Inside the apartment, Jamella said something incomprehensivish and snuggled onto the couch, where she fell asleep fast as a drunk bitch on a couch. Thumper stood there like a disappointed nigga with a hardon and a sigh lingering in his lungs. “What’s wrong?” Rico asked. He done microwave up a “uncrustable”. You hearda that? It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it comes frozen and don’t got no crust on the bread. It’s the single limpest-dick thing to ever exist. A uncrustable is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for niggas whose mamas don’t love ‘em. Weak as lipton tea. Shit’s bullshit, nigga.
He was watching Shark Tank and eagered to see the result of the pitch, so he went back to the teevee then. Honky bitch both invented and was a high-protein cracker.
He was watching Shark Tank and eagered to see the result of the pitch, so he went back to the teevee then. Honky bitch both invented and was a high-protein cracker.
The jawn was bumping. It was nice that they ain’t gotta walk nowhere, just go down the stairs and boop, there they was, in Lipsweet, surrounded by girls in tight things that showed off they other things. They got asses too! Girls got nice asses now! Asses got better in the thirty-four years Thumper was in prison. Tits is flabbier though, and lips got worse. Why did lips even change? And eyebrows!? Back before, ain’t no man ever notice a woman’s eyebrows. Shit, if you surveyed men, they wouldn’t even remember if women got eyebrows. But women done spent the last thirty-four years coming up with innovative and unattractive things to do to they eyebrows.
Frowning spread like a bat virus while Thumper was locked up. Young folks be frowning at everything. Dissatisfaction rained like a queen’s pee-pee.
Rico’s eyes went open wide. “What if I wanna fuck a bitch?” Thumper shrugged. “If she down, we’ll double-tap her. Thwack-thwack. That’s our balls slappin’ togethuh, nigga. Mine’s the louder sound. Thwack-thwack-“ “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah-” Rico was doing his best impression of a broken record. But Thumper got no time for naysaying. Bet nobody even knows what a “broken record” is no more. Thumper asked Rico how a nigga listen to music nowadays, and Rico stopped his complaining about the bed long enough to give a very complicated answer. It was basically “on the phone”, nigga gotta call into some cloud or something. He kept saying “I Heart Radio”, but then when Thumper said there was music on the radio, Rico reacted like Thumper just lit a baby on fire.
He was mad on the frown train. Rico was a conductor on that train. He frowned at every single thing Thumper took outta his duffel bag. Thumper’s clothes was old and faded and mouse-nibbled, which made Rico double his frown. Thumper’s soap was in bar form, which Rico said was old-fashioned and awful — apparently a enlightened modern-day nigga do use “body wash” — that led to another doubling of Rico’s frown. Thumper had a box of tea, which Rico said only elderly honkies drank. Rico’s frown was exponential by then. That turned out to be a theme with young people. Frowning spread like a bat virus while Thumper was locked up. Young folks be frowning at everything. Dissatisfaction rained like a queen’s pee-pee.
Thumper was distracted by the waitresses. Lipsweet stay hiring the best waitresses — bunchesa ’em too, thronging. Thronging like commas, nigga.
Thumper was distracted by the waitresses. Lipsweet stay hiring the best waitresses — bunchesa ’em too, thronging. Thronging like commas, nigga. He ain’t barely seen a woman in three decades. The waitresses in Lipsweet wore tight little miniskirts that they bits was bursting outta. The one of ‘em, a blonde, got tits like juicy tornados, Thumper was besotted with them curves. Thumper got the ogle-eye, and he got it bad. It felt good though. He dragged along behind as Carson went to the back corridor, and Thumper kept his peepers trained on the females until he couldn’t see ’em no more.
Carson wore a nice shirt he buttoned up like a white man. Or maybe niggas did that now, shit’s bullshit.
He got showed to his new apartment by this nigga Carson, a bullet-shape darkskin homeboy who ran the Bloods of Allentown. Carson wore a nice shirt he buttoned up like a white man. Or maybe niggas did that now, shit’s bullshit. Back before, ain’t no nigga button up a shirt. Not a proper nigga anyway.
Maybe the top button, if you’s a California nigga. But Thumper don’t mess with the West Coast.
When the legendary boxer Thumper White is released from prison, he never thought he’d be rooming up with a doe-eyed prettyboy named Rico! Neither of them will ever be the same. That’s cuz Thumper gets horny sometimes, and he don’t take no for an answer when it comes from a darkskin slice of handsome pie with a pile of alluring frowns on top!
When a cruel and rugged cowboy gets drunk at a saloon, the town pansy is called to give him a taste of something more savory than whiskey! The cowboy is Alfie, a muscle-bound bully, and the pansy is Simon, who’s ready to get his rocks off whether Alfie wants it or not!
Can Alfie take the twink-on-ranchhand pounding that Simon is fixin’-a dole out?!
Simon was a dandy, in the parlance of the time. Lotta fellers in these parts discottoned to dandies, so Simon thought it might be a trap when Bud Mitchum came to see him. Bud worked at the only saloon in the town of Cheyenne in Wyoming Territory. “Reckon I needs a favor you might could enjoy givin’,” Bud said, his voice low and hesitant. He avoided making eye contact. Simon batted his eyes and shook his ass for Bud’s benefit. Bud blushed, his mustache bristling. “That sounds exciting,” Simon said. A lot of the men here in Cheyenne were willing to let Simon service them on account of there being no women around. Bud never had done so, however. That made Simon eager to see what he wanted. “But don’t just assume I’ll jerk you off just cuz you want it, I have standards and you hafta earn it-” Bud wrinkled his nose and jumped to interrupt him. “No! It ain’t like that. I… I is too muchuva gentleman to say it out loud, Simon. Jest come wit’ me. You’ll enjoy it, fo’ sho’re.” He turned on his heels and walked away with military precision, a legacy of his time in the Union Army during the Civil War. Simon had always thought Bud was appealing, in a short and lanky kind of way, but he had always been too strait-laced to let Simon service him. Wondering and hoping if maybe that was what Bud was offering, Simon hurried after him. He barely had time to put his hickory shirt on before following Bud into the center of town. That was where Lipsweet was, near Mr. Corrente’s apothecary on the main street. It was after one o’clock in the morning, so the apothecary was closed, of course, and Lipsweet was quiet and dark as well. It was deserted, but the smell of drunken cowboys lingered. It seemed to have been a good night, Simon thought, and he was disappointed no one came to get him. Normally at least one desperate gold-prospector or cowboy would come see him at the end of the night, but lately things had changed. A prostitute named Maryanne had shown up a few days ago. She was all the rage in Cheyenne, which meant Simon had been left behind. He was trying not to get jealous. Whores like Maryanne usually disappeared pretty soon, so Simon thought he’d be back to his old tricks quickly enough. “There he is,” Bud said. He pointed to a young cowboy sitting on a chair in the corner. Bud curled up his lip. “Tarnations! Alfie! Alfie!” Alfie startled and woke up then, bleary-eyed and sweaty. He said something, but his drunkenness was so advanced all that came out was an incomprehensible blur of syllables. It was something like mussu hulifu to Simon’s ears. Alfie was a local cowboy, one who had a reputation for being a drunk and a bully. He had a huge cock that he let Simon jerk off once before, though he had been mean the entire time and he even punched Simon when it was all over. He robbed and stole, and he had been perpetually on the verge of being run out of town. The only reason Sheriff Torkelson hadn’t ever done so was that Alfie worked on the Goodman ranch, which was big — Mr. Goodman had a lot of pull in this town. Alfie helped him enforce order among the farmworkers, ranchhands and cowboys who worked for him. Simon had heard legends of how Alfie kept order there. He had always dismissed it as mere rumor, but he liked imagining it on cold and sleepless nights — supposedly, Alfie made men who displeased him bend over and grab their ankles. Alfie rammed his massive meat inside them and tore them up from head to toe. When they recovered and could walk again, they always worked a hundred times harder to prevent another occurrence of the same punishment. But Simon didn’t think that was true, or maybe it had happened one time and the rumor mill had turned it into a nearly daily event. But now Alfie was passed out, and Simon wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about that. “You want me to take him back to the Goodman farm?” “What? Can you? If you can-“ “No, obviously not. Am I supposed to carry him? He’s three times my size,” Simon said with a laugh. “I couldn’t lift his arm up.” Bud furrowed his brow. “Yeah, that wasn’t my plan. I just want you to teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget. “Uh… He doesn’t look like he’s in a receptive mood to learn a lesson,” Simon said. He chuckled, then his eyes went wide as he saw Bud’s expectant expression on his face. Simon realized then that Bud was asking him to plow Alfie, just like Alfie was rumored to plow farmhands and cowboys. “Oh,” Simon said. “Are you… serious?” “I told him it would gonna happen. If’n he passed out in my bar again, I’s gonna shove somethin’ up his ass. That’s what I said. I told him that. I warned him, a buncha times, over and over,” he said. “Sheriff Torkelson said I can do whatever I want-“ “Mr. Goodman?” “As long as he can still work tomorruh, Mr. Goodman don’t care either. I… I heard he hit you and called you names,” Bud said. “He’s always mean to me. I j’st don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him sit in here all night, he’ll just piss all over the place, then wake up and demand free booze again. I’ll have to get the Sheriff in here to kick him out. That’s been happening nearly every morning for weeks. You can humiliate him, Simon. Make him wake up with… y’know… gom on his face.” Simon shrugged. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of plowing a man who was nearly unconscious, but he wanted to try it. If he was ever going to, this bulging-muscled farmboy with a square jaw and grizzled chin was his ideal target. He approached Alfie, who was slumped over the wooden table now. His face was buried in his meaty arms, but he was clearly not asleep. He stirred every few seconds, and he seemed to be chewing on his own arm. He might have thought it was some body part of a woman. “Mo’ ‘um…” he said, lifting his head up suddenly. His eyes were big and wet, and at first Simon thought he was crying, then realized it was laughter. It was silent, like he barely breathed, but he was still laughing at something that happened before or maybe just a thousand in his head. He said that a few more times, “Mo’ ‘um…” Simon eventually reckoned it was more rum, and he grabbed a nearly empty bottle of rum off the bar. “I’ll be… in my room,” Bud said. “Please tell me when you’re done.” He looked sickly as he disappeared into the back of the bar. Then he poked his head out and said, “You can finish off that bottle, give him the rest if you want, Simon, but no more than that.” “Sure, fine,” Simon said. He drank a bit straight from the bottle. It was fine, sweet Barbadian rum. He showed it to Simon, who uselessly grabbed for it, his meaty bare arm shaking. His biceps were as big as Simon’s face, but he couldn’t reach the bottle now. His hands flailed around far from the bottle., which Simon dangled above his head. “Take off your clothes, Alfie, and I’ll let you have a drink from the bottle.” Alfie grumbled and mumbled. He unbuttoned his shirt but was too uncoordinated to be successful at it. He became frustrated and ripped the shirt. Buttons flew everywhere. Then he pulled his undershirt over his head, only to again be stymied by a lack of coordination. He ended up with the shirt covering his face but stuck, and he banged his head on the table as he roared in frustration. He almost fell to the floor. His frustration gave way to hysterical laughter. Finally he managed to get the shirt off. His hairy barrel chest gleamed with sweat. He continued to speak, but Simon didn’t understand a word he was saying. He grabbed for the bottle and Simon pushed his hand away. Alfie fell back into his chair, as though he didn’t realize he could simply overpower Simon. “Lemme see your dick. Drop your trousers,” Simon said, shaking one finger at him like a schoolmarm. Alfie was drunk enough to be suggestible, and he reacted as though Simon was an authority figure he had to obey. It wasn’t clear if he recognized Simon at all. Alfie blushed and stood on swaying legs. He dropped his leather britches and the smell of his crotch hit Simon’s senses. It was a musty and warm scent that made Simon excited to get going. Then he saw Alfie’s big slab of meat. Simon had jerked him off in the alley behind this very bar, but he had never seen it in good light. He whistled his approval and licked his lips. It was nearly a foot long and as thick as a small man’s forearm. Using a big brandy glass so it would be hard to gauge exactly how much was in there, Simon poured him a bit of rum. It wasn’t much. Alfie looked at it cross-eyed as though he had no idea what it was, then he drank it and gurgled appreciatively. “There you go, good job, Alfie,” Simon said. He kept his voice kind and feminine, both because it was easier for him and because he didn’t want to accidentally provoke Alfie into drunken rage. Simon wanted to get Alfie to take off Simon’s trousers as well, but he was such a fumbling fool right now that might have taken a long time and he might have ripped the fabric like he ripped his own shirt. Simon pulled off his own shirt and pants himself, shivering in the chilly night air. “Szhin?” Alfie asked. He sounded hopeful. After he repeated it a few times, Simon reckoned he was asking for gin. “Maybe in a bit, Alfie. First you need to do what you promised. You don’t want to be a welcher, right?” “Nevuh…” He burped, and the rancid smell hit Simon on the face. Even though it smelled bad, the masculine aroma turned Simon on. He sat on the wooden table right in front of Alfie. “You promised me you’d open your mouth for me? Do you remember that?” He shook his head and furrowed his brow. He frowned. “Misshuh ‘oouhhn shay i’?” Again, Simon struggled to understand, then heard Mister Goodman said it? “Yes! Mister Goodman said you have to do this,” Simon said. He cocked his head to the side. “Does Mister Goodman make you jerk him off?” Alfie nodded glumly. He rolled his eyes. “He ish mean…” “Ah, well… Yeah, it’s sort of an epidemic over there, I guess. I should start working for the Goodmans,” Simon said to himself. “I-“ “Yoo err too leetle,” Alfie said. He made a bicep with his right arm, which sent a thrill up Simon’s spine. He told Alfie to do it again, and Simon caressed those big muscles. He kissed each side of the bicep and licked the trail-dust and drying sweat off. Alfie giggled like a ticklish boy. “Oh, you’re right. I couldn’t be a farmhand,” Simon said. He laughed along with Alfie, who was too drunk to keep laughing out loud, so he just chuckled quietly. He reached for the bottle of rum again but Simon kept it out of arm’s length. Alfie looked disappointed. Simon scooted closer to the edge of the table. His feet rested on Alfie’s thighs, and his toes curled around those hairy trunk-like thigh muscles. His foot roamed forward to Alfie’s dick, which was limp and clammy but jumped into life as soon as he touched it. He stroked the shaft with his toes, and Simon closed his eyes as Alfie groaned. Taking Alfie’s hand in his, Simon guided it to his own dick. Alfie looked on as though it was happening to someone else. He laughed nervously when his hand wrapped around Simon’s dick. He stroked it slowly and lowered his head. “Good, I’ll tell Mister Goodman you did a good job,” Simon said. “Now lower your head.” Alfie had definitely done this before, Simon realized — Mr. Goodman must have demanded his mouth before, no doubt as a condition of remaining in his employ. That was why Goodman refused to fire him no matter what. Alfie lowered his head and swallowed Simon’s dick to the root. He was so big his throat was cavernous, and it slid right in. He gagged as soon as it touched his tongue, but that didn’t slow him down at all. His giant head had to stretch to get that low — he was so much taller than Simon that it was difficult to get his head down to Simon’s crotch even with Simon sitting on the table in front of him. Intense pleasure rolled up Simon’s spine as his cock disappeared in Alfie’s maw and Simon’s nose rammed into his crotch hair. He gasped and guided Alfie’s head. It was not an expert job — it was sloppy and clumsy — but it was not that bad, and the awkwardness of it made it even more intense in Simon’s mind. His dick straightened and stiffened right away, and Alfie gagged with every motion of his head. Despite his apparent dislike for the taste of Simon’s dick, Alfie didn’t resist at all, which Simon assumed was because he had been jerking off his boss for awhile. It seemed he was drunk enough that once he got started, he continued without giving it much thought, even as his body choked and rejected the cock in his mouth. “Oh damn…” Simon’s voice broke. Alfie’s scruffy chin scratched at Simon’s flesh as he jerked, his chiseled jaw stretching to get Simon’s thickness in his mouth. His tongue slathered spit up and down the shaft, though Simon could perceive the drunken awkwardness even in the motion of his tongue as it pleasured him — even the man’s tongue was drunk. Simon’s hips flexed, humping that magnificent square jaw. Simon was shocked at how goood it felt, despite Alfie’s drunkenness and lack of desire. “If you get the whole thing in your throat and hold it there for five seconds, I’ll pour you another drink,” Simon said. Alfie nodded, moisture twinkling in his eyes as he struggled for air. Then he did as Simon said, forcing his mouth all the way down on Simon’s dick. He gagged profusely as his nose nestled in Simon’s pubic hair. Simon held onto the thick mop of hair on his head as though he could force him to remain in place even though he was so much smaller than Alfie. Simon counted out five seconds but made it so slow it was closer to twenty seconds. “Good job, Alfie. Good boy.” Simon’s voice broke as his dick spasmed in Alfie’s throat. Alfie retched up a big ball of saliva that landed on the table and dripped onto the floor. He took a deep breath when he finally pulled away again. Simon stepped forward, literally standing on the man’s thighs like a little boy hugging his father. He caressed those hairy chest muscles as he climbed up to Alfie’s shoulders. With his fingers on Alfie’s forehead, Simon pushed his head back and then dropped his balls into Alfie’s mouth. Alfie again gagged when he jerked on those sweaty, hairy orbs. He coughed and sputtered, and Simon looked into those dark quivering eyes as he spread the saliva all over the man’s grizzled face. Sensing that he was going to cum if he didn’t move on soon, Simon jumped down to the ground. He again poured Alfie a small drink of gin, which Alfie chugged before slamming the brandy glass back down on the table. In moments, Alfie seemed to have forgotten the disgust and shame he felt when jerking on Simon’s dick. He might have forgotten entirely what happened. “Mo’ ‘um!” he said once again. “You can have some more rum once you finish,” Simon said. “Get on your knees here on the floor, and bend over the chair.” Alfie moved very slowly, on weak, hesitant knees. He dropped to the ground and bent over the chair he had just been sitting in. He didn’t seem to understand where this was going, so he just draped his arms and upper chest over the chair at first. “No, you have to lean up,” Simon said, tugging on those massive arms. Alfie finally realized what he was supposed to do and crawled forward until his ass was in the air, again like a little boy, this time preparing to be spanked. Simon hadn’t intended that, but his big hairy asscheeks beckoned, and Simon decided to give them a smack. He hit as hard as he could, making a loud slapping sound. But Alfie didn’t even seem to notice. He looked around the bar as though seeing it from this height was mesmerizing. Simon slipped a finger between those hairy cheeks and found the man’s tight hole — though he noticed it wasn’t as tight as most normal men. He had been penetrated before, Simon thought, presumably by Mr. Goodman. He pushed his finger in. Alfie yelped and squirmed, and his ass clenched around the finger. Simon sighed and used his free hand to caress Alfie’s strapping back muscles. “Ah, ‘amm, a ooss,” Alfie said, insistently, as though it was very important. Simon made some supportive clucking sounds but didn’t both responding. Alfie tried to sneak a hand up and grab the bottle of rum, which was virtually empty, but he moved so slow that Simon just grabbed it out of the way. He was going to put it on the floor, then took the neck and pushed it between those asscheeks. “I’ll let you drink from the bottle, Alfie, but you gotta loosen up a bit,” he said. He swiped the neck of the bottle between those asscheeks and under the man’s sweaty ballsack. Alfie grunted and heaved, opening up his ass. Simon pushed the open neck into his asshole, and Alfie let out a pained snort. He banged his face into the wooden chair as he let out a howl of pain. He ground his face into the wood while Simon pushed the bottle’s neck into his ass. When he pulled it out, the opening was sticky with assjuice and sweat. He passed the bottle to Alfie’s face, and Alfie wrinkled his nose as he tried to drink from it. The ass-slime smeared all over his face, and much of the rum missed his mouth, but Alfie didn’t seem to notice. Simon slammed his own dick into Alfie’s ass while it was still loose. It immediately tightened around him, and Alfie grunted loudly. He squirmed beneath Simon’s grasp as Simon climbed atop his back. Alfie was so huge that it was awkward getting in position, but Simon enjoyed climbing up his muscular back. Pounding his dick in and out as he stood on the edge of the chair, Simon gripped Alfie’s greasy black hair. Alfie squirmed and moaned, the motion making Simon’s dick feel even better as he plundered that broad farmhand ass. The man’s ass tightened around Simon’s dick so much that his knees went weak from the intense pleasure. He grunted and groaned, losing all of his feminine grace; he rutted like an animal atop Alfie, whose pained contortions were slow, as though he was struggling through a pool of molasses. His speed grew — Simon so rarely topped that he had been unsure how he could handle such a big man beneath him. But he soon got the hang of it, and Alfie’s heavy panting as he struggled turned Simon on even more. His own orgasm came on quickly, and Simon made sure to pull out before it actually happened. He ran around the table and rammed his ass-covered dick into Alfie’s open mouth. Alfie gagged and retched but accepted it. He made a sour face as he tasted his own ass. “How’s that taste, Alfie? You’re doing real good, boy…” Simon said. Incredible pleasure like nothing he had ever experienced washed over his body then, and he sprayed his cum right in Alfie’s mouth. Alfie sputtered, spitting most of it out as his body rejected the salty issue. With sexual bliss rollicking his petite frame, Simon sighed. He smeared all the cum over Alfie’s sun-darkened face, its pearly whiteness contrasting with his swarthy skin. Then Simon reinserted the bottle into his tired ass. Alfie yelped as tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to wipe his face off but Simon pushed his hand away. He looked Alfie in the eye as he worked that bottle back in and out of the man’s ass. Meanwhile Simon let his other hand explore Alfie’s body. He grabbed his giant cock, which was half-hard and dangling next to the chair on which Alfie was still bent over. Simon gave it a stroke and giggled as Alfie moaned. He seemed to forget about the pain in his ass. He closed his eyes and submitted to Simon’s hand. In no time, Alfie shot his load as well. Simon was waiting for it, as the man’s bulky muscles tensed and flexed. Cum sprayed into Simon’s waiting hand. Alfie gasped as though his orgasm was painful which Simon supposed it probably was since that bottle was still in Alfie’s ass. “Alright, you just need to lick this up, boy,” Simon said, keeping his voice as stern as possible. The thick cum of Alfie’s nut sat hotly, steaming and dense, on Simon’s hand. He held his palm in front of Alfie’s face. Alfie seemed to accept that he had to do what Simon said, and he grumbled but licked. He gagged and trembled as soon as he tasted his own thick creamy cum. That was fine with Simon, who didn’t really want him to swallow it all. He laughed at Alfie’s gagging and smeared the cum over his face, which was now shiny with juices and fluids. He removed the bottle from Alfie’s ass and again allowed him to drink from it. Alfie breathed a sigh of relief and again didn’t seem to notice the taste of his own ass on the bottle. When he had finally swallowed every drop of ass-sweat-and-rum, Simon replaced the bottle in his ass. Alfie accepted it easily this time. Then he slipped off the edge of the chair, collaping into a pile of sleeping muscle on the floor. It was obvious that that was it. He was out for the night and wouldn’t be waking up no matter what. Simon quickly replaced his own clothes. He wished he could stay here all night, but he didn’t want to be here when Alfie woke up. He was covered in semen and assjuice, and he had a bottle sticking out of his rear. He was going to be humiliated and furious when he woke up, Simon thought with a sense of satisfaction. He knocked on Bud’s door and said he was done. Bud sighed as though he had been trying to forget about the lavender nastiness happening in his bar, but he said alright and thanked Simon. “I could never have brought myself to do that,” Bud said when he opened the door to his room. He blushed a bright red. “I hope you taught him a lesson. I’ll make sure Sheriff Torkelson is there when he wakes up, so there’ll be a witness.” “And you won’t tell him it was me?” He shook his head. “I’ll just tell him he was drunk and I couldn’t stop him from begging a bunch of cowboys to use his body. I’ll say he did it for a few free drinks.” “Oh, Bud… You have such wonderful ideas,” Simon said. Come get me if you have any trouble with anyone else.”
When Rashid sees a gas mask, it arouses strange feelings in him, feelings that he can’t help but act on! That means this alpha male bouncer at a nightclub is gonna bend over and take whatever his buddy Teddy will give him.
Can Rashid handle the liberation the gas mask inspires in him?
Rashid Jenkins sighed. He was always glad when he got through another shift at the nightclub without seeing anything he couldn’t unsee. Rashid had been a bouncer for pretty much his entire adult life — when he wasn’t in prison for a spell — and he was working now at one of the highest-paying clubs in the city. So he was glad to have the job, even if it made him uncomfortable. It was unfortunate that it was a Leathertop Nightclub, which was part of the kink-and-fetish scene. That meant the freaks came dressed in black leather and the waitresses went into the back and wielded whips and chains, tying down the customers and doing… well, Rashid didn’t entirely know what they did, because he was a god-fearing man. He tried not to think about it, and he never went past the front room. The front room itself was just a normal bar, and it was there that Rashid went at the end of the night. He had taken to getting a drink from Teddy, the bartender, who was a flat-leaf, limp-wrist sissy hunk of honey. Rashid made sure to snarl and look dour every time he sat down because he didn’t want Teddy to think he was friendly. Bouncers aren’t sposedta be friendly. The bar emptied early tonight. As it neared closing time, the last of the customers either left or went into a backroom with a waitress/dominatrix. Only one waitress remained, the plump white one with leather straps separating her fat into foldy chunks — Ellendra. Rashid gave her a polite nod but no smile — he don’t want her thinking he’s flirting — and he sat down at the freshly-wiped bar. Teddy slammed his cell phone onto the counter. He bit his lip and held back tears, his elfin face scrunched up tight. “Hi, Rashid,” Teddy said, his high voice nasal with repressed tears. “Bourbon?” Rashid nodded. His heart stumbled as he realized he was supposed to ask what was wrong — he wasn’t expecting emotions in a bar like this. Not like that. That’s… He wrinkled his nose. Honkies, man… Honkies be tripping. He tried to stand up on a look both kind and unapproachable, but that’s a hard face to pull off. The bar was empty, and Teddy’s tears were blatant. Not acknowledging it was awkward. “What’s… uh, wrong?” Rashid finally asked, when that fat waitress was gone. She oughta have handled this, Rashid thought. She was a woman, Rashid was just a bouncer. The bartender sposedta be like a therapist, right? At least in the movies. Who’s the bartender’s sounding board? Who therapizes the therapist? Rashid, apparently. “Nothing’s wrong,” Teddy said, lips pursed so it was clear that that wasn’t true and that he would be explaining shortly. “My girlfriend dumped me. By text message. Not that that’s a problem, she’s a bitch. She’s a rank bitch.” “Oh, okay. Uh… Sorry to hear that.” “It’s not a problem,” Teddy said, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice broke, letting out a jagged cry of saprotude — that’s an emotion combining anger, sadness and self-righteousness, common in people who have been dumped. He sniffled and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his feet like he was about to explode. Then he remembered he was pouring Rashid a glass of bourbon, so he got out the bottle and spilled several shots worth before he got the glass set up. “I knew it! She deserves to be alone though. That fucking bitch!” He slammed the bourbon in front of Rashid. He had put way too much ice in it, but Rashid didn’t want to complain. He just sipped his ice-cold bourbon. There was a gas mask on the bar, which drew his attention. Rashid didn’t like to see the fetish gear normally, because it reminded him that he was surrounded by freaks. But the gas mask didn’t seem as bad — it had a function, after all, besides sex, even if it was an old-fashioned design that would probably be useless today for actual protection against poison gas attacks. It was fetish gear, but it seemed more appropriate, maybe even less sinful to Rashid. That wasn’t logical, but it made sense somewhere in his heart. And it did look like a real gas-mask, just old and battered, cuz it had been in this fetish club for who-knows-how long. It wasn’t manufactured as fetish gear, he was sure of that. Rashid wondered if it had ever been used. Did they use gas masks like that in… maybe Vietnam? World War 2 for sure, but it wasn’t that old. Maybe. “Girls are such a pain in the ass. They’re weak-willed, you know…” “Yeah.” “My last girlfriend dumped me and then immediately went out and sucked off like ten guys,” Teddy said. He threw his hands up, pacing behind the bar. “I really know how to pick ‘em!” Rashid winced and shook his head. The television screens behind Teddy all turned on, playing porno. Now that they were closed, the monitors should have stayed off, but sometimes they came off and on. They were linked to the lights in the back or something. Rashid’s eyes were drawn to the screen. His dick got hard in his pants as he half-listened to Teddy. The woman on screen was blonde, beautiful as hell from the back — she got that white-girl ass that Rashid craves — but she got kinduva dumptrucky face. Whatever though, Rashid could fuck her from behind. He was so engrossed in that that he ignored whatever else Teddy was saying, his relentless bitching about his girlfriend. His attention only returned to Teddy when the porno movie onscreen revealed itself to be bondage-themed. Rashid had no interest in that. The camera lingered on the knots and the rope pulling itself taut, her skin pressing against it hard. Rashid’s eyes and ears tuned back into Teddy’s ongoing litany of complaints. “And girls will not shut up!” Teddy said. “She never shut her mouth, not even when my father was telling us about his prostate cancer. I mean, am I right or what? He’s going off about the side effects of chemo, and she suddenly brings up some stupid reality show about penguin researchers banging each other in Antarctica.” “Yeah…-” Rashid said with a shrug he hoped was both kind and dismissive. His attention was now drawn away the TV screens playing porno and the milky rope-clad tits jiggling up and down. — instead, Rashid’s attention aimed itself at that damn gas mask. Who wore it in the backrooms? The man or the woman? The fact that it was here now suggested a woman. If a man wore it, he’d have brought it himself and taken it with him when he left for the night. So a woman wore it. While she got fucked. Massive cock ramming into her pussy or maybe her tight ass. Prolly not a massive cock. Prolly a normal honky peter. Rashid got a massive cock, but he assumed mosta the tubby crackers who come through his place had small manhoods. “I’m sorry,” Teddy said, biting back tears. He bit his lip. “I’m just really upset right now. Have another bourbon.” He slid a glass down the bar to Rashid, who was glad to have some more liquid to drown out the ice in his first bourbon. He sipped it and tried to watch the porno behind Teddy, forcing his eyes to lock on to the beautiful brunette’s bouncing tits and plump pussy onscreen. His dick was raging hard. But what he really wanted right now was that gas-mask. It prolly smelled awful, he thought. Awful but in a good way. Awful like a slut’s pussy. A clean slut, but still, a slut’s pussy. Right after a shower in her filthy apartment bathroom. Yeah… “I need to get laid,” Teddy said, blinking the last of his tears out of his eyes. He sniffled. “I won’t get over this without blowing a nut tonight. I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll just be tossing and turning, thinking of her.” He hurriedly typed out a text message, presumably asking someone if she could come over for sex. Maybe one of the waitresses. Rashid was glad that Teddy was getting ready to leave. Rashid wished he could leave too, but his shift didn’t technically end until he escorted Teddy to his car. Closing time was literally one minute ago, so he couldn’t hardly complain. Then Teddy threw his cell phone down on the counter again. He had gotten a text message he didn’t like, it seemed. He blinked back another wave of tears. “Those bastards,” he said. “Everyone’s taking her side.” “Sorry, man,” Rashid said. A thought had occurred to him: he could plow Teddy. Teddy did that, he was like that, a bit of a sissy. A small bit of a big sissy. He was petite and pale and kinda effeminate in his way. Rashid could always make Teddy keep it a secret, and he could deny it when Teddy inevitably spilled the beans. Teddy had spilled the beans last week that one of the other bouncers ramrodded him — this old head Thumper, he was like that, Rashid wasn’t surprised at all. And there was that gas mask sitting right there. He didn’t even understand why that was a kink — the bondage stuff he got, because there was a level of interaction there, it had an impact on the orgasm. Orgasms with a gas mask on were the same as orgasms without a gas mask on, except maybe a little stuffier and weirder. But why was it so arousing? Rashid hadn’t even heard Teddy rant for the last few minutes, but apparently his booty calls all told him not to come over. Possibly even his male friends had sent discourteous texts, Rashid hadn’t paid attention and now it seemed rude to reveal that by asking what happened. As Teddy shut down the bar, he raged over each text message he received. It seemed Teddy’s friends were really his girlfriend’s friends. That happens, a lot of men are like that. Not Rashid. He got his own niggas. When he hooks up with a female, she got her friends, he got his. Women on her side, men on Rashid’s. Simple, easy, copacetic. All good. Bet that gas-mask would make a man feel good. Covers up the face. No inhibitions. Rashid looked away from the gas-mask but just for a moment. Rashid did time in prison. He knew damn well how bad it hurt to take a cock in the ass, though he never let it happen to him. He saw it plenty, this rat-face nigga named Ratty rapping on a nigga backdoor. Ratty was like that. Yet he sensed that it might feel good for a sissy like Teddy. Rashid’d never admit to that, not publicly. But if the gas mask was on Teddy’s face… that wouldn’t be public at all. It would be like nobody saw, not even Teddy. Rashid could just feel. Nobody would believe Teddy if he said Rashid let him ramrod him with a gas mask on. Rashid couldn’t stop thinking about how it’d feel if Teddy’s cock came pushing into his ass, not like Ratty’s nasty crackhead pecker, Teddy’s dick wouldn’t be like that at all. It’d be clean and gentle… Rashid gulped. Teddy scowled and blushed a bright red. He looked down at the counter he had been polishing for an unreasonable amount of time. The bar was shut down, all he had to do was press the total button on the register and take the cash drawer into the office to lock away in the safe. He set about doing that. “Uh… Teddy,” Rashid said, looking around to be sure nobody was around. “You know… I uh, I sometimes mess around on the downlow. If you promise not to tell no one…” Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Really?!” Rashid stood up and grabbed the gas mask. “Here,” he said. “Put this on. If you cover up your face, I might be able to forget you’re not a girl,” he said. “But when this is done, you better stop crying about that ex. She ain’t worth it.” Teddy dropped to his knees next to the stool Rashid sat on. He didn’t even put the cash drawer away, he placed it on the floor next to himself, so he could rush right into it. He pulled down Rashid’s pants so quickly and so enthusiastically that Rashid was unsure if he wanted to do this. He considered backing out. But his worries vanished moments later when his dick flopped out in the warm, humid air of the nightclub, then filled Teddy’s throat. The familiar warmth of an expert mouth filled up Rashid’s mind, and he sighed. He finished the last of his bourbon, and he filled the glass again quietly so Teddy wouldn’t notice. His dick swelled to full erection. Rashid guided Teddy’s head up and down, glad to have the opportunity for a simple, consequence-free orgasm. His mouth stretched to swallow Rashid’s fat meat, and with a little concentration, Teddy managed to deep-throat him to the root. A sigh escaped from Rashid’s mouth. He needed this. And he didn’t need the gas-mask. He kept sneaking glances at it though. Sensing he needed to commiserate more, Rashid said, “Girls complain all the time, and they never tell you what they think. If they wanna dump you, they drag it out over like ten conversations over three months, like they get paid by the minute, man.” As he talked, he guided Teddy’s head up and down on his shaft. From his cock-filled murmurings, it didn’t sound like Teddy exactly bought Rashid’s explanation, but he didn’t stop jerking to argue. Rashid groaned as pleasure rocked his body. His cock was rock-hard now, throbbing, precum flowing onto Teddy’s tongue. “Damn… ” Rashid said, snorting back laughter. He poured out some more bourbon, and only then noticed that the porno had changed. Rashid was surprised at how not disgusted he was. He must be getting more comfortable with freaky stuff now that he was working at a kinky club. That thought was vaguely disquieting — his pastor, Reverend Chandler, had said that might happen, and Rashid refused to believe it. One of his hands roamed down and squeezed Teddy’s nipple. Rashid groaned when he realized what he was doing; it had been so instinctive he didn’t think about it until his hand was grasping for the breast that wasn’t there. Then Teddy pulled off and stood up. Rashid leaned in and kissed him on the lips, again without giving it a second thought. His mind told him to pull away, to smack Teddy even, for making him do this, even if Rashid knew Teddy hadn’t made him do a damn thing. Rashid didn’t even kiss girls so soon after they sucked cock because he didn’t want to taste his own dick, which was exactly what he tasted on Teddy’s tongue. When Rashid stopped kissing him, he looked down at his feet. He hoped Teddy didn’t say anything about that. Teddy must have sensed that desire, because he indeed said nothing. Instead, Teddy stroked both men’s cocks together, frotting with Rashid. Rashid bristled with pride at the realization that his dick was so much bigger than Teddy’s. He always liked showing it off. Without a word of warning — with only a sly, knowing grin — Teddy put the gas mask on, again like he had sensed what Rashid wanted without Rashid saying so. Immediately the kinky porn vanished to the back of Rashid’s mind. All he could think of was how alluring Teddy’s body was. Aside from the lack of tits and vagina, he had a very girlish shape, he thought. He kissed Teddy again, this time on the smooth neck, just below the mask, and then his lips trailed down to those nipples. “You got a nice smooth body, boi,” Rashid said with a low, seductive growl, embarrassed at himself even as he said it. Teddy moved to turn around, but stopped as Rashid took hold of both cocks. He was enjoying this jousting, and he didn’t want it to end. Teddy’s dick pulsated beneath Rashid’s fingers, its middling thickness and pale whiteness contrasting with Rashid’s meaty member and dark brown color. If it weren’t for that gas mask, Rashid was sure he would never have touched Teddy’s cock. He hadn’t done that since prison. As though he wasn’t in control of his body, Rashid found that he wanted to go much further than he ever thought he would. He blamed the gas mask. Without seeing Teddy’s face, it was easier to follow his instincts, no judgmental eyes staring at him. How had he ended up on his knees? Rashid didn’t consciously sink to the ground, but there he was just the same. If he wasn’t so much taller than Teddy that he had to stoop to reach his crotch, he would have started jerking him off without a second thought. As it was, he gave it only a very brief second thought, then deep-throated Teddy to the root, swallowing every inch of his cock. He choked a little on the smooth texture and lotion-scented flavor, but something about it was deeply fulfilling for Rashid. He moaned around the cockmeat in his mouth and gripped Teddy’s thin legs, which were smooth like a girl’s. He could really have pretended he was with a female, he thought, if it weren’t for the dick in his throat. He was surprised by how much it tasted like pussy. The sour flavor of precum hit Rashid’s tongue, and he moaned. He wanted more. Teddy’s thin fingers gripped Rashid’s kinky hair and guided his head up and down. His breathing was loud and labored, made louder by the action of the gas mask. His trim chest heaved for breath. His dick felt perfectly right in Rashid’s throat. It rubbed past his bristling mustache, and his heavy balls swung against Rashid’s grizzled chin. He felt weird, submitting to someone so much smaller than himself. But it was intensely arousing too. He felt Teddy’s graceful fingers dance along his shoulders, which seemed so broad as to be superhuman in comparison with Teddy’s tiny body. Rashid had played football in high school, and he retained that beefy body shape. The precum flowed like wine down his throat. He greedily guzzled every salty drop, no matter how it made his lips pucker and his mind race with confusion. He had never thought jerking off a man could feel so good. Then Rashid pulled off. He looked up at Teddy’s gas mask-clad face and frowned. “I don’t know why I’m doing this…” Teddy didn’t say anything. Rashid probably wouldn’t have been able to hear the words through the gas mask anyway, he thought, and he didn’t want to say anything. He knew what he wanted, and it filled him with embarrassment. But he knew he would never have such a perfect opportunity to try it. So he stood, glad to show off how much bigger he was than Teddy — he didn’t feel intimidated at all, but still, it was good to remind Teddy that he wasn’t really in charge, even with the gas mask. Rashid flexed his biceps and frowned at Teddy, but his face was concealed by the mask, so it was impossible to see if Teddy was intimidated or even if he had noticed at all. With his pants and underwear all the way around his ankles, Rashid sunk to all fours. He leaned his head near the floor to get his ass in the air. It was too high for Teddy to get in position, but Rashid liked making him work for it. He kept his ass up, and Teddy had to get on his toes so he could align his cock with Rashid’s asshole. Rashid’s back twitched with anticipatory excitement. But after just sliding his dick between Rashid’s cheeks for a few moments, he paused. He got down on the ground and jammed his tongue right in, smooth and unceremonious. “Ah, fuckin’ hell, nigga…” Rashid said, then chuckled at himself for calling a whiteboi nigga — because he only ever messed around on the downlow with black men, it was just an instinct. It seemed that Teddy was too focused on licking ass to notice, however. For a girl, a rimjob was a very big deal — Rashid loved getting rimjobs, but virtually no girls were willing to do it. When they did, they made him shower and shave his ass and shower again and get himself so clean and prepared that by the time he started, it wasn’t very sexy anymore. So he was surprised when Teddy plunged his tongue into Rashid’s broad ass. Teddy gripped those plump cheeks and lapped at Rashid’s hole, teasing it open and loose. He growled through the gas mask, and Rashid shuddered with anticipation. Was this going to hurt? He supposed it probably would, a bit, but he still wanted to try it. His body undulated as moist pleasure flowed from his ass and up his spine. If he wasn’t so eager to try something new, Rashid thought, he could have gotten this rimjob forever. His mind didn’t work while his prostate roared with pre-orgasmic pleasure, and his dick leaked precum into his fingers. Then at last Teddy returned to standing on his toes with his cock resting against Rashid’s asshole, as though giving him another opportunity to change his mind. Rashid seriously considered backing out, but when he glanced behind himself and saw that gas mask, he wanted nothing more than to be penetrated. When it happened, Rashid gasped. There was a faint, reedy twinge of pain, but even more than that, there was a sinking sensation of intense pleasure. He bucked and moaned as Teddy used lube he pulled out from behind the bar, slickening up his cock while pushing in deeper and deeper. Rashid clenched his ass and gritted his teeth as the pressure and orgasmic bliss grew greater and greater. Without saying a word, Teddy communicated to Rashid to roll over. He placed one delicate hand on Rashid’s back, and Rashid did as he was ordered. He laid on his back on the filthy floor, his great trunk-like thighs in the air. Teddy clutched his thick leg muscles with one hand, while his other caressed Rashid’s pecs and nipples. He felt the orgasm approaching a few minutes before he did — it was always a surprise, of sorts, when he finally came with a girl, but this time he felt it encroaching on him even before it did. He was jacking himself off, so when his balls pulled up in his sac, he grunted and stroked more furiously. “Ugh, nigga, yeah…” Rashid said, again forgetting he wasn’t with a black man. Cum sprayed both within Rashid’s ass and over his chest. Teddy grunted and groaned, the sound muffled by the gas mask over his face. Rashid roiled and stroked the cum on his cockshaft into a frothy mixture that dripped into his body hair and onto the floor behind his back. Great waves of pleasure rocketed Rashid’s body, buffeting him with feelings so intense he yelped like a girl. He was glad no one else was in the club right now to hear. His back contorted as he accepted every drop of Teddy’s creamy seed. Teddy pulled out and sighed. He took the gas mask off, and the fantasy ended as Rashid realized where he was and what he had just done. He scurried up off the filthy floor and wiped his ass off with a napkin. His ass ached a little, but it didn’t exactly hurt. “Uh, thanks,” Teddy said. “Sure.” Rashid tried not to sound humiliated, and in truth, he wasn’t. He enjoyed what had happened, even if he didn’t intend to do it again (unless you can bring that gas mask home with you, a part of his mind thought but immediately pushed down). He just felt a sort of residual humiliation at the thought of Teddy going home and bragging about how he got to top a sexy big black bouncer like Rashid. “You better not tell no one,” Rashid said. “I won’t.” “I’ll deny it. No one will believe you,” Rashid said. “I know,” he said. He put the gas mask down, then hesitated. He extended it towards Rashid and raised his eyebrows. “You wanna take this home with you? I’ll tell management it just disappeared.” Rashid paused. He scowled and grabbed the gas mask. “Okay, prettyboy, if I’m going to escort you to your car, we better go now. I ain’t sitting here with a sissy like you all night. I got chicks waiting for my meat at home.”
