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.
Rob is in a big-box retail store when he spies a hunky redneck clerk shirking his job duties. Rob is all too eager to help out, in exchange for a chance to swing on this store clerk’s alpha male meat!
Can he handle the surprise in the Outdoor Supplies aisle?!
Read it now as an ebook!
Or read the whole thing here!
The white guy looked like he was trying to sneak a nap among the shelves. He was tall, broad-shouldered, red-necked both literally and figuratively, and he had a lean ropy-muscled body beneath the blue All-Mart apron he wore. He also had on civilian clothes: a long-sleeve camo tee and camo pants, which Rob suspected were not regulation. It was two o’clock in the morning at a twenty-four hour All-Mart. Rob had come here for beer before remembering that he was in Nebraska, where only liquor stores sold beer. He was disappointed. There was a black guy in the motel room next to him whom Rob thought he could jerk off in exchange for a few beers. But this All-Mart clerk was also an attractive target. Jacob was the name on the nametag pinned to his chest. He was young, scruff-bearded, with dark hair and eyes. He appeared to be assigned to stock some hunting vests, which he had stacked in boxes on a handcart. But he was doing it so lazily he could only be wasting time deliberately. He leaned against the shelves and closed his eyes, as though going to take a nap standing up right here in the hunting and camping aisle. “Excuse me,” Rob said. “I’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you let me jerk you off.” His bleary eyes blinked. “What?” Jacob paused. “Wait, what?” He wrapped one hand over his All-Mart apron. “I…” “Here, just a tip,” Rob said as he put a twenty-dollar bill in Jacob’s pants. He stuck it in the waist of his pants — making sure to get a feel of Jacob’s kinky pubic hair — then took Jacob’s big meaty hand in his. He got Jacob’s finger out and sucked on it, making Jacob’s eyes pop out and his face blush. Rob deep-throated his finger all the way down until he gagged. Rob grinned. “I’ll make you feel better than your girlfriend ever could. You ever cornhole a man, Jacob?” “No…” He sounded nervous. “It is dirty. It is nasty, and you will never blow a more satisfying nut,” Rob said. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to ram me in the ass. C’mon… Let me go to town all over your cock. You’ll forget about your girlfriend, you won’t remember her name.” “Felicia…” Jacob looked up and down the aisle to make sure nobody could hear this conversation. “She sounds like a bitch.” “Yeah. She kinda is.” “A thousand dollars. What would you do with a thousand dollars?” “Shit, buy a dirtbike,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “A dirtbike, that sounds fun,” Rob said. He plastered on a jovial smile. “What do you say? You don’t have to touch my dick.” He looked around. “Let’s go in the back. Hey, if this black guy named Terrell walks in, I’m making you take it cuz you’s a snitch,” he said. “Okay.” He led Rob away from the hunting gear into the backroom. There was a small hidden corner there, blocked from view by a row of boxes. It smelled vaguely like weed, and there was ash on the floor, which suggested to Rob why Jacob thought they might be interrupted — this was where the employees came to smoke weed. Jacob closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He unzipped the fly of those camo pants and let his hoggish prick flop out. It was musty and musky, and it made Rob’s dick twitch in his pants. Rob put the tip in his mouth, looking up at Jacob to gauge his reaction — Jacob was horrified, eyes open wide, tongue lolling out of his mouth — but he didn’t complain, and in fact his back stiffened up as though he was steeling his nerves. It stayed limp there at first, like Jacob was too nervous to get hard. Then Rob gurgled merrily on it, savoring the flavor, and that seemed to trigger Jacob to relax. He took a deep breath. His dick trembled and firmed up in Rob’s mouth. Jacob wrapped his hands around Rob’s head. He acted like he was going to throat down Rob — which Rob would have loved — but instead he just gingerly guided Rob’s head up and down. He licked his lips. “Damn, boy, you do that pretty good,” he said. He whispered, looking through the rows of shelves every few seconds to be sure no one was coming. It was late enough at night that Rob felt confident no one would interrupt them — there weren’t that many people even working right now to begin with, so what were the chances they would come into this little corner of the storage area? Jacob, where are you? The radio flickered into life from where it was clipped to Jacob’s pants. He sighed and bristled like he didn’t want to be interrupted. He bent down and picked up the radio. “This is my jerkoff boss,” he said. He pushed the ‘transmit’ button down. “I’m here.” Are you done with Outdoor Supplies? Jacob rolled his eyes. “No. I’m helping a customer right now. I’ll be back to finish it off in a few minutes.” The boss’ voice sounded clipped, like he was angry but didn’t want to say anything inappropriate because he thought there was a customer nearby. I appreciate your commitment to customer service. However, your current assignment is stocking in Outdoor Supplies. “Understood,” Jacob said. He made a mock military salute, as if Jerry could see through the radio. “My first commitment is to customer care, Jerry, and I take that very seriously.” “Thanks so much for your help, Jacob!” Rob called out while the button was pushed, aiming his voice towards the radio. He and Jacob smirked while waiting for the boss to answer. I’m glad you watched the training video, Jacob. Get back to Outdoor Supplies. “Yes, sir,” Jacob said into the radio. Then he made a masturbation-gesture with one hand. “Fuckin’ dickhead. I swear to God, on my last day here, I am gonna beat that pencil-necked shitface until there ain’t nothin’ left to beat.” He paused and sneered down at Rob. “I never said that, by the way. I never threatened him.” “Okay, yeah, no problem, I didn’t hear anything,” Rob said, breathless as he took a deep breath before resuming his deep-throating of Jacob’s magnificent meat. Jacob groaned. “Every time I see him I wanna rip his goddamn head off. You heard the way he was talkin’ to me. He’s always like that. Talkin’ to me like I’m a shithead and he’s a fuckin’ saint for givin’ me a job. He’s just a fucking night manager at a All-Mart. That is the smallest amount of power that has ever gone to somebody’s head.” Don’t forget to take care of the parking lot too, Jacob. You forgot last night. Jacob scoffed. “I ain’t forget,” he said out loud. “I ain’t nevuh done that, Jerry. Never will neither. He don’t even usually notice if I do it or not.” He pushed the button down on the radio again. “Thanks Jerry, I’ll do that. I can’t wait to go the extra mile to help our customers enjoy our parking lot.” I could do without the sarcasm. “Me too!” Jacob said. He kept his eyes aimed down at his cock disappearing in Rob’s throat, and he shuddered as a frisson of pleasure ran up his spine. Jacob… “Thanks so much for your direction and management, Jerry. Your customer-centric philosophy and stick-to-it-iveness is really an inspiration to me. You’re like a father to me. Can you explain where babies come from?” Jacob chuckled, making his entire muscular body shift and his cock twitch in Rob’s mouth. Jacob was getting excited now, as his erection sent a wave of adrenaline through his body. Jacob! “Will you be my mentor? Heal my troubled soul with the power of customer service!” Jacob, do I need to come over there? “I’m with a customer right now, Jerry, giving a hundred and ten percent to make his shopping experience a safe and efficient one,” Jacob said. “Also, I’m respecting diversity.” Rob nodded, mollywopping himself with Jacob’s cock. “That’s so important.” Holding the radio in his hand for another minute or two, Jacob watched his dick slide in and out of Rob’s mouth. Soon it was clear that Jerry wasn’t going to respond. He had given up. Jacob scoffed and put the radio back on his belt. “They always make it seem like the radio is a good thing. You have to earn having a radio. But they don’t pay you any more for it, and it just means they get to keep radioing you to tell you to do stuff.” “Uh-huh,” Rob said. He held onto Jacob’s dick and licked the shaft from tip to root. That made Jacob shudder and moan, and Rob could see the exquisite sensations wracking his body and making his taut muscles ripple. As precum flooded Rob’s mouth, he gurgled and suckled loudly. He wanted to make Jacob a little uncomfortable, and that’s what the noise did — Jacob kept looking this way and that to be sure no one was coming. Then a bolt of bliss shot up Jacob’s spine, and his face screwed up. He grunted and looked shocked. He gripped Rob’s ears and held on tight. He began grinding his dick down deep into Rob’s throat. He threw his head back and licked his lips. It looked like he had possibly never received dome that felt this good. His neck was already ruddy to begin with, but as he got more aroused it turned scarlet like a cooked cranberry. “God-damn boy, I am gonna ride ya face like a buckin’ bronco,” he said with a deep, throaty chuckle. He yee-hawed and whooped, slapping his own thighs and making his meaty muscle tremble. He fed his dick down Rob’s throat, ignoring the resistance he felt. “Relax ya throat, boy. Relax it.” He rubbed Rob’s neck, caressing it gently. Rob couldn’t breathe. He loved the taste of redneck cock, and he enjoyed watching Jacob plow his throat too. It was so hot he couldn’t resist pulling his own cock out and jacking off. “Hey, what’s cum taste like?” Jacob asked with a guilty leer, like he wasn’t supposed to ask. He pulled away from Rob’s mouth so he could answer. Rob took a deep, hoarse, gasping breath. He tried to go back to Jacob’s cock, but Jacob frowned and kept his head away by holding his forehead. “Huh? What’s cum taste like?” “Uh… salty, and uh… it’s… hard to describe.” Rob gulped. It was difficult to concentrate right now, with the scent of Jacob’s cock just in front of his nose. He wanted to go back to slurping on it again but Jacob held his head back. “Is it gross?” “No. Well, yeah, kinda, but I like it,” Rob said. He blushed. “Huh. You embarrassed ‘bout it?” he asked. He threw his hands in the air. His cock bobbed, jutting out from his crotch. “You tell ya daddy you jerk off random dudes?” “You’re not random. I chose you.” “No offense or nothin’,” he said. He shrugged. “You don’t feel embarrassed swallowin’ cock? Like a girl?” “I’m not embarrassed,” Rob said with a shrug. Rob’s voice was cut off by that cock sliding back in his throat. “I just don’t see how this ain’t humiliatin’ for ya,” he said. “You swallowin’ dick. I pee outta there, man. Fuckin’ nasty. It ain’t even, y’know, I ain’t touchin’ ya dick, so it ain’t even like you gettin’ something outta this.” Rob gurgled. He wanted to explain further, but his mouth was full of dick, and it was hard to explain the allure the male form had for him. Jacob had resumed plowing his face slowly and gently, just hard enough to make Rob sputter a little. Jacob’s sweaty balls slapped against Rob’s chin and rested there. “Yee-haw!” He lifted his camo shirt over his head, though he didn’t take it off, he just bared his chest. He was thickly built, without a six-pack though his belly was flat. He was moderately hairy and tattooed. “God-damn, boy. You should be ashamed of this. You shouldn’t be makin’ some other man feel good. That ain’t how a real man should act.” But he didn’t say that like he expected Rob to respond. He put his hand behind his head as though he didn’t like touching Rob, which let Rob use both hands and his mouth on Jacob’s shaft. Rob bore down on his cock until his nose pressed into Jacob’s hairy crotch. He sucked down every drop of precum. “You can punch me,” Jacob said. He let go of Rob’s head. He got down on his knees across from Rob, so close that Rob could feel his breath condensing on his cheek. Jacob frowned. “Go’n, I got this theory that wusses can be saved. They just ain’t nevuh done nothin’ real manly, you know? You gotta flip that switch to be a real man. Don’t happen to wussies.” “What?” “You evuh punch a man?” “Uh, yeah.” “Really? A real man?” “Yes…” Rob said. He sighed. “You really want me to punch you?” “Yeah. I think it’ll help. I promise, if you do it and you don’t like it, you can go back to jerking me off.” Jacob paused and cocked his head to the side. “You better go back to it, I mean, even if you do like throwing a punch. Don’t blue-ball me, and you gonna have to pay me no matter what.” Jacob stood up straight and lifted Rob up at the same time, so they both stood in the tiny corner of the storage area. “Fine, I’ll punch you if you want. But then you gotta start cornholing me in the ass,” Rob said. “I wanna feel your dick inside me.” He scrunched up his nose. “Ew… Fine. You got a tight ass?” “Yeah.” “I don’t wanna cornhole you if ya sloppy, boy,” Jacob said. He put his hands on his hips. “So go ahead. Punch me.” Rob nodded. He knew an alpha male like Jacob would never start and then stop because his hole was too lose. That was fine to brag about but not something that any man like that would do. Rob wanted to impress Jacob, so he reared his fist back and punched as hard as he could. His fist collided with Jacob’s face. Blood spurted from his nose. Jacob stumbled back and would have fallen to the ground except that he was already pinned up against one wall. He just gripped the wood behind himself and supported himself that way. “Hell yeah, boy!” Jacob shouted. He beamed broadly and wiped a few drops of blood off his face. Rob was glad he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He had rather hoped he could punch hard enough to knock Jacob down, but that was probably never realistic — Jacob outweighed him considerably, and was a lot tougher, that much was obvious. “How’d that make ya feel, huh?” Jacob asked. Rob shrugged. “Nothing really. You ready to ram me?” He sighed. “Fine. Bend over. Bend over forwards, boy, don’t try and lay on ya back or nothin’, I don’t wanna see your face.” Rob nodded. He got down on all fours — that was his preferred position anyway. It was perfectly submissive, he thought, bending over like a dog. Jacob’s callused hands gripped Rob’s ass and held on tight as he worked his dick in. As soon as the tip slid in, Rob let out a moan of pleasure and pain. It hurt bad but that lasted only a few seconds. Once Jacob’s redneck cock hit his prostate, a powerful pang of pleasure rang out deep within Rob. He grunted. “Ah, shit, you wasn’t kiddin’ ‘bout that tight ass. You should give lessons to my girl,” Jacob said. He relentlessly pounded his cock in, ignoring Rob’s resistance. Rob moaned uncontrollably. Every movement Jacob made sent a new wave of pleasure through his body. Jacob moved a lot too, not just pivoting his hips but shifting his weight between his legs, clapping his hands together above Rob’s body and shaking his entire chest as he writhed. Somebody whistled. It was a brief melody, just a few notes, but it sounded very deliberate, almost like a signal. “Fuck, hey, remember what I said? Remember? This is Terrell. I’m gonna tell him you a snitch-“ That seemed like a bad plan. If Rob weren’t overwhelmed with desire and pressure in his asshole, he would have said so. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak, and in any case, he didn’t have enough time to come up with a better idea. Terrell appeared right then. He was bopping along to a beat only he heard. When he turned the corner and saw Jacob cock-deep in Rob’s ass, he stopped moving for a moment as though he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. “Take that shit, bitch!” Jacob said with a roar. “Ah, there you is, Terrell. This here is a snitch. My brother sent him-“ “What the fuck are you doin’, boi?!” Jacob laughed. From Rob’s position with Jacob’s cock in his ass, he could sense that Jacob was uncomfortable bluffing like this, but he needed to puff up his image in front of Terrell. Terrell was a tubby duckydoo, with a big round face and long dreadlocks. “I’m punishin’ this snitch,” Jacob said. “What?” Jacob guffawed. He slapped Rob’s cheeks hard, then punched him in the back. Rob howled in pain, which he exaggerated for effect. Jacob smiled. “Remember my brother in prison?” “Yeah.” “This snitch here tried to squeal on ‘im. So when he got out, my brother sent ‘im to me, so I can make ‘im squeal instead.” He paused and grabbed Rob by the hair. “You hear that, bitch? Huh? Squeal like a piggie.” He drove his dick in so deep and so hard that Rob had trouble doing so. He opened his mouth to let out a delicate, gentle oinking sound, as his whole body undulated with the power of his imminent orgasm. “Nah, louder, bitch! Huh? Lemme hear it!” “Oink!” Rob squealed as loud as he could. “Yeah…” Jacob groaned. He hefted his entire body up over Rob’s back and pressed down. He pinned Rob to the ground, keeping a tight hold on his hair. That upped the pressure and the pleasure emanating from deep in Rob’s asshole. Terrell watched with wide-eyed amazement. He clutched his belly, and his dreadlocks trembled. “Damn, Jacob, I take back what I said ‘bout whiteboys. You know how to lay down the law.” He paused. “I can’t watch this shit. Jerry is lookin’ for you.” “Tell Jerry to go fuck his mother.” Terrell chuckled. “No,” he said. “I ain’t tellin’ him that, cuz you prolly gonna make him do it. Damn, rednecks is crazy.” He walked away, shaking his head. “I am nevuh gonna smoke a blunt there again. Gonna smell like whiteboy booty forevuh.” Jacob scoffed and chuckled. He smiled. He pinned Rob down, moving his hips from side to side as he shifted his cock around inside Rob’s ass. Though Jacob didn’t notice it, Rob shot his load right then, spraying his wad all over the floor. He shuddered and clenched down on Jacob’s cock. “Thanks, man,” Jacob said. “He was really impressed.” “Uh-huh,” Rob said as his orgasm flowed through his veins. He groaned right into Rob’s ear. “I’m gonna nut now, man, I’m gonna nut. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” It sounded like his orgasm was almost painful — or maybe just so stressful his voice was clipped and tense. He jabbed his dick all the way and moaned loudly, his hairy chest rumbling against Rob’s smooth back. A hot wad of cum sprayed into him. There was something warm and sunny about it, a summery feeling to its texture, which seemed to fit with Jacob’s redneck look. His breathing was jagged and rough, moistly condensing on Rob’s ear. His muscles rippled. “Damn, boy…” “Oink! Oink! Oink!” Rob squealed like a piglet again without waiting for Jacob to demand it That load of cum spurted into every corner of Rob’s body, its heat seeping into his flesh as Rob squealed. The sound was loud, and he could hear Terrell laughing from not too far away — he must have gone nearby to smoke that blunt, and could hear Rob’s oinking. It was one of the biggest loads Rob had ever taken, great big jets of it filling him up and dripping down between his thighs. Jacob stayed there for what felt like forever. His cock slowly limpened inside of Rob, who moaned and squirmed. His fingers tightened into claws that dug at the grimy concrete floor beneath him. “Ah, shit,” Jacob said with a chuckle and a long, slow sigh. He lifted his head up but kept his dick in Rob’s ass. “Hey, boy, I ain’t sayin’ I care on ‘ccount of I ain’t no sissy. I was just… Do I do that good?” “Wha’?” Rob was too engrossed in his post-orgasmic bliss and the pain in his ass to think of an answer. He fumbled with his wallet to get out the money and pay Jacob. “Do I do that good? Is my dick good? Like… if you was a girl, and I fucked you like that — in the pussy, not the ass — would that be good? Would you tell ya girlfriends I was good?” “Uh… I don’t have a vagina, Jacob. I don’t really know-” Rob found it hard to concentrate with Jacob’s rapidly limpening dick in his ass. “I know, I know, I just mean… Nevermind. What about the ass? Some girls like getting fucked in the ass, right? Is it the same? Like, if I’m good at plowing a man in the ass, does that mean I’d be good at fucking a girl in the ass?” When Rob didn’t immediately respond, Jacob pulled on his hair. “Huh? Pay attention, man, I’m talkin’ at ya.” “Yeah. You do that good. You really… If a girl likes getting fucked in the ass, she’ll like you fucking her in the ass,” Rob said. He nodded and sighed. “Okay. I guess that’s pretty good.” He pulled his dick out. Rob sighed grandly. Jacob looked at his ass-juiced cock like it was too gross to touch. “The only girls I know who like anal are sluts. They like anything.” “Uh-huh. That’s normal. Some nice women like anal, but they probably only ever tell their boyfriends that. So the only women you find out about are the slutty ones. That’s what makes them sluts, after all,” Rob said. He sat up, dizzy and groggy. “That makes sense.” Jacob nodded. He submitted to Rob getting some paper towels from a roll in storage and wiping Jacob’s dick clean. Jacob watched with intent interest as though there was going to be a test on it later. The radio on Jacob’s belt flickered into life again. Jerry’s voice filled the air. Jacob. Where are you? I see a cart full of shit in Outdoor Supplies. Jacob quickly pulled his pants up and smiled. “Jerry,” he said, “You’re not supposed to curse on the radio. My tender ears are in pain. It’s unprofessional and contrary to the All-Mart Statement of Purpose. That’s not a community-building way to speak, Jerry.” Jacob… Get out here and do the Outdoor Supplies. Jacob shrugged, as Rob headed for the exit. “Hey, go out the back, man. Terrell gonna be out there smoking his blunt. Act like you scared of me and you runnin’ away.” “Okay. See ya,” Rob said as he headed out, but Jacob was already ignoring him. Jacob was on the radio needling his boss, while Rob headed out the back door. He took a deep breath before fresh air — and the fragrant smell of weed — flooded his lungs. Rob managed to pretend to cry as he ran past Terrell and out into the night. Terrell laughed and catcalled after him. Rob didn’t need to pretend to walk bow-legged because his ass did hurt, but it felt good too, and he was still experiencing the aftereffects of his orgasm as he fled into the Nebraska night. Rob grinned as he ran, revelling in the satisfaction he gained from that more rewarding experience than he thought possible at a second-rate All-Mart in the middle of the night. Jacob was right, he thought, he really did give excellent customer service.
Alboroto is a badass and a ladysman, but when he gets in a bad spot, a weird gringo white dude is willing to give him a few dollars in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!
Not that Alboroto needs any help…
Read it now as an ebook!
Or read the whole thing here!
Rob settled into his motel room at the Top Inn and got to work. The weather was beautiful, and the beach was not far from here. He really wanted to go out and bask in the sun, swim in the sea for the first time in years, not to mention eyebang the hunks and hotties whom he suspected would be there. Riverside, California seemed to be full of studs. So that was what he needed to get done today. He had already written most of it. He just needed to churn the ending out, then he could go out guy-watching — Rob appreciated the male physique, and Riverside was full of splendid examples of it. Any city with this many men had to leave most of them unsatisfied, since there weren’t anywhere’s near as many sexy women that Rob could see. When he reached a good stopping point, he decided to take a break. All he had to write was another four thousand words or so for the ending, and he’d be done for the day. Rob could write ten thousand words a day without breaking a sweat. He resolved to at least sketch out the chapter, but then he nearly bumped into the bare, bulging bicep of a young Latino man walking by. Rob caught a whiff of his cheap cologne and a few sweaty notes that made his dick chub up. The Latino didn’t notice that he had nearly bumped into Rob because he was on his cell phone, clicking his tongue against his teeth as a feminine voice yelled at him. His pants were slung low, and his muscles bulged from his wifebeater, atop which hung a couple shimmering chains. “I told you, chica, I’ll buy it. I promise. Yo’ birthday ain’t till tomorrow, right? I ain’t late. I’ll pawn some chains, baby, don’t worry. I never let you down,” he said. “Yeah. Alright, baby.” He sighed and whispered. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I said I was sorry. I, uh, I love you, chica. C’mon… I love you. I was drunk then, but I love you, c’mon…” He looked at the phone and tssked his tonge against his teeth again. He put the phone back in his pocket — she had already hung up. He shook his head and lit a cigarette. “Girl trouble?” Rob asked. He glanced at Rob like he hadn’t known he was there. He nodded noncommitall and mumbled something like wuzzup. “I’m Rob,” he said. “I’m a writer.” “Cool.” He took a drag on his cigarette. “I’ve got two hundred and three dollars cash in my wallet. I’ll give it to you if you let me jerk you off,” Rob said. He was blunt since it appeared this guy was not going to engage in a conversation. The Latino looked up at Rob — though built like the proverbial brick shithouse, he was not tall — and glared at him. He sneered. “Gringo… You should not be talkin’ ‘bout cash in this city,” he said. “I am gonna take yo’ two hundred and three dollars. And I will also let you jerk me off. Those two things ain’t related. I am robbin’ you, motherfucker, I ain’t yo’ rent boy.” “Uh, okay,” Rob said. “Can we use your room?” He didn’t want to give this guy the chance to steal his laptop. He wasn’t writing this plowing lesbian story all over again, and he hadn’t backed up since Monday. The Latino nodded, then let him in. He had the room next to Rob’s. As soon as he walked in, he took off his shirt. He kept his chains and his backwards baseball cap on, and he didn’t lower his pants. “You’ll lick balls, right?” “Yes, sir, I will,” Rob said. He blushed at the sight of the Latino’s rippling muscles. That made Rob’s face and chest turn red, and his dick got a little harder in his pants. The Latino beamed like he didn’t get called sir a lot, which is exactly why Rob had done it. “What should I call you, sir?” “Gimme that money and start,” he said, sneering at the question he refused to answer. Rob’s hands shook as he pulled out his wallet. He had exactly two hundred and three dollars in there. He tremblingly handed it over to the Latino, and his hands fumbled with the Latino’s fly. The word Alboroto was tattooed on his belly; Rob didn’t know what it meant. It looked like a nickname, so that was what Rob decided to call him. He unzipped Alboroto’s jeans and pulled his long, thick dick out through the fly. “Get to suckin’, gringo,” Alboroto said. He crossed his arms over his bare chest. Rob kissed the tip to tease him. He produced a mouthful of spit and spat it out on Alboroto’s shaft. Then he sucked the spit back up and repeated that a few times, as he licked the sides and rubbed the entire cockshaft over his lips. But he didn’t actually put it in his mouth yet. Rob loved provoking macho alpha males like Alboroto, who kept his chin up, avoiding looking down at Rob. His arms were over his chest, and every few seconds he scoffed like he was annoyed Rob hadn’t made him cum yet. “What do you need to buy for your girlfriend?” Rob asked. He thwacked that massive cock over his face. It was only half-hard yet, throbbing and meaty, slick with saliva. He kept his tongue out of his mouth, rubbing Alboroto’s dick over it as he talked. “Is it a present? I could help. I know a lot about what girls want.” “What do you know about girls?” “I’m a romance author.” “What?” “Remember I said I’m a writer? I mainly write romance for women,” Rob said. He licked cocksweat off his own lips and rubbed his tongue along the veins that lined Alboroto’s shaft. Rob giggled. “I know a lot about what they want.” Alboroto scoffed and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Man, that ain’t relevant. My girl don’t read some gringo’s romance-” He paused like he had just realized something. “Oh. I mean, she read some shit on her kindle-“ “Yeah, that’s it.” “She read yo’ shit?” “Well, I dunno about that, prolly not me specifically,” Rob said. “Is she into rugby jocks?” He deep-throated Alboroto’s dick one time, just lowering his head all the way until he gagged and sputtered. His nose nestled in Alboroto’s trimmed pubic hair. Alboroto gasped. His knees buckled and his dick perked up in Rob’s mouth. His muscles roiling, jaw trembling, Alboroto mumbled something that Rob didn’t understand. It was clear that he was saying that he didn’t know what rugby was and he didn’t pay enough attention to his chica’s interests to know if she read romance novels on her kindle. Rob pulled off and smiled up at Alboroto, who had a flat expression on his face though his suddenly pulsating cock suggested he was enjoying the dome very much. He just didn’t want to admit it. He shifted his weight. Rob took a deep breath. “Your dick tastes so good. I bet your chica loves sucking on it.” He flared his nostrils. “No. She-” His voice broke as Rob deep-throated him again. Alboroto grunted as he again covered up how aroused he was. “She only sucks dick if I, uh… If I do…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at his cock disappearing down Rob’s throat. “I mean, she sucks me off whenevuh I tell her to.” Rob pulled away and clucked his tongue. “Oh, you poor baby. I think all girls should suck their man off every day,” he said. Always tell ‘em what they wanna hear… “Hell yeah, you should run for president,” Alboroto mumbled. He groaned as his dick spasmed in Rob’s mouth. “Is it okay if I lick your balls, sir?” Rob asked. He giggled and blushed. Alboroto nodded. “Yeah, man, open up. You like that?” Alboroto loved it when his girl sucked on his balls, but she hated it and had only done so once. “I love it. I bet you have tasty balls,” Rob said with a laugh. “Si.” Rob turned his head upwards and opened his mouth. Alboroto pulled his heavy, hairy ballsack out of the fly of his jeans, and he plopped it right in Rob’s waiting mouth. Instantly the flavor of Alboroto’s sweat assaulted Rob’s senses. He moaned and gurgled, producing more saliva and tickling Alboroto’s scrotum skin. Alboroto grunted and heaved some more. He kept his arms folded over his chest, accentuating his thick pecs; his muscles kept tensing and flexing and he had to force his hands to remain in position. He closed his eyes and moaned, but bit his lip to stifle it. “You okay, man,” Alboroto said with a dry, throaty chuckle. He wrinkled his nose. “You okay at this. I had better. Pity you ain’t got tits.” Rob said he was sorry for not being a girl, but his mouth was full of sweaty balls, so all that came out was a moist, muffled sound. He licked Alboroto’s scrotum, lapping at it as Alboroto shifted his weight. His eyes bugged out like he had rarely had someone suck his balls so perfectly. Finally Alboroto couldn’t bear to keep his arms folded over his chest anymore. He smacked the motel room wall behind himself and threw his head back. He groaned so loud the sound resonated in Rob’s ears, and he could even feel the vibrations in Alboroto’s cock. “C’mon, lick my dick.” He grabbed Rob’s head as though going to throat him down. But then the feel of Rob’s hair stopped him — it was short and entirely too masculine. Alboroto didn’t want to touch him. But he was enjoying the dome. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He put his arms over his chest again, though he found it difficult to keep them there. Alboroto had never gotten dome from a man before. He would have never admitted that. When he was eighteen, he spent three weeks in prison. When he came back, he told his friends that he had turned a inmate into a whore and had throated him until he begged for mercy. None of that had been true but it had made Alboroto seem like a real gangsta. He was glad to have an opportunity to really do it for once, so now he could truthfully say he wasn’t a bullshitter about this (or at least, it wasn’t completely bullshit). His friends still called him Violador sometimes in reference to it. But he couldn’t admit, even to himself right now, how good the dome from Rob was — he always swore that prison dome was sloppy and crappy. Alboroto had been complaining to his friends for years about how he needed a girl who would suck his dick like a good, submissive bitch should. “Swallow it deep, man, get it all the way in there… Bajo” He wondered if he should ram this gringo in the ass. A part of him said no, of course not, that was too gross. But another part of him said to do it. He had been bragging about plowing that man in prison — he had told people he rammed that prison punk until he cried — so maybe it would be good to actually do it once. He’d never tell his friends about this one, but at least he wouldn’t be lying when he said he did it. In truth, his friends would not think less of him for ramrodding a man. That would simply make him an hombre, which was fine. In his culture, men were either hombres who rammed or pasivos who got rammed. It wasn’t bad to be an hombre. That made you a real man, especially if you rammed your pasivo in a hard and cruel way. So that was what he intended to do. But first, Alboroto called his friend Jamaal. “Yo.” Yo, sup. “You got that Carter Ave deal, right? Yeah. Why you callin’ ‘bout that again? “Just wanted to make sure, nigga.” Whatchoo doin’? “Gettin’ head. You wanna hear?” Alboroto smiled and held the phone low, right next to where his cock plunged down Rob’s throat. His dick was rock-hard now, precum flowing like piss. If he wasn’t distracted by his discomfort with being with a man, Alboroto thought he would have cum already. Sounds nice, man. I thought yo’ chica wasn’t doin’ that anymore- “Shut the fuck up, nigga. My bitch does it when I tell her to.” So that is her? “I ain’t say that. I ain’t say it was a her at all. I gots me a prison bitch, Jamaal.” Oh yeah, right, just like that one in prison, huh? “Fuck you.” E’rybody know you a big bullshitter, Durango. Tha’s prolly some whore you paid like two bucks for dome. “Man, Jamaal-“ How much she charge to take her teeth out first? You know you gonna have to pay for antibiotics, right? Would-a been cheaper to pay more fo’ a better whore. “Ram you, Jamaal! Shut your mouth,” Getting annoyed, Alboroto resumed throating Rob down, since at least that way he could express his frustration, even if it wasn’t aimed at the right person. He gripped Rob’s head with one hand, holding the phone with the other — a few minutes ago he had found it distracting to touch a man’s hair, but now he was both hornier and more distracted, so he didn’t think of that. “Yeah, you here that, Jamaal? Huh? That’s my balls slappin’ on my bitch’s chin.” Oh yeah? That must be nice. Ain’t nobody evuh manage to suck my dick that deep, y’know. Mouths don’t come that big. “I’m gonna come throat yo’ face next,” Alboroto said with a snarl. He hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself. He should never have called Jamaal. Jamaal was going to tell everyone that Alboroto was mess with a toothless herpes-ridden crackwhore. He tried to banish those thoughts from his mind. He focused on the pleasure twinging up from his veiny cockshaft as saliva dripped down it in clumps, landing in his shortened pubic hair — his chica demanded he keep himself trimmed. He pumped his hips, slamming his dick down deep in Rob’s throat. “You gonna make me nut, boy…” Alboroto said. He didn’t mention that his girlfriend’s toothy, off-rhythm sucking never brought him to orgasm so easily, on those rare occasions when he talked her into trying it. When he felt an orgasm coming on quickly, Alboroto grabbed Rob and pulled him off his dick. He felt momentarily disappointed as his dick was now without attention. It felt cold, and it throbbed like it demanded someone touching it, sucking on it, taking it inside some tight, dark hole. “You gonna give up the ass, gringo?” “Yes, sir,” Rob said. He teased Alboroto by standing up and stretching his legs. He knew he had a nice plump ass, which he displayed after dropping his jeans. He made a big show of slowly bending over the bed, knowing that Alboroto would just get more frustrated as he waited. “Do you have lube?” Alboroto nodded. He pulled a tube out of a duffel bag, out of which he had been living for the past month. He poured the lube onto the top of Rob’s asscrack, so it seeped down into his hole. It was cold at first, and Rob let out a shiver. Then he felt an explosion of pressure in his asshole. As always, it hurt at first, more than it felt good, especially this time since Alboroto was not trying to be gentle. But within a few seconds of that throbbing brown meat entering him, Rob moaned as a shard of pre-orgasmic pleasure hit him. He was already rock-hard from the taste of Alboroto’s dick, and now his excited prostate sent him to the next level. “Ah, yes, stick it in me, Alboroto…” he said. His voice broke and he hung his head. “You ain’t gotta tell me that,” Alboroto said. He saw Rob’s wallet on the floor and fished it out as he worked his dick in, centimeter by centimeter. He didn’t want to steal the man’s credit cards, that was too dangerous, but he did want to see if he had any emergency cash. Sure enough, there was a folded-up fifty dollar bill, which Alboroto pocketed. He wanted to distract the gringo, so he grabbed his own clean wifebeater and used it like a tether in the guy’s mouth. Rob bit down hard on the fabric, which smelled of Alboroto’s sweat and his cheap cologne, a generic-brand body spray by the scent of it. That made Rob’s dick throb and leak precum onto the mattress — Rob loved the funky smell of unwashed men. “Gonna ramroad you the way a vato should,” Alboroto said. “Get on your back, bitch.” His chest was dappled with sweat. He dropped the wifebeater, pulled his dick out and rolled Rob over. Right after being released from prison when he was eighteen, Alboroto’s uncle had told him how a real hombre should ram his pasivo. He said that the pasivo has to be on his back, with his legs in the air, both because that was similar to a position you might fuck a woman in and because it meant he couldn’t run away — Alboroto’s uncle had been in prison off and on throughout his life, in the US, Mexico and also Guatemala briefly. Now he really wanted that position, even if it did mean he’d be able to see Rob’s cock as he jacked himself off. That just seemed gross. Alboroto couldn’t imagine how anyone took dick in the ass and liked it, and seeing Rob’s hard cock made it impossible to avoid thinking about that. So he closed his eyes and pumped his hips. His cock was all the way in Rob’s ass. That had been so easy, and it felt so good, he didn’t even notice that he felt no real resistance. He had never fucked a girl who didn’t complain about his dick in her ass. It was nice to be able to pound away as hard as he could, knowing he wouldn’t have to hear constant whining and telling him to take a break. He held Rob’s feet in position, and he was so aroused he didn’t even notice Rob’s leg hair scratching against Alboroto’s flesh. Alboroto slammed his dick in and out, marveling at how tight Rob’s ass was, yet loose enough that Alboroto could ram him hard. The more he plowed back and forth, the less inhibited he got. Alboroto slapped Rob’s asscheeks, which his girl hated, and smiled as that made Rob clench and moan. Waves of pleasure erupted from deep within Alboroto. He was about to orgasm when his cell phone rang. He knew who it was even before he pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. It was his chica, Rosa. “Keep quiet, man,” he said. He answered the phone. “Hey, baby.” You pawn those chains yet? “It’s been like twenty minutes, chica.” So? My birthday is still tomorrow, and if you think I’m lettin’ my sister show me up, you got another thing comin’. “Baby, I tol’ you, I’d buy it,” he said. He sniffled. Alboroto spoke quietly and plainly to her, his bravado largely gone. He kept plowing as he talked, but he moved his hips slowly, both to keep himself from orgasming as he talked and because he didn’t want to make noise. He sighed. Don’t you roll your eyes at me, nigga. I can hear you- “You can’t hear my eyes roll.” Yes, I can, you no-good asshole. You fuckin’ some slut right now? “No, baby!” I want that perfume, Durango. You promised it. You always say that you buy me nice things because you’re such a gangsta, but you never actually do it- “I said I’d do it! I’ll buy it!” he said. He stopped moving with his dick all the way in Rob’s ass, so deep Rob’s balls even touched Alboroto’s crotch-hair. His dick throbbed against Rob’s prostate, making Rob writhe as he tried to avoid crying out. Alboroto was very annoyed, especially that she had called him Durango — that’s what she always called him, but Rob had started to call him Alboroto because he didn’t know his real name and it was tattooed on his belly. Alboroto had never gotten his girl to call him that. She constantly “forgot” and called him Durango. He felt like a loser complaining about it to her, but it did annoy him, and as he had been listening to Rob moan about how much he loved Alboroto’s cock sliding into him, Alboroto was now reminded of why he liked to be called by his street name. The perfume was one recently released by a Latina rapper named Reinita Ray. Alboroto didn’t see what the big deal was — it was just a perfume — but his girlfriend idolized Reinita Ray, and her sister had gone to a concert that Alboroto had “accidentally” (but really on-purpose) forgotten to buy tickets for. So he couldn’t fail to buy the perfume as well. You had better, nigga. You gonna pawn those chains? “Nah. I’m robbin’ this gringo instead. Don’t call me again, I’m in the middle of a robbery,” he said. He hung up the phone before she could say anything. He turned it off. That oughta sound like a real gangsta, he thought to himself, and it wasn’t even a lie, not really. He rammed so hard his balls slapped against Rob’s asscheeks. One of his hands had wandered over while he was on the phone, and now it rested above Rob’s neck, holding him in place. Alboroto gave him a squeeze. It wasn’t tight enough to strangle Rob, but it did get his attention. His mind was swimming with pleasure, as he stroked himself off and wiggled on the bedspread. The blankets and sheets were wadded up by now, on the foot of the bed. It was obvious Alboroto was about to cum. Rob orgasmed as well, his prostate singing and tingling with every thrust of Alboroto’s cock into him. Rob’s entire body tensed and clenched. He threw his head back and screamed so loud people outside the motel room could hear. As cum flew over Rob’s stomach, Alboroto wrinkled his nose. He knew a lot of hombres didn’t allow their pasivos to jack off while they got rammed — he wished he had thought of that before, because now he could smell semen, which made his stomach churn. He even saw it trickle down Rob’s flesh, most of it going over the side and onto the mattress, but one rivulet ran down to Alboroto’s cock. If he wasn’t on the verge of orgasming as well, he would have stopped to punish Rob for getting cum on him. “Take it, man, yeah…” But he didn’t want to stop, even if he did feel another man’s semen coating his dick. That made him shudder with disgust. His muscles tensed. His gold and platinum changed tinkled when they clanged against each other as he rammed. “Take it, gringo, yeah, you gonna get filled up…” He moaned as he came. He forgot about pretending he would rather be plowing a girl — he would, of course, but only if she had an ass exactly like this gringo. He strangled Rob for real, for just a few seconds, long enough to make him wiggle and clench his ass again. It felt like he was tearing that ass up, which made Alboroto feel like a tough guy, like his father. “Oh god, Alboroto, your dick is so perfect…” He slammed his dick in and out, even as it became uncomfortably sensitive. He liked hearing Rob enthusiastically beg for more, and he liked watching how every thrust of his hips made Rob squirm a little more. He also liked how his cumload made a big mess the more he rammed, big waves of bubbly, frothy cum coating his crotch and soaking into the mattress. “You done, punk? Huh?” Alboroto asked — his uncle had said this was how you finished inside a pasivo in prison, so Alboroto wanted to try it out — “Huh? Answer me, bitch. You want me to pull out? I ain’t gonna pull out till you beg me to do it. Gonna stay inside ya-“ “Don’t ever pull out,” Rob said, his voice weak and tremulous. His entire body shook as aftershocks of his orgasm washed over him. He moaned again and clutched the mattress beneath himself. Alboroto’s dick slowly limpened inside Rob’s guts. “Tell me when you done, bitch. Tell me…” His menacing voice trailed off as he realized this wasn’t going to work. Maybe in prison where you weren’t doing it on a comfortable bed, and you didn’t have nice lube. But here, this gringo was in no hurry to get Alboroto to pull out. That meant Alboroto had painted himself into a corner — he was too proud to remove his cock without hearing Rob beg, since he had sworn he wouldn’t. If Rob wasn’t going to beg, there was nothing Alboroto could do without losing face. “Can you move your dick a little to the left?” Rob asked. “There’s a spot there…” He groaned and smiled as Alboroto’s dick shifted and another wave of pleasure hit him. In actuality, there was a lot of discomfort too, now that they had both cum. But Rob liked making things difficult for Alboroto — it brought out the machismo in him. Alboroto’s muscles tensed and flexed. “Ain’t gonna pull out till you make me, bitch. Beg me for it,” Alboroto said. He spat on Rob’s face, but Rob just sucked it up. That made Alboroto gag, as did the sight of his dick in Rob’s hairy, frothy-cummed asshole. Could he just pull out? Embarrassing himself in front of some random gringo who wasn’t even from Riverside shouldn’t be a problem, he thought. But he still didn’t want to do it. Rob grinned. It finally got uncomfortable enough he gave in. “Please, sir, take your dick out, so I can clean it off.” “Alright,” Alboroto said, relieved to be done. He pulled his dick out, deliberately keeping his head up so he didn’t see it — he didn’t want to know how nasty his cock looked right now. He hadn’t thought to make his bitch clean his dick off, but that was a good idea. Rob used kleenex to wipe the shaft off. He used most of an entire box, sopping up all the cum and the assjuice and the spit that still clung to it. Then he kissed Alboroto’s dick right on the shaft. Alboroto shuddered as his knees buckled. His dick spasmed, reawakening all of the pleasure that had diminished since he finished plowing. His voice broke as he mumbled for Rob to quit playing with it. “Damn, gringo. You really like cock, huh?” “I like your cock, baby,” Rob said. He leaned back on the bed, naked, until Alboroto barked at him to get dressed. “We done now, gringo. Unless you got more cash I ain’t rob off you yet,” he said. He put his wifebeater back on. Rob slowly put his clothes on while Alboroto grinned at him. Rob made a kissy face, and Alboroto looked away. “Hey, Alboroto,” Rob said. “I don’t have any more cash. But I’ll write you a check for a hundred dollars if you kiss me, with tongue. You don’t have any way of knowing if the check will clear. You’ll just have to trust me.” “No way! Fuck no! I ain’t no kinda pansy,” Alboroto said. His blood boiled, but his anger came mainly from the fact that he knew he was going to say yes — a hundred bucks and all he had to do was spend a couple seconds pretending he was with a girl? He could do that. “Absolutely not, gringo. That is fuckin’ nasty.” But then before Rob could say anything, Alboroto grabbed him in his arms and threw him back on the bed, where Rob felt the wet spots and smelled the cumstains they had just created. Alboroto’s muscular chest flexed beneath Rob’s grasp as Alboroto kissed him right on the lips. His tongue plunged into Rob’s mouth and stayed there, completely still, not moving even when Rob’s tongue touched it. It was like Alboroto thought sticking his tongue in Rob’s mouth was okay, but moving it around made it feel too weird. To Rob, Alboroto’s awkwardness made it even better. That was what he liked. It was, objectively speaking, the worst kiss ever. But Rob got to grope Alboroto’s strapping back and even his plump asscheeks beneath his jeans, before Alboroto finally pulled away. He growled. “You best write that check, bitch. And if it don’t cash… I swear to God, I will track you down. Your address is on the check, y’know.” “Oh right,” Rob said, making it sound like he had really forgotten that. The address on the check was in Florida, and if Alboroto did go there, he’d find just a UPS store. But Rob didn’t let on. The check would clear. Alboroto beamed like he had just gotten away with something as Rob wrote out the check. He put machismo in the memo line. “I’ll leave that top line blank,” Rob said, “since you don’t want to tell me your real name.” He nodded and swiped the check. “Now get out, bitch.” Rob did as he was told. He was glad to be away from Alboroto safely, even if he was also going to miss that cock.
When Avery stumbles across an alpha male skater behind a convenience store, he didn’t know what he was in for! Mucker and his buddies are totally hardcore, and Mucker is ready to give Avery the longdicking he requires… with a little monetary persuasion.
That means Avery is in for a world of skatepunk alpha male action!
Read it now as an ebook!
Or read the whole thing here!
Avery waited in the alley behind the gas station. It was a secluded little spot, blocked from view by the store clerk’s car. The Long Beach air was salty and coarse because they were near the ocean. Cars honked nearby, but it sounded very distant back here, muffled by the store and the car and the dumpster and the city itself. “You do it-“ “I said I’d do it, no problem, I’m no fuckin’ pansy. But if I do it, it’s my skateboard.” “Man, the whole point was that we share the skateboard.” “Then you do it too.” “Can’t we just share it?” “I might let you borrow it from time to time,” said Mucker — he was the rather lanky shaved-head white one with a tattoo of a flaming skull on his forearm and Gothic writing on his belly. He sucked on his teeth. “I’m gonna do it. Both of you all can jerk me off.” He chuckled. He came back around to Avery’s side of the car, in the alley behind the convenience store. He obviously didn’t realize that Avery heard him and his buddies talking. Mucker and his two friends were skateboarders. Mucker had a punk rock hardcore look, while his friends were more of a Goth — Bram — and a hipster — Leif. But all three were handsome and alluring, with physiques worth seeking out. That was what Avery liked. He greatly appreciated the male form. “Hey, I’m in, bro,” Mucker said like it was no big deal. He had a cocky swagger, though Avery could tell he was nervous. “You got a smoke? Gimme a smoke too.” Avery didn’t smoke, but he had a pack of cigarettes he had bought for just this possibility. They were probably kind of stale now, but Mucker didn’t seem to care as he took one. Then he scowled and grabbed the pack. “Pay upfront.” “No way. How do I know you’ll stay?” “You don’t, man.” Mucker lit his cigarette with a match. “I’m gonna take your three hundred dollars no matter what. You can pay me and jerk me off. Or I can rob you and punch you in the face. Your choice.” “I’ll pay you,” Avery said with a shrug. He had a feeling something like that would happen. He’d run into Mucker and his buddies back in a skate park, and he’d known from the first glance that Mucker was a gettable piece of rough trade. He had that studly a-mouth’s-a-mouth look, like he just needed to bust a nut and didn’t care whose mouth swallowed it. Avery dropped to his knees in front of Mucker, who sighed like this was a big imposition. He flopped his cock out in front of his shorts. Avery hadn’t paid him yet, but Mucker either didn’t want to force the issue or was so anxious he had forgotten about the demand. His two friends, Bram and Leif, giggled but shushed themselves because it wasn’t manly enough. They serioused up their faces and looked dourly upon the scene, wrinkling their noses when Mucker’s dick started to get hard. “See? It ain’t bad,” Mucker said. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as the other guys. His cock was still limp, which didn’t bother Avery, who enjoyed playing with a limp dick and in any case could feel the hardon burgeoning within. It’d get hard soon enough. Meanwhile he slathered spit up and down the shaft. Mucker screwed up his eyes. “It’s good dome.” “Can you feel hair on his face?” “Yeah, he’s got some stubble-“ “No, I can’t feel it, bro,” Mucker said. He scoffed as though that was a ridiculous notion. Avery knew it wasn’t ridiculous — some guys hated feeling even a bit of scruff on their dicks — but if you were tough enough, it didn’t matter. Vaginas had hair too, around the outside. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but not all men saw it that way. His dick starting to firm, Mucker laughed. “You guys got too many hangups. That’s why you can’t get girls.” “Man, fuck you, I get girls.” “Not like me,” Mucker said. He pursed his lips, kissing the air. He frowned down at Avery, whose lips formed a tight seal around his veiny shaft. “I bet you guys get blowjobs like this, all nice and shit. Right?” He demonstrated making sweet love, moaning and smiling as he humped the back of Avery’s throat. He screwed up his face again, pretending out like a romantic loverboy, making kisses at a girl. The sight of Mucker’s undulating chest muscles beneath his torn black t-shirt made Avery’s dick twitch in his hand. He slurped the sweat off Mucker’s shaft, making the sound as loud and moist as possible. “That’s not how to fuck,” Mucker said. “Don’t be nice like that, you gotta do it hard. Girls don’t like it like that. Girls want you to plow ’em hard.” He powerfully rammed Avery’s face to demonstrate — it wasn’t violent, like daggering, but he undulated his hips, grinding his dick deep into Avery’s throat. When Avery choked, Mucker clucked his tongue and kept pushing. “You ain’t some kinda gigolo, Mucker-“ “I been with more girls than you,” Mucker said with a cocky snort, still plowing Avery’s throat gently. “Trust me. Girls love it like this.” He smiled at his buddies, who fidgeted with the beat-up old sticker-clad skateboards in their hands. “Like this.” He grabbed the back of Avery’s head, smiled down at him and fed his dick deep into Avery’s throat. When Avery gagged and sputtered, Mucker moaned and pulled away. “See? Ya gotta move your hips-” Pleasure rippled visibly through his powerful chest. “Don’t be more gentle.” Avery croaked and gasped. A few tendrils of spit connected his lip to Mucker’s dick. “What?” “Throat me harder,” Avery said. “Please? Ram my mouth so hard. Turn my throat into your pussy. Make my belly pregnant, man. Your dick is so good. I need more-“ He was interrupted by a torrent of laughter from Bram and Leif. Mucker looked down at Avery with a sour face, like he never thought somebody might want it harder. He gulped, then put on a more serious expression. “Oh, you like it like that, huh? Well, fine, I can always get rougher,” Mucker said with a cocky sneer. He resumed throating Avery down, slamming his dick all the way in. When Avery didn’t struggle — though he did choke and sputter again — Mucker swayed his hips to the side. Avery gagged and swallowed Mucker’s shaft to the root, his nose nuzzling Mucker’s pubes, but Mucker just moaned and shook his head, doing a little mock-orgasm to make his friends laugh. “Damn, maybe I should make men jerk me off more often,” Mucker said with a gasp. He licked his teeth. “Hey, you jerk a lotta guys off?” He pulled off Avery’s mouth, but Avery just gasped for air. He was unable to speak still. Mucker waited patiently with his dick right in front of Avery’s mouth. Spit dripped off the shaft, which Avery stroked with both hands. “Huh? You jerk guys off a lot?” Avery shrugged. “Yeah.” He heaved for air. “You really like it?” “That’s nasty,” Mucker said. He put his dick back in Avery’s mouth and jabbed it around, exploring every corner of his mouth. He touched the inside of Avery’s cheek and his cocktip poked out the side of his face. When he rubbed the tip through Avery’s cheek, he felt the peach-fuzz there, frowned and withdrew his fingers. Precum flowed into Avery’s throat. He guzzled it down, savoring every drop. It tasted funky, like Mucker didn’t shower too regularly — that was perfect for Avery. He loved Mucker’s trashy skater look and the taste of his unwashed body. His precum flowed copiously, coating Avery’s mouth. Avery’s fingers danced up Mucker’s chest, slipping underneath his shirt to grope his toned muscles. “I ain’t say you could touch my chest,” Mucker said. His pecs flexed beneath Avery’s fingers, and Mucker’s whole body turned redder and redder, either from embarrassment or arousal or maybe anger at his buddies or a combination of all three. Taking his mouth away and licking up and down Mucker’s shaft, Avery smiled. “You’re a big strong man. Push my hands away if you don’t want ‘em there.” He tweaked Mucker’s nipples again, hard enough this time that it must have hurt, but he kept going even as Mucker bristled and shifted his weight between his feet. Mucker’s eyes fluttered. He waited a few seconds, but then he did push Avery’s hands away from his nipples. He grunted. His face had turned well ruddy by now, and his eyes were bugging out. His dick twitched, sending out a stream of precum and throbbing against Avery’s tongue. Avery sucked on it like a lollipop. “Hey, put on some music,” Mucker muttered. “I always listen to music when I fuck chicks. Get my phone, Leif — ah, shit, I know, play that ‘Hey Girl, Yo’ Boyfriend Was My Prison Bitch’ song.” Leif laughed as he came forward, then stopped as though there was an invisible ring of yuck around Mucker and Avery. He couldn’t grab the phone Mucker was giving him without coming close. “Uh… Stop moving for a sec,” Leif said. “What? No, man, I’m gettin’ dome over here. Just grab the phone,” Mucker said. As if to demonstrate, he grabbed ahold of Avery’s ears and shook his head, moving it all around on his cock and making Avery gag all over again. His one hand still held the phone out, but he didn’t move any closer to Leif. “There’s… Don’t splash on me, bro. I don’t wanna get too close and-” Leif said. Bram burst into loud guffaws. “Man, don’t be a pussy. What? You never touched a little precum and spit?” “Well… Only my own, man…” “You’re such a pansy. It’s raw and bestial and if you wanna be hardcore, you gotta get past your hangups with it,” Mucker said. He pumped one of his biceps and sneered at Leif. “You’re like some mainstream pop-punk sell-out who-” He yelped in surprise as Avery came off his dick and stood. He sucked on Mucker’s rock-hard, bulging bicep. Mucker gasped. “Uh…” “You gotta get past your hangups, Mucker,” Avery said. He slid his tongue over the stale sweat clinging to Mucker’s strapping upper arm and shoulder. His muscles were firm and hot, salty with old sweat. It didn’t seem Mucker showered a lot. “Oh, yeah… I was just surprised. I mean… I guess you can kiss my arm, or whatever,” Mucker said. Despite his words, he seemed nervous and uncomfortable. His whole body rippled when Avery grabbed his dick with one hand and stroked while he licked Mucker’s tattooed biceps. Mucker smiled wanly. His cock pulsated in Avery’s grip. “See? I, uh… It’s just my body. No big deal.” “Can I kiss you?” Avery asked. “No!” “It’s just your body,” Avery said. He smiled as Bram and Leif laughed. “You said that, Mucker.” “Go for it, freak!” “I mean…” Mucker blushed. His eyes opened wide as he raced to think of a reason. “I just… You haven’t paid for that, that’s it. I would too, I’d say yes. Double it. If you double it, you can kiss me and I’ll ram you in the ass too, I don’t even care.” “Fine.” The alley was filled with silence that lasted for awhile, and Avery kept stroking Mucker’s hardon that whole time. Mucker stammered as his friends howled and clapped. Hey, you punks get outta there! I’ll call the cops! The alley isn’t for you! Get away from my car! “Fuck you, Aarush!” Leif yelled. The convenience store clerk had come out and seen Leif and Bram in the alley near the parked car — the clerk’s car — but Avery was concealed. The dumpster blocked Mucker and Avery from view, so the store clerk probably assumed the skateboarders were skateboarding back here, or maybe preparing to steal his car. He yelled something else but Avery didn’t catch what he said. “I mean… Do you have that much money?” Mucker asked. He sighed. “I only have three hundred dollars cash on me,” Avery said. “But I’ll give you that and buy you a skateboard with my credit card.” Mucker flared his nostrils. It was clear he hadn’t considered this possibility. This was in a very poor section of Long Beach, which was entirely poor to begin with. Mucker, it seemed, assumed that six hundred dollars was way beyond what Avery could pay. But he could really use a new skateboard. “Uh… Fine.” Mucker hung his head. His dick still spewed precum into Avery’s hand. “Wait, more!” “What?” “Uh… I can’t think of what, but when we go to the store, you gotta buy more than just the skateboard. Like… a t-shirt, or something. Or whatever, not that.” It sounded like Mucker was too nervous to think of anything else for sale in the skater store. Leif spoke up. “Get us a new bong, man.” “Oh, yeah, a bong! A nice one. A big one!” “Not a big one, man, they suck! They waste so much weed!” Leif said. “Fine, a small bong. And a big bong. One of each. And some rolling papers. And a lighter. Two lighters.” “Sure. Whatever you boys want,” Avery said. He smiled. Then, before Mucker could think of more things to add to the list, Avery kissed him right on the lips. Mucker’s whole body tensed. Bram and Leif erupted in howling peals of laughter. Mucker stood straight as an arrow. He submitted to Avery’s hands roaming up his chest now, caressing his trembling muscles. Avery’s tongue plunged into Mucker’s mouth. Mucker didn’t move a muscle, but Avery still loved the taste of his nervous boy spit. He battered every inch of Mucker’s mouth with his tongue, then, all in one smooth motion, pulled away and lifted Mucker’s shirt off with both hands. His powerful, ropy-muscled body was heavily tattooed, with anarchy symbols and Gothic lettering. He closed his eyes as Avery licked the sweat off his chest, teasing his sternum and his nipples. He massaged Mucker’s back muscles, and his hands slid down to grope his firm asscheeks. “Shut the fuck up,” Mucker muttered at his friends when they continued to react as though a man-on-man kiss was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. Mucker scoffed and regained his composure. “It’s not a big deal. What’s going on with that music, Leif?” But Leif wasn’t paying attention, still holding Mucker’s phone in one hand. Mucker shook his head and sighed. He looked confident, but Avery could feel and taste his anxiety in the way his muscles rippled beneath Avery’s tongue. Leif chuckled. “So is this what girls like, man? You sellin’ yourself for a new lighter?” “Two new lighters-” Bram said. “Man, fuck you both!” Mucker roared. He took a deep drag on his cigarette as though he didn’t care about Avery licking his chest, tracing an outline of his muscles and his tattoos. Mucker scoffed. “Girls like everything I do, man, cuz I got game.” He jabbed a finger over Avery’s head at Leif and Bram. “You got game? Yeah, right…” “Girls don’t like everything you do. Remember that skateboard trick?” Leif asked. “What skateboard trick?” Bram and Leif both laughed and tried to tell the story at the same time. They remained on the far side of the alley though. They shushed each other, but eventually Leif’s voice overpowered Bram’s. “It was last Halloween. This fucking idiot was drunk and trying to impress a girl-“ “I was not trying to impress anyone, it was just a-“ “Shut up, Mucker. He was trying to impress this girl, who wasn’t even hot. She-“ “She was hot!” “She had a butterface, bro, and not a good one. You had beer goggles. Or malt liquor goggles, whatever,” Leif said. “He balanced his skateboard on his cock.” Avery giggled. “What?” “I saw it on YouTube, fuck you all!” Mucker said. He blushed and growled down at Avery. His cock pulsated in Avery’s hand, as he watched Avery lick up and down his powerful chest. “He got his dick hard in the bushes, then showed up at the beach bonfire where everyone was sitting, and he put the skateboard on its side on his cock. He thought everyone would be impressed he could hold a skateboard with his dick.” “That is impressive,” Avery said. “He had it on the top of his cock, leaning against his body,” Bram said. “The girls ran out of there like it was a fuckin’ tornado,” Leif said, laughing so hard his face turned red. “Even fucking Edna left, and she’s the biggest slut in the world. Biggest both literally and figuratively.” The funniest part of the story was how embarrassed Mucker was by it. It even deflated his erection a little. It was clear he prided himself on his success with women, so this story was a major blow to his self-image. He screwed up his face at Leif and Bram. “That’s… whatever, man, whatever…” Mucker muttered. He bit his lip. It looked like, if Leif was close enough, Mucker would have punched him. But he’d have to pull Avery off his muscle worship of Mucker’s body. “Let me see it.” Avery said. “Girls will always think that is gross and weird. But I’ll be impressed. Lemme see it.” Mucker smiled, ignoring his friends’ snickering. He grabbed his ratty old skateboard and stroked his own cock to be sure it was fully hard. Then he gingerly balanced it on his shaft. As Bram said, he leaned it against his flat belly. “Man, only old dudes are impressed by it.” “That is so stupid.” Bram laughed so hard he choked a little. “Shut up, guys,” Mucker put the skateboard down — he only balanced it for a few seconds, so it wasn’t really that impressive — and wiped some dirt off his dickshaft. “You want me in your ass, let’s do it. Come on. Bend over and grab your ankles. You want something to bite down on?” He snarled and barked like a Marine in basic training. He flexed his biceps. When Avery didn’t bend over fast enough, Mucker forced him into position. Avery did bend all the way over to grab his own ankles — that was an awkward position for him, but he wanted to do whatever Mucker ordered. He wanted to make this feel so good Mucker demanded more. Mucker inhaled sharply as he pushed his dick in. He sighed as soon as the first half-inch or so was inside, as though he was worried he wouldn’t be able to do it and was relieved he got at least this far. He took a deep breath and kept working it in. Then he closed his eyes. He kept his face angled deeper into the alley so he didn’t have to watch his own dick slide into Avery’s ass. Avery had to bend awkwardly over while using both hands to separate his cheeks and guide Mucker’s dick in. “Cornhole him!” “Here it is, bro,” Leif said. He fidgeted with the phone, then a pounding techno bassline came out. The sound was tinny and faint, but Mucker modified his humping to fit the beat. The only words Avery could make out was I’m gonna fuck you, girl, like I rammed your boyfriend in prison. That sounded hot, so Avery made a mental note to look up the video when he got home. I swear to God, you fuckers, I called the police! You can’t skateboard back there! The clerk barked from the store door, still not coming close enough to see what happened on the far side of the dumpster. “Fuck you, Aarush! We’re not skateboarding!” Leif yelled. He came to the edge of the alley and bellowed. “We’re doing… something else.” He paused and chuckled. “We’re making money. We’re exchanging services for money.” “Yeah, we’re doing capitalism, Aarush!” Bram called out. Are you selling drugs? You boys get outta there! You’re gonna get arrested. You’re all going to jail. Avery looked up and made a nervous face, but Mucker waved him off. Mucker’s cheeks were red as he began to ram harder and harder, losing his anxiety the more he rammed, deeper and deeper with each thrust into Avery’s ass. “Don’t worry, they won’t send you to jail,” Mucker said. “And it takes the cops like an hour to get here.” Bram chuckled. “He’d probably like it if he went to jail with us.” “Oh yeah, you’d get all weekend to molest us.” Mucker slapped Avery’s ass and pounded. He grunted as his balls thwacked loudly against Avery’s thighs. Avery groaned. Pangs of pleasure and pain rang up his spine. Bent over and grabbing his ankles was a difficult position, but he loved it, and he could tell that Mucker liked it too. Mucker’s shirtless chest writhed, his strapping muscles gleaming as they had become covered with a sheen of sweat. He had a nice, plump, thick cock that was plenty difficult to take but not so big that it actually hurt. Avery moaned and spread his cheeks, allowing Mucker to demolish his ass. Mucker used every ounce of power in his lithe body, slamming his entire weight down to ram Avery’s ass as hard as he could. Meanwhile, Leif continued to yell back and forth with Aarush, whose stentorian voice filled the air. Avery couldn’t hear any of their words, he just heard the tenor of their shouting match. The feeling of that massive cock in his ass ripping him apart made Avery scream as he reached orgasm. “Aw, fuck!!!” Avery was so loud so suddenly that it made Mucker jump in surprise. It also made his ass clench around Mucker’s dick, which was, it seemed, enough to send Mucker over the edge as well. Jizz jetted into Avery’s ass. Avery lifted his head, throwing himself back on Mucker’s body, as his booty filled up with Mucker’s creamy seed. He leaned his head back as pleasure coursed through his veins, spurts of cum landing in his ass. Avery stuck his tongue out and licked sweat up off Mucker’s trembling neck. Hey, Mucker, they’re early! 5-O! Leif’s voice rang out. It felt very distant to Avery, whose mind didn’t process the flashing siren lights he saw reflected off the side of the dumpster. The cops were here! “Ah, shit, shit,” Mucker said breathlessly. “I’ll distract ‘em, just hurry up,” Bram said. He jogged away from the alley, seemingly glad to get away from the sordid scene. Mucker and Avery both sighed. Mucker’s eyes were closed, and his cock spasmed as it shot out his last few drops of cum. His muscles pulsated against Avery’s smooth back. They could have stayed like that for an eternity. Avery wouldn’t have minded. He greatly enjoyed the feel of Mucker’s post-orgasmic cock, still hard but limpening quickly, inside his ass, while he sucked sweat off Mucker’s tattooed muscles. But the sound of police officers demanding information out by the store made Avery and Mucker jump into action. As Mucker withdrew his cock, Avery opened his mouth and kissed him on the lips. Mucker jumped again, but submitted, just for a moment. Avery sucked on his lips and passionately slathered kisses all over Mucker’s face. Mucker pushed him away. “Okay, you got your shit. You got what you paid for,” Mucker said. He wiped his lips off. “Bro… Fuck, bro… Fuck…” He glanced down the alley and pulled his pants up without bothering to wipe his dick off. He put his shirt on. He shook his head and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Gimme that three hundred later, the cops’ll just think we’re selling drugs if they see me with that kind of cash. I was back here showing you moves on my skateboard, okay? You’re… a journalist or something, okay? Doing a piece on me cuz I’m like, the best skateboarder in the county.” Hey! Is someone else back there in the alley? Come on out with your hands up. “Okay,” Avery said. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t worried about this situation. He knew enough to know how to handle the cops. He waited for Mucker to go first, so Avery could watch his ass, hugged by boxers and revealed by his sagging dirty jeans. Avery licked his lips and followed, hands in the air. Keep your hands up, boys! You got anything sharp in your pockets? He sighed. This definitely hadn’t ended how he’d hoped it was going to go.
He saw a stranger, a young buck of a redneck in overalls with paint and grass stains covering the fabric. He wore no shirt, revealing a broad, ruddy and work-toned chest. He had on heavy work-boots stained with mud. His dirty blond hair was long and scraggly. Then he cleared his throat and spoke, in a deep, lowcountry South Carolina accent, but sounding like he was trying to speak as politely as he could.
When bikers fill up Avery’s town, he isn’t sure how to react. Then one studly alpha catches his eye, and before Avery knows it, he’s made an offer the biker is too horny to turn down!
Can Avery get that macho biker to stop scaring the customers away from his store?!
Avery sighed as motorcycles whizzed past outside his flower shop. He wasn’t even sure he should bother to be open today — there was a biker festival just down the street, so Avery’s hometown was temporarily home to thousands of bikers. They roared by, engines rumbling like dragons. He didn’t think they were likely to buy very many flowers. But as long as they were around, not many people were out on the street, and no one was out shopping for things like flowers. So it had killed his business for the day. Oh no, there’s one right outside… Avery’s heart fluttered for a couple reasons. Firstly, the biker milling about had an incredible physique, and he sent Avery’s blood into overdrive. Second, he was scary, and he made Avery want to run and hide. Third, he was intimidating and his presence would guarantee that no customers came into the shop today. But Avery couldn’t decide whether to run in fear or call the police or ask to jerk him off. This biker looked like he might consider it with the right persuasion. He was swarthy-skinned, with an old-fashioned mustache that was well-groomed atop a beard that was scruffy and poorly-groomed. He wore a series of black clothes — they blended in, in layers, so much that it was hard to tell how many shirts, vests and patches he wore. But above it all was a sterling black leather jacket, under which his chest was broad. His hair was long and curly, in a jet-black mullet that piled up behind his neck. Was he dangerous? He certainly didn’t look safe. But Avery would feel like an asshole if he called the police on some random man who wasn’t a threat. He’d look like a fool too — this town was full of bikers; the cop would tell Avery that a lot of people are going to look rough today and he should try to relax, it would be patronizing and humiliating. But Avery didn’t want him hanging out in front of the store. There was no way anyone would come in to buy flowers if they had to go past this biker. Sure enough, as though intending to demonstrate it, the biker scowled at two nice ladies walking past. “Smile, lady, c’mon,” said the biker, his voice a low throaty growl. “You’d be prettier if ya smiled.” The women just quickened their pace and kept going. The biker watched and lit a cigarette. Avery took a deep breath. He thought he needed to go out there and do something. He didn’t know what, but it needed to be something. He went out there without a second thought. The biker turned to look at him. “Hey, uh, so, I got-“ The biker grunted. “I ain’t stayin’.” A long pause filled the air, and Avery blushed. This biker was thickly built, and he reeked of engine oil and stale sweat — not like he was sweaty, but more like it had soaked into the black leather of his biker jacket. “I’m sorry?” “You came out here to stay I can’t hang out in front of ya store, right?” The biker peered inside the window. He scoffed. “Fuckin’ flowers… You know there’s an Internet, right? You can buy flowers online. Probably.” “Some people like buying flowers in stores.” The biker rolled his eyes. “Well, I ain’t stayin’ so don’t worry. My bike gots a pro’lem and it ain’t runnin’, boy.” He pointed to a motorcycle parked on the side of the road. “Waitin’ for my buddy to show up wit’ some tools.” “Oh, uh, well, do you have to wait right here in front of my door?” “You want me to buy somethin’? I ain’t got shit for cash, man. I got ‘bout five bucks to my name, not countin’ what I needs for gas to get home, and beer — you best believe I ain’t goin’ wit’out beer at the festival, boy, swear to God, I’ll box ya goddamn ears.” “Oh, well… I dunno, I don’t, uh… my flowers are all more expensive, uh, than…” Avery’s voice trailed off because the biker glared at him, eyes drilling into his soul. Avery cleared his throat. “Whatchoo want? Why you still talkin’ to me?” “I, uh…” Avery cleared his throat. “I thought… uh… maybe-“ “Get it out, boy,” the biker said. He grabbed Avery by the chin, his callused fingers rubbing over Avery’s smooth skin. Avery went pale. “I wanted, uh-“ “I ain’t a pervert,” the biker said, chewing on his lip as he forced Avery to look him in the eye. His hot breath condensed on Avery’s lips — it was virtually a kiss. Avery instinctively reached out and touched the man’s chest for support, holding onto his powerful body. He sensed curly chest hairs underneath those layers of biker gear. “Good…” Avery’s voice was a mousy squeak. The biker laughed, a harsh and guttural sound. It didn’t sound like a real laugh, more like he wanted Avery to think he was laughing at him. Still he was so close they nearly kissed. Then, they did. The biker pecked Avery right on the lips. He tasted of cigarettes and smog, and he guffawed at the shocked look on Avery’s face. He shoved Avery against the wall in front of his door. “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll be gone toot-sweet, my dear,” the biker said. “Just as soon as my buddy shows up wit’ his tools.” Avery blushed and went back into his shop. His hands were clenched into fists as a torrent of confusing emotions enveloped him — he was angry, humiliated, aroused, mollified, eager, offended and frightened all at once. But it was his hard dick that made him struggle the most to keep focus. He tried to do his inventory — he’d be meaning to do that anyway, and it was easier now that no one was in the shop. But he kept finding himself looking out the window at the biker. It was during such a moment, when Avery lifted his face, that he saw the biker leaning casually against the parking meter in front of the shop. He had raised his ass up — cradled by mud-splattered black jeans which were speckled with pale bleach spots — and shook it subtly. He turned around and guffawed again, looking in the dark window. It was impossible to see in past the display case in the window, because Avery had purchased very dark glass (he hated glare). The biker had been performing like that for some time, laughing at what he imagined Avery was doing. He turned around and grabbed his dick through his jeans, showing off its size and heft and aiming it towards the window. For the first time, Avery wondered if this biker actually wanted something from him. He was so used to needing to make the first move on a fresh slice of rough trade, he didn’t always think of the possibility that they wanted to do it too, that they were trying to make him do it. They wouldn’t just ask. The biker paced in front of the shop. After awhile, he stopped teasing Avery through the window. He stroked his scraggly beard hairs and alternated between leaning on his motorcycle, catcalling at women and mean-mugging men. Finally, the biker checked his phone, threw his hands in the air and came in. He looked at Avery as though trying to gauge whether or not he had noticed what he did out there. Avery kept his face stony and expressionless. “My battery’s dead. I don’t think my buddy’s coming,” the biker said. He growled. “You got a outlet?” He looked around until he found an outlet, then plugged his phone charger in before Avery could answer. “Uh… So…-“ “You don’t talk much, huh?” “Hmmm… No.” Avery blushed. “I, uh.. Well, maybe, I like… Sometimes, I talk more… I’m not exactly shy, but-“ “Uh-huh, yeah.” The biker waited for something he didn’t say out loud. His dark eyes looked Avery over. “What’s ya name, boy?” “Avery.” “I’m Cooter.” He absent-mindedly rifled through some flowers by the counter. “You, uh… you got work? I gotta get my bike fixed. I ain’t, y’know… a flower-buyin’ kinda guy. But I got, y’know… skills, in like… other shit.” “Hmmm… Like what?” Avery asked. He was now more confident that Cooter wanted to get paid to let Avery jerk him off. Avery had been around long enough to sense it radiating off him. “Well… I learned how to cook in prison. I know you ain’t a restaurant or nothin’, but you know…” Cooter laughed that dry, throaty laugh. “I can’t really cook. I can cook spaghetti for like six hundred guys, but I always fuck it up cooking for just me.” He bit his lip. “I ain’t got no skills, ‘kay? Least, not no legal ones. You want me to cook up some meth?” Avery blushed. “No…” “You scared of me, huh, boy? Don’t let me bein’ in prison scare you neither, I ain’t never stab no one who ain’t deserve it.” He paused. “I mean, that ain’t strictly true, lemme be honest wit’ ya, I gotta be honest under God’s watchful eye, right? Lemme be honest, I did done stab this one bitch on account of he was lookin’ at me wrong, but he turned out to be a child molester anyhow. I ain’t know that then, so, y’know… it’s questionable, that’s all I’m sayin’.” “Right… Uh… cool…” Avery was finding it very hard to concentrate. He was positive Cooter wanted to be paid for a swing on his dick. He even grabbed his cock through his jeans. Avery was overwhelmed by fear and desire, and the scent of his asphalt-reeking leather jacket — he had fallen off his motorcycle enough that the blacktop had been ground into the leather. His limbs even vibrated a little like he still imagined himself atop his motorcycle. “You lookin’ like you wanna say somethin’ but you too scared. Huh? You scared, boy?” He spoke more softly and touched Avery’s cheek, pinching it like a grandmother. Though he seemed to be trying to be less intimidating, it only came across as even more frightening. “Umm… Yeah.” Cooter rolled his eyes. “Man, I ain’t a prideful fella.” He got down on his knees and lowered his eyes. “See? Now you taller ‘an me, and you ain’t gotta look me in the eye. So whatchoo think? You know a way I can earn some money? Maybe I got some skills I learn in prison you might enjoy.” “Well… Maybe. I, uh… I was kind of hoping, that, uh… maybe-” Avery caught a glimpse of Cooter’s eyes when he glanced up, and Avery blushed. “I…” “Ah, man, I done scare you, huh? You wanna punch me? You might feel better ‘bout it if you punched me?” Cooter reached up and touched Avery’s lips. He pulled his tongue out of his mouth. “What’s wrong? I know you got words on ya tongue. You prolly got all kinda… remnants on ya tongue. You got remnants of different activities on there? I bet you do all kinda things with that tongue. That’s a nice, big, wet tongue. I could come up wit’ lots of activities you could do wit’ that if we shared a cell.” He chuckled. “But we don’t. So you gotta come up wit’ them activities, and you gots to pay, boy. You ready to pay?” He leaned back and shrugged off his jacket. “Go’n, punch me, it’ll make you feel better.” “I, uh… I don’t want to.” Avery felt weak and tinny. “Then what do you want to do?” Cooter closed his eyes. “You just lemme know.” He pursed his lips like he was kissing the air. “Or you can just do it.” Avery couldn’t resist it. He planted his lips on Cooter’s. Just like the kiss out on the sidewalk, it lasted only a moment, and it was chaste and dry. As soon as Avery’s tongue tried to enter Cooter’s mouth, Cooter pushed him away. “I ain’t kissin’ a feller,” Cooter said. “So use ya words and make me an offer.” “I’ll… I’d like you to cornhole me,” Avery said with a blush. “How much?” “One hundred dollars-“ Cooter stood and went to the cash register. He shook it open and counted out more than three hundred dollars from the till — including the twenties and fifties that were under the drawer. “It just so happens, boy, that my price for that is exactly three hundred twenty-seven dollars. That is a mighty coincidence on account of that’s the amount you got in the till.” He paused. “And get me some flowers.” “What?” “I need flowers. Somethin’ classy, for an old lady. For my great-aunt. Her birthday is Monday.” “Oh, uh… Well, we have this one, it’s very nice-“ “Just gimme the goddamn flowers, asshole,” he said with a snarl. He grabbed the bouquet out of Avery’s hand. He didn’t even look at it, he just set the bouquet down by the door. “Alright.” He stood there by the shop counter. “Well? You gonna start jerkin’ or what? Don’t even try to make me take no dick, lemme tell you. I don’t do that shit.” “I… Can we go up to my apartment?” Avery asked. He locked the store door. “Fine.” Cooter sighed. “Let’s go.” Avery brought him into the back of the shop, which led to a stairwell. It was narrow and humid here, with spiderwebs in each corner of the ceiling. The dust was visible in the rays of late afternoon sunlight that filled the air. Cooter placed one hand on Avery’s ass. He gripped his jeans by the waistband and held on, preventing Avery from taking the next step up the staircase. He let out a growl and grinned when Avery turned around. Avery’s heart raced. Was he going to punch him? Was he going to rob him? (More than he already sort of had?) “Lotta folks think that, in prison, you ramrod a man in the shower, or you ramrod a man in ya cell, or whatever, ya feel me?” He passed Avery, standing higher than him on the stairs, and when Avery was too engrossed to respond — overwhelmed still by the awkward situation — he took Avery’s hand and placed it on his belly. His muscles rippled. “Ya feel me now?” “Uh-huh.” “But in fact, there’s guards in the shower, and there’s cameras in ya cell, and you ain’t allowed to ram, boy, they’ll stop you on account of it’s a law. So when the pressure get too much and you gots to ram, you do it somewhere else. Like in a hallway, or in the stairwell or some shit,” Cooter said. “So I wanna do it here.” He put both hands on Avery’s head and pushed him to his knees. Avery was too short to reach Cooter’s crotch like this. Cooter was a few steps higher than Avery, so he had to sit on the stairs and spread his legs wide. He unceremoniously unzipped his jeans and let a darkly tan cock flop out. It was thick and meaty, still limp but Avery could tell when he got close that it had been half-hard recently, maybe even fully erect. Cooter had definitely been trying to get a nut off for awhile. “Hey…” He grabbed Avery by the hair, just at the moment Avery wrapped his lips around the tip of his funky cock. “A man’s gotta take whatever affection he can get.” Cooter pulled Avery’s head up, kissed him on the lips and rammed his tongue into his mouth. Avery squealed and squirmed in surprise. His hands clawed at Cooter’s chest, which was hard like iron beneath his leather clothes. Avery’s tongue tasted like cigarettes and steel, and it was huge, so it filled up Avery’s mouth. Avery’s hands wrapped around Cooter’s shoulders, and for a moment, they made intense, passionate love with their mouths. Just a moment though. Once Avery got over his shock and awe, and started kissing Cooter back, Cooter let go and pushed him back down to his crotch. “Jerk me off, boy,” Cooter said. “And don’t try to kiss me no more. I don’t kiss boys.” “Oh… … Uh… Sorry,” Avery said. He lowered his head to his crotch, while Cooter lit another cigarette and took his shirts off. Avery suckled on his cocktip — he had gotten fully erect while being kissed — and looked up at his face and his bare chest. Cooter was covered in tattoos, and a few scars. There was a bullet wound on his belly, and an oddly-shaped dragon over his heart — Avery soon realized it was oddly-shaped because it covered up a swastika that had been carved into his chest. His dick tasted like sweat and industrial soap, and it was firm, veiny, throbbing like a motorcycle engine as it rubbed against Avery’s tongue. Cooter gripped Avery by the ears, dragging his head up and down on his shaft. “Open wide, boy…” Soon, Cooter stood, still using both hands on Avery’s ears and his lips to keep the lit cigarette in his mouth. He swayed his hips, grinding his dick in deep. He didn’t ram Avery’s throat in an aggressive or mean way, not like a lot of alphas did — Avery wouldn’t have minded — he made sweet love to his throat. He didn’t stop when Avery choked, but he wasn’t violent about it either. He just clucked his tongue and kept on plowing. Soon his balls smacked and rubbed against Avery’s chin. Cooter took a deep drag on his cigarette. He let go of Avery’s head, watching him slide up and down on his moistened shaft. “Hmmm… You want me to stick you, boy?” Avery nodded without taking Cooter’s dick out of his mouth. He suckled moistly, slurping down every drop of salty precum he could find. He kept slurping even as Cooter tried to pull his head off. Avery giggled — he liked the frustrated look on Cooter’s face. Cooter snarled and bent Avery over on the stairs. Since they faced opposite directions, Cooter had to go over Avery to be lower than him on the narrow staircase. He could have stepped around Avery’s body to get beneath him, but instead he sat on his back and rubbed his hairy ass — laughing the whole way — until he was lower on the staircase. “You like my ass-slide, boy,” Cooter said. He chuckled. “Now, I am guessin’ this is prolly implied, but lemme be totally clear, son, when we are done here, you ain’t gonna never tell no one ‘bout it. Not the police, not ya priest, ya rabbi, not some other biker you might jerk off a couple hours from now, or a couple decades from now. If’n you ever even think ‘bout tellin’ folks what’s ‘bout to happen, I will bury you in wet cement and I’ll send ya mama a rude limerick describin’ how you died, ya feel me?” “I won’t tell, I would never-“ “Good.” Cooter didn’t wait for a second. He jammed his dick in, just the tip at first. He grabbed Avery by the hair and held his head in place as Avery howled in pain. Cooter waited for him to stop, with just the first inch or so of his dick in Avery’s ass. “You ready?” “Yeah. Just go slow.” Cooter wrapped one of his well-muscled arms around Avery’s throat. Again, he didn’t choke him, but he held on firmly enough he did slightly restrict his breathing. As he did, he pistoned his dick in farther, ignoring Avery’s intense writhing. “Goddamn!” Avery cried out. “Hmmm… You ready to get started?” Cooter asked, whispering in his ears. “Here’s the skills I learned in prison, boy. Don’t you nevuh let no one know.” He kissed Avery again, and he rammed his tongue into his mouth. Meanwhile his other hand roamed lower and lower on Avery’s chest, then his belly, then to his crotch. He held onto Avery’s cock with one hand, while his other kept Avery’s head upright. It took all of Avery’s concentration just to balance on the stairs, even with Cooter holding him in place. “Good boy, good boy, keep that ass high, keep it up there, I’m goin’ deep now!” Cooter called out and moaned. He whooped like a cowboy. “You feel me? Huh? You like that? Say somethin’.” “Yeah… Fill me up.” Avery couldn’t say much. He gasped. If he had been jacking himself off, he’d have cum already. But Cooter’s hand was callused and he stroked in a disrhythmic way, somewhat uncomfortable, more like a farmer masturbating his livestock than someone who genuinely wanted to give a reacharound, though the medley of moans and grunts that moistly emanated from his mouth sounded authentically desirous. “You gonna nut? Tell me when you nut, I wanna hear it. Lemme hear you say it. Use my name, okay? Say ‘Cooter is makin’ me nut cuz he so handsome’, okay? Say that.” “Cooter… is making… me nut cuz… he’s so… handsome…” Avery moaned and squirmed. He would have collapsed onto his belly but Cooter held him tightly in position. “Good… I can feel ya nut, don’t worry, I don’t mind you nuttin’ on my hand, ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ that,” he said. He kept on stroking as Avery’s face turned red. Then, just before cum actually sprayed from Avery’s dick, Cooter again kissed him on the lips from behind. He rammed hard then. He had waited for that — he loved plowing men who orgasmed with his cock in their ass. He could feel that orgasm in how Avery clenched around his dick, and in the gasping that was swallowed up by Cooter’s bicep. His tongue slathered spit over Avery’s lips and cheeks, as Cooter reached his own orgasm and couldn’t quite kiss anymore — it felt so good he shuddered and shook, and his tongue lolled over Avery’s face. Cooter loved having his bottom all wrapped up in his arms so he could keep him right at the perfect level, swallowing up his dick and every drop of cum. His balls crawled up in his sac as he filled Avery with his creamy load. It was thick and hot, and it seeped in Avery’s flesh. It trickled through his body more and more with each thrust of Cooter’s manhood into him. “You okay, boy? Say you okay, and I’ll take my dick out. Tell me whatchoo think,” Cooter said. “I… I loved that,” Avery said through gritted teeth. The moist pressure was intense in his ass, and it made him buck in Cooter’s arms. “Okay, when I pull out, remember, nothing happened here today. No strokin’, no reachin’ around nobody’s delicate body that could be so easily smashed to pieces. No talking ‘bout nothin’ nasty, okay? Rammin’ ain’t a topic of conversation. It’s somethin’ that only happened as long as we’re in this stairwell. When we’re done… I robbed you. If any bikers asked, I grabbed the money outta ya cash register. If any cops ask, you smash ‘em in the face with a whiskey bottle and don’t say a goddamn word. Ya understand?” Avery nodded. “I, uh… if a cop — ah-” He sighed as Cooter finally pulled his cock out. “If a cop asks, I won’t hit him, I mean…” He sighed again and collapsed on the stairs. “I won’t tell him either, I just, I don’t feel comfortable attacking a cop-“ “Shut up, boy. I was kiddin’.” Cooter wiped his dick off on Avery’s asscheeks, then tucked it back in his pants. He put his clothes on and walked out of the stairwell. “Hey, gimme yo’ phone number, boy.” “Okay…” Cooter smiled that harsh, intimidating smile. His mustache quivered. “If’n I don’t find a female who gonna give up the booty tonight, I’ll come over and Avery you again. Have some cash ready.” “Okay.” Avery was breathless, eyes wide as he watched Cooter leave. Cooter grabbed his pack with the flower for his great-aunt in it and his phone from the outlet, then walked out the door. Avery breathed a sigh of relief. And he turned over the “open” sign to read “closed”.
Avery could use a handyman, and lucky for him, a white-trash alpha comes by looking for work. That means Avery is in for another wild ride of hardcore, man-on-man action with this studly but desperate semi-homeless beggar!
Is Avery ready for Thomas’s brand of redneck action?!
Avery sighed as he looked over the mess he had made. The bed-frame was together in two pieces, with a pile of extra screws near his feet. The extra screws were problematic, he thought, because there were some of a type he had not used at all — why would the furniture-makers have put an unnecessarily long screw in the box? But there were no screw holes he had missed, and he had even read through the directions. They didn’t make a lot of sense though. Extra screws would make sense, in case some got lost. But why would there be a whole nother kind of screw that wasn’t used? Maybe they got mixed in from a different product? Now he wasn’t sure how to get the two parts of the bed-frame together. The box said one person could put it together in ten minutes, but it had taken more than an hour and Avery no longer thought he could do it alone — somebody needed to hold the frame in position while he screwed in the last four screws. He cursed at himself and sat down, deciding to take a break. He didn’t need a bed-frame at all, he reminded himself. He had slept on a mattress on the floor for years, and he didn’t think it was absolutely necessary to have a bed-frame. The doorbell rang and Avery was so startled he jumped. He glanced out the living room window. He saw a stranger, a young buck of a redneck in overalls with paint and grass stains covering the fabric. He wore no shirt, revealing a broad, ruddy and work-toned chest. He had on heavy work-boots stained with mud. His dirty blond hair was long and scraggly. He opened the door. The redneck opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Avery got the impression he paused because he was surprised to see a man and maybe was reconsidering what he came here for. Then he cleared his throat and spoke, in a deep, lowcountry South Carolina accent, but sounding like he was trying to speak as politely as he could. “Uh, hello… sir, my name is Thomas, and I’s here fer askin’ fo’ work. I ain’t goin’ on the welfare but I needs to make me a little money.” He blushed. “Mah family’s farm, it ain’t workin’ no mo’. We ain’t got a dime.” Avery smiled. “I’m sorry to hear that, Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Avery,” he said. “It just so happens I could use a hand with something right now.” Thomas smiled nervously and stepped in when Avery motioned for him. Thomas sighed. “I can work for a you, no problem- I respec’ e’rybody, and I does good work, I do, as the Bible commands. I got the Lord-“ Avery nodded and shook his hand, interrupting him because he could tell Thomas was the kind of gibbering redneck who never stopped talking. Avery smiled. “Well, Thomas, there’s a couple things I could have you do,” Avery said. “I’m good with tools, and my hands. I can build all kinds of things, sir.” “I’m sure you’re great with your hands, and I do have some work like that for you to do,” Avery said. “But first, I just want you to stand there for a minute. Okay?” He nodded, but watched Avery warily as Avery shut the front door. Then Avery approached him and grabbed at his dick through the rough denim of his overalls. Thomas stiffed and gasped in shock, but he kept it subtle — he must really need the money, Avery thought. His toes curled as he blushed but submitted to Avery’s fingering of his cockshaft. “I do have something that needs to be done with the hand,” Avery said. He intended to continue talking, to say that he wanted to give Thomas a handjob. But then Thomas nervously reached out to Avery’s jeans and grabbed at his crotch. Avery gulped. Apparently, Thomas had interpreted his words to mean that he was supposed to give Avery a handjob — Avery would never have guessed Thomas would agree to that, so he hadn’t even thought of asking, but now he decided to play along. “Good, good boi. You is good wit’ yo’ hands,” Avery said, accentuating his accent to match Thomas’s redneck dialect. Thomas winced as his hand reached into Avery’s jeans to grab his cock. He let go as soon as he touched it, then picked it up again. Thomas giggled as though he was a little boy dared into doing something scandalous. “Just so’s you know, sir, this ain’t the first time I jacked off a man,” Thomas said. He beamed as though he was proud of that. “That’s good,” Avery said. “You ain’t the first redneck I messed with neither.” He sniffed. “I ‘spect not.” His meat was limp. It had initially stirred but as Avery reached under the man’s overalls to finger it, he lost it — he must have been disgusted by touching Avery’s dick. He blushed when Avery took out his massive meat, which was ruddy like his shoulders. “I ain’t circlejerked in a long time… ‘s hard to get a stiffy with a man touchin’ me.” Avery angled his hips so his cock touched Thomas’s. They sword-fought, which made Thomas frown and furrow his brow. As he relaxed, he got hard all over again, and in no time he was jabbing his dick at Avery like a club. Thomas’s cock was much longer and thicker, which probably helped him feel more comfortable with this, Avery thought, and it was veinier too, rougher beneath Avery’s fingers, already pulsating with the youthful vigor of Thomas’s sexuality. Then Avery wrapped both of Thomas’s hands around both cocks, so he could masturbate them both at once. Thomas looked down like a mad scientist alarmed at what his creation was doing. Thomas’s muscles all tightened at once and then didn’t loosen. He stayed flexed. Precum coated Thomas’s fingers. Avery figured it must have been his own because Thomas had just gotten hard moments ago, but Avery scooped some up without stopping Thomas’s strokes. The precum stuck to his fingers, which he sucked clean, much to Thomas’s disgust. More precum leaked out and coated Thomas’s hand down to his wrist. “You into that?” He paused. “For real?” Avery nodded with a wry smile. “I appreciate the male form,” he said. He gave Thomas’s cock a firm squeeze. “Some parts more than others.” “Well, shit… You know the Bible say not to do that, right? I feels obligated to tell you that, boy,” Thomas said. “You should only e’xperience ‘rousal in the context of a marital spouse.” He was stroking both cocks slowly now, peering down into Avery’s face as he did. His own cock was hard, but not rock-hard, he was too distracted. Avery, on the other hand, was going to bust anytime. A wave of pleasure battered his body, and he probably would have cum already if not for Thomas’s awkward grip and slow strokes. Avery’s dick pulsated next to Thomas’s. Avery had trouble speaking since he was so close to orgasm. All he could focus on was the hot slab of redneck meat throbbing against his own cock. He smelled sunlight and hay emanating from Thomas’s burly body and the dirty overalls he had unbuttoned. “I done this before,” Thomas said, licking his lips. “I circlejerked a couple times, back in the day.” He grunted. “I’s just lettin’ you know cuz I ain’t a saint, I done sin in the premarital fashion too. I done got overcomed by desire, for sh’ore, for sh’ore! The Lord Jesus does forgive.” “Really?” Avery asked, genuinely surprised by that. Thomas nodded, barely stroking both dicks together anymore, but he did grip them, and the callused grip of his workaday hands sent thrills of desire up Avery’s spine. Avery cleared his throat and said, “C’mon, tell me more.” “Oh well, my pa hired these black boys. Them two used to circlejerk all the time. Said they learnt it in prison,” Thomas said. “They used-ta be sleepin’ in the barn at night, and just ‘bout e’ry night I be hearin’ ‘em out there groanin’. My paps’d kill me if’n he knew I go out there, just ta see what they’s doin’. Well, not jest that, I did join in sometimes, but them black workers, they got muscles and use ‘em all on they meat, I dunno why, they attack that shit like they angry wit’ it.” He blushed. “Feels good in its way. You even better at it, boi. Don’t tell my paps I say that. He ain’t ‘nlightened ‘bout that stuff like I is, he ain’t think I should be spendin’ time with you.” Unable to stop himself any longer, Avery moaned as cum spurted from his rod. He leaned in and kissed Thomas’s toned body, sucking on the sweat that clung to his frame — Avery liked muscular men, but not perfect six-pack bodybuilder-types, so Thomas’s ropy muscles were exactly what he wanted. Thomas’s nipples were erect in Avery’s mouth, and his tense pecs were hard as rocks. Jizz sprayed over Thomas’s cock, which twitched as he groaned in disgust. Avery’s whole body bucked, but Thomas didn’t let go, even as Avery’s semen soaked into his crotch and dripped onto the ground at his feet. Avery kept pumping his hips, humping Thomas’s hand and Thomas’s cock, whose erection remained half-hearted. Cum lubed it up, and Thomas kept up with his slow strokes, even as his hand and his dickshaft became slick with the cream of Avery’s load. “Oh hell,” Thomas said, his eyes opening wise. “You crazy… You payin’ me for real, right? This ain’t a trick?” “I promise. Thirty bucks an hour,” Avery said. He took a deep breath as Thomas dropped Avery’s dick, stroking himself off instead. “Wait,” Avery said. He put his limpening cock back next to Thomas’s hard manhood, and Avery scooped up as much of the cum as he could from Thomas’s dark blond pubic hair. Thomas didn’t seem to realize how soaked his crotch was with Avery’s cum, or maybe he did and it just didn’t bother him. “Fuck, thihty bucks an hour?! Hell yeah! I’ll do anythang for thihty bucks an hour!” Thomas said. He looked away and curled one hand over his belly as though he was nauseous, rather than look at Avery’s puddle of semen in his crotch and his own hand stroking two cocks at once. “Yee-fuckin’-haw!” Then he blushed and shut his mouth. “I’m sorry. That ain’t Christian language.” His eyes opened wide and he rushed to correct himself. “When I say I do anything fo’ thirty bucks an hour, I ain’t mean anything ‘t all. I-“ “I know,” Avery said. “I won’t hold you to that. You can say no to anything you want. And I really do have some work for you to do. I want you to put together my bed-frame in the other room.” “I can do that.” Thomas had stopped stroking himself off, and he looked at his hands, dripping with Avery’s jizz, as though he didn’t get how that happened. Then Avery guided his hands back and smiled at Thomas’s awkward fumbling with his own cum-slickened cock. The cum on his hand was rapidly cooling. Avery wanted to eat it, but it was his own cum, which was always less appealing than someone else’s. So he grabbed for Thomas’s nipples again. He had taut pecs, which flexed and tightened when Avery touched them. He smeared the creamy cum all over Thomas’s torso, savoring the feel of his short, fine blond hairs. Thomas had closed his eyes, so he didn’t immediately notice that Avery was smearing cum all over his chest. When he did, he groaned in disgust but didn’t complain, not even when Avery started licking it off. “Gonna git my nut now, boi,” he murmured softly. His dick was fully hard now, and Avery stroked it with both hands. “You ready? You really want it?” His body flexed, his shaft pulsating in Avery’s grip. Avery wasn’t expecting him to cum from a handjob at all, much less so quickly, but as soon as Avery had nutted and focused on stroking Thomas off with both hands, Thomas’s cock rocketed right to readiness. The smell of his funk filled the air. Thomas turned beet-red just before he came. His knees weakened, and he bucked his whole hefty body, nearly knocking Avery over when he grabbed Avery’s shoulders for support. His muscles roiled. He clenched his teeth, then opened his mouth to gasp, then clenched his lips shut again. “Got-damn, boy! Yeah, thass right!” he cried out, then looked regretful about his blasphemy. Hot cum sprayed right into Avery’s crotch, a fat load of it that spread over Avery’s dick and balls and soaked into his pubic hair. It coated his limp dick and dripped onto the floor, though Avery again caught most of it in the palm of his hand. Thomas was young enough that he shot an enormous load, more than Avery could even hold in his palm, and more and more kept on coming. As Thomas ejaculated, he pumped his hips back and forth, humping Avery’s hands. Avery loved holding onto an orgasmic alpha by the dickmeat, cuz he could squeeze it and stroke it and send waves of pleasure through his alpha’s body. Thomas grunted and groaned, his red neck turning redder, the ruddy color of his skin spreading to his tan face and his pale chest. “You got a nice healthy meat,” Avery said. “Nice and big, thick.” Thomas opened his mouth and sighed. “Damn, boy, that weren’t bad. I-” He stopped himself when he saw Avery about to suck the cum out of the palm of his hand, even as Thomas was not quite done cumming, and more kept leaking out into Avery’s paws. Thomas looked queasy, but he didn’t complain as Avery let go of his dick and brought his hand up to his mouth. That salty puddle disappeared past Avery’s lips, and Avery gulped down every drop. Thomas gagged uncontrollably as though he tasted it himself. “Damn… You some kinda nasty,” Thomas said. He threw his hands in the air, the motion making his now limpening dick jiggle and sway. “Nothin’ personal. But you best get right with Jesus.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, where this work at?” Avery nodded. He licked his hand clean, then pointed to the bedroom. The frame was halfway put-together. “Can I take a shower first?” Thomas asked, looking down at the shiny layer of cum over his chest. He was sweaty as well, both because it was warm in here and from his sexual exertion. Avery licked the sweat off his biceps. His dick still hung out the fly of his overalls, but he tucked it away at last. Avery almost said yes, as long as he got to watch, but he decided not to. He wanted to watch Thomas work with the smell of cum all over him — he was paying a lot of money for Thomas’s time, after all. Plus, he figured that this way, Thomas would get good and sweaty just like Avery liked his men. And hopefully, he’d be ready for another handjob later. “No,” Avery said. “I’m paying for your time to do work. You can shower on your own time.” “Fine. Yes, sir,” he said. He shrugged, but he got right to work. He knelt down to examine the partially assembled bedframe. “Ain’t surprised. My pa don’t let the colored boys shower ‘till the end of the day neither. And then they gotta use the green barn shower like a cow.” Avery watched his muscles flex as he figured out what needed to be done and quickly got the frame screwed together — he was as good at tools as he had suggested. Avery helped him keep the frame still, but it looked like Thomas would have been able to do it by himself if he needed to. So maybe the instructions were right, it was a one-man job. It just had to be one strong, handy man. Not Avery. The screws remained superfluous though. Then Avery had him fix the back door — Avery had bought a replacement doorknob, since the lock often got stuck, but he had never gotten around to replacing it. He rarely used the back door anyway. By the time he was done with that, the cum on Thomas’s chest was no longer visible, covered with a fine layer of sweat that made those short blond hairs stick to his skin. Thomas grunted as he tested the door by locking it and slamming it shut over and over. “‘S good,” he said. He looked at the time. “I been here fo’ one hour and fo’ty minutes. You gonna pay out for two hours or what?” Avery shrugged. “I might have something you could do for twenty minutes,” he said. Thomas smiled. “You wanna mess ’round again? You gonna gimme another handjob?” “Not exactly,” Avery said. He sunk to his knees and kissed Thomas’s dick through his overalls. Thomas jumped back as though it hurt, then laughed and said, “Oh, you like swallowin’ dick?” Avery smiled — Thomas sounded surprised by that. His crotch stank of stale cum, which made Avery even hornier. He wondered how much of that smell came from the orgasm he had just had one hour and forty minutes ago, and how much came from those circlejerks with the “colored boys” his father hired. “I love swallowin’ dick,” Avery said. “You ever get dome before?” “Hell yeah!” Thomas said. Then he paused, blushing intensely. “I mean… Not often. I ain’t married, reckon. I did… I done got a blowjob or two in my day, but I ain’t proud.” His smile turned beaming. “I usedta have a girl who loved sucking dick. But she said it tasted like sweat, and she ain’t like that.” “Won’t bother me none. I love sweat,” Avery said. “Nasty.” Thomas looked away as Avery undid his overalls, letting them fall to his ankles. Then he swallowed that fat dick in one smooth motion, getting almost the whole shaft in his mouth before it began to get hard. It tasted like the stale jizz from the handjob a little awhile ago. This time he did get hard right away. Judging from the expression on his face, he was shocked by how good this felt, and maybe his cock remained painfull sensitive from his recent orgasm. He stared down in open-mouthed amazement, as his dick leaked precum down Avery’s throat. His balls twitched with anticipation. He had an enormous cock, and once it got hard, it was too thick for Avery to deep-throat effectively. He was very good at throating down alphas, but even he had his limits. The more he was unable to swallow, the more forcefully Thomas’s body humped his throat. He even gripped Avery’s head to better force his meat down Avery’s gullet. Soon Thomas was throating Avery, not in a violent way, but more of an unknowingly instinctual way, like he couldn’t help but hold his scalp in place to treat his mouth like a pussy. Precum coated Avery’s tongue, while Avery used both hands to stroke him off at the root. He could see those fine blond hairs standing up — Thomas had goosebumps, his whole body shaking with excitement and anxiety. Thomas even tweaked one of his own nipples then blushed again and stopped as though there was something wrong with that. “I got something better for us to do,” Avery said. “You wanna… go all the way?” Thomas blushed and looked away. “You mean…?” Avery undid his own jeans and bent over, making sure not to let Thomas see his cock — he had discovered that men were more likely to go along with anal if they didn’t have to actually look at a penis. Avery kept his ass smooth; if you didn’t look anywhere else, it might look rather like a woman’s ass. He didn’t want to ruin that impression. “How do I do it?” Thomas asked. He whispered, glancing in every direction in case someone was peering in the windows. He looked at Avery’s ass as though he had never seen anything like it. Avery was on all fours, and he lifted his ass up so it would line up with Thomas’s crotch. This wasn’t an ideal position for himself, Avery thought, but it would be best for Thomas — Avery very much wanted Thomas to enjoy this so he might come back. “Just let me handle it,” Avery said. “You do what comes naturally.” “You makin’ me feel things, boy…-” He sounded momentarily threatening, a growling, menacing quality to his voice, as his naive farmboy demeanor momentarily vanished. Then he groaned as his rod pushed into Avery’s ass. Despite his claims, Avery got the strong impression that this was not Thomas’s first time. A twinge of pain hit Avery, which made his dick get hard as well, but he focused on pushing his ass back onto Thomas’s crotch. Avery’s pain and pressure grew worse, but as Thomas began humping, it got better and better, and soon Avery’s prostate twinkled into action. Pleasure washed over Avery’s bones, and his dick spasmed, leaking precum even though no one was touching it. But then someone was. Thomas’s hands crept around Avery’s body and took hold of his dick. He gave it a stroke with both hands, then let go. He hesitated before continuing. “Sorry, ‘m I sposedta do that?” Avery tried to say yes, but all that came out was an orgasmic groan. The pressure in his ass was too intense to say anything, and he was shocked that Thomas was giving a reacharound. Exquisite bliss flowed through Avery’s veins. “My pa say if you ever ram a man in the ass, you better have the common courtesy to give a reacharound,” Thomas said. “I ain’t know what a reacharound was… But I guess this is it, huh?” “Yeah, you got it…” Avery said breathlessly. Avery was unable to stop himself from cumming any longer. First he arched his back, very nearly standing up so he could twist his face behind himself and lick Thomas’s cum-stained pecs, while semen flew from his rod, once again coating Thomas’s hands. Avery’s spasming body squeezed around the cock in his rear. Thomas didn’t notice because he was about to cum as well. His dick spasmed and stopped moving deep within Avery’s ass, pausing while it spewed a massive load. Then he resumed humping, harder and more passionate now, possessing the barbarous violence of an alpha male — Avery loved that transition, the shift from naive juvenile to dominant alpha; he had awakened the macho in this farmboy, and now he rammed with so much power that Avery could only scream in pain and passion. He didn’t stop even as the cum stopped flowing. He used his hands more forcefully now, to mold Avery back into a doggystyle position with his head upraised. In the process he spread Avery’s cum from his own fingers to every corner of Avery’s body. He seemed devoid of reluctance, even though Avery’s jizz now covered much of his frame. Finally he was done humping. He pulled out, having made Avery’s asshole into a frothy mess. A soup of santorum spilled onto the carpet. Avery gasped and begged wordlessly, while Thomas whistled in disgust. “That ain’t nice. You really into this?” Avery collapsed onto the floor in a sweaty mess. He let out a choked cry of orgasmic pleasure. “Hey mister, you okay? Did I do that wrong?” “No, you did fine,” Avery said breathlessly. “Oh. Okay. Anythang else you want from me, sir?” “Go take a shower,” Avery said as he crawled onto weakened knees. “I’ll get your money. Come back tomorrow, I’ll have more work to do.” He hesitated but beamed bashfully, his face a bright red. “Yessir.” Avery paused. “No, wait. Next week. I need time to recover.”
Antonov is at a workcamp in Siberia, where he shares a bunk with the hairy brute Yuri. When Yuri’s hands get to roaming at night, it results in a no-holds-barred explosion of nighttime desires and sexual satisfaction!
Antonov didn’t regret coming to Siberia, at least not yet, though he couldn’t think of anything but how comfortable his nice warm bed must be back in Rostov. This place, he thought, might as well have been a different world. It wasn’t cold in his bed, and that was the worst part. The work barracks in the forested wasteland of southern Siberia were very cold. Antonov and his workmates all dressed in layers for bed, and Antonov had several heavy blankets atop him. He also wore a fur cap with ear flaps to keep his head warm. But the reason Antonov was not cold was that he had to share this tiny bunk with Yuri, a massive beast of a man whose body heat and rather extensive hair provided plenty of warmth and insulation. That was why the worst part of his sleeping arrangements was how warm it was — Antonov would have rather been cold and trying to sleep as close to the fireplace as he could get. Instead he couldn’t sleep because he was desperate to be as far from Yuri as possible. The zesty funk of his armpits and back made Antonov’s stomach churn. The bunk was too small to get very far away though. Yuri weighed down the mattress enough to cause a deep depression, into which Antonov continually sunk until finally he felt the fuzz of Yuri’s body hair, which made Antonov scoot back up the tiny distance between Yuri and the edge of the bed. That happened several times until Antonov gave up. Then Yuri rolled over. Before Antonov knew what was happening, he found his face wedged in the meaty space between Yuri’s right pec and armpit. He got a mouthful of body hair. Yuri’s massive cock flopped out of the fly of his long underwear, which he had pulled down to masturbate earlier — Yuri had no compunctions about jacking off in the bed next to Antonov, groaning and moaning the whole time, letting his arm hair rub on Antonov’s face. He saw this as reasonable behavior because he cleaned up the jizz on his belly with a sock, which now lay congealing on the floor. That was why his longjohns were down when he rolled over, and that was why his fat cockshaft smacked onto Antonov’s thigh. “Psst… Workmate… Hey, Yuri, comrade, wake up… Move over,” Antonov whispered. Yuri didn’t move. Antonov didn’t want to make a big scene — he had known that workmates at remote camps like these became used to each other’s nudity in close quarters. His father had warned him of that, and Antonov didn’t want to look like a prude. His father had also warned him about certain other behaviors such workmates partook in. Antonov was very worried about that. It seemed that, in the absence of women — and of light, in the long Siberian winters — workmates often treated each other that way. That wasn’t allowed in Soviet Russia, but it was widely tolerated in all-male environments like this. They jacked each other off, that was it. They used their mouths and maybe other orifices — Antonov wasn’t sure if he believed in the existence of sodomy, it seemed unlikely and disgusting, but he didn’t say so lest he look like a fool if it turned out to be real. So Antonov always knew it was possible that something would happen, and he was willing to accept it. Once he did his time here at the workcamp in Siberia, his family would receive extra rations. He knew he could accept anything for a chance at a better life for his family. One of Yuri’s giant meaty hands landed on Antonov’s chest. Was he awake now? It seemed not, but Antonov had a feeling he was. Was this how it happened? Antonov’s father had said that they traded mouths in the bathing-tent, but those tents here were tiny, barely big enough for one person much less two, so they always bathed alone, using a sponge and a bucket of warm water. Maybe things had changed since Antonov’s father was a working man. That massive paw moved. It slowly stroked Antonov’s bare stomach, and Antonov sharply inhaled. Was Yuri asleep? It was possible that he thought Antonov was a girl. Maybe he was moving entirely on instinct? But then Yuri’s hand moved all the way down to Antonov’s long underwear. It slipped under the fabric and, in one smooth motion, gripped Antonov’s dick before it slowly, haltingly gave it a single stroke. The friction combined with the tension in the air to make Antonov bite his lip to stifle a moan of desire. His dick stiffened up beneath Yuri’s work-callused hands. The smell of Yuri’s body filled his nostrils, as every motion Yuri made reawakened a fresh wave of that masculine sourness. “Yuri, I-” Antonov tried to speak, but he was stopped by Yuri’s other hand covering his mouth. “Sssh…” was all Yuri said. The other workmates in their bunks tossed and turned, snoring, coughing in the night, but no one seemed to be awake. Antonov gulped. Yuri’s bearded mouth moved, kissing Antonov on the chest, through his long underwear. Then Yuri moved down Antonov’s smooth torso until he reached his crotch. Entirely under the covers now, Yuri pulled Antonov’s long underwear down, freeing his cock, which stuck straight up. The erection was a surprise. Antonov did not realize he had a stiffy already. This was not at all progressing how Antonov thought it would, but it was happening too fast for him to even think about responding. All he could do was submit. His father had not warned him it would be like this. Yuri swallowed Antonov’s cock as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Antonov arched his back and gasped. He instinctively grabbed Yuri’s back, even though it felt off-putting for him to caress the strapping muscles of Yuri’s shoulders. Antonov had always been skinny — he often claimed he was stronger than he looked, but still, he was nowhere’s near as strong as Yuri — so he was awed by the sheer power he could sense in Yuri’s corded muscles. Yuri had been working as a builder on these remote worksites for years, and it showed in the thick, bulging muscles of his back. The mouth was incredible. Antonov was so nervous he didn’t notice it right away, he just threw his head back and grunted. He couldn’t believe it, but this felt better than it had when he got a girl to suck him off. Yuri seemed to know exactly what to do. The pleasure that wracked Antonov’s body was so all-encompassing that he completely forgot about his anxiety over the situation or his dismay at being forced to share a bed with Yuri, whom he now suspected no one else wanted to sleep with because he was so big and sweaty. That was why they made the new guy sleep with him. Antonov couldn’t think too much about that in this moment. His mind was wracked by pleasure so intense it hurt. Antonov’s fingers gripped the thick mane of Yuri’s black hair, guiding his head up and down on his shaft. Yuri slathered spit as he moved. The moisture and the warmth sent a wave of sensations through Antonov’s body. He suckled loudly and moistly on Antonov’s dick, like an expert, but since his head was under the covers, the sound wasn’t audible away from the bed — or so Antonov hoped. He didn’t want to acquire a reputation for this sort of activity. But he wasn’t about to back out either. He had never experienced anything so incredible. He bit his lip and then buried his face in the meaty muscle of Yuri’s torso where Antonov could scream and grunt with the sound absorbed by Yuri’s solid body. Yuri’s head was all the way down on Antonov’s shaft, his face nuzzled in Antonov’s pubic hair, as Yuri’s thick fingers worked all the way up and down Antonov’s body. An orgasm erupted suddenly within Antonov, who threw his pillow over his face to muffle the sound. He groaned and moaned as he sprayed his load into Yuri’s mouth. Yuri let out a moist gagging sound, and his throat rejected the cum that flowed down it. That caused a big load of jizz and spit to slip out of Antonov’s mouth, soaking Antonov’s hairy crotch and sticking to the bushy hair of Yuri’s beard. Despite the awkwardness of the situation — or perhaps because of it — Antonov experienced an incredible climax. His toes curled, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug into the meat of Yuri’s broad back. His whole body tensed and shook as he filled Yuri’s mouth with wad after wad of creamy cum. Yuri kept his head in place under the covers like a professional. Antonov could sense the distaste he had for cum, but he submitted to it as though he had done this on numerous occasions, which Antonov supposed he probably had. His father must have been right about these places. “Sssh…” Yuri said, even though Antonov hadn’t made any noise. Then he loudly swallowed the mouthload of jizz he had. For a moment, he paused, and Antonov sensed him hold back a gag. Then Yuri said, “It is my turn.” His eyes opening wide, Antonov oomphed as Yuri’s strong arms rolled him over. Antonov faced the raging fire in the fireplace, which kept him warm as the covers fell off him. Then Yuri pressed his big body atop Antonov’s back, his thick nest of chest hair helping to warm Antonov back up again. But his body felt slick with sweat and cum and who knew what else. Antonov didn’t much like the sensation, and he wasn’t sure if he’d like what came next. His father had warned him of this as well. Maybe, Antonov realized, sodomy was a real thing after all. “You have pretty skin…” Yuri said. The words made Antonov’s skin crawl and gave him goosebumps. But Antonov wanted to fit in among his workmates, and he was desperate to do whatever they did. It was clear that Yuri expected him to give up his ass for the night, and he was Antonov’s superior, so he could have made workcamp life difficult for him. That was why Antonov submitted as he lost himself in the iron-like firmness of Yuri’s arms. So for now, he just had to submit and hopefully stay quiet enough that no one else woke up. He didn’t want anyone to know what he was allowing Yuri to do to him. Antonov held his breath as he felt that massive slab of Russian meat pressing at his asshole. He thought for sure it was entirely too big, there was no way he could ever take it inside him. Almost as intense a sensation was the feeling of Yuri’s heavy body weighing down Antonov’s back. It was hard to breathe. Yuri took a deep breath, and Antonov could feel it in the expansion of Yuri’s hairy chest against Antonov’s back, which was bare and slickened with a layer of Yuri’s sweat. “You’re a pretty boy,” Yuri whispered softly, right into Antonov’s ear. His voice was gravely and rough, and it made Antonov shudder. Yuri spat into the palm of his hand — the sound was impossibly loud since he was so close to Antonov’s face — and he wiped the spit off on his cockshaft. Then his finger pushed into Antonov’s tight asshole. Antonov bit his lip and cringed as pain erupted inside him, followed only dimly, barely, but definitely, a little bud of pleasure. Yuri chuckled, again right into Antonov’s ear. “Do not worry, little rose-blossom,” Yuri said. “I will be very gentle.” He kissed the back of Antonov’s neck and wrapped his muscular right arm around Antonov’s neck. Antonov gulped and scrunched his eyes shut. He prayed that none of the other workmates woke up. He didn’t want them to see him like this. He tasted Yuri’s biceps and the thick hairs that lined his arm. A sharp pain came on so suddenly that Antonov gasped. His mouth opened wide and filled with Yuri’s arm-flesh. He tried to move away but couldn’t — not because Yuri held him down, since he didn’t, but just because the sensation was so intense that Antonov could do little more than writhe in Yuri’s powerful arms. “Ssssh, comrade… Bite me if it hurts, that is alright,” Yuri said. He kissed the back of Antonov’s head again, and he even licked his skin there. He sucked on Antonov’s earlobe. “Hmm, my little rose-blossom. I will make your asshole my pussy.” As his cockmeat shoved into Antonov’s ass, Yuri growled like a bear. Pleasure surged in Antonov’s body. Clenching his teeth, Antonov held his breath, the pain so incredible he thought for sure he was being torn in two. But he couldn’t deny that behind it all was a faint sense of pleasure, which grew stronger and stronger with every thrust of Yuri’s cock inside him. He still hadn’t quite gotten every inch of his meat inside Antonov though, and he kept spitting in his palm to use as lube. Each time he did, Antonov could hear him spit so loud it was like a deafening roar, it felt like he spat on Antonov even though he didn’t, it was just so close to Antonov’s face that he might as well have. There was moisture dripping from him onto Antonov’s face. It was either spit or sweat. There was no clear division between his crotch hair and his belly hair either, making it feel like a giant bear was behind him. Antonov cringed and squirmed until the pain grew so bad he stayed still, and he found it did feel better to gnaw on the meat of Yuri’s firm forearm. “Hey, say my name,” Yuri whispered into Antonov’s ear. Antonov lay flat on the bed, perfectly still because every motion he made reawakened the pain in his ass. He just submitted and tried not to think about the body hair scratching at his skin. “Wh-What?” “Say my name, like a girl,” Yuri said. “Please? You’re so pretty. Say my name. Moan it.” His voice was breathless and deep, rumbling, and Antonov could feel the words in Yuri’s chest just as strongly as he could hear them. “Yuri…” Antonov hadn’t intended to actually say Yuri’s name like he demanded. Antonov was going to ask him to go easier on his ass. But all he managed to get out was the name before Yuri moaned again like he was going to cum just from hearing his own name. With that, Yuri’s cock slid the rest of the way into Antonov. The pain — and pleasure — was intense enough that Antonov raised his ass up. He buried his face in the pillow again, then lifted it up as he heaved for breath. The sensation was so intense he had to concentrate to draw breath at all. “You’re doing so good…” Yuri said. He kissed Antonov’s head again, and he even moved his face around to kiss Antonov on the cheeks and lips. Yuri had big, full lips, and his tongue entered Antonov’s mouth. Then Yuri stopped moving. There was a flurry of motion from one of the other bunks — did someone wake up? Antonov couldn’t tell. He was buried in Yuri’s arms and chest, pinned against the bunk. Antonov couldn’t have cried out if he wanted to. Someone had gotten up. It was Pyotr, Antonov thought, getting up to take a piss. Yuri pretended to be asleep. Since he was so big and he was atop Antonov, covering his body completely, nobody could see what was happening, at least not without coming very close, even though Antonov was squirming and groaning. Their bunk was in one shadowy corner near the fireplace, which made it especially hard to see anything. But Yuri didn’t move his cock. It remained hard like a sword inside Antonov, who would have been writhing there in agony on the bed if it weren’t for the massive weight of man and muscle atop his back. He couldn’t even take a breath. There was a bucket near the door that they used for piss. Antonov could hear the slow tinkle of Pyotr filling the bucket. The sound made Antonov squirm the best he could beneath Yuri’s body. That made Yuri bite his lip and jerk his body as though he was nearing orgasm and trying to keep it down. At last Pyotr laid back down in his bunk. Yuri and Antonov remained totally still and silent. Antonov wondered how long he could last like this, with a cock throbbing in his ass. Then Yuri started moving. It hadn’t been very long since Pyotr was up and moving around, so Yuri kept it quiet and low.-key He ground his hips, not moving his dick in or out at all, just exploring every inch of Antonov’s insides. That was even more arduous than the actual ramming had been. Antonov felt like he was going to explode. Yuri’s meaty forearm was in front of his face again, and this time Antonov bit down hard, like he was trying to actually eat Yuri’s arm. Yuri grunted in pain from Antonov’s bite, but he didn’t try to pull his arm away. He was so muscular that biting his forearm was like eating steel. It felt like Antonov was more likely to break his teeth than actually tear out a chunk of flesh from Yuri’s arm. “It is okay. I is alright,” Yuri said. His gravely whisper made Antonov shudder, which in turn caused another wave of pain to shoot through him. Yuri spoke as soothingly as his gruff voice would allow. “Don’t worry, little rose-blossom. I’m almost done. I’m going to fill you up with my cum-” That thought made Antonov yelp into Yuri’s flesh, and Yuri tightened his grip on Antonov’s body. “Sssh, don’t wake them up. If they sleep through this, it will not count. I will not tell anyone. Tomorrow it will be like it never happened. I will jerk you off again next time.” “When… Uh… When do I get ram you?” Antonov said. “Later…” Yuri said. “I am jerking you off. That is a good enough trade, isn’t it?” “Yeah… fine,” Antonov said. That didn’t really sound so equal at all, but he knew Yuri was right — the best result was just not waking anyone up. Yuri would keep it a secret if he could. “Okay, lift your hips up a bit,” Yuri said. When Antonov didn’t immediately follow instructions, Yuri grabbed his waist and lifted it up. He pressed his palm — the same palm he had been spitting in before, so it was now clammy and moist — on the back of Antonov’s head, pushing his face into the mattress. The bed was wet now too, with spit and sweat and more. Yuri took a deep breath. Antonov closed his eyes, certain that this was going to hurt worse than anything he had ever experienced. He wasn’t wrong. Yuri began slamming his hips up and down, using every ounce of power in his massive body, as though he was trying to get at something deep within Antonov. Antonov squealed into the mattress beneath him. He didn’t need to worry about muffling the sound because Yuri kept his face in position, buried in the sheets and the mattress. Antonov had no idea how long that took. It felt like many hours, but he assumed that couldn’t be right, or the sun would have been up when he lifted his head. But it was still pitch-black, still freezing cold away from Yuri’s overheated body. The sound of Yuri’s balls slapping against Antonov’s thighs filled the air. That seemed very loud to Antonov, but only because Antonov was also beneath the blankets, which Yuri had to hold on to in order to ensure they covered the action. That helped provide insulation and kept the sound from waking up all of Antonov’s and Yuri’s other workmates. The only thing worse than Yuri’s pounding was when it ended. That’s because Antonov was overwhelmed by pain as Yuri stopped moving with his fat cock all the way inside Antonov. Yuri’s entire body shook, and his muscles all flexed at once. Yuri let out a deep roar that Antonov thought would surely wake someone up, though no one moved. The sound resonated in Antonov’s ear. Yuri’s body was drenched in sweat, his thick mop of black hair plastered to his scalp Then the sensation of cum flowing into him hit Antonov’s senses. He tried to squirm but Yuri snarled and gripped him tight. Antonov couldn’t even go limp as the feeling was too intense. All he could do was bury his face in the mattress — which stank of Yuri’s sweat — as cum filled him up. He shot a huge load, impossibly large, it seemed to Antonov, who felt it sloshing around within him. Yuri sighed as it came out. Antonov could feel how thick and creamy it was, seeping into every corner of his insides. There was so much of it that Antonov thought he tasted its salty-sour flavor, like it had somehow broken all the way through to his mouth, though a part of him knew that was just Yuri’s chest hair in his mouth. “You are alright, my little rose-blossom?” Yuri asked. His voice was low and rumbly, and he again kissed Antonov on the back of the neck. Antonov nodded. He was still in too much pain with that giant cock in his ass to say anything or do anything besides keep his mouth shut. It took every fiber of being to avoid screaming out in agony. “You want me to take it out?” Yuri asked. His dick twitched inside Antonov. It hurt even worse now that it was only half-hard and rapidly limpening. Yuri laughed at Antonov’s wincing reaction. “Yes!” Antonov spat. He held his breath as Yuri withdrew the first little bit of his cock, but then he stopped. “You sure?” “Yes!” Yuri laughed again. He pressed down on Antonov’s head with one arm, while his other hand pushed Antonov’s shoulders down. He slowly dragged his dick out. When he was finally done, Antonov breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had never felt better than he did in those first few seconds, like he had scratched an itch that had been bothering him for years. That feeling didn’t last very long, because intense soreness overwhelmed him then, and every motion he made sent another wave of pain from his ass. But at least it was over. Antonov had gotten through it. His father had said he was too much of a weakling, that he’d never be able to fit in here with the other real men working in Siberia. Antonov’s father had said his skinny body would freeze to death his first night. That hadn’t happened. Antonov had made it through his first week, and he hadn’t done too poorly — nobody had woken up, as far as he could see. Nobody knew he had gotten rammed. Yuri belched loudly. Now that they were done ramming, it didn’t matter if he woke anyone up. His rancid breath condensed on Antonov’s face, and Antonov winced. Yuri chuckled and kissed him. Then Yuri rolled over. His limp, slimy dick rested on Antonov’s thigh. Yuri laid on his side, and he wrapped his arms and his leg around Antonov. Antonov once again found himself ensconced in those massive muscles and his burly bear-like chest hair. “Sssh, it is cold,” Yuri said. “Sleep with me like this, okay?” Antonov sighed. “Fine.” He had to admit, it was more comfortable this way. He hadn’t been able to sleep when he tried to stay as far away from Yuri as possible, and the man’s throbbing muscles made for a comfortable bed and blanket. He was warm and cozy. “Thank you,” Yuri said. “You’ll fit in well here, Antonov. I’m going to enjoy you, workmate.”
Miles Palmer Rompenhauer loves feet! When he stumbles across a studly trucker in a diner, he never thought it’d turn into a foot-focused alpha-male explosion that just might be too much for him to bear!
Can he handle his newfound redneck friend’s grimy, filthy, nasty feet?!
Palmer Rompenhauer smiled at the waitress, Polly, who smiled back at him. She placed the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him. “So, Polly, how’s that boyfriend of yours?” “Oh, he’s darling, sugah. He got a new full-time job, starts next week.” “Really?! Oh that’s wonderful,” Palmer said even though he didn’t believe it. He was actually annoyed. He had rather hoped Polly’s boyfriend would still be underemployed. He felt bad thinking that. It wasn’t really true, he wished Polly and her man the best of luck, even if that stymied his mission here today. It was just disappointing for it happen right when Palmer had a plan to get what he wanted. He had come here to the truck stop diner because the world’s most arousing short order cook worked here. He was a big black daddy-type with a marvelous mustache and big stinky feet that Polly had complained about on several occasions. Palmer liked that. He liked dirty men — and their feet — and Polly had said her boyfriend was dirty to the max. She’d shown him a photo, and Palmer had seen pictures of him on Facebook. Those feet looked so good he could almost taste them through the screen. The funk, the filth, the aroma… It was enough to make Palmer’s dick hard. It didn’t make his dick hard, because he was saving himself — saving himself, he thought, for Polly’s boyfriend. But now if he got a full-time job. That made it unlikely he would swing on the downlow for a couple dollars. He had hoped that Polly’s boyfriend would still be stuck in a part-time cook job because then Palmer could pay him to worship his feet. She told Palmer about the full-time job — which sounded like a great opportunity that paid well — and then scurried off to attend to a table of rowdy truckers who needed the check. That was when the door to the diner opened. Another, less rowdy trucker walked in, burly and thick, fuzzy hair protruding from the fire-department tee shirt he wore, against which his fleshy arms bulged. He had on camo pants that Palmer could tell from looking at them had been worn so much they were stiff and funky. They were the kind of pants only worn by the kind of man who rarely washes his pants. Truckers often don’t wash their clothes because they are always on the road. And oh god those feet. The glory of his feet! Palmer couldn’t even see them yet, and already he craved the taste. The trucker wore heavy hiking boots, jet black and burnished, dull, flecked with muds and pale dots that were seemingly bleach stains. They were going to smell remarkable too. Palmer sniffed the air in hopes that he would catch a whiff of the shoes or the feet encased within them, and maybe he did, or maybe he was imagining it, or maybe it was the feet of one of the other truckers in the diner. Or maybe it was Polly’s feet. Palmer didn’t like to think about that possibility though. He wasn’t into women’s feet, and women’s feet should be graceful and beautiful. They should smell like tropical fruits and sunshine. Men’s feet should be gnarled and hairy, sweat-soaked, gristly like a cheap steak. That’s what Palmer craved. The trucker had a tired look on his face, and he stood there at the counter as he scrutinized the menu — that was a sure giveaway of a real trucker who was on a long haul: he didn’t want to spend more time seated right now. He massaged his sore legs as he stood there. He stretched each thigh, and he stood on his toes to stretch his calf muscles. The trucker leaned over the counter, stretching his thunderous muscles and lifting each leg up one after the other. He glanced at the menu for only a few seconds before ordering something from Polly. “Sure thing, sugah!” Polly said. Then she nodded at Palmer. “Need anything, Miles?” “No thanks,” Palmer said. She called him Miles, cuz it was his first name. But most people called him Palmer. Polly was already off to the back of the diner to put in the trucker’s order. Palmer wondered how he could land a taste of this trucker’s funk. He came across as so filthy that Palmer could already imagine his taste and the flavor and texture of his grime. Every man’s grime is unique, Palmer always said, and he wished to sample them all. There was dirt in the trucker’s greasy hair, plus a few smudges on his cheek — it looked like he had rolled around in the mud and then showered only very briefly, so there were still clumps of soil attached to him and clinging to his hair. Older dirt stains had been rubbed into the clothes he wore, and his hair was slick and unwashed. A lot of the truckers were filthy, but not all of them could pull it off. Palmer salivated as he finally caught a whiff of the trucker’s funk — the trucker raised his arm briefly, stretching his shoulders, which bared his armpit long enough for Miles to inhale deeply of the dizzying scent. It was warm and musty, like a cozy library and a campfire had a baby, and Miles wanted to suck up every drop of moisture of the man’s powerful frame. He was tall and broad-shouldered too. A lot of truckers were pretty fat. He wasn’t big on skinny guys, and Palmer didn’t mind a little heft. That was why he had come here lusting after the cook — a former bodybuilder with biceps to die for — instead of any of the truckers. But now, he thought, he had an option. This trucker wasn’t fat at all. He was deliciously chunky, and though he didn’t have that cook’s amateur bodybuilder look, he was still appealing. He looked like he might have played football in high school and probably still did it enough with his buddies to stay in shape. He was built like a truck, with a face that was kind of squashed like he had been hit by a truck and a dull, metallic tone to his voice like a truck Transformer. He had probably been driving a pickup truck since before he could legally get a license. Palmer had no idea if all those suppositions were true, but it felt right, and he was ready to find out. He left Polly a nice tip, then headed to the counter where that sexy trucker still leaned. He had ordered oatmeal. Palmer wasn’t sure he had ever seen anyone order oatmeal in a restaurant — he didn’t get it: Why order something you could cook in a microwave in a minute, for a cost of like fifty cents? But still, it was adorable. That trucker shoveled it in his mouth like he was a starving child. His unkempt beard hairs moved up and down, capturing some oatmeal-bits that escaped his lips. Palmer smiled, heart thumping. “Manky?” The man looked at him and furrowed his brow. “What? Who are you?” “My name’s Palmer. Are you the football player they called Manky?” “Yeah” Manky was obviously proud of being recognized. He blushed. “Cool, uh… Cool.” Then his eyes opened wide. “Oh! You’re the dude I was looking for!” “What?” “I was told I should find you, man. You got something I want.” “Really?” “Yeah.” Manky wolfed down the last of his oatmeal and left some money on the counter. “You got Asian chicks?” “Asian chicks?” Palmer followed Manky out of the diner and towards the rows of trucks in one side of the parking lot. The roar of the engines was loud here, and Manky had to raise his voice to be heard. But Palmer still didn’t quite catch what he said. “Tits and that… All over… I’ve got… How do you…?… The back… I’ll do…” “Oh, uh…” Manky opened the cab of his truck and climbed in. The little sleeping area behind that looked cozy, with warm blankets and pillow all over, like a tiny opium den. It smelled of alcohol and cheap weed and sweat and Palmer wanted to go in there and cuddle up with Manky. But Manky waited like he was expecting someone else to join them. Palmer stood at the door, while Manky looked at him expectantly. In the door of the truck, the sound of the idling engines was not as loud, and Palmer could hear Manky more clearly. “Uh… Where she at?” “I’m sorry?” “The Asian chick?” “What Asian chick?” “I dunno man, ain’t you got her?” Palmer shook his head. “I don’t have any Asian chicks.” “Oh… Well, fine, I guess it doesn’t matter. You got blondes?” “I think… there’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t have chicks. I’m just… a dude, I don’t have a flotilla of chicks following me around.” “Oh… You’re not… the guy?” “I guess not. I am a guy.” “You’re not a pimp. You know a pimp?” “A pimp? No.” Palmer shrugged. “Oh, wait, yeah! You mean Slipper? I know Slipper. He ain’t here, he got arrested last week. His girls are all on Craigslist now.” Palmer wished he hadn’t said that because Manky took his phone out and pulled up Craigslist. “Damn it…” “So wait, if you ain’t think I was buyin’ a ho, why’d you follow me to my truck?” Manky asked. He didn’t look up from his phone until Palmer answered. “I was hoping to pay you for something…” Palmer said coyly. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to ram me. There’s a catch though. I-“ “Wait, what?” “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to cornhole me. You gotta let me jerk you off. You gotta ram me in the ass. And you gotta let me worship your feet.” There was a long pause. “What…? You mean me?” “You.” “Feet?” He lifted his heavy-booted feet up and wiggled it in front of Palmer. “Feet.” Manky blushed, the color mostly concealed by his scruffy beard hairs. “I, uh… I guess… Yeah.” He paused. “You ain’t gonna tell no one, is ya?” “It’s our secret.” Manky hesitated again. “So… like… you ain’t gotta be real detailed, but uh… do you like… want me to shower first? Or is it like… you-“ “I like it funky. Please do not shower first,” Palmer said. Manky blanched and laughed to cover up his obvious discomfort. He let Palmer into the cab, and they climbed into the sleeper. It was basically just a bed with a few shelves on the walls for personal belongings, plus a TV mounted above the bed, though it didn’t appear to be hooked up to anything at the moment. Manky laid himself out on the bed. He was trying to look casual. He didn’t want Palmer to think he was desperate or frightened, after all. A lot of truckers spoke of messing around with males on the road. It was common. A lot of truck stops had male “lot lizards” — addicts would do any guy for a place to sleep and a hot meal. Manky wasn’t into that. He could often land a free woman, or failing that, a prostitute — his trucking route kept him on main routes where there were usually prostitutes available. So he had never partaken. Older guys would do whatever it took to get their rocks off on the road. They said things like “it’s all pink in the dark” and “a hole’s a hole” and “it don’t count if you’s on the road”. Manky didn’t say things like that. He was not part of that older generation. “So, uh… what do you… do?” Manky asked, his voice trailing off because Palmer was already getting started. He hadn’t been immediately aware of that because he didn’t feel Palmer’s fingers on his boots, and Manky never really looked at his feet for that kind of thing. But Palmer had already bent over and kissed the bleachy leather of Manky’s heavy black boots. They stank of cleaning solvents and mud and sweat, that last of which smelled so intense that Palmer let out a long, cringing moan. “Damn…” Manky frowned like he was surprised to see this really happening. He found an old DVD player on a shelf — it wasn’t kept hooked up to the TV because Manky didn’t have a long enough cord. He had to rest the DVD player on the bedspread in order to plug it into the TV. He tried to ignore Palmer slathering his boot with kisses as he put in an Asian-chick porn. It wasn’t actually his favorite video, but this situation was already awkward enough that Manky didn’t want any penises on his screen. That black boot was cold and salty. Palmer untied it as he licked it from tip to heel. The leather was old and worn, but it was real leather, not plastic, so that just made it better. Palmer could see the time-worn creases where the material bent frequently, right over the toes mainly, but also up by the ankle, on the side. When he slipped it off, he struggled a bit, it was a tight fit and a heavy boot. It finally popped off and there was an audible, almost visible wave of footy funk that wafted into Palmer’s face. “Aaaaaaaaaaah….” Palmer let out a long moan that overpowered the sound of the Asian women eating each other out onscreen. He could taste the foot aroma that came in waves over his face. He chomped at the air to eat it — that made him giggle, especially the way Manky scrupulously faced away and ignored him. Palmer untied his second boot too and pulled it off, again sniffing loudly and savoring the astringent scent of his unwashed foot. It filled the air of the truck’s living quarters. Palmer wallowed in it, rubbing his nose through the dense fabric of both socks. Manky’s dick twitched. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t show it because it was embarrassing — he told himself it was because of the porn. But a part of him worried that he was beginning to enjoy this foot-worship. It was weird, he thought as Palmer pulled his dirty socks off, baring his big, meaty feet with a few highly visible hairs on the top. It was making his dick semi-hard anyway. Manky’s girlfriends often complained about his “hairy feet”, which he thought was unfair — they really weren’t hairy. There was a tuft of hair right on the bony part on the top of each foot, but it was maybe twenty hairs total. They were highly visible because they were jet-black and coarsely-textured. His feet always smelled bad too. More than one girlfriend had said she wouldn’t have sex with him if he took his shoes off. He’d seen a doctor at one point, but the cream he was given didn’t do anything. Manky just avoided taking his shoes off as much as he could, and he wore these heavy boots all the time because they were basically airtight — he didn’t realize that tight boots meant the inside was warm and slightly moist, the perfect environment to make his feet smell even worse. Or, from Palmer’s perspective, better. He sucked the funk off those hairs and moaned at the sour, salty taste. His hands roamed up Palmer’s calves, and he massaged his leg through those camo pants. Manky took off his shirt unprompted, then gulped and pulled his pants off when Palmer asked him to. Just think of the money, Manky reminded himself. It was weird to feel Palmer’s tongue on his feet. It was like getting a bath from a cat, he thought. It was off-putting but not exactly unpleasant. He just wished Palmer had wanted nothing more than to jerk him off — that would have been easier to endure. Just a handjob. No big deal. Manky’s foot was ungodly funky. Palmer loved it. It was like mainlining sweat. He could taste every inch of Manky’s body, like the sweat he sucked down had collected all the flavors of his hairy redneck frame as it trickled to his feet. Palmer’s hand gripped Manky’s cock, without removing his tongue from the bottom of Manky’s left foot. Manky’s whole body shook and his eyes opened wide, but he forced himself to remain focused on the porno. His dick had been on the verge of full erection for so long, twitching and throbbing in his dirty boxers, that he was virtually ready to explode as soon as Palmer finally touched it. “Oh goddamn…” Manky’s deep voice echoed in the tiny living area. He stretched his legs, but he was too tall, so his feet bumped into the metal side. Pleasure spasmed through his body, and he held his breath through clenched teeth. “Hmmm… You taste so good…” Palmer sucked down every drop of funk before letting his tongue run a trail up Manky’s hairy legs. Manky was already on the verge of blowing his load. The delay had made him so horny he could burst. His cock tasted like his foot, but a little cleaner. Palmer giggled at the taste and the sight of Manky’s ruddy face looking down at him — finally Manky was willing to tear his eyes away from the women onscreen. “Shit, man, goddamn!” Manky shouted. He grabbed ahold of Palmer’s head and guided it down deep on his dick, until Palmer’s nose nuzzled his unkempt pubic hair. Palmer loved that — so many young men these days shaved their crotches, which Palmer found unappealing — he liked that big hairy bush and the stale scent it always had. Most men trimmed though because it made their dick look bigger since less of it was concealed by pubic hair. Manky had such a huge dick he didn’t need to worry about that. His cock throbbed, precum flowing in Palmer’s throat. Manky would have been fine with cumming directly into Palmer’s throat, but Palmer had said he wanted anal. The best thing about anal, from Palmer’s perspective, was that he could worship a man’s foot at the same time. If Palmer bent over, with his ass high and his face on the ground, a man could ram him in the ass with his feet near enough to Palmer’s face that he could step on his head if he wanted to — which Palmer would often beg his men to do. That was difficult in this setting though. The tiny sleeper wasn’t big enough for Manky to stand up. “Here, can you lean back right here? I’ll back up, see?” Palmer arranged Manky to sort of squat in one corner. It was awkward and ungainly and it stretched Manky’s legs — but that wasn’t a bad thing, he was always looking for opportunities to exercise his knees. It was only Manky’s calf muscles that kept him aloft. Manky had only fucked one woman in the ass successfully — many backed out when they saw how big his dick was, but he had one girlfriend who loved it. So Manky was inexperienced with actually getting his cock into someone’s ass. “Damn it, man, hold still,” Manky said. Palmer had trouble keeping himself in position because he was more interested in nuzzling Manky’s foot than in getting it up the ass. But he spread his cheeks and backed himself up to meet Manky’s cock. A jolt of pain hit him, and Palmer lifted his head, just out of reach of Manky’s foot. As Manky drilled in, a little hesitant at first, Palmer lowered his head again despite the intense sensations coursing through his veins. There was an intense pressure in his ass, Manky’s entire girthy manhood stretching him to accommodate it. At last, Manky was in him, and Palmer’s tongue was on the hairy top of Manky’s foot. It smelled more of spit than anything else now, but Palmer could still sense the podiatric funk emanating off it and enveloping his face in its goodness. Manky had never felt anything like this. He whooped and hollered. His foot sent little shocks of pleasure up his body, which surprised him — he’d never been into his feet being worshiped before. But he couldn’t deny that that tongue on his foot was somehow more pleasurable than any of the women he’d ever fucked. It wasn’t just the foot, but that definitely felt good — even more than that it was how Manky could simply ram as hard as he wanted. Palmer seemed willing to take anything, and indeed was more focused on Manky’s foot than the cock splitting his ass open. Manky could use all of his power and his weight to piston his dick in and out, making the entire sleeper cab shake as he orgasmed deep in Palmer’s ass. Palmer clenched down on him, moaning into his feet, tongue lolling out over his toes. Cum sprayed into Palmer’s ass, great gobs of creamy juices that had built up in his week or so on the road since he last blew his wad. Manky roared and pounded on his chest with one hand, while his other kneaded the flesh of Palmer’s asscheeks. “Oh god!” Palmer moaned, his voice breaking. Waves of intense sensation wracked his body, and his hands tightened into claws that dug into the firm flesh of Manky’s body. Manky just grunted, the sound loud and resonant in Palmer’s ear, a grunt that turned into an ear-aching moan. Palmer squirmed as cum filled him up. He felt it seeping through his flesh and soaking into his body. Exquisite ecstasy coursing through his veins, Palmer shot his own load too, right into his hand. He hadn’t cum or even gotten a hardon since his setting out for the diner — hadn’t even thought about it — but now that he was with Knuckle, Palmer felt the stress melt away. A long chest-rattling moan chambered out of his chest, and still more and more jizz poured out of him. When he had finished, he let it slip out and onto the top of Manky’s foot. It plopped there hotly and Palmer’s tongue snaked out to slurp it all up. Manky watched with a shocked, disgusted look on his face, but this all felt too good to worry about a little cum on his bare foot. “Well, shit, man,” Manky said with a chuckle. “You gonna pay me, right? Don’t stiff me.” He now thought he should have got the money upfront, but it was too late now. He was spent, breathless and sweaty, his chest hair matted to his skin. “I won’t,” Palmer said. He curled up into Manky’s heavy arms. He sucked salty sweat off his bicep as he pulled out his wad of cash. It was all twenties and he knew exactly how much it was — five hundred dollars. But Palmer still made a big show of counting it anyway, because he liked being the center of Manky’s attention, and anyway, Manky expected him to count it. Palmer settled himself, ensconced in Manky’s sweaty arms, as he counted out the twenty dollar bills. When he handed over the wad of dollars, Manky took the cash and grunted. Palmer picked up his limp dick and kissed the tip, then slurped off the fluids clinging to it. It was funky like Manky’s foot, but assy, moist and goopy. Palmer teased it with his tongue, making Manky throw his head back and moan. “Shit, man… you wanna spend the night in my sleeper here wit’ me?” Manky said with an awkward grunt. It was hard enough to ask a girl out, he thought, asking a guy to spend the night in his sleeper was even harder. But he was confident Palmer would say yes, and indeed Palmer giggled and nuzzled his chest even closer. His hand massaged Manky’s body. “Thanks,” Palmer said. “I’m glad I ran into you. You have the greatest trucker funk I’ve ever tasted.” That was true, and Palmer was eager to spend the night here with him. The sleeper was rank with footiness and Palmer couldn’t wait to marinate in Manky’s body all night long.
Baldo had a shaved head. He was short, but thick-bodied, built like a bull, complete with a squashed nose and cauliflower ears, both remnants from his former career as a boxer. Though his head was bald, he was the hairiest one there, and his chest hair poked out from under his tuxedo.
