Meeting at a Bar

Ian is a beautiful young trans man who lives in the city. He has long, voluminous hair and a snatched waist. His ass has some jiggle and he wears the cutest of clothes. Usually, he likes to go to the local bar to hang out with his friends and play pool.

At the bar he meets Mark, a tall, handsome man with a thick beard and thicker arms. They quickly hit it off and Ian invites Mark back to his place.

---

It's a short walk to Ian's place, but it's cold as hell. Ian thought the thigh high socks might be warmer than just a miniskirt, but he was still fucking freezing. He's shivering by the time he unlocks the front door and the pair stumble in.

"Oh, you poor thing." Mark says, shaking off the chill. He won't admit it but the cold bothered him too. "Need help warming up?" His grin is audible in his voice.

Mark makes himself comfortable on the couch, leaning back and splaying his arms over the back. He knows his broad shoulders are on display. He leads Ian by the hand, motioning for the smaller man to sit in his lap. Ian happily obliges.

Ian is straddling him now, grinding down and feeling Mark's hardness through his jeans. Mark ruts himself up, making Ian's breath hitch. It's hot, but Ian wants more than dry humping, thanks. They kiss and move together for a bit, letting the tension build.

Mark's mouth is hungry. He devours Ian, his tongue exploring the smaller man's mouth, biting at his lips. Ian groans, not ready for this assault, but he can give as good as he can get. He grins against Mark's lips.

Mark's hands are hard on Ian's ass and hips, his fingers digging into the flesh and his thumbs drawing small circles on any exposed skin he can find. When Mark suddenly gives Ian's ass a smack, he makes a pathetic yelp. Mark laughs at the sound.

"That's cute." Mark says, his voice is low. His hand glides up Ian's back and comes to rest on the back of the smaller man's head, tangling into a fist in his hair. Ian winces at the sensation, but grins.

"You're cute." Ian says, leaning in to kiss him again. He's surprised to be stopped by the solid hand in his hair. Mark's grip is like iron and Ian isn't going anywhere.

Mark brings his other hand up to wrap around Ian's neck, applying just a little pressure to the sides. Ian's breath hitches and he can hear his heart beating in his ears. Mark slides a hand up to rest on Ian's cheek. Ian closes his eyes, practically panting. Mark's hand is warm, comforting.

SMACK

Ian hears it right after he feels the impact, and it leaves him with a burning sting on the side of his face. Mark had slapped him. Hard. Ian lets his eyes slip shut as he hums his approval. Mark seems pleasantly surprised.

"You like this, huh? Slut?" Mark's tone is mocking but he can't hide the breathiness in his voice. He likes this reaction from Ian. He likes when these boys can play.

"On your knees." Mark's voice is a command if Ian ever heard one, and he scrambles to obey. Rocking his hips hungrily against Mark's one last time before he gets up.

Ian gracefully slips down between Mark's thighs, quickly undoing the larger man's belt and fly. Mark gets a hand back in Ian's hair, regaining his grip.

"Hands down. Behind your back." Mark's words come as soon as Ian frees his cock.

Ian pauses, unsure if he is going to follow this order. Mark yanks Ian's head back at the hesitation, bringing Ian's face close to his own. Their noses practically touch.

"Behind your back. Now."

Ian doesn't break the eye contact as he folds his arms behind his back. Mark leans back, satisfied.

"Open your mouth." Mark's words are final. Ian complies, turning his attention towards Mark's cock.

A strong hand under his jaw pulls Ian's gaze back upwards, his brow knitting in confusion. Mark's expression is neutral, but there is a intrigue in his eyes.

"Look at me." Mark is studying him now, taking in each individual feature. Mark brings his hand up to Ian's cheek, already pink from the hit before. Mark slaps him again, softer this time, more playful, but still several hits in succession. Ian winces with each connection, vision swimming. When it's over he finds himself looking up at Mark, whose eyes glint with amusement.

"Is that all you've got, pretty boy?" Ian asks, grinning, wondering how much trouble he could get himself into. Mark's eyes flash, his free hand slapping over Ian's mouth. Ian's head now bracketed in Mark's strong arms.

"Shhh." Mark's voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. Ian freezes to listen. "You want to be a good boy, yeah? Do as I say? Keep your fucking mouth shut? Hmm?" Mark keeps Ian's gaze, waiting for Ian to nod. Ian does because yeah, he can be good, if it means he gets what he wants. Mark releases his grip over Ian's mouth, settling his hand loosely around Ian's throat. Ian takes a few deep breaths, suddenly realizing how dizzy he felt.

"Open your mouth." Mark's voice commands once again, Ian complies instantly. After that is a rapid series of events: Mark spits in his mouth and slaps Ian's face hard, the smaller man wincing at the sensation, but not having a chance to react before Mark's cock is in his mouth and reaching the back of his throat. Ian chokes for a second in surprise.

"C'mon, dear, relax..." Mark teases, one hand like a vice in Ian's hair, the other controlling his jaw. Ian tries to adjust as Mark begins to pick up a rhythm, fucking Ian's mouth. He hammers the back of Ian's throat and Ian chokes again.

Mark laughs as he lets Ian gasp for air for a moment. Relishing in the drool dripping off the smaller man's chin, before forcing his cock back in. This time he works Ian's head down as far as he can go. Forcing his cock down his throat and past his gag reflex.

"Do you like this, slut? My cock all the way down?" Mark asks, wrenching Ian's head side to side by his hair. Ian's nose is pressed to Mark's belly. "Tell me. Beg me to fuck your throat."

Mark releases his hands from Ian's head. Ian leans back, gasping for air.

"Please, fuck my throat." His voice is rough and dripping with desperation. Ian's face flushes with embarrassment.

Mark raises an eyebrow. "Please, Sir." He corrects, bringing a hand to the hard cock bouncing in Ian's face. Ian rolls his eyes.

'I deserved that one.' Ian thinks as he feels the slap sting across his face. He opens his mouth to say something annoying, but Mark cuts him off.

"You should choose your next words very carefully." Mark warns. Ian pauses, weighing his options.

"Please, Sir, please fuck my throat." He finally breathes out, face flushed. Mark hums.

"See, isn't it easier when you do what you're told?" Mark says as he gathers Ian's hair behind his head. Ian grunts his agreement just before his mouth is occupied once again.

True to his word, Mark fucks Ian's throat deep. Sometimes holding him down until he chokes, tears and spit dripping down Ian's face and down the base of Mark's cock. Ian gags and gasps for air in the brief moments he can, but he doesn't stop. Mark is impressed.

"Good boy!" Mark praises still working his cock in Ian's mouth, "You're a fucking filthy thing, aren't you? Does this get you off?"

He pushes Ian backwards, reaching a hand up Ian's skirt and between his thighs. First Mark laughs, Ian isn't wearing underwear, then he groans when he feels how soaking wet Ian is.

"You're disgusting, you love this." Mark sounds incredulous as he brings his free hand back up to Ian's throat. His other hand quickly working fingers into Ian's cunt.

"Ride my fingers, slut." Mark's words spur Ian into action. His breath hitches at the command, and he eagerly complies, working his hips in circles and chasing the pleasure. Mark's fingers feel good and Ian wants more.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." Ian is babbling, not sure what to say but wanting to do well. He'd say anything if it meant getting more of Mark's hands. Mark's grip on Ian's throat tightens.

"F- Fuck." Ian mumbles. This is intoxicating.

"I told you to shut the fuck up." Mark hisses. Adjusting his grip on Ian's throat as he fingers his cunt, working his thumb over Ian's clit. Ian shakes and whines, but doesn't say any more.

"Turn over, slut. On all fours." Mark slaps Ian's cunt and leans back, waiting for Ian to move. He's slow at first but Ian wants to follow the orders he's been given, even if he's already out of breath.

"Good, boy. Stick your ass out for me." Mark's tone is soft, his hands gliding over Ian's back and thighs as he settles in behind him. Ian turns back when he doesn't feel Mark's cock pushing in. Mark looks at him, raising an eyebrow, one hand on his cock.

"Did you want this?" Mark asks, his tone mocking, "Did you want to get fucked?"

Ian nods his head. Yes, obviously.

"Yes, please, Sir, c'mon already." Ian groans arching his back. He's getting impatient.

Mark moves fast, grabbing a handful of Ian's hair and bringing him up to a kneeling position. Their bodies are pressed together and Mark's voice is in Ian's ear.

"Watch the attitude, bitch." Mark's words snap Ian back to the moment. "Don't get greedy."

Mark guides Ian back to the floor, pinning his shoulders down with one forearm. Mark's other hand guiding his cock to Ian's wet cunt.

"Beg me to fuck you." Mark says, his cock positioned at Ian's hole. "You want it so bad, slut? Show me how desperate you are to be fucked on the floor."

"Fuck," Ian groans, pushing his hips back as far as his pinned position will allow him. "Fuck me please, Sir. Use me however you want, Sir." Ian's eyes are closed tight and his face burns red in embarrassment, but he can't deny he wants this so fucking bad.

"I plan on it, bitch." Mark's words are sharp as he snaps his hips forward, leaning his weight on the arm keeping Ian in place. Ian can't help the sounds that bubble out of his throat. He reaches a hand between his thighs, Mark's cock feels so nice but he needs more.

"Little slut wants more?" Mark mocks, slapping Ian's hand away. Ian's arms come up to support his top half, finding purchase on the carper. Mark's hands are quickly back in Ian's hair, using his grip to pull Ian back, bouncing him on his cock.

Ian's whimpers get caught in his throat. Mark's cock splits him, and he can feel him deep in his gut. Ian knows he would be able to feel Mark's cock if he pressed hard enough on his stomach, and the thought makes him groan. Mark moves one hand to Ian's hip, then one further down to tease Ian's clit. Ian can't hear whatever sounds he's making, but he's sure they're filthy.

"Listen to you." Mark's fingers are digging hard into Ian's hip. "You're pathetic." Mark picks up the pace and focuses on finding the sounds he can wrench out of Ian's throat.

Mark reaches forward and forces two fingers into Ian's mouth.

"Get them wet, that's all you're gonna get." Mark says slowing his pace. Ian doesn't waste time, mustering whatever saliva he can.

Mark gives Ian's face a slap before bringing his wet fingers to Ian's ass, probing one inside. Ian sucks in a breath at the sensation. In a few moments Mark slides the other finger in too, feeling Ian stretch for him. Mark hasnt stopped fucking his cunt, and the feeling is driving Ian insane.

"You want my cock in your ass?" Mark gasps out, "Beg me for it, slut." He doesn't slow the pace of his hands or hips.

"Hmm...? What?" Ian's eyes are half-lidded, head swimming with the sensations. Mark's hand flies from Ian's clit to the back of his neck, forcing Ian's face and upper body hard into the floor. Mark pulls his cock from Ian's dripping cunt and Ian cries out at the loss.

"I'm fucking talking to you." Mark's voice is hissing right next to Ian's ear, impossible to miss. Ian groans.

"Beg me to fuck your ass, slut." Mark's voice is cold. Ian shivers.

"Please... fuck my ass, Sir." Ian's voice is a breathy whisper.

"Louder." Mark doesn't leave room for argument.

"Please! Sir! Fuck my ass." Ian's face is flushed and he's glad it's half hidden into the floor. He shifts his weight, trying to give Mark the best angle.

"Hold still." Mark says as he slips his cock back into Ian's cunt.

"That's not-"

"Shh." Mark fucks Ian deep, and it shuts Ian up for a moment. Then, he slips back out, positioning his slick cock at Ian's ass.

"Oh, fuck yes." Ian groans.

Mark is gentle at first, moving slowly, letting Ian adjust, but he quickly becomes impatient. Ian winces and Mark notices. He brings Ian's back to his chest, broad arms surrounding the smaller man. He fucks him harder.

"Poor thing, but I think we both know it's supposed to hurt a little bit." He grunts in Ian's ear. Ian makes a strangled whining sound and reaches down between his thighs.

"That's it, jerk yourself off while I use your ass." Mark is trying to keep his composure, but the way Ian is moaning off his cock is getting to his head.

"Disgusting, you fucking bitch." Mark uses one hand to grip Ian's throat, squeezing in a rhythm. Ian's hand works faster on his clit.

"You're going to get permission before you cum. Do you hear me?" Mark taps the side of Ian's face with his fingers, ensuring he has Ian's attention.

"Do not cum until I tell you to, slut." Mark's hand is back at Ian's throat, applying just enough pressure. Ian's expression doesn't change but he nods and lets out a grunt in agreement. He understands.

Mark wastes no time in using Ian's body. He snakes his hands onto Ian's shoulders, getting a solid grip and forcing him deeper on his cock. Ian shakes, wondering how he could possibly take more.

"You've got a nice tight ass, bitch." Mark's words hardly cut through the haze in Ian's head. Ian grunts in agreement, not really listening. Mark readjusts, laying Ian face down and covering the smaller man's body with his own. Mark's arms bracketing Ian's. Ian raises his hips, drunk on the sensation of being so very, deeply full.

"Fuck yourself on my cock." Mark orders as he stops moving. It takes Ian a second to process the words, but he quickly obliges. He needs more of Mark, now.

"C'mon, please." Ian whines, he can't get enough leverage underneath Mark and it's not nearly enough. Mark slaps him hard and resumes his brutal pace.

"You fucking worthless bitch." Mark grips Ian's hair. "Is this what you need to cum? To be treated like shit?" Mark's voice is right in Ian's ear and Ian can hear the desperation in it.

"Yes..." Ian whines. He knows it's true, he needs a mean man to put him in his place, and the thought flushes his face.

"That's why I fuck you like this, slut, because you beg me for it." Mark's grip of Ian's hair tightens, Ian yelps. "No matter how intense it gets or how much it hurts, remember you fucking begged me for it."

Mark's words are like lightning. Ian can feel himself getting close.

"Mark... Please, can I..."

Mark slams into Ian, hard.

"Cum for me, whore. Cum on my cock."

Ian sobs when he cums, his whole body tensing in waves. Mark fucks him through it, getting close himself. Ian goes boneless.

"Hey, wake up, work my cock, slut." Mark's voice is a breathy whisper as he taps Ian's face, bringing him back to the moment. Ian doesn't get to tap out yet.

"Remember who you belong to." Mark grunts as he repositions to use Ian's hole how he wants. "I fucking own you, say it."

Ian groans, overstimulated. "You- ah- you own me." He is bouncing his ass back, matching Mark's pace.

"Fuck you, slut. You're fucking mine." Mark is rambling now. "Beg me to cum. Show me you want it."

Ian feels a fire rekindle in him. Fuck, yes he wants to feel Mark cum in him. He whines and works his body hard against Mark's. His hole still clenching around Mark's length, overstimulated.

"Please, please! Please cum in me, Sir. Please, Sir." Ian wants it and he'll say anything. Promise anything. He's practically sobbing. He needs Mark to finish.

Mark groans, the way Ian trembles underneath him, the way his body writhes around his cock. It all becomes too much and he finishes hard, grinding his hips into Ian's. His fingers dig into Ian's thighs hard enough that Mark wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises in the morning.

Ian relishes in the feel of Mark tensing hard above him, delighted by the groan that gets caught in Mark's teeth. He can feel the larger man spilling deep inside him, Mark's cock pulsing. If Ian could he would have cum again.

They lay there for a moment, catching their respective breaths. Mark leans forward to place a kiss on the top of Ian's head before carefully pulling out.

They clean up and fall into an easy chatter. Eventually, Mark gathers his clothes and bids Ian goodnight, promising to text him when he gets home.

"He seems like a sweet boy." Ian thinks to himself, his phone chiming with a new text message.