He pushed the door open and the smell hit him first, sweat and cum and cheap lube. The back room was dark but not dark enough to hide what was happening. Three guys were already on their knees, heads bobbing, wet sounds filling the space. I stepped up to the first one, a bearded guy with his mouth open like he was starving. "Suck it," I told him, and he did, no hesitation, just took my cock straight down his throat in one sloppy gulp.
His tongue worked the underside while he gagged himself deeper, spit running down my balls. I grabbed his hair and fucked his face hard, the way these stories always go when men suck cock like they mean it. He moaned around the shaft, eyes watering, but he didn't pull back. When I pulled out he chased it with his tongue, licking the head clean before I shoved back in. The next guy was waiting, younger, smooth chest, already stroking his own dick while he watched.
I turned to him and said, "Open up." He did, lips stretching wide as I fed him every inch. His throat was tighter, hotter, and he made these hungry little choking noises every time I bottomed out. Spit dripped off his chin onto the floor. I could hear the other cocks getting sucked around us, the wet rhythm of mouths working dick, guys grunting and swearing under their breath. One of them came with a loud "Fuck, swallow it," and the sound made my balls tighten.
The bearded guy was still kneeling close, so I pulled out of the young one's mouth and let him lick my cock clean while the other guy took over. Two mouths on me at once, tongues sliding over each other, fighting for the head.
One sucked my balls while the other deep-throated the shaft. I held their heads and used them, switching between tight wet holes, telling them exactly how I wanted it. "Deeper. Use your fucking tongue. Don't waste a drop."
They didn't. When I was ready I pulled back just enough to paint both their faces, thick ropes landing on lips and tongues and beards. They licked it off each other like it was the only thing they wanted. Another guy stepped forward, already hard, and dropped down without a word. His mouth was eager, sloppy, the kind that makes your knees shake. He sucked like he was trying to pull the cum straight out of my balls, hands gripping my thighs while he worked.
I let him go until my cock was rock hard again, then bent him over the bench and fucked his throat from a new angle, watching the bulge move in his neck. He took it, eyes rolled back, drooling everywhere. Around us the room kept moving, more men on their knees, more stories unfolding in real time, mouths stretched, throats used, cum swallowed or spilled. One guy was on all fours getting face-fucked while another sucked him at the same time, the chain of cock and mouth never breaking.
I came down the bent guy's throat and he swallowed every pulse, then licked me clean like he was thanking me. Another cock was already waiting, hard and leaking. I grabbed it, fed it to the nearest open mouth, and watched the cycle start over. Raw, messy, exactly the way men suck cock when they stop pretending and just take it. The night went on like that, one throat after another, every story the same filthy truth: they wanted it, they begged for it, and they got it until none of us could stand anymore.
