After arriving in the town where I opened my gift shop, I was somewhat naïve. My life had always been arranged by my older lover named Pierre.

Alas, I was considered a geriatric at the age of twenty-six and after having been dumped for a nineteen-year-old, I essentially had to recreate my new life.

Upon my arrival in my new surroundings in a small town, I had made a firm commitment never to lie about my sexual orientation. After work most days, I usually popped into the pub diagonally across the road from my business, which also happened to be my apartment block. My business was on the ground floor and my apartment, upstairs on the first floor of the complex.

In my new milieu, I made it clear to one and all that I was gay. Firstly, I just couldn’t be bothered with the unwanted attention of the female patrons, and secondly, as they say in the classics; it pays to advertise. The news of my sexual orientation spread like wildfire and I finally got used the whispers, stares, and gesturing heads in the pub. There were a few male individuals who took an enormous strain with me and they would always avoid me. I was, nevertheless, continually amused by females, seeking fashion and decorating tips from me.

As time passed, I became completely immune to these inconsequential reactions. In the words of the famous playwright, Edward Albee, ‘the small wars and major anxieties’ passed me by.

Early on during a visit to the pub, I saw Bull. From our first encounter, I thought that he must have been a very good-looking young man. Don’t get me wrong, even as a man in his late forties he was still a hot man. Bull was a big and hefty daddy with an affable nature. Somehow, however, he always seemed to arrive as I was departing.

As I would later learn, on Tuesday and Friday evenings, when he frequented the bar, his wife was otherwise engaged. From six till ten p.m. on both evenings, she was either involved in a ceramic’s class or attending a ladies book club.

***

The night after my initial encounter with Jarrod, my first lover in the town as chronicled in a former story entitled ‘Salad Dressing’, Bull was seated next to me at the pub. As I was about to leave, Bull absolutely insisted that I stay for one more drink. Comprehensively interacting with him for the first time, he questioned me about my ‘infamous’ sexuality. I ducked and dived not really wanting to enter in a full-on discussion, but he wouldn’t relent.

When I eventually left an hour or so later, as I was about to enter my apartment block I heard Bull calling after me from the other side of the road. Upon crossing the road, he asked if he could join me for a drink in my apartment. Somewhat apprehensive, I invited him in.

After entering my apartment, he glanced around hastily, before focussing on me and declaring, “I want to fuck you.”

I was completely dumbfounded by his directness.

Then, before I could even utter a word, he gripped my arm and pushed me toward the bedroom. Bull then clumsily began removing my clothing before removing his own. He moved with incredible haste and before I knew what had hit me, Bull had thrown me on the bed.

Next, pouncing on me, Bull’s weight winded me. As I gasped as his mouth swamped my lips frantically as he commenced kissing me. His tongue felt like a powerful agitator as it explored my mouth. Stunned as I was, I nevertheless was unbelievably excited by his forcefulness.

Because of his urgency, I hadn’t really got a very good look at him naked but knew that his hefty body was hairy and that his knob was rather thick. Bull’s frenzied manner was that of a sexually frustrated person, and as I would come to know, this was resultant of constant spurning by his wife sexually indifferent wife.

Bull was not into oral sex at all, but grappling turned him on immensely. I had never had really rough sex before but would soon come to love his dominating approach, and it was like being on a wrestling mat totally overwhelmed by a vastly superior opponent.

Bull had an extremely rigid fat cock, which he ground it into me ferociously. As he pinned me down while resting on his elbows and knees, his clenching butt hammered his cock into my crotch. My poor balls were mangled and mashed as I yelped submissively.

“I hope you like rough love,” he stated, with authority.

I whimpered a pathetic “Yes.”

I endured ten minutes of submitting to his frantic grinding and oral onslaught before he commanded, “Time to turn over, boy, I want to pound your pussy.”

After lifting off me onto his haunches, I quickly turned onto my stomach. Before lowering his body once more he punched and slapped my butt a couple times. The strikes weren’t very hectic, but meaningful.

Next, Bull clamped my cheeks in his hands and begun to squeeze. This was a little more intense than his prior action and I began gasping loudly.

Finally, collapsing on to me he placed his fat knob in my crack before he commenced stabbing it into my backside. As Bull’s thick cock prodded, he started to wrench my pussy open and when Bull’s pounding got into full swing, I grunted like a wounded bear. Quelling my noise, Bull then stuck four of his huge fingers into my mouth. Totally subjugated, I surrendered blissfully.

Bull now barked noisily as he thumped my arse manically, and a few minutes later he roared as he unburdened his frustrated sap into my backside.

After the ‘bout’ on my bed, we moved through to my lounge for a drink.

Having unburdened his sexual frustration he then told me about his loveless marriage. Bull said that he and his wife had become like two ships passing in the night after both their kids had left home and we’re getting on with their own lives.

When we returned to my bedroom later, although the sex was far less hectic Bull maintained his dominance. Bull had an aggressive style of kissing and he dispensed a serious battering to my lips.

Shortly, the real Bull got going again as he ordered, “Get into the fuckin doggy position.”

Positioning me at the edge of the bed, Bull instructed me to lower my arse. As my knees widened, Bull grabbed hold of my balls and started tugging.

“Squeal, boy… squeal for Bull,” he grunted as my balls were pulled up between my cheeks.

I yelped and gasped as his other hand slapped my arse very hard. My body twitched and jumped as Bull yanked and tugged.

Finally, clamping onto my hips with his big gut supported on my backside, Bull again plugged his knob back into me. As he thumped my arse his right hand moved to the front of me, again punishing my balls. Not long after, his left hand gripped hold of my hair and pulled my head back as he fucked me mercilessly.

Bull once more unloaded a few minutes later, as he pummelled my backside feverishly.

Although I had been stunned by my first encounter, I came to love his approach in time. The odd bruise that I had to endure regularly was well worth the excitement of his visits. Fully understanding his sexual predilection, I would often spur him on to greater ‘brutality,’ which we both enjoyed enormously.

Thereafter, my Tuesday and Friday evenings were taken care of. Just like his wife, Bull now also got to enjoy his own hobby.

One strange thing about him was that he always brought me sweats or chocolates when he visited. Initially, it felt like a payment of sorts, but in time I just came to regard it as a thank you gift.

My sex life was really blossoming in my new environment.