Erotic gay story of hot seduction by shopkeeper: 2
Bondage gay story: Gibran felt a shudder run through the boy’s body, “Yeh bhi bikau nahi hain sahab,” he said as he pushed his arse back, trying to get past Gibran’s hands to his hard and ready cock, nothing was enough for this greedy little slut.
Gibran took his hand off the boy’s neck and placed it on his arse and squeezed hard, spreading his cheeks to get a good glimpse of his hole. The boy had a dark, wheatish complexion, but the ring around his pussy was darker, drawing attention to it, like a target on a dart board, begging to be pierced.
“Toh phir muje jabardasti chori karke apna banana padege.” Gibran growled back as he pulled the boy flush against him, squeezing his cock in between them, his moan mirroring the boy’s own desperate cry.
He frotted against the boy spreading his precum all over his arse and made sure to press the boy’s cock against the step of the ladder to give his, surely leaking and hard by now, cock some relief. The boy even moaned like a slut, no holds barred, he just gave into the pleasure.
He saw the boy try to reach for his cock to relive himself and brought his hand down hard against his arsecheeks – slap
slap slap slap
The boy was surprised by the sudden assault and Gibran used this time to grab his hands and tie them to the railing using the boy’s own pants.
“Zyaada utavla mat ho. Tuje aaj sirf tere gaand se maza dilaunga. The boy turned around to look at Gibran.
His eyes were watery and pleading, his cheeks flushed; it was the most erotic thing Gibran had seen, almost pornographic. He quickly fished out his phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of the boy’s lewd body as it was tied against the ladder.
He made sure to even get a few of his rock hard cock against the boy’s arse, cum dribbling out onto his partially covered cunt, one with a focus on the precum spread all over the boy’s arse and the red handprints he had left that has made the boy almost tear up, and one with the focus on the boy’s face, clearly begging to be taken, and taken roughly by Gibran’s big, hard, wet, and willing cock.
He then put his phone back in his pocket and pulled his pants down all the way, getting ready to finally give his cock a taste of that tight little hole. He put his hand out in front of the boy “thuk”; the boy spat out a generous amount of saliva.
He had probably caught a good look at Gibran’s cock and didn’t want to take any chances. Gibran smiled as he knelt down and lifted the string up from the boy’s twitching cunt, pushing it to the side, and palmed the spit all over his hole.
He pushed one finger in, taking a little bit of the spit with him and smiled as the boy resumed his slutty moans. Nothing turned him on more than a thirsty bottom who made it known how much he was enjoying himself.
He felt around that warm, tight cunt a little and put in another finger; this time, reaching his prostrate and teasing it, eliciting the most delicious cry from the boy as he desperately bucked back onto his fingers, trying to get his prostrate teased more.
Gibran needed to open him up more for his cock, but the spit was drying up, so he used his other hand to collect all the precum drooling out of his cock and used it to put in a third finger in, spreading the boy out enough to take the tip of his cock in.
He needed more. He put the string back over the boy’s now stretched out hole and extended both his hands to the boy’s crotch; it was dripping wet.
He pulled the fabric from over the boy’s cock, freeing it and at the same time hearing the boy wince in delicious pain as the string at the back undoubtedly pressed down on his now tender hole like a wedgie.
He held the fabric up with one hand for a little longer, tugging at it, and one hand under the boy’s cock, which was now dripping precum with every tug. Gibran chuckled.
It was almost like he was milking this little slut. And from the heavy breathing and whines he could hear, the boy was beyond ordinary pleasure.
Once he had enough precum to work with, he carefully covered the boy’s cock with the fabric again, denying him the pleasure of having his cock out and able to cum with some sort of friction.
He then resumed his assault on the boy’s cunt; this time, starting with three fingers, using the boy’s own precum to push in a fourth. He had never been into fisting, but he could now see why it could be hot – spreading a slut’s hole so far that it was loose enough to take any cock and having that control over them must be wild.
He continued to spread the boy’s hole with his three fingers. He then pulled out and used two fingers from each of his hands pulling open the boy’s pussy, stretching it, and spat right in, followed by a renewed assault from his tongue, making the boy squirm.
He tasted a little musky and salty, but most of all it was warm and tight. He couldn’t wait to feel the boy’s heat wrap around his cock, like it did his tongue.
Pulling all of his fingers and then his tongue out, Gibran left the boy feeling empty. He squeezed the boy’s arse and jiggled the cheeks, watching as they bounced up and down a little awkwardly as they tried to close over the boy’s loose, ready hole.
He then spread the cheeks hard and began licking long stripes from the boy’s cunt, down to his balls, one of which had remained out. He took the boy’s sweaty ball into his mouth and lightly grazed it with his teeth. The boy was begging for release now, shamelessly pushing his arse back and smooshing its pillowy cheeks against Gibran’s face.
This would be a good way to die Gibran thought – suffocating under the most beautiful arse. His own cock too was now jerking up and begging for his attention, it had been teased enough, and so had the boy.
Gibran stood up, and lined his cock at the boy’s now loose entrance, barely breaching it with the tip of his cock. He then pulled the boy by his surprisingly soft hair and licked his ear whispering, “Chori toh ho gayi, ab apna banane ka waqt hain. Koi Shikayat?”
The boy desperately pushed his arse back in response making Gibran’s cock head finally breach his hole. He yelped out. Even loose, Gibran knew his cock was difficult to take. He stayed still and let the boy adjust.
After a few seconds he tried to push a couple more of inches his cock in but was met with resistance. The boy turned around, even with just the head of his cock in, the boy looked well-fucked, “Kaafi badi hain na, toh thoda time lag jayega,” the boy said again.
Gibran realized that the boy was still teasing him. He felt a little angry about how this little slut had been nothing but a fucking cock tease ever since he walked into this store.
He had probably left that perfectly carved pot there on purpose to entice men into getting horny so they’d fuck his needy little arse.
“Bada lamba game khela hain tune” Gibran growled out and pushed the entirety of his cock in making the boy gasp in pain and pleasure, “Lekin ab mera game, mere rules”
He pulled back out and slammed right back into the boy, roughly pushing the boy against the ladder, knowing that his cock was trapped between the step and his body and he would soon come undone.
He tugged at the boy’s hair again, as he kept slamming into him, feeling his tight, hot chute wrap around his cock and squeeze it out as he fucked him mercilessly. This was incredible. The boy’s chute was relentless; it wouldn’t stop until it had sucked out every last drop of his cum.
He had known he would be gardening today, but he never imagined he’d be sowing his seed in this soft, curvy, lewd pot.
Gibran continued to fuck the boy hard and fast, tugging at his hair, slapping at his arse, as he moved his hips in yearning for his own release.
He suddenly felt the boy clamp down on him and saw as the boy’s mouth was left wide open, a soundless scream escaping his lips as he came uncontrollably inside his langot, his prostrate and cunt pulsing from orgasm, continuously clamping down on Gibran’s cock determined to end this fuck with his orgasm.
The boy turned around, that same knowing smile on his face as he began to move and gyrate, and squeeze Gibran’s cock; he wanted cum, and he wanted it deep inside his arse.
All this while, Gibran thought he was the one in control, but seeing the boy expertly move his hips and entice him with his smile, Gibran realized he was a goner – the minute he had walked into this shop and shown interest in that pot, he was a goner.
This boy knew exactly what he wanted, and how to get it. But Gibran didn’t care, he continued to plow the boy’s pussy with whatever little stamina he had left, before his cock violently shot out cum, painting the boy’s insides with hot, thick liquid.
Gibran didn’t know who was moaning more, the boy or he. All he knew was that he had just had the fuck of his life. He glanced to the side at the pot and once more appreciated the artistry before he finally closed his eyes and fell forward, leaning on the boy, desperate to catch his breath.
When he finally came down from his orgasm high, Gibran moved off the boy, his cock slipping out leaving two streams of cum dribbling out in its absence. He pulled his phone out of his pants and snapped a few pictures of the boy and his well-fucked and cream-pied hole.
Hearing the shutter sounds, the boy turned around, giving Gibran a few snaps with his blushing, satisfied, teary face. Gibran then pulled up his pants and tucked his cock in.
Luckily, he hadn’t got cum anywhere on himself. The boy though was not so lucky. His front was wet from his own cum and Gibran’s cum was still pooling out of his puffy hole. It turned Gibran on and angered him to see this boy leaking and wasting his seed.
He looked around and found a small, narrow copper jar, he pulled the boy’s arse up and began scooping the cum back into the cunt with his fingers. The boy turned around confused. He was about to ask what Gibran was up to when Gibran finished pushing all of his cum back into the boy’s cunt and shoved the copper jar he had found, plugging the boy’s arse.
The boy moaned from pleasure and wriggled from protest. Gibran liked what he saw. Then he reached for the boy’s hands to untie them.
Before he did so, he asked “Woh madka kisne banaya?” This time the boy knew he had to answer or Gibran might just leave him in this state.
“Bhaiya ne” He said curtly.
“Kyun?” Gibran coaxed.
Kyunki aap jaise bohot log yahaan ate hain aur mere gaand ko dekh ke pagla jaate hain, muje chodna chahte hain. Bhaiya ko yeh pasand nahi hain. Ab jab log ate hain toh madke ko dekhte hain. Isiliye woh bikau nahi hain” He said the last part with a smirk, though he was too exhausted from the fuck to do it right.
Bondage gay story of a slutty shopkeeper twink
“Mitti ka kitna?” Gibran asked, changing the topic.
“Rs 200”. He was confused.
Gibran pulled out two Rs 100 notes from his wallet and ran it down the boy’s back, then shoved one note on each side of the langot string going around the boy’s waist. He put his wallet back in and walked up to the pot and picked it up.
He then proceeded to put one sack into the pot and lifted the other in his hand.
“Kya kar rahe ho? Woh bikau nahi hain! Bhaiya abhi ate hi honge!” The boy called out urgently. Gibran walked up to the boy, with a devious smile on his face. He leaned in, licked the boy’s ear and bit it, whispering…
“Bhaiya ko bolna koi loot ke chala gaya.” Gibran pulled back, enjoying the look on the boy’s face as he realized that Gibran was not going to free him and that his brother was going to find him lewdly tied to the staircase, hole stretched out, covered in cum.
Gibran winked at him, walked out, and shut the door behind him.
Author Note:
Hi Guys!
Hope you enjoyed the new story. Let me know your thoughts on [email protected]. I am also open to any recommendations, prompts, suggestions, etc.
