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“Happy now?” he smirked playfully upon lifting his shirt after I begged to get a glimpse of his muscular pecs. He was the fifth guy I had lured into the last stall of the cruisy men’s room at the big-box hardware store that day—and the hottest by far.
“Jesus, you’re hairy,” I gasped, my hands exploring his thick pelt. “I fucking love all that man fur.”
“I wish my wife liked it,” he laughed. “She’s always wanting me to shave it off.”
“That’s a shame,” I replied, dropping to my knees and ravenously undoing his camo pants, his hard eight-incher smacking me in the face. “I bet I like a lot of things that your wife doesn’t.”
“Fuuuck,” he exhaled, his head rolling back as I took his cock down my throat, his hairy balls mashed against my chin. “She sure doesn’t like to deep throat me like that.”
Grabbing the back of my head, he began to face fuck me like his cock hadn’t seen a warm hole in months. He was owning my submissive throat, abusing it. And I was willing and eager to surrender to his violent assault. Tears began to stream down my face as he thrusted past my tonsils over and over again, never pausing to allow me to catch my breath. I was gagging on his big cock, retching on it, trying to suppress the bile rising from my stomach.
“Yeah, choke on this big dick,” he laughed sadistically. “You’re about to taste my cum.”
He wasn’t kidding. Instantly, his cock began to throb down my throat, releasing his warm seed. Like a wild boar, he grunted rhythmically as each spurt of his creamy load went flying down my throat. Instinctively, my hands grasped his muscular ass while his balls emptied into my greedy belly.
“Fuck, I needed that,” he exhaled, extracting his cock from my wrecked esophagus as quickly as he had entered it, my chin dripping with saliva. “My wife never eats my cum like that.”
He was still rock hard, a drop of his pearly cum dangling from the tip of his purplish, spent cock. Never satisfied, I had to have more.
“I bet your wife doesn’t let you cum up her ass,” I taunted, dropping the back of my shorts as I turned and braced myself against the tiled bathroom wall, offering up my eager hole to him.
“We gotta make this fast,” he ordered, his meaty hands grabbing my hips as he pushed into my warm depths with a savage thrust. “I don’t want my wife to get suspicious. She’s out there looking at paint chips. Told her I was just gonna take a quick piss.”
Five minutes later, with his warm load up my ass, I exited the men’s room. I passed him and his wife in the paint section. She was holding up a stock card of light pink paint, cooing over how nice it would look in the baby’s nursery.
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