Date: Mon, 13 Jan 2020 08:22:21 +0000
From: Clark Wayne <underarmour001@hotmail.com>
Subject: New Story- Escpades

ESCAPADES
By Clark Wayne
Underarmour001@hotmail.com


This is a true story that happened some years back. It was my slutty
phase. I embellished in places to add more to the story but only a
little. Enjoy.

A typical night at a gay club. The music was bad techno, alcohol was
watered down, and drugs were being snorted in the sleazy unisex
bathroom. This particular club is a staple of the gay community in this
city, it's been around forever. It's that bar you go to after you've
bar-hopped all night and everyone ends up there. The last bar you see
before waking up in some dude's bed with a sore ass and dried cum in your
hair.

I have a type. I like the butch guys; military, firefighters, cops, etc. I
was military myself, so I was used to that kind of dude; closeted or on the
down low. Hyper masculine or trying to be. Always jacked bodies.

I'm versatile. I go through spurts when I only want to top and then times
when I only want to bottom. I have no problem being strictly one or the
other for a certain kind of guy. A taller guy, built, aggressive, I'm going
to find myself with my ass stuffed full of his cock. Smaller guys; jacked
to lean, hot ass, I'm going to find my cock balls deep in his ass. If I'm
in a group situation, three-ways and four-ways are great, I prefer bottom,
the only bottom is even better. I don't know what it is but being on my
back, a hot dude railing on me and then without warning he yanks out and
another hot dude slides in is the perfect scenario. I often think a triad
relationship would be best for me. Two tops and me. Of course, two bottoms
and me as the top wouldn't me too shabby. Ok, now I'm just getting
distracted.

My point is, I like knowing a bunch of hot dudes are getting off on fucking
me. I'm a muscular guy, gym rat. I really pride myself on not being the
stereotypical gay guy. I'm not swishy, a purse doesn't fall out of my mouth
when I speak. Guys like bedding me down. I have one of those asses that
stands out; bubble, high and tight, very fuckable.

I like real men. Closeted dudes are the best, always masculine, no strings
attached, pump and dump, one and done. I think dudes got off on me because
I look straight and most of the time, they assume I'm a straight guy who
stumbled into a gay bar and decided to have my first homo experience. Truth
be told, I've played that part before. Gets me more attention. Gay dudes
love the idea of turning a straight guy. I'm guilty of that too. Nothing
better than seeing a straight dude's face, his eyes wakening to the
revelation that man-pussy isn't that bad after all.

This night in question found me at this club with a buddy. I hate to admit
it, but I don't really dance. I'm just too big and bulky? I'd rather "stand
and pose." I like to sip on a Rum & Coke, stand to the side and prowl. My
eyes are constantly scanning for that one guy who catches my eye and I
catch his. I am bothered all night by effeminate queens who like to squeeze
my arms or pat my ass. If he's built, I may throw him a line and string him
along. Get a nice make out session. But tonight, I'm on the hunt for
aggressive and masculine.

After an hour or so, I see HIM. He's about my height, perfect body, tight
t-shirt and a light brown buzz cut. He had me at buzz cut. That could only
mean one thing: military. And from his stance, his stone-like expression,
his dominating presence, this slice of meat was a marine.  I've been with
my share of marines. These guys fall into two categories: power top or
power bottom, no in between. These guys are trained to be tough and
aggressive. They can take emotion of the equation if need be. The power
bottoms take orders well and the power tops give them even better. Both
love rough sex, rough verbal sex. My experience with marines leads me to
believe that branch of the armed forces is the best to fuck around
with. Down and dirty, no holds barred fucking and breeding. Luckily, for
me, I happened to be their type. Classically handsome, square jaw, blue
eyes and built like a football jock and I can pass for straight. Being
military myself always works in my favor.

I saw him and assessed my strategy. I told my buddy of my intended target
and not to wait for me when it was time to leave. I pointed the marine out
to him and when I did, I got a zap of electricity. He was staring right at
me. I automatically looked down; I don't know why. I suddenly felt like I
was supposed to. His eye contact was so intense and direct. His eyes
drilled through me and like telepathy, I knew what he wanted. He fell into
the power top category, I could feel it. My look down was an automated
response showing submissiveness. I looked up at him and his gaze
continued. He lifted his beer slightly and gave a quick nod. I acknowledged
him doing the same. His massive arm flexed as he took a pull from the
bottle, his eyes never leaving me. My stomach flip-flopped and my mouth
dried up. My heartbeat raced. This guy was going to do some damage to me
tonight, I knew it.

We played cat and mouse for a while. Casually walking past each other,
checking out the other. We did this a few times as if we were both making
sure that goods met our standards. They did. His jeans were skin-tight
showing off thick powerful quads, a hot muscular ass. His combat boots
finished off the look. This guy was a stud. Then, my heart stopped a beat
because on his left hand was a golden wedding band. My ass twitched.

After getting my eye full for the third time, I went to the bar for another
drink. When I returned, he was gone. What the fuck?  I looked all over that
bar; upstairs, downstairs, bathrooms, pool tables, dart boards,
everywhere. Finally, I approached the door man and asked if he had seen a
gorgeous marine leave the building. He said he had. I was pissed. Pissed
beyond belief. That fucking closeted motherfucker. I was sure he was going
to pounce. What the fuck was his problem? Was I not good enough? Was I not
hot enough? No. That wasn't it. Couldn't have been.

Pissed off, I made my way back to my buddy and told him what happened. I
decided to go home and beat off thinking of what could have been.

I stood at the corner waiting for the stoplight to change so I could
cross. It was a warm night. I stood waiting, seething and that's when I
felt a presence behind me. Then warm breath and a low baritone whisper.

"I've got a huge cock. You have a hot ass. I want to nut inside you. I know
you want it. Let's go," he growled as he took hold of my elbow. Apparently,
I was going to go with him no matter what.

I stood silent. My heart was thumping hard. I slowly turned to face this
mountain of muscle. I looked down at his hand on my arm. I looked back up
to him with defiance. Don't get me wrong, I fucking loved it, but I was a
little taken aback by his brazenness. I find tops like it when a potential
fuck shows a little defiant hesitation. It makes them feel like they have
more power than they already do. This is what I wanted, what I needed. He
knew it. He read me like a fucking book. He was fucking bold, forward, no
holds barred, and I fucking loved it.

I stood up straight, toe to toe, nose to nose. I didn't want him to think I
was some gay muscle slut who was going to be told what to do, even though I
totally was. We stared each other down, his blue eyes were iridescent and
hypnotizing. He didn't smile, neither did I. He needed to know if I went, I
was going to be aggressive, rough and wanted the fuck of my life. It was a
privilege to nail me.

I calmly said, "Huh, ANOTHER marine. Hope you're better than the last one,"
I taunted, knowing that would make him more aggressive.

I tried to walk calmly to my truck, but I was really fucking horny. My
hands were shaking as I turned the ignition. I pulled out of the lot where
an SUV rental car was waiting. I followed it to a hotel downtown, my dick
hard as a rock in my tight jeans. I have a big dick, so it was a little
painful to have an eight-incher trying to bust its way out of my zipper. It
was a good pain though.

We parked and I followed him in past the reception desk that was staffed
with a cute frat boy type. He smiled at the marine and the marine nodded
back. No doubt frat boy was aware of what was happening. I wouldn't be
surprised if Marine nailed him earlier in the day. Or the boy at least told
him the best place to go to pick up a hot one-nighter.

The elevator ride was silent. He stood facing the doors, his arms crossed
over his chest, his feet in a wide stance, his face stone cold. I didn't
say anything either. I knew what this was. I knew this was a married,
closeted marine that took leave to another city so he could fuck dudes all
weekend long. I've been in this scenario many times.

He unlocked the room and I followed him in. When the door closed, he turned
quickly and slammed me against the door. His mouth came at me at breakneck
speed. He devoured my mouth as he continued to push his hard body into me
like he was trying to press me through the door. My head hurt from the
impact, but the pain was forgotten when his tongue forced its way down my
throat.

He took me by the shoulders, spun me around and tossed me on the bed like I
was a rag doll. He pounced hard, straddling me, taking my wrists and
holding them above my head against the headboard. Again, he attacked my
mouth. He was strong. I tried to fight back, to make myself look like I
wasn't a complete whore, but he was way stronger. He held me down, kissing
me, humping me. I could feel his thick, hard cock pressing against by
abdomen. He growled and snarled as he turned into a hungry animal who had
just caught his prey.

He suddenly flipped me over on my stomach and rutted his cock against my
ass. His simulated sex thrusts told me what I was in for. He kissed my neck
and ran his fingers through my hair and then down to my shoulders, kneading
the muscles. Before I knew it, he grabbed my right arm and maneuvered it
behind my back and inflicted a tiny bit of pain. I knew he could probably
break it in two if he wanted. I winced and yelped in pain.

Once again, the warm breath on my ear. "You cleaned out?"

I lay with my right cheek smashed on the pillow. I hadn't exactly counted
on that. I could tell he wanted a nice clean kill. Gay sex can be a
bit...messy if not prepared. Unfortunately, I was not. I told him I
wasn't. He let go of my arm, climbed off and pulled me up off the bed. He
pulled me into the bathroom. He reached for the showerhead, un-screwed it
and screwed on a douche attachment. Damn, this was obviously not his first
rodeo. It was awkward but then, if you saw this guy, you would rip off your
skin if he told you to.

"Clean yourself out. I don't want shit on my dick," he said as he walked
out and shut the door.

Ten minutes later, I appeared from the bathroom freshly showered and
clean. Marine was laying on the bed, naked, under a sheet that came up to
his waist. He had his arms folded behind his head like he had been waiting
for hours. His biceps were flexed, his pecs were pumped, his abs were
carved like stone. His dick was hard and tented the sheet.

He looked me up and down and nodded his approval.

"Suck me," was all he said as he nodded to the white sheet covering his
cock.

I didn't have to be told twice. I scrambled on to the bed, pulled back the
sheet and went down on the fattest, thickest cock I'd seen in a while. It
was perfect; eight inches, thick like a Red Bull can and a nice fat head. I
went to town on that thing. His fingers found my hair, he took a handful
and pushed my head down hard. He would pull my hair after a while, yanking
my slobbering face back before forcing it back down again. I opened my
throat and swallowed him; my nose buried in his short pubes. He growled
again and started to fuck my face, pushing down and yanking up faster and
faster. My eye filled with tears as I gagged. I tried to push up and away
as a struggled to breathe but he just pushed me down harder. My gagging
became worse and my muffled cries grew louder until he lifted my head off
his cock, he turned my head to face him. He smiled a fucking scary devious
grin.

"Nut number one," he said with a sexy gravelly voice as he pulled my hair
and pushed me down on to his cock again. He held me there and I felt his
ass and hips leave the mattress. He arched his back and howled as he shot a
huge sticky load down my throat. His body jerked and spasmed as he bred my
mouth. I swallowed as much as I could, trying to get as much of his DNA
into my gut. I craved his alpha essence inside me. It would fuel me for
days. I thought of it coursing through my veins, making me harder, tougher,
more aggressive. I would take on his traits as his cum manipulated my body,
forming new muscle that was dense and cut.

I sat up wiping residual cum from my lips. He sat there, out of breath,
that same fucking, cocky grin on his handsome face.

"Fucking great cocksucker," he said with an exhausted sigh.

"Fucking great cock," I said back.

"Come here," he summoned me with his index finger, his voice low and sexy
as hell. I leaned forward and he took me by the neck and pulled me in for a
long slow kiss. I'm a big guy but he showed little effort as he pulled me
in closer, twisted me so I was almost in his lap. He cradled me like a
baby, one big hand on my ass. While his tongue was snaking its way into my
throat, his finger found my hole. He rubbed it and slowly wiggled his way
in. I caught my breath as his fat digit sunk into my hole. My muscles
tensed; my ass flexed as he began to finger fuck my meaty ass.

I was panting, moaning as he added another finger and finger banged my hole
like I was a two-bit whore. He squeezed my ass with one hand, the other
between my legs fingering me. His skin was tan, smooth and warm. The
muscles in his neck flexed and his biceps bulged. This man was on a mission
and he was claiming his territory.

I threw my head back, "Fuck!" I yelled out in ecstasy.

He bit his bottom lip as he fingered me harder. His eyes boring into
mine. I could tell he really liked to be connected during his man
fucking. He looked at me like he'd known me a long time, like I was one of
his buddies, fighting side by side in the desert. Maybe I reminded him of
this man.

"Fuck," he whispered loudly. "Tight pussy."

I caught my breath again and smiled. He smiled back. He knew I liked
that. I realized at that moment that I was a holy grail for him. I was a
big, built, masculine stud that he could fuck like I was some hooker he
paid after a drunken night with his buddies.

I looked at him, stone faced, our eye contact intense. He jabbed his
fingers in hard and stopped. He curled his finger, rubbing my button. I
took in a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second before I opened them,
put my forehead to his and said, "You want this pussy?"

This time he took a breath. I had him. He loved that kind of fuck
talk. They were terms he could understand. I positioned myself so I was
hovering over his cock. I reached behind, stroked it, aiming it up.

"It's mine," he replied with a scary, serious sneer.

"Then get it," I growled as I slowly lowered myself down onto his cock.

"Fuck," we both sighed at the same time as I sank to the root. My eyes shot
open wide and my jaw dropped as the thick girth of his dick registered in
my head. I raised myself with my powerful quads and then lowered myself
again. He began to raise his ass, pushing up to meet me as I came crashing
down. The fucking grew harder, faster and rougher until I was bouncing up
and down. He put his hands on my pecs as they bounced with the rhythm. I
gyrated my ass down onto that thick meat trying to get as much as possible
inside me. This continued for what felt like an eternity until he howled
again, pushed up into me and growled, "Nut number two."

I still hadn't cum, but I didn't care. It was enough for me to see him get
off by using me. I don't think he cared anyway. It was about him, not
me. It was about him getting his nut, not mine. This was his time to feed
his desires that he kept hidden from his wife, probably a kid, his best
friends. Who knows how many times he'd done this? How many lies did he have
to tell his family so he could get away on his own so he could breed a guy
like me? He needed to leave that life he was stuck with if only for a
weekend. I was happy to be that distraction. Maybe, if I played my cards
right, I could be that distraction every time he was in town.

I expelled his monster from my ass and lay down next to him, both of us
panting, cum dripping from my hole. Fuck, I loved looking at this hulk,
seeing his fucking alpha masculinity and knowing his cum was in my hole. I
wanted more.

"How much time do you need to recover?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a hoarse sounding voice. All that
yelling will do that to you.

"Alright. Next?" I asked with a cocky tone.

"Fuck, you're a fucking machine. I like fags like you. Real man who can
take a real man," he said has he patted me on the chest. Ok, so now I know
that he doesn't think of himself as gay. That's ok with me. Like I said,
closeted ones are the hottest. Who knows what his malfunction is? I don't
care as long as I get to reap the rewards of his fucked up psychological
issues.

"Yeah...a machine," I said sarcastically.

"Why don't you get on your back and raise that sexy ass up for me," he
ordered.

"Yes, Sir," I saluted as I moved down and lay on my back. He appeared at
the foot of the bed where he grabbed my hips and pulled me down until my
ass was at the edge.

What a fucking god. He lifted my muscular calves onto his massive
shoulders. He aimed his dick at my hole and sunk in. I fisted the bed
sheets and let out a moan. I looked up at him and he had a shit-eating grin
on his face. He backed out and then sank back in. His abs flexed with each
slow thrust.

"Mmmm...tight pussy," he said again. That made me smile.

He wasted no time jackhammering my butthole, bending me like a fucking
pretzel when he wanted a kiss. My knees up near my ears before leaning back
and holding my ankles out. He split me open, holding my legs out wide like
a wishbone. Every muscle flexed in his torso as he held nothing back. All I
could do was lay there gripping the sheets, biting my lip and crying. The
more I loved it the more he did too. Every time I yelped or squealed, he
grinned. He got off on that. He got off on making a dude like me squeal
like a schoolgirl.

It was when he held my legs straight up in the air by my ankles that I knew
I could fucking marry this man. The strength and stamina of this fucking
amazing man, holding the legs of my two-hundred-ten-pound muscular body in
the air above me was intoxicating. I wanted to cum, but I also wanted to
wait until the end. I wanted to wait until the end of this fuck-fest
because I will cum the hardest I ever had knowing I got him off so many
times.

Then, like the last two times, he stiffened, pulled my legs up higher until
my ass was not touching the bed, bellowed out, "Nut number three," and
ejected more batter into my oven.  His skin flushed, his teeth clenched,
and his body flexed with each volley until he collapsed onto my chest,
sweat dripping, chest heaving. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He
leaned up and kissed me again. For a guy who doesn't consider fucking other
dudes up the ass as gay, he sure does like kissing dudes. Not that I'm
complaining. But then who knew who he saw when he looked at me. For all I
know, he was picturing his wife, or a girlfriend, or that best friend from
high school who used to jerk him off behind the bleachers. Who knew? Who
cares?

"How you doing, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart? What? Ok, that's weird. But it was then I noticed his southern
drawl. Either he didn't have it before, or he always had it, but it was
buried. Like after you've been gone from home for a while, that accent
disappears but comes back each time you visit. I guess fucking brings it
back. Whatever it was, it was fucking charming as hell. A little southern
charm, I guess. But I'm not used to a guy railing me and then calling me
sweetheart.

"Uh...I'm holding up...dude," I replied awkwardly, trying to remind him
that he just fucked the shit out of a dude and not his "sweetheart."

"Good. I am not through with you yet," he promised as he gave me a gentle
slap on my cheek.

Moments later I found myself leaning on the desk in front of a mirror as I
watched the big chiseled marine pound me from behind. "Fuck, tight pussy,"
he grinned again. Apparently, that was his go-to line? He stared at me in
the mirror, his teeth clenched, sweat dripping from his forehead. I watch
him. I watched him fuck me as if he had never fucked anyone before. He
fucked like he was trying to prove something. He reached up and pulled my
hair, yanking my head back. He pulled my hair like they were reigns of a
horse. I was a horse to him, a stud, his steed that he had broken. No
matter how much I could buck, he would stay on this horse for the whole
eight-seconds.

He pushed my head down so I could see us in the mirror again. He slapped my
ass hard.

"Look at that, sweetheart," he panted.

I looked up at his reflection, my head jerking up and down. My biceps
swollen as I struggled to keep myself upright.

"Look at you, getting your pussy pounded by a real man. Fucking faggot." He
extenuated each word with a thrust. Again, there was that word, faggot. I
didn't know if this was roleplay or some serious psycho bullshit where he
stabs me after his last nut. Some self-hating gay bullshit.

"You like this, don't you? You like being treated like this? Fucking
pathetic," he said through clenched teeth, a look of disgust on his face.
I kept quiet. The talk was half pissing me off and half turning me on. "You
came with me without a fucking fight. What kind of man willingly follows
another man to a hotel room and lets him fuck his ass like a pussy?'

He wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled up. His chest to my back
now. His mouth on my ear. "Tell me, when did you realize you were good for
nothing but getting fucked by real men? Huh? Look at you, big stud,
throwing your weight around, showing off that ass. Strutting around like
your hot shit. Well, look at you now, muscleman."

I looked up at him, my face flushed with anger. Who the fuck did he think
he was? But then, he did have a point. I followed him without hesitation
but then what red-blooded-American-man wouldn't? We think with our
dicks...and our asses.

"Tell me you like it," he sneered.

I was silent but still taking his fuck. Let's not be hasty.

"Say it!" he yelled with a slap to my ass. I winced.

"I like it," I said quietly between pants.

"What, faggot?" he asked with another slap.

"I like it!" I yelled back.

"Are you a worthless piece of pussy?"

"Yes. I am," I said back. I've never been talk to like this before but man,
was it turning me on.

"Want me to cum in your pussy, faggot?"

"Yes, Sir. Cum inside me, again."

"Look at your pathetic fucking face as I shove another load in your cunt."

And for the fourth time that night, "Nut number four!"

He thrust so hard that my head hit the mirror. He came up on his toes as
his body tensed up and flexed, injecting another hot load into my ass. He
slowed to a stop, leaned over my back, his dick still inflated inside my
hole.

"Nut four, sweetheart. You made this country boy very happy tonight. Tell
you what, you have such a nice pussy, I'm going to fuck you every time I'm
in town." He pulled back and then slid back in. "Would you like that? Huh?
Get my marine cock in your tight pussy. Remind you what it feels like to be
a man's pussy? It's a fucking privilege, cocksucker."

I turned my head and my lips brushed against his. "I would be honored."

"Good boy. Don't think I haven't noticed you ain't nutted yet. Normally, I
could care less but I like you. You're fucking fun. Big boy built to take a
fuck. You're fucking hot as shit too." He slowly began another fuck
rhythm. My eyes rolled back in my head from the constant grazing of my hot
spot.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'll be calling you up next time I'm in town. Hell, I
may make a special trip just to fuck your amazing hole." The more he talked
the more aroused I became. "I got a buddy who may want to meet you." He
kissed my cheek. "We share," he said before he bit my earlobe.

Oh my god, this man is a fucking god. "You'd like that. Let two hot marines
use your pussy for a couple of days?" I was getting close.

Then the next thing he said sent me over the edge. His warm breath in my
ear. His tongue gently licking my lobe. "I fucked you like I fuck my wife."

BOOM! I exploded so hard that my cock hurt. I have never cum so hard, ever,
never. I lost all muscle control and my legs gave out. He took my hips and
held me up as cum continued to drain from my body.

He chuckled as he slowly backed up and sat slowly down on the bed with me
still impaled on his cock. I sat on him; my legs stretched out as every
muscle in my body froze. I thought I was going to cramp. I stroked my
fucking cock until nothing else would come out. I relaxed as I sat back
against his chest, exhausted. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me
tight. He kissed my shoulder and whispered, "Nut number five." Once again,
I felt his cock pulse and warmth filled my already filled hole.

We settled back on the bed, laying there not saying anything for a long
time.

"You tell anyone about this, I will kill you," he told me. He was serious.

"Dude, I promise I won't tell anyone. Who would I tell?"

"It doesn't matter. This is not my first time here. I don't need a bunch a
fags comparing notes and then it gets back to me somehow. All you guys
gossip like little bitches."

"I'm not telling anyone. I don't have a lot of gay friends anyway."

"Yeah, I could tell you were different. You looked like a fish out of
water."

"Me? You should see how you look standing in a gay bar."

"And that's fine with me. It gets me more tail. All gay dudes want to bed
down a straight guy."

"Yeah, I know. That's kind of my thing. I saw your wedding ring."

"See. It works."

"Ok. Here's my number." I wrote it down on hotel stationary.

"Do not call me, ever. Do not text me unless I text you first," he
commanded.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. Can't let the wife or whomever know you like
to fuck dudes."

"I'm not a fag," he sneered.

"Didn't say you were. Chill."

"As long we are got that clear. Don't fucking fall in love with me or some
gay shit like that. It happens all the fucking time and then I have to kick
the guy to the curb."

"Oh, that's a shame, what with your winning personality?" I quipped
sarcastically.

"Fuck you. Play by my rules and no one gets hurt," he warns as he wags his
finger at me.

"Ok, ok. Geez," I rolled my eyes. "But tell me one thing. You really have a
buddy who might want to meet me?"

He smiled and then chuckled. "Yeah, I do. Be a good boy and I'll invite
him."

"Another marine?"

"What do you think?"

"Married?"

"What do you think?"

"Nice," I said elated.

"Damn, you are a whore for married dudes, aren't you?"

"I can be a whore for different kinds of guys but married guys are the
best."

His cell phone beeped. He picked it up and read the text and then he
laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"Speak of the devil. It's my buddy we just talked about."

"So?"

"He says your fucking hot."

"What? How does he know who I am?"

"Probably from the video I sent him of me fucking you."

"What? You recorded us?"

"Damn straight I did.  He needs to see the goods before he comes all the
way here.

"Delete it!" I said as I went for his phone.

He pulled it away. "Whoa! Never grab another man's phone. I'm not deleting
it."

"Come on, dude. Delete it! I don't need that thing on the net."

"Fuck! I'm not putting this on the net, fuckhead. Then people would see me
too."

"Oh, yeah," I said timidly.

"But I will give you a taste of what could happen if I bring a friend," he
teased as he pulled up the text from his buddy. He tapped on a video that
was texted to him. It was a video of a ridiculously hot marine slam-fucking
the hell out of another hot guy. The poor guy was screaming as Marine's
buddy hammered away. The cocky marine flashed a hang-10 sign at the camera
and sneered.

"Is that?"

"Yep, that's him. Doing some muscled up frat boy the same time I was
fucking you."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, he's a hot fucker." He turned to me and held my chin while he pulled
me in for a kiss. "It's going to be so hot to watch him fuck you," he
whispered.

"Fuck, yeah," I whispered back.

"Alright, stud. Hit the road. I have to get up to catch a flight."

"Wow, aren't you the charmer."

"You ain't my wife. Get out," he said as he slapped my ass. "I'll see you
next month," he smiled.

"Looking forward to it," I said sarcastically, and I gathered my clothes
and left.



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