MN Manmacker's mansploitation
The tradition was called the Power Shower — that was why Rob came to this camp. Every man in the camp was “required” to let a man jack him off in the hygiene tent. Depending on who you asked, it was either a rule every day, every week, every month or just ince in a lifetime. They all said men worked better once they had drained their nuts, and management didn’t want them swaggering into town on leave with swollen balls and Roman hands.
From The Workers
Hopper was short and squat, with a rather flat face. He was built like a prison rapist, Avery had thought during the ceremony, and he looked like he never wore a suit. His face had some acne-scarring, which was unfortunate.
All told, he was not ugly. A lot of women would say he was, or that he was at least off-putting and scary. But Avery didn’t mind a man with a little roughness around the edges, as long as he could still rock a suit. Hopper looked like he was one of those guys who went straight from acne-ridden-teenager to hulking-brutish-man without a charming-handsome-college-boy phase.
From The Groomsmen
Asher “Pud” Idelson. was tall and short-haired, with an angular nose and a lean, lanky body. He was built like a basketball player.
From The Groomsmen
Samuel Feinman was a college frat bro-turned-car salesman with a square jaw like a Roman nobleman, dark hair and a body that could barely be contained by his tuxedo.
From The Groomsmen
Rowan was cute in a skinny basement-dwelling nerd way, not unattractive, as he was a soccer player in good shape, you could just tell he spent most of his non-soccer time playing Minecraft or something dumb like that.
Shaw was handsome and sort of squarish, broad and ox-like, yet clean-cut like a dimpled politician. Shaw was tall and wide-shouldered, with deep dimples and charming green eyes. He was outgoing, with the smarmy charisma of a third-rate politician.
Normally Avery would try to slow down something like this. Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them. But that didn’t apply to Avery. So it was up to him to slow his men down or else they’d just dagger his throat like jackrabbits and be done in mere moments.
Today, however, Avery didn’t want to slow down. He sometimes enjoyed letting men really have free reign over his throat, letting them plow into him deeply and letting their balls slap against his chin. He adjusted and loosened his neck to allow every inch of Woody’s cock in there.
Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them.
Normally Avery would try to slow down something like this. Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them. But that didn’t apply to Avery. So it was up to him to slow his men down or else they’d just dagger his throat like jackrabbits and be done in mere moments.
Today, however, Avery didn’t want to slow down. He sometimes enjoyed letting men really have free reign over his throat, letting them plow into him deeply and letting their balls slap against his chin. He adjusted and loosened his neck to allow every inch of Woody’s cock in there.
He was an ex-Army officer with a tattoo of his unit on his belly. Woody was a barrel-chested man, his fuzzy fur tinged with gray, his head bald but shaved as well — shaved haphazardly, obviously without the use of a mirror, with slightly longer patches here and there around the sides of his scalp. A mustard stain on his boxers accentuated the bulge of his cock after he casually tucked it away again. He was furry and broad and strapping, and he smelled a little of sweat, like he had been working out recently, or had simply not showered.
Adrian’s a damn prettyboy. I bet he comes to the fundraiser tonight with gauze around his forehead, which he totally doesn’t need, he just wants to look like an injured-fucking-warrior, and he wants to get all the fat chicks to come hug him, he is so like that — you know he had a fake sling on once at a party — well, it was a real sling, but he didn’t need it. Like if one of the Hardy Boys became a lifeguard and got injected with self-righteousness. I hate that dickhead,” Josh said. “I could have a six-pack too if I spent all my time doing sit-ups and shit. Like an asshole. nd those abs! He lifts his shirt so often, it’s crazy. Like in the 7-11 when we’re just getting hot dogs or something, and he’s like ‘I don’t put processed chemicals in my body’s so he just gets a salad with a dressing that’s like all processed chemicals, and he shows his six-pack to the Pakistani lady who’s like seventy and obviously doesn’t give a shit, just wants to know why some goddamn Disney prince is in her store baring his goddamn belly at her.”
From The Firefighter
