The Stranger Who Fucked Me in the Dark Was a Coworker

Going out partying gets me horny, even though I almost never end up doing anything. It’s the atmosphere: the music blasting, couples finding each other in the half-light, hands slipping under clothes when they think no one’s looking. All of it leaves me so worked up I don’t know what to do with it afterward.

That night I’d gone out with people from work. There were almost fifteen of us, and honestly we had a good time. Lots of beer, lots of laughter, a few confessions too many thanks to the alcohol. But nothing to get out of it on the other front: pure office camaraderie. Since the place was only two streets from my apartment, I pulled my usual smoke bomb and left without saying goodbye to anyone.

I got home with that restlessness that never goes away on its own. The apartment was silent, still with the sticky heat of the summer night slipping in through the window. I flopped onto the sofa and opened the app, more out of habit than hope. At that hour there’s almost never anything interesting left: the same old profiles, the same recycled photos. I was about to give up and crawl into bed when I got a message.

The profile photo was just a pair of pecs. He wasn’t huge, but you could tell his body was worked out, solid. The age said thirty-nine. And the description left no room for doubt: “Horny straight guy. I come to your place, fuck you, and bye.”

I laughed to myself. It was exactly what I needed that night, no conversation, no names, no promises. We talked for a bit, just enough, and I confessed I was dead tired. He promised it would be quick. Then I came up with a game.

—I’ll leave the door unlocked —I wrote—. You get here, we don’t turn on any lights, and you stick it in me in the dark. Without seeing each other’s faces.

I don’t know why the idea of not knowing who he was excited me so much.

—I’m in —he answered right away—. Get that ass ready, because my dick’s already hard.

I turned off every light, left the latch undone, and waited on the bed in my boxer briefs, my heart pounding in my chest. The bulge was already showing through the fabric, I was practically drooling at the thought of a stranger walking in blind to fuck me. A few minutes later I heard the door, then his footsteps feeling their way toward the bedroom in the dark. He didn’t say a word. He reached me by using his hands, grabbed the back of my neck, and kissed me with a brutality that left me breathless, shoving his tongue down my throat, biting my lower lip until I moaned.

He smelled like expensive cologne and sweat, a mix that stayed burned into my memory. He stripped me by yanking at my clothes in a hurry, as if he’d been holding back for hours. He ripped my boxer briefs off in one pull and brought them to his face, sniffing them before throwing them to the floor.

—Fuck, you smell so good, horny little fag —he growled, and shoved the back of my neck until my mouth slammed against his zipper.

I fumbled his pants down and pulled out his cock. It was rock hard, thick, heavy in my hand, the tip already wet with pre-cum. I took it into my mouth without seeing it, guessing its girth with my tongue, and he grabbed my hair with both hands and started fucking my throat to his own rhythm. I tried to breathe through my nose while he shoved it deep down my throat, feeling his balls slap against my chin. Tears sprang to my eyes, I started choking, and he pulled it out for a second so I could catch my breath.

—That’s it, swallow it whole, you bastard. Suck my balls too.

I obeyed. I licked his balls one by one, took them into my mouth, worked my way up the shaft with my tongue to the tip, and swallowed his cock back down to the base. I stayed like that for a good while, sucking him like my life depended on it, while he called me whore, fag, cocksucker, all whispered in that rough voice that clouded my head.

He shoved me over and buried his mouth between my legs, opening me up slowly, with no hurry this time. He spread my cheeks with his hands and drove his tongue into my ass, dragging it over my hole again and again, soaking it, pushing it inside. I buried my face in the pillow so I wouldn’t scream. No one had ever eaten my ass like that, with that kind of hunger. He started sucking it while he slid in two spit-wet fingers, twisting them, opening me up thoroughly until I was trembling and completely ready. I clutched the headboard, holding back my gasps, trying not to make a sound in the middle of the night. By then I wasn’t thinking about anything except what came next.

—I’m going to wreck your ass —he whispered in my ear—. And if you clench, even better.

When he came in, he did it all at once. No hesitation, no testing the waters. He drove his cock into me to the balls in a single thrust and I bit the pillow to keep from yelping. He was strong, much more than that blurry photo had suggested, and he had a huge dick, really huge; I felt myself stretching around him, felt the burn give way to brutal pleasure. He started fucking me with a relentless rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and then slamming back in with a hard thrust. Every stroke ripped a moan into the pillow from me, every clash of his hips against my ass echoed through the dark bedroom. I asked him to take me all the way onto the bed and he threw me face down onto the mattress without a second thought.

He climbed on top of me, pinned my wrists to the mattress, and with every hip thrust he drove me deeper into the bed. I clutched at the sheets, bit the fabric, tried to keep up with him and couldn’t. The guy had a stamina that was just not normal. He pushed into me all the way, held it there for a moment making me feel every inch buried inside, and then slammed back in again. He pulled out completely, spat on his cock, and shoved it back into me in one brutal thrust.

—Get on all fours, dirty boy —he ordered.

I raised my ass for him, rested my face on the pillow, and arched my back. He grabbed my hips with both hands, his fingers digging into my flesh, and impaled me again. In that position he went in even deeper, and every thrust shook me to the core. He slapped my ass between thrusts, dry blows that rang out in the silence and left my skin burning.

—Look at you swallowing cock, fag. Look at how it opens your hole.

I couldn’t see anything, it was all dark, but I could feel perfectly well how he was tearing me apart. He reached for my own cock and made me jerk myself off in time with his thrusts. I was so turned on that within minutes I came across the sheets, a long shot that left me empty, while he kept fucking me mercilessly and I felt my ass clenching around his cock.

—That’s it, clench, clench, bastard —he growled—. It gets me hard feeling your ass squeezing me.

He kept working me over for a good while longer, without letting up, breathing right into my ear, whispering filthy things that got me even hotter even though I’d just come. He changed positions again, rolled me onto my back and put my legs over his shoulders. Now I had him right on top of me, I could feel his sweaty chest against my thighs, his breath on my face, and even though I couldn’t see his face I knew he was staring at me fixedly while he drove into me over and over. He grabbed my neck, not squeezing, just holding me, and sped up until the headboard started banging against the wall.

—I’m going to cum —he said at last, his voice breaking—. Fuck, I’m going to cum inside.

—Do it inside —I begged—. Fill my ass up completely, don’t pull out.

And he obeyed. He shoved himself in to the hilt and left it there, trembling, while I felt the lashes of his cock unloading inside me. They were hot spurts, many of them, one after another, and he kept groaning against my neck with each one. When he finally pulled out, a thread of cum dribbled from my ass crack onto the sheets.

He stayed lying on my back, exhausted, with his cock still leaking between my cheeks, for a long while. Then he got up in silence, felt around for his clothes, and dressed. He didn’t say goodbye, or if he did, I was already too sleepy to hear it. I heard the door and fell asleep almost at once, my ass throbbing and his cum still dripping out of me.

***

I woke up a few hours later and went to the bathroom to clean myself up a bit. When I came back to bed, my foot bumped into something on the floor. I bent down to look and found a watch. A big silver one, with a metal band and a solid weight in my hand. Nice. Expensive, probably.

The weird thing is that it sounded familiar. I didn’t know from where, but I had that uneasy feeling of having seen it before. I rushed to message him on the app so he could come back for it, but he’d blocked me. The profile no longer existed for me. “What a shame,” I thought, while I tried the watch on my wrist. It was way too big. I put it in the drawer of the bedside table and forgot about it.

***

Monday I went back to work with my mind elsewhere. During the coffee break, the usual crowd were talking about how well Friday night had gone, that we had to do it again, that next time I couldn’t bail out so early. Everyone was in a good mood. Everyone except Bruno.

Bruno didn’t usually talk much with me. He was the classic attractive, slightly cocky guy, big, the kind who fills a room just by walking in. And he was also my direct supervisor, which meant I always had to keep some distance with him. That morning he seemed off, absent, like he was dragging around a bad mood that didn’t fit with the rest.

Without thinking too much about it, I asked him what was wrong. And that’s when everything came crashing down on me.

—I lost a watch —he said, rubbing his face—. One my girlfriend gave me. I have no idea where, and I’m climbing the walls.

I felt the blood drain from my face. I already knew what watch had been sitting in the drawer of my nightstand. It was his. Bruno was the stranger who’d fucked me in the dark that night. My supervisor. The guy who liked to play at being so straight.

I was stunned, not knowing what to say. Any move felt like a mistake. If I opened my mouth, I’d be outing myself too, and on top of that I’d be exposed in front of my boss. But seeing him like that, gutted over an object I had tucked away, stirred something in me. I turned it over in my head all morning until, after lunch, I decided to write him.

“Bruno, hi. Hey, I need to talk to you about something, but I’d rather do it outside work. Can we meet later at the café in the square?”

“Sure, no problem. Hope everything’s okay,” he replied.

We got there almost at the same time. We sat at a table in the back and I started talking as best I could, weighing every word.

—Look, I know you’re having a rough time, and I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing by telling you this because of everything it implies. But seeing you so fucked up... I have your watch.

—What? —his voice jumped at once—. You have it? Did you steal it from me? How do you have it?

I could tell he was getting pissed off, going on the defensive.

—Bruno, stop. You’re getting mixed up. I have it because you left it at my place.

His face changed completely. He went white, with the cup halfway to his mouth. It took him several seconds to react, and when he did, he lowered his voice until it was barely a whisper.

—Fuck. Fuck, fuck. —He ran a hand through his hair, looking around in case anyone could hear us—. On the one hand I’m relieved, but you can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me.

—I swear I haven’t talked to anyone and I won’t —I said, calm—. I’ll give you the watch back and we’ll act like this never happened. Come to my place if you want and I’ll give it to you right now.

***

We ordered a taxi and he didn’t say a word to me the whole ride. He stared out the window, jaw clenched, as if he were still processing what he’d just found out. We went up to my apartment, I closed the door, and went straight to the bedside table to get the watch. I put it in his hand and, finally, I saw his shoulders loosen a little.

I offered him coffee and he accepted. We sat in the kitchen, the same apartment where everything had happened in the dark a few nights before, and there was something unreal about the whole situation. We chatted for a while about anything and everything: work, the office people, how absurd coincidence was. Little by little the tension faded. I even dared to joke with him a little, and he laughed for the first time all afternoon.

—Hey, sorry about before —he said, looking me in the eyes at last—. I got defensive like an idiot.

—No worries, I get it. I didn’t know how to tell you about the watch either when I realized it was you. You didn’t exactly look like you fucked that brutally —I blurted out, half serious, half joking.

—Yeah. And you didn’t look like you were that submissive —he replied, with a half smile—. With guys I allow myself to be as rough as my girl doesn’t let me be.

—Yeah, I noticed. But no complaints from me.

—None from me either.

Silence fell over the living room. One of those loaded, electric silences where words are unnecessary. I got up to walk him to the door, convinced that was the end of it. But as soon as we were close, he grabbed my arm and slammed me against the wood.

—Well, look —he murmured, his mouth right against mine—, I’m going to thank you the way you deserve.

He shoved his tongue into my mouth before I could answer, crushing me against the door with all his weight. I could feel his cock, hard again, pressing into my hip through his pants. He yanked the zipper down with one hand and pulled out my cock in one motion, gripping it with that big palm he already knew by heart.

—This time I want to see your face while I fuck you —he growled—. I want to see what your face looks like when I stick it in.

He dragged me to the sofa, ripped off my shirt and pants, and stripped down too without ever taking his eyes off me. With the lights on, he was even rougher. The worked body, the broad chest, and that thick cock pointed at me, shining at the tip. He sat down on the sofa and motioned to me.

—Suck it. Now I want you looking at me.

I knelt between his legs and took it into my mouth. I looked him in the eyes while I sucked his cock, while I licked his balls, while he shoved it down my throat with his hand in my hair. He was smiling, with that cocky supervisor’s half grin, enjoying seeing me on my knees.

—Who would’ve thought, huh? The quiet one from the office, swallowing the boss’s dick.

He pulled it out of my mouth, threw me face up on the sofa, and lifted my legs until he rested them on his chest. He spat on his cock, lubed himself up well, and this time slid it into me slowly, staring at me hard to watch my mouth open as he sank in. When he had it all the way inside, he started moving with long, deep thrusts, never taking his eyes off me for a second.

—That’s how I like it, with that little face like you’re enjoying it.

He drove it in to the hilt and held it there, circling his hips to stir me up from the inside. I dug my nails into his arms, moaned without holding back this time because there was no reason to stay quiet anymore. He fucked me with the same brutality as the first night, except now I could see his face: jaw clenched, eyes locked on mine, sweat running down his temples.

He flipped me over, put me on all fours on the sofa, and fucked me from behind again, holding my hair like it was reins. Each thrust made me lurch forward and he pulled me back by my head. He reached around, grabbed my cock, and started jerking me off at the same rhythm he was fucking me with.

—Cum, fag. Cum for your supervisor.

And I came. I came in his hand and over the sofa, shouting this time, and he came inside me seconds later, groaning against the back of my neck, emptying himself into my ass for the second time as if not a single day had passed since the first.

When he pulled out, he collapsed beside me on the sofa, sweaty, smiling. He ran a hand over my back and looked at me.

—The watch has been returned —he said—. But I think I’m going to have to lose a few more things around here.