He has a boyfriend. They've been together for ten years.
But his boyfriend is at home and I'm on my knees in the garage sucking his cock. It's throbbing and hard with a type or urgency I recognize. I can taste it.
He hasn't mentioned that he has a boyfriend.
He doesn't have to.
His boyfriend, Shawn, is also a friend of mine. I don't think Sean has ever considered me a threat cuz most of the people who know me think I'm monogamous. That's the perception.
It's not long before I'm bent over the hood of my car with his bare cock splitting me open.There's no romance. He spits on my crack and increases the pace. He's thrusting with a fierceness and passion that I doubt he matches when fucking his boyfriend. He grunts with teach hrust and rests his hands behind his head while plowing me, claiming ownership.
Why can't people accept the separation of sex and love?
What we're doing has nothing to do with love. It has to do with spice. It has to do with the fact that his body is telling him he needs to breed a different ass. It has to do with my need to get filled by a new cock every once in awhile. It has zero connection to my love life.
This is natural. This is primal.
As I submit to his violent fuck, I think about this cock that shouldn't be in my asshole. It turns me on more and I find myself leaking pre-cum over the hood of my car. I think about the boyfriend, who got called out in the middle of the night for his shift at the hospital. I knew he had no idea or would even suspect that his boyfriend liked to fuck other people. And his boyfriend would never find out. Because a fuck is a fuck so keep your mouth shut. Do it to keep sane and avoid hating your boyfriend for sexual frustation as the relationship ages.
I lose track of my thoughts when he starts cumming, which triggers my own orgasm.
Then I hear the sound of him dressing and he's out the door.
I feel his cum leaking out of my hole and run down my leg, sticky and warm.
My night sleep is sound.