The room is dark, but not pitch-black.
I can’t see much, but I can hear the high-pitched whining of some bottom getting ploughed nearby. There’s also some music playing, some electronic music with a strong bass beat.
I’m sitting on a thin foam mattress covered in black vinyl, on top of a platform that’s built into the wall. My legs are spread, and my back is leaning against the wall. The guy who’s sucking my cock looks a little younger than me, twenty-five at a guess. I know he’s cute, because I had a good look at him in the corridor outside when he walked past me, and then again when he passed me again, and again before I got tired of his shyness and grabbed his hand and pulled him into the nearest empty room.
All I can see of him now, though, is the top of his head. His mouth is warm, and wet, and he’s concentrating on pleasuring me, moving his head up and down on me. His hands are on my thighs, and they seem quite big. Maybe he’s hung?
I lean forward and gently pull his head away from my crotch. He looks up at me, and I can just make out his eyes. On a whim, I pull him towards me and kiss him. I imagine I could taste myself as our tongues flick against each other, but really all I can taste is his saliva, indistinguishable from my own.
I let him stand up, run my hands across his shoulders. He’s slender. I keep going, feeling his chest. His small pecs are smooth, and firm - I would guess that he exercises regularly. Not at a gym, not enough bulk or definition, but more like a runner. I stop at his nipples, and he gasps softly when I move my thumbs over them.
The background music has changed - and now I can hear a low throaty moaning coming from another direction. Someone else getting it good nearby, I expect.
I explore further down. A flat stomach, not much smaller than his chest, but I can feel his abs. As my hands move down past his navel, I feel something brushing against them. He is hard, and pointing upwards, and as I expected from his hands, he is large. I take him in one hand, and feel up and down his length. Narrow at the base, fat in the middle, and a smaller head. Uncut, too, but because he’s so hard, his foreskin has shortened, leaving the lips exposed. When I run my finger over it, I find that it’s wet.
I take a firm hold, and pull back his foreskin. It slides back, easily, and lodges behind his small head. He gasps again.
The high-pitched bottom has stopped, but so has the music, and I can hear more, softer groaning and moaning, from the rooms around us. I bend over, my legs still spread wide, my hand still wrapped around his dick and put the guy’s cock head in my mouth. I suck on it like a sweet, and I play with his balls (small, pulled up a little) with my other hand.
He leans forward, whispers urgently.
I get off the platform, go to the station by the door with lube in a pump on the wall and condoms in a small basket next to it. I take a condom, rip it open and throw the foil into the wastebasket on the floor. I roll on the rubber, get a couple of pumps of lube into the palm of my hand, and I rub my cock. I am good and hard, pointing up and away from my body.
On a whim, I unclick the catch on the door. It doesn’t open, but anyone who stops to listen will probably discover that it’s unlocked. That gives me a bit of a thrill. I get another pump of lube, and walk back to the guy, who has taken my position on the platform, holding his legs together in the air with his hands on the outside of his legs.
As I feel around with my free hand to find his hole to lube it up, I discover that it’s already slick. He’s probably already been fucked today, which makes his erection all the more impressive. I lube him up anyway, rub my hand against the underside of his thighs, and place my dick against his hole. I lean forward, and push - and go in easily enough, steadily, all the way. It feels good, though, having my cock in this guy.
I put my hands against his legs, and then I fuck him. The music hasn’t come back on, so now everyone around me gets to hear my grunting and his soft moaning join their own sounds. The sound of me slapping against him seems loud, but since I can’t hear anyone else’s, I assume it won’t travel past the walls.
Remembering the open door, I turn my head, but I don’t stop or slow down. This is a good position and I’ve hit a good rhythm, a slow steady pump moving most of me in and out of him. He seems to be enjoying it, judging from the sounds he’s making - and other people are, too, since the door seems to be almost halfway open. I can’t see much, but I think I see a few heads looking in, and maybe I can hear some people jacking off.
I want to finish, and decide I don’t need an audience. I pull out of him (he makes an indignant sound) and I pull him off the platform, my body between him and the open door. I manhandle him, turn him around and bend him over, spreading his legs. I lean over him, and whisper in his ear.
He grunts unhappily, but stays still.
I step away from him towards the door. The people watching quickly vanish - Singaporeans are so shy - and I ease it shut, pump some more lube into my hand, and rub it on my cock. I stop to look back: even in the dark he looks impressive, bent over, his rounded bum waiting for my cock, his legs confirming my suspicion that he runs.
I decide he’s waited enough, and I walk over. I bend my knees, position my cock a little under his hole (or where I think his hole is) and straighten up, pushing myself into him quite hard and roughly. He stifles a yelp, and half-pants, half-moans as I fuck him: about the same pace as before at first, and then I slow down, pulling out steadily almost all the way before thrusting in hard. Both of us grunt loudly every time I push in.
I lean over him, and push myself in as far as I can go. I fuck him that way, moving my hips so that I move a little bit inside him. I reach around to put my hands on his chest. I find his nipples and play with them, gently at first and then rougher, and he actually wiggles under me.
“You ok?” My head is behind his.
“Yes, yes!” He says, urgently.
I take this as a cue that I shouldn’t stop, and I realise that he’s pushing back against me. He must want me further in him, or to move more. I can’t go back to the longer strokes while keeping up the nipple play, though, so I pull out and get him to resume his earlier position in the platform. This time I make him spread his legs apart. He supports himself with his hands. His erection is still full and hard.
I don’t bother lubing up again. I push back in, and get back to work. Medium thrusts, no pause at the beginning or end, just steadily in and out and in again. Because his legs are spread, I have access to his body, and I get back to playing with his nipples. He likes it rough, it seems - as I twist and pinch his tits, he moans more loudly and writhes under me.
I take one hand off his chest, and grab his cock. I’m close to cumming. It would be good if we came together. I jack it (good thing my hand is still a little slick from the load of lube when we changed positions) and he makes different noises, quieter but more husky, grunting. He takes one hand off a leg, and puts it on the nipple that I am not playing with. He’s even more aggressive than I am, pinching and pulling on his nipple, and I mirror his actions as best I can. This turns me on, so I speed up my thrusting and my jerking. I feel a pressure rising in the pit of my stomach and deep in my balls, and I know I’m close. I stop jacking his cock.
His noises become more urgent and he grunts once more and goes quiet, and then I feel his hole tightening and loosening over my rod, his cock pulsing in my hand as spurts of cum shoot out, a huge load. The sight of it triggers something in me, and I cum myself, thrusting in time to each shot, a hard thrust into him each time I squeeze out a spurt.
I resume my stroking of his cock, and milk out the remainder of his cum. He softens in my hand. I lean over, still inside him, and he leans up, and we kiss again.
He says “thank you” out loud, but I’m not done with him.
His eyes widen in surprise, but he makes no move to get up. I straighten up and pull out of him, still hard, the tip of my condom full and drooping. I pull it back into my cock. I can feel my juice on my dickhead.
Feeling a little perverse, I scoop up some of his load with my fingers. There isn’t much of it, since it rubbed on both our bodies when we kissed earlier. I smear what I can get on the top of my dick, scoop some off my lower abs, and smear it on the underside. I can just about see the lube on my condom, foamy white from the churning fuck I gave this guy. I reposition myself and push back in.
The music has started again. But it’s late, and there’s a lot of fucking going on. I can hear it.
The thought of fucking this guy with his own cum is hot. I start fucking him again, nice and slow, and reach up with my cum-slicked fingers to his mouth. He sucks them, and turns me on even more, knowing he’s getting to taste his own fluids from his ass and his cock.
I push in, slow, and lean forward to kiss him to get my own taste. I move my hips, continuing to move inside him as we lock lips. I stand up again, and keep fucking him slow, long strokes, out and all the way in, out and all the way in. I can feel a second tide rising, so I speed up. I am not gentle. My body slams into his, hard and insistent. My cock is, if possible, even harder than before. My balls are pulled up tight.
He doesn’t get hard. But it seems like he’s enjoying it - new sounds, this time, more gasping. He has his head tilted back, his arms spread out. If there were sheets, he’d be gripping them. Still no words. Me neither, I’m just grunting.
The second fuck is rougher than the first. More simple.
I lose myself a little. I move inside him, I feel him wrapped around me, I bend over, grip on to his waist, drive my dick (which feels huge and heavy and strong) into him over and over again. I slow down and stop when I realise he’s saying words.
“Please.” Hoarsely, whispering it over and over again.
I pull out, and that’s when I realise he’s cum again, a thin dribble but still a fairly large amount. I feel myself, and I’m sure that I am bigger, my cockhead more swollen.
He looks up at me and smiles. My concern disappears.
“You haven’t finished yet?” he says.
I shake my head, no. He’s breathing heavily. I realise both of us are covered in perspiration.
“I make tighter,” he says. He turns his legs to one side, pressing them together. He looks up at me as I push back into him - and he is, tighter. I have one hand on his hip, the other one out into the air, as I resume thrusting.
Our noises are quieter this time, me huffing and puffing as I do him, him making a low continuous moaning. We’re barely louder than the people in the other rooms, with the thumpa thumpa of the music over it all.
I go in hard. No time for technique, and I give in to the feelings, and let my body dictate my pace. It isn’t long before I am close, closer, and then over the edge. I don’t even stop when I cum, I don’t even slam out the shots, just continue at the pace I am at and ride the feeling as my juices flow. I pump a second load out of me, and this one feels more intense and massive than the first.
My cock is still swollen and heavy, but going soft when I finally pull out, and it droops a little as I pull off the very full condom and drop it in the waste basket. I turn, and the guy is next to me, wiping the lube off his ass with his towel.
He shoots me a smile, and even though I am still riding the post-fuck high, I smile back.
“Shower?” He wraps himself in his towel, but judging from the bulge, he appears to be getting hard again.
I nod, yes, wrap myself up and follow him out of the room.
