It’s 9am. My boyfriend leaves for work like always. Normal morning — he’s gone all day. I’m still in bed with my mouth open, legs spread under the covers, waiting to be used.
You know I’m alone.
You’re one of the local lads. Builder. Roofer. Bit of a mouth on you. You’ve seen me around — maybe I’ve caught your eye. Fit, clean, decent-looking guy… and today, I’m all yours.
You walk in without knocking, straight into the bedroom. I pretend to be shocked, but I don’t fight it. Not when you grab my face. Not when you spit in my mouth and call me a useless little bitch. I’m tied up in seconds. Belt round my wrists, gagged with your boxers, eyes wide while you wreck me like you’ve been waiting to.
You tell me I was asking for it — laying there like that. You call your mate, then another. Next thing I know, it’s you and two of your crew, sweaty hi-vis still on, laughing while you spit-roast me and use me like a thing. No questions. Just filth. Proper lads doing what they want with the soft lad next door.
You fuck me raw. You stretch my throat. You hold my head in place while I drool. You call me names I shouldn’t love… and I beg for more, even through the gag.
You try things I’ve never done before — and I take it. Every single bit of it.
By the time you’re done, I’m dripping. Sore. Shaking. Completely ruined. Left face down on the kitchen floor, sweaty, leaking, covered in spit — just in time to clean up before he gets home.
If you’re local, rough, dominant, and love the idea of taking control of a lad who wants to be broken in — drop a message. |
