He drops his pest sprayer by the kitchen door and walks in limping, undoing his canvas belt. His black cock falls out, chubby as him, almost fully erect. Holding my arm he pushes me to the sink, bends me over, and grabs the liquid dish soap on the windowsill. I wiggle off my shorts, panting, hungry.

His big hands slick with soap, he shoves a thumb in my rosebud, positioning me. With the other hand he guides his meat, pushing his weight into me unceremoniously, "Open wide, bitch boy, slut!"

The pain clears my head: I'm loving it. So much.