Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
Within these pages you will find total submission, hot piss swallowed straight from the source, full scat play, shit-smeared cocks, brutal arse-fucking, and a big, hairy, experienced older man who dominates without apology.
If you’re looking for soft romance or “nice” sex, this is not the book for you.
But if you crave surrendering completely to the thick hands of a dirty, older man — a hairy, ruthless bastard who will drag you into your darkest, most forbidden fantasies…
…then get comfortable.
We’ve been waiting for you.
For you — the one already reading this with one hand wrapped around your cock.
Enjoy it. You’ve earned it.
To every man who has ever come hard imagining a filthy older pig pissing down his throat and fucking him with a dirty cock…
It was about time someone wrote it properly.
This book is for those who are not afraid to get truly dirty.
It’s yours now.
Episode 1.
You stand at the urinal, cock in hand, pissing with deep satisfaction. The thick, yellow stream jets out hard, almost forceful, hammering the porcelain with a steady, wet slap. It splatters a little, flecking the sides. The air in the bathroom is thick with the cheap tang of disinfectant and the damp, stale smell that always clings to these places.
Then the door of one of the stalls creaks open behind you — slow, deliberate. You glance up.
There he is.
A big, middle-aged bear of a man, shirtless, his massive hairy gut hanging free. Black trousers shoved down to his balls, his thick cock half-hard and heavy between his thick thighs. Your eyes lock. No shame. Just raw, instant complicity.
He drags a meaty hand slowly across that monstrous belly, fingers raking through the sweaty grey hair, then slides them lower until they wrap loosely around the base of his cock. He gives it a couple of lazy, shameless strokes.
“Want to come in with me, lad?” His voice is low, gravelly, almost a growl. “Fancy a proper fucking throat-fuck?”
Your cock is still dripping in your fist, the last warm thread of piss falling. You don’t answer with words. You shake it hard twice, tuck it away just enough, and take two steps forward.
You step inside.
He slams the door shut and throws the bolt with a sharp click.
The cubicle is tiny and stifling. His huge, hot, sweat-slick belly presses against you instantly, skin sticking to skin. He smells like older man — thick, musky sweat and warm flesh. Without another word he grabs the back of your neck with one big paw and slams his tongue down your throat.