Sex confession- Indian hunk dominating an American ass

Title: My first time with an Indian Dom.

I met Suresh almost by mistake.

At the time, I was still living with my boyfriend. Things weren’t bad, but
they weren’t thrilling either. One night, in a moment of quiet curiosity and loneliness, I downloaded Grindr, just to make some friends.

That’s how I met him.

He said he was new to the U.S. and just wanted to meet people. He seemed harmless, but direct. I invited him to meet me at my social club. When he arrived, I was already halfway through a drink.

He didn’t drink which was fine. He had an intense stare, smiled easily and laughed at all my jokes. But his stare, he didn’t just look at me, he *studied* me.

After a couple of drinks, I told him I was going to walk home. He tilted his head slightly, then asked, “Can I see the roof first?”

The club’s rooftop was usually empty on weeknights, just a few scattered tables and soft lights. We were looking at the skyline when he saw the bathrooms. Single-person bathrooms for the pool —the kind with private
showers—and asked to see them. I thought it was weird, but agreed.

We slipped inside one of the bathrooms, he quietly closed the door behind
us.

“Show me your pussy,” he said.

I was confused. I’d never heard that word used *like that*, especially from a man to another man. It caught me completely off guard—I laughed awkwardly.

Before I could respond, he spun me around and pressed me against the wall. First I was angry then turned on. He tugged down my pants and spread my cheeks without hesitation. I tried to speak—something halfway between a protest and a question—but he cut me off firmly.

“Shut up.”

And I did.

He barked “Hold it open!” (he meant my butt cheeks). Then I heard the soft
click of his phone camera. He was taking pictures—of me, of my hole. I didn’t move.

Then I felt his tongue.

He ate me out slowly at first, then with increasing hunger, until I was squirming, hard. I reached for my cock which had become hard, but he growled, “No!,” and took my hand, pressing it flat against the wall.

A moment later, I heard him stand open a belt and unzip his pants . Then, without a word, I felt the him press the thick head of his cock against my tight pink hole—wet, thick, and eager. He spit once again , then pushed in
forcing me open.

I gasped. My whole body clenched, but he held me still and drove deeper, stretching me so wide I thought I’d split. It hurt, just for a moment… then the pain melted into something pure pleasure .

I tried again to touch myself. He grabbed my wrist and slammed it against the wall, harder this time. When I tried to speak, he covered my mouth with both hands and fucked me—deep and fast, like he owned me.

And maybe, in that moment, he did.

He pulled his hands away just long enough to growl, “Do you want me to get you pregnant?”

I’ve never been asked that. So hot and perverted.

“Yes,” I whispered, breathless.

He grabbed my jaw turning my head around with a jerk. “Yes *what*?”

I hesitated, heart pounding. “Yes, sir.”

He put his fingers in my mouth and pulled my chin to my chest.

“Whose pussy is this?”

“It’s yours” I mumbled through his fingers.

He took his fingers out and grabbed my face “What!” He barked.

“It’s yours, Sir!”

He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me tight, and came hard inside me. I could feel his ropes shoot inside me, the warmth filling me up.

I found my self wishing he had got me pregnant, which was a new feeling. He held still, buried deep, until the last pulse of him emptied his balls into me.

“Don’t move,” he said. He kissed the back of my neck sweetly.

When he pulled out, he told me to spread my cheeks again. I did, obediently, and he took more photos of the damage he had caused. My hole gaped with cum leaking from me, dripping.

I was surprised when he spun me around, pushed me to my knees, and slid his softening cock into my mouth. It was still slick, still hot, and since it was soft he could push it down my throat easily.

He groaned, held both sides of my head and fucked it, he began to harden again as I sucked (or as he fucked I guess lol).

“Now you can touch yourself.” He ordered.

I did— and just a few pumps of my cock, I came hard, all over the wall and
floor as he pushed deeper down my throat.

A second later, he grunted, and warmth flooded my mouth again—thick, salty, unmistakable. He pulled out, still jerking himself, and painted my facewith the last ropes of his release.

Then, gently, he wiped the cum from my face feeding it to me, pushed his fingers into my mouth, and whispered, “Swallow.”

I did.

“Good girl,” he said.

We were quiet as I dressed and we left the bathroom. He offered me a ride home, and I nodded. In the car, he was in a strangely good mood—relaxed, even playful. I guess I was too.

As we pulled up to my place, I asked him to drop me off around back. He stepped out with me, pulled my face down for a kiss, and as he did, he slipped his hand down the front of my pants, and slipping his middle finger in. Then he brought it to my mouth and I sucked them clean without hesitation.

“Good Girl” he grinned. I blushed.

“When I see you again,” he said, “you better be wearing a bra and panties.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

And I meant it.