Selfish Pig Pounds My Hole

Now, the love of my life, the object of all my desire, the man I had been chasing since we spend a lustful weekend in bed three years ago, was hovering above me, his breath smelling of alcohol and weed and his finger inside of me. I was in heaven.

*****

“Sssh, he doesn’t mind,” Lincoln said as he presses his spitted slick finger into my anus.

I let out a soundless moan as I gasped for air, feeling my ring give in to his firm finger. He bends it and pulls, stretching my asshole as he liked to do. It hurt, of course, but the move got me wetter than autumn. It’s like a dream come true. Nobody can make me surrender as quick as he.

All the power in my body evaporates as I relax on the soft sheets of my bed as Lincoln mounts me with his huge hairy body.

“We have to be quiet,” he whispers seductively in my ear.

I was too afraid his younger brother Miles may hear in my living room, though he’d likely was smoking it up and drinking it down into oblivion, with his awful grunt hip hop bumping from the speakers loud enough to wake the neighbors.

The two brothers had only texted me an hour ago saying they were coming to get wasted and I, just finished working, let it happen.

Now, the love of my life, the object of all my desire, the man I had been chasing since we spend a lustful weekend in bed three years ago, was hovering above me, his breath smelling of alcohol and weed and his finger inside of me. I was in heaven.

With just one hand he pulls down my boxers and jeans exposing my ass to the cool summer night air. I heard him unbuckle and involuntarily started leaking. I had never been so horny in my entire life.

A loud gurgle and a hard spit fills the room and I feel his blistering hot cockhead part my asscheeks.

I had sensed it in the way he texted, already far into his afternoon binge with his brother, that he wasn’t just coming over to party. I had prepared myself just in case, following the butterflies in my stomach. And thankfully so.

My anus parts happily for him and his warm throbbing meat enters me, filling me whole and sinking deeper and deeper inside my rectum.

“Fuck I forgot how tight you were,” he sighs as he lowers himself on my back, nestling his head in my neck and licking the side of my face like a thirsty dog.

I turn my face, knowing I might ruin the moment.

He hadn’t kissed me in three years. After the weekend he said he couldn’t be gay and within the month of me being heartbroken and crying my eyes out in bed he got a new girlfriend. He stayed with her all these years and even married her. They’re expecting their first child soon. But now, for tonight, he’s mine again and I can’t resist to take all of him.

I open my mouth and suck his tongue and thank god he doesn’t pull back. Instead he devours my mouth like a drink of water in the desert and we make out sloppily while he bottoms out into my ass.

I’ve never had a cock slide so perfectly inside me. Never felt so comfortable, so open, so loved. All those men I drowned in to escape the pain he caused me, weren’t for me. My body rejected them and thus it always hurt. But him, I belonged to, my body understood.

His arms slide under me and one hand squeezes my left manboob while the other comes up around my neck from under my chest like a weed devouring a wall.

And he starts pounding.

The bed as if instructed holds his squeaks but his balls made no such agreement. They slap loudly against my fat ass cheeks as his cock rubs inside of me.

We pant and moan and groan and wheeze into each others mouth, lost in a twirl of tongue and saliva. Our grip ever tightening as only men do while fucking.

I reach back around him and pull his head deeper into me while he clamps down on my throat. Our heads pressed together so roughly we might as well be one.

Meanwhile our lower bodies separate further to crash into each other harder. I move my ass up and down a-rhytmically to his pelvis slamming me and his cock plows me open like a battering ram.

This is what sex is supposed to be like.

I don’t even care anymore if his brother hears. I hope he does. I hope he hears his older brother is having gay sex with his best friend. Fucking his cock in a gay boy’s asshole and enjoying it.

We’re so lost in the moment, so deeply captured by the skin of his cock stroking the flesh of my asshole, so overstimulated by every inch of naked skin that is pressed against each other while the bulk of our bodies are still dressed, it doesn’t last long.

He breaks from the kiss to start groaning as his orgasm builds, I gasp for breath as he fucks every last cubical out of me and before we know it he presses into me deeper than ever before and twitches as my cock leaks on my bedspread.

“OOooohhwwww fuckkkkkk” he shouts as softly as he possibly can.

When we both let our bodies relax he doesn’t move an inch, his cock growing soft inside of me, but still caught in between my firm cheeks. We make out sloppily, licking and kissing each other’s faces.

I open my eyes and look into his, twinkling with mischief as he smirks. He gets off of me and zips up as he reaches out his hand. He pulls me up and I make myself presentable and he takes my hand out of the door.

In the living room Miles is indeed in a weed filled stupor, bopping his head on the music. He smiles knowingly, though I’m not sure if he actually does.

“Miles, what would you say if I left Nina?” I hear him say.

My stomach turns as my heart bursts. Did I hear him right?

Lincoln turns to me.

“What would you say if I was bi and I’m in love with Danny?”

I want to cry but I can’t register what I’m hearing. Does he mean it? Am I dreaming?

“Whatever makes you happy,” I hear Miles say, as if his brother didn’t just come out of the closet with a secret he’s been hiding for years if not decades. A secret that drove us apart three years ago.

“Because I do,” Lincoln says, his eyes transfixed on mine. “I love you Danny, more than I ever loved anyone, more than I ever loved her. You are the one for me.”

I can’t even respond before his lips open mine and our tongues swirl around each other again.

I open my eyes to see Miles reaction but he’s just smiling and nodding, averting his eyes out of politeness. I close them again and let myself be swept off my feet. I feel Lincoln hold me in his arms and pull me to the couch.

We fall on it and yet we never stop kissing. I’m so stupid, so hungry, I don’t care what Miles thinks anymore. I wrap my legs around Lincoln’s body and grind him like a slut. I want him now more than ever and everything else I’ve told myself these past few years was an obvious lie. I love him too. I’m in love with him.

His kisses are as they were, as sweet and soft and rough as I remember. Our love soars through them and through our bodies as our crotches touch through our jeans and we hug in tight embrace.

Lincoln looks up and looks at his brother.

“What would you say, huh? Your old bro dating a dude? Fuck I love you,” he says again turning to me, kissing me like a drunk teenager. I giggle. This can’t be true.

And then I realize. This can’t be true.

“You’re married,” I hear myself say.

I want to smack myself, shake me. What the fuck am I saying? Why am I ruining this perfect moment. This moment I’ve been waiting on forever. The moment most people never experience and only happens in movies. When the guy you secretly love admits he secretly loves you too. Why, Daniel you moron, why?!

“I’ll leave her,” he says before he dives into me again, but this time I turn my head. Not that it bothers him, he sucks on my neck, like a vampire getting his fix.

“You can’t bro,” Miles says, for the first time with a slight awareness where and when he is.

“You have a child,” I hear myself say again, impressed that my self-hatred goes so deep in ruining any chance of happiness it comes out as wisdom on the other end.

Lincoln pulls back and lets me go entirely as if hit. He sits up straight and looks to be thinking, awakened from his horny dream.

“I don’t love her. Not the way I love him,” he says seriously to his brother. And my heart flutters all over again.

“I can see,” Miles nods.

What comes next is a daze. Miles and Lincoln start talking about possible exit routes. They contemplate divorce, a soft launch break-up where we date on the side. They even talk of staying together but having me around as an uncle to the baby. They get so lost in their plans I sober up and feel myself jump off the couch.

“You can’t leave her!”

WHAT AM I SAYING??

Lincoln gets up to and pulls me to him with just one hand. I feel his body against me, so hot and strong, so perfect. He kisses me and I don’t feel anything anymore. I know this can’t be.

“I’m gonna call her,” he says before he storms into the bedroom. My stomach is hurting. I both want so desperately for this all to be happening and something is telling me it’s not.

I sit down and look at Miles. He’s prettier than his brother, skinnier too, but just as kind hearted.

“I have nothing against fags,” he says, his eyelids half closed and not making eye-contact. He’s stoned stoned.

“I know,” I say.

“I even go to your kinda clubs sometimes, people always buy stuff off of me there,” he smiles as if he just walked a Pride march. And I guess this is his drug dealing version of it.

Lincoln is gone for what feels like hours but it can’t be more than twenty minutes as Miles and I only down one whiskey each. When Lincoln opens the door his eyes are red-shot and he dares not to look at me.

He marches to the front door and puts on his coat.

“Hey where are you going?” Miles is awake enough to ask.

“You’re staying with her?” I say, my voice shaking, now well aware of every word.

Lincoln looks at me angrily, as if I’m hurting him and not the other way around.

“You have to drop me off at home!” Miles shouts.

“Shut the fuck up Miles!” Lincoln shouts ten times louder than necessary. Miles sits back down like a beaten dog.

“You’re a fucking coward,” I say, tears running down my cheeks.

Lincoln doesn’t respect me enough to look at me and the door closes behind him. I can’t stop the tears and I burst into a full on ugly cry. The kind I swore off two and a half years ago. And now I’m right back there, over him, nonetheless.

“He always does this,” Miles says. And I see him crying too.

“He always leaves me. Blames me. Shouts at me. This is what he does. Ever since we were kids.”

I can’t deal with this right now so I turn to my bedroom and break down in tears there.

I bury my head in the sheets, like I did not a half hour ago only this time I’m in a nightmare. I cry so hard and loud I feel like a toddler, but I can’t stop it. It hurts all over again. Even if I knew it was a dream, to have what I wanted most in this world only for it to be ripped away… I want to die.

I cry for a long time until I have no tears left. I just lay there, shocking and shaking and hating myself for allowing myself to believe this time would be different.

I don’t see Miles coming in but he’s standing next to the bed all of a sudden, looking out the window.

“I’m sorry he did this to you,” he says, his voice also shaking, obviously he’s been crying too.

“This is what he does. I’m happy you finally get to see him,” he says. He turns and he looks so lost. His eyes big and sad like a puppy.

“He doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t care about me. When my dad died he just left on vacation with his wife and made me deal with all of it.”

I didn’t know that.

“And there are no trains or buses going anymore so he left me again. I’m fucking all alone,” Miles says as he sits down and curls up, crying his eyes out. I get up and hug him, despite us not knowing each other that well.

We partied together many times over the years and I know him as a sweet guy in a bad situation, with no parents to look out for him and no money to go by. But not much else.

“He doesn’t deserve us,” I say, glad to find the words when I couldn’t say them to myself. “He doesn’t deserve either of us.”

Miles clamps onto me and starts crying and that makes me start crying too.

I hate Lincoln. I hate him for making me love him and I hate him for abandoning his sweet brother who obviously needs him.

Before I know it I kiss Miles face maternally, just to give him some love which I have so much of. He looks at me surprised. I hope I didn’t cross a boundary.

“I’m not gay,” he whispers.

“I know,” I sigh, softly smiling.

He kisses me on the lips, his wet and larger than his brothers, but kinder too. I open mine and let him in.

In the darkness of my room we crawl on the bed and kiss each others pain away. I take off his shirt and he takes of mine. He takes off his pants and I take of mine. We both take off each others boxers. Naked we wrap ourself around each other, half crying half kissing.

His cock is longer than Lincolns, his body thinner but more defined. He pulls my arms beside my head and takes control, but his kisses remain as soft and healing. I raise my hips and open my legs for him. And he pushes himself inside me.

I’m still open and slightly wet and I take him with ease, even if he’s firmer and much longer than what I had before. Our bodies click and we return to our embrace, kissing each other’s faces as if to say it’s okay to cry. To be hurt. To feel the pain. Our bodies slide against each other as we fuck slowly, softly, loving, until it doesn’t hurt anymore.

He sighes as he opens my mouth and tongues me deep. I moan as I soothe his back. I’ve never needed sex like this. Not out of some lust or horniness, but to connect, to heal, to feel.

With a bite of my lip, his mood changes. The sadness evaporates. He smiles halfheartedly at me and I smile through my pain too. As if we both say enough of the tears, let’s enjoy this.

He thrusts forward and I wince in pain.

“You know I’m better than him in bed,” he says cheekily. His eyes still red from crying, his voice still cracked.

“Show me,” I whisper, the sorrow trembling in the words.

And he does. He starts to fuck me like a drill machine and I start grunting in bliss. I push myself up and start riding him roughly like a cowboy while he holds me. We start to have fun. Enjoy it. We kiss and we fuck in every position imaginable. His hard long cock never leaving my bowels entirely.

We fuck for hours, with rests in between to kiss and hold each other. I deep throat his beautiful cock and kisses my asshole. We fuck because we want to forget. Because we want to be free. And when dawn finally arrives and he’s fucking me missionary again, while he pulls my cock.

We moan in each other’s mouth as we finally cum together. An orgasm so extended it becomes painful and a big hill to climb. I burst on my stomach and he buries his seed deep inside me. And we both scream in relief.

We laugh as we crash on the bed, finally untangled, finally released. And we realize we spend the night doing the one thing that finally liberated us from him. Because if he ever finds out, he will never speak to either of us again.

We fall asleep and awake an hour later spooning, Miles’ arm wrapped around me, holding me safe.

Sobered up we awkwardly grin and kiss before saying goodbye. There’s public transport again so he can go home. And I need to sleep.

While he pulls his pants up, still bare chested, his hair messy, he smiles at me. I, fucked senseless, smile back. He leans over and gives me a sweet kiss on the lips, tasting of tears and whiskey and weed.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind doing this again soon.” He says confidently. Before he turns into the shy guy I know and start to love. “If you want of course,” he adds hastily.

“That’d be okay,” I say smiling too.

He nods and waves awkwardly before he rushes out. And I fall back on the bed and fast into a deep sleep.

Dreaming again.

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