I could feel the chain link fence pressing against my grasping fingers as the man behind me pushed his pleasure weapon deep into my tender crevice.
"Bandit my boy-hole!" I whimpered in pleasure as he thrust his monster cock in and out of my ass. He had wanted me bare, no condom to interrupt the pleasure, and I eagerly spread for him, ready to take him bareback. The dirty alley was unlit, but outside on the street, harsh flickering lights from street lamps cast light across our alleyway, and any of the many revelers passing by could see us. The thought of being exposed as a little fuckslut to everyone made my ass clench in ecstasy as the rough biker grabbed my shoulders and rode me even harder. I didn't even know his name, all I knew was that when he walked in, wearing tough leathers, that I needed to have him filling my ass. Or at least my mouth. I had swung my hips at him, showing my tight muscular ass under my cut-off shorts, and with a wink and a nod, we both knew what we wanted.
That was really only five minutes ago. And here I was, being taken fully. I had even offered him my mouth, thinking how it would feel to have his rough fingers grabbing my hair while his manhood punished my slutty little mouth. But we were both too desperate, and so we went straight to the fucking. His teeth bit my neck, his voice a deep growl of need in my ears as he called me filthy names, told me how a sexy little man like me needed to be punished for being such a tease.
With a sudden deep thrust that made my ass feel split apart, he started spilling his seed deep into me, his rough voice turning into a momentary whimper as he lost all control. I knew that people outside were probably staring at us. We were spent with desire and fell down to the rough concrete floor of the alley, but I noticed that he was still in me, and had barely softened. In fact, his massive cock was already getting harder, and I could feel the rhythm of desire starting again. His rough hands and hairy arms pushed my own forearms into the ground as he started another round of hard punishing sex---that would drive me even further into euphoria, knowing that such a masculine man had chosen me to be his toy.
Besides, that isn't how it happened at all. Would I ever really say "Bandit my boy-hole"? What does that even mean? But most importantly, in this day and age, I was not going to have unprotected sex with a stranger. The first thing I mentioned when we got alone was that we needed to roll on some protection. And of course, my partner respectfully agreed. And we didn't do it in an alleyway either, with strangers looking on. It would be quite embarrassing to explain to my friends and colleagues that I was arrested for indecent exposure. It was outside though—a nice secluded spot on a lookout point over the beach, where Addison took me on his Vespa.
Did I say I didn't know his name? Well, not a total lie, I knew it was one of those Addison or Madison names, but I was a bit unclear on the exact spelling and pronunciation. The bar was crowded. And when I said he was a tough biker, I meant he showed up to the bar on a Vespa. Very hip.
Also, it wasn't a very tough bar, except on trivia nights. And it took more than a nod and a wink before we had decided on this---mostly, I think we impressed each other during the elimination rounds. Some craft cherry ciders seemed to have loosened our tongues as well. Tongues that were soon interlaced in a surprise kiss when our favorite song---and we shared the same favorite song! came on the bar's playlist. I am glad that my gaydar hadn't given me a false warning. Then, in a secluded booth at the back of the bar, we sat down close and talked about our favorite music. I kept on drinking craft beer and ciders, but he switched to Sprite. He said he had to be okay to drive---and asked me if I wanted to ride away with him. The strong hand massaging up my thigh made me say yes and when he grazed it across the front of my shorts, I said yes again.
He teased me a bit further, drinking Sprites while I got even more tipsy, and before I knew it, we were heading out the door. He was a bit larger than me, and in my imagination the sculpted arms became rock solid with muscle, but they were really the arms of a graphic designer who liked to rock climb on weekends. I did feel giddy when we climbed on the Vespa and drove off, and by the time we got to the beach, with the balmy wind blowing through his hair, and some kisses and sweet nothing, I was ready to be fucked. I got on the ground and waited eagerly for him to get the condom on and to enter me. At that point, we had been teasing each other for a while and it didn't take him long to come in me---but I didn't mind, I knew there would be more.
So, in my imagination, maybe I changed a few details---but doesn't everyone do that?
