The MisterBnB Host

Jake had never used MisterBandB before — but after a nasty divorce and too many straight-hosted AirBnB flops, he craved a space made just for men. Booking Luca’s bungalow felt like breaking into a secret club: coded messages, discreet referrals, and promises of male-only hospitality. A lifelong closet case turned curious explorer, Jake wanted anonymity wrapped in muscle and ink.

He rolled into the little beachside town just before sunset — an hour he’d chosen for maximum cover of dusk — suitcase in hand and nerves jangling. His host — Luca — was waiting on the sun-warmed porch of the pink stucco bungalow. Luca’s arms were tattoo sleeves of swirling waves and koi fish that promised both danger and delight. He flashed a crooked grin.

“Welcome, Jake,” Luca said, voice low and smooth like dark honey. “Ready for your local experience?”

Jake’s heart skipped. In their emails, Luca had promised to show him hidden beaches, the best taco stand, and a secret cliff jump — classic town-tour fare. He nodded eagerly, imagining sand between his toes.

But instead of handing him a map or keys, Luca caught Jake’s gaze and smirked. “Follow me.” He turned on his heel and glided down a hall, flicking on lights that revealed no souvenirs or guidebooks — only the door to the bedroom. Inside, the bungalow smelled of citrus and cedar. Luca guided Jake through a breezy living room, past a kitchen stocked with cold beer, and down the hall to a bedroom drenched in peach light. On the nightstand, fresh towels lay folded beside a bottle of massage oil.

Luca slammed the door behind them, the lock clicking like the start of something wicked. He stalked into Jake’s personal space, nostrils flaring as he inhaled every ounce of Jake’s arousal. “Tour’s over, bitch,” Luca growled, voice dark and possessive, a promise of brutality underlined by desire.

Jake’s pulse hammered. He slid his hands under Luca’s shirt, over warm ribs, clutching tattooed skin. Luca lifted the shirt over his head in one swoop, revealing a sculpted torso rippling with muscle and dotted with a dark trail of hair leading down to a thick, half-hard cock straining against pale underwear.

Jake groaned. He fingered the waistband, and Luca helped him yank the fabric down.

Before Jake could protest, Luca’s rough callused palm crashed into his hip, yanking him hard against the door. The sudden pressure sent Jake’s asscheeks clapping together, the echo like a gunshot in his mind. Luca’s other hand seized Jake’s chin, tilting his head back until his throat was exposed and vulnerable. Jake’s pulse hammered between his legs as Luca’s thumb dragged from his jaw down to his throbbing Adam’s apple, brushing over the slick bead of moisture there.

Jake gasped, eyes wide with need, as Luca’s cock throbbed against his thigh. The head was glistening with pre, promising a pounding that would leave Jake broken and horny. “What do you want?” Luca rasped, breath hot against Jake’s neck.

A tremor shook Jake’s body. “Fuck me,” he managed, voice raspy.

Luca snarled, his grin feral. He grabbed Jake’s belt and ripped it apart, sending jeans clattering to the floor. Then, in one ruthless move, he cupped Jake’s ass with both hands, spreading the cheeks apart to expose that slick, pink hole. He pressed a single finger — coated in oil and saliva — into Jake’s rim, twisting until Jake cried out, body arching.

Luca plunged a second finger in, stretching Jake wide, then withdrew with a wet pop that echoed through the room. He stalked around to Jake’s front, yanked down Jake’s boxers, and let Jake’s soaked cock slap against his abs. Without warning, Luca lifted Jake and spun him onto the bed, face-first into rumpled sheets.

Luca’s spit-slicked cock hovered at Jake’s ass, heavy and gleaming. With a wet, hungry smack, Luca pressed the slick head against Jake’s rim and rubbed a bead of saliva around the tight circle, coating it in lust’s own lube. Then he slammed into Jake without warning, each savage thrust a dripping hammer of flesh against flesh that reverberated through Jake’s spine.

Jake’s moans morphed into guttural screams as Luca fucked him like an animal, saliva and sweat mingling where their bodies met. Luca’s hands roamed, one knuckle-deep in Jake’s gut for leverage while the other dug into his hip, thumbs gouging crescents into tender flesh. Every brutal drive pushed Luca’s balls against Jake’s prostate, mixing exquisite ache with bone-melting pleasure until Jake’s vision blurred.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Luca grunted, voice roughened with need. His breath was ragged, mixing with Jake’s rapid panting in the steamed air.

Jake’s world shrank to a single point of unbearable, slick pleasure as Luca’s cock throbbed and pumped deep inside him. Every pulse drove hot, sticky ropes of cum straight into his quivering tunnel, filling him with the bear’s guttural release. The walls of his ass clenched and fluttered around that fat, veiny shaft, squeezing it as if trying to hold on forever.

Jake’s own cock jerked wildly, spraying thick, milky ropes across the rumpled sheets in a wild, frantic orgasm that left him gasping and clutching at the mattress. His vision blurred with haze, every nerve ending set ablaze by the double-deluge of lust.

Luca grunted and tipped Jake’s spine back, then came himself in a final punishing stroke — cum pulsing hot and sticky deep inside. He collapsed onto Jake’s back, sweat and mixed fluids painting their slick bodies in a sheen of raw ecstasy. Luca’s chest rose and fell like a piston as he fought to catch his breath.

He rolled slightly, pressing a spit-lubed thumb against Jake’s twitching lips, coating them in saline slickness. “That’s your local experience,” he growled, voice thick as oil, eyes glinting with fierce satisfaction and wicked promise.

Jake’s head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded, mouth open in a breathy moan. His senses still reeling, he felt Luca shift, pressing hot flesh against his back for a brutal post-tour encore that promised even more fucked-up delight.