TRUE STORY - Fucking the UFC Fighter

[ThroatCummer]

I'm kind of new here to these forums and find they're amazing. I also noticed this section where you can post stories, and I have one to share that I haven't been able to really tell anyone -- and genuinely have an audience that will listen. This story is 100% true. I'm re-typing it from memory over a few weeks, almost a decade later. That means I may have gotten a few minor details wrong, but the overall story is 95% solid. I'm also not a fiction or erotica writer or storyteller, so my apologies if it doesn't flow like many of the other posts here. The names and other identifying stuff have been changed obviously.

Finally, there is an actual point to writing this story. It's to challenge your assumptions about everything in life constantly. People aren't always what they seem, and opposites can attract. Fate is also a factor in everything. That said, this should be about ten parts or so, but maybe fewer. I don't know it really depends on how much I get in the mood to write over the next couple of weeks.

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Part 1: Sidewalk Meeting

Back in 2011, I was walking down the street with a friend in New York City in Chelsea, right near Gym Bar on 8th and 18th. On a typical mid-summer Friday or Saturday night (can't remember). The plan was to meet up with a few friends, but as I crossed the street, I saw this random unknown dude [Mark] walking with an old friend of mine [Sean] from our old football days.

As I approached them both, I couldn't help but notice Mark. Mark was rough-looking. He was handsome as hell but also had this presence like someone you don't fuck with. He was wearing gym shorts and had on a perfectly white sleeveless tank and dark skin. Puerto Rican was my assumption, or maybe hardcore Italian with some Latin mixed in somewhere. Perfect fade haircut. Very defensive demeanor and posture. Sleeve tattoos on one of his arms with biceps and shoulders like boulders without an ounce of fat. He stood about 5'9" and was built like a brick shithouse. I had him pegged for about 25-27 years old.

I hadn't seen Sean in a while. Like years. So it was a shock to see him walking down the street. Sean is gay, but he was with Mark, so I gave him a bro hug instead of the typical gay greeting, right? I didn't want to get my ass beat by this random unknown dude who looked like he could fuck everyone's shit up in a second. So the first question was to Sean, the typical "So good to see you man. What are you doing tonight?" That was quickly followed by -- and I don't know where I got the courage to ask -- a very forward "Who's your friend??"

Mark stepped forward, put out his hand, and barked at me in the absolute hottest, thickest Brooklyn/Staten Island accent you've ever heard: "I'm Mark," followed by that straight dude quarter head nod upwards in acknowledgment he just spoke to you. You know it if you've seen it.

I shook his hand, and he gripped my hand so hard I thought he had broken something. Looking back at the moment now, it was a little painful. That grip was incredible.

Two things are running through my head: First, this is one of the hottest guys I have ever seen in my life. Second, he's straight, so that sucks. The really hot ones are always fucking straight. Ugh.

I turn back to Sean and ask again what he's doing tonight? "We're running up the block to grab some food," followed by me saying, "Cool, I'm heading into Gym Bar to meet a few friends and get drunk, so come by after if you aren't doing anything."

Without missing a beat, Mark looks at Sean and says, "What's Gym Bar?"

(If you don't know Gym Bar, just Google 'gym bar nyc' it is basically a gay sports bar that's pretty cool in the heart of Manhattan)

All I could think is you poor hot dumb straight guy. Go home and bang your girlfriend, who in my mind is legit smoking hot because there's no way a dude like Mark doesn't bang some chick like that every night.

We part ways. Sean and Mark walk south, and my friend and I head into Gym Bar and meet our friends.

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Up Next: Part 2 - Mark Stalks Me

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 2 - Mark Stalks Me

Quick Background:

I'm a pretty average dude. Back at the time of this story, in 2011, I had just turned 36 years old, about 6 feet tall, and about 260-265 pounds. By all definitions, I am a bear and reasonably chunky. 8 out of 10 gay guys would call me fat or gross. Whatever. Average looking for sure, and some say a bit handsome based on textbook looks. I'm comfortable in my own skin that's all that matters. My hair was going a little grey, and the whole daddy look that people like these days was starting to come out. I'm naturally masculine, which is just a product of how I was raised. On a scale of 1 to 10, I would place myself at a solid 7. I know my place in life in the looks category, and I am reasonably comfortable with that and generally play within my league and my station in life.

Back to the story:

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If you know anything about Gym Bar, there is a front patio wide open to the street with an extensive view of 8th Ave. It gets crowded.

About three hours had passed since I saw Sean and Mark on the sidewalk before we parted ways. So my friends and I were in the bar, and I decided to walk out on the patio to get some fresh air since the bar was packed and way too sweaty/hot.

I take three steps out on the patio and look out onto 8th Ave and there's Mark. He is just standing there on the corner of the street. By himself. In that perfectly white sleeveless tank with that ripped muscle body of his just like on display. He's standing there on his phone. I couldn't help but stare at him and wonder what he was doing. Why is he here three hours later? Does he even know where he is? Where did Sean go? What? This is a weird coincidence he's just standing outside Gym Bar. WTF is going on here?

He looks up from his phone, directly onto the patio where I am standing and locks eyes with me. That moment, in my head, thinking back a decade later, seemed like it lasted for hours. But it was probably only like five seconds. He didn't smile. He didn't nod. He just stared at me. It was almost a little creepy. Remember this is a rough-looking guy who's totally straight, right? There was even a brief moment where I thought I might get kidnapped after I left the bar and driven to some landfill in New Jersey. No joke. As hot as Mark was, it was also a little creepy.

The absolute furthest thing in my head was that he was there for me. He's straight. Even if he is remotely gay, I am a chunky 36-year-old, and there is no world where I am even close to his type.

He looks away for a moment and then looks back at me and locks in a stare again. What the hell is going on here? I remember thinking he was so incredibly hot that something must be wrong. I just wanted to walk back inside. So I walked off the patio and went back to my friends and spent the next few hours getting shitfaced or whatever, then we all grabbed pizza at like 3 AM, and went home.

Mark was nowhere to be found.

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Up Next: Part 3 - Sean Texts Me About Mark

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 3 - Sean Texts Me About Mark

I wake up the next morning at my buddy's house in Jersey City, and grab my phone. Three or four standard text messages like we all get. One of them is from Sean:

Sean: You get home okay?
Me: Yea. We were out 'till 3. Fun time but my head hurts.
Sean: My friend Mark asked about you when we were eating.
Me: You mean the blockhead? [That's what I called him because he was hot and straight and didn't talk much]
Sean: Yea. He wanted to know where you were from, what you were doing here in the city? Like how I knew you?
Me: Why?
Sean: I don't know.
Me: There's no way he's gay right?
Sean: He never said anything to me. We know each other from a function at the firehouse he was at last week. I just met the guy too. I don't really know him.
Me: So why the fuck is he asking about me then?
Sean: I don't know. He just had a lot of questions about you.
Me: What did you do after you guys finished dinner last night?
Sean: I went home. He said he was going home and walked up the block to grab a cab.
Me: Um. He didn't go right home. He showed up outside Gym Bar. I saw him on the sidewalk.
Sean: You sure it was him?
Me: You do not fucking forget a guy like that. It was definitely him.
Sean: I can give you his phone number if you want. Good luck with that.
Me: What am I going to do with that? "Hi I'm Dave [that's me in this story] the dude you met the other night. Wanna fuck?" and what get my ass beat? No thanks."
Sean: You want it or not?
Me: Yes.

Sean gives me his phone number. It starts with 718, sure enough, Brooklyn, Queens, or Staten Island. I knew it. I put it in my phone under "Mark Tough Guy" and then proceeded to get out of bed, shower, and go about my day.

About six hours later, I get a text message from none other than Mark Tough Guy. Now I hadn't texted him yet and probably wasn't going to at all. But there was the notification staring at me on my phone screen. Remember this was 2011, so it was what the iPhone 3G at this point? LOL. "1 new message," then a second, "2 new messages".

My heart was racing. I stared at my phone for a solid minute and tapped the notification.

Mark: "Hey, bro. We met yesterday for a sec. Hope you don't mind, but I asked Sean for your number.
Mark: "What's up? You remember me?"
Me: "I always remember a nice handshake, you almost crushed my hand. Not much. Stayed out too late and drank a little too much. Just recovering slowly today."
Mark: "Sorry about that. Hope it doesn't hurt this morning. Listen bro so I'm always direct. Can I ask you a personal question?"
Me: "Uh, sure."
Mark: "Sean says you're gay. You didn't seem gay. Are you?"

[Now, hold the fuck up here. Let's step back and think of the two dozen paths this conversation could go down. I was speechless and had no idea what to say. My heart was racing like 120 bpm, my hands were shaking, and I took forever to muster the courage to respond]

Me: "Sean should mind his own business, LOL. But yea, I am. Why do you ask?"
Mark: "Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. That's totally cool. I don't know many gay guys and you seem kind of cool. Can we meet up and have a few beers and maybe talk?"

[Again, part of me is thinking I am getting into some serious trouble here. There is something about him that's just a little off. I'm usually an excellent read on people, and I couldn't put my finger on it. Sure, I have met a lot of very masculine gay guys in my life from all walks of life too, so I more than anyone know never to judge immediately. But in my head there is no planet on which this guy is gay. It's just not possible.]

Me: "Ummmm, yea, ok. We could do that. You're not going to stuff me in a truck or anything, right? LOL HAHAHAHA *emoji* *emoji*."
Mark: "Nah, bro. You're safe with me. I just want to hang out."
Me: "Sure. I don't live in New York though. I'm from DC, so just up here until tomorrow. You thinking tonight or another time?"
Mark: "I can't do tonight, I have an event to go to. But how about this, want to meet in Philly next weekend?"
Me: "For the day?"
Mark: "Well, we could get a hotel and make it a weekend if you can do that. I kind of don't want to hang out in NYC, I know too many people and like to keep a low profile."
Me: "Yea, I can do that. I got to be honest with you, I don't usually get approached this forward and when it does happen, it's usually not from a guy like you."
Mark: "What do you mean a guy like me?"
Me: "Scratch that. I don't know what I meant. Sorry."
Mark: I'm cool. I promise. Let's just hang out and grab a bunch of drinks, dinner, and talk."
Me: "Alright man. Next weekend it is. Can I get your last name for my contact list?"
[I also wanted to try to look him up on Facebook]
Mark: "Mind if I pass on that one? I'm not hiding from you but I kind of need to tell you in person. It's more of a story there, hope you don't mind. I promise I'm not a nutjob."
Me: "Okay, that's fair. At least send me a cool pic of you for my contact list."
Mark: "Ok. Here. Talk later bro. Nice to meet ya."
Mark: "Oh yea, I'll book the hotel. There's a certain gym I want to be near that's convenient for me, so I'll take care of all that. You just bring you.,"
Me: "Alright fine you can be the top. LOL *emoji*"
Mark: "Oh, I'm definitely not a top."
Me: "So uh you know all about that?"
Mark: "Let's just say I have done my homework. Talk later bro. Nice to meet you Dave."

I would like nothing more than to post that picture he sent me. It's a picture that still makes my heart race almost 11 years later. But he and I are still friends, and we have a level of respect between us that is unbreakable, and I simply can't share. Sorry guys. I may be able to go through and find a headless one at some point and blur out some tattoos. I'll try to do that in the next few posts.

Up Next: Part 4 - Philadelphia With Mark

 

[KYLPlover]

Great story. Really looking forward to the next part. Could you describe the photo he sent for your contacts?

 

[ThroatCummer]

Great story. Really looking forward to the next part. Could you describe the photo he sent for your contacts?

It was him in the waiting room of an office somewhere sitting down but leaning against a wall. He had on a really tight black Under Armour t-shirt that wrapped around every ripple in his body. His hands were crossed in front of him making his arms look huge. You can see the tattoo on one of his arms peaking out from the sleeves, He had a serious look while staring at the phone, with a perfect symmetrical face, and the the squarest jaw you've ever seen, and a little smirk on his face like he knows he's hot. I've jacked off to this picture at least two dozen times over the past decade.

More in a bit.

 

[ThroatCummer]

[All place names changed of course]

Part 4 - Philadelphia With Mark

Fast forward one week. I hadn't texted Mark, and he hadn't texted me until Friday morning. He asked me if I was still coming to meet up, and I said, yea, I am about ready to leave. He said he would be in town around 1 pm but would meet me at the hotel at 5 pm. He gave me the address and said he put my name on the room, so just go check-in and he would meet me there. It was on the west side of Center City in Rittenhouse Square. I'd soon learn the hotel was a block away from the best MMA gym in the entire state.

I jumped in my car and took the drive up from DC to Philly to the hotel. I checked in around 4 pm and got to the room, and he wasn't there yet. So I put my stuff down in the room, and my heart was still racing. I can't believe I am here in Philly in a hotel room to meet a guy who I have zero idea what he wants from me -- and let's be honest -- intimidates the fuck out of me. This is one of the most significant risks I have ever taken.

He texts me and says he's done and will be there in 20 minutes.

I lay down on the bed, flick on the TV, and try to calm down.

Exactly 20 minutes later, I hear a key card open the room door, and in walks Mark. I jump up in the bed and take one look at him. He's in another one of the same perfect white tank tops and black gym shorts. Except this time, he's glistening with sweat and looks exhausted. He's sweated through half of his tank. He has a duffel bag in his hand and throws it on the floor, and walks right over to me. "Dave, awesome to see you again man. You made it!" and he proceeds to give me a bro hug with a double pat on my back.

That hug fucking made me melt. Just feeling how soaking wet he was with sweat and how calm and comfortable he was, there aren't any words to describe what I was feeling.

Mark: "I'm a mess. Mind if I take a quick shower?"

Have you ever seen Top Gun when Maverick gets to Kelly McGillis's place, jumps off his bike, and wants to shower first? That's the scene.

Me: "Yea, the bathroom is over there," as I point to the hotel room corner.

Mark: "Sorry, dude, I just went to train for a few hours and need to clean up before talking. I'll be right out."

Me: "You say sorry too much." [in an attempt to flirt]

Mark: "Really? I just try to make others feel comfortable and my Mom taught me to respect everyone. Hold that thought."

He walks into the bathroom and closes the door tight behind him, so I can't see or hear anything.

Up Next - Part 5: Mark levels with me and shows all his cards.

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 5: Mark levels with me and shows all his cards.

I heard him in the bathroom for like twenty minutes. It seemed like forever. I laid back on the bed and watched TV, trying to figure out what we were doing next.

Finally, the door opens, and Mark walks out with just a towel around his waist. It was the first time I had seen him shirtless. I want to say I can tell you what happened in the next few minutes, but I pretty much blacked out and can't remember.

I remember seeing a concrete block of a man standing there, smiling at me. He didn't have a six-pack but didn't have a belly. He was just the most solid man I had ever seen before. He walked over to the side of the bed, sat down, and looked at me. He put his right hand on my belly and said, "What are you thinking?"

This most intimidating hot guy I have ever seen also has a calm, relaxed, and comfortable presence. The thought that I was going to get stuffed in a trunk or get my ass kicked was long gone, and he made me feel so much at ease at this moment.

"So? What are you thinking?" He asked again since I hadn't answered. Having been left speechless by this first question.

At this point, I wasn't even looking at his face. Instead, I looked down at his hand on my belly, his tattooed arm, and his overall build. I had never been in the presence of someone so hot as this in my life.

I reached up and put my right hand on his chest and -- until this day have no idea how or why I was so direct -- and said: "You're the hottest man I have ever seen."

He pulled his hand off my belly and was a little taken aback. "Nah, bro, I'm just me and nothing special." and proceeded to stand up and put on some underwear and a t-shirt.

Me: "Hey, I didn't mean to be too forward man. That was just the first thing off the top of my head. Sorry if I...."

He interrupted me. "Nah. It's just nobody has ever said that to me before. So it feels a little weird. Not even because you're a dude so don't think that, but because nobody ever gave me a compliment like that in my life."

[This is where the story gets completely unbelievable, like totally off the rails, but it's 100% true, believe it or not]

Before I could respond Mark says: "I want you to take that bear cock of yours and fuck me. No lube. Just get up, throw me down on the bed, and cum inside me. Don't go slow or be gentle. Just use my ass to get off."

I replied, "Um. I'm not sure you know how this works. Have you been fucked before? I can't just throw it in with no lube, and you have never done it before. It'll hurt a lot."

Mark: "That's the point bro. I get off on the pain. Fucking rape me. Don't be a pussy. Do it."

Me: Reaching for an excuse to delay or distract him, I utter: "I need a condom at least."

At this point I am laying on my back on the bed and he's still sitting on the side of the bed in a towel.

He gets up, drops the towel, and takes off my shorts. He jumps on top of me and extends both his arms to grab the headboard, and starts bouncing up and down on my rock-hard dick, which isn't inside him, he's just rubbing his ass against me grinding.

I look up at him, a concrete cinderblock of a man moving up and down on my dick, and reach up and put both my hands on each side of him, grabbing his lats.

20 seconds pass. Maybe 30, but probably less. "Dude, I'm going to fucking blow." and proceed to shoot the hardest load I have ever shot in my life. I wasn't even inside his ass. He was rubbing and grinding against my cock. This guy made me blow my load just by doing that. First time ever that happened,

As soon as I come down from my shot, I'm like "Woah, sorry man. That was way too hot, and holding onto you felt so good."

He rolls off to the side of me and puts one of his arms around me. "That was totally hot bro. Next time I am getting you inside me. We aren't done."

Then the hotel fire alarm goes off. If "Mark" ever sees this story on here, even with all the names and cities replaced, this will be where he knows it's him he's reading about.

Yep. Entire hotel fire alarm goes off. We're on the 17th floor and have to walk down to the street. We both get dressed and don't say a word about what just happened.

Up Next: Part 6 - Fire Alarm & Dinner

 

[JWP65]

Great story man, really fucking hot. Would like to see some pics of yourself, sound like you've got a great body

 

[ThroatCummer]

Great story man, really fucking hot. Would like to see some pics of yourself, sound like you've got a great body

I just added about 25 pictures of myself to a media album in my profile.

https://www.lpsg.com/gallery/albums/sportbud77-self-pictures-2015-2022.1039281/

 

[JWP65]

I just added about 25 pictures of myself to a media album in my profile.

https://www.lpsg.com/gallery/albums/sportbud77-self-pictures-2015-2022.1039281/

Makes the story even better being able to picture you

 

[Adamwwonttel]

Still waiting for part 6

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 6 - Fire Alarm & Dinner

It was the first time I had to evacuate a hotel in my life. Mark and I quickly threw on a t-shirt and shorts and walked down 17 flights with everyone else. We were standing on the sidewalk, and fire truck after fire truck kept arriving. You could see some semblance of smoke or something coming from a floor about ten floors above where we were staying.

We took one look at each other and said simultaneously: "This is going to be a while." so he suggested we go get some food or drinks or something, and we started walking down the block ending up at some Irish Pub that was cool and quiet.

We sit down, and I order a beer, and he gets a Makers on the rocks.

Me: "That was weird huh?"
Mark: "You mean the fire alarm?"
Me: "Yea that too."
Mark: "What that I made you blow your load so fast?"
Me: "Yea that too."
Mark: "So, what's your story man?"
Me: "You know I need to ask you the same fucking thing. I bet your story is way more interesting than mine, so you first."
Mark: "I asked you first."
Me: "Really, we're going to play this game?"
Mark: "Okay, fine. But I'm going to need a half dozen more of these," he said, pointing to the Makers in front of him with a smirk on his face.

[I'm going to take out some of the more boring things like details of his parents and other things not relevant to the story]

He proceeded to tell me that he wasn't gay. [We'll get back to this later obviously!] He had no problem with that, but he never thought of himself that way. He had lived a very straight life in a tough neighborhood in Staten Island, and it was a rough childhood, so he learned to fight early in life. He said he is surprised he's not in jail because many of his friends are because they were punks. He's 27 now but never really had any soft skills in education or typical white-collar jobs, so he worked many construction and labor jobs. Then when he was about 19 years old, he met a guy at a gym on Staten Island who got him into MMA.

Mark: "I'm a pretty good fighter."
Me: "Like, what do you mean in the gym?"
Mark: "Well, I train about six to seven days a week. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Kickboxing, Muay Tai, Taekwondo, Judo, pretty much everything."
Me: "No shit, man. Wow, you really can kick my ass if you want. Shit."
Mark: "Nah. You're nice, and I like you." he said with a smirk.
Me: "So, what do you do for work when you're not in the gym training?"
Mark: "That's what I do. They pay me for it."
Me: "Wait, you're not talking about stuff like the UFC?"
Mark doesn't say a word and looks at me and smiles and nods his head up and down. "Uh-huh."
Me: "Bullshit. I've heard some stories that are out there in my life before. That I don't believe."
Mark: "Give me your phone."
Me: "Why"
Mark: "Give me your phone."

I hand over my phone, and he starts typing. As he was typing, he said, " Remember when I didn't want to give you my last name?" He pulls up a picture of him and his biography and his win/loss record on the actual UFC.com site and hands me back my phone.

Me: "Holy shit, that's you."
Mark: "Yea, the picture sucks, But uh, you okay with all this?"
Me: "All this? Okay, with all what?"
Mark: "I don't know. One or two guys I have tried to hook up with in the past got a little scared away, or they get a little crazy, and it just gets difficult, so I back away and don't ever pursue anything."
Me: "Why are you telling me this all now? We just met."
Mark: "You're just comfortable with me. You seem like a solid dude, and you're the first dude I got a hotel room with ever, so something is right."
Me: "Alright. You're right, and I am pretty solid and can keep a secret. So I get the needing privacy stuff and laying low."

"Thanks, bro. That means a lot to me." as Mark takes a sip of his third Makers -- apparently he was nervous as fuck this entire time. I'd learn later it's almost like a "coming out" thing for him. But I had one last question I had to know:

Me: "The other day, when we talked about coming down here and grabbing a room, you said you're all bottom and don't top. Then back in the room, you said you got off on the pain and just wanted to be raped. I'm having a hard time putting all this together in my head. To be totally honest with you, this is a total mindfuck for me, Mark."

Mark takes another sip from his drink and looks at me with that fucking face that just won't quit, the perfectly square jaw, and that deep masculine Staten Island thick accent, and goes, "I can't explain it. I have this non-stop thing in my head where I want to get abused repeatedly. I want to be someone's hole they just use to get off in. I dunno bro, I just need it. and more and more that's all I can think about."

I look at him and smile. Here's the hottest -- and for all intents -- and toughest man I have ever met in my life wanting to just get railed constantly.

Me: "Wow. Ok. You wanna grab some food? or go back and see if the hotel is back to normal?"
Mark: "No food. You're going to fuck me a couple times before we eat. Let's get out of here."

Up Next: Part 7 - 24 hours in the hotel room.

 

[JWP65]

Loving the build up man

 

[ThroatCummer]

Loving the build up man

I know it's hard to convince total strangers on the internet, but it really is all true. This wasn't an app hookup where we just went to fuck right away. It was a long and drawn out thing because come to find out we were both a bit nervous, and he was new at this, and he was intimidating as hell so I had to get over that. But the good stuff is coming like where we fuck so hard we rip the headboard out of the wall in another hotel, or where he basically demands for me to fuck him again (after like the 8th time) but we had done it so many times, my dick was raw, and hurt, and I thought it was going to all off and just couldn't actually do it. lol. I'll tell you one thing, those guys have fucking stamina like nobody's business. More soon.

 

[ThroatCummer]

I'm sorry this story is dragging out longer than I expected. Like I said before, I am re-writing this all from memory from a decade ago and as I started writing, I am recalling a bunch of small details that are worth including, at least for me. Writing this is just as much for my own therapeutic means than it is for everyone else to read. Once done, I'll have a written record of everything I can save and go back and read when I am like 85 years old and have Alzheimer's. It's genuine fun to relive a time I haven't truly remembered in so much detail since it happened.

On that note, if anyone has questions, please feel free to post.

Part 7 - Back to the hotel room

We walk back three blocks to the hotel, and the last fire engines are leaving. They had just given the all-clear to go back to the hotel. A few hundred people are waiting for the five elevators in the lobby that is still spilling outside.

Mark looks at me without a second thought and says, "C'mon, bro, let's take the stairs. It'll be faster."

HOLD THE FUCK UP. FASTER FOR WHO??? He's a well-oiled athletic machine, and here I am, ten years older, 60# lbs heavier than him, and yea, no. Four stories? Okay. Six stories? Maybe. Ten stories, I am going to have to think about it. But 17 stories? You're fucking crazy.

Me: "Mark, I don't think I can do 17 flights up. The elevators will only take a few more minutes."
Mark: "C'mon, bro. Yea you can. Let's go." He started walking to the staircase doors and didn't look back. I followed like a little puppy.

Looking back a decade, there is so much clarity at this moment. I said sure, let's go, because I wanted to impress him. But the truth is that this was the first time we were together, that I realized he would devote a lot of his time to making me a better person over the coming years.

We started climbing. After hitting the 5th or 6th floor, I had to stop and catch my breath. This dude barely broke a sweat. Finally, he turned around and said, "you okay?" and walked back down a few stairs to put his arm around me.

Mark: "You got this, bro. Catch your breath, and we'll do another five, and we can stop again, okay? How about this? You go in front of me, and I'll be right behind you."

I start walking up more. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. As we cross each story, I get slower, clearly out of breath again. Mark sees this, jumps up a couple of stairs in front of me, turns around, and puts his thick arm around my neck in a semi-head headlock.

"You better be able to still fuck me when we get back to the room. I didn't drive down to Philly for nothing. So don't disappoint me bro."

That was all the motivation I needed in the world. I pushed him off me and hiked up the next six flights with ease. We got back to the room, and I crashed on the bed. I was wiped out.

He walks over to the bed, lays next to me, and says, "I'm going to turn you into an animal."

Me: "What??"
Mark: "You got it in you. You need someone to kick your ass."
Me: "What does that mean?"
Mark: "You've never had someone in your life to truly challenge you, have you?"

[I think about that statement he said to this day, at least once a day. Because it was entirely accurate.]

Me: "No. I haven't."
Mark: "We're going to change that then."

Mark stands up, strips off his shirt, puts his arms behind his head and tightens up his entire body while looking at me with the biggest grin on his face. He relaxes for a second, and puts one of his hands down the front of his gym shorts and the other one across his chest, and says "You have ten minutes to catch your breath. I told you don't disappoint me bro." and turned around and walked into the bathroom.

Up Next: Part 8 - Lots of sex. Until my cock almost breaks off.

]Next part may not appear for a few days. It's late Sunday and I have a busy day at work the next two days, so might not have time to write more. But soon, promise.]

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 8 - Lots of sex. Until my cock almost breaks off.

I'm lying down on the bed and Mark walks out of the bathroom completely naked. He stands there at the foot of the bed, looking at me. There's an elaborate tiger tattoo on his left pec I can't stop staring at. He's isn't a huge bodybuilder type, but he also doesn't have a single ounce of fat on him, yet he is thick all over.

It's hard to describe because I haven't met a guy with his build before. Most guys who are ripped up and so defined are either the worked-out athletic types you see on a magazine cover, or they're just so insanely jacked like a typical juicehead. He was neither. His dark-skinned body just looked like it was naturally thick and still somehow carved from granite. You could tell he spent type in the gym every day, but not lifting weights all the time if that makes sense. He was just strong and solid.

He crawls up on top of me and slowly licks my neck a few times and whispers in my ear, "Let's do this again. Just don't cum so quick you pussy." This gets me angry. "Fuck you, Mark."

"Yea, fuck me. That's the goal bro."

He pulls down my gym shorts and starts blowing me to get me hard. Not that I wasn't already stiff from just looking at him, but I think he thought he had to do that to play around a bit first.

At this moment, it dawns on me that he isn't a full homosexual, at least not yet. There were lots of teeth, and basically, he had no idea what he was doing. Now, I love a good blowjob. I would take getting sucked off over fucking any day of the week if given a choice. Just look at the media pictures in my profile here. For a brief moment, I thought, "Okay, this will never work. This kid is the most horrible cocksucker ever." which looking back, is hilarious.

I grab the back of his head and pull him up to me and tell him to grab the lube in my bag.

Mark: "I don't wanna use lube. Just put your cock in me."
Me: "I need lube, man. It's not that easy. Relax."
Mark: "Fine. I get that. But no condom though."

[Now, let's set the bar. This is 2011. Long before PrEP was a mainstream thing, and barebacking someone you didn't know was less socially acceptable. For my adult life -- 90's and 00's, you never had anal sex without a condom. That just wasn't a question.]

Me: "Mark, that can be dangerous. We can't do --"
Mark: [Interrupting me] "Bro, this is my fantasy right now. I want your load in me. You're going to be the first guy who's ever cum in me. I need your load in me bro."

[I know I am negative and don't have anal sex all that much. Most of my sex life is blowjobs, which I am fine with. I do the cost/benefit analysis quickly -- and let's be real, he is so fucking hot I really can't argue this one, as sad as that sounds. I'm just glad we all live in 2022 with tools available to us all to allow more and more barebacking, let's leave it at that.]

Me: "Ok." I only said that because him telling me I am going to be the first guy to ever blow a load in this tough guy almost made me shoot my load right there as he said those words. And if you could hear his voice and the way he says "bro" with that accident of his, you would fucking cum in your pants in a second.

He takes some lube, strokes my cock with it to get it nice and ready, then turn and faces me, squats down, and in one single, smooth motion, sits down on my cock until it's entirely inside him and his ass cheeks are pressed against my thighs. No resistance at all, although he's tight as hell.

This was April 2011. I was 36 years and a half years old, and this was the single best feeling I had ever felt in my life. Mark proceeds to grab the headboard with his arms and bounce up and down slowly on me. I reach up and hold his arms that are grabbing the headboard, and even today I can still vividly, with 100% detail, remember exactly how that felt. His arms were like cinder blocks. His whole body was as hard as a concrete block. I reached behind him to grab his back, and he just kept going up and down on me at the most solid rhythmic pace. Not a single missed beat, like a fine swiss watch.

Finally, after two or three minutes of me just grunting and him doing the same, without either of us saying anything just lost in the moment, he looks down at me and says, in that deep masculine voice that just doesn't quit: "How's my ass feel bro?"

The rest is blurry. All I could muster was a "Mark... man" and then let out a huge grunt and said, "I'm gonna come in a sec."

In a move that is something straight out of a porno -- he makes three moves that still make me dizzy even today. Here is this "straight" and very inexperienced guy who really shouldn't know what he is doing, right?

He takes his hands off the headboard, opens his palms, and grabs both sides of my head, palms right over my ears, pressing them against the sides of my head like a vice grip -- and he's fucking strong. He gripped hard. At the same time, he doubled the pace at which he was bouncing up and down on my cock Then, he leaned in and kissed me for the win. This was the first time he had put his lips on mine or kissed me. He stuck his entire tongue down my throat and didn't let up one bit.

As I tried to muffle out the words "I'M COMING!" he kept pressing his hands against my head, kept his mouth locked on my lips and wouldn't let up, and then in such a professional move, tightened up his ass so hard that he milked the load out of me right into his guts. Every pump/shot I made, he timed clenching his ass perfectly. It's like I was fucking a bottom who had done this 500 times before.

To this day, I have never cum that hard before. On a scale of 1 to 10, it was an 18. All of that combined should have killed many people of a heart attack. Once I was mostly done shooting, I pushed him off me trying to grab my breath and get some space because I was legit lightheaded. He let go of me, leaned back, my soft dick still inside him, and *HE* said to *ME*:

Mark: "That was the fucking hottest thing I have ever done."
Me: "YOU'VE EVER DONE???"
Me: "Holy fuck Mark. I can't describe how that felt."
Mark: "Hell yea. Making out with you while feeling you shoot inside me. I came right then."

In all the pleasure he was giving me, I hadn't realized he shot too. I sat up and looked down and realized that when he had complete control of me, he had blown his load all over my belly, and I hadn't even noticed. He came hands free because the entire time his hands were either on the headboard or on the side of my head. He hadn't touched his own cock the entire time.

This would be one of the only times he was a little dominant and took control like that. But, little did I know, he had a whole other side to him we would explore over the rest of the evening and next 36 hours.

He climbs off me, rolls over to my side, reaches for the nightstand, and grabs the TV remote, in like one single motion. I'm lying there trying to decide if I can make it to the bathroom to clean up or not because my entire world was just flipped upside down, and I am still dizzy.

He flicks on the TV.

Me: "What are you doing?"

Mark: "Jets game just started."

At the same time he said that, he reached over with his left hand and slowly started to rub all of his load all over my belly.

I turned a quarter of the way to my left on my side, threw my left hand over his chest, and kissed the side of his neck while he was flicking through the channels trying to find the game.

Up Next: Part 9 - Jets Game & Serious Pillow Talk

 

[Imationessen]

So hot! I'm Looking forward to the rest of these

 

[Ulymon]

this is hot af

 

[ThroatCummer]

Part 9 - Explanation First

Before I continue, just a few things to get off my chest and clarify:

Mark isn't much of a talker. I've used "straight" and "tough" and other words that have all blended in recent years as we continuously evolve as people to better understand human sexuality. We know there are gay people from all walks of life. But the reality is that men like him are few and far between. It's just how the world works. The way he acts, his demeanor, his voice, and even his overuse of the word "bro" (which in this story is not an exaggeration) point to someone who just doesn't fit the mold, even today in 2022.

As I started to write this story, I realized it would be way longer than I had initially expected because it was originally only supposed to be about me fucking him and how hot that was. But the more I write, the more I want to convey how he is as a person and dig into his character a bit more for the benefit of everyone reading this thread. I was never homophobic or closeted, but at the same time, I was never 100% comfortable with being gay for many reasons that have taken years of therapy to understand.

I'm not going to spoil the end, but we don't run off into the sunset and get married or even have a very long-term relationship (although one does develop). But to this day, he is my best friend and the man I trust most in my life. Yet meeting him single-handedly changed how I view my self-worth as a gay man. I was also fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to change his perception as well. Keep reading, and if you have any comments or questions, or it is even getting too long, let me know, please. I value all the feedback, very much so.

------

Part 9 - Jets Game & Shower

I just said this, but Mark isn't much of a talker. He's the type of man who only speaks when there is truly something meaningful to say. He just laid there for a solid 20-30 minutes watching the first half of the Jets game. Occasionally, he would reach his hand over, grab my belly, and ask if I were okay. The fact he did this in such a compassionate way showed me there is a genuine soft guy underneath that hard exterior. I just said yes while still trying to process how the fuck I ended up here after meeting a random guy like him on the sidewalk last week in New York City.

Just before halftime, I broke the silence:

Me: "Hey, can we talk for a sec?"
Mark flips over and looks at me. "Can we take a shower first?"
Me: "Um, okay. You first."
Mark: "Nah, together." as he jumps off the bed,

I'm a bit self-conscious about my body. While I am certainly not "ugly" per se, I still have about 50-60 lbs extra on me and haven't been to the gym in a few years, and the idea of showering with this walking cinder block was hella intimidating.

He sensed my hesitation and, without missing a damned beat:

Mark: "What? You think we won't fit?"
Me: "You just call me fat?"
Mark: "Nah bro. How much do you weigh?"
Me: "I'm certainly not in as good a shape as you."
Mark: "250?"
Me: "Higher."
Mark: "270?"
Me: "Almost 290"
Mark: "Nice."

Mark leans down over the bed, puts both his hands on me, and says, "Don't change a thing. I love your belly and your bear cock." and then grabs my head on one side with one of his hands and slowly rubs the side of his face against my cheek so we can feel each other's one or two-day stubble rub together like sandpaper. Sort of an attempt to let me know he would be there for a while if that makes any sense. Kind of like an animal marking his territory without actually pissing. LOL.

[First, I still haven't even asked him about how he knows about bears, and Second, for the record, his competition division is light heavyweight (aka cruiserweight at about 210-220 lbs]

We jumped in the shower, and it couldn't have been a more bro-ey shower ever. He didn't touch me. I didn't touch him at all much. We just had an average shower -- as normal as you can -- with almost 500 lbs of guys in a fairly standard/small hotel shower. So we jump out, grab towels, dry off, put on shorts, and crash back on the bed.

Me: "Hey, you hungry yet? Let's get some food."

Mark reaches for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, proceeds to put some on his hand, goes down my shorts, and starts to rub some of it on my soft cock, which is quickly growing again.

"This is what's going to happen. I'm buying you dinner after you fuck me again, then we can "talk" about whatever you wanted."

Right now, this is about 30 minutes (max) after I had just cum the hardest in my life. It was legit an exact rinse and repeat from the last time. He straddled me and sat down on my rock-hard dick. I was lying on my back, staring up at this insanely hot tough guy bouncing on my cock. As soon as I mentioned I would cum again, he did the same thing -- grabbed my head on both sides, locked his mouth onto mine and made out with me, and used his ass to get every last drop out of my shaft possible. Like before, he came all over my belly again, without touching himself.

Before I could utter a word, he lifted off me, walked over, grabbed a towel, and cleaned up my cock and all his cum from my belly and chest while I was still lying on the bed.

He pulled out the notepad and pen from the hotel desk drawer and wrote down " 1 1 " then set the pen down and threw the pad at me while I was still lying there.

Me "What's this?"
Mark: "I always keep count, bro. Now get dressed. Let's go eat."

Up Next: Part 10 - Dinner

 

[geniusguy]

Nice one