Rob is in for it now! He’s agreed to service a filthy, nasty boxer who refuses to shower. He’s the brutish Russian Ivan Morozov, and he’s too raunchy for women… Luckily that makes him perfect for Rob!
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It was not surprising that girls found Ivan Morozov unappealing. He was a macho boxer with a square face, a harsh glare and a hairy chest, and he didn’t shower regularly — even after working out, he sometimes left without showering. He seemed to take pride in filth, and that was something Rob Winthrop appreciated very much.
He watched Ivan leave the locker room, shower-free, with a guilty look on his face like he was getting away with something. Ivan’s powerful body shifted up and down with each step he took. His shirt was plastered to his skin from the sweat that he had never washed off, and the smell of manhood and feet and body hair accompanied him like an aura. It was an aura Rob found alluring and arousing.
The reason Rob watched him was that he was hired to service Ivan, specifically, to jack him off. Rob loved big sweaty alpha men. As a keen admirer of the male form, Rob had strong opinions and male physiques and musks and armpits, all that kind of thing, and Ivan was delectable in every way. His manhood was brutish and harsh, mean, unforgiving. That was what Rob sought in a man. Women did not see Ivan the same way, nor did they smell him the same way. Women do not know how to choose a man. Despite their foolishness, Ivan had eyes only for women, and Rob had a nose only for men like Ivan.
It didn’t take long for Rob to observe that, when Mr. Palaslov (his gopnik trainer) was not around, Ivan never showered, he just let Rob lick him from head to toe and jack him off in the banya attached to the Cornerside Gym of Coney Island. Ivan always responded as though he was shocked and disgusted that anyone would want to lick his sweat, but it didn’t slow Rob down anyway, and Ivan remained surprised no matter how often it happened.
It seemed Mr. Palaslov had to tell Ivan to shower, so when the trainer wasn’t around, Ivan stayed sweaty. He seemed to like to be that way, and he didn’t even care that it was a turnoff to women, not that there were many women at this gym.
That was where Rob worked, the Coney Island franchise of the Cornerside Gym. They were a nationwide chain, known mainly for not marketing to women — women were allowed to join but rarely did. It was a place for men’s men. It was a home gym for boxers, MMA fighters, ex-cons and semi-pro athletes, and it did not have a single scheduled spin class.
Or at least the Cornerside Gym of Coney Island didn’t. Maybe some did, Rob didn’t know. There was no rule against it.
In fact, Rob not only worked at the Cornerside Gym of Coney Island, he owned it. Not many people knew that though. If he wanted to attract more women, he could have, or at least he could have tried.
Rob didn’t want more women. He wanted men, and he wanted them horny.
He came in one morning, about two minutes late for opening, and Ivan stood outside the door with a frown like he had been personally wronged. Outside a matronly babushka begged, draped in a faded Pavlovsky shawl. Ivan ignored her on the way in, but Rob gave her a few dollars.
“You are late, yes?”
“Yeah, sorry, sorry, Ivan,” Rob said.
“Your boss will havv anger at you.”
Rob nodded. Ivan didn’t know Rob was his own boss. He unlocked the door to the gym.
“You will do better,” Ivan said with a grunt. He went straight to one of the weightlifting machines, as though it was a slot machine and he was a compulsive gambler with a hot tip about it.
Rob wasn’t supposed to let anyone start working out until he had completed the morning procedure. He was supposed to check every single one of the machines. He did not do that. He did not turn on the wifi — which he turned off at night to keep the hobos away — and he did not turn on the teevee in the corner, he hadn’t yet opened any of the supply closets or moved supplies like the medicine balls into place, he hadn’t replaced the cleaning wipes. It was against corporate policy to be open without doing all those things.
But Ivan didn’t care, and neither did Rob. Ivan did not use any the wifi, medicine balls or cleaning wipes. As Rob went through that checklist, he kept sneaking glances at the shirtless Ivan.
When it looked like Ivan was finishing up an hour or two later, Rob met him in the locker room. His chest gleamed, the hair on his head greasy and wild. It looked like he hadn’t showered for a few days, and the ripe scent of his armpits and feet made Rob’s eyes water.
“You are pervert addicted to chacking off, yes?” Ivan made a masturbation hand-gesture as he came into the gym-cum-banya, where Rob waited for him.
Ivan sneered at Rob when he saw him waiting in the banya. That was another thing Rob had not gotten ready on time, and he’d only a few minutes ago got the steam started. The banya was still warm but dry, and the seats were ice cold. They’d be warming up soon though, as the steam rose from the barrel of heated stones and water.
The harsh accent in Ivan’s words sent a chill up Rob’s spine. Everything Ivan said sounded like a threat.
“You are pervert, yes?” he asked again.
Ivan was always insulting Rob. He thought it was hilarious to wipe his ball-sweat off on the face of some smiling man — Rob had seen him do that, to complete strangers — and Ivan never smiled. Neither did Mr. Palaslov, or as far as Rob could tell, any Russian man. Or Russian woman. Hell, Russian vodka was dour, and caviar has never told a joke.
“Back hurts, is very sore,” Ivan said gruffly. He drank a big thermos of probably vodka and sat, his tatted muscles gleaming with sweat, on the bench in the aisle between rows of lockers. He guzzled it quickly, droplets of liquor running down his square chin, then laid down without waiting for a response from Rob. “Rub it. Massage. You can chack me soon. Fix back.”
“I’m not a masseur-“
“Rub me. Do it correctly, or I shall crush you like the beet.”
“Fine, fine, relax,” Rob said. He placed his hands on Ivan’s hot hairy back. Ivan had been hitting a punching bag for most of the last hour, so his shoulders were hot and palpably aching, slick with sweat that glistened in the brilliant light of the banya.
As his hands worked through the tangled web of hair, Rob pressed down on the big slab of muscle there. He was glad to have a chance to be near Ivan without Mr. Palaslov around, as Mr. Palaslov kept Ivan under his tight control. Usually, the tracksuited Mr. Palaslov crouched and ate sunflower seeds as he watched Ivan work out.
His skin glistened under the brilliant fluorescent lighting of the gym, and the layers of dried-on and recent-fresh sweat added a bouquet of intense scents to the banya’s. Ivan let out a long, low rib-rattling sigh as his muscles relaxed. His strapping mass of meat expanded beneath Rob’s fingers as his tension melted away.
“That is feeling good,” Ivan said. “Come here.” He beckoned Rob, who wasn’t sure what he wanted at first — Rob was as physically close as could be. Then it became apparent that Ivan wanted to whisper something to him, and Rob put his face in front of Ivan’s, so he could smell the cheap-toothpaste scent of his breath condensing on Rob’s cheek.
Much to Rob’s surprise, however, Ivan didn’t whisper anything to him. Instead, he kissed Rob, right on the lips. It was not exactly a chaste kiss — Rob got the distinct impression that Ivan was desperately horny, and he felt the rock-hard erection in his shorts — but there was no tongue and only a bit of real passion.
Then Ivan pushed him away. He sneered, “You are nasty. Lick asshole.”
Rob shuddered with anticipation, and he raced to drop to his knees. He wanted more than anything to lick Ivan’s ass.
When Rob kneeled before him, Ivan turned around and bent over. He bent his head low, and he grabbed his ankles with both hands. That helped spread his cheeks and gave Rob perfect access to his ass. He kissed first one, then the other, of those big meaty orbs, which were plump and round and dim-colored as though stained with sweat and cheap underwear. His ass was gently furry, warm and inviting, and Rob couldn’t wait to taste his manhood.
When he spread those asscheeks, a thick whiff of ass-scent hit his nostrils. Rob inhaled deeply, and blushed from embarrassment even though nobody was around who could see him. The locker room was not far away, and he could hear gruff voices echoing in the linoleum-lined shower. The gym was starting to fill up. As manager — and the only employee on duty — he should have been out there. There was no way Rob would miss this though.
The jockstrap that cradled Ivan’s ass was soaked with sweat, and Rob started off by sucking the salt off the elastic. He licked the small of Ivan’s back, then slowly dragged his tongue through that hair-choked asscrack.
A craggy moan arise from Ivan’s mouth. Few people touched him affectionately, and he reacted to Rob’s soft touch as though he had been craving it for years.
As soon as Rob’s tongue hit the grimy crack, Ivan’s muscles tensed. He lifted his ass up and pushed it back against Rob’s face, then he roared in frustration, grabbed Rob by the hair and held his head in place as he ground his ass against Rob’s mouth. He had to twist his upper half so he could Rob by the head while keep his ass in Rob’s mouth. Rob stretched his jaws open as wide as he could, letting that filthy mat of asshair flow into his mouth.
The taste was acrid and eye-wateringly potent. Rob lapped at the grimy asscrack as he reached the ultimate goal: that hole. He had never thought he would enjoy giving a rimjob this much, especially an unclean one, but then Rob had never had access to such a beast of a man before.
His tongue plunged right in Ivan’s waiting hole. Ivan groaned and bucked as though he had been waiting for this exact moment, and his hips gyrated as though he was penetrating a woman with his cock.
With his body just above the surface of the massage table, Ivan’s dick was reachable by Rob’s hands. He stretched around Ivan’s burly body, gripped his cock and gave it a stroke.
As soon as he touched it, Ivan bucked again, and his asshole puckered around Rob’s tongue. His sphincter gripped Rob’s tongue tight and held on, as Rob flickered against Ivan’s prostate, every moment of contact sending uncontrollable waves of pleasure up Ivan’s spine. The muscles of his hairy back rippled.
“Fuck yesss…”
The taste of Ivan’s body hit Rob hard, and he guzzled down every drop. He tasted vaguely of dill, of ferns, of the endless taiga and reindeer antlers, and his scent accentuated the overwhelming flavor. The sound of the banya faded, until the roar of rushing water and the hot-water heater mixed equally with the more distant sound of recorded music played by a balalaika orchestra and men dancing the prisyadka to the pounding beat.
Without a warning, Ivan turned around, and his cock battered Rob in the face. Ivan growled. He tried to force it into Rob’s mouth, but he didn’t try to aim it, so he just rammed his dick over and over into Rob’s face.
Rob opened his mouth, and Ivan’s cock slipped past his lips. It was fat and hard, veiny, throbbing and meaty. Rob swallowed as much as he could, and then Ivan forced a little more down his throat. A clench enveloped Rob, who hadn’t had time to take a deep breath before Ivan forced his dick in. Then he couldn’t breathe, his body clenched, and his hands clutched Ivan’s well-muscled asscheeks.
The taste was potent and salty, ripe with layers of sweat. It had been some time since Ivan had had a proper shower, Rob suspected. He stank of manhood, of feet, of the funk that reminded Rob of a martial arts dojo.
“Hmmm… Little man,” Ivan said with a low baritone moan that made his chest moan and his veiny shaft throb on Rob’s tongue.
A jet of precum hit the back of Rob’s throat, so voluminous that Rob first thought it was a premature ejaculation. But it was just a mouthful of cream, thick and rich and coating his mouth, leaking down his chin and onto the floor.
Ivan seemed unwilling to touch Rob now, his hands hovering behind him. He kept bending his waist though, as though fucking an invisible woman’s pussy. He growled above Rob’s head. His grimy cock limpened as it flopped over Rob’s face and left a lawyer of fluids there.
“I will ruin ass-hole,” Ivan said in a rough, crackly voice. He pulled his dick out, and another spurt of prejizz ejaculated out onto Rob’s face. That must have felt good, Rob thought, but Ivan didn’t react as though any of this felt good. He kept a sneer on his face, as though he was in pain but too proud to show it.
He got behind Rob, and his powerful muscles flexed all at once as he forced Rob into position. He pushed his head to the ground, lifting his ass up as high as it could go. “It is now,” he said simply, then rammed his dick into Rob’s ass.
A long almost painful-sounding moan came outta Rob, as spasms of both pain and pleasure hit his body hard. Ivan used no lube, only sweat, and his massive cock stretched Rob’s hole. If Ivan had gone slowly enough to let Rob adjust, the pain would have been minimal, but Ivan had no desire for or awareness of that fact, and he forced his dick despite Rob’s contortions and his pained painting.
One hand held Rob in place by the nape, his other staying above the small of Rob’s back, ready to stop him from squirming away but unwilling to touch him otherwise. The pain in his ass was replaced bit by bit with spasms of bliss that wracked Rob’s body.
Rob stroked his own cock off with one hand. With the pain and pleasure of Ivan’s cock invading his ass, Rob was close to orgasm even when they began. Ivan’s whole body trembled, muscles rippling where they pressed against Rob’s back.
When Ivan groaned with pangs of an imminent orgasm, he pressed his chest down on Rob’s back. That meant his sweat-choked chest hair left a layer of grime on Rob’s spine and shoulderblades. Rob gradually lowered himself until he lay flat on his belly on the floor. Ivan pounded away above him.
Now that Rob was pinned onto the floor, Ivan could and did ram as hard as possible, like he was trying to push Rob into the floor itself. The pain was gone now, replaced only by a potent and mind-blowing ecstasy. Each thrust of Ivan’s hips sent his cock once again onto Rob’s prostate, and each time that multipled the sensations flowing through Rob’s veins.
Then, before Rob knew it, he was rolled over and sat on Ivan’s massive cock. That happened so fast he was dizzy, and he cried out while still begging for more. Ivan’s manjood impaled his ass, sending waves of ecstasy up from his prostate.
That was it, Rob could resist his orgasm no longer.
Cum flew from Rob’s cock and covered the surface of the banya’s bench. It sprayed over Ivan’s belly and chest, matting his hairs to his broad trunk. Ivan’s dick filled his ass and throbbed, the pain now entirely gone and replaced by pleasure. Rob cried out and whimpered, begging for more. The smell of semen filled the room and Rob’s nostrils as he lifted off that beautiful cock, now dripping with spit and assjuice.
Rob put his mouth on Ivan’s knob, and the taste of his own ass flooded him. It was grimy and filthy, making him shudder in shame. Ivan looked down his nose at him. He said something in Russian, but Rob didn’t need to speak the language to get what he said. He was being derisive, insulting, he was shaming Rob, asking if his father knew how shameful he was.
The answer to that question was yes, but Rob didn’t say so. His mouth was full of his own assjuice, which clung to Ivan’s shaft. Rob slobbered on it, letting the foul flavor trigger gag after gag, making him spit up into Ivan’s bushy crotch. His cock kept forcing its way down Rob’s throat, as Ivan attempted to use his gullet like a fleshlight.
Finally Ivan grunted like he was in pain. He gripped Rob’s head to pound his meat down his throat. Ivan spurted so much jizz in Rob’s mouth he choked on it and pulled his head away, but Ivan forced his head to stay in position.
Though Rob gagged uncontrollably around Ivan’s spasming cocktip in his throat, he managed to hold onto Ivan’s dick. He kept stroking his shaft with both hands. That made jizz com spurting out in great long flows. Most of it filled Rob’s mouth, but the need for oxygen was too great, and Rob pulled off while Ivan was still cumming. He kept stroking his shaft with both hands though, and when he had recovered his breath, he went back to slurping on Ivan’s dick.
Ivan groaned. He sat up and turned around. Cum coated his chest, and he smiled at Rob in an almost seductive way. He didn’t need to ask Rob to lick it up, but Rob knew that was what he wanted. For once, Ivan wanted something clean.
He started at Ivan’s bellybutton and licked upwards, savoring every drop of that creamy cum. He almost stopped when he got to the upper chest and licked each bulbous pectoral muscle, that was the furthest limit of the cumspray’s reach.
But he had a feeling Ivan was willing to go farther. With cum dripping from his lips, Rob kissed Ivan on the grizzled neck and then lips. Ivan kissed back, and this time, their tongues interlocked. Ivan didn’t care that he tasted his own cum on Rob’s tongue, they sunk to the semeny massage table and laid there in each other’s arms.
“Hmmmm…” Rob murmured. His post-orgasmic exhaustion kept his body humming, but he couldn’t stop his fingers from exploring Ivan’s prison tats. He was a vor — a member of the Bratva, or Russian Mafia — though do not ever refer to it as the Russian Mafia, unless you want a lengthy and possibly violent explanation of how inaccurate that is — and his tattoos explained his position, role and history within the organization.
“You will want it in ass, yes?”
Rob looked up at him. “Say again?”
“I will do it in ass again. I can do it hard again, I have much cum and heavy balls,” he said. His craggy face was stony and yielded nothing. He lit a hand-rolled cigarette and puffed on it. “But you must pay.”
“You want me to pay you? To do me in the ass again?”
“Not in money. You must pay me in blue jeans,” Ivan said. “Five hundred blue jeans.”
Rob paused and furrowed his brow. “You want me to pay you in blue jeans?”
Ivan nodded. “Yes. Like Levi 500, John Wayne, Batman, pow-pow.” He mimed out shooting a gun into the air. “Two-pock Shacker.”
Rob stood up and put his hands on his hips. “I, uh… Does Batman wear jeans…? Nevermind. I don’t… I don’t have five hundred pairs of blue jeans, Ivan,” he said. “Can I give you cash-?”
“No. I do want it without my coach. He will take cash. It is easier for me to do importing of blue jeans into Russia. I will do must bribe,” he said. “Yes, indeed?”
“Fine…” Rob had no idea how to go about buying a five hundred blue jeans. Maybe some kind of uniform supplier? Who even wore jeans anymore? Russians, apparently. How much was Rob paying for this anyway?
But he desperately wanted to feel Ivan’s cock inside him, and the burly boxer was already stroking himself hard again. He had a huge uncut cock. It was moist with cum from his previous orgasm, and he flopped it in his callused grip.
Then Rob kissed it right on the cocktip. Ivan grumbled and let go of his pecker, laying flat on the massage table. All around Rob, the banya steamed up, as men in other rooms continued roasting themselves. Ivan’s dick had that rubbery, straining-to-get-hard feel when Rob’s tongue ran up and down the shaft. The astringent taste of Ivan’s sweat overwhelmed his tongue.
His foreskin retracted as his cock reached full erection in Rob’s grasp and in his mouth, Ivan let out a burly moan. With a smile, Rob mounted him, as Ivan still lay on the massage table. Rob lowered himself onto Ivan’s greased-up cock.
A twinge of pain ran up his spine. Ivan’s rod slipped into him, but Rob let no resistance slow him down. He bit his lip due to pain erupting in his backside. Yet he didn’t slow down at all. He lowered himself onto Ivan’s cock.
“Oh god, yes…” Rob moaned. His huge rod stretched Rob’s asshole wide, sending pangs of both pain and pleasure to rollick through his body. It was so intense and distracting that he didn’t notice at first that Ivan’s callused hand wrapped around his dick. As Rob rode him up and down, Ivan stroked Rob off.
That was a wild shock to Rob. Ivan seemed like such a tough-guy ex-con that he never even thought to ask for a handjob, and even though Ivan’s hand was rough and leathery, it sent wave after wave of pleasure to rock Rob’s spine. He moaned and groaned.
Both men orgasmed at the same time, with Rob unable to slow himself down any longer. The pleasure melting from his sensitive dick combined with the intense pounding in his butthole to send him over the edge, and a mind-blowing climax hit him so hard it almost hurt. He blew a fat load over Ivan’s prison-tatted chest.
Ivan shot a big wad of jizz deep into Rob’s ass, great creamy wads of it flowing into him. Despite having already cum once today, in this very banya, Ivan ejaculated another huge load, more and more erupting in Rob’s guts with every passing moment
Since Rob was seated on Ivan, Ivan’s cumload dripped out immediately, flowing into his unkempt pubic bush. Rob dismounted him and sheepishly grinned. “Thanks for that,” he said, as more and more cum dripped out of his ass. Rob smeared around his own jizz where it lay congealing on Ivan’s chest, which made Ivan’s muscles ripple and his pecs bounce.
Ivan said nothing until he stood, then found a bottle of vodka in his duffel bag. Still naked and gleaming with sweat, he took a long drink. “Do not thank me,” he said. “I will do arrangements for those bluejeans.”
The door opened. Mr. Palaslov stood there, munching on sunflower seeds from a baggie he held in one hand. He frowned at Rob.
“You did not do anything in the butt, did you?”
Rob was too embarrassed to answer right away, so Mr. Palaslov asked Ivan, who grunted something in Russian. They argued vituperatively, and, though Rob didn’t know the words, the meaning was clear — they argued over Rob. Mr. Palaslov glared at him.
Finally, after Rob had dressed, Mr. Palaslov said, “Get out of here, yankee. He is done with you.”