Two Strangers Used Me Among the Olive Trees That Night

Good evening, everyone. What a brutal drop in cold and light, because in September darkness falls on you before you’d like. I say it like that, just as I feel it, because I know you open these texts looking for filth, and I promise you’ll get it. But let me set the scene first.

I’d gone months without setting foot in a cruising area. Personal matters, you know how life is, had kept me away from those places where my lustful mind finds some peace. And here I am again, like someone returning to therapy: to talk it out and bring the revs down, to remember in order to sleep soundly.

Since no man has had me in his hands lately, eager to unload all over me, I’ll have to rely on memory again. I hope the recollection serves you as much as it serves me, and that it relaxes you with a good wank before you turn out the light.

I’m not going to tell you about my latest encounter, because I already recounted that one. This time I want to tell you about one of the last times I slipped away to wander into the early September night, the kind that comes down on you earlier than you’d like.

I’d done my homework. I’d shaved my ass and my pubes, because I like not having a single hair when I’m going to give myself over. I’d cleaned out my rectum patiently so no man would have the slightest complaint about hygiene. I went into the olive grove with one fixed idea: to find someone who would kiss my neck while stroking my bare ass cheeks.

But that afternoon promised nothing. Maybe because of the creeping cold, maybe because of the dusk, the grove was almost empty. Four or five silhouettes lost in a huge expanse, and from what I could tell, we were all looking for the same thing. Every man who came up to talk to me turned out to be, like me, a bottom hunting for a top.

With the same hard-on but less patience, I decided to try my phone. I opened the app and sent out a distress call with a suggestive photo, just enough not to get myself deleted by the admins. A pretty olive tree in the background, a dirt path, and my perky ass peeking out from the shadows, inviting whoever wanted to get their fingers on it.

To make the wait more bearable, I was already completely naked, not a scrap on me, like a little lost lamb in the middle of the field. The cold was mild and my skin was burning with kink. I felt no need to get dressed again; the clothes could stay in the backpack.

The phone vibrated. A young guy, twenty-four, Hispanic, a delivery driver, wrote to say he was nearby. I took another photo and sent it to him, because I wanted him to know what he was going to find: an open, willing ass, ready for him to shove it in as he pleased. The only thing I asked in exchange for a good time was that he bring a condom.

The idea must have turned him on, because he came running. With my directions he found the entrance to the grove and the way to get down the slope between where he’d left his bike and the tree where I was waiting.

His look said it all. A horny bastard striding toward his prey, who was standing there naked in front of a small olive tree. I’d already warned him what was waiting for him, and it was exactly what he wanted. Without preliminaries, we got started. He was nervous, though I couldn’t tell whether it was because he was in the middle of his workday or because he was simply horny. I’d understand later.

I was drooling for him to take his pants off. I didn’t have to wait long. I knelt in front of him, my anus open as I crouched, and a dark cock appeared before my eyes, its foreskin already shining with pre-cum.

This one’s ready to go.

He held my head with one hand while guiding his cock toward my mouth with the other. I took all of it in. It wasn’t very big, but I liked it, and the strong taste made me even hotter. I sucked it fast, because he wouldn’t let me do it slowly either: he went in and out without mercy, over and over, until he had to stop me.

“Stop, I’m about to come,” he said, his voice tight.

I instantly understood that encounter wasn’t going to last long. I figured it was better to make the most of what my king was offering, so I straightened up, turned around, and offered him my ass in the air, wordlessly inviting him: if you’re about to blow, what better place than this one, warm and soft.

Have you ever seen those scenes of a nervous dog searching and fussing around for the way to mount and start thrusting? Well, setting all distances aside, it was something like that. I felt an impatient animal behind me. He shoved the condom on in a hurry and tried desperately to line himself up. He gripped his cock in his hand and searched for my hole, still open from being in a squat.

To help him, I bent lower, my ass arched high. I was taller than him, so it didn’t make it any easier for him to get his hips level with mine. But now he wasn’t getting away from me, and I wasn’t getting away from him. Suddenly he found the mark and rammed it in to the hilt. He was so hard and so eager that he slid right into the deepest corner of my rectum, and I felt the impact of his hips against my ass cheeks. I moaned with pleasure, closed my eyes for a moment, and started touching myself between my legs.

The pounding started at once. My stud unloaded all his energy as if he were competing to smack his balls against me as many times as possible in the shortest time. That drill bit hammered into me without pause, gripping my hips with both hands, on his tiptoes to keep up a rhythm he couldn’t even control himself.

I, naked, let myself go completely. I was flying high, pinned against the tree trunk, my legs spread so wide my waist was almost at his height and let him ram me like a savage. But I’ll cut the bullshit, guys, because he came almost immediately.

Moaning sharply, on tiptoe, he pushed hard against my ass cheeks to spill the last drop. His workday wasn’t over and, honestly, I’d sign up to do the same thing halfway through mine. Maybe that’s why he didn’t linger. He pulled out, took off the condom, and hurried to fasten his jeans. A brief goodbye, and he left on his bike.

I was left half-finished. I hadn’t even come, and although my ass was lubed up and open, the evening wasn’t over yet. I had to do something, I thought, while I cleaned myself with some tissues I always carry with me.

The night had already gone fully dark despite how early it was, but I was still standing firm in my nakedness. My skin was starting to goosebump, though it warmed up quickly with each new rush, so I still had no need for clothes. Alone, beside that olive tree witness to a premature ejaculation, I set out to end the night the way I thought I deserved.

Thanks to the floodlights of a nearby industrial estate, it was easy to walk in the dark. The grove was still deserted. I even made my way to the edge of the industrial estate as naked as the day I was born, perhaps in full view of some worker peering out of a far-off window. I didn’t care. I wanted to check out the parked cars, the ones where some men wait discreetly.

Walking calmly, like a sheep looking for its wolf, I heard a man speaking on the phone in Spanish in the distance. Then a shadow appeared coming the other way: another young guy, around thirty, with bleached-blond hair and a tracksuit. Tall, thin, strolling unhurriedly like me. He changed direction when he saw me, and as we crossed paths we couldn’t take our eyes off each other.

To make my passivity clear, I looked at his package while biting my lower lip. He, surprised, ran his eyes over my naked body. I must have appealed to him, because as soon as we passed each other he joined my aimless route.

I reached the ruins of what had once been a house or a small storage shed. I know that place well, by day and by night. And there, about six meters away, was the man on the phone, sitting on a concrete block with his back to me, absorbed in his conversation. He didn’t react. Maybe he didn’t even see me.

Without time to think about whether that corner was the best place with him so close, the blond had already come into the same room as me. We exchanged the few obligatory lines: I was wandering around looking for something to put in my body, and he was looking for an ass to ease his craving.

He began stroking one of my cheeks while with his other hand he worked my cock, a soft, slow wank. I warned him that maybe it wasn’t the best spot, that the doorway gave a perfect view of the two of us from where the man on the phone was. If he turned around, he’d see everything. My blond didn’t care. I cared even less. It wouldn’t be the first time a voyeur watched me getting impaled.

I turned toward him, giving my back to the door, and went for his package: his cock, twisted inside the tracksuit, was begging to come out. His breathing grew heavy and he pressed against me. Then we acted at the same time. I slipped my hand under his underwear and freed it: it stood rigid between my fingers like a spring, pointing at the sky. His hand left my ass cheek and shoved a finger into my hole. It slid in effortlessly; I’d already been fucked that night and I was ready to be penetrated whenever they wanted.

I felt his breath on my neck. He pulled the finger out and told me to bend down, gripping my head. It was time. I was eager to suck a second cock that night, and so I did. His sharp glans, the same tone as his skin, slipped between my wet lips. Once again in a squat, my open ass faced the man on the phone, who was still minding his own business. Maybe he was watching us; if so, he’d have seen my naked back. I moved my head at a good pace, sliding in and out, giving him a delicious blow job while he watched his cock appear and disappear in my mouth.

Lubricated with saliva, it was rock hard while I stroked his balls. The cum I wanted was in those testicles, so I worked hard to get them to spill it. The blow job was long and delicious. It was me who finally stood up, looked him in the eyes, and slowly turned around to offer him my shaved ass.

“If you want, go for the ass instead of the mouth,” I suggested.

The price was still the condom. He put it on at once and, with a certain violence I understood as dominance, turned me fully against the door frame. God, how hot. What a whore I must have looked to him for him to know that that gesture would turn us both on. Maybe he thought it only turned him on, but I like that too, because it feels like an obligation, something very submissive.

I ended up holding the frame with both arms spread wide, facing the man on the phone, while he forced my legs apart as far as they’d go. I was leaning forward, my cock and balls hanging out over the void. He pressed against me and I felt him aiming the tip at my anus with a skill the first guy hadn’t had. He slipped inside as he squeezed me, driving it in to the hilt.

And just like that, without more, that beast started fucking my ass. My body rocked forward with every thrust and I had to work to hold the position, my arms straining against the frame, my torso an inclined X. His balls slammed against me, fast, relentless. It was impossible for the guy on the phone not to hear us, but he never turned around. He kept talking while I stared at him, being savagely fucked from behind.

He groaned and so did I, though I didn’t have my hands free to wank myself. I would have liked to. My ass cheeks collided again and again with his pelvis. One day I’ve got to take a photo from below, between my legs; those scenes must be pure pornography. I imagine his hard cock sliding between my spread ass cheeks until it slams home, while my balls and my cock swing with every удар.

The climax was approaching, so I asked him whether he wanted to come inside or on my face. He didn’t answer, he just kept fucking me hard. I insisted: on my face, then I’d have one hand free to finish too.

I talked him into it without words. He pulled out and forced me to bend down again. He whipped the condom off in a hurry. I put my left hand on his leg to hold myself up and my right hand on my cock, which I started jerking fast. His cock was once again lubricated in front of my nose, but he made me swallow the balls hanging beneath it. While he was jerking himself off, I licked those testicles with my tongue with difficulty, my mouth full. His wank was intense, demanding the load now. I obeyed and the excitement kept rising.

After a moment, the spasms gave him away. He pulled his balls out of my mouth, aimed at my face, and he had little resistance left. Suddenly, with barely any time to close my eyes, a first jet hit my eyebrows and nose. Several more lashes followed, a semen thinner than thick, four or five hot spurts sliding down toward my neck. I closed my mouth to feel the drops run over my lips. He groaned as he emptied himself, and I, with my eyes shut tight, kept masturbating.

When the cumshot ended he shoved his cock into my mouth. I sucked like the biggest slut, tasting his semen on my tongue, now more slowly, squeezing out every last note. Then my orgasm came, more abundant than his, and I soaked the floor with thicker semen. I did it while licking a fat, taut cockhead between my teeth, still giving off the last drops, sucking like someone savoring a candy to the very end.

The blow job gradually came to a stop until a limp cock slipped from between my lips. We stood up and, while we cleaned ourselves in silence, the guy on the phone kept talking. Incredible.

Without a word, the blond tossed the condom away and left almost contemptuously. He’d already used me, he had what he wanted, and I stayed there dressing slowly. I was satisfied too. I didn’t want any more sex that day.

So I finished getting dressed, gathered my things, and, passing once more in front of the man on the phone, disappeared among the trees on my way home, to take a good hot shower. This time with water, not semen. That semen that still smelled on my face, that semen I could still taste in my mouth.