pulled out, stopping me from cresting over the edge of my climax. He grabbed my legs, and flipped me around so that my back and shoulders came to rest on his couch, and my ass was upturned by the arm of the couch. He set my legs on his shoulders, then pressed his cock back into my hole, sliding all the way in in one thrust. I had never been manhandled by another guy before, but he threw me around like I weighed nothing. It was just another reminder that I was his bitch. He was the man, he was in charge. He put me where he wanted me.

This position was so much more intense! When he was behind me, there was almost an out-of-body experience to being fucked. I could concentrate on the sensations in my ass. It was a detached kind of sexual experience. But now, I was seeing the face of the man who had his dick in me. I couldn't pretend that I was a real man just trying out ass play. I was the bitch, in the position of bitch, watching my man get his pleasure in my ass. I was getting fucked, and I was on my back willingly letting a man fuck me! Moreover, I was watching his facial expressions, and subconsciously moving to maximize his pleasure, trying to be a good sexual partner for him! This was another first for me. I'd never paid much attention to how my partners felt when having sex. I figured if I enjoyed it, they must have too. But now, I wanted him to like it. I wanted him to want to fuck me again. I knew that I needed this in my life, more than just this once.

He smirked as he looked down at me, holding my gaze, seeing my face flushed and my body awash in pleasure. He knew what his cock was doing to me. My eyes traveled down from his face to take in his meaty, hairy chest. I watched my legs on his shoulders, my feet bouncing in rhythm to his thrusts. My eyes moved down further, past his abs, to the place where we were joined. I still couldn't see his cock, but I certainly could feel it! On my back, his cock was hitting my spot with every thrust, and I could feel my climax building once again, even more intensely than before.

"OOOH!" I cried out. "YES! Fuck me! YESS!" The sounds coming from my mouth sounded nothing like the me I had tried to be. My normally deep, masculine voice sounded high and effeminate, needy even. My body had given in completely to this submission. More importantly, I didn't feel like I was playing a part. I felt like I was being who I was. That scared the shit out of me! But I couldn't deny the pleasure I was feeling as I raced toward orgasm.

"FUUUUCCCKK!" I shouted out as I crashed over the edge. I don't know how to describe it, other than to say, there's cumming when you're fucking someone, and then there's cumming when his dick is in you! It's completely different. My entire body felt like it was exploding with pleasure. My ass clamped down on his cock, spasming around his shaft as he fucked me through the entirety of my orgasm, maintaining a steady pounding of my hole that made my own climax last longer. In fact, the pleasure from his cock hitting my prostate was amplified after I shot all over my chest, and I felt like I was cumming from inside my ass, and the feeling didn't stop!

He kept pounding my hole as the sounds from me became unintelligible, just needy moanings of a bottom desperate to keep experiencing this pleasure. I watched him smirk, looking at me with the confidence of a predator who had conquered his prey. I continued spasming in the afterglow of my orgasm, and he picked up speed, ramming into my ass with full force. My grunts of pleasure matched the slap of his hips against my upturned ass. Finally, after about 5 minutes, his thrusts began to become more erratic, and after another minute or so of hard pounding, he thrust deep in me and held still.

I swear, I could feel his dick pulsing! He was cumming in my ass! I felt the warmth spread as his load shot from his dick, coating the inside of my ass with his seed. I had given myself to this man, and he had taken me, taken my virginity, fucked me and then bred me. He was the man, and I was his bitch.

Then it hit me! He had just fucked me raw, and then bred me! Shit! I always am so careful, always wearing a condom. One ride on a motorcycle with this mystery man, and I throw caution to the wind and don't even think about a condom.

He saw the look on my face. "Don't get all guilty on me now, bitch!" he said.

"You didn't wear a condom!" I replied indignantly.

He slapped my face, not to hard, but hard enough to get my attention. "You didn't ask me to," he smirked. "Besides, I don't wear condoms. I like fucking my bitches raw." He paused, watching my face, knowing that it didn't matter because he'd already shot in me. "Besides, I'm clean and your ass was virgin. I bet you always wear condoms when you've fucked guys before." I nodded bashfully. "So we're both clean, and got nothing to worry about."

"Yes, Sir," I said as I relaxed, realizing it no longer mattered anyway. I had been bred, and I couldn't go back from that.

Seeing me relax, his cock still stuffed up my ass, he leaned over me, his face now inches from mine as he bent me in half, my legs still up over his shoulders. "Now that we've got that pussy broken in, we won't have to worry about condoms for the rest of this weekend either!" Then, not giving me time to answer him, he closed the distance between us, his lips taking mine in a possessive kiss. As we made out for the first time, I realized that this man had claimed me completely. I would do whatever he asked.

Rising up from me, he finally slid his dick out of my hole, then pulled me up to stand in front of him. I saw his dick for the first time, and I was glad I hadn't seen it before! I would have been scared shit less, seeing his 10 inch monster! I couldn't believe that thing had just been inside of me! How in the hell did I take that the first time?

He smiled seeing my shocked reaction. "That's why I didn't let you see it before. I knew you could take it, and I didn't need you fighting me. I gave you what you need, and I've got a lot more of it to give you this weekend. We're just getting started," he finished.

I had only been at his house for less than an hour, and he'd turned me, fucked me, bred me, and made me his bitch! And I still don't know his name! What else did he have in mind for the rest of this weekend?

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Next Chapter: 2