Date: Tue, 14 Jun 2016 01:30:49 +0000
From: tom davis <underarmour001@hotmail.com>
Subject: Little Top, Big Bottom Chapter 19

Little Top, Big Bottom

Chapter 19

Derek lay on his back, his favorite position, flat on his back, legs
up. The strong hands of his fucker laced together behind his neck, pulling
up on the back of his head forcing his chin to his chest.  The veins in his
dominant top's biceps popping out and sweat dripping down his forearms.

Derek's teeth were clenched, his eyes watering, his face flushed bright red
and the veins in his forehead were visible through his skin. His upturned
ass being pile-driven, loud slapping sounds from a set of sex-pack abs
bouncing off his smooth glutes.

He was being fucked so hard, Derek was having trouble breathing at
times. The guy pulling his head up off the bed along with his legs already
in the air made him contort into a continuous isometric contraction of his
abs while blocking off his air passage. Every time he was released even a
tiny bit he would take a deep breath to replenish his oxygen supply and got
ready for another tight squeeze and another onslaught of punishing ass
fucking.

These were the fucks he liked best. The kind that were hard, rough, long
durations. The kind where the dude was so excited to bone a dude that he
fucked like it's his last chance to ever do so again. End of the world,
apocalyptic fucks is what I call them. The best type of dude for
apocalyptic fucks were the closeted ones who had to sneak around. When they
finally found a willing target and a convenient block of time, they fucked
hard to get it out of their systems for a while until they had an open
window to bone another dude.  If they were lucky they found a regular
fuckbuddy that was convenient, usually had a place to fuck and easy to
communicate with, texts in the middle of the day or late nights were very
common. Derek jumped at the chance to be some hot dude's sexual
release. The ultimate in servitude to men who needed his body and his
submissiveness to bring themselves pleasure and sexual satisfaction.

He looked up at the guy who was relentlessly pounding his muscular bubble
ass. Definitely one of those apocalyptic type dudes. He needed a release
and Derek was his choice of ass to use. He was boyishly handsome. He was
only thirty years old but easily looked twenty. His body was small, only
about 5'7, maybe 160 pounds at the most and tight as fuck, smooth, ripped
and vascular.  His waist couldn't have been more than 29 inches. His
blondish-brown hair sweaty and dripping with sweat. His green eyes were
presently closed, his mouth open and grunting sounds and very quiet
whispers of "yeah" or "fuck yeah" emanating from his throat. When he wasn't
pulling up on Derek's neck, he was upright on his knees, holding Derek's
legs by the ankles, running his hands up and down Derek's baby smooth,
muscular legs.

This one wasn't really into kissing. I think that was a line he was afraid
to cross. Once it was crossed than the dude knew there was no turning
back. Scared of even thinking himself as gay. No kissing, no homo.

He wasn't one for talking either. He was quiet, brooding, eyes down,
sometimes wearing a ball cap with the bill pulled down low. He was there
for one thing and one thing only, to fuck ass. When they hooked up for sex
Derek never heard more from the man than a few deep whispered phrases of,
"Sup?" when he arrived followed by "Let's fuck" or Derek's favorite,
"Cummin in your ass, bro." right before he pulled out, dressed and walked
out the door with only a "I'll text you." It was always very quiet, throaty
and masculine.

He was a repeat hookup. Derek was on his "speed-dial" for sure. They had
hooked up so much over the last couple of months that it was obvious he
preferred Derek over anyone else. But who could blame the guy, Derek looked
like a god, handsome, so tall, lean, perfect specimen and masculine, Derek
was a closet-cases wet dream come true. Derek would get a text from him,
stop whatever he was doing, speed off to meet him and spend the next couple
of hours with cock in his ass and his gut filled with cum. The texts came
at random times, random days, sometimes a couple times a week, one weekend
it was two days in a row. It just depended on when this little stud could
get away from his wife and kid. From the way this dude railed him, it was
easy to tell he was unhappy in his marriage. It meant he really needed a
hot ass to get him though the day to day frustration of only getting to
fuck pussy.

Derek felt his knees now being pushed down to his shoulders. The cock in
his ass doubled its pace and with a hard, short jolt, felt his butt being
filled with sticky, hot cum. The dude's body tightened up, all his muscles
flexed and his mouth opened again with a low grunt and a long sigh.  His
body shook and quivered as he pumped load after load into that sweet, sweet
ass.

Derek's legs were lowered down onto the mattress as he felt the thick cock
leave his hole. He watched the man between his legs, resting on his knees
and sitting back on his heels. He was breathing hard, trying to catch his
breath while wiping away sweat from his forehead with the back of his
hand. He placed his hands on his hips, took a deep breath and just stared
down at Derek, a serious, stare that burned holes into Derek's eyes. What
did he want? He usually just a pump and dump then out the door.

Derek continued to lock eyes with the hot sexy top and stroked his
erection. He put one arm behind his head and rested it on his forearm. The
other hand continued to stroke his throbbing cock. They stared into each
other's eyes. Derek stroked harder and harder. The other man ran his hands
all over his own sweaty body, squeezing his hard muscles, tweaking his
nipple, passing over his defined abs. The look on his face was cocky, he
sneered as if to say, "fuck yeah, get off on my body. Faggot."

The more Derek looked at him, the constant stare, the sheen of shiny sweat
on the muscular body in front of him, the more he started to breath harder,
his pulse beating faster, remembering his legs had been up in the air,
flexed just a minute ago. With a loud, teeth clenching scream, shot a huge
volley of cum all over his own face and the sheets, pillow and headboard
behind him.

Derek wiped the cum off his face and stuck out his tongue and licked it off
his hand.

"Fucking gross, dude." The guy said as he scooted to the edge of the bed.

"What? It's MY cum." Derek said back, nonchalantly.

"It's gay." The guy said under his breath.

Derek sat up onto his elbows. "Yeah, it is. Maybe because I AM gay."

"God. Fucking fags." He said under his breath again as he stood up and went
searching for his underwear.

Derek rolled his eyes and laughed to himself. Ok, well at least he's
actually speaking for once even if he is homophobic but still likes to fuck
guys.  Dude was a walking contradiction.

"Where you going?"

The short muscle-man-boy found his tight UA boxerbriefs and pulled him up
over his muscular thighs and tucked his cock into the front, snapping the
waistband into place. He then bent over and picked up his crisp white dress
shirt and light blue tie.

"Gotta get back to work." He said pulling on his shirt and buttoning the
buttons without looking at Derek.

"Dude, come on, man. It's only been like 30 minutes and you only shot me
one load. I know you've got more in you."

"No, I don't. Gotta pick up my kid." He said as he slid on his black fitted
dress pants. They were tailored and were snug against his perky muscular
ass.

"Paul. Dude. Just one more?" Derek begged while pulling himself into a
sitting position.

"Dude. I said no. Stop being a little bitch." Paul said as he buckled his
belt and stepped into his black slip-ons.

"I'm not being a little bitch. I canceled two clients when I got your
texts. If I had known that you were going to bust out early I would have
only canceled one."

Paul worked on buttoning each cuff as he tried his hardest not to look
Derek's direction. Derek could see the shame in his posture. "Not my
problem."

"Paul. I just missed out on two clients to meet you. That's alot of fucking
money!"

"No, you missed out on two clients to get fucked." Paul wrapped his tie
around his neck and adjusted the knot as he tied it. "You're the one who
ran when I called to get his faggot ass pumped full of jizz."

"Dude. Not cool." Derek said as he stood up and towered over Paul.

"I don't fucking care." Paul replied as he leaned his head back and looked
up at the taller man before him.

Derek just stood and stared him down.

Paul stared back up at him. "Don't give me that tough guy shit." He took a
step closer, right up to Derek's chest. Derek dwarfed him but Paul didn't
stand down. "You may be two feet taller and a hundred pounds heavier but
you're still just a pussy. You know the fucking drill.  I text, you get
fucked. It's not that difficult or are you as dumb as you are pretty?"

Derek stepped back. He sat down on the bed and rested his elbows on his
knees and looked down at the floor. "Fine."

Paul turned to the mirror, ran his fingers through his thick hair, styling
it back to look neat and trim. Paul watched Derek through the mirror.  He
sneered again, "Fine." He said mockingly. "You know, for such a big dude,
you can be really fucking bitchy sometimes. I never would have guessed when
I met you that you'd be this much of a pussy. Even with how much cock you
take it's still hard to believe sometimes that you're a big fag. But
lately, the more cock I put in your ass the more you become worse than a
fucking woman. I don't need this shit. If I wanted that I would go fuck my
wife."

Derek sat quiet. He still hung his head, staring down at the
floor. "Please." He whispered.

"What?" Paul asked as he started to leave.

Once again Derek whispered a little bit louder. "Please."

Paul looked around confused then looked back down at the hunk of muscle
sulking on the edge of the bed. "Please? Please, what?"

Derek slowly raised his eyes up to see Paul. "Don't go."

"Don't go?" Paul looked down at him like he couldn't believe what he was
hearing. "Don't go?" He started to laugh at Derek. "What the fuck, don't
go. Are you fucking begging me to stay and fuck you again?"

Derek was silent for a second. "Yes."

"Ok, this is bullshit." Paul turned to go and then spun back around. "Are
you in fucking love with me?"

Derek sat silently.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ. You ARE in love with me. You fucking ruined
it. That's it. I'm out." He again turned to leave, picked up his briefcase
and pulled the bedroom door open to leave. "Good luck trying to find
another dude like me to feed your faggot ass!" He said as he turned his
head to look at Derek. He was pissed. Pissed that he had finally found a
real man to fuck, a masculine, tall hunk of muscle. He had found the
perfect bottom. He got off on fucking taller men. It made him feel more
masculine, powerful, dominant. Sure, he always found taller men to fuck but
not one like Derek. His ass was choice. He didn't think he would ever find
another bottom like him. It was such a fluke that he even met him to begin
with.

Paul had been cruising a gay hook up app and found a dude who met his
specifications. He called the wife and told her he was working late. She
believed him.  She always believed him. He wrote down the address of his
hook up and headed out the door. Fifteen minutes later he was knocking on
an apartment door. The door opened and he about shit his pants. There stood
Derek dressed in pajama bottoms and a tighter than tight wife-beater, tall
as hell with wide shoulders that stretched the straps of the undershirt.
Paul was transfixed by the physical beauty of the man.

Paul looked up at him, he collected himself and went into alpha
mode. "Hey."

"Hey?" Derek replied, looking down at the shorter handsome man.

"Are you going to let me in or what?" Paul said as he pushed past Derek and
entered the condo.

Derek turned to him and grabbed his elbow. "Dude, what the fuck? Who the
fuck are you?"

Paul stopped and looked down at Derek's big hand holding his elbow. He
looked up at Derek and cocked his eyebrow. "You wanna take your fucking
hand off me, bitch?"

"Ah, no, BITCH."

Paul jerked his arm away from Derek. "Dude, what the fuck? Let's just screw
and get this over with. I told you I told my wife I'm working late so I've
only got about an hour."

Derek gave him the most confused look. "You told me? What are you talking
about? Get the fuck out or I'm calling 911."

Now it was Paul's turn to look confused. He looked around the room and then
back at Derek.

"Wait. Are you Mike?"

"No. Derek."

"Where's Mike?"

"There is no Mike!"

Paul walked past Derek, opened the door and looked at the number on the
front.

"704."

"Yeah?"

Paul opened the slip of paper with the address he had written on and showed
it to Derek. Derek looked at it and smiled. He handed it back to Paul.

"Ah, I think you wrote 709 but your 9 looks like a 4. You're looking for
Mike in 709." Derek laughed under his breath. "Good luck with him. Cute
guy, terrible lay."

Paul felt so stupid and careless. This guy Mike didn't have a face pic in
his profile, just a torso shot and it was prime. He had no idea what the
guy's face looked like. He had come all this way just to make himself look
like a total ass. Now some random dude knew he was married and fucking
dudes on the side.

"Fuck. Sorry, man."

He turned to leave but stopped. He looked Derek up and down and stared at
the handsome guy, thick muscle, washboard abs could be seen through the
tight undershirt. He stepped back inside and closed the door behind
him. There was no way this dude was a bottom. He was too big to be taken
down. Fuck it.  He decided to see how far he could take it.

"He's a terrible lay?"

"The worst." Derek replied as he looked down at the hot man in his tailored
suit that showed off a tight, lean body.

Jason was out with Michael and probably would stay the night with him. This
guy was hot and obviously a top. Since he was married and fucking around
then he must be an "apocalyptic fuck". The best kind. Ben had fucked him
earlier but seeing this handsome little hunk got his juices flowing again,
this guy's deep sexy voice and his confident demeanor got the inner slut in
him horny.

Paul stared into Derek's eyes. "You get fucked?"

"All bottom." Derek replied confidently.

Shit! Paul had found the fucking holy grail.

"Good. Let's get you fucked."

Derek led him to the bedroom and they've been fucking ever since.

Remembering of this, Paul stood there, he wanted one last look at the
muscular god he was walking away from.

Paul watched as this big, tall, massive muscle god sat on the bed, looking
up at him, his eyes begging him to stay. He would never admit it to anyone
but he often had to pinch himself when he thought about how lucky he got
snagging such a fucking incredibly attractive dude twice his size who
actually loved getting railed like a drunk sorority chic. He has had his
dick up many an ass but never one as hot, tight, muscular and gorgeous as
this one. It's an ass he only had dreamed about until now. He told himself
he wasn't gay, he just really appreciated another athletic, symmetrical,
masculine body like his own. He never kissed so it was just sex, putting
his dick in a hole, the difference was that guy's holes could take a really
hard rough pounding and a chic's couldn't. He needed to give it rough. He
was a real man and real men fucked rough. Real men also took it rough. He
picked Derek because he knew Derek was a real man. A man that no one would
know from outside appearances that he was a faggot cocksucker. A man who
was the epitome of masculinity and physical perfection. A man who could
take a fucking as rough as Paul liked to give, then Paul must be an even
bigger man for dominating a man twice his size.

Derek laid back, feet still on the floor. He torso stretched out, his
ripped abs and oblique's showing awesome definition. His biceps clenched
into tight hard balls as he put his arms out behind his head. The v-shaped
muscles that pointed down from his oblique's to his big erect cock.

"I'll text you." Paul said but couldn't help but stand there and gawk at
the amazing Adonis laying on the bed.

Of course Derek didn't love this guy. He was just one of the best tops
ever, second to Ben. Derek just wanted more of this guy's dick up his ass,
plain and simple. Paul was a prick but man could he fuck. Derek decided he
had to use what he had to get this guy to stay. He let his body do the
talking.

Derek ran his hands over his own pectorals and over his hard abs. He moaned
as he ran a hand down under his balls.  His pumped up quads flexed as his
legs lifted slowly in the air exposing his smooth cum-filled hole. Slowly
his hand moved from his balls to his hole and he slid a finger up in his
ass and gently began fingering himself, flexing his legs and calves as he
did.

Paul started to sweat again.  He watched as Derek fingered his tight hole
with one hand and stroked his big hard cock with the other. His own cock
started to harden inside his expensive suit pants. He watched Derek slide
two fingers in and then saw his own jizz leak out with each pull of Derek's
fingers.

"Please." Derek moaned.

Paul stood frozen. Silent. Torn.

"Please, Sir." Derek whispered as he fingered his hole faster.

Sir? Paul felt a twinge in his stomach and his cock grew harder. He reached
down and slowly stroked his own cock through his pants.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked sternly.

Derek began to finger himself faster and moaning loudly. "Ohhh
goddd... Please fuck me. Paul, you fucking stud."

"Fuck." Paul said frustratingly.

Derek raised his legs until they were straight and then moved them out
until his legs formed a "Y". "Come on, bro. Show me what you can do to my
tight ass. Put your dick in me, man. All your fucking jizz filling my gut
with your boys. You like my ass don't you? All the guys do." Derek raised
his head. "Come on your fucking pussy! Fuck me!!"

Oh hell no. This bitch just call me a pussy? This fucking bitch who gets
fucked by my cock? Me, the pussy? Fucking cocksucking faggot. He has no
fucking right to call me a pussy.

Paul ripped open his belt, undid his pants and pulled his dick out of his
underwear. He was like a blur he did it so fast. Before Derek could lower
his head Paul was between his spread legs and plunged his cock into the
tight hole of his ass. Paul grabbed onto each leg, spread them wider and
thrust into Derek's ass as hard as he ever has.

"Did you call me a pussy, you fucking faggot? Huh?" He reached down with
one hand and grabbed Derek's face and pushed his head to the side into the
pillow. "You fucking called me a pussy? I'm going to fuck you so hard
you're going to think you HAVE a pussy, you fucking piece of shit."

Paul released him and Derek was smiling up at him as his body was jolted
back and forth. "Then fuck me. I'm not your wife so don't fuck me like I
am."

Paul only saw red at this point. Not only was this faggot testing him but
he brought up his fucking wife while his dick is inside him.

Paul pulled his dick out, stepped back, grabbed Derek's ankles and flipped
him around onto his stomach. Without even pausing to reset, Paul literally
jumped on top of Derek's massive back and rammed his cock straight up the
upturned ass under him. The small man, still dressed in a suit, plunging
into the ass of his dream bottom.

"FUUUUCCCCKKK!" Derek moaned.  He had not expected that. The fucking got
more and more violent and verbal.  Paul never became verbal before. He
started to think maybe he shouldn't have egged Paul on so much but it was
the only way to get him to stay and fuck him some more.

"Open up, twat!" Paul said as he used his knees to spread open Derek's legs
and gain more access to the sweet hole. His shoes rubbing against Derek's
calves. His tie hanging down in a spiral on Derek's back as his crisp white
dress shirt began to show signs of sweat on Paul's back.

Paul's tight suit pants stretched to their limit over his bubble-butt as he
thrust in and out of Derek's ass.  Derek held on, gripping the sheets above
his head. Grunting with each thrust.

"Uh...Yeah!...Uh...Fuck...Uh...ME...Uh...Paul!"

"Shut up. Get fucked!"

Paul straightened out his legs and got into a push-up position over Derek's
ass. He raised himself to plank position and let himself slam down onto
Derek's ass and in deep up his ass.

"UGH!..FUCK...UGN...YEAH!" Derek yelled as he was bounced up and down on
the mattress with each plunge.

"Arch your back, faggot. I said ARCH YOUR BACK!"

Derek arched his back, raising his ass higher.  He whole body was flexing
and pulsating as his muscles worked over time to keep up with the onslaught
he was receiving from the smaller man.

Paul stopped fucking and sat up, his dick still in the hole. He ripped off
his suit coat and returned back to fucking.

The fucking continued. Derek was getting what he wanted. Paul had succumbed
to Derek's body and was now using it to get himself off.

Paul was still pissed. He had momentarily lost his hold over Derek. Derek
used his amazingly beautiful body to manipulate him into fucking him more
tonight. It wouldn't never happen again. He gained control again and Derek
was going to feel it and know it. Would he stop seeing Derek? No. He
couldn't afford to. He was the best ass to come along in a long time and he
wasn't about to give it up.

Derek lay flat again. His leg muscles starting to cramp as Paul continued
his pumping. Just as Derek didn't think he could take anymore, Paul fell
hard into his ass and Paul's whole body went rigid. His legs extended
straight out behind him, his hands reached up to grab onto Derek's
traps. He screamed loudly and his cock unloaded into Derek's tight
hole. Paul relaxed, then went rigid again, screamed and hot another volley
into the hole. He did this a third time before his body relaxed, went limp,
draped over Derek's big body. They lay in silence for quite a long
time. Both breathing hard, sweat drenching Paul's dress shirt.

After a few minutes Paul slowly pulled out of Derek's ass. He sat up on the
huge bubble-butt under him and then crawled off. Derek lay flat still
recovering from the fuck. He closed his eyes and relished in what just
transpired. He closed his eyes and smiled. It was then he heard the door
open and a low deep voice.

"I'll text you."

The door closed. Paul had left. Derek kept smiling.

"I know you will."



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