Asheville After Dar

Sunday afternoon. Early in the day. We both knew why he was there.

We connected through a casual sex message board and planned our encounter the night before. He would come to my apartment, a rundown brick tenement building built in the 1920s near downtown Asheville. Owned by a notorious slumlord, he collected the meager rent once a month but refused to maintain the apartment. This meant heat in the winter. No AC in the summer. The apartment was cheap, cheaper than almost anywhere in town, but scurrying roaches and rodents were a constant companion.

I would be waiting, ready to serve him, offering my body an altar of devotion to his desire. I picked out black panties, a matching bra, and a thin skirt that untied with ease. My makeup was perfect, ready to be ruined. Lips soft and painted, anticipation unfurling inside, sending a hot wave of arousal downward to my cock.

A knock at the door.

I opened it, taking him in. Messy brown hair, deep brown eyes, shorter than me in heels but exuding quiet confidence.

"Hey," I murmured.

He didn't answer with words. His mouth was on mine, warm, insistent, tongue sliding between my lips. The kiss deepened, lust rising between us, thickening the air.

I dropped to my knees, hands already working at his belt, tugging it loose. His breath caught as I tugged his jeans down, his cock already swelling beneath the fabric before breaking free. It was perfect - shaved smooth, just the right size.

We had agreed on safer sex practices beforehand. Barriers for everything, even oral, so I wasted no time unrolling a condom down the length of his cock. The latex stretched tight beneath my fingertips as I took him into my mouth. That familiar taste of latex and the heat of his cock filled my mouth. Intoxicating, inviting, the scent of him filled my nostrils. I worked into a rhythm, sliding my lips down his shaft, letting him hit the back of my throat before pulling back.

He leaned into the wall, his fingers tangling through my hair. Gentle at first, then rougher, insistent. His hands pressed against the back of my head, forcing me down. He began to thrust each stroke deeper, more demanding, indifferent to my gag reflex.

Tears blurred my vision as I fought to breathe, his cock punishing my throat. My own muffled moans trembled around him, drawing a deep groan from his chest. My fingers dug into his thighs, nails pressing in as I surrendered.

He yanked my hair suddenly, pulling his cock out of my mouth, leaving me gasping. He looked down at me, eyes dark with power.

"Stick out your tongue, bitch."

I obeyed without hesitation.

A wet smack echoed as he slapped his cock against my tongue, dragging it over my face, smearing spit and tears across my skin. My body shuddered, sinking deeper into submission. I wilted into the floor, a whimper escaping my lips as I leaned in, nuzzling against him, licking his balls, eager for more.

"You're a perfect cocksucker."

A smile stretched across my ruined lipstick. "I am," I purred, voice heavy with the weight of lust. "But now, I want to offer you my ass."

Without another word, I dropped onto all fours, crawling across the floor like the depraved, cock-hungry slut I was. The rough, decades-old hardwood bit into my knees, dragging me further down into debasement, reminding me of my place. I belonged here, on this filthy floor, accepting my place in the sacred lineage of queer whoredom, offering my body not as my own, but as a vessel for another's pleasure.

Reaching the bed, I positioned myself face down, arching my back, presenting my ass to him. My fingers trembled as I hooked them into my panties, dragging them down my legs, offering myself. I spread my cheeks open for him, baring my hole, waiting, consumed with a desire to be filled.

He moved behind me, reaching for the container of lube on my nightstand. The sound of the cap snapping open sent a fresh shiver down my spine. A cool slickness coated his fingers as he spread the gel over his cock, then down between my cheeks, pressing against my entrance.

And then he pushed inside.

He was patient, so gentle. The pressure was steady, yet insistent, as he entered me with minimal discomfort. Like a song, slow and unrelenting to match the rhythm of my desires, he waited for my body to open, to accept him. I exhaled, willing myself to relax, to surrender. He pushed his cock deeper. My muscles tightened for a moment, fighting the instinct to push him out before yielding. He stayed there like that, motionless, until my muscles offered no more resistance, stretching to take him inside.

"God, you're a tight little slut," he growled, breath ragged, hips flexing as he pushed deeper.

I moaned, adjusting, feeling my body surrender inch by inch. As the last lingering discomfort gave way to a steady pleasurable sensation, he started fucking me, and we found our rhythm. I bucked my hips, pushing back, needing him to thrust deeper. His fingers dug into my soft hips, rough, commanding, holding me still as he drove into me harder. My body enveloped him, my nerves raw and awake and so alive. He slammed into me, his grip like iron, pulling me back onto his cock with every stroke.

I could do nothing but take it. And I wanted nothing more.

"I need to feel you cum in my mouth, even if it's through a condom," I rasped.

He let out a short laugh. "Wait. Are you serious? After I just fucked your ass?"

"I don't care! I need it! Please, sir! Let me suck you clean! I'm begging. Let me taste my ass. I need to feel the power of your orgasm on my tongue."

"Fine. Have it your way, slut. Open up."

He pulled his cock free from my clenching hole, wet and gleaming, and positioned himself on his back. Arms behind his head. Waiting. An image of effortless dominance. We may not have known each other's names, but in that moment, he knew I belonged to him.

I threw myself onto the bed. In an ultimate act of depravity, I wrapped my hands around his shaft, so hard, hot, and slick with lube, ready to explode. Ignoring the tiniest speck of shit on the condom, I took him into my mouth. Whimpering around his length, I worked my tongue over every inch of his cock, the taste of my own asshole lingering faintly as I cleaned him off.

"That's it, bitch. Suck me clean like a good whore. I'm gonna cum."

His voice deepened, raw with dominance.

Cupping his balls in my hand, I massaged them, feeling them tighten as I took him deeper, bobbing up and down with renewed fervor. His grip on the back of my head hardened, pushing me down, forcing me to take every inch of his cock. His breath quickened to a frenzied pace before a guttural groan erupted from his throat.

His cock twitched, each spasm of release pulsing against my tongue. The power of his orgasm flooded my mouth, even through the condom. Every muscle in his thighs clenched in my palms as rapture overtook him. I moaned around his cock, basking in his shudders, his pleasure, my own submission complete.