Locked Up for Three Hours, and His Brother Almost Caught Us

It had been almost a year since I’d last slept with a man when I decided to post that ad. I’d had a few encounters in the past, nothing serious, but the weariness of routine and a certain social laziness had eventually left me isolated. One Tuesday night, with my phone screen as the only light in the room, I wrote four lines on a dating website and hit send before fear made me delete everything.

The replies came the next day. Most were one-line messages, dick pics without context, men who wanted to meet that very afternoon without having exchanged more than three words. I rejected them one by one until Marcos appeared.

Marcos wrote complete sentences. He asked questions before asking for anything. He didn’t push. We exchanged messages for almost two weeks—long for that kind of platform—and when he asked for my phone number, I gave it to him without thinking too much. With our numbers, the conversations grew longer and more concrete, until one Thursday he asked if I wanted to come by his apartment on Saturday afternoon.

I said yes.

***

The apartment was in a residential area of Zapopan, near a shopping center on Avenida Patria. I climbed three flights of stairs because the elevator was being serviced. Marcos opened the door before I knocked, as if he’d been waiting on the other side.

He looked more or less like his pictures: medium build, a little over five foot seven, with short, dark hair. He was about twenty-nine, maybe a little younger. He invited me in and offered me some water. He shared the apartment with his brother and their father, but assured me they would be out that afternoon. I looked around the living room, not really knowing what to do with my hands.

We sat and talked for a while. Long enough for the nervousness to settle. Then he looked at me in a way that needed no interpretation, and we got up together and headed for the bedroom.

***

We started slowly. I kissed him while taking off his T-shirt, and he did the same with mine. His torso was smooth and hairless, warm to the touch. He wrapped his arms around my back, and we fell onto the bed together.

I yanked down his pants, then his boxers, and his cock sprang free, half-hard, already thick even at rest. I grabbed it and began stroking it slowly, feeling it grow firmer with every pass. He did the same with my pants, pulled out my dick, and worked it with his fist while we kissed with our tongues. I pushed his head down and put it in his mouth. He sucked me all the way, deep down, with a skill I hadn’t expected. I grabbed his head and began fucking his mouth with short thrusts, watching saliva run from the corner of his lips. Then it was my turn: I moved down his chest, bit one of his nipples, kept licking until I reached his groin, and swallowed his cock in a single motion. I sucked him for a long while, squeezing with my lips and playing with my tongue beneath the glans, while I fondled his balls with my free hand.

We stayed like that for a while, sucking and touching each other, getting used to one another, when I heard someone knocking on the apartment door.

Marcos froze with my cock still in his mouth.

“It’s my brother,” he said quietly, carefully taking me out. “He forgot something.”

He stood up, hurriedly pulled his pants over his stiff dick, which barely fit inside the fabric, and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. I stayed on the bed, listening to footsteps in the hallway, a voice in the distance, the sound of drawers opening and closing in some room. At one point the voices came closer, and my heart lurched. Then they moved away, the front door sounded, and the apartment fell silent again.

Marcos came into the bedroom with an apologetic look and an erection showing once more beneath his pants.

“He’s gone. He climbed out through a bathroom window because the main lock was bolted, and I didn’t want to open the door from here.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. The interruption had broken the mood, and we both knew it. I put my T-shirt back on.

“If you want, we can leave it for another day,” I said.

“No.” He sat beside me and put his hand over the bulge. “Stay.”

He said it without pressure. Just as a request. I stayed.

***

Ten minutes passed without anyone knocking again. Ten minutes during which we gradually moved closer once more, without rushing, until the mood restored itself. When I clearly felt the desire returning, I turned him facedown on the bed.

I started from behind: I gave his buttocks a couple of hard slaps, and he responded by propping himself on his elbows and arching his back, offering me his ass. He has a very fine body back there. Firm, well-shaped cheeks that I took my time working over. I spread them with both hands and gazed at his pink asshole, tight and throbbing with anticipation. I lowered my face and licked it. I ran my whole tongue up and down, worked it over with saliva, and pushed my tongue inside as far as I could. He let out a long moan and pushed his ass against my mouth. I worked his hole with my tongue for a good while until I had it wet and soft, then slipped in a finger. It went in without resistance. I put in another. I moved them inside him, searching for the spot, while he grunted into the pillow and moved his hips.

“Put it in already,” he said hoarsely. “Fuck me.”

I put on a condom and took out the lube. I poured a generous stream over his hole and spread it with my glans, rubbing the tip against the opening without going in yet. He pushed backward, trying to impale himself. I held his hip with one hand to keep him still and guided my cock with the other.

I entered slowly. He tensed his back at first and drew a deep breath, but he didn’t ask me to stop. I advanced inch by inch, feeling his ass open around my dick, gripping me hotly, until I felt him relax completely. I pressed my chest against his back, bit the nape of his neck, and drove in the rest of the way in one thrust. He let out a gasp. Then I began to move.

At first slowly, gauging his reaction with every thrust, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in until my balls met him. He began to moan softly and move backward with every push, seeking more. I picked up the pace. My balls slapped against his, his buttocks bounced against my hips, and he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the sounds. I gave him a few sharp slaps on the ass, and he responded by arching even farther, squeezing my cock inside him. I grabbed his hair, pulled his head back, and fucked him hard, eagerly pounding his ass while whispering everything I was doing to him in his ear.

“You take it so well,” I told him. “What a tight ass you have, slut.”

“More,” he answered. “Give it to me harder.”

When he tired of that position, I turned him over. He ended up on his back with his legs extended, and I slipped a hand beneath his thighs to lift them onto my shoulders. Lying there, spread wide, his ass in the air, I drove back into him in a single thrust. His hard cock bounced against his stomach with every stroke, and I grabbed it and began stroking it in time with my fucking. I watched his face as I did it: his eyes were half-closed and his mouth hung open, his breathing short and rhythmic, his cheeks red. I spat into his mouth, and he swallowed the saliva without breaking eye contact.

I fucked him like that for a long while, until I felt the tingling rise from my balls. Before reaching the end, I turned him facedown again, grabbed his hips, and gave him the last quick, deep thrusts until I came inside the condom with my cock buried all the way in. I stayed inside without moving until the final spasm, feeling his ass contract around my dick with every pulse of my cum. Then I carefully pulled out, removed the condom full of semen, tied it off, and tossed it in the wastebasket.

***

We lay there in silence for a moment. Then it was my turn.

Marcos already had his cock hard again, pointing at the ceiling, the glans glistening with precum. He showed it to me up close before putting on the condom: seven inches of thick, hard dick, veins standing out all along the shaft. It made my mouth water. I put it in my mouth for a moment, sucked it properly, coating it with saliva from top to bottom while he stroked my hair. Then he covered my ass with lube, slipped two fingers inside me to open me up, and positioned me on my side in a spooning position, with one arm beneath my head. He lifted my upper leg, and that was how he entered me. The position makes it easier to take: less of an angle, more control, more time to adjust. Even so, the first few seconds weren’t easy. His dick was thick, and my asshole burned as it gave way. No matter how much lube you use, the body always needs a moment.

“Relax,” he said in my ear. “Breathe. Let me in.”

I tried. I loosened my sphincter, breathed deeply, and felt his cock advance inside me inch by inch until I felt his balls resting against my ass. And it worked.

The pain subsided until it became something completely different: a feeling of fullness that’s uncomfortable at first and then something you don’t want to stop. Marcos moved slowly and patiently, sliding his dick in and out of me with long thrusts, and when he heard my breathing change and me begin to moan, he gradually increased the intensity. He bit my shoulder, groped my chest, and squeezed my nipples between his fingers while he fucked me from behind.

He got me onto my knees. His hands were on my hips, setting the rhythm. His hips struck mine hard, his balls hitting my perineum. He bent me forward until my hands touched the mattress, and fucked me that way for a long while, changing the angle every so often, sometimes harder, sometimes very slowly. Each variation came without warning, which made it even better. Sometimes he thrust upward and rubbed directly against my prostate, making me see stars; sometimes to the side, and every direction felt different. My cock was hard and dripping against the sheets, and I grabbed it to jerk off in time with his thrusts.

“Don’t come yet,” he told me, pushing my hand away. “Hold on.”

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me backward until I was on my knees against his chest, impaled on his cock all the way to the hilt. In that position he embraced me from behind, put one hand in my mouth for me to suck, and began moving me himself, raising and lowering me on his dick as if I weighed half as much. I felt his whole body tense behind me.

He came inside me. I felt it clearly: the pressure, the spasms, the gasps he let out as he squeezed my hips with his fingers, his cock swelling even more inside me with every jet. He remained still for a moment, his dick buried to the balls, breathing against my neck. Then he slowly pulled out and dropped onto his back beside me, his condom full.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. And it was true.

***

I thought we were finished. I was wrong.

A few minutes later, Marcos already wanted another round. I looked at him, and sure enough, he was ready again: his cock erect once more, hard as if he hadn’t just come. He was at that age when the body doesn’t need much time to recover. I was a little envious, I won’t lie. My ass was still open and throbbing, full of lube, with the previous load leaking over the edge.

This time he put me on the edge of the bed. He stood while I rested my legs on his shoulders, my ass hanging off the mattress. He put on another condom, lubricated it well, and drove it into me again in a single thrust all the way to the bottom. I screamed. From that position he had complete control over the angle and depth, and he used it well: long, brutal thrusts, putting his whole hips behind them, hammering my ass at a steady rhythm that made his balls slap against mine. He watched me as he did it, jaw clenched. I met his gaze without looking away, my cock standing hard as I grabbed and jerked it in time with his strokes.

Then he climbed onto the bed and knelt with his back straight, his stiff cock pointing at the ceiling. With a gesture, he told me to get on top. I straddled him, grabbed his cock, positioned it against my hole, and lowered myself slowly, letting it enter under my own weight. I took the time I needed until I felt his balls against my ass. Once I was settled, I began moving myself, setting my own rhythm, riding him with my hands braced on his chest, and we stayed that way for a long while: sometimes I controlled the pace, rising and lowering myself slowly to savor every inch; sometimes he thrust upward, gripping my waist, and made me lose my balance in the best possible way. He leaned over to suck one of my nipples without stopping his thrusts.

We tried several more positions. Me on top facing him, looking into each other’s eyes, then with my back to him so he could watch his cock slide in and out of my open ass. On my knees again, briefly, because I was beginning to tire and my legs were shaking. I asked him to put me on my side with my legs half-bent, the most comfortable position for finishing, and that was how the session ended. I jerked off while he gave me his final thrusts, and I came onto the sheets in long spurts, squeezing my ass around his dick with every spasm. That brought him to the edge. He came inside me for the second time, clinging to my hips and growling against the nape of my neck, and I felt that double effect I still can’t quite describe: the physical pleasure of his cock spasming inside me, and something more internal, deeper, spreading in waves and lasting longer than the orgasm itself.

***

By the time we finished, it was night. More than three hours had passed since I arrived. I showered, got dressed, and we kissed at the door before I went down the stairs.

“Come over whenever you want,” he said.

I went back several times. We always started the same way: I fucked him first, sucked him off, and fucked his ass until I left it full of cum in the condom, then he gave me his two or three turns. Over time, I grew to enjoy being penetrated more and more. What at first was something I endured because I was horny gradually became what I looked forward to most on every visit.

Marcos has a cock about seven inches long, thick, veined, and very hard. He was about twenty-nine then, and I was around forty-seven. More or less the same height, with similar builds. We always used condoms and cleaned up properly.

The last few times we saw each other, we hardly took turns anymore. I went straight over so he could fuck me. I’d pull down my pants as soon as I walked in, get on all fours on his bed, and he’d put his cock in me without further preliminaries. It was what I wanted. His dick had become a specific need, not an abstract one, and I knew it from the moment I left home for his apartment with my ass already prepared.

Later I found out that his girlfriend was pregnant. They moved in together, and I lost touch with him. I don’t know whether he thinks about those Saturday afternoons. I do, from time to time.