The last Romanian days

The following days

The next day, at eight o'clock sharp, the door opened and he entered as if he already owned everything. He was wearing the same work clothes as the day before, but now he smelled even stronger because he hadn't washed them thoroughly. He looked me up and down as soon as he entered and let out a low laugh:

"Good morning, faggot. Did you sleep with my underwear on your face like I told you to? I bet you did, Spanish queer. Women can't stand my smell for a minute, and you... you came just from smelling them like a bitch."

I didn't respond. I just nodded. He already knew he had me. He started with the living room that morning. He took off his shirt after ten minutes and continued working with his torso glistening with sweat. Every time he passed by me, he would insult me:

"Today you're going to lick all the sweat I produced yesterday, pig. Every inch. And when I'm done, I'm going to piss on you so you remember who's in charge here."

At six, he gathered his tools, undressed in the bathroom, and came out again completely naked. His cock was already half-hard, swaying heavily between his legs. He pointed to the living room floor.

"Kneel down."

I got on my knees. He approached me, grabbed my hair, and pushed my face against his sweaty chest.

"Start licking, faggot. Suck my sweat. All of it."

My tongue came out on its own. I started with his pectorals: I licked the salty drops, sucked his hard nipples, went down to his marked abdomen, and put my tongue in his navel filled with accumulated sweat. He grunted with pleasure.

"Lower, bitch. Armpits now."

He raised an arm. The smell was brutal: rancid sweat from the whole day, pure male. I buried my face and licked like crazy, sucking the wet hair, swallowing every drop. Then the other arm. After that, his back: he made me turn around and lick from his shoulders to the crack of his ass. When I reached his ass, he opened my cheeks himself.

"Lick the hole, pig. Suck my Romanian ass sweat."

My tongue entered without thinking. It tasted like sweat, like male, like effort. He moaned and pressed my head against his ass.

"Fuck, you lick so well... Women never do this. You do, because you're a worker faggot slave."

When I finished licking his entire body, he stood me up, turned me around, and pushed me against the wall.

"Open your mouth, faggot."

He pissed on me again: a long, strong stream directly into my open mouth. I swallowed what I could, the rest soaked my face and hair. Then he turned me around, put me on all fours, and opened my ass.

"Now I'm going to piss inside you, bitch."

He aimed his still-hard cock at my hole and released another hot stream directly inside me. I felt the warm piss filling my intestine. It was humiliating and turned me on like an animal.

"Fuck, what a bitch's ass... drinking Romanian piss."