The night brought with it a natural calm that left men to contemplate their lives. It was the time that the unrealized dreams and plans that drifted just beneath the surface of their conscious awareness finally bobbed up to haunt their existence. Michael had many such unrealized dreams and plans, but his relationship wasn’t one of them.
As he took a puff from his cigar, and let the quiet sounds of the night wash over him, he looked over at the man that he called his husband. He was still the same fine looking man from ten years ago. He had a couple of more lines and a somewhat fleshier face, but he had remained remarkably the same. Some men just age like fine wine. Michael had nothing but appreciation for him and it pained him that he didn’t come to that understanding much earlier. He had caused him so much hurt in the past. He had been far too selfish.
At the same time, he could never find it in his heart to apologize to Boone. It just wasn’t in him to truly regret the things that he had done to him. He understood the pain that he had caused, but he didn’t feel that it needed to be addressed in such a manner that it needed an apology. Boone wouldn’t know what to do with it, anyway, and his own conscience had never demanded of him to make amends. He had never done so in the past, either. He took what he wanted and left a trail of victims and wreckage behind.
Michael knew that he was a deeply flawed man but he was what he was and had long since learned never to apologize for it. This world would eat you alive if you did.
“Fill my glass, boy.” He suddenly barked, hushing the last evening birds in their twilight song.
“Yes, Sir.” Boone said with a sarcastic smile, putting his wine glass down on the table. “Anything else, Sir?” His response was dripping with such an overt sarcasm that it left Michael with no other choice but to revert to the role that he had been playing for the last decade.
“You’re getting too willful, boy. Remember what happened the last time that you did.”
Michael saw the intended reaction in the face of his husband, who winced instinctively. The wince contorted his handsome face with such a hurt that Michael almost felt regretful. He had long since come to understand that he loved Boone more than he cared to admit and didn’t want to hurt him more than he needed to. His decision to make Boone his husband when he reached the age of forty-two was the best decision that he had ever made.
Boone was ten years younger than him and had a boyfriend at the time, but Michael didn’t care one whit. He had been working with Boone on-and-off in the same company for the better part of a year and had come to know him as a decent and upstanding man. But when he saw him make such an effort for the anniversary of his boyfriend, he finally decided that he wanted him and made plans to snatch him away from his boyfriend of more than three years.
There was already a sexual chemistry building between the two, if only because Michael deliberately fed into it and on Boone’s anniversary day he deliberately put the moves on him, ruining what would have been a special day. He got a real kick out of fucking Boone that day. That wild night still put a grin on his face, even after all that time. It caused a world of hurt for Boone, his boyfriend – who turned out to be his fiancé – and both of their families, and Michael understood that he had done something truly depraved, but he got so much out of it that he still remembered that night with wicked delight.
He had put his fangs in Boone’s flesh that night and he had never stopped devouring him since.
Michael was a natural predator who always ended up as the dominant one in any group that he was in. He ruffled a lot of feathers before he learned how to navigate safely around the unspoken rules of society. The rules tended to be largely the same in the many social circles that he traveled but there was one circle that absolutely worshiped him for being the naturally dominant man that he was. Gay men simply loved him. It was there amongst those randy fuckers that he could finally be himself. He was also tall, strong and handsome, which practically made him gay royalty in the superficial world of gay men. They were the trifecta of traits that all gay men coveted, but the raw masculine dominance that he exuded out of his every pore made their hearts flutter out of a sheer raunchy lust that would make any straight man blush.
He would have fucked every single last hunk that he could find if the disease and shit hadn’t put a damper on his campaign of sexual conquest. It simply wasn’t worth the risk to wager his health on a night full of fun with a worthless fag, and the anal sex had more uncalled for surprises than he cared for. But while women were fun, men were much more entertaining, and they also seemed to get him more. There was just something that switched on when he was with another man. And so he became a serial monogamist who devoured men whole and spit them out again when he was done with them. It allowed for him to control enough of their lives that it kept him healthy and safe.
This continued until his late thirties, whereupon he began to realize that he needed a companion to grow old with. This world was a brutal and lonely place and he needed someone to have his back. He tried women again, with the thought of starting a family, but at that point he understood that while he could fuck a woman, he couldn’t begin to be in a relationship with one. They were simply too needy, emotional and prone to melodrama. He needed a man like himself – who was calm and rational. Someone he could look to as an equal and count on when things didn’t go his way.
The problem was that he hadn’t been in a single relationship where he was on equal footing with his boyfriend. There was always a screwed up power dynamic involved, where he was the man on top and the other did what he was told. It always worked out that way, no matter how hard he tried. There was just something about him that brought other men to their knees. That made them kneel in submission and beg for his attention. Like he was some sort of natural-born dungeon master.
It made his life a whole lot of fun - that he had to admit - and he’s had a wild ride up until that point, but at the end of the day it wasn’t what he thought a relationship should be like. He needed a guy that would be there for him during the hard times. That wouldn’t bail on him once times got tough. And the times always got tough, that was one universal rule that everyone could count on. He also wanted to try something new, a relationship like normal men had.
Surely, it must have been possible.
It took him several years of trying for him to come to the understanding that the possible was very much impossible when it came to gay men. All of them turned out to be fucked up sexual deviants with ulterior motives or psychological messes that he didn’t want to go near with a sex offender’s dick, much less his own. If there was going to be a sexual deviant in the relationship, it would have been him, and he had enough problems to deal with on his own for him to also have room for another man’s problems.
Where were all the laid back and carefree guys? If he was willing to take care of his own shit, despite his many foibles and shortcomings, surely there must be others, but he couldn’t find a single one. He was a hit on all the apps and websites, but it always ended up in disappointment. You would think a handsome fellah would be able to find a stable and sensible guy who could stand up to him. Sure, he also had to be hot and playful in bed, but such things shouldn’t be that hard to find. They simply shouldn’t have been, but they were.
He even started dreaming of that house with a white picket fence and a handsome guy to come home to. He would open the door and his handsome husband would be waiting for him with a kiss and a bear hug, and then the smell of his husband’s freshly cooked dinner would wave him on to domestic felicity. Instead, he was met a slobbering and overexcited dog in a lonely apartment that got ever more lonelier and the will to cook for himself left him more and more with each passing day. Friends and colleagues could only do so much.
It was around this time that he had met Boone. He was one of those IT-guys at his company that occasionally got assigned to his team to work on a project. He was a fairly handsome guy for an IT-nerd. He was athletic enough to fill out his shirt, but not enough to show off his abs. He appeared to be well-liked amongst his peers and colleagues. Michael immediately sniffed him out as a gay guy, although he couldn’t find him on any of the apps or websites. He could usually tell from the looks they gave him.
Boone wasn’t his type but he did have fun showing himself off to him. The occasional hands behind the head lean-back stretch on the chair or the more shameless crotch scratch usually did the trick. Boone couldn’t keep his eyes off him but Michael wasn’t interested. It was only after he learned months later that Boone had a boyfriend that he started to seriously take notice of him. His boyfriend was even kind of hot. Some sort of mid-level manager with a smart dress sense and great haircut. The two made a good looking couple but he had seen plenty of those before. He gave them another year before the two would end up breaking up like a SpaceX rocket returning from orbit.
As the months turned into a full year he started to grow annoyed and even slightly resentful that Boone hadn’t split up with his boyfriend. He wanted to hear about the fireworks. All the pettiness and drama. The rancor and recriminations. In lieu he saw how Boone got ever more contented and happy. Eventually the man was positively glowing and as merry as a hobbit in the Shire. Michael had become deeply jealous of him. He wanted what Boone had and started dating again with a renewed vigor. He was going to find that one man if he had to date every single last gay guy in the city.
It turned into a veritable tour de force, with Michael dating several men each week. He quickly fell into old habits and starting chewing them up and spitting them out as fast as he could fuck their brains out. It became an unending stream of hot steamy sex with one guy after the other. His natural drive to dominate fully emerged once again to wreak havoc amongst his dates. He was wining and dining them in restaurants only to skull-fuck them into submission and pissing in their faces in their apartments. It was wild and completely insane.
It was when he was banging a hot executive muscle stud against the glass wall of his high rise apartment in full view of the apartments in the opposing building, that he suddenly realized what he was doing. In a flash, he remembered that viral incident of the Chinese couple falling to their deaths in exactly the same way – they were going at it and the glass broke – and wondered what the news stories would say if it happened to him. If they were honest they would say that it was just two worthless fags having fucked up exhibitionistic sex during a meaningless hook-up, resulting in their timely deaths. But he knew that it would just end up as a tragic-but-funny nondescript news story on social media. Just vague enough to be funny, but not enough to cause offense.
He couldn’t let that thought go as he was fucking the muscle stud. He felt his chest heaving from the fucking and the sweat dripping down his forehead, but as he kept on fucking, he increasingly became more and more aware of himself. He had felt this overwhelming feeling before, and made sure to tear that stud’s ass apart even harder with his huge dick in a vain effort to stave off that encroaching feeling of rage and pure destruction that he had known for most of his adult life. Only through raw unfettered fucking could he work through that fucked up emotional state that kept ambushing him.
The muscle stud started moaning louder and leaning his ass into the pounding movement in response, screaming all manner of things with the word ‘Daddy’ attached to it and encouraged Michael to fuck him even harder. It was the invitation that Michael was waiting for and grunted his approval. He started pounding that muscle stud so hard that he was beginning to believe that he was really trying to ram through that reinforced high-rise glass window with brute force. In return the muscle stud practically pushed his entire body against that of Michael’s forceful embrace and unrelenting fuck onslaught.
The window began to make rough vibrating sounds and Michael started to realize that his fears were very much real, but he loved the feeling of slamming into those taut ass cheeks and grabbed the muscle stud by the hair and pulled his head back, so that he could kiss him. The muscle stud was caught in such a sex fueled delirium that he barely registered what Michael was doing. It took him a moment in-between his heavy panting to realize that he was supposed to welcome Michael’s tongue. He appeared to be completely oblivious to the meaning of the sounds that the high-rise windows were making.
“I’m going to fuck you to death, you faggot.” Michael whisper-growled at the faggot, as he kissed him. “Yes, do me, daddy!” was the mindless response he got after he stopped kissing the muscle stud. It made Michael furious, but it also gave him a sense of vindication. He was truly treating this muscle stud like the fucked up faggot that he was. He could really fuck him to death and the faggot would be completely oblivious up until both would burst through the window and fall to their deaths.
It was then that his body went past the point of no return and Michael came with a rage-fueled growl. He almost strangled that muscle stud to death during his orgasm, so intense it was. With one of his big arms wrapped around the faggot’s neck, he kept on pushing deep with each pumping-spasm. Even during his climax, Michael was instinctively grinding the muscle stud’s delicious ass so hard that he was making the faggot moan with feverish abandon. Michael felt how the faggot started to clamp down with his cheeks and trying to tighten his anal ring. It was like the faggot was trying to squeeze every last drop of pleasure out of his big throbbing cock.
Michael let him have his fun and started caressing the inner thighs and area around the faggot’s cock with his free hand, while keeping him locked in his choke hold with the other arm. He wanted that faggot to feel that he was owned by him. The faggot’s warm and sweaty body started to writhe in response and his ass cheeks started to rhythmically clamp down, with his anal ring following suit, which also began to intermittently tighten.
Michael was still breathing heavily from the exertion, on top of feeling the exhaustion of the fading orgasm, when the renewed sensation began to reignite his passion. He loved feeling that warm and eager muscle stud in his tight embrace pressed up against his body. The entire thing felt heavenly to Michael and he decided to ride it out. Let the faggot have his moment. It took Michael a minute or more to once again get to the point that he needed to grind that faggot’s ass. To start pumping that hard-as-rock cock inside of the faggot’s tight and hungry hole again. He sighed with such satisfaction when he came a second time that the faggot was begging for his daddy to also let him cum. He desperately wanted to share in Michael’s pleasure.
But after Michael was done shooting his load up the faggot’s ass, he pushed himself away from the faggot and stumbled over to the kitchen island behind him. He dropped his slimy twice-filled condom to the floor on the way and grabbed his whiskey glass from the black countertop, knocking it back. He savored the flavor of the whiskey as the kick of the alcohol added to his tingling post-orgasmic buzz that radiated through his entire body.
The muscle stud approached him soon after, begging for more - as he still hadn’t emptied his balls - but Michael pushed that used up faggot to the floor. “Know your place, faggot! And wait your turn.” He snapped at him. Michael didn’t care one whit that the muscle stud hadn’t finished. That faggot was there to be used and serve him. That’s what his lot in life was. To be used and abused by other men and then to be cast aside. If he didn’t care about himself, then why should Michael?
The muscle stud wisely stayed on his knees and crawled back to Michael, trying to grab his limp dick still slick with cum and put it in his mouth. “Please, daddy! Please!” He begged again, while trying to lick Michael’s half-deflated cock clean.
Michael looked down on the pathetic excuse for a man and peered into his lustful eyes. He realized that he loved and both hated seeing grown men that desperate. They were slaves to their desires and that made them putty in his hands. He could make him do anything he wanted and the faggot would beg for more. This world was fucked up and he loved those faggots for it. He was growing hard again with the idea of fucking that pathetic faggot a third time. Giving him the big throbbing meat he craved for despite the faggot’s every ounce of will power trying to fight against it. The faggot had already given away his self-respect for the chance to take Michael’s cock up the ass and now he sought to humiliate himself even further.
He callously pushed the faggot’s head back and teasingly moved his big throbbing cock up and down in front of the fag’s confused face, while taunting him that he wanted it. The fag started instinctively begging for his cock and it made Michael even harder. “You need, this. Don’t you, faggot?” He barked.
Michael felt his huge cock throb with an angry impatience. It followed the powerful rhythm of his heart, as it thudded angrily in his big chest. It grew faster with the exciting promise of renewed sexual conquest. He grabbed the faggot by his hair and shoved his cock in his mouth, slamming it in all the way down into his throat. The faggot started gagging almost immediately, but it just made Michael laugh. It was a familiar sound that he had grown all too accustomed to.
He made him really choke on it. The tears were running down the faggot’s face and he was struggling to breathe and take that big cock down his throat, making all sorts of awful gasping and rasping sounds. It brought a calming smile to Michael’s face as his big cock caused so much strain and effort. He put that faggot to the test with each thrust of his cock. Eventually Michael was holding the faggot’s head firmly in place, while he was harshly slamming his cock down the faggot’s throat. There was no escape. His balls were slapping into the faggot’s chin and he was burying the faggot’s nose in his lush pubic hair.
This was the life he was always meant to lead. Why the hell he ever thought that he could be any different was beyond him. In this life you took what you needed and if they tried to stop you, you would stamp them into the ground. He knew in that moment that he was a horribly selfish person who left a trail of victims and destruction in his wake but he had as much a right to live like anyone else. If society could find a place for these worthless faggots, then it should also have a place for him. He suddenly pushed the faggot’s head from his cock and shoved him down the pricey floor. Then he grabbed his dick and gave it a couple of tugs, upon which he blew his load and came a third time that night. Thick strands of cum arched through the air and landed on the faggot’s sweaty body, one after the other. Michael’s toes curled from the orgasmic satisfaction and his ragged breathing started to make his chest heave again in excitement.
It was hilarious seeing the heavily breathing faggot frantically paw at the cum and attempting to bring the superior man-ooze to his mouth. What a pathetic excuse for a man. The worthless faggot literally had everything. Looks, health, a body to kill for, a six-figure job and the promise of success that would allow him to live in the lap of luxury from now until the end of his days, but all he wanted in that moment was the taste of Michael’s cum. His raging desires had reduced him to this defeated and slumped figure on the floor. Michael’s gaze then fell on the throbbing cock of the faggot, futilely moving up and down as if it was a fish gasping for air on dry land, and he wanted to crush it beneath his heel.
“Stand up, faggot!” He bellowed.
The faggot scrambled to his feet but he didn’t stand for long. Michael had immediately punched him in his balls with a devastating swift uppercut. The faggot yelped out a guttural groan as if he was deeply wounded and collapsed back onto the floor, sitting there on his knees hunched over, with both his hands trying futilely to protect his cock and balls, too painful for actual touch. He tried to speak but it was like he couldn’t breathe. The look of pure anguish on his face almost made Michael feel something for the whimpering and crying faggot.
He let out a laugh and turned to fill his glass again with the pricey whiskey of the faggot. He had to admit, that the faggot had great taste and knew how to treat his guests. Perhaps he wasn’t all that bad, but Michael knew that this faggot didn’t have anything inside of him that would register as even remotely human. He was hollow inside. He was nothing like Boone, who seemed to be a genuine person with actual feelings. With a sense of decency and shame.
The idea of Boone made him even angrier but he knew that the faggot had had enough. If he continued and did what he really wanted to do, he would brush up against the law, and that was something he had always tried to avoid in his life. Instead, he put on the charm and pretended to care about the fate of the faggot. He filled up the faggot’s glass with whiskey and held it in front of his anguished face.
“It was but a love tap, faggot. You know that you really enjoyed it. Didn’t you, faggot?” And then the faggot actually started nodding, sputtering and grunting: “Yes, daddy. I love how you show me my place.” Michael had at this point seen it all and couldn’t even act surprised if he wanted to. These fags would tolerate absolutely anything from him.
It took ten minutes of patient nursing and caring for the faggot to finally recompose himself somewhat. Apparently, the punch had seriously hurt his balls but even despite the pain, he still had a raging hard-on. Michael grew angrier and angrier at the sight of that lop-sided throbbing cock, but held himself back, knowing that the faggot would cause him too much trouble with the police if he showed him his true place in life.
Instead, he stood up and towered above the miserable faggot who was still on his knees on the floor. He took a wider stance, leaned slightly back, then grabbed his half-limp cock and pointed it at the faggot, who had took notice and was looking up with a lustful hunger that knew only humiliation and despair. Then a stream of deep yellow piss hit the faggot in his face, who instinctively opened his mouth and tried to gulp down the smelly piss. There was so much piss flowing that it started pooling in his throat.
“You like that. Don’t you, faggot?”
The faggot once again tried to nod in agreement, while the piss was landing on his face, spattering all over the place.
It was a glorious sight and Michael looked down with approval as he emptied his bladder, making sure to purposefully miss his face and piss all over the faggot’s body, drenching him with his urine. He wanted the stench of his piss to seep into the faggot’s every pore, marking him for life, but he knew that it didn't work that way. At least it made for a good mess on his pricey floor.
After he had given his cock a little shake to get rid of the last drops of piss, he walked over to his pants and started to put them on. He was meaning to leave his dirty boxer briefs behind as a parting gift for the fag, in order to smooth things over for the punch to the balls, but he thought better of it. He had other plans for those boxer briefs. He tauntingly told the fag that he shouldn’t cum for at least two weeks if he didn’t want to make the injuries to his balls more serious and then left that spectacular apartment behind him, making sure to scoop up the used condom as he did.
Two days later Boone and his boyfriend received a little package in the mail. “Thanks for the wild ride, faggot” the little note accompanying the dirty boxer briefs and soggy condom said. Michael wanted fireworks and he was going to damn well see them.
(To be continued.)
