Welcome to the world of mansploitation fiction by M.N. Manmacker! It’s a series of linked stories involving man-on-man action in a world full of homoerotic situations, alpha males and raunchy, filthy rutting!
Welcome to the world of mansploitation fiction by M.N. Manmacker! It’s a series of linked stories involving man-on-man action in a world full of homoerotic situations, alpha males and raunchy, filthy rutting!
Content on this website includes pictures and videos that contain adult content. Written material (excerpts, etc.) may contain adult content, including offensive material, nonconsensual sex and other topics you may find objectionable. You must be at least eighteen years of age to visit this website.
Comments, questions and requests can be sent to MNManmacker@proton.me or sign up for the mailing list to keep abreast of new releases.
What does “mansploitation” mean?
À la 70s femsploitation and blaxsploitation movies, mansploitation stories emphasize masculine gender roles in ways that are sexy beyond belief!
Mansploitation stories use a floating, mobile timeline, like a classic cartoon or sitcom.
1: That means time moves forward but the characters mostly don’t — in other words, a college student character will always be a college student, even as the year changes. References and technologies will advance as well. This is a floating timeline.
2: Stories are set in various locations, characterized principally by the bar Lipsweet. For example, when Lipsweet is in Martinsburg, West Virginia, it is a rough-and-tumble strip club dominated by rednecks and hicks in the modern day. When Lipsweet is in Santa Monica, California, it is a modern-day cholo bar. When it is in Baton Rouge, it is a 1930s speakeasy , and when it is in Los Angeles, it is a beachfront bar in the 1980s. The characters will be translated to each setting but will remain mostly the same. Some storylines will unfold along different times and places. This is a mobile timeline.
3: Don’t worry too much about continuity. Some developments, mainly new characters, continue into future stories. But mostly, characters and situations reset in each new story. I try to keep character details consistent, but I have lots of oopsies (e.g., characters changing surnames, etc.). It’s a multiverse thing, deal with it.
Mansploitation stories have subtitles.
The subtitles are formatted like this: “A Lifelong Bachelors Mansploitation Novel” or “A Forceful Alphas Mansploitation Novella”.
Ultra-Raunchy: real dirty stuff, hobos, piss, rimjobs, etc
Mansploitation stories have pictures!
Most stories feature pictures, which are generated by AI. AI produces far superior images for my purposes compared to stock photo.
While images are intended to bring to mind a specific character, they don’t exactly correspond to descriptions in the book. That’s partially because AI isn’t real precise with things like ages, hairstyles and tattoos, but also it simply provides a little variety, so readers don’t feel locked in to a look that may not be their ideal. In any case, just like with stock photos, think of it as less the “actual look” of a character and more a head shot of an actor who could play that character — i.e., hair and makeup will change, they might be a little off in various ways, but they have the right attitude, atmosphere and ambiance to represent the character.
When wrestler Josh Chadwin has to shower with his college coach, he knew things would get awkward, but he didn’t know how enjoyable it could be! That’s cuz Josh is in for a wild ride of truck stop action, jock manhood and coachly bonding!
Kyle Chadwin told himself he was being silly. Coach Walker wasn’t going to do anything to him. Chadwin was being punished, but it wasn’t like a real punishment; this wasn’t prison. As he walked to that truck stop shower, it felt like prison though. Chadwin was a college wrestler. He was one of the best athletes on the team, maybe the best, or at least the most consistent at meets, and everyone knew it. He was raised to be proud and confident and to make certain everyone knew that he could hold his own. He should show leadership. He needed to make certain the younger wrestlers understood his authority. He wasn’t the team captain, but if he got past this punishment and did well, he might be team captain next year. Anyway, Chadwin had been trying to show leadership to the freshmen when some hazing got out of control. The end result was that Chadwin made one freshman wrestler run around the campus in his jockstrap. It wasn’t even really hazing, Chadwin thought, because the freshman was only doing it to be invited to an upperclassman party. But since the jockstrap exposed the freshman’s bare ass, it was treated as a “flashing incident” by the dean — women could have seen it, if there were any on campus at the time, which there weren’t, making the whole thing stupid, Chadwin thought. But he had been suspended for three weeks anyway. That suspension was up tomorrow, which was just in time for the state tournament. The dean even raced to institute the suspension so it would be over with in time for him to compete in the tournament. But Chadwin had had no way of getting to the tournament aside from the team bus, which he was prohibited from riding in because he was still under suspension. The rest of the team had gone today and were spending tonight in a motel. That was why Chadwin had had no choice but to ride in Coach Walker’s car. They had to spend one night here in a Ramwide Truck Stop along the highway. Chadwin thought that was insane — he hadn’t asked beforehand, but he assumed they were going to sleep in a motel, separate from the team because the athletic department couldn’t pay for accommodations for him while his suspension was still on. He had assumed him and Coach Walker each have a room to themselves. Now that assumption made him feel spoiled. Coach Walker said he couldn’t afford even one motel room. Chadwin could have asked his parents to pay. They probably would. But now he’d sound bratty if he said so, and it was too late anyway. The sun was going down. “Does the truck stop have… beds?” Chadwin asked. He didn’t know if that was a foolish question or not. Semis have little bedrooms behind the truck cab, don’t they? But anyway, surely not all of them did, so maybe the truck stop did have rooms to rent overnight? “No. But I don’t got the cash for a motel room, and the next one isn’t for miles anyway. All my money goes to my bitch ex-wife,” Coach Walker said with a dry chuckle, as his use of a curse word made Chadwin bristle and straighten his back. He patted Chadwin on the back. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. We’ll sleep in the car. I’ve done it before. My car’s real comfortable. My current wife makes me sleep out there at least once a month.” Chadwin felt a sense of dread but agreed. He didn’t have any choice anyway — he wasn’t about to miss the state tournament for any reason. But now they were at a Ramwide — that was a chain of truck stops known throughout the country — and Coach Walker told Chadwin to come take a shower with him. Chadwin had a much better body than Coach Walker, but he didn’t feel like it as they undressed together. Coach Walker snorted and sniffled, making noise every step of the way. He seemed ancient, though he was only middle-aged, and his darkly tanned skin was marked with scars and a few faded tattoos. He didn’t have a perfect six-pack, but he looked like he probably did back in the day. Chadwin, on the other hand, was ropy-muscled and solidly built, but without all the heft of Coach Walker’s body. Chadwin was light-skinned and six-packed, with deep dimples and not a single scar, tattoo or mark anywhere on his mostly hairless body. Chadwin thought he shouldn’t be intimidated by the older man. If anyone saw them together, they’d say Chadwin was in better shape. He had a six-pack and plenty of muscles. Girls came running. Not that Chadwin was a pervert. He was ROTC, he was ready for the Army, or maybe the Marines, he hadn’t decided. So he shouldn’t be nervous about showering with Coach Walker. He showered with his teammates and his ROTCmates. That was always awkward at first and even later. But they played around, snapped towels at each other’s asses, tried to fart on each other, competed to piss the furthest distance in the shower, talked about girls — horseplay, basically. Can’t do horseplay with a grandfather. Coach Walker might not have been a grandfather, Chadwin had no idea. But he was old enough he could be, which was weird enough. One of the Chadwin’s squadmates in the ROTC was a couple years older, and he was already out of boot camp. He said his drill sergeant came in and showered with his barrack cuz they kept getting in trouble for playing around, making a mess, squirting dandruff shampoo on each other and wasting time. He said his drill sergeant had a fat old wrinkly dick that was hard not to stare out, but they’d get shouted at for being pansies if they got caught looking at it. Which was hilarious, but now that he was changing with Coach Walker in the truck stop bathroom, Chadwin also found himself unable to look away. It was big but not freakishly huge, and Chadwin suspected Coach Walker was a show-er, not a grower. Chadwin was the opposite. His cock was nothing to sneeze at, but it wasn’t impressive until it firmed up. He gulped. Chadwin was stripped to his underwear, hesitating as Coach Walker got his socks off and then rubbed his feet with like a brush or something. Was that something old men did? Chadwin didn’t want to ask. The other old man in the shower, some mangy redneck with a mustache, he came out into the changing area then. He too was naked and had a wrinkly old-man cock, though he was only maybe thirty. Looked like a hard thirty though. “You fellers truckin’?” asked the mustachioed man. He stood there with his dingy tight-whites in one hand, scratching his balls and playing with his wet dick like he was trying to make it dry off quickly. A disquieting sensation roiled Chadwin. He opened his eyes wide. “Nossuh,” Coach Walker said. He sat down on the bench next to Chadwin, spreading his legs wide to let his cock and balls graze in the air. “We’s on the way to Richmond, for a wrestling tournament. Triple-A. This is Josh, he’s the wrestler. I’m a coach, obviously.” The man nodded. “Cool, cool, wrestlin’ is a real man sport, I do declare,” he said. He stepped into his ratty tight-whites. “Not like gymnastics.” He sneered. “Or golf.” They both chuckled, and Chadwin forced himself to do likewise. “Yeah, golf…” he muttered. Possibly neither of them noticed he said anything. “Hmm-hmmm,” Coach Walker murmured, and he wrapped one arm around Chadwin’s well-muscled side. They both sat there — Chadwin still in his underpants — as the mustachioed man dressed and headed out the door. He did seem to notice that Coach Walker and Chadwin were just sitting there, not showering or anything, but he didn’t ask why. Maybe that was normal at Ramwide Truck Stop. “You okay, Josh?” “Yes, yes, sir,” Chadwin said, as confidently as he could muster. Coach Walker’s hand stayed wrapped around his waist, gripping his ribcage firmly, as though the check how much fat there was there. None. Chadwin was aiming for a low weight class, that was why. “I’ve been following that meal plan!” Chadwin blurted out. “And doin’ the sauna like you said.” “Good, good.” Coach Walker stood up. His manhood dangled in front of Chadwin’s face, and Chadwin could smell the rank sweat of his ballsac. Or maybe that was just him. Chadwin wrinkled his nose. Coach Walker twirled his cock and thwacked it against one palm, then the other. “C’mon, let’s get our shower over with.” Chadwin forced himself not to look at Coach Walker’s cock. Chadwin tried to tell himself it was okay, and it wasn’t bigger than his. That was true, it wasn’t, or at least it was maybe only barely right now, but when they were both hard — not that they were gonna both get hard, that would be ridiculous — but when they were both hard, they’d be the same size, Chadwin was sure. Was Coach Walker getting a boner? As Chadwin finally dropped his underwear, he thought he detected a sliver of firmness in Coach Walker’s cockshaft. He assumed that they’d go immediately into the shower, but instead Coach Walker grabbed Chadwin’s dick with one hand. He held it tight, almost tight enough to hurt. Chadwin sucked in his breath, then didn’t exhale. Coach Walker’s other hand gripped Chadwin’s shoulder, then ran down his arm and to his chest. “Flex your biceps,” he said. Chadwin did so. He cock throbbed in Coach Walker’s rough hand. Coach Walker rubbed his free hand all over Chadwin’s biceps and triceps, and he tweaked each pec until they twitched and rippled. Then — much to Chadwin’s growing wide-eyed horror — Coach Walker leaned in to take a deep long sniff of Chadwin’s armpit. His nose got right in the hair too. It wasn’t a little sniff, it was a full-throttle snort, like he was hoping to inhale Chadwin’s sweat. Then he straightened up. “Why you nervous, Josh?” Coach Walker asked. He placed his hand back on Chadwin’s dick, holding onto it like a handle. He normally called him ‘Chadwin’ even when most others called him ‘Josh’. Now that they were alone at the motel, he was calling him ‘Josh’. It sounded weird coming out of his old-man mouth. “I’m not!” Chadwin blushed. He knew he sounded defensive. No one else was in the shower, so he really shouldn’t feel nervous. Only a pansy was nervous to be naked around men. A man. One man. One old man with big droopy balls. “Big handsome boy like you, I know you get girls all the time!” He laughed. His other hand dropped to Chadwin’s ass, while his right hand stayed tightly wrapped around Chadwin’s cock. Chadwin blushed. He was embarrassed though he didn’t know why. Coach Marshall — the head of the athletic department at GHU — had walked in on Chadwin plowing a nursing student in the girl’s locker room one morning. Chadwin had gotten in big trouble for that. The rest of the coaching staff kept saying that Chadwin was a real casanova and a pervert because of it, though Chadwin didn’t really think of it like that. She was his steady girlfriend, after all. Not a one-night stand. They broke up last month, but it was a serious relationship. They were both Christian. They were talking about getting married. It was close enough to marital to be acceptable in Chadwin’s eyes. “Hmmm… I know the girls love you and those dimples…” “Yeah,” Chadwin said. He bit his lip. “I mean, yeah, yes, sir, Coach Walker.” “Relax, relax, boy,” he said with a laugh. Both hands rested on Chadwin’s ass now, caressing his plump cheeks, which Chadwin was surprised to find he enjoyed. It was ticklish and awkward but pleasant. “Take a deep breath. We’s on a road trip now. I know you’re still young, you dunno what that means. On a road trip, y’know… when you’s away from home, Joshie-“ Chadwin grunted because Coach Walker was closer to him now, virtually hugging him and speaking directly in his ear. That meant his soft cock pressed limply against Chadwin’s thigh. Chadwin really hated it when anyone called him Joshie — that’s what his parents called him, and he didn’t even like it then. “Nothing counts on a road trip, son,” Coach Walker said. “What happens here, it didn’t happen. Got it?” “Uh, sir?” “That means you can say what you want. You can do whatever feels right,” he said. He grabbed Chadwin’s cock with one hand. “You can smoke that weed I know you got in your duffel bag.” He chuckled, his hot breath condensing on Chadwin’s face. “As long as you share.” “Oh…” Chadwin’s blood ran cold. Did it smell? He thought it might smell, but he double-wrapped it, then put it in a sealed container. It didn’t seem to smell. “Have you ever thought about kissing a man, son?” “No.” Chadwin’s voice trembled. “I find that difficult to believe,” he said. “I mean… I’ve thought about it. I would try it, uh, you know… if I knew anyone who…” Coach Walker planted his lips on Chadwin’s. Chadwin quivered. It was a quick, chaste kiss. “You can go wait for me in the car, son. Or you can stay here and get dirty all over again.” “Um… Okay.” Chadwin wanted to leave. He was glad to have that option. But he didn’t. No matter how much his mind told himself to walk away, he didn’t; he didn’t want to; he craved finding out what would happen next and how it would make him feel. His dick was already twitching and he was thinking about how much he needed a stiffy — he’d been single for a month, and his balls were aching. He wasn’t sure what was happening. A part of him still thought that maybe Coach Walker was just messing with him. But nevertheless, Chadwin’s body apparently found it to get hard. His cock tingled and thrummed. He desperately wanted to blow his wad. He couldn’t think about anything else but Coach Walker’s hand encircling his cock. He wasn’t stroking it, just holding on for now. “I’m glad you stayed, son. A lotta college boys is too scared to shower with me.” He flopped his dick between his fingers and hit Chadwin’s cock with it. Chadwin had a big slab of meat when it was hard — not as big as Coach Walker’s — but he felt small right now. “You scared this is gonna feel so good you forget about girls, huh?” “Uh-“ “That won’t happen.” He smiled. “You wanna jack me off?” “Uh, no…” He frowned. “Fine. You don’t got to. You wanna taste my dick?” “Uh, no…” “You want me to ram you in the ass?” “No!” He laughed like he knew what the answer to that last one would be, he was just messing with Chadwin. He chuckled and shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “Remember, once we leave this truck stop, none of this happened.” “Yeah.” Chadwin’s voice was weak and wavering. “Yes, sir.” Then, without another word of warning, Coach Walker dropped to his knees and popped Chadwin’s cock in his mouth. He smiled and looked up at Chadwin, who gasped. A shiver of pleasure ran up and down Chadwin’s spine. He groaned and grunted. Coach Walker’s mouth was warm and moist, and it sent tingles of intense sensations to wrack Chadwin’s body. Coach Walker ran his tongue up and down the shaft, making eye contact with Chadwin, who stood on his toes and held his breath. “That feel good?” Chadwin nodded. He didn’t know why, since it was awkward for him, not pleasurable. He had never been with a man at all. He had never even let a man touch his dick outside of some wrestling team horseplay — and once he stuck his cock in a gloryhole to let a woman suck him off, but another wrestler on his team Wesley said afterwards that it was a man in there. His cock throbbed, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Chadwin gasped. It felt good, in a way. Chadwin’s mind reeled as Coach Walker started really slurping on it, slathering spit up and down his shaft, using his mouth and both hands on it. Chadwin wondered if he was even going to be able to get hard. It felt like a blowjob from a girl, he thought, but somehow more distant, less real. That lasted only until he managed to take a deep breath and relax a little though. When his eyes were closed, he could almost forget he was with a man. The longer this lasted, the more he felt pleasure instead of awkwardity. Finally his dick was hard. He hadn’t even felt it stiffen up, but it was as hard as steel now. Coach Walker was a hefty man who could swallow the whole thing, nuzzling Chadwin deep until his nose was nestled in his kinky pubic hairs. He had a cavernous mouth. He was big enough that he had to stoop over to take Chadwin in his throat. This wasn’t the first time Coach Walker had gotten a taste of one of his wrestlers. He had been able to tell that Chadwin would be willing from just a few days after the season began — he had discovered one easy way to tell which jocks would be willing and which wouldn’t: they fucked ugly girls, or at least fat girls. Chadwin was a handsome, popular, dimpled young man with a nice body; he could have, and did, get laid nearly every weekend, Coach Walker was pretty sure, and his locker room banter had made it clear he didn’t mind fucking large girls, ugly or unpopular girls, or girls he simply didn’t like. Coach Walker had long determined that those athletes who fucked girls despite their appearance would also be willing to be jerked off by a man, even if they didn’t know it yet. He savored the clean, salty flavor of the precum flowing from Chadwin’s cocktip. Or maybe Chadwin wasn’t like that, he’d often said he was Christian. Maybe he was just pretending in that locker-room talk. It wasn’t cool to be prudish nowadays. He looked up at Chadwin and smiled around the cock in his throat. Chadwin’s eyes were closed — scrunched shut tightly — and his face was tense. Chadwin twisted and writhed, hands flailing because he had briefly touched Coach Walker’s head only to be reminded he wasn’t with a woman. Coach Walker’s bald head (shaved, but you could tell he was naturally balding) felt distinctly masculine beneath Chadwin’s fingertips. So his hands hovered in the air instead. As he felt Chadwin’s orgasm rising, Coach Walker tried to make him grab his head. He didn’t say anything because he knew his deep, gravelly voice would make Chadwin uncomfortable again. But he guided Chadwin’s hand to his scalp. Chadwin gripped him for only a moment, rammed his throat like a tender womanhood and he was a rampaging viking, until his cock filled up Coach Walker’s neck and throbbed in his throat. Walker sputtered and gagged despite himself, letting out a moan in his baritone voice. His beard hairs scratched at the base of Chadwin’s dick, again reminding him he was with a man. He let go of his coach’s head, opening his eyes again just in time to meet his coach’s gaze. Chadwin gasped, unable to look away or close his eyes as an orgasm coursed through his veins. He blushed intensely and cried out. Coach Walker grabbed Chadwin’s ass to make him throat him that way, using his gullet like a pussy, and he got that entire pulsating dick back in his throat just seconds before Chadwin filled him up. Creamy hot cum sprayed down Coach Walker’s throat, coating him in his sticky juices. He could feel it trickling through his flesh and spreading through his veins. Coach Walker moaned as he shot his own wad on the floor. Chadwin didn’t notice that. That’s cuz Chadwin’s young-man orgasm was intense and lasted a whole minute or two, maybe three. He lost his inhibitions and, in that moment, he really plowed Coach Walker’s mouth. His balls slapped over and over on his chin. And still more jizz spurted out. It coated every inch of Coach Walker’s mouth and belly, and it collected hotly in his stomach. It was thick and creamy like alfredo sauce and just as savory. The taste was bright and sunny, salty, warm, delicious in every way, and Coach Walker tried his hardest to swallow it all. That proved impossible, as he was already starved for oxygen when it began. As Chadwin came buckets, Coach Walker choked up his cock, just in time for the last and thickest of Chadwin’s jizzoms to jet out over Coach Walker’s face. It coated him from his forehead to his chin in hot creamy goodness., and Chadwin’s hands firmly gripped him by the ear as though still throating him down, but his cock was roping out over Coach Walker’s face, so Chadwin could only hump his erection atop the creamy soup of jizz he’d made covering his head. Then Chadwin took one small step away, and his cock slid off Coach Walker’s face. Slurping up what cum he could get to, Coach Walker kissed his way up Chadwin’s body, licking all of that cum off and teasingly taking the shower water off his body too. Chadwin’s wrestling-toned muscles throbbed beneath his tongue. He sucked on both nipples, and again, his beard hairs scratched at Chadwin’s skin, reminding Chadwin he wasn’t with a woman. Chadwin pulled away before Coach Walker could kiss him on the lips. Coach Walker cursed himself. He should have shaved first, he thought. Always shave first, I’ve learned that lesson before. But he pulled off Chadwin’s cock, now that it was clear he was uncomfortable with this once more. He smeared up the jizz drying on his face so he could slurp it off his hand, while his other hand teased out every drop of cum from Chadwin’s rapidly limpening dickshaft. When both men were done, Coach Walker stood. He sighed and placed one hand on Chadwin’s shoulder. “How was that, son? That’s how things go on road trips.” Chadwin blushed and smiled nervously. “I guess that was… okay… I mean…” “If we shower together on the way home, I’m gonna do that again. So you can signal yo’ okayness by either showering wit’ me again or not. You got a couple days to think about it.” He turned around and finally trooped into the shower, leaving Chadwin there to regain his breath. A lot of times there were other men in a Ramwide Truck Stop, sometimes many. The showers were a social affair in these kinds of places, and Coach Walker enjoyed that aspect of them, the camaraderie, the brotherhood, the manly bodies… In fact, if he weren’t with Chadwin, Coach Walker would have played around with that mustachioed man who was there to begin with. Oh well, he thought as he turned on a showerhead and let the water wash him clean. There was always next time, so long as Chadwin chose to shower with him on the return trip. He sensed the answer was yes. Coach Walker vigorously soaped himself up and washed his armpits — he’d loved the smell and taste of Chadwin’s armpits. They had a fragrantly masculine aroma that got his dick hard, and he was going to smell even better after the wrestling tournament. They always did. By the time he was ready to join Coach Walker in his shower, Chadwin had already decided to do it. As long as it was on a road trip, he thought, he wouldn’t have to tell anyone and it wouldn’t count. And he couldn’t wait to learn what else Coach Walker had in store for him.
Desmond is in for an adventure in urban machismo, downlow action and hot, throbbing black men! That’s cuz Desmond is back at his old haunts, servicing the ghetto thugs and alphas of the Bullmass Park basketball court. That’s where the city’s toughest, strongest men hang out and where Desmond services their every alpha male need!
Cullen’s the only whiteboy in the Cityside Barbershop of Lawndale, which means he’s in for a wild ride. That’s cuz every brothah from the hood swings on the downlow at the barbershop, giving Cullen his choice in alpha male manmeat!
Cullen knew working at a Cityside Barbershop would be difficult. He didn’t fit in here. The Cityside Barbershop was for black men to get their hair cut. It was an unspoken rule as rigid as any law. There was a different barbershop right down the street, a well-lit place where the barbers were Italian. That was where white people went. But they weren’t hiring, and Cullen needed a job now. He had applied thinking it wouldn’t go anywhere, but now here he was, starting his first day at a Cityside Barbershop. He didn’t even think they hired white people. Now that he thought about it, that didn’t make sense and probably wouldn’t have been legal. He was going to be the token white guy, he figured, he could handle that. Then, on his first day, Cullen was almost totally ignored, except for the suspicious glances. He only cut two people’s hair that first day. He barely made a dime in tips. It wasn’t until his second day, near the end of the afternoon, before he had a real conversation with anyone there. Cullen sat in his chair playing on his phone. He had resigned himself to not getting any more clients today, since it was only a few minutes before closing time. He deliberately made his workstation messy because he thought it would be embarrassing if he was ready to go literally the moment the clock ticked over. Four minutes before close, a man named Lamont Caddie sauntered in. Everybody knew him, everyone except Cullen. Lamont was a grizzled, deep-dimpled homeboy who carried a dour expression on his face and short braids on his head. Cullen stood up and smiled at him. “Hey, I can take you in my chair.” Cullen blushed, he hadn’t meant for that to sound like a seduction. “If you need your braids-?” Lamont scoffed. “What?” “Uh-“ “You a barber here?” Cullen nodded. Lamont scoffed again. “What? They hire white guys now?” He laughed to himself. He touched his short braids — no need for any attention right now. Lamont looked around the barbershop. “Nah, whiteman. I do not want a haircut. I don’t let white folk touch my hair. I ain’t here for a haircut anyway.” He made eye contact with one of the other barbers, Skelton, who nodded at him. They went into the backroom, Was Skelton jacking him off? The Cityside Barbershop had a reputation as a place for men to swing on the downlow. But Skelton was an alpha male and an ex-con. It seemed unlikely he was on the downlow with the thickbody Lamont. That was something Cullen enjoyed, so he was annoyed if Skelton did it — the one bright part of working at a Cityside Barbershop was getting to service all the alpha males who come through. Cullen was prettier and more feminine than Skelton, he thought with a jealous bite, so why would Lamont want Skelton over him? He frowned at the door to the backroom. They came back upfront after only two minutes, which was quicker than Cullen thought plausible. It was only when Skelton walked past Cullen’s chair and he caught a fruity whiff of unsmoked marijuana that Cullen realized what this was —that was a drug deal. That made him feel better about being excluded. “Thanks, nigga,” Skelton said. Lamont snorted. “I-” He stopped because the front door opened and the owner, Johnny Cee, strode in. Lamont stopped short. Johnny Cee glared at him. He was broad-shouldered and powerful, with a mustache that made Cullen drool. But he was both straight and married, and he didn’t seem like the type to fool around. “Lamont.” Johnny Cee grunted. He was stern, strict, no-nonsense. It was clear he disliked Lamont and seemed to be aware of why he had come here, or at least he suspected it. Lamont had short braids, so he couldn’t pretend he had come in for a haircut. Johnny Cee stared him down. “I know you didn’t come in here to sling drugs, Lamont.” “No, I ain’t.” Johnny Cee looked from barber to barber. They all avoided eye contact with him. Skelton cleaned up his station. He was nonchalant, as though this had nothing to do with him. He slipped a baggie of weed into the drawer of his workstation, his legerdemain ensuring only Cullen noticed because only Cullen was watching Skelton. He glanced up to be sure Johnny Cee hadn’t noticed. But the big man with the bull mustache stared into Lamont’s eyes, while Lamont pretended nothing was happening. “So why did you come in here?” Lamont smiled and touched his hair on his scalp, he scratched it absent-mindedly, though it was obvious he was lightbulbing up an excuse to be here. “Oh, you know…” He sniffled. “I was just…” “He wanted to try out the new boy’s mouth,” Skelton blurted out with a mischievous grin, aimed at Lamont. Lamont shot him an annoyed look. Skelton snickered. “Oh? Is that true, Lamont?” Lamont nodded. “Yep. I just…” He rolled his eyes like he didn’t want to say anything else, but then he added, “y’know… I like’, y’know… I like gettin’ dome. I do that shit all the time, man. ‘Specially whiteboys. I love that.” Johnny Cee looked dubious. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well…?” “Fine.” Lamont snarled. He grabbed Cullen by the wrist and dragged him into the backroom. Cullen stumbled after him. This had all happened so fast, and Cullen didn’t know the people very well, that he only realized what was going on when he got to the back room. Once the door slammed shut behind him, Lamont feinted as though he was going to knock the door down and attack Johnny Cee on the other side. “He’s such a cock, man. You wanna jerk me off fo’ real?” “Uh, yeah, sure,” Cullen said. He sunk to his knees, fingers sliding up Lamont’s sagging jeans to his crotch. He had a big bulge, very nearly visible because his pants were so low that the bulge of his cockroot was visible through his drawers, not his jeans. Lamont grunted to cover up his sudden flood of anxiety. He had never done it quite like this — he’d gotten dome from men when he was drunk and as part of a group sex thing also involving at least one girl. He had never soberly stood there and let a man go to town on him, so he wasn’t entirely sure what to do or where to put his hands. If it was a girl, he would say sweet and romantic things in this sort of situation. So he didn’t say anything. He just gripped the wall to his side and held on for support, while Cullen pulled his dick out and swallowed it down. At first it was just warm and wet and not very appealing. Lamont wondered if he was going to have to tell Cullen he didn’t want to go through with it. That would be embarrassing, he thought. But then his cock firmed up in Cullen’s mouth, and that warm wetness turned into a deep and abiding sense of pleasure. Soon his dick was rock-hard and throbbing on Cullen’s tongue, and Lamont had to bite back a moan. “Ah, shit man, I’m glad Johnny Cee showed up after all,” Lamont said with a chuckle. He leaned against the wall, looking down for the first time since this had started. He watched his cock disappear down Cullen’s throat. He deep-throated better than any girl Lamont had ever been with, a fact that Lamont found alarming and that he would never share with anyone. He grunted and gripped Cullen’s head. Since he had been holding his shirt up, once he let go to hold onto Cullen by the scalp, his shirt-tail landed on Cullen’s head. Cullen buried his face in Lamont’s hairy crotch, while Lamont held onto his scalp and plowed his throat good. See, now, this is nice, Lamont thought, girls never wanted to get throated. He relentlessly pounded away, forcing his cock all the way in with each thrust of his hips. When his orgasm finally erupted within him, Lamont moaned loud enough to spark a torrent of laughter from the frontroom. “Ooh-ooh!” “They’s bakin’ a black-and-white cookie back there!” “Ooh, Cullen I love how your huge white cock feels in my ass!” They were all teasing him now. Obviously, Cullen thought as he savored the zesty musk of Lamont’s cock, Lamont didn’t normally do this. They thought it was hilarious he was doing it now. Cum sprayed down Cullen’s throat. He loved the taste of jizz, and Lamont’s was especially nice. It was salty and sweet and fruity, and Cullen guzzled down every drop. Fat bursts of it coated Cullen’s mouth. It kept on going, long after Cullen thought a normal man would have shot his wad. He spewed so much it filled Cullen’s belly, coating his insides, Lamont’s body-warmth seeping throughout him. He shot so much it dripped down his thigh into a puddle on the floor of the barbershop backroom. “Hell yeah…” Lamont groaned. He gripped the wall behind himself as he finished. His cock slowly limpened in Cullen’s mouth. He looked on at Cullen with wide-eyed amazement. “I ain’t never got no dome like that.” “Thanks for the dick,” Cullen said with a giggle as he wiped his mouth off. “I’d like to buy some weed too.”
Cullen showed up early one morning. He was there before opening, and he used his key for the first time to get into the barbershop. It was nice to be there alone. He was beginning to feel at home here — it had been three weeks since he started — and it was good to be here with no one else. He could look around and see things without wondering who was watching him. There wasn’t a lot to look at, it was just nice to see it in this liminal, unfiltered way, like seeing a supermodel in her granny panties sans makeup. He sighed and sat down on his barber’s chair. He was starting to get some customers. He had cut a couple of peoples’ hair — mostly children and elderly — and hadn’t made any mistakes, so he now had a reputation for being at least passable as a barber. Realistically though, he was never going to be seen as an equal of the other barbers here. He was going to have to accept that. There was a noise in the back. A mouse? That was what Cullen assumed. He went back there to see it. At his last barbershop, a mischief of mice had gotten into the barbicide, then died in the walls, resulting in a horrific smell that took months to resolve. So he thought it would be good if he could find the mice first and tell Johnny Cee. He wanted to seem proactive and useful to the business. A lot of these small businessmen owned a bunch of projects, so maybe, Cullen thought, he could transfer somewhere a white worker was more commonplace. When he went into the backroom to check, however, there was no mouse. There was a naked man named Dumphry, who gasped and furrowed his brow at Cullen. For a brief moment, Dumphry considered snapping Cullen’s neck. Cullen would never in his life learn how close he came to dying right then and there. Dumphry didn’t do it because — aside from all the moral considerations — he couldn’t get rid of the body. There was no way to sneak an entire corpse out of this building without being seen by dozens of people. So Dumphry just snarled and duked up. Dumphry was a thug fresh out of lockup. He was scared he’d get in trouble because he wasn’t allowed to be homeless — he only got parole because he supposedly had a job and a place to live, but Johnny Cee had only given him the job (which involved menacing and intimidating Johnny Cee’s business rivals and was paid entirely under-the-table). He didn’t cover his cock with his hand. If he hadn’t been so utterly surprised by Cullen’s arrival, Dumphry would have, but by the time he realized Cullen was standing right there, his cock was already swinging in the scene. He wasn’t ashamed of it. Covering himself up with a hand at this point would make him look weak, he thought, so he stood there puffing out his chest and trying to look like he had meant to be caught naked in here. “Oh. Who are you?” Cullen bit his lip. He blushed, heart racing. Was he not supposed to be here this early? No one had said not to, and they gave him a key so he could get in. “I’m Dumphry. Who are you?” “I’m Cullen. I work here,” Cullen said. He knew he should be firm with this man, to tell him to leave and make sure he does it. He assumed Dumphry was homeless and that he had snuck in here to sleep. But Cullen was also mesmerized by Dumphry’s prison-toned body and his massive dick dangling between his legs. “Oh.” “You, uh… You’re not allowed to be here,” Cullen said. He sounded so weak he blushed. He should just leave, he thought, go call Johnny Cee and let him handle this. But he was still entranced by Dumphry’s body. Cullen couldn’t help but giggle demurely. Dumphry grunted. He didn’t think he was supposed to let on that he lived here. Johnny Cee made him keep most of his things in the locked closet during the day, when Dumphry was gone — Johnny Cee kept him busy doing errands all day, and then he spent most of his evenings flanking Johnny Cee or beating people up at his command. His fists were bloody still from beating up one young man last night. “Don’t tell no one I sleep here,” Dumphry said. “I just got outta the joint, man, I need a place to live.” “So you’re squatting here?” Dumphry nodded his head. When he was in prison, he kept telling himself he wouldn’t be trashy when he came out. He was off drugs now, and he didn’t even drink. He shouldn’t be squatting, living in a closet, working every day to afford enough food to eat. “Oh. Well you can’t stay.” Click grumbled. “I’ll ram ya, boy,” he said. “What?” “If you don’t tell no one, I’ll ram ya butthole, boy,” Dumphry said. Cullen’s heart raced. He couldn’t believe this. A part of him, the rational part of his mind, said to refuse it, but that wasn’t the part of him that was in control. His dick rocketed to attention even before Dumphry got to him and shoved him to his knees. He rammed his cock into Cullen’s throat as though he needed to get it in before Cullen changed his mind. He had a big dick that stank of his sweat and a little of blood from the punishment he had doled out last night. It was warm and salty and soft, then it almost immediately twitched and perked up in Cullen’s mouth. It all happened very fast. Cullen opened his mouth to savor that manly flavor, but Dumphry didn’t really give him any opportunity to do that. He just pistoned his hips, forcing his dick into Cullen’s throat. It pulsated, filling him up and making him gag over and over as he struggled to swallow it. Dumphry hurried through the dome — his dick was too big to be really swallowable, so he never let that continue for too long; no one could get even half of it in their throat. So he just got his dick wet until it was hard, and then he grabbed Cullen by the hair. “C’mon, man, bend over,” Dumphry growled. He forcibly put Cullen in position. Cullen was limp by then, a little scared and more than a bit aroused. He loved Dumphry’s powerful muscles dragging him into position. In the chill and the darkness of the backroom, it felt like a prison cell, Cullen thought, like he was making love with his cellmate. Pain hit him when Dumphry began to ram his dick in Cullen’s ass. It was just the tip at first, but it tore Cullen open. Dumphry’s dick was thick and long and he stuck it in without mercy. One of his hand’s held Cullen’s ass in position, while his other kept Cullen’s head down. “Spread yo’ cheeks, boi, that’s how we do it around here,” Dumphry said. He grabbed Cullen’s hands and made him do so. Cullen struggled to remain bent over while spreading his asscheeks. The pain slowly melted away into an intense, mind-melting pleasure. Cullen moaned again and again, as the sensations roiling his body gradually increased to a wild crescendo. The free-standing stack of shelves next to Cullen’s head creaked as they repeatedly bumped into it, knocking boxes of doo rags onto the floor. “Here ya go, whiteboi, you got this right,” Dumphry said, his guttural voice low and slow like he gargled with black coffee, as the last bit of his dick slid into Cullen. He aimed his voice directly at the back of Cullen’s head. “Ah, god, yes, ram it in me!” Cullen said over and over as Dumphry slammed into him. Cullen had no idea how long that lasted. By the time it was done, he heard people in the frontroom getting ready to open, but luckily it seemed none of them heard him. Cullen moaned and spasmed, falling flat on the ground. Dumphry went to the floor with him, his whole body flexing. Sweat covered his muscles and coated Cullen’s back. He snorted into Cullen’s ear. Cum flowed into Cullen’s ass, so much of it that it leaked out and spilled down his thighs. It puddled onto the floor. The sensation was intense, and it made Cullen moan loudly — finally people in the frontroom heard it, and assumed that Cullen had simply found a client early. Cullen heard them laughing and blushed, still mid-orgasm. At last it was over, and Dumphry pulled out. He grunted and snorted as he cleaned his dick. Cullen sighed, squirming on the floor while his ass recovered from that mighty pounding. He was exhausted, covered in both his own sweat and Dumphry’s. “So what’choo think?” Dumphry asked. “Can I stay here or what?” Cullen nodded. “Hell yeah. You can consider your rent paid.” He just hoped Johnny Cee wouldn’t find out.
“I understand that you met Dumphry,” Johnny Cee said. He had called Cullen up to his office one day. Cullen sweated and shifted his weight in his seat. Am I in trouble? He couldn’t tell. Johnny Cee was so hard to read. He sat there in his cheap suit, staring Cullen down. Today Johnny Cee was sloppy, compared to how he usually was — his tie was crooked, and he looked unshaven. He normally had a thick mustache but an otherwise smooth face. Today that bristly mustache was joined by a layer of fuzz over his chin and cheeks. “Oh. Yeah,” Cullen said. I should have told Johnny Cee about Dumphry. He’s going to be furious. Cullen gulped. “Look, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you he was sleeping here. He said he’d move on, that he’d find somewhere else to live.” Johnny Cee glared at him. “No. You should not have. I do not accept your apology.” “What?” “You ain’t livin’ in yo’ whitebread world no more, young man,” Johnny Cee said, his more formal accent suddenly disappearing. He sniffled. “We don’t squeal around here.” “So you wouldn’t want me to-?” “Nah. Don’t tell me nothin’ I don’t need to know. If I ain’t gotta know where some nigga be sleepin’, don’t tell me. I can’t get in trouble for some nigga breakin’ in to sleep e’ry night,” he said. “Oh.” “So you done good. Did Dumphry ram you right? Huh?” Cullen blushed. “Yeah.” “Good. Did he give you a reacharound?” Cullen’s eyes bulged out. “What?! No!” He couldn’t tell if Johnny Cee was joking or not. “Of course not, man.” “What? He should’ve. Why you got a face like that? Do white people not do reacharounds?” “No, I mean… Dumphry does that?” Johnny Cee scoffed. “Boy, you don’t even get it. Niggas do it different than whiteboys. It’s just a handjob, and there ain’t nothin’ better than cummin’ in some asshole while that man you is rammin” is cummin’. I love that, and I bet Dumphry love it.” “Really?” He nodded. “Man, when I was in lockup — that was a long time ago, I was a young buck then — I wouldn’t ram no bitch unless I could get him off. I take all night to make him get used to my dick in his ass so I could ram that orgasm into him. It might take hours, but it’s worth it.” Cullen nodded — was Johnny Cee serious? He seemed serious; he always seemed serious. But Cullen couldn’t imagine he really thought that way. “Oh. Well, no, he didn’t gimme a reacharound. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… It’s not a big deal. It’s okay.” There was a long awkward pause. Cullen blushed and struggled not to fidget. Johnny Cee stared at him, his dark eyes drilling into Cullen’s soul. “Okay, stand up and take off your pants,” Johnny Cee said with a sigh as though Cullen was forcing him into this. “What?” “I’m gonna do it. I can tell you got a crush on me. You have since I hired you,” Johnny Cee said. “It’s fine. My wife is makin’ me sleep in the office right now, on account of this girl I know — I don’t cheat on my wife, but I can’t stop them from talking to me, ya feel me? I can’t make ‘em not send me pics of they tits. Well, my wife won’t fuck me right now. So, y’know… I don’t wanna cheat on her.” He stood up and took off his jacket and tie. Then he glared at Cullen. “Well? Come on. Get your pants off. I got shit to do today.” “Oh. Okay.” Cullen was excited, though scared. Johnny Cee got naked quickly, tossing his suit onto the floor. He stood there and jogged in place, stretching, letting his massive cock flop around. When Cullen wasn’t fast enough, he snarled, bent Cullen over the desk and pulled his pants down. “Don’t mess around. I let my wife go slow and tease me and shit because she got a pussy, and she the mother of my child,” Johnny Cee said. “You? You I just wanna get this over with, make you stop looking at me like a piece of meat you wanna eat up.” “Can I taste your dick first?” He paused. “Fine. But you best deep-throat me, right? I’m gonna ram ya throat real good, boy. Don’t complain about it.” “Yes, sir, please ram my throat,” Cullen said. Johnny Cee wasn’t kidding. He cornholed in a formal, business-like way. When Cullen grabbed his dick to put it in his mouth, Johnny Cee stopped him. He first carefully took all of his clothes and folded them neatly on his desk. Then he drilled his dick into Cullen’s mouth. “No hands.” That was the only instruction he gave. He held Cullen in position, while Cullen’s hands flailed, and Johnny Cee rammed his dick into his throat. He tasted clean and soapy — Cullen could tell he used a coconut-flavored soap — and his dick got hard almost immediately. He drilled his dick in and out, each thrust of his hips being equal in power. He pinched Cullen’s nostrils shut to help him swallow the whole cock, making him fill his gullet with that veiny shaft. Johnny Cee showed no signs of enjoying this part of it. Cullen made eye contact with him and blushed. Johnny Cee’s face was placid and stony. He pounded Cullen’s throat as though he was obligated to do so, like there was something he needed to touch deep down there. Cullen knew he must feel good since he had gotten hard, but Johnny Cee showed no external signs of it on his face. Then he pulled out. “You may take a breath, young man,” Johnny Cee said, as though that was a major accommodation he had been reluctant to give. Cullen hoarsely gasped for air. He bent over, but again Johnny Cee forced him into a particular position — with his legs straight, folded over the desk. He even told him where to grip the edge of the desk with his fingers. “You want somethin’ to bite down on?” Johnny Cee asked. “No, sir, I want to-“ “Yeah, you do. Here.” He flopped his cock against Cullen’s ass while he put his ropy-muscled forearm in front of Cullen’s mouth. “Bite on my arm when it hurts.” He didn’t wait for Cullen to respond. He jammed his dick in, making Cullen howl and bite down on his arm. Johnny Cee didn’t respond to the bite, he just kept forcing his shaft into Cullen’s ass. Every time he felt resistance he sternly clucked his teeth, slapped Cullen’s cheeks and pushed a little harder. Finally he reached around and grabbed Cullen’s dick. Once again, he moved like a businessman, not a lover. He had made an agreement to jack Cullen off, so that was what he did. He wrapped his hand around Cullen’s cock, which was already hard, and began stroking. “Alright, yeah, there you go…” For the first time, Johnny Cee’s voice betrayed the pleasure he felt. He moaned and shuddered. He had been raised to believe it was okay to give a reacharound, but Johnny Cee would never admit he also enjoyed it. He was constantly coming up with new excuses to do it because it would be embarrassing if people knew he actually enjoyed handling men’s cocks. The thing he loved most about it, however, was making them both cum at the same time. Cullen was so aroused by Johnny Cee’s cock slamming into his prostate again and again that it was easy to coordinate them. Johnny Cee slowed down his handjob until he was on the edge of his own orgasm. And then he finished Cullen off just as he finally crossed the line into his own climax. Johnny Cee grunted and smiled. Cullen screamed as intense pleasure wracked his body. They went on like that for eons, Cullen thought, spraying his own cum over Johnny Cee’s hands. Cullen bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. The most potent orgasm of his life ripped through his body, while he shot a massive load that puddled on the floor beneath him. Cullen’s ass filled with Johnny Cee’s creamy hot cum. It was thick and sticky, and Cullen could feel it seeping into his flesh. He licked and sucked on Johnny Cee’s muscled forearm. The more that poured into him, the more Cullen needed it, the more he rubbed his face all over Johnny Cee to relieve the tension, like a stressed-out cat. He gasped and suckled on his firm skin, and he slurped up the sweat that collected there. It was tangy and warm. The heat from Johnny Cee’s body seeped into him slowly, more and more with every passing moment. Cullen wasn’t sure if he was still cumming or not. It was impossible to tell because he had shot such a huge load. Finally they were both done, utterly spent, and Cullen could do little more than gasp for air beneath him. Johnny Cee pulled out of his ass and sighed. He rested his dick on Cullen’s spasming asscrack, chuckling as Cullen squirmed underneath him. Cullen’s ass dimpled and squeezed around his shaft. “You satisfied, whiteboi? How was that?” “That was amazing, sir. I think I love this job.” Cullen giggled. He took a deep breath. “I’m so glad I work here.”
