Tyrone, a buff black man with a commanding presence, sauntered into the dimly lit bar. His muscular physique turned heads as he made his way to the bar, exuding dominance with every step.
On the other side of the room, a skinny black boy with a hint of muscles caught Tyrone’s eye. The boy’s slender frame and shy demeanor were a stark contrast to Tyrone’s imposing figure, but something about him drew Tyrone in.
As the night went on, Tyrone found himself increasingly drawn to the skinny boy. He approached him, his deep voice rumbling through the crowded bar.
“You’ve been watching me,” Tyrone said, his eyes locked on the boy’s.
The boy nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from Tyrone’s.
“I like that,” Tyrone continued, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I like it a lot.”
Before the boy could respond, Tyrone took his hand and led him to a secluded corner of the bar. He pressed the boy against the wall, his muscular body pinning him in place.
“I want you,” Tyrone growled, his breath hot against the boy’s ear. “And I always get what I want.”
The boy shivered, his body responding to Tyrone’s dominance. He nodded, unable to find his voice.
Tyrone’s lips crashed down on the boy’s, his tongue demanding entry. The boy opened to him, moaning as Tyrone deepened the kiss.
Tyrone’s hands roamed over the boy’s body, his touch possessive and commanding. The boy responded, his own hands gripping Tyrone’s muscular arms.
“You’re mine,” Tyrone said, breaking the kiss. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” the boy whispered, his eyes shining with desire.
Tyrone’s smile was triumphant. “Good boy.”
