Desmond cuts hair in his barbershop, and he often gives his studlier customers a “happy ending”… But when one encounter with a wannabe rapper leads to a hit song name-checking Desmond’s oral skills, this downlow arrangement becomes more out in the open than Desmond expected! That leads to a series of man-on-man encounters with some of the toughest and handsomest alpha male thugs, ex-cons, jocks and even strippers around!
Avery is cooking for the firefighters at the local station when an emergency leaves him with the hunkiest of them all! Can Avery service his every need?
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The sauce bubbled redly and hot, little circles of tasty goodness growing and popping and spraying droplets over the pristine surface. It was a little pale and watery still, Avery thought, but it would soon thicken up. He had never made such a huge amount of spaghetti sauce. All four burners were on, with four pots — two big ones, two littler ones on the smaller burners — bubbling away. The air smelled rank with tomatoes, onions and garlic. It had smelled good at first, but now Avery’s nose was inured to the scent, and he didn’t pay attention to it until he left the kitchen and came back only to be sent reeling with the potency of the scent. The firefighters down below must have smelled it too, because they kept coming upstairs to see if it was ready for tasting. But Avery wasn’t cooking it for them to eat. It was a fundraiser for Independence Day, and in lieu of donating money — because he had none — Avery was making the sauce. It wasn’t jarred either, he made it from scratch. The tomatoes were canned, but other than that, it was all fresh and homemade. Hopefully many people would come and buy a ticket to the raffle in exchange for a plate of spaghetti. The baritone voices of the firefighters emanated up the stairs, and Avery waited for them to appear so he could tell them he wasn’t giving them any spaghetti sauce until the fundraiser, and then they’d have to buy a ticket like anyone else. “She looked like a cartoon hippo, like a sexy hippo in a Bugs Bunny cartoon-“ “Okay, man, shut up, she wasn’t that fat-“ Someone was passing by in the hall, two people with deep, cavernous voices and dimpled smiles you could hear in their charming tones. The laughter was too loud for Avery to make out what was said for a few moments, as firemen filled up the hall outside the kitchen. “I swear, man… hey, why does she have such big teeth? Did she eat Little Red Riding Hood?” “She don’t have big teeth! She sucks dick like you wouldn’t believe!” Those were the guys from the photo shoot. Avery had only really gotten interested in this July 4 fundraiser because of them. He heard the local firefighters were doing a calendar — a shirtless, maybe even nude, calendar — and Avery really wanted to be the photographer. As it turned out, they hired a real, professional photographer. Avery was annoyed. He got stuck somehow making sauce for a completely different fundraiser. He didn’t mind, but, he thought, they could at least give him a shirtless fireman as a helper. The whole point of getting involved was to see the handsome firefighters. But they hired a professional, and Avery got stuck cooking spaghetti sauce by himself. “Damn, that smells good!” The two firefighters from the hall looked into the kitchen. “Oh, shit, man, can I have a bowl now?” “Yeah, lemme take a taste-“ “No,” Avery said flatly. “I haven’t made the pasta yet anyway. It’s just sauce.” He turned around and blushed at the sight of those two firefighters. They were both nearly naked, one wearing brand-new boxers — you could still see those fold-lines on them from when they were in the package — and the other wore a skimpy bathing suit, his blond hair slicked back with water. They had been working out, apparently, in the gym downstairs, and they were going to take a shower and change when they smelled the spaghetti sauce. They were both handsome, with physiques like Olympians. They were Adrian and Chuck, Mr. January and Mr. February. The bulge in Adrian’s underwear made Avery imagine throwing himself in Adrian’s arms — oh god, I could start a fire or something, make him rescue me, oh god, oh god — but he tried to remain professional. “Man, I could eat a bowl of sauce. I’m so hungry, I could eat anything right now,” said the blond, Adrian. That made Chuck guffaw. “Ha ha ha! Holy shit, man, I know, you demonstrated that when you made out with that ugly chick-“ “Shut the fuck up, Chuck!” “Did you eat her pussy? Was it nasty? I bet it tasted like old orange juice, the really cheap kind we got in elementary school-“ “Shut the fuck up, Chuck! She — she’s not a girlfriend, okay? She just… She loves sucking dick, she begged me to suck my dick, and yeah, sometimes she wants a little oral too, and I don’t mind-“ “Ha ha ha ha ha!” “Shut the fuck up, Chuck! At least I can get a girl! You got no game-!” They both laughed over each other’s simultaneous accusations, drowning out each other’s voices as they walked away. They ignored Avery, spaghetti sauce forgotten, and headed back down the stairs. He sighed and returned to his sauce. He heard more laughter in the locker room down below. Adrian and Chuck were changing their clothes, putting on civilian gear. They came out a few minutes later, still talking about the merits of Adrian’s less than desirable female companion, their voices carrying through the ventilation system. “Man, a mouth is a mouth, you don’t even know. I’ll let anyone suck me off, I don’t care, I love blowjobs. I don’t gotta look at her face to fuck her mouth. If some chick wants to…” “Anyone?” “Any adult and consenting woman, that’s what I meant, man, don’t be a dick-” Adrian again stopped at the door to the kitchen. He was ravenous. He wanted his six-pack to be popping today for the photoshoot, so he hadn’t eaten all day. His belly rumbled. “Oh, shit, man I want spaghetti. Hey, we don’t have to pay at the fundraiser tonight, do we?” “Of course we do, it’s a fundraiser. That’s the whole point.” “But it’s our fire station!” Adrian threw his hands in the air. Avery looked down the window from the second floor kitchen to the ground floor, where the firetrucks were parked and where Adrian and Chuck emerged from the locker room freshly dressed. They looked good in a tee shirt and shorts too, Avery thought. His eyes roamed up and down both men’s bodies. He decided this was good a time as any to make his offer, so Avery made his way downstairs. “Hey, uh, Adrian, I’ll pay for your bowl of spaghetti at the fundraiser tonight,” Avery said. “If you let me jack you off.” A long awkward pause filled the air. “Just… since you said you would take any mouth… I can assure you I do it good, all the way down, to the root, swear to God-“ “I meant from a girl, man.” Adrian said, blushing as he stalked out. “Woman!” Chuck followed and laughed with him. They both headed out the front door. Avery blushed too. That had been a resounding failure. He wondered if he was going to be asked to leave the station. If Adrian complained, the fire chief might say Avery wasn’t allowed to volunteer here anymore. Oh well… He sighed and returned to the upstairs kitchen and his pots of spaghetti sauce. As a great admirer of male physiques, Avery propositioned a lot of men, and many of them turned him down. Can’t win ’em all. Maybe there would be another fireman later, at the fundraiser tonight. They would be hot in the crowded community center, they’d be tired and too loaded with carbs to hit on chicks. Adrian was obviously unwilling, but there were eleven more firemen on that calendar. Moments later, the siren erupted, followed by an incomprehensible voice announcing something through the loudspeaker — the 911 dispatcher — and then a torrent of activity. More sirens turned on. The stovetop turned off, but came back on a few seconds later when the loudest of the sirens had fallen silent. Avery was so shocked he dropped his wooden spoon into the sauce, and he had to use tongs to get it out. He heard masculine shouting, grunts and heavy footfalls as the firemen scrambled to get ready. They threw their gear on, barking commands and encouragement, and somebody started the engine of one of the firetrucks. In just two minutes, the fire truck was pulling out of the station. Avery went to the window to watch. It was exciting, and it felt good even if Avery didn’t really have anything to do with it — he felt like a part of the team, even if he wasn’t. Then, it was all over. The firefighters were gone. Avery was alone. The fire station was sepulchral, liminal like an abandoned home. A half-eaten cinnamon bun from the vending machine lay on a coffee table. One tennis shoe was scattered near the door, its partner missing. There was an air of activity, but it was a hollow aura, an echoic silence, a dwindling remnant of activity that had thrummed and hummed just moments ago. Now it was nothing. It was almost spooky. Alone again, Avery cleaned up a little the best he could. He put the dirty dishes in the sink in the kitchen — he had already filled up the dishwasher and turned it on, so he couldn’t wash anything just yet. He returned to his bubbling sauce. He felt more lonely now that the station was empty, even though he had been alone in the kitchen for most of this afternoon. Then the truck came back. Avery breathed a sigh of relief. It had occurred to him that it was possible there had been a real serious fire; maybe the firemen were all dead; maybe the news would be here any minute to collect on-air nostalgia about all those dead heroes. But it was just the firetruck. Avery watched as one young man — Josh Taney — came out of the driver’s seat. No one else. Josh wore his fireman’s suit, but the helmet was off, and he carried the jacket, so he just wore a wifebeater over his broad chest, the fabric matted to his skin with sweat. It had been white at one point, but now it was dingy gray. He wore this wifebeater beneath his fireman’s suit all the time, and rarely washed it, so it had become so sweaty and nasty it was wet all the time. He didn’t care. It kept him cool, and nobody expected him to be clean. There was soot smudged over his face, and his hair was singed. A trickle of blood ran down from his eyebrow. “Hey,” he said. Josh had heard that the spaghetti-cooker had propositioned Adrian to jack him off, which Josh thought was hilarious — Josh didn’t even know people did that outside of prison. Adrian was a prettyboy, obviously he would never do it, Josh though, Adrian was squeamish, he was only a fireman because he thought it would help him pick up chicks. Not Taney. Joshua Taney was from a long line of firemen. He was a fireman because it was in his blood. And he didn’t need to be on some stupid calendar. “What happened?!” Avery’s eyes opened wide. Was Taney the only survivor? What had happened out there? Josh’s eyes had a certain deadish, thousand-yard stare. “Oh it’s fine. No biggie. The rest of them had to go get checked out cuz a beam of wood hit them on the head. Concussion,” he said. “It’s fine.” He shrugged. “Okay.” Avery’s heart still raced. That sounded serious — a blow to the head leading to a concussion! “I was just talking to Adrian a few minutes before they left. I hope he’s okay.” “He’s fine. They just made him go to the hospital.” Josh sneered. “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-“ “He is kind of a prettyboy.” “I know, right? 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.” “Yeah, what a dick-” Avery realized that Josh wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. “I didn’t even wanna be in the damn calendar. It’s just so old ladies can gawk and shit, man, fuck that,” Josh said. He stalked past Avery towards the locker room. He acted like he expected Avery to follow, so he did. “You didn’t get in the calendar?” “I know tons of girls who say six-packs aren’t even hot. No one cares about that shit. If you spent your time working on your firefighting skills, you wouldn’t even have time to do sit-ups all day. So anyone with a six-pack must be less competent at firefighting. Dick.” “Uh-huh.” Josh angrily dropped his thick firefighter pants, revealing a big bulge beneath the boxers he wore. He scratched his dick and sighed — that felt good and made him relax some — his balls got so sweaty in that warm fireman suit, it was nice to let them hang free. He sighed and leaned back against the lockers, legs spread. It occurred to Josh Taney only then that the man in the locker room with him was checking him out. Now his legs were spread, the bulge in his too-small boxers so big it looked like he had aimed it at Avery. “He talks a big game too,” Avery said. “But Adrian’s all talk, no action. He was bragging about how he loves to get sucked off by any woman, no matter how ugly, he doesn’t care. I offered to do it and he said no. What a douche! He was just talking shit. He wants to talk about his dick as much as possible because he likes the idea of people thinking about it.” “Yeah! And 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.” Josh blushed because he realized he was babbling and sounded defensive. “Anyway, whatever, I didn’t want to be on the calendar.” “They wouldn’t let you on?” “They said my ‘body-type isn’t popular right now’, and they said I had to shave my chest!” Josh stood up and showed off his bare body. He didn’t have a six-pack, that was true, and he had a hairy chest. But he wasn’t at all fat, he simply didn’t have a six-pack. He’d probably only need to lose like five pounds and do a mountain of sit-ups to get a six-pack, Avery thought, but he didn’t say that out loud. It was obvious Josh wasn’t looking for that. Neither was Avery. He enjoyed a six-packed prettyboy from time to time, but Josh’s powerful body and meaty frame was better. He didn’t mind the scruffy beard or the shaggy black hair — which was unkempt and nearly a mullet — and he loved Josh’s face, which featured a jaw that was almost too square, giving him a jutting, cavemany look. Avery thought it was hot, but Josh was not exactly “calendar material”, at least not without a haircut, a trim of his beard, a shave of his chest, a few days of cutting to get a six-pack and some makeup or photoshop to make him look less like a rampaging barbarian. Luckily for Avery, ‘rampaging barbarian’ was perhaps his favorite kind of man. “You want me to jack you off?” Avery asked. Josh sucked in his breath. He’d never let a man touch him before. His father had drunkenly admitted once there used to be a guy who hung around the fire station to get guys off — he said it was normal and helped avoid being distracted during fire calls. But Josh had thought that was just stupid rumor-mongering. He never believed it. Now it was happening! Josh watched his dick twitch beneath Avery’s grasp. Josh was surprised it had happened so easily — girls always wanted to mess around, go on dates, take endless showers to prepare. Josh was covered in sweat and soot and a little blood from where he had gotten dinged by a piece of broken glass that snuck in beneath his helmet. No girl would touch him like that. That big caveman-like jaw rutted as he chewed on his lower lip. His dick was hard even before Avery pulled it out through his boxers, planted his lips on it and swallowed the entire shaft, all in one smooth motion unlike anything Josh had ever experienced. Now that it was happening, Josh couldn’t believe how good it felt — it was almost frightening, he thought, like Avery was going to suck his cock right off. He gasped and leaned against the wall, unsure if he should touch Avery’s head — he felt like he wanted to, but didn’t know if that would be rude. His hands fluttered around, and his muscles rippled as Josh let out a long, chest-rattling groan. “Hmmm…” Avery murmured around the cock in his throat, and the vibration of the noise made Josh moan out loud. He couldn’t deny how good it felt, as Josh closed his eyes and felt a wave of pleasure crash over his body. Josh’s dick pulsated, and he sucked in his breath. He clutched his hands behind his back like a soldier standing at parade-rest. He alternated between scrunching his eyes shut tightly and opening them wide. “Goddamn, man…” Josh bit his lip. “I needed this…” He felt like he might pass out. Pangs of bliss pounded like heartbeats up his body, making his tan face turn as pale as his bare ass — which was porcelain and unmarked except by the coarse black hairs in his crack. “Hmmm… You taste better than any prettyboy,” Avery said, his voice a low murmur. He slurped up the salty precum that ran down Josh’s shaft. “They should have put you on the calendar.” Josh couldn’t speak coherently. He just kept babbling, “Uh-huh, yeah, ah… Uh-huh, okay… Uh-huh, yep, uh-huh-” until he couldn’t take it anymore. “You wanna get in my ass?” Avery asked. In seconds, he had his pants down, his ass bare and aimed up towards Josh’s cock. Josh never thought he would plow a man in the ass. He’d only ever done one woman in the ass, and that hadn’t even lasted long. But Avery’s ass was tight and it beckoned beautifully. Josh was still pondering the possibility, stroking his dick and watching the copious precum leak out of his piss-slit, when his body moved of its own accord. Before he could think twice, his dick was in the crack of Avery’s ass. He sighed and moaned. He wanted this so bad. He needed to hurry up though — the other firemen would be back from the hospital soon. Anyone who didn’t show signs of memory loss, sleepiness or confusion after one hour would be discharged — Josh had been through this before. So he needed to hurry. Luckily though, his awkwardness made little difference to Avery. He had no sooner felt his dicktip slide into Avery’s tight hole before it was sucked in the rest of the way. Avery’s well-muscled ass pulled it in, and Josh let out a long, low, throat-warbling moan. He found himself leaning over. “Oh god…” He hadn’t really meant to, but now he was on top of Avery, that rancid wifebeater rubbing across Avery’s back. His dick jabbed deep into his ass, and then he pulled out, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. “Goddamn,” Avery said with a wrenching sigh. His prostate came alive as Josh began to plow back and forth, ramming his dick in and out. It felt so good neither of them noticed Josh’s radio crackle into life — the 911 dispatcher asking if any police officers were available to drive a couple firemen from the hospital back to the station. Josh focused on plowing back and forth instead, on making a big frothy mess of his precum — or was it his actual cum? He couldn’t even tell. It wasn’t like it was with a woman. He couldn’t tell when his orgasm began, and Avery seemed willing to get cornholed as hard as Josh possibly could. No girl would ever take Josh’s entire dick in her ass — he hadn’t even thought that was possible. So now that he could, he pounded away with all his might. He jammed his dick in and sighed, and he even found himself nibbling on Avery’s earlobe as though he was a girl Josh needed to seduce. Josh pulled away and blushed, biting his lip as the last of his orgasm finally overwhelmed him. “Goddamn, man… I’m cummin’, shit…” Josh sighed and leaned back once more, so he could watch his dick slam into Avery one last time. His whole body throbbed and jets of cum sprayed into Avery’s tight ass. Avery muttered as he shot his own load on the floor and into his hand. He sighed and moaned, pawing at the ground. It was the best sensation of his life, he thought, and the best part about it was that it was unplanned — he had thought Adrian’s tight body was his perfect chance, not this rough-edged stallion with a perfectly chunky ass. But Josh cornholed better than Adrian ever would, Avery was positive of that. He cornholed with abandon, and he kept cornholing even as he orgasmed, turning his cum into a big frothy mess that spilled out on the locker room floor. Josh nearly gagged at the sight of it, but he laughed and moaned at the same time, the constellation of sensations in his body so intense he couldn’t help but squirm. His cock flopped moistly out of Avery’s ass. Josh’s head reeled. He couldn’t decide if he was embarrassed or not. Should he keep this a secret? Or tell Adrian he had done what Adrian was too squeamish to do? “Goddamn…” Avery said. He turned around and kissed Josh on the hairy chest, jacking on each nipple. Josh was sensitive enough that that continued his orgasm for what felt like an eternity. At last, he was done. Josh lay limply against the wall of the fire station, which now stank of cum. Ten-four, dispatch, I got them. I’m at the hospital now, we’re on our way out. They’ll be back at the station in service in five minutes. Less than that if I put my sirens on. The cop on the radio snickered like that was an inside joke — they weren’t allowed to put sirens unless absolutely necessary. “Oh shit!” Josh leapt to his toes as he tried to think of what to do first. The locker room smelled like sweat and cum, and that was the first place those guys would go when they got back. Josh’s dick was rapidly limpening, but it was still covered in ass-goo and cum. Avery was sweaty and still focused on licking Josh’s chest clean of sweat, which Josh ignored. “We gotta clean up!” Avery rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Fine.” He got some paper towels and sighed. The cleanup wasn’t the best part. He wondered if any other firemen would be down to mess around. Josh erupted in activity, as he cleaned his dick off and sprayed air freshener around the locker room. Maybe during the fundraiser itself, Avery thought. He could hang out in the kitchen and send word that any fireman who needed a little… attention could come to the kitchen and get his needs taken care of.
Avery goes with a friend to an awkward family event, only to find himself enchanted by her father, brother and oldest nephew! They’re a trio of hunky studs who just might let Avery swing on their alpha honky meat… as long as the other two don’t know about it!
Avery lay awoke most of the night. He was dreading tomorrow — it was Thanksgiving, and he planned on spending it with his friend Lenore. That would have been fine on its own. But her family would be there too, and that promised to be awkward. The prospect of meeting who-even-knows how many new people made the whole thing seem like an obligation. It seemed like no big deal when she asked last month if he wanted to come. Her family might be fun, he thought. And now he had to spend all day with them. Lenore had not had a relationship with her family until earlier this year, due to an acrimonious divorce that led to her brother siding with her father and Lenore siding with her mother. That was why she had practically begged Avery to come along: Lenore didn’t want to be alone. So he tried not to sulk as he trundled off to her car early in the morning on Thanksgiving. He was sleepy, and he already he was failing to come up with any smalltalk. He remained quiet the entire way to Citrus Heights, California. Lenore was quiet too, either nervous or just listening to the jazz on the radio. He was half-asleep anyway. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, however, Avery was already starting to brighten up. Lenore’s mother had passed away a few years ago, and her father, Woody, had reverted to his bachelor ways after his divorce. He was an ex-Army officer with a tattoo of his unit on his belly — a fact that Avery saw when Lenore opened the door and Woody stood there in his boxers, hand at his crotch, scratching his balls. His arms flexed and his pecs rippled as though scratching his nutsack through his raggedy-ass boxer shorts took all of his muscles. That was how the Thanksgiving began: Lenore screeching, and Woody blearily-eyed glaring at his daughter as his dick flopped out through the fly of his boxers. It was meaty and thick, and it flopped like an uncooked sausage. 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. “Dad! Ohmigod, you are humiliating me! Ohmigod! Is this what you do? You hang out in your underpants?! Was Mom the only reason you ever put on pants?” “Mornin’, sweetcake.” “Go put some clothes on, Dad!” He just rolled his eyes and hugged her, much to her chagrin. He shook Avery’s hand. Woody had thick fingers and a muscular grip. He squeezed Avery confidently. He winked too. Avery blushed, and he looked Woody’s chest up and down. 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. Or both. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male aroma. “Dad, I can tell you cleaned up, but you should have done the baseboards-“ “Sweetcake,” Woody grunted. “It looks fine-“ “I know, but I’ll just get a sponge-“ Again, Woody rolled his eyes. His ass swayed in his boxers as he followed after his daughter, arguing. Avery stayed there at the door to watching his shoulder muscles flex. Again, Avery got the impression he shook his ass for Avery’s benefit. His cheeks were full to bursting out of those paper-thin boxer shorts. The mustard stain looked to have harmed the already cheap fabric, that may be why his cock slipped out. Where do alphas even find that kind of boxer shorts? So thin you can almost see through them like wet tissue paper. Avery’s dick twitched. He wondered if Lenore had told him she was bringing a friend. He hadn’t seemed surprised to see a stranger. The rest of the family would be coming soon, and the house was not ready. Avery chuckled under his breath at the sound of Lenore squealing at the realization that her father had still not put on any pants. “Of course you have to baste it, Dad! Nigella Lawson said it!” She came back into the living room. Avery busied himself by putting the cords, remote controls and DVDs out by the TV all into a stack. That was productive and helpful, he thought; he only wished Lenore had seen him do it. She stormed past with a sponge and an all-purpose cleaner. “Dad! Go put pants on! You have to wear pants to Thanksgiving!” “You’re as bad as your mother,” he said with a grin. His eyes glanced to Avery, then up the stairs. He scratched his chest casually, but his hand lingered over his nipple, and his pecs bounced. “Did you need some help picking out an outfit, Mister Myrtle?” Avery asked. He was now certain Woody was hot to trot. She was awfully insistent I come up here. I bet she knew her dad wanted a piece of male tail on the side. Oh she’s a sly hag… Avery stared daggers at her as he followed Woody up the stairs. He didn’t mind her bringing him as a sort of a toy to keep her father satisfied, but Avery wished she had told him. What if Woody had been fat? That would have been awkward. “Call me Woody, hoss. Yeah, uh, what color ain’t ya supposed to wear after Labor Day?” Woody asked as they ascended the stairs. “That’s white, darling,” Avery said. “Nobody wears white to Thanksgiving.” They were up the stairs now. He pulled down Woody’s white boxers to reveal a chunky hairy ass, all muscle and meat and fur. Woody chuckled and stepped out of his boxers without missing a beat. Avery kissed one of his cheeks there in the hall at the top of the stairs. Myrtle fussed over some dumb girlish shit downstairs. “Damn, boy, did she bring you just to keep me from getting too ornery?” “A hostess should provide someone to service macho military guys at family gatherings. That’s in Emily Post. Your daughter is a thoughtful girl,” Avery said. “You get jacked off by guys a lot?” He grunted. “You a take-a-shower-before kinda fruitcake or a take-a-shower-after fruitcake?” “After.” Avery blushed and laughed. Obviously, he thought, that was a yes: guys who weren’t jacked off by other dudes often would never have known there were those who preferred both showered and unshowered men. “Gotcha.” He went into the bedroom and flopped onto his bed, which was covered in dirty socks and tee shirts with sweat stains. The bed was unmade, but Avery thought no one actually slept here — Woody probably slept on the couch downstairs most nights. He looked like the drift-off-to-sleep-drunk-on-the-couch kind of divorced man. He flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “Man, in boot camp there was this fellah right off base who’d jack off any soldier who needed it. They just be lining up outside his condo, twirlin’ they dicks in they hands.” “I bet.” “But I ain’t mess around with him. The female tail was plentiful back then. It wasn’t till I got assigned to this base in central Alaska, then there wasn’t no females around except this one swishy Indian fella with lips like silk — what are you waiting for?” He snorted and chuckled. “My daughter is gonna come in anytime, demanding I alphabetize my potatoes or something, calling my spice rack racist. So let’s get this done, we might not have much time.” He slapped Avery in the cheek with his dick as Avery leaned over the bed to put it in his mouth. He groaned and scooted closer to the edge. The doorbell rang. Avery heard more family coming in, and Lenore talking a mile a minute, seemingly apologizing for the state of the house. He slathered Woody’s dick with spit, as it firmed up in his mouth. “You wanna hit it deep, baby?” Avery asked when it was hard. He rubbed Woody’s cock against his cheeks and chased it with his tongue, teasing Woody by blowing on the wetness on his shaft and making Woody’s whole body shake. “Ah, man… if a woman asked me that, swear to God, I’d propose to her on the spot,” Woody said with a sigh. He closed his eyes, gripped Avery by the ear and slammed his dick all the way down. “Ah, shit…” Woody moaned. 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. “Goddamn, man, hell yeah…” Woody’s throaty voice rang out in Avery’s ear. He held on tight to Avery’s head, but he didn’t sodomize his throat in an aggressive or mean way like some guys. He ground his cock deeply, shaking it, moving his hips and ass in little circles like he needed to make love to every inch of Avery’s spasming throat. When loud gurgling and sputtering sounds came from Avery’s mouth, Woody warmly shushed him. “Sssssh, it’s okay, boy, I’m cummin’ now, just keep it open for a minute more. You gonna get a good taste in just a sec…” His voice degenerated into a baritone rumble as an orgasm rippled over his hairy chest. He held his breath, keeping Avery’s head impaled on his cock, which spasmed and pulsated in Avery’s neck. Avery’s tongue throbbed against the veiny underside of his dick, where Avery could feel the juices flowing from his balls. Cum flowed down Avery’s throat. It was creamy and warm and delicious, and he guzzled every drop. He maintained eye contact with Woody the whole time too. Most straight guys closed their eyes when they came in a man’s mouth, so Avery enjoyed Woody’s shocked expression as he orgasmed. “Shit, boy, goddamn! If I had you back in boot camp, I’d have never bothered hooking up wit’ females,” Woody said with a laugh, shaking his ass beneath Avery’s grasp to make the last few drops of cum slide down Avery’s gullet. Then, when it was over, Avery sat back and grinned, wiping his face off. Woody’s jaw hung open and he licked his lips. He chuckled, a throaty laugh like a moist mummy, and he wiped his hand through his chest hair. Avery smacked his lips and played with the sensitive, limpening shaft of Woody’s cock. “Hmmm… Thanks,” Avery said. “I should be thankin’ you.” He had a low throaty chuckle. “Thank you.” He wiped his dick off with some paper towels. “My son and grandsons are downstairs. And daughter-in-law.” He sighed like he wished his daughter-in-law wasn’t here. “Make sure you don’t let on what we done up here. The younger generations don’t get it.” Avery mimed zipping his lips shut, then Woody took a quick shower while Avery chose an outfit for him. His cleanest pants were camo, but Avery found a tolerable pair of khakis. They were dirt-colored anyway, so the dirt stains didn’t show. Avery heard the family greeting each other downstairs. A child was in the mix. That was good, he thought, an excellent distraction. Sure enough, the child — Jason — Woody’s youngest grandson — occupied everyone’s attention. Avery went downstairs met Lenore’s brother Mack, his wife Vanessa and their adult sons Rowan and Shaw, along with, of course, the young one, Mack’s and Vanessa’s five year old Jason. They all watched Jason play with trucks and lose counting games on his mother’s iPad. Soon, however, conversation became stilted. Everyone watched Jason play like he was a panda at the zoo. Avery tried to make a few jokes, but no one seemed interested in laughing. The dull as drainage Thanksgiving was only ended with a fight breaking out among the brothers. “You shouldn’t let Jason use the iPad so much,” said Rowan, instantly starting off an argument between him and his brother Shaw. They were both late teens, Rowan just eighteen but Shaw nearly twenty. They both hovered over their nephew, who ignored them, deeply hypnotized by the iPad in his grubby little mitts. “Just let him play, you loser-“ “It’s bad for him.” “You’re such a pretentious twat-” Shaw smacked Rowan, who smacked him back. As Woody came down the stairs in a button-down shirt and dirt-colored khakis, he said, “Hey, you boys knock it off-!” “Get outta my way!” “He’s been beggin’ for this for years, I’m gonna kick the moron right out of his brain!” Avery wanted nothing to do with what was soon to be a fistfight. He did like the men. Woody, his son Mack and Mack’s adult sons Shaw and Rowan. He appreciated the male form, and all four of the Myrtle men had admirable physiques in their own ways. Shaw was handsome and sort of squarish, broad and ox-like, yet clean-cut and dimpled like a new golf ball. 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. “You piece of shit! Car thief!” “Oh, now you’re bringing up the Toyota again?! Just get over it, Rowan!” 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. After the fight with his brother, he went into the kitchen, where Lenore ignored the fighting and focused on basting the turkey in the oven. When she stood up to explain why her father’s favorite spice blend’s brand and mascot were racist, Shaw belched. “Oh my god, that was so disgusting, get out of here!” She scowled at her nephew, and he instantly returned to the living room, where Rowan was still fuming about the car Shaw had “stolen”. As Avery settled in with a glass of cider (sadly, it was soft cider), Rowan and Shaw resumed their earlier fight, which was itself a resumption of a previous fight. Little Jason watched and aimlessly banged his trucks together. “Fight back, pussy!” Shaw and Rowan bumped chests. “Lay off!” Rowan pushed him to the ground. “C’mon, fight me! You know you can’t!” They both wrestled, knocking over the coat-rack by the door and a lamp. Avery backed up out of the way, putting him close to Mack, who picked up Jason and put him on the stairs so he wouldn’t be trampled. Avery felt Mack’s body heat. Mack ignored him, dourly watching his sons fight. He had ceased trying to stop it. Avery caught Mack’s eye and beckoned as though he needed help with something private. He sort of swept Mack up to nudge him to come along. Mack went with him, and the roar of the battle in the living room went quiet when they went into the garage and shut the door. “Thanks so for much for your help,” Avery said. He had manipulated Mack with body language and confidence, so Mack realized as he walked into the garage that he didn’t know why he was here. “What did you need help with?” “Oh… nothing too difficult,” Avery said. He grinned. “I have a feeling you’d like to get a nut off. Is that right?” “Shit, hoss, always!” Mack said with a cackle and a whoop. “So how about I bend over and you plow my ass hard?” Get off me, Shaw! I’ll kick your ass! “Oh, damn… Oh…” Mack’s cocky demeanor vanished. He was momentarily nervous. Then he took a deep breath. “Hot damn. Uh, okay…” He paused. “You can’t tell my dad. He’d kick my ass.” Avery rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Mack took a deep breath. “Man… It’s no big deal, just so you know. You’re not my first.” He blushed until his cheeks were the color of cherries. “I, uh… Back in college, my frat had this scavenger hunt thing I had to do, and uh…” He chuckled and blushed. “I was just… It was on my list, and I had to do it, that’s all-“ “You don’t need to explain,” Avery said. He smiled. “Come on, let’s go. If you wanna stick it in me, you gotta stop talking.” Pulling his own pants down, Mack sat sideways on a riding lawnmower, so he faced Avery. A big dick popped out of his underwear. Avery went for it with his mouth. He planted his lips right on it, and there was a twitch immediately as it flickered into life. A gasp escaped from Mack’s lips, though he tried to look confident. He was also excessively concerned about noise — his sons still fought in the house, which was much too loud for anyone to hear Mack’s heavy breathing from the garage. But he jumped every time there was a noise, like when Shaw and Rowan knocked stuff over in the living room. “Hey! That’s enough!” Woody was getting involved now, and Mack pursed his lips shut tightly because the house was suddenly silent. He threw his head back and let out a soundless moan, his open mouth hanging agape, tongue lolling out. Soon Mack’s dick was hard, and it throbbed as it leaked precum down Avery’s throat. Avery licked the shaft, tracing the trail of the vein that ran up and down the underside of it. Mack let out a long, low-rumbling moan. “You’re gonna stick it in me too, right?” Avery said because it looked like Mack was planning on cumming like this. Mack chortled. He removed his baseball cap, ran his fingers through his hair, then put it back. “I dunno, hoss…” Avery said. “That’s what you agreed to. You wanna back out?” “No! I just… Just keep your voice down,” Mack said, even though he was the one who was loud. Avery just kissed Mack on the cocktip, slathering spit on his shaft. “Are you ready ?” Before he gave Mack a chance to answer, Avery got down on his knees and sucked the sweat off Mack’s balls. Mack gasped and writhed. His muscles all flexed, and he wanted to let out a shout but couldn’t because the family in the living room was being quiet now. They’d hear. His balls were heavy and full, and Avery loved savoring them. Ballsacs always had such an intense flavor that brought tears to Avery’s eyes as he gurgled and choked on them. That was loud, but only in the immediate vicinity of the lawnmower on which Mack still sat. Mack remained paranoid though, alternating between shushing Avery and loudly gasping nervously. “I can’t believe this is gonna be my first time putting it up the butt,” Mack said, his voice quavering as Avery pulled off his balls and stroked his dick with one hand. Avery turned around and aimed his ass for Mack’s crotch. Mack sighed. “Girls always say it’s gross. Chicks are all cockteases.” “Yeah. You should totally stick your dick in dudes instead,” Avery said as he lowered himself onto Mack’s cock. “You’re not really an unbiased advisor…” Mack said with a chuckle. He leaned way back, like he didn’t want to touch Avery’s body any more than necessary. That meant it was up to Avery to do most of the actual movement here. He backed his ass up, grimacing at the intense pressure that ate up his focus. He grunted and gritted his teeth. This was especially awkward because Mack just sat there on the lawnmower, watching as Avery struggled to keep his ass in position — he had to kneel over and raise his ass as high as he could make it go. Avery was just about to tell Mack they needed to try a different position when his ass finally loosened. A loud sigh emanated from deep in Avery’s precum-lubed throat. Mack sighed too, in shock as a surge of pleasure shot up his spine. “Goddamn, man… Remember my dad can’t find out,” Mack said, his voice wavering like he was on the verge of tears. He whispered even though the TV was on in the living room, drowning out all other potential sounds. There was no way anyone in there could hear unless they stood with their ears literally on the garage door. Mack’s fingers gingerly gripped Avery’s hips. Mack’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth was agape once more. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. He had hoped it might feel like a woman’s pussy, but he was shocked that it felt so much better. Mack blushed and writhed beneath Avery’s body. He was so impassioned and aroused that he grabbed Avery’s hips, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Avery any more than absolutely necessary. He held onto Avery’s body and guided him up and down, even as his mind told him not to, that this was too weird. Mack sighed. If his buddies ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it. And if his father found out? As Mack reached a potent orgasm, he was filled with terror that his dad would come in right now and see him — he’d tease Mack about it forever. But Mack couldn’t help but respond as an incredible orgasm flowed through him. He’d never felt like this. He pounded on his muscular chest and threw his head back with such force that his backwards baseball cap fell off, landing on the lawnmower beneath him. “Shit, man!” Mack shouted, finally loud enough that people in the living room could have heard it. Cum flowed into Avery’s ass, great gobs of it that filled him up. Since he was on top, it ran out and down his leg onto the floor of the garage. Avery shot his own wad, but most of it ended up in the body of the lawnmower. Their orgasm continued for what felt like forever. Mack had never experienced anything like this, but it was old hat for Avery. He let out a long, cringing moan, then leaned back and rubbed his face against Mack’s well-muscled chest. “Hmmm…” Avery murmured into Mack’s muscular arms, which wrapped around him as both men finished their climaxes and cum seeped out of Avery’s ass onto the floor of the garage and the side of the lawnmower. They both fell back, limp and exhausted. Avery stretched his weary legs. He didn’t want to leave just yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before their absences were noted. Avery pulled his pants up and kissed Mack on the neck. “Thanks,” Mack said. Avery gave him the two hundred dollars he had promised. “You’re welcome,” Avery said. Avery went back out to the living room — leaving Mack to breathe heavily and recover in the garage — where he watched little Jason be cute for awhile with the other males. But they were mostly watching a football game, not the kid. Avery quickly lost interest because he hated football. The only part of football he considered exciting was the men — sometimes you could catch a glimpse of their jockstraps. But he wasn’t having much luck with that today, and the menfolk were boring, silently watching the game. The fight between Rowan and Shaw seemed to have ended. They now sat next to each other quietly, meanmugging. So Avery went into the kitchen to see how Thanksgiving dinner was progressing. It was, except for the turkey being undercooked and then accidentally dropped on the floor, done. The women — Lenore and Vanessa, Mack’s wife (and therefore Lenore’s sister-in-law) — had knocked it off the table when a fight began mere seconds before Avery walked in the door. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, watching the fight and struggling to process what he saw. He’d known Lenore for a long time, and she had never been the type to get into a slapfight. “Don’t you dare talk about my son!” “You filthy bitch, you turned my brother into a douche, and you’re trying to raise my nephews to be just as bad!” “You’re not even a mother, you don’t get to criticize how I raise my son!” They both tried to hit each other. A loud smacking sound rang out, but Avery couldn’t tell who had made a good hit and who hadn’t. Both women erupted in shouting and insults. Avery was still too shocked to respond right away. Finally, Avery grabbed Vanessa and pulled her off Lenore just as the kitchen filled with the rest of the menfolk. They were all dumbfounded by the eruption of anger, and even Jason stayed silent and still, hugging his father’s leg. “You elitist whore!” Lenore screamed. “Just because you’re so vain and self-obsessed as to spend nine hundred dollars on shoes, doesn’t mean I have to!” “Oh I’m sorry, I don’t steal my shoes from the funerals of obese spinsters,” Vanessa said with a haughty glance at Lenore’s clunky brown shoes. “You sticky-cunted bitch!” “I’ll rip your goddamn eyes out!” Mack stepped forward to intervene. He left his son behind to stand between the two. He put his hands up and said something that Avery couldn’t hear because of the loud shouting of the women. Avery thought he was being the only responsible one in the room by grabbing little Jason by the hand and taking him out. Woody had the same idea at the same time though, and he scooped Jason up in his arms. “Grandpa! What are they saying?” “Nevermind them, they ain’t actin’ like adults,” Woody said. He and Avery went with Jason out to the backyard. Once the door was closed and they couldn’t hear the fight anymore, Avery felt a lot better. He was just about ready for this Thanksgiving to be over. “No one fights like family,” Avery said, a little awkwardly — he didn’t know what else to say. Jason stood among a bucket of toy cars he had brought to the house. He was outside, and he seemed to realize he was supposed to play with those toys. But he didn’t know how or was too stressed by the fight to do so. Avery cleared his throat as he sat down with Jason and his toys, getting him started. “The turkey is not edible.” “Yeah… I’ll do something about it.” Woody said. He called in an order for pizza, and then poked his head back inside. “”Hey y’all, hey! Hey! Shut the fuck up for a second! Hey! I ordered a pizza since you dicks have ruined everything. Y’all better pay, and you better give a good tip cuz it’s a holiday.” He slammed the door shut before anyone could respond. He looked at Avery. “It has been a hell of a day.” “Gotta love your family…” Avery with a wry grin. Now that the fight was over and Avery had played with Jason’s toy cars, Jason had lost his inhibitions — he showed Avery how he was “doing it wrong”, then started playing on his own. Soon the fight faded to a dull roar, and Jason seemed to have forgotten about it. He thought he was alone, but at some point, Shaw came into the living room. “Look…” Shaw leaned in and whispered in Avery’s ear. “I need some booty, man… I’ll… give you a reacharound if you let me take you in the garage and plow into you until your asshole falls off.” Avery sighed and squirmed as Shaw’s hand roamed over his back lightly. Then they both hurried — without walking quickly because people in the house could have been looking — to the garage. Once they got in without being seen, Shaw groaned. “I knew I ain’t wanna have no Thanksgiving, what a pain! And we won’t even get to eat none of that turkey,” Shaw said as he dropped his pants. He scoffed. “Only pizza place open today is shitty as hell. Vonelli’s, man, fuckin’ awful.” He flopped his limp dick between his legs. “C’mon, hurry up. I’ve been waitin’ for food all day, and I am not missing that pizza.” It all only took a minute or two for Avery to have his pants around his ankles and for Shaw to jam his still-limp dick into Avery’s ass. He stiffened up, rubbing his cock between his asscheeks. It all happened so quickly that Avery still wasn’t quite ready. His knees remained sore from getting plowed — right here in this garage, on the lawnmower against which Shaw leaned now — earlier, and this was all happening so fast. “Damn, you’re… in a hurry,” Avery said with a chuckle. Then he bit his lip. Shaw’s cock slammed into him, and he grunted loudly. Avery squirmed and gasped. “Shit!” “Shush…” Shaw snorted and sighed moistly, the sound resonating in Avery’s ears as he worked himself back on Shaw’s dick. Shaw’s hands roamed over his torso and shoulders, holding Avery in place. He drilled his dick in bit by bit. “Shit, don’t let my dad or grandpa know about this,” Shaw said. He inhaled deeply of the scent of Avery’s face. “And especially not this.” He gripped Avery’s dick. Avery was so shocked he couldn’t respond as pangs of pleasure shot through him — he would have never thought someone like Shaw would give him a reacharound. He was pinned between Shaw and the wall, which he clawed at and gasped into. His hand fumbled with Avery’s cock crudely. It was obvious he had little experience with this. In Shaw’s fraternity, there had been a “rule” that was oft-mentioned: you can cornhole your assigned pledge, but you have to give him a reacharound. Having been on both sides of that equation, Shaw had few inhibitions about it now. Jacking Avery off didn’t even feel any different than jacking himself off, except that he got to plow into Avery’s tight ass at the same time. An orgasm hit Avery first. He writhed beneath Shaw’s arms and cried out. The most exquisite bliss flowed through his veins as cum flowed into his ass and Shaw sighed into his ear. “Shit, goddamn,” Shaw said with a sigh. “Thanks, man, I needed that.” The last few drops of cum filled up Avery’s ass. “Yeah, me too,” Avery said. Shaw kept going, moaning right into Avery’s ear, which he nibbled on too as he gyrated his hips. That turned his cumload into a big frothy mess that dripped down Avery’s legs. “Hey Grandpa! Pizza’s here! Where’s your wallet?” “Shaw, c’mon! Pizza!” “Where’s Avery?” Shaw moaned, his voice breaking. He swore and slapped Avery’s asscheek as he pulled out. His last few jets of jizz spurted over Avery’s back. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said. “Shaw!” “I’m coming!” he shouted, then he laughed. He spoke more quietly. “Or rather… I just came.” Avery sighed and sat on the cold cement floor of the garage. “You go ahead. I gotta recover. Thanks for lettin’ me come to your house for Thanksgiving,” he said with a bashful smile. He wiped his ass clean with a rag from the garage. “Your family has been gracious hosts.”
At this work camp, the men get their needs met one way or another…
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Neil thought the difficult part of this job would be living out in the middle of nowhere — literally. He worked for a mining company’s construction crew, building employee housing and other structures on a remote mountainside in southeastern Alaska. He and his fellow workers had been hired from all over the world and brought here to live in the woods. It would take most of a year to build, but at the end, almost an entire town would exist here where currently there was nothing. But the isolation and boredom were not that big of a deal. After a few weeks, Neil got used to that. The guys he worked with were loud and outgoing, and more friendly than Neil would have thought. The middle of nowhere was okay when you had a couple dozen guys to live with. It turned out, however, that the most difficult part of the job was taking a shower. There was no plumbing out here, of course, that was one of the things being built in this work camp. So they had to use a “hygiene tent” for showering. The hygiene tent was simply a large, ordinary tent outside of camp, just like the tents Neil and the other workers lived in. The only thing that made the hygiene tent special was that it was rigged up with hoses as showerheads and had a constant campfire with coals out front to heat up the water before showers. It was living rough, but it was pretty nice as far as living rough went. Neil liked to camp, so it seemed fine to him, in the abstract. It was difficult in practice, however, because Neil had to shower with others. The idea hadn’t bothered him — he was on the baseball team in college, so he was used to changing in a group. But it was different here. In college, everyone had been embarrassed. They got naked as little as possible and they tried to avoid looking at each other. They showered as far away from each other as possible, without talking, and as quickly as they could. Nobody looked at each other’s cocks. Even hinting that you might have seen a buddy’s penis was considered an unpardonable offense. Here, the men were older, rougher, many of them having spent time in prison. Others had been homeless for a time, some were recovering drug addicts, and one had spent years doing missionary work in Honduras. They were not self-conscious at all. Some of them got naked as soon as work was done for the day, and they just sat around drinking beer and scratching their balls. That was not something Neil had ever experienced before. They thought nothing of it, just dropping trou and letting it all hang out. One man even had a big scar on his dick — Neil didn’t notice at first, of course, because he didn’t look, but then the others kept making jokes about how that man’s cock had been torn off by some “crazy chick”. Neil couldn’t help but look, it was just a joke, his cock was there, but scarred. “Man, if a girl showed up here, swear to God… I don’t even care how crazy she is, I’d fuck the shit outta any female who gives up the pussy. She could be as fat as all hell, more cushion for the pushin’!” “My pops used to do this kind of work, he said they used to send prostitutes to live here too. They were just part of the crew. Ain’t allowed to do that no mo’.” Neil wasn’t used to people talking like that. He was from a nice middle-class household. Nobody spoke of prostitutes openly (or even in secret), and they certainly didn’t sit around stark naked. He tried to pretend to fit in though. The one time he got made fun of was when he saw two Confederate-flag-tatted rednecks take their limp cocks out and sword-fight with each other. A gasp escaped from Neil’s lips at the sight of their rough old-man cocks rubbing against each other. Neil blushed — he probably seemed like some Victorian-era elite, ready to flop onto a fainting couch. Neil hated that he came across that way, but he couldn’t help it. This was gross and unsanitary, and he didn’t care who knew he felt that way. “You’re touching dicks!” “You never touched a man’s cock before?” “Check out the lily-livered pussy! Hey, you scared of a real man’s dick!” “No!” Neil said, blushing. “I just don’t cotton to touching other men’s cocks.” “Well, shit, you just wait for Rob to show up. He’ll set ya straight.” “Rob’ll swallow you til you come out the other end, boy! He’ll rock ya world!” Neil didn’t want to ask who Rob was. He was picturing some giant hillbilly who would make him ‘do things’ at night. He was already picturing himself squealing like a piggie. But instead, Rob turned out to be a slim, delicate man with a flirtatious lilt to his voice and a feminine hourglass-shape to his body. He came to every work camp in the area, it seemed, and he helped the men get a nut off and relieve their stiffies. It sounded disgusting to Neil, but he took it in stride. 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 once 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. The weirdo, Rob, who presumably was hired to service the roughnecks, was supposed to do it at night, when everyone else was asleep. That meant there was no way to verify it, but they all treated it like a requirement. He planned on lying about it. He waited for a night when nobody was up late, figuring he could claim it had happened that night and nobody would believe him. A few others had made it pretty clear they didn’t do it even though it was “required”, so it was obviously not a real requirement. Neil fully intended to just make it up. Nobody could prove or disprove it happened. A lot of the other workers did accuse each other of faking it, of being impotent, of being cowards, and they all denied it. Each roughneck would have to do or do not, or lie or lie not, as he saw fit. Rob had made it clear he wouldn’t confirm or deny that anyone had done it. Rob did say it was a requirement, that he was promised every roughneck cock in the camp, but he did not claim that everyone actually did it. So that was Neil’s plan. He’d wait until he fit in better, and then he’d say he did, but he’d say it had happened a few weeks before, like it was no big deal at all at the time. A lot of them treated it like that, as though they got jerked off by men all the time (which, Neil supposed, was possibly true). But that wasn’t how it turned out at all. Neil never got a chance to pretend it had happened. Before he even knew what was happening, he had done it. Neil woke up one morning early — he was the only man in camp who occasionally woke up before dawn — and stumbled out to take a piss. He realized Rob was there, cooking breakfast over an open fire. Neil nodded a bleary-eyed hello at him. And then he realized he was so horny his balls could burst. He’d been stressed out since getting here, but only now felt comfortable enough to realize how horny he was. He wanted to fuck more than anything. He’d had a sexy dream that he only half-remembered, but the part he remembered was that he nearly got to fuck a woman. He woke up right before the sex began, and now he was more horny than he’d been in a long time. Damn, he wanted to fuck. Respectfully. With a respectful manner towards the woman. As part of a dutiful relationship. Neil gulped. His ex was in that dream. Claire was her name, she was blonde as the sun, with tits like… and a personality Neil appreciated. She was smart. A college graduate. She was so hot the thought of her made his dick throb. He wished he’d had a wet dream. When he was a younger man, if he had a dream like that, he absolutely would have. He’d have woken up mid-orgasm, cum spurting over his chest and belly. But nowadays, he needed some real stimulation. Rob looked at him and winked. “Hey,” he said. He stood at an angle, like a woman waiting to be asked to dance. He was fey and limp-wristed, and Neil didn’t much want to get to know him. He wondered how much Rob got paid for doing this shit. He didn’t ask though. It must be a lot. Neil grunted. He decided to go take a shower in the hygiene tent to calm down. A cold shower would help. I bet Rob swallows dick all the way down. Girls don’t really deep-throat, but that weirdo probably does. He tried not to think about that. He went into the shower tent and turned on the hot water. He liked showering early because there was plenty of hot water. The coals had been burning all night, and the water bubbled away outside the hygiene tent He turned around, and saw Rob standing in front of him. Rob grinned. “Hey,” he said again. “Are you ready for your Power Shower?” “Uh…” Neil wanted to say no, but he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse. He wanted a nut so bad it hurt. Just thinking about it made his dick twitch. No one would know. Rob probably wouldn’t say, and even if he did, he often made grandiose claims as a joke. Rob claimed that guy Cooter had a sixteen-inch cock, and they all saw in the shower that it wasn’t that. Nobody would just believe Rob automatically. A jolt of realization flooded Neil — a lot of guys left it unclear whether they had done it or merely joked about doing it, or whether they did it willingly or only because there was a “rule”. That vagueness, he thought, must be because they were all as uncertain about it as Neil. Nobody could ever be criticized for it if it was never clear who had done it or not. So there was no reason not to do it. No one would know. Neil could do it here in the dark, and it’d be like it never happened. By the time he had talked himself into it, Neil felt his dick disappearing into Rob’s mouth. The dim light of the hygiene tent made it seem a lot easier because Neil could easily pretend it was a girl on his cock. A woman. A respectful, respectable woman, whom Neil respected. Unlike these other roughnecks, Neil went to college, and he wanted to act like it. A soft warmth suffused his body, and the stresses drifted out with each one of his rapidly hastening breath. Pleasure erupted through his veins. Neil’s knees almost buckled, and he held onto the fabric wall of the hygiene tent until that made the whole thing shake. He let go. “Oh shit…” Neil tried to stay quiet, but his breathing grew jagged and harsh as his dick rocketed to full erection. Little spams of sensations wracked his muscular frame, and his hands tightened into claws that dug at the air around him. He clenched his teeth. “Daaaaamn…” He’d never had felt like this. He hadn’t realized it until now, but he suspected that no girl had ever really wanted to give him a blowjob — they did it to be nice, or as foreplay, but not because they loved sucking dick. Rob, it was obvious, actually loved the taste of dick. He deep-throated Neil’s cock until his nose nuzzled Neil’s pubic hair. Flashes of intense ecstasy shot up Neil’s spine, and he sucked in his breath. Neil shifted his weight around, as it felt so good it was kind of cunfomortable. He was on the verge of orgasm right away. If he weren’t nervous and focused on trying to be quiet, he would have blown his wad immediately. He was glad to take a little longer because it would have been embarrassing otherwise. Real men don’t blow their nut too quickly. Neil found himself gripping Rob’s head and feeding his dick down his throat. He had never done anything like that. He threw his head back and nearly howled like a wolf — he managed to swallow the sound, so he just screwed up his mouth and face as he opened his mouth. Then, at last, an orgasm ripped through him. Cum sprayed down Rob’s throat and into his belly. The most intense pleasure of Neil’s life flowed like a flood in his veins, and his knees buckled. “Goddamn…” A second fat load of jizz spurted into Rob, as Neil’s cock slowly slid out. Neil’s whole body undulated when he choked, which massaged another final long spurt of cum. A long chest-rattled moan came from Neil, and a murky gurgling groan of desire came Rob, as he slurped down every drop of cum he could get at. Rob pulled off his dick. He wiped his lips off. “Lemme guess… lacrosse?” “What?” Neil was breathless and exhausted. “Which sport did you play in college? Was it lacrosse? I’m trying to develop a talent for guessing sports based on cum flavor,” Rob said. He laughed. “You taste like a lacrosse jock.” Neil blushed. “Oh, well… I played baseball more, but yeah, I went to a Maryland prep school, we were required to play lacrosse too. I’m more of a baseball guy, I played baseball in college.” “I’ll count that one as a win,” Rob said. He stood and stretched his knees. He wiped cum off his face, then he slurped up what he could get off the back of his hand. “You can thank me now.” “Thanks.” “And now you get to watch my ass as I walk away,” Rob said. He swayed his hips as he walked out of the shower tent. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you did it.” Rob walked away with a spring in his step. He hadn’t expected Neil to be that horny so soon, but he was glad to have taken advantage of it. Most guys took a few months to succumb. But Neil was younger than most, Rob thought, so he probably had virile balls, loaded with cum. Rob had a sixth sense about which workers were likely to give up the dick soon, and for tonight, he had his eyes set on a rough-faced worker named Dog Barren. Dog lead a daily prayer before dinner. The others rolled their eyes at it, but it seemed no one wanted to be the one who didn’t pray before dinner. This was a Christian work crew. So Dog had everyone hold hands in a circle, while he led them all in a prayer. He remained shirtless, his broad, smooth body covered in the day’s sweat. One of the things that made him intimidating — aside from his muscles and his size — was the swastika and nazi tattoos all over him. During the prayer, that was all Rob could think about. “I ain’t no nazi,” he had said when he first took his shirt off. His voice was a flat growl, like his throat was lined with razorblades, and he always sounded like he had more to say but wasn’t allowed to say it. “I was in prison. I’s gettin’ ’em removed.” Most of the swastikas were now just faded scars or outlines that hadn’t yet been fully lasered off. One dragon on his bicep was clearly the number 88 that had been turned into a pair of talons, with the dragon drawn to attach to them. “I’s on the Christian road now.” But alas, he thought, it would never happen. Dog had said no way. He wouldn’t do anything motivated by lust. He saved his seed for a Christian wife. He didn’t say that like he believed it, but he did say it, and he was one of the few roughnecks who had not yet come to Rob in the night. He was almost ready to give up here and move onto a different camp. A bunch of lumberjacks had set up near Bend, and he could head over there — a lot of them were Latinos who loved ramrodding pasivos. The only reason he didn’t leave was that it was raining, and had been for days, so the ground was muddy. That would make it difficult to get out to the remote lumberjack camp and even more difficult to set up a tent out there. So Rob stayed. He slept near the hygiene tent. He was a light sleeper, so when someone went in there and turned on the water, he always woke up. That was a signal that someone wanted his mouth. Today, however, when he went in there just before dawn, he was surprised to see Dog Barren standing alone in the shower water. A long tanned dick dangled between his legs. It was fat and juicy, and it drew Rob’s attention right away. “Hey. Oh. Hi, sorry,” Rob said. His heart beat. He still didn’t entirely trust that Dog was no longer a nazi. “I just… I didn’t know it was you. Normally people only come out here before dawn if they want a Power Shower. I-“ “Shut up.” Dog chewed on his lower lip. He came closer to Rob. “Okay. That’s fine.” Rob’s heart quickened, and he took a step back. “Hmm-hmm. I know it’s fine.” He paused for a long time. He looked Rob up and down. He seemed to angle his body to make sure Rob saw his cock and balls in the battery-operated light of the hygiene tent, but Rob couldn’t tell if that was deliberate or not. “Oh.” “Come here,” he said. Rob came closer, and Dog put one heavy hand on his shoulder. He pushed down gently. “What happens at night, once the lights go off… That don’t count. God forgives anything that happens in the dark.” “Oh. Okay.” “So why don’t you get on your knees and see what happens.” “Oh… Okay.” Rob dropped to his knees. Am I really about to jerk off a Nazi? Or a possible-Nazi at least? But before Rob could second-guess himself, his mouth was pried open, and Dog’s fat cock slipped into his mouth. It was cool from the night air, and limp at first. It firmed up in seconds though. Dog groaned and murmured. He held onto Rob’s head and fed his cock in until he was all the way down Rob’s throat, and Rob’s tongue snaked out to teasingly touch his balls. “You see, it ain’t a sin if ya know all the rules,” Dog said. “Like… in the dark, it’s alright to relieve ya sins, and I’m-a do somethin’ else to make it okay.” He pulled his cock out of Rob’s mouth. “But first, boy, I wanna make sure you got discretion. Huh?” “Yeah-“ Dog grabbed him by the neck with one hand. “That ain’t sound serious. You just said yeah like some slack slut who ain’t think this was important. But I is askin’ you as a Christian to put ya name on a promise before God. Ya feel me?” He smiled and placed one of Rob’s hands on his chest. His pecs flexed beneath Rob’s fingers. “So don’t just mumble yeah wit’out thinkin’. You gonna keep this a secret?” “Yes, sir,” Rob said, his voice thready and nervous. “Good. Now bend over on all fours. No talking unless I ask you a question or tell you to do somethin’. Got that?” “Yes, sir-“ “Don’t call me sir, I ain’t a prison guard,” he said. “Now shut your mouth.” A jolt of pain shot up Rob’s spine as Dog’s cock rammed into his ass. Dog was tight and struggled to take it all, but he soon felt a surge of pleasure in his bones. He grunted lightly and Dog lightly grabbed the back of his head. “Shush, no talkin’.” That made it difficult for Rob. He couldn’t even grunt or moan, even as Dog made loud slurping sounds and chewed on his lip, while his cock gurgled in and out of Rob’s ass. His precum made for a moist sound that filled the air of the shower tent. Then, before Rob even knew what had happened, Dog had reached around him and grabbed his cock. “It ain’t no sin if you give a reacharound. Cuz it ain’t motivated purely by lust, ya feel me? Ya doin’ it for a good reason, to make some boy feel good. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?” “Yes.” Rob could barely think. The pressure in his ass was potent, and his cock throbbed in Dog’s grasp. Agonizing pleasure shot up Rob’s spine. He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, uh, yes, I get it. Oh god! Oh god-“ “No talkin’,” Dog said. “I won’t kiss you on the lips, boy. Don’t even ask.” His voice trailed off as he lowered his body onto Rob’s back. Then, despite his words, he forced Rob’s head to the side and kissed him on the lips as his muscles all flexed against Rob’s back. “Ah…” “Shush, boy, I ain’t ask you no question,” Dog said. He pinned Rob flat on the wooden floor of the shower tent, pounding and grinding away at his ass while stroking his dick with one hand. Rob had never experienced anything like this. “You love my dick inside you, huh? Say you love my dick inside you, boy.” “I love your dick inside me,” Rob said. His voice broke as though he was almost in tears, but it was his orgasm breaking inside him. He struggled not to cry out passionately, and when he was unable to control himself, the sound was swallowed up by another kiss from Dog’s mouth. Dog pulled off as he shot his own wad into Rob’s ass. He opened his mouth, hot breath condensing onto Rob’s cheek. “I won’t ever kiss you, boy, don’t even try.” He slathered Rob in kisses, his cum filling Rob’s with creamy, sticky goodness. Finally they were both done. Dog stayed in place, his cock limpening inside Rob for a few minutes. At last, every drop of cum had leaked out. He pulled his dick out and spread Rob’s cheeks. He peered at the gaping cream-filled hole the best he could in the dim light of the shower tent. “I think I love you, boy,” Dog said. “But only for right now. You’s a sinner, and in the light of the Lord’s dear sun, you will soon bask in rays of truth.” “Uh-huh.” Dog grunted. “Don’t move, boy. I don’t wanna see you spill a drop. Let my nut fill you up all inside, that way you don’t forget the message I been givin’ you.” He paused. “Yeah, this was a message, boy, a message about religion. You best find yaself the Holy Spirit in ya heart and get forgiveness. Me? I already been forgived, ya feel me?” “Yeah,” Rob said, too tired to really think about what he was saying. After a long pause, Dog grabbed the clothes he had come in with. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Then he said, “You stay here ten minutes to think about what you done. Not just tonight, all the things you done. I’m goin’ to bed.” He paused. “Bring lube tomorrow night.” Then he walked away without waiting for a response. “I will.” Rob was dazed and exhausted, yet so satisfied he thought he might never leave. These, he thought, were the workers for him.
Charlie is a football player on the road with his college team when he stumbles across a notorious cruising spot, where his coach shows him the ropes… Coach Thickman introduces Charlie to an exciting world of man-on-man truck stop action!
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Charlie Smitkowski nervously got out of the van and stretched in the truck stop parking lot. His teammates all seemed so confident, but he didn’t know how they could be. He certainly didn’t feel confident here. He never did. For one thing, he was nervous he would get hard in the shower. Thinking about it did give him a stiffy, or at least it made his dick twitch like it might get stiff. Maybe that wasn’t a reasonable fear — he had never gotten hard in the group shower back in the GHU athletic building. But he would be nervous here, naked among strangers instead of his teammates. The GHU football team scattered towards the showerhouse. Charlie gulped. He was glad to be out of the van, which stank of his teammates’s sweat. They had spent the last three hours in the van. There were only two universities in Wyoming with football fields, so Charlie and his teammates made this day and a half voyage by van often, every time they played the other team. They always stayed in a hotel halfway there, but that hotel — the only option for many miles around — had little to no hot water. They claimed they did, but the showers either didn’t work, didn’t spray hot water or sprayed only brown, muddy water. So no one ever showered there at the motel. They stopped at the Ramwide Truck Stop to shower instead. But it wasn’t just his team. Old men showered there, rednecks, black men, bikers, old men, Latinos with tattoos and bullet wounds — it was scary. This was a rural area, but one that was right off a highway with a lot of truck traffic. The truck stop was busy even out here in the middle of nowhere. But Charlie felt compelled not to let on that he was scared. He didn’t want to be the only one on the team who felt that way. He’d look like the biggest pussy in the world. None of the other players seemed nervous about it. They were all nonchalant, like they showered with dozens of naked strangers every day. So he hung back. He tried to steel his nerves. He went into the showerhouse after his teammates, thinking he’d feel more comfortable that way. A fat cock sat stared at him. Charlie backed out in a panic. There was a man changing in there, a naked white man with a shaved head and a vaguely nazi look, his huge white dick dangling just a few feet from the door. He made a kissy face at Charlie, who turned tail as he heard the man laugh. Not wanting to look frightened, Charlie went to the vending machines. He made it look like he simply decided to drink a bottle of iced tea before going in the showerhouse. He wondered if he could get away with not showering. It’s not like anyone was watching to make sure. He didn’t think he stank, and he hadn’t been sweating very much. He could shower in Cheyenne anyway — he never really got why they bothered showering here in the truck stop, when they’d all go straight to the visitors’s locker room in Cheyenne as soon as they got there. It was just instinct and habit, he guessed, that made his teammates shower in the morning. Nobody wanted to be the stinkbutt who didn’t shower, and nobody wanted to look like a squeamish punk unwilling to get naked in front of other men. He hurried around the back of the showerhouse, hoping to relax out of view for a moment. The woods behind the truck stop were dense with foliage, so Charlie couldn’t see more than a few feet away. There was a patch of no-man’s-land between the showerhouse and the highway, which was where Charlie headed. A path was there, blocked by shrubbery so it wasn’t visible until Charlie was in that patch of scrubby forest. It wasn’t a marked path, just a beaten route in the dirt. Charlie took a few steps down it, curious why there was a trail out here. “Hmmm-hmm…” That was Coach Thickman’s voice. Charlie gulped. He crept closer. When he got around a tree, he saw Coach Thickman — a hefty, broad-chested black man with a scruffy beard and a shaved head — with his pants around his ankles. He held onto the scalp of a thin white man as he rammed his dick into the man’s throat. Charlie gasped. He wanted to run away, he felt an instinctual need to leave. But he also couldn’t quite bear to stop watching. He wanted to see what happened. His eyes opened wide. He had never seen anything like this. Coach Thickman looked confident — he always did, he was swaggerous, dominant, tough. He had a powerful body, thick as anything, with a hairy chest for a black man. He taught “industrial arts” and coached the basketball team. He often came out on football team trips too, which he said was because he wanted to support them but probably was because he could use the overtime. He had a cocky strut that Charlie had always found exciting, exhilirating, even arousing. That was how Charlie wished he could carry himself. Coach Thickman’s heavy balls slapped against the man’s chin as he humped his cock down the man’s throat. Thickman let out a little bristly moan too, and he murmured some soft nothings as he pounded away. The white man swallowing Coach’s cock was Avery, the team manager and a junior at the college. He came here frequently to cruise, so it was a happy coincidence that the team would be here too. They were mostly truckers, Southern men with huge cocks and musky bodies. Avery would lick them clean like a cat if they let him. Coach Thickman’s foot-long cock throbbed veinily in Avery’s mouth. The sour-salty flavor of precum coated his tongue and throat, as he swallowed every inch of that massive shaft. “Hmmm… Come on, open up,” Coach Thickman murmured. He used both hands to keep Avery’s head in place. He didn’t pound into Avery’s throat violently. He focused on grinding his dick deeply in Avery’s gullet, continuing even when he felt resistance and gagging. Thickman knew well how to throat a man down, and Avery was an expert in accepting massive alpha male cocks. Intense pleasure rocketed through his body. A part of Coach Thickman thought he was being watched, but he ignored that feeling — he didn’t mind, for one thing, he liked putting on a little show. He wondered if any of the football players were watching, he hoped so. “Swallow that shit, boy…” Coach Thickman said with a grunt. He sprayed his wad deeply into Avery’s body, coating his belly and filling it with his creamy seed. It was hot and thick, and it seeped into Avery’s flesh from his stomach. Spasms of pleasure rocketed up Thickman’s body, and his muscles all rippled at once. A throaty groan came out of him. His muscles were so powerful, so thick, so firm — or so they looked. Charlie had to fight the urge to show himself and grope Coach Thickman. Sweat clung to the curves of his biceps, and it glistened off his skin in the dim light. Charlie murmured to himself and licked his lips, his hand in his pants playing with his own throbbing erection. “Hmm-hmm, take it, swallow it, damn…” Thickman’s fat cock kept going, pulsating in Avery’s throat. Avery choked up a big wad of white precum that dripped down his chin and landed on the forest floor. Avery gurgled merrily, slurping on Coach Thickman’s limpening dick and taking in every drop he could. Finally he was done. “Damn, boy…” Coach Thickman took his dick out and tucked it away in his track pants. His last few drops of jizz were soaked up by the fabric of his pants, which made a small wet spot in his crotch. Thickman either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”We got another away game in two weekends. You gonna drive the van for us?” “Maybe,” Avery said with a smile, his hands moving up Thickman’s body under his shirt, to grope up his muscles. “I’ll have to check my calendar.” They kept talking, but Charlie darted away. He didn’t want to get caught watching. That would be embarrassing, especially since he realized only just now that he had been jacking off. He had shot his own wad onto the ground. It felt so good and so natural he didn’t notice until he was orgasming, and now his dick was so sensitive it hurt. Did they know he had done that? Would anyone be able to tell? Charlie was in a panic as he fled back to the bus. Luckily, everyone just assumed Charlie had taken a shower, and no one asked. He snuck a sniff of his pits, which didn’t smell too strongly of sweat. Charlie assumed he hadn’t been seen because no one ever mentioned it. But Avery had seen. He knew better than to acknowledge it though, because he thought he could still land a taste of Charlie’s meat if he waited for the right moment. Charlie Smitkowski was one of the athletes at GHU Avery most craved. Avery hung out behind the truck stop waiting for that van of football jocks to return. He got a few truckers in the two weeks he waited, but no one as handsome as Coach Thickman. That was expected. They couldn’t all be winners. Still, he waited. This would pay off soon, he was sure, and he had little else to do as his classes were almost done for the semester. He was just studying for the finals at this point. He heard the van pull up while Avery finished a bottle of water at a picnic table near the showerhouse. It had been a slow day, unseasonably hot and humid as could be. He went to the air conditioner, where he could stand and peer into a window into the shower and the whirr of the compressor meant Avery didn’t have to worry about making noise. That position gave him a good look into the shower, and he could see out front if Coach Thickman was heading back here. A muscular blond jock was flopping his dick between his fingers as he soaped himself up. Avery watched the shower water run over his plump ass as he shook his cock — he seemed to be making a point about how big or high-quality his cock was, or maybe he was just trying to get attention. But out of the corner of his eye, Avery saw that Charlie Smitkowski meander casually behind the showerhouse. He went around the other side of the building, so he didn’t see Avery at the air conditioner. As soon as he saw Charlie, Avery hurried away from the air conditioner and darted behind a tree. He pretended to be waiting there when Charlie nervously approached. “Hey,” Avery said. “Hi.” Charlie was tense, lips pursed together. He didn’t know what brought him here, except that he thought that Avery would probably be here again, and he had made sure to beat Coach Thickman here. Charlie figured that he’d have some privacy if he was first. Avery didn’t say anything else. He just dropped to his knees and pulled Charlie’s dick out through the fly of his jeans. His dick disappeared into the man’s mouth, and Charlie let out a nervous whimper. Pleasure shot up his spine. It felt good, better than anything he had ever done. He wondered if this man was that good, or if he had simply never been with a good woman. His dick rocketed to full erection. Charlie moaned and licked his lips. He could feel an orgasm already rising up within him, and he was worried he’d cum quickly and look like a loser. “Howdy, son,” Coach Thickman’s baritone voice boomed and echoed in Charlie’s mind. Charlie winced and turned around just in time to get a face full of Coach Thickman’s bare chest. He was in his boxers and shower sandals, his hefty chest shaking as he came closer. His dick was already poking out through the fly of his shorts. “Oh, uh! Hi! Coach Thickman! Hi! I-“ “Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a low, throaty murmur. He stood next to Charlie, so close their asscheeks pressed against each other. Charlie felt small and weak. Coach Thickman’s heavy arm draped over Charlie’s shoulders, and his armpit hair rubbed against Charlie’s bicep. That was enough to keep Charlie from cumming too quickly. He was too nervous to do anything more than try not to smell Coach Thickman’s armpit — which didn’t smell bad, since he had just showered moments ago, it smelled like deodorant, but it was intense and warm and Charlie felt like less of a man every time he caught a whiff. Their dicks touched. Charlie gulped. He looked around as though considering fleeing — the thought did cross his mind, but he wouldn’t want to blue-ball himself like that. He could do this. It was so exciting his heart raced, he felt like he’d never really been alive before this moment. His pale tan cock smushed up against Coach Thickman’s. Charlie was glad to see that they were the same size — he would have felt inadequate if his dick was small. Avery could tease both cocktips at once, slurping down the precum that flowed from both piss-slits. He tongued both shafts and licked all four balls in turn. Avery enjoyed dragging this out because he liked the sight of both men feeling each other up. It was Coach Thickman mainly, whose arms flexed as he moved, thick muscles caressing Charlie’s smoother chest. But Charlie couldn’t quite stay still either. He jumped back and forth on his feet. Every time a shiver of pleasure shot through him he blushed and quivered a little more. Charlie saw Coach Thickman’s mouth coming and could have moved his head away. It was obvious they were about to kiss. A part of him wanted to be kissed. For just a moment, he allowed himself to feel desire for the mature football coach with the grizzled beard. Charlie gulped. “Ah-!” Charlie’s gasp of surprise was cut off by Coach Thickman kissing him on the lips. Their tongues collided in Charlie’s mouth, while Charlie lost himself in his coach’s arms. He didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like forever. Coach Thickman noisily kissed him, slobbering over his lips and cheeks and neck. He even left a hickey that Charlie would later have to claim was from a girl last night (luckily, the others all believed him). They were still kissing as they both orgasmed at once. Avery slurped on both cocks the best he could, slathering both dicktips with his spit. He used one hand on each shaft too. He loved being double-teamed in the mouth, especially by men whose dicks instinctively fought with each other for space in his mouth. Creamy cum coated his tongue and ran down his throat. It was salty and warm, with two distinct flavors — one bright and sunny, the other fragrant and spiced — Avery couldn’t decide which one came from which. He guzzled down every drop, continuing to lick both piss-slits even as both men’s muscles twitched. “Goddamn!” Charlie sounded like he might cry, he was so impassioned and stressed. He wiggled in Coach Thickman’s arms. “Shit yeah,” Coach Thickman said. He finally let go and stepped away. He took a deep breath, laughed and smacked Charlie’s asscheek. “Good job, son.” “Uh, thanks.” Charlie’s face was red, and he took a deep breath. He tried to look nonchalant. “You boys have a good game,” Avery said. He stood up and stretched his legs. “But you better move on. I want to get going before too late.” Charlie was glad to go. He was glad for the unspoken rules of man-on-man action — Coach Thickman didn’t need to tell him that this was a don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of scenario. Coach Thickman would never mention it, and Charlie would try hard not to think about it. It was hard not to think about it though, over the next few weeks as Charlie prepared for the state championship that would bring him back to that same truck-stop once more. That had felt so good he could scream, and he needed to feel that way again. He even considered driving down there once in the middle of the night — if he hadn’t needed to borrow a car, he probably would have done it. Of course, Avery probably wouldn’t be there at three o’clock in the morning anyway, Charlie told himself. Charlie had never told anyone what happened. He and Coach Thickman looked at each other and shared wry, awkward grins, but Charlie didn’t think there was any way that anyone else would find out. He went to the truck stop one more time. Charlie told himself that this would be it — the last time the team went came to this truck stop this year. Hopefully next year he wouldn’t be doing anything like this. Maybe he’d even have a girlfriend by then. He hung back while the rest of the team hurried into the shower, while Charlie snuck around back. He arrived in the woods behind the truck stop shower, where he turned around a tree and ran into Coach Thickman. “Charlie, my boy.” Coach Thickman crossed his arms over his big black chest. He was hairy, with an amateur bodybuilder’s body, which made Charlie nervous — last time, Coach Thickman’s body hadn’t been as hairy because he’d shaved his chest recently. But now Charlie felt even weaker and younger than ever. Thickman glared at him and placed one heavy hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Coach Thickman! I was just back here, uh, to… to see, y’know, what-“ “Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “I know exactly why you was back here.” “Yes, sir.” Then, in one smooth motion, Coach Thickman lowered his head and planted his lips right on Charlie’s. At first, Charlie had an urge to push away and make him stop, the same urge he’d had before when they got their dicks wet at the same time. But then Charlie realized he wanted it. He wasn’t scared — a little nervous, but not scared — and he wanted this to happen more than anything. He didn’t mind that Avery wasn’t here. He wanted to taste Coach Thickman. Coach’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s body, holding him close as they kissed. Coach Thickman stroked his smooth back and shoulders, making Charlie quiver in excitement. “What.. was that?,” Charlie said, his voice wavery and plaintive. “Hush. That ain’t the issue at hand, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “We gotta get down to business, and that business is makin’ love. We gonna brew up a big pot of lust, boy. Ya feel me?” “Yes, Coach.” Charlie shook as he sunk to his knees. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. He opened his mouth and it filled immediately with Coach’s throbbing black cock. It was thick and veiny, and it tasted both bad and good at once — it was musty and fresh, sweet and sour, salty and watery, creamy and thick, all at once, and it made Charlie want to taste even more of it. He opened his mouth wide, letting Coach Thickman drill his dick down his throat. Charlie stroked himself off as he took it. His throat gradually loosened until finally he felt that entire massive rod invading his throat with each thrust of Coach’s hips. It felt so right. Charlie was right where he wanted to be, and his anxiety vanished; he was no longer worried about being caught, or about being teased, or about Coach Thickman thinking him less of a man. All Charlie wanted to do was swallow down every inch of his mean and every drop of his cumload. “Alright, if you ready, bend over, boy,” Coach Thickman said, murmuring softly. He pulled his dick out and gently guided Charlie into position. At first, Charlie didn’t know if he wanted to do this. He hadn’t really thought about taking it in the ass. Was this how people normally did that the first time? He didn’t know. He wanted to come up with reasons not to do it, but his mind couldn’t come up with any. The only downside, he thought, was that it would hurt the first time, or so he assumed. When he felt his ass stretch, however, the pain was not bad at all. Coach Thickman’s cock was lubed up with spit (and a little actual lube that Coach Thickman had brought for precisely this sort of occurrence). “Oh god!” Charlie gritted his teeth. There was potent pressure, like he needed to shit but couldn’t. That sensation only gradually loosened as he felt more and more dickmeat cram into his tight hole. He wasn’t sure he could keep doing this. The feelings were so powerful he couldn’t even speak. All he could do was wrench his head and let out a meek, wordless howl that made Coach Thickman chuckle. His dick twitched in Charlie’s ass. “I’m all the way in ya now, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a grunt. He smacked Charlie’s cheek, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. “We’s makin’ love.” “Oooooh….” Charlie’s voice broke. He tried to stroke himself off, but he couldn’t focus enough. His asshole and prostate commanded all of his attention. He didn’t need to jack himself off though. As Coach Thickman slammed into him, his hands roamed over Charlie’s body and soon reached around to his cock. With Charlie on all fours, Coach Thickman gave him a reacharound. He slammed his dick in with all the power he could muster — that was why Thickman cornholed men so much, they didn’t complain when you rammed it in, not like women did — until his balls made a pleasing thwack sound every time they slapped against Charlie’s body. “Alright, boy, we gonna blow our nut in a minute,” Coach Thickman said, showering Charlie’s tense face and neck with kisses. His deep gravelly voice resonated in Charlie’s ear. “Ya hear me? You might feel all kinda bad feelin’s afterwards. You might start thinkin’ you you less of a man. Don’t think none of those things. What we doin’ here ain’t no thing, ain’t nothin’ you gotta ever think about again.” “Yes, Coach,” Charlie’s voice was tense and pinched. He moaned as his cock throbbed an orgasm erupted inside him. “This is just lust. We just actin’ on feelings, and we ain’t gotta think ’bout that lust again, not till those feelings appear once more. Ya feel me?” “Yes, Coach.” Cum sprayed into Charlie’s ass, great big gobs of it that coated his insides and seeped through his belly. Charlie was so focused on that pleasure deep within him that he barely noticed his own orgasm or the jets of cum he shot onto the ground and Coach Thickman’s wrist. They kept going. Charlie was nearly totally limp, unable to process the potent pleasure wracking his body, but Coach Thickman didn’t slow down at all. He kept slamming his cock in and out of Charlie’s ass, making a big frothy mess of cum that formed a puddle on the ground. At last he was done. Charlie’s mind reeled as he collapsed and Coach Thickman pulled out. “Ah, shit, shit,” Charlie said with a grunt. He tried to stand but his knees were weak. Coach Thickman helped him up. “You alright, boy?” “Fine.” Charlie blushed. “Good. Cool. Fine.” “Shush. C’mon, boy, we gotta go take a shower. Remember, ain’t nothin’ happened. If anyone asks, we came back here to share a cigarette we ain’t want the others to see us smoke,” Coach Thickman said. “You ready?” “Yeah. I’m ready,” Charlie said. “Next time we have an away game-“ “Hush, boy. We’ll worry about that the next time I see you back here.”
A hardcore gangbang porno shoot gets out of control before an old-school fluffer is brought in to help out. Can Rob save this nasty interracial video shoot?
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Rob was excited as he walked onto the set. He showed up on-time, but none of the talent was there yet. That didn’t much surprise him. He was let in by a mouse-faced white man with a balding head. He checked Rob’s name against a list, and he initially said no after a cursory glance. “You ain’t on the list.” “I’m supposed to be, I swear,” Rob said. He momentarily wondered if Thumper had lied to him. “Look, this ain’t that kind of movie. You prolly got the wrong address,” the bald man said. “This is a gangbang flick. Black guys and a white chick. You ain’t a black guy, and you ain’t a white chick.” “I swear, I’m on there as a fluffer.” “Fluffer? We ain’t had fluffers since they invented that little blue pill,” the man said, then he glanced back down at the list. “Oh, wait… You’re on here as Mr. White’s ‘personal assistant’.” “That’s it. That’s me,” Rob said. “He brought his own fluffer?” Rob shrugged. “He said no one’s taking Wiagro anymore.” “I’ve been shooting porno all week, they’re all taking Wiagro.” “White guys?” “What?” “I mean… in his words… well, I don’t wanna use his wording exactly, but he basically said black guys aren’t taking it anymore.” “Oh. What? Really?” “Yeah, something about police brutality.” “What does Wiagro have to do with police brutality?” “I dunno. Ask him.” The bald man shrugged. “Fine. You can’t eat from the craft services table, I’ll kick you out if you do.” “Okay.” Rob walked in. The set was made up to look like a dingy alleyway, with trash strewn about and a dumpster nearby. The dumpster was covered in paint that looked like garbage. The set was very well-done, and it seemed like it should smell bad, but all Rob smelled was hand sanitizer. Near one wall was a table of food — the craft services table, presumably. Rob was too nervous to eat, and the lunch meat looked gray and cheap and room-temperature, so he was not tantalized. The bald man kept glancing at him though, like he was expecting Rob to sneak a few bites. He soon saw evidence of the woman — not her, but her agent appeared on set and whispered to the bald man, something about her “having some questions about the scene”. Rob desperately wanted to sneak closer, but he didn’t want to get kicked off the set before anything even started. When the men began to show up, Rob was excited, awkward at first as they all looked at him like he was a benign tumor they had just found. No one asked why he was there. Rob didn’t know if that was because Thumper had told them, or if they just didn’t care. Thumper was last to arrive. He made eye contact with Rob, nodded, then went straight for the nine other black men who were already there. They milled about in one corner of the set. After slapping hands with the other nine guys, Thumper lowered his voice to say something important, and they all leaned in. Rob couldn’t tear his eyes away. It sounded like he was encouraging them, almost like a coach or a civil rights leader, and every few seconds he was interrupted by a chorus of uh-huh and yeah, homeboy. Rob drooled at the thought of bedding these studs, who were the literal embodiments of the black buck mandingo archetype in the national consciousness — these were some of the biggest stars in the industry today. Thumper White, a middle-aged former convict and heavyweight boxer, had been humping Rob off and on since he got out of prison, and invited him along to the filming of Ten in Three at One Time, an interracial gangbang porn film that Thumper starred in, being filmed right off campus. Rob was skipping class to be here. Attending a shoot like this had always been one of Rob’s dreams, and this had to be one of the best movies for him to watch. He gleaned from overhearing the crew set up that the ten gangbangers were supposed to “dp her every which way” including double-anal, double-vaginal and double-anal, even supposedly at the same time. He says it’s impossible, he just wants to film them trying. The girl appeared, flanked by her manager. She was Jaleena Tight, a well-known star in the industry. She was tall, pretty but in a fake, made-up way — Rob got the impression she would be a lot less hot up close and without her makeup on. She looked bored, as if she got triple-penetrated by ten cocks at once every day. “Alright, let’s get started, come on, guys, over here,” said the director, the bald man, whose name was Gerry. He didn’t look at all excited to be here, Rob thought. Thumper broke up the huddle. They had all wrapped arms around each other, and Rob was so close he could imagine himself in the center of that circle. His dick jumped to full erection in his pants. As Gerry ran through the shooting schedule, Rob daydreamed. He couldn’t have assembled a better cast of hardcore thugs. All of the legends in the field were here, including Bryan Plumper, who pretended not to recognize Rob even though he’d been giving Rob reluctant reacharounds every week for months now — Bryan was in desperate need of money and Rob made him agree to regular reacharounds in exchange for cash. Bryan kept that on the downlow though. Rob was already rock-hard before anyone took their cocks out. He was embarrassed to jack off, so he just let his cock get hard in his pants as the men approached the girl. “Yo, girl, you look good enough to eat.” “Look good enough to fill up, ya mean.” She smiled, though she obviously didn’t much want to be doing this. All ten men talked at once, muttering seductive come-ons to her, interspersed with trashy insults. “Come on, slut, suck my dick” She unzipped the fly of the first man, Bryan Plumper, and his limp dick flopped out. Bryan Plumper remained one of the top black male stars of porno today, both because of his Hollywood handsome face, his perfect body like a professional athlete, his outrageously huge cock and because of his cocky onscreen personality. He grinned like a jerk as he flopped his dick against her face. “How my balls smell, ya trailer park bitch?” His limp cock was still one of the biggest Rob had ever seen. He didn’t want to get kicked off the set, so he didn’t get too close, but he was impressed — it was even bigger in real life than it seemed on his computer monitor. “Hey, uh… Bryan…” the director, Gerry said. “Uh… Can you get hard?” He sounded like he was surprised he wasn’t already hard. Bryan shrugged. “Get me a better girl, and I will.” He frowned at the girl, who blanched but didn’t respond. She licked his dick slowly, but not in a slow, seductive way, just in a sloppy, bored way, as though she was imagining herself licking a popsicle she didn’t much enjoy. “Aren’t you on Wiagro?” Bryan shook his head, echoed by the other nine. It was Thumper who spoke up though. He had his dick, half-hard already, sticking out the fly of his jeans. “We ain’t takin’ that no mo’. Ain’t you on Twitter, man?” The other guys chorused their agreement. Gerry nodded. “Yeah, technically. I don’t do it personally though. I have a Sri Lankan woman who does that for me. What’s going on?” “The CEO of the company who makes Wiagro is a fucking racist,” Thumper said. The other nine tried to explain it all at the same time, so Rob couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he got the gist of it: the CEO had said that black men killed by the police ‘should have been following the law, so they wouldn’t get themselves shot’. Did he really say that? Rob followed politics closely and hadn’t heard that one, so he found it dubious — and why would anyone have even asked some pharmaceutical executive about police brutality? The gangbang crew all flexed their muscles at the director, as though Gerry was responsible for it all. “Okay, okay, okay,” Gerry said, holding his hand up for silence. “I get it, guys, I do. I understand. But you know… we’re shootin’ porno here, right? You have to have a hardon. That’s pretty much a basic rule. You can’t just flop your dick around like a dead fish.” Thumper walked over to Rob. “We goin’ old-fashioned, Gerry. I brought a fluffer along,” he said. “Get down.” Rob got on his knees, swallowing Thumper’s cock in one smooth motion. The others all burst into laughter and chatter. Disappointingly, the other nine made it clear they weren’t going to use Rob to get hard. They all said they could do it on their own. “I don’t need no sissy, Gerry. I do this the even more old-fashioned way.” But Rob could see that more than a few were watching him out of the corner of their eyes. Rob deep-throated Thumper’s cock, putting on a good show for the guys who weren’t focused on the girl — she was still sucking off Bryan Plumper, who was dressed as a pimp and making demands of her. The others all looked away, but Rob could see them glancing over out of the corner of their eyes. “Yeah girl look up at me when you suck my cock. Go on, go deeper. Deeper, baby, you can do it. It’s okay to gag a little, ain’t nuffin’ wrong with dat.” When it felt like Thumper was near orgasm, he pulled away from Rob. He hurried over to Bryan Plumper and rammed his cock next to his in the girl’s mouth. “Hey, homeboy! Ain’t nobody asked for yo’ dick!” Bryan said. He looked at Thumper crossly. If it weren’t for the others laughing at him, Rob suspected Bryan would have punched him. “Thumper don’t care, homeboy. He old-school like that. He a prison homeboy.” For his part, Thumper didn’t even seem to notice. He let his dick touch Bryan’s, and the girl sucked on both tips. She didn’t use a lot of tongue, and it didn’t look like a great blowjob. Bryan shook his head. “Old man, you are one nasty homeboy.” Thumper shrugged. “Whatchoo complainin’ ’bout? We double-teaming this bitch every way, right?” “Yeah, but we don’t do that any more than we got to. We start off with just some one-on-ones,” Bryan said. His erection had deflated. “Bryan… What happened to your hardon?” Gerry asked. He sounded frustrated. “This homeboy’s cock happened to it!” Bryan shouted. He dropped his green pimp pants and turned around. His perfectly smooth, round asscheeks were right in front of the woman’s face. “Come on, lick my ass, bitch. That always gets me hard.” “No.” Bryan looked at her through his legs in anger. He had to move his cock and balls to one side to see her face. “What?” “That wasn’t on the list. I ain’t being paid for a rimjob,” the girl said. She looked away from Bryan’s ass. “Get your ass outta my face.” Gerry sighed. “Yeah, that’s right. No rimjobs today.” “You said we was doing it all!” Bryan said. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “You said we was doing rimjobs!” Gerry shook his head. “I said that was the plan, Bryan. I said that like two months ago. Plans change.” As they continued arguing, Rob was surprised by Enrico Strong. He was a plump young black man, the one there with the biggest belly, though he wasn’t fat, he just had a lot of muscle and a fair amount of padding over it. He didn’t seem at all self-conscious about it. Enrico was the only one who had taken his shirt off so far, so everyone could see his body. “Yo, you get me hard, huh, sissy… Huh?” Enrico said. Rob kissed his cock without answering. He swallowed it all the way down to the root. Enrico looked like he didn’t want to attract attention from the others, who were whacking their limp dicks against the woman’s face. She sucked off each one in turn. “Yo, this bitch ain’t suckin’ like she need it.” “Come on, bitch, deep-throat that shit. You just playin’ with the tip.” Then Enrico pulled away from Rob and shoved in between the others. He didn’t seem to notice — or didn’t care — that his dick leaked precum on their thighs as he squeezed past them to shove his dick in her throat. “Finally!” Gerry said. “A hard cock.” He looked to Rob and raised his eyebrows. Rob nodded. Gerry cleared his throat. “Okay, everybody — everyone but Thumper and Enrico, I mean — go on and let the fluffer get you hard.” Rob opened his mouth wide. He smiled proudly. He had fantasized about these porn stars off so much, and now it was actually happening. “Oh shit, I ain’t think we was gonna do it, but this sloppy-ass slut is not doin’ it fo’ me.” First was Justyn Dong, a tall, lean man with a tight little face, not especially handsome, though he had a nice body and a huge cock. There was a little blood flowing through his cock already, and when Rob sucked it down, it quickly perked into life. “Damn, this punk know how to do it right” Justyn fed his dick down Rob’s throat. He lightly slapped the side of Rob’s throat as though that helped it go down. “Okay, come on, Justyn, let’s go. Y’all need to learn how to use a fluffer. You just get hard, then come over here and fuck a little,” Gerry said. Justyn mockingly saluted him as he left Rob’s mouth and returned to the set. “Alright, slut, you ain’t had nothin’ yet.” He was replaced by Tyrell Brickley, a local, and Steel Lexington, a cool, fashionable homeboy, who wore reflective sunglasses still, even though he had taken off the rest of his clothes. He slowly spat onto his rod as Rob sucked down all that sweat, and the other one, the local Tyrell, was mollywopping his dick on both Rob’s face and Steel’s dick. His dick was thick and veiny, and it soon stirred to life in Rob’s throat. “Fuck yeah, you got that nice open punk’s neck, I like that.” He even lifted his sunglasses over his head as the first few drops of salty precum leaked down Rob’s throat. Next up was Shortie Nack, a squat young thug with a thick mustache and a plump body, not quite as wide as Enrico’s but with plenty of thickness. “Get ready to choke, alright? My paps always told me if you gonna ramrod a homeboy, you gotta show him who’s boss. I know you ain’t a homeboy, but I think the same principle apply even more to honkies.” Rob deep-throated his dick and licked his sweaty nutsack as he enthusiastically agreed. Then Shortie took Rob by the ear, held him in place, and rammed his cock down Rob’s throat. His gyrations were so intense Rob choked loudly, and Gerry yelled at Shortie to shut up. “Can’t help it, Massa Gerry, this’s the only one I’s uh-know how to use his dick, suh!” He laughed as he left Rob’s spasming face to join the gangbang. He looked back longingly at Rob, whose features were bright red from both embarrassment and lack of oxygen. After that was Mr. Markum, the only one there who actually looked like a nice guy. He had deep dimples and a round face, and he smiled a lot, even as he nervously let Rob swallow his cock. He didn’t quite have a six-pack, and his fat dick pulsated in Rob’s throat. “This is actually my first time lettin’ a man on my meat. Ain’t that bad, really… Works too, he gettin’ me hard in no time.” As Mr. Markum went back to the girl, Rob swallowed down Baron Hung. He whacked his dick across Rob’s face before he let himself get fully hard. “Just wanna make sure you see this meat before you gag on it some more — you worship it, huh?” Rob’s throat was already too full to answer. He let his eyes say yes as he choked on the entire ten inches of black cock in his throat. Wesley Gripes came next, second-to-last. He was possibly the oldest, Rob thought, or maybe roughly tied with Thumper. But while Thumper was a burly thug with a few gray hairs appearing on his chest and head, Wesley had a smooth, hairless body, and a few wrinkles on his face, but otherwise didn’t look especially old. “These other homeboys don’t even know, man. But I do. I was makin’ porno when these homeboys was in diapers. Back then, we always had fluffers, and they was always sissies. Or sometimes just some homeboy who piss me off, so I tell him he gotta be my fluffer fo’ a day. Lemme spit in yo’ throat, bitch. He took his dick out and spat a thick wad of saliva right down Rob’s throat. Rob choked and gasped for more. “I wish I could stay, bitch, but that bitch over there wants me, and I’s gettin’ paid fo’ that.” When Wesley walked away, spit dripping from his dick, the only one left was Bryan Plumper. He sneered down at Rob and crossed his arms over his massive chest, still pretending he didn’t know Rob. He had a huge rod, so big Rob thought it might be the first cock in his life he couldn’t deep-throat. At least one of the other gangbangers chuckled as though they didn’t believe him, but Bryan didn’t acknowledge it. He took a deep breath and whacked his limp dick over Rob’s face. He put the tip in Rob’s mouth, then stopped himself. “Nah. I can’t do this,” Bryan said. “You gonna eat my ass, bitch.” He bent over on all fours, putting his face on the ground and his ass wide in the air. He wiggled his hips as though waiting to get a dick up his ass. “I was lookin’ forward to a rimjob today.” Rob dived right into his ass. He plunged his tongue deep in Bryan’s ass. “You see, bitch? You should do this, take a fucking lesson from this punk,” Bryan said, chuckling. He repeated himself until the girl angrily said she heard him. He moaned passionately, so loud he grabbed attention from the guys who weren’t currently getting in position to start fucking the girl. Finally, his cock hard, Bryan got up and raced over to the girl. She was sitting on Mr. Markum’s cock, easing into her ass. Without a word of warning, Bryan pushed his own cock into her pussy. His balls touched Mr. Markum’s as they both began fucking her. The woman was limp, as though she had been double-penetrated so often she barely noticed. Bryan roared and flexed his biceps as he pushed inside her. “Yo, Bryan, can you get your balls off me?” Mr. Markum said. His voice was muffled because he was under the girl, who was herself under Bryan’s heavy body. But it didn’t sound like Bryan even heard his words. He kept fucking the girl, slamming his dick in with each powerful thrust of his hips. Each time, his balls hit Mr. Markum’s, making a sweaty, moist slapping sound that all the other gangbangers groaned at. All except for Thumper who kneeled down to get a better look at their balls slapping together. “Man… homeboy! Bryan, homeboy, hang up for a sec,” Mr. Markum said, louder. “You keep touchin’ my balls and shit, man. That’s gross. I hate balls.” “Yeah, I’m ’bout to lose my erection. This bitch is too loose,” Bryan said. “Where’s that fluffer at?” Gerry sighed. He obviously didn’t want to keep interrupting the shoot for this, but he motioned for Rob to get in there. “Don’t take your dicks out, guys. Come on, we got a lot to shoot today.” Rob hurried into the shot and put his head between Mr. Markum’s and Bryan’s hips. It smelled like assholes and ball-hair, he thought as he licked Mr. Markum’s balls first, then Bryan’s. “Damn, he gettin’ in there! That is a fuckin’ expert move right there!” They were both deep in the girl’s body, so their cocks were not visible, and their hairy scrotums overlapped. Rob licked each ball separately at first, then opened his mouth so wide he could get all four in at once. Bryan grunted, and the sound was palpable through his balls, which made Rob moan with pleasure. Bryan said, “Damn… I ain’t think ball-lickin’ could make me get hard.” “Yeah, that’s nice, I like it when you move your tongue,” Mr. Markum said. His balls crawled up in his sac as his dick got hard inside the girl. “Okay fluffer, come on out of there, they’re hard,” Gerry said. Rob was disappointed, but he crawled away. He needn’t have been upset because he hadn’t even taken a deep breath before someone shoved a dick in his mouth. He soon saw that it was Steel Lexington, who just rammed his dick in a few times, then moved to the girl’s mouth. A few yards away, outside the current shot, Rob saw Thumper and Wesley Gripes laying on the floor, facing each other before they laid on their backs. Their thickly corded legs wrapped around each other’s bodies as they scooted so close that their dicks touched. Thumper didn’t seem to mind, but Wesley was grossed out. “Ah, damn, yo’ dick feel like a damp sponge, Thumper. This shit is nasty.” His dick immediately fell limp. Rob crawled over to slurp on his meat. Their cocks together were as thick as a fist, Rob thought, he’d be impressed if she got them both fully in her ass. But he took both dicks in his mouth just to get Wesley hard, as Thumper was still rock-hard anyway. Rob pleasured both cocktips at once, and he flicked his tongue in and out of Wesley’s pisshole. He couldn’t believe he was jerking off the Wesley Gripes! “You real nasty,” Wesley said. He curled his lip up and stuck out his tongue. The girl walked over to Wesley and Thumper. She moaned in pain when she sat on their cocks, straining to get both in her asshole. “Oh shit, she got ’em in her ass, this girl a nastiness champion.” Wesley gave some of the guys dap from his position on the ground. While she worked two dicks into her ass, Shortie Nack got his own dick serviced. He looked on at the scene, watching the girl strain to get two dicks inside her. Rob swallowed him down to the root, then did the same for Baron Hung. Their dicks tasted like pussy now. They both moved onto her mouth. She was concentrating on taking both dicks in her ass, so she didn’t really suck, just left her mouth open while they rubbed their cocks together on her lips. “Alright, bitch, you got four in you, now, two in the mouth, two in the ass. You got five more to go!” The men all laughed as they reached in to touch her tits. Enrico and Bryan were next. Enrico let Rob lick his dick for a few seconds, but he was still half-hard, so he was ready right away. He got on his knees and pushed his dick into her pussy, while Bryan Plumper bent over in front of Rob. He grunted. “Don’t fight me, bitch, take this dick, like the slut I know you is, whore.” Rob licked his asshole until Bryan was hard again. His musty ass-flesh tasted like sweat, and his dick was hard almost right away. He stayed at it until Gerry yelled at him to hurry into position. He even lifted one of his legs and shook it like a dog. So the girl had Wesley and Thumper in her ass — both of them on the floor on their backs, cocks jammed in together. Shortie and Baron flopped their limpish dicks on her face, joined soon by Mr. Markum, whose dick was half-hard. Her face was entirely concealed by the three limp cocks covering her. “You look so nasty with three dicks all on you, slut, so fuckin’ nasty. What would yo’ daddy say if he saw you right now?” Enrico was the only one who was seriously humping, shoving his dick into her pussy. Rob didn’t have much experience with vaginas, but he could tell she was loose, and Enrico was having trouble maintaining an erection. But then Bryan got into position. “Ah, get your ass out of my way,” Enrico said. Bryan had gotten in front of him and slowly lowered his thick body between Enrico and the girl. Bryan’s dick left a trail of precum on her tits. His ass was only inches from Enrico’s face, and his cheeks rubbed against Enrico’s belly as Bryan slid down to her pussy. She already had two cocks in her ass, so the positioning was awkward. Bryan’s feet were planted wide, on the far side of both Thumper’s and Wesley’s thighs. His asscheeks spread, baring his hole right on Enrico’s chest. “Ah, fuck, I lost it! Fluffer!” Enrico shouted. “There’s a goddamn asshole on my chest.” They all laughed nervously. “That asshole is wet with that sissy’s spit.” Rob jumped in. He had a feeling the director was about to say not to worry about it — he had said he knew they wouldn’t get all ten dicks inside her at once, after all — so Rob got in there before he could say no. He took Enrico’s balls in his mouth and made a loud gargling sound. Instantly Enrico’s cock perked up. Rob could feel it in his jerking ballsac. Rob moved between cock and ballsac, having no idea which one he was licking as there were so many down there he couldn’t tell. But that wasn’t all. There were still two men left. Justyn Dong, who approached Rob and put his dick in his mouth, and Steel Lexington, who stroked himself off as he waited his turn. “Yo, Gerry, how we gonna do this?” Steel said. He looked on dubiously. “Ain’t no way I’m gonna get in there.” “I know, I know,” Gerry said. “Just try. I wanna shoot you guys tryin’, y’know, jousting as you get it in there.” Rob moved from Justyn’s dick to Steel’s and back again. Steel took off his sunglasses and sighed. “I ain’t gettin’ paid enough for this,” he said. He looked to Justyn. “You want the pussy or the ass?” Justyn shrugged. “Uh. Pussy, I guess.” “Oh shit, this is one for the record books.” Steel nodded. He was rock-hard again, and he approached the girl from behind. Gerry moved the camera down to catch it as Steel mounted Thumper’s chest. Steel’s hairy ballsac even touched Thumper’s skin when Steel poked his dick at the top of the girl’s ass. “Damn, sorry, homeboy, them’s my balls on yo’ belly.” She already had two dicks in her ass, so Steel could do nothing more than jab at the crowded entrance. He quickly got limp again as his balls dragged on Thumper’s hairy belly, so Rob got in there and licked his cock from behind, while Gerry moved over to film the pussy. He had to squeeze his head to get at Steel’s balls, and Rob managed to lick them as well as at least one cock and someone else’s taint, he couldn’t even keep track of whose body was whose. And he couldn’t see the girl at all anymore. “If this bitch wasn’t already nasty, she would be now.” “Whoever’s balls I’m touching, man… wash yo’ fuckin’ balls sometime, homeboy. Feels like a soggy wetnap.” “She loose as a goose, mah homeboy. She actually got three homeboy dicks in her pussy right now?” “Really? You got yo’self in there.” “Just the tip, but still.” “Get yo’ asshole off my face, homeboy.” Justyn had to grip Enrico’s hefty body, and even held onto Bryan’s asscheeks as he jammed his dick into the confused mess down there. He actually got his dick just slightly in, though Rob didn’t think anybody could tell except for him because his head was right there. As the camera moved back and forth from her ass to her pussy and back, Rob did likewise, licking whichever dicks weren’t in the shot. “Okay, guys, fluffer, out of the way,” Gerry said. He backed up until he got them all in the shot. “Alright, folks we’re in the home-stretch, hump away. If your dick ain’t in her, that’s fine, just pretend. Nobody can tell from his distance anyway. I just need to get some shots of all ten of you at once.” “Okay this is it, I’m out, I ain’t doin’ no more gangbang shit after this. This is too fucking nasty, mah homeboy.” “I know, right? I told this homeboy… years ago when I got started, I told this homeboy you don’t know that I ain’t doin’ nothin where my dick touch another dick. He said okay, but then he made it happen like a hour later. Now here I am eight years later, man, and I can’t even feel this girl. I’m humpin’ yo’ nutsack right now.” Rob masturbated as he watched. All ten men moved, ten powerful black bodies undulating in sync with each other. The girl was virtually invisible behind them. “Ah, fuck, I got someone’s precum on my finger.” “Okay, let’s get ready for the cumshots,” Gerry said. The men were all relieved. “Finally, shit! I feel like my dick been toyed with all day!” They pulled away, leaving the girl there, looking bored. They were all limp now, except Thumper, so they lined up for attention from Rob. “Shit, I’m glad to get away from this nasty bitch.” He opened his mouth and let them plow at his throat like an assembly-line. They took turns, passing him around, and chuckling as he deep-throated every last cock. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to taste their cum, but he loved the one-after-the-other throating he got. Since their cocks had been touching each other more than her, he didn’t taste much of the girl on them either. Their sour-sweet precum flooded his mouth, and Rob let it wash over his face to at least give himself the illusion of getting the cumshots. He didn’t mind so much, as he got plenty of cock either way. Unsurprisingly, it was Thumper who came first. He ran over to the girl and shot a load over her face. She gagged a little but then left the cum there, playing with her loose pussy for the camera. “Paint that slut, homeboy!” “Here come another! Gonna turn her even whiter…” “Direct hit!” Thumper then let Rob play with his limp cock while the other guys shot their load on her. One by one, they brought their spent dicks to Rob to be licked clean. So he got to taste plenty of cum before the scene was complete. By the time the last man was done, Enrico, Rob’s throat was well-lubed, and the girl’s face was covered in cum. “Alright, that’s a wrap,” the director said. He clapped. “I wasn’t sure we’d get through this, but we did it.” He clasped Rob on the shoulder. “I should hire you for all my shoots from now on. You’re better than Wiagro. Write down your email address for me, man.”
Morgan Cartwright is a bitter man with a powerful need… one that the cute little twink Kwan Tung is eager to help out with! Can Morgan land the job?
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Morgan pulled into the house on Maple Street, lost in thought about his daughter. She was dating a man whom Morgan hated. He hoped to come up with a way to get her to dump him. Failing that, he could try to intimidate the boyfriend. He’d done that before. He was a towering, intimidating figure. He used to be outright muscular, and he was still just as strong. But he was past forty now, and he had a scruffy, hair-covered body. His dirty blond hair was in a long tangle behind his head, his arms ropy and strong but not “cut” like he had been when he was just out of high school. Back then he had a six-pack and thought it would never go away. He could eat anything he wanted to and still he had not a trace of fat. But not anymore. He had a daddy-six-pack and a dad-bod and a dad-beard — he was no longer stacked and he never would be. He wore the same ratty jeans nearly every day. He had on a red flannel shirt and a wifebeater underneath that, so he could take off the shirt if it was too hot in the house. He knew a lot of females were intimidated when he did that. But he never hurt them, and he didn’t care about making them uncomfortable. If they couldn’t handle letting a carpenter in, they shouldn’t stay home alone. He grunted and lifted up his toolbox. This was just a railing on a deck, that was all he needed to do here. It wouldn’t take long. He could already sense that this house was going to have a single housewife here, and she was going to act like Morgan got pushy about asking her out even though he didn’t. He didn’t even flirt with women anymore. If this bitch filed a complaint against him… He was already fuming about it even before he knocked on the front door. Bet she’d be pretty. Cocktease, but pretty as heckfire… Her name was Asian… Hmm-hmm… Pretty Asian lady actin’ too good fer herself… The door opened, and Morgan’s jaw dropped. He stood there, unmoving and silent, his hand still upraised and ready to knock even though the door had opened. It was a man, a very slim, feminine man with a flamboyant lilt to his voice. He had slightly dusky porcelain skin, totally smooth and unmarked. His body had an undeniably female shape, which Morgan couldn’t tear his eyes away from, but he was definitely a man. “Hi. You must be the carpenter,” said the twink, stretching his long, smooth legs. Did he even shave those? Morgan thought not, they were too perfectly clean. Morgan wanted to lick them from toe to hip. “Uh-huh.” Morgan grunted. His dick swelled in his filthy jeans. He readjusted himself as he stepped in, so he could walk normally. The homeowner — whose name was Kwan Tung — walked towards the sliding-glass door in the back of the living room, and Morgan watched his ass sway. He wore tight workout shorts which showed off his plump asscheeks. Morgan’s heart raced, and he felt redness blooming on his chest and shoulders. He wanted Kwan so bad it hurt. He didn’t know why, it was just the feminine energy maybe. He seemed warm and soft, and he probably smelled like a woman and danced like one too, Morgan could just picture Kwan up on stage at the stripclub, pulling those shorts down to reveal perfectly plump asscheeks and a tight hole. “The deck’s out here,” Kwan said. He opened the sliding-glass door and Morgan followed him out there. Kwan pointed to the wood at the base of the stairs. “So the railing totally fell off in that windstorm we had. It had been loose for awhile. I meant to do something about it, but I never got around to it. Now it fell apart. So I took off what remained of the railing, and I bought the wood down there for you to use.” “Uh-huh.” “Is that enough wood?” Kwan giggled and blushed. “I mean, I know, you can never have enough wood. Or at least I can never have enough wood.” “Uh-huh.” Morgan wasn’t even looking at the wood or the deck. He couldn’t think about carpentry right now. His eyes roamed up and down Kwan’s body, imagining what he would look like without any clothes on. He probably had a tiny dick, Morgan thought, just an overgrown clitoris… Kwan clapped his hands and jumped a little on his feet. “Ooh, did you want something to drink? I made some limeade last night, just to use up some limes. I don’t need that much sugar. You want some?” “Yeah. Cool.” Morgan grunted. His dark green eyes narrowed to slits, again watching Kwan’s ass sway as he went back into the house. Left alone, Morgan was able to think for a minute. He calmed himself. He was just horny because his wife wouldn’t put out anymore. He hadn’t fucked in six months. Actually, he realized with a fright, it had been almost a year. What was the point of being married if your bitch-ass wife never even gave you a handjob? He got out his hammer and some nails, and picked up a piece of wood. He was still frazzled, but once he got started, he thought he could focus enough to keep working. “Here you go,” Kwan’s delicate voice rang out. He placed the glass of limeade on the table on the deck. It looked cool and delicious, but Morgan didn’t go drink any yet. He didn’t want to go near Kwan and risk becoming uncontrollably aroused. Kwan smiled at him. “I’m just going to do my yoga.” Morgan assumed that meant Kwan was going inside. He started work, avoiding looking at Kwan. But when he finally lifted his head — having started cutting the wood into shape with a saw — he witnessed Kwan’s ass, cradled by those tight shorts, high in the air. He was doing his yoga routine right there in the backyard, on a bright pink mat. He wore only a light half-shirt that bared his flat belly and those short-shorts that barely covered up any of his thighs. His asscheeks were partially visible. After a few minutes, Kwan got up and squealed. “Is that my phone ringing? I hear something!” He ran into the house, brushing past Morgan, who moaned quietly at the touch of Kwan’s smooth body. Morgan found himself walking into the house even though he had no reason to. He grimaced. He didn’t know what was going to happen now. He hadn’t even put down the saw, which was still in his right hand. “Hello?” Kwan answered the phone. He scowled and put it down. “Damn telemarketers.” “Hmm-hm.” Morgan licked his lips and came closer. He put the saw down on the counter. What was he doing? He really had no idea. A part of him realized he wanted to cornhole Kwan, but much of Morgan’s mind refused to accept that. He would never cornhole a man (at least not sober and not in prison or in the Army or various other places where it was acceptable). But still, he put one of his massive paws on Kwan’s delicate shoulder and pushed down. Kwan looked at him with big wide eyes, which he batted seductively at Morgan. “Are you okay?” Morgan cringed and his voice broke. “Please…?” Kwan blushed. “Did you… need something?” Morgan’s Western twang echoed in Kwan’s ears. “Please, man… I need somethin’ impo’tant, yessuh. A man gots needs, ya feel me? Real needs. If’n they ain’t respected, you know… I ain’t down wit’ nothin’ unbiblical. But, y’know… God forgives, yessuh, I’m a believer, yes.” He pushed down harder on Kwan’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. But his dick had never been harder. Morgan knew his words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t stop babbling like a moron. “I need summfin’, I got love in my heart. I got a wife, man. You know?” Kwan still hadn’t gone to his knees, though he felt Morgan pushing him down. Kwan smiled and placed one finger on the bare part of Morgan’s chest, above the cut of his wifebeater. Morgan shuddered and moaned. Kwan smiled. “I’d never want you to cheat on your wife. Is there something I can do to… relieve your urges?” Morgan grunted. His dick twitched in his jeans. “Man, please… I ain’t… It, uh… It ain’t…” “But I think as long as you don’t mess around with a woman, you’re not really cheating on her. Don’t you think?” “Yeah. Yes. Yeah, I mean, yeah, that makes sense. Uh-huh. Yessuh, uh-huh.” He pushed down harder and came so close his steel-like dick was palpable on Kwan’s flesh through his jeans. Kwan smeared some of the sweat that had collected over Morgan’s upper chest. Morgan moaned. “Man… I ain’t-“ “Hush, you don’t need to worry about that, Morgan,” Kwan said. “You’re a man. You have manly needs. Right, Morgan?” The sound of his own name coming out of Kwan’s lips made Morgan moan again. His free hand — the one not on Kwan’s shoulder — touched the gentle curve of his waist. He looked so much like a woman. When Kwan realized Morgan was too nervous to say anything further, Kwan said, “Morgan, I’d like to jerk you off. Is that okay-?” “Yes! Oh god, yes!” Morgan pushed down on Kwan’s shoulder even harder, then added a second hand. He realized Kwan was still resisting and stopped. But he bucked his hips, virtually dry-humping Kwan’s belly and crotch. “C’mon, man, do it, do it, do it, okay? I need it. I need it. I need you, c’mon. You’re so hot. I ain’t like that.” “I’m going to get on my knees now-“ “Yes! Yeah, c’mon, hoss! Do it! I need it so bad-“ “But Morgan, relax for a minute. You need to be calm. I don’t want you acting like a caveman and face-plowing me. Can you stand still like a good boy? Let me take charge?” He patted Morgan’s meaty side, and Morgan moaned loudly. His whole face was red, cock ready to burst out of his jeans. Kwan touched his dick through his pants and Morgan buckled. He had to lean against the kitchen counter for support. “Yeah, yes, okay. Please, man? I need it so bad!” “Good boy,” Kwan said softly. “Take off your shirt.” Morgan let out a growl of frustration and ripped his wifebeater in his haste to take it off. His broad, hair-swaddled chest heaved for air as he was too excited to breathe normally. He was dizzy with desire. “Do you have muscles? I only like to jerk off men who could defend me… you know, against, like… bandits, and stuff.” Kwan giggled as Morgan frowned but flexed his arms. His hairy armpits were bared, and Kwan sucked on each nipple, while his hands caressed Morgan’s biceps and triceps. “Man… Oh god…” Morgan’s whole body undulated. His hard dick was painful now. He was sure he’d blow his wad the moment it got into Kwan’s mouth. He could already picture it. It’d feel so good rubbing over Kwan’s soft lips, spurting his seed over his face. Morgan touched those lips with his fingers without even thinking about it. His pinkie slipped into Kwan’s mouth, and again, Morgan’s knees buckled. “Hmmm… You’re so strong,” Kwan said with a flirtatious laugh. “Okay, Morgan, you can take your pants off now.” Morgan moaned. He raced to undo his belt. His jeans plopped unceremoniously to his ankles, and his dick popped out the fly of his boxers, which were soaked with precum. Kwan licked a trail from Morgan’s nipples to his belly. “C’mon, man, swallow it… I need to get my dick wet…” Finally Kwan reached Morgan’s crotch, and he hesitated for just a moment. Morgan’s whole body twitched. Kwan opened wide. He popped the tip in his mouth, and sure enough, Morgan’s orgasm began immediately. As soon as Kwan’s tongue touched his cocktip, Morgan felt the most amazing pleasure of his life. He had to lean against the counter for support, and he gasped and bit his lip with such enthusiasm blood trickled down his chin. He sucked in his breath. His whole dick was in Kwan’s throat. Nobody had ever managed to swallow his entire dick, not like this, with Kwan’s nose nuzzling Morgan’s crotch, Morgan’s cock filling up his neck and making him choke lovingly on its veiny shaft. Kwan didn’t stop. He deep-throated and slathered it with spit, suckling like he hoped to get a prize out of it, while his hands stroked Morgan’s heavy balls and his thick asscheeks. Finally a burst of creamy cum hit Kwan’s belly. Kwan didn’t let up, no matter how his lungs cried out for oxygen. He breathed the best he could through his nose and around the shaft throbbing in his throat. The taste was warm and salty, sour and sweet and potent all at once. Kwan loved the taste of cum, and burly middle-aged blue-collar redneck cum, he thought, was the best. He liked how Morgan was unadulterated — he didn’t trim his pubic hair, he didn’t wear cologne, just plain unscented deodorant, and he had corn starch in his crotch because his balls got sweaty sometimes. He didn’t shave his chest, and even his scruffy beard was only there because his wife bitched about it so much he stopped shaving to piss her off. He shot a massive load too, all built-up from months of frustration. Kwan’s eyes welled up with tears from lack of oxygen, but he refused to disappoint Morgan, so he didn’t pull off, even as more and more cum spurted into his belly. Morgan’s whole body shook as he underwent the orgasm of a lifetime. Then he took a deep breath, looked down at Kwan as though he was done — though his cock hadn’t moved, and still throbbed veinily against Kwan’s tongue — and opened his mouth to speak. “Uh-” was all he got out, however, before his voice broke and his knees gave out. “Shit…” Morgan’s red face shook as he slid to the kitchen floor. His cock slipped out of Kwan’s mouth only because Morgan lowered himself, shaking with every inch rubbing over Kwan’s cum-covered tongue. Kwan let out a sputtering moan as he chased Morgan’s limpening dick. Every time he touched it, Morgan grunted and Kwan giggled. “C’mon, lemme lick it clean,” Kwan said, and Morgan assented, though he twisted and heaved for air with every touch of Kwan’s tongue on his sensitive dick. “Hmmm… You taste so good… Your wife is a lucky woman.” Morgan scoffed. His face was ruddy and sweaty. Kwan kissed his chest and his neck, leaving his lips soft enough to avoid giving Morgan a hickey. Morgan barely noticed his kisses, not even when Kwan’s cum-streaked lips kissed Morgan on his mouth. Morgan let Kwan’s tongue enter his mouth, while Kwan caressed his muscles. Finally Kwan pulled off him. He stood, his bare ass just inches from Morgan’s face. Morgan felt another surge of horniness, tempered by the fact that he had just cum. He couldn’t help but wonder what Kwan’s ass would feel like though. It looked so tight. Was he intact? He couldn’t be, Morgan thought, no way. He certainly didn’t act like he was intact. Morgan kissed Kwan’s bare white asscheek, his scruffy beard rubbing against Kwan’s smooth skin. Kwan giggled and pushed his ass onto Morgan’s face. But Morgan stood. He blushed intensely. He couldn’t believe he had kissed a man’s ass, literally. He sniffled and sucked his teeth like a macho again, and he shook his dick until the last few drops of cum slipped onto the kitchen floor. “Alrighty then,” Morgan said with a grunt. “I guess I’ll go fix ya railing.” “Thanks,” Kwan said. He watched Morgan go back outside, and then Kwan cleaned himself up. He could tell he was going to get anal. He could have done it right then and there probably. But he wanted to give Morgan time to build up more cum in those low-hanging daddy-balls. Kwan wanted to feel a massive load exploding within him. He also wanted the railing built. That was a real job that Kwan actually needed done. So he didn’t go outside until the railing was finished. Kwan knew the effect he had on horny men, and he didn’t want to risk that Morgan would wind up plowing him all day and never finish. It’d happened before. Kwan put on a thong and a nighty that barely covered his torso and ended just below his hips. It covered up his crotch and his ass, but only just barely. He knew no men could resist him when he wore this outfit. When Morgan was finished, he came in. Morgan had told himself he wouldn’t cornhole Kwan in the ass. Getting mouth off a man was one thing, but anal? Morgan didn’t think he could bring himself to do that, not even with a very feminine twink like Kwan. Outside of prison, etc. He wasn’t a booty bandit. But he looks so good… Having not actually seen him for several hours, Morgan was able to convince himself that it wouldn’t be an issue. He had been unspeakably horny earlier because of his wife constantly blue-balling him. He wasn’t horny now, since he had gotten the orgasm of a lifetime from Kwan already. He didn’t need to bust a nut. When Morgan walked into the house though, he saw Kwan’s thong-clad ass poking out from that negligée he wore and Morgan’s whole body shook once again. That was a woman’s ass. Morgan really felt like he could look in Kwan’s crotch and find a pussy. He knew that wasn’t true — he had actually seen Kwan jacking off — but it sure felt true. Morgan could picture it. The negligée even made it look like Kwan had small perfectly formed tits, which seemed reasonable since he was small and Asian, if he were a woman, he’d probably have tits about that size and an ass just like that, and Morgan would be unable to resist trying to fuck her. The only difference between that and this was that Kwan was not female. It seemed like a minor problem to Morgan’s dick, but his mind felt it was important. Kwan was bent over by the oven, putting a load of sliced carrots in there. He had had them all arranged in a baking dish, but they slid all over each other as he placed the dish in the oven. He pushed them back into a single-layer, working quickly and gingerly because the oven was already hot. He swayed his ass back and forth in front of Morgan’s face. “Sorry, I just wanted to cook these carrots,” Kwan said. He still hadn’t turned around, so he only knew Morgan was there because he heard him. “They’ve been sitting in my refrigerator for weeks, I wanted to cook them. They were starting to get floppy.” Kwan giggled. “I know you don’t have that problem.” “Hm-hmm.” Morgan grunted. He came up behind Kwan, his jeans rubbing against Kwan’s ass. “Hey, uh, man, can I cornhole you-?” Kwan closed the oven door. He turned around and blushed. “Won’t that hurt? You have such a big dick.” “Man…” Morgan blushed. “Man, I mean… I’ll do it however you want. Man, please… I need it. I’ll cornhole you so right, man-“ “But your dick is so big,” Kwan said with a nervous, blushing giggle. He rubbed his hands over Morgan’s hairy, bare belly. “It’ll hurt real bad.” “I’ll be nice. I’ll be so gentle,” Morgan said, his voice breathless and wavering. “Will you lick it first?” “Yes!” Morgan blanched. He had never licked any ass and wasn’t sure he wanted to do it. But then he remembered how bare and smooth and perfectly clean Kwan’s ass was. He could eat that. It would be cleaner than his wife’s pussy, and he used to eat that all the time, back when he thought it might help his marriage. “Okay! But you have to be so gentle! You’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever taken,” Kwan said. That part wasn’t strictly true, but Morgan did have a big dick and Kwan knew telling him it was the biggest would ensure he was genuinely gentle. Plus it made Morgan puff up his muscles and chew on his lip swaggerously. Kwan pulled down Morgan’s pants and bared his dick again. This time, however, Kwan didn’t want to do it in the kitchen. He grabbed Morgan’s cock and led him down the hall, into the bedroom. “Take your clothes off, sweetie,” Kwan said. He handed over a tube of lube. “And put plenty of this on your cock.” Kwan kissed his nipples and massaged his back as he did. Morgan hurried to take his clothes off, then used most of the tube on his dick. Then Kwan climbed up onto the bed on all fours, lifting his ass high in the air. It was perfectly round and plump and juicy. Morgan took a deep breath — surprised to find that Kwan’s ass smelled like rose and lavender — before kissing first one cheek, then the other. Kwan wiggled his ass. Morgan’s dick throbbed. He put his tongue out, surprised to find that Kwan tasted just a bit of salt, but was otherwise mainly flavorless. He could smell a bit of that floral soap too, but the actual taste of his ass was neutral. His tongue slid into the crack of Kwan’s dick and again was surprised at how tasteless it was — just a bit salty and musky. The closer he got to Kwan’s asshole, the more Morgan realized it tasted exactly like a pussy — a clean, fragrant pussy, unlike his wife’s. By the time Morgan’s lips got to that tight hole, his hesitation had vanished. His tongue plunged right into Kwan’s asshole. Kwan cried out. There was a burst of pain too, which was a surprise — Morgan’s tongue was massive, and he shoved the whole thing into Kwan’s small ass. But that was just because Kwan was surprised at how eager Morgan was. His soft tongue soon turned that pain into pleasure as it teased Kwan’s prostate and filled his ass with moisture. “Oh god,” Kwan’s voice was high and wavering. He squirmed beneath Morgan’s scruffy head, which scratched at his ass. “Hmmm… You taste real good,” Morgan said. He returned to lapping at Kwan’s ass, alternately exploring his insides and slathering his sphincter in spit. Kwan gasped. “You’ve got the greatest tongue, sweetie. I’m nice and wide open now, you can ram me.” “Oh god, thank you, baby, thank you, I need this,” Morgan said. He had never begged a woman like this. He still didn’t quite understand how Kwan could have this kind of effect, but he couldn’t deny how he felt. He needed to get into Kwan’s ass. He spread his cheeks with both hands, eyes opened wide at the sight of that hole, which was tight and loose at once, stretched from Morgan’s tongue yet ready to clench tightly at a moment’s notice. Morgan rammed the tip in as quickly as he could. Kwan grunted and shook. A jolt of pain ran up his spine, but Morgan patted him patiently and caressed his smooth back, which minimized the agony and made it manageable. “‘S okay, baby, I’m-a make nice, sweet love to you,” Morgan said. His voice was throaty and moist. “Does it hurt?” “Just a little,” Kwan said, his voice a faint whisper. He mewled and clawed at the ground. “It’s okay though, baby, you can keep plowing.” “I won’t hurt’cha,” Morgan said. He felt an almost-uncontrollable need to plow as hard as he could, but he didn’t want to hurt Kwan. He wanted to experience every moment of this. He figured that, if he plowed gently now, Kwan would adjust to him, and then Morgan could go to town. He’d never been able to fuck a girl in the ass and have her take the whole thing enthusiastically. He could tell that Kwan would let him do that, if only Morgan could go slow enough until he was ready. So he drilled his dick in, inch by inch, stopping every time he saw Kwan shake or shudder. Morgan was so excited to bust a nut that he hadn’t taken a breath since this began. When he started to get dizzy, he forced himself to breathe as he slid another inch of dickmeat into Kwan’s ass. “Hmmm….” Kwan moaned. He reached behind himself to pour more lube onto his ass. That helped Morgan’s cock slide in, and soon, Kwan felt Morgan’s balls slap against the bottom of his ass. “Oh… Ah… Uh….” Morgan was going to say something, but the pleasure coursing through his veins was too intense to form any words. All he could do was writhe and pump, grinding his hips over Kwan’s ass. “Cornhole me, daddy,” Kwan said, cringing, his voice breaking. He sucked in his breath as Morgan began to pound. He went slowly at first, removing his dick in one long motion, and then ramming it in in a slightly swifter motion. When Kwan moaned orgasmically, Morgan plowed a little harder. Kwan’s feet lifted off the ground and he threw his head back to moan. He clawed at the air in front of him. “Oh… Oh…” Kwan’s face turned red. “Can I bite on your arm when the pressure feels too good, daddy?” He placed one thick forearm in front of his face. The pleasure in his cock was so intense he barely even noticed Kwan bite down on his muscles and suck on his arm-hair. But he could sense Kwan relaxing, his ass opening up, and Morgan rammed back and forth harder to compensate. He moaned, his baritone voice echoing in Kwan’s ear, as Morgan squirmed atop him. Somehow — Morgan hadn’t noticed this happen — he was on top of Kwan, pounding away at his ass. Kwan was tiny and couldn’t quite support Morgan’s body, but he didn’t mind, he liked the feel of Morgan’s rough-stubbled chest rubbing over his smooth back. Morgan pulled his face back and kissed him on the lips as he orgasmed suddenly, deep into Kwan’s ass. Kwan moaned and came at the same time, shooting his wad onto the floor. Kwan squirmed and gasped, kissing Morgan back but also nibbling on his lower lip when the feelings got to be too intense to take. A massive load of cum drained into him. Kwan was shocked it was so big considering he had already cum once today, but Morgan’s balls were on overtime now that he had started plowing again. It had been so long. Morgan moaned directly into Kwan’s ears, and he left a layer of sweat on Kwan’s smooth back. “Goddamn.” Morgan’s voice broke. A few more drops of cum filled Kwan’s ass. “Hmmm…” Kwan moaned and sucked on the meaty muscle of Morgan’s forearm. “Hmmm… You’re an excellent carpenter.” He giggled. Morgan ignored him. He kept on grinding his dick in Kwan’s ass, working out every last drop of cum. His balls were tightly drawn up against his body. Morgan’s whole body buckled atop Kwan’s back. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, and Morgan pulled off. His cheeks were bright red. His cock gleamed with moisture. Morgan was too shocked and a bit ashamed of himself to respond. All he could do was sit there on the floor by the bed and watch as Kwan cleaned his ass off. “Oh you poor baby, you’re so tired,” Kwan said. He kissed Morgan chastely on the lips as he wiped his cock off with some tissues. “Do you want to take a nap with me? I’ll rub your back.” Morgan was too tired to even say yes. He didn’t think he’d gotten a backrub since high school He sprawled out on Kwan’s silken sheets and let his muscles all relax at once. He was sound asleep from the moment Kwan’s delicate fingers touched his shoulders. Kwan rubbed his back for a few minutes, then curled up next to him like a cat and went to sleep. He nuzzled Morgan’s bicep. “Thanks for the railing,” Kwan said. “Maybe when you wake up, I’ll think of something else I could hire you for.” But Morgan still didn’t wake up, so Kwan just kissed him on the cheek and slept in his arms. It was the best sleep of Morgan’s life, and his nap ended up taking all night and into the next morning. He awoke to the feel of Kwan’s soft body rubbing over him, Kwan’s tongue cleaning some of the night-time sweat off his chest. Morgan sighed and smiled. He thought he might never leave here.
Avery drives the team bus when he gets a chance to share a bed with a hunky basketball jock. Trent Wyatt’s girlfriend won’t let him go near another woman, but she won’t mind him getting his needs met another way…
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
“My woman said she gonna cut my nuts off if I talk to another female,” Trent Wyatt said in a press conference. That caused a huge controversy that attracted Avery’s attention. Unlike everyone in the media, Avery was not worried because he said “nuts” nor because he used the term “my woman” nor because he used the word “female” in a dismissive manner nor because he accused his girlfriend of threatening assault. That was all silly nitpicking from Avery’s point-of-view. It seemed the media was very thin-skinned these days. Avery was interested because Trent Wyatt had specified — and repeated a few times in interviews since — that his girlfriend had warned him off other “females”. She hadn’t said anything about males. That gave Avery an idea. He managed to pull a few favors within the GHU athletic department, which got Avery a gig driving the team bus for a game between the GHU Titans and Montana State. It was far enough away that they would have to spend a night in a hotel room. Trent Wyatt was handsome like a movie star, and Avery had a plan to get a swing on his tasty basketball-jock meat. Trent was tall and lean, ropy-muscled with long legs and a sculpted face with dimples and cheekbones and all that jazz. He had only one tattoo — that was another thing that made him unusual in the American College Basketball Association — but it was a colorful doozy, a full-arm sleeve depicting the whole of US African American history, ending in the ornately decorated face of his grandmother near his wrist. There had been so many reports on that goddamn tattoo last year. Avery had gotten sick of them. He watched a lot of them because Trent Wyatt was well-sculpted, and they showed tons of shirtless pictures of him to display the tattoo — Avery was ninety-percent sure that the reason Trent tried so hard to get the media to pay attention to the tattoo was to show off his chest. And Avery had wanted him the entire time. He never even recalled what Trent said about the stuff on the tattoo because Avery was mesmerized by those dimples and those deep, dark eyes. So he was giddy when the Titans climbed onto the team bus. Avery smiled politely but didn’t say much. The players mostly ignored him. They were huge — basketball players always seemed skinny on average to Avery, because they were never barrel-chested or bulky, but when he saw them in person, he could see how heavily stacked most of them really were. Their muscles were compact, pulled taut, so tight it almost looked painful, Avery thought, Trent especially. He looked like a three-hundred pound bodybuilder crammed into a hundred-eighty-pound body. “Alright, gentlemen, I gotta read the required safety standards,” Avery said when they were all settled in. “Is anyone here a child under eighty pounds?” “Yeah, me,” said Jashwan Mitchell. “I’m only seventy-four pounds.” “Then you have to sit either in a child-seat or on my lap,” Avery said. “I choose my lap.” They all laughed at Jashwan, who laughed too, a little too aggressively, like he wanted everyone to know it could only be a joke, that he’d never actually sit on Avery’s lap. Avery went through the rest of the required safety standards, then he got behind the wheel and set off. Avery got his caffeine pills out and kept them on the dashboard to take when he got tired, and he’d avoided caffeine for the last week to be sure it had a strong effect on him. He’d be driving until midnight. He could probably drive longer, but he wasn’t allowed to, and they should arrive at the hotel but midnight. Not just any hotel either, Avery planned this trip to be sure they stopped at the hotel whose setup was conducive to his plans. Avery expected lots of rowdy behavior on the bus. They were athletes after all, and he had gone on the football team’s bus once back in high school. The guys then had been loud and rambunctious, and the bus driver had had to pull over twice to tell them to settle down. He was expecting horseplay, off-color jokes, crude gestures aimed at other drivers on the road and aggressive fight songs. But the ride didn’t turn out like that at all. Maybe basketball and football players behaved differently on bus rides. The loudest they got was a debate over keto versus paleo diets. There was some snickering that Avery was pretty sure came from ogling over pictures on someone’s phone — presumably someone’s girlfriend in a bikini — but other than that, it was very quiet. “Hey, man, is there gonna be a bar or somethin’ at this place?” Jashwan Mitchell asked when they got close to the night’s hotel. “A bar at the hotel, yeah, I think so,” Avery said. He had actually chosen this hotel precisely because it had a nice bar and because the bar’s regular patrons included a number of women of loose repute. The basketball players were sure to get laid. But he let the players discover that on their own. When they pulled in at the hotel, Avery parked and let them all out. He waited in the bus for a few minutes. The players all hurried into their rooms. Avery came out when he saw the players beginning to head out to the bar. Few of them drank, but there were women galore in the bar, and that was what they were interested in. They all had a game tomorrow, that was why nobody wanted to get drunk. Once he had parked the bus and made sure all the players were checked in, Avery went to the main desk at the hotel to get his own room key. “I’m sorry sir, there are no vacancies,” the clerk said. “Are you sure? I was told there was always a room available for the bus driver.” Avery kept arguing with the clerk as he waited for Trent Wyatt to come out of his room. Finally it happened. He was hesitant, smoothing his fine, ironed shirt and fiddling with the gold chain around his neck. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.” “So I have to sleep on the bus?!” Avery threw his hands in the air. He hoped this was coming out believable — Avery in fact knew he needed to call ahead to register a room. Avery used to be a clerk in a motel, he knew exactly how this worked. But he also knew that, if he couldn’t get a room of his own, he’d end up sharing a room and hopefully a bed with one of the players. He had exactly which player in mind. “Hey, man, you need a room?” Trent said when he saw the fracas at the front desk. Avery turned to face him and nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed to reserve a room. That’s not how most hotels around here work.” The clerk was about to correct him, but Avery walked away with Trent before he could open his mouth. Avery patted Trent on the back, which was firm like a barrel of packed sand. Trent had taken a shower, and his skin exuded warmth still, a few beads of moisture still dotting his nape. His hair remained slightly moist, glistening in the brilliant light of the hotel lobby. “That sucks, man…” Trent’s voice trailed off. There was an intense pressure in the air. It was obvious Trent felt he should invite Avery to stay in his room, but he wasn’t going to do that. Avery wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected it to happen quite like this. He just wanted to put the thought in Trent’s head. He’d let it bounce around in Trent’s mind for awhile. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just sleep in the bus, it’s comfortable enough,” Avery said. “I can rough it.” “Huh, yeah.” Trent chuckled dryly. “Thanks, sugar,” Avery said. He patted Trent on the six-packed belly. “Are you going to the bar? Don’t let those women lead you astray — you got a girlfriend at home, right? Stay with her, man. Do what she says, y’know…” “Yeah…” Trent glanced at the bar, which was crowded and filled with hollering. Word had spread that most of an ABA team was hanging out in this bar, so it had filled up with skanks and hangers-on. One of those skanks was sucking off Jashwan Mitchell right when Trent walked in and nearly walked into his friend’s cock. Avery watched. He wasn’t a voyeur, but he did enjoy seeing Jashwan’s veiny cock throb in the trashy woman’s mouth, and he enjoyed the bartender’s pained, desperate attempts to get them to stop without calling the police. It all happened too fast for the cops to get involved though. The whole blowjob took maybe three minutes, and then the slut ran off with a mouthful of basketball star cream. That was hot. Avery licked his lips. He preferred to watch men fuck than to participate, and he’d found driving sports teams really gave him opportunities to watch. Avery went out to the bus to wait. He thought he had about an eighty percent chance of getting Trent tonight. Avery had a sixth sense about that kind of thing. He spent the time looking on his phone to verify that quote — Trent had definitely specified that he wasn’t allowed to be with “females”, and Avery had definitely reminded him that he was not a female. He googled Trent on some forums he knew of, to see if there were any rumors about Trent’s sexual history. He may have gotten sucked off by a stripper in Boise, Idaho — a woman claimed as much in a basketball forum, just days before Trent started specifying to reporters that he never got frisky on the road. Avery felt sure that was what had prompted Trent’s girlfriend to make him promise to stop. The stripper had probably contacted her. That had only been six months ago. If he was really trying to be faithful now, Avery thought, he was probably desperately horny. He hadn’t been back to his house, and his girlfriend, in almost a month, after all. Avery didn’t think it was fair for women to expect their men to be faithful away from home, but Avery did enjoy it — it was one of the things that made it so easy for Avery to find the alpha males he enjoyed. Back in the hotel, Trent Wyatt hadn’t stopped thinking about Avery. He’d never messed around with a male. Back in the neighborhood Trent grew up in, it was considered acceptable, more or less, for men to mess around on the downlow. But Trent had never done so. Mainly that was for guys who couldn’t get laid by females. There was a flamboyant man in his neighborhood who would jerk off any eighteen-year-old if he wasn’t fat or addicted to drugs. Trent always had a bevy of females after him, so he would never do anything like that. He’d teased all the guys who did. He ignored it when they said that males throated dick better than any female. He didn’t believe it. But the older he got, the more he could believe it. He still hadn’t done it. Somehow sex had gotten more complicated, even though he was married and an international sex symbol. His girlfriend rarely wanted to have sex anymore, and she didn’t even suck his dick except on his birthday. That flamboyant bus driver was outside, waiting. He hadn’t explicitly said he would jack off Trent’s dick. But Trent had a feeling it would happen if he went out there. He could get sucked off by one of these chicks too, no doubt. But she would likely want his phone number, she’d tell TMZ he was an asshole, she’d brag to her gal-pals, and his girlfriend would eventually find out. Plus, perhaps most importantly, Trent thought he’d be unable to avoid looking guilty if he went back to his girlfriend after fucking with another woman. You can always bust a nut in a sissy. Feels just like a woman cuz they got the right equipment. They know how it all works. That was what some of the older guys in Trent’s neighborhood said. Trent had thought it was a joke. They didn’t really believe it, right? But now that Trent had a woman, he couldn’t help but believe it. It made sense, didn’t it? It wasn’t like Trent would ever leave his girlfriend to jack off with some white man. And he wasn’t even going to do something with Avery that he would do with his girlfriend — she rarely sucked his dick and never did anal. Trent found himself walking out there without making the decision to go through with it. But he second-guessed himself when the cool night air hit his face. He scratched his balls through his jeans and discovered his dick was so hard it hurt. The women in the bar were so easy, and Trent’s girlfriend was so far away. I gotta do something. Trent winced. He had an idea that would make it seem like less of a big deal, he thought, plus it’d make him look like a nice guy. He went out to the bus and told the bus driver he could share his room. “I’m goin’ to sleep now, but you can come with me if you want,” Trent said. “We gonna have to share the bed.” “Oh, thank you so much!” Avery said, squealing and hugging Trent’s chest. Avery could see the telltale bulge of his hardon, but he didn’t bring it up. He just followed Trent to the hotel room. “I thought my back was going to get sore from sleeping in there.” “Uh-huh.” Trent bit his lip. He remained tense in the hotel room as he took off his shirt. He liked it when anyone, even men, complimented his chest and his six-pack abs. Avery giggled at the sight. “Damn, you must work out all the time.” “Yeah. Pretty much,” Trent said. He posed. He flexed his biceps so Avery could squeeze them, and he even made his pecs bounce. He felt like a stripper. He was awkward at first, but when Avery’s infectious smile caught on, Trent smiled proudly and relaxed. “Do you normally watch TV to go to sleep?” Avery asked as they settled in. “Sometimes. My girlfriend don’t like it though.” “Well she’s not here, so let’s do something she wouldn’t let you do normally,” Avery said. He added with a knowing wink, “You might prefer to have something to look at. You can always turn it off later.” He put the remote on the nightstand on Trent’s side of the bed. It was softcore porn. Avery had put it on a video of a woman fingering herself, a pretty blonde with tits like sandcastles. Trent’s eyes were drawn to her. Avery winked at Trent, whose half-hard dick twitched in his boxers, but it didn’t seem Trent noticed. The sound was almost off, so all Trent could hear was the woman’s feminine moaning. Only when the camera moved away from that woman and her tits that Trent noticed Avery watching him. Trent bristled, his muscles all flexing, though he pretended not to notice. He’s definitely planning on tastin’ my dick… Trent gulped nervously. He couldn’t wait. His dick still throbbed mightily in his boxers. Avery crawled under the covers and patted the mattress for Trent to join him. Trent grimaced and did so. That sexy babe on TV was hard to tear his eyes away from. “Hmm… Just relax,” Avery said. “I bet that tonight, you’re going to sleep better than you have in a long time.” He whispered once Trent had settled under the covers, and Avery scooted closer to him. “Do you think so? Is there anything I can do to make you fall asleep better?” “Uh, well…” “Shush, you don’t have to say anything,” Avery said. He moved so close his breath condensed on Trent’s ear, and Avery’s hand crept over Trent’s chest. “I’ll just slip under the covers and you can put my hand and my mouth and… other parts… wherever you want them to be.” Trent sucked in his breath. His dick was hard now, that woman onscreen drawing him in. Avery’s soft fingers caressed Trent’s flat belly. His touch made Trent’s muscles ripple and his pecs bounce, and Avery felt his heartbeat quicken. It was so easy to believe those fingers belonged to that sexy woman on the TV, Trent thought, especially in the dark, under the covers. That was what her fingers would feel like, Trent was sure. He could picture it in his mind. “Ssssshhh…” Avery licked Trent’s earlobe. “You can pretend you’re asleep…”His hand slid over Trent’s six-pack to his cock, reaching into his boxers. He gripped his dick and gave it a stroke, bringing it the rest of the way to full erection. Trent moaned. “My girlfriend…” “Ssssssssh…. You’re asleep, it’s okay, your girlfriend can’t be mad at you for things your body does when it’s asleep, and anyway, you won’t remember any of this,” Avery said. “Everybody needs a little release…” “I’m not drunk, I don’t drink-“ “I know, shush…” Avery kissed him on the cheek and lowered his head beneath the covers. He sucked some of the sweat that beaded in the valley between Trent’s pecs. It was salty and warm, and it made Avery’s whole body surge with desire. At last Avery made it to that cock. He’d freeze-framed on a video of Trent playing basketball in his shorts, cock plainly outlined by the fabric. He had that pic on his phone right now. So he’d been daydreaming about this moment for a long time. He was giddy that he finally got to taste the great Trent Wyatt’s cock. It was even bigger than he had thought it’d be. He popped the tip in his mouth, making Trent’s whole body shake. His muscles flexed. Avery giggled. His soft limps caressed the rock-hard shaft, which throbbed beneath his touch. “Oh god….-” Trent cut his moan off because Avery shushed him again. His dick pulsated in Avery’s mouth, rapidly firming up even though Avery hadn’t done much with it. As Trent’s whole body undulated, Avery pushed his head up and down the shaft, deep-throating it, then pulling all the way off to take a sweat-scented breath of air, then deep-throating it again. Every time his nose hit Trent’s pubes, a moan came out of Trent. Avery murmured, “Shush, you’re asleep, remember? You can tell your girlfriend nothing happened, because you don’t remember it.” Trent did feel like sleeping. He wasn’t asleep. But this was dark, and he couldn’t see Avery at all. With his eyes closed, he didn’t even see the TV, but he heard the moist, feminine sounds of emanating from the woman on TV. The sour-salty taste of precum hit Avery’s tongue, and he slurped down every drop. Avery loved precum. He suckled on the tip of Trent’s dick, then throated him deeply until Trent gasped and cried out. Trent wrapped his hands around Avery’s scalp and held on. He pumped his hips, humping Avery’s mouth as aggressively as anyone ever had. He was on the verge of blowing his wad when Avery pulled off him. Trent let out a roar of frustration, followed by a desperate little mewling sound. His cock was ready to explode. He had never been this horny. The thought of not blowing his load right away made Avery pained. He needn’t have worried. Before he could think, Trent felt Avery climb atop his body. Avery carefully kept the covers over him the best he could — the room was dark, so it didn’t hardly matter, but he knew from personal experience that men considered that sexy. It was easy to pretend he was a woman if they couldn’t see him. Avery gripped Trent’s cock and slid down on it. He bit his lip at first, as intense, uncomfortable pressure flooded his ass. Trent’s dick stretched his tight hole, sending a few twinges of pain through his body. He kneaded the smooth, hard flesh of Trent’s muscled chest as he slid lower and rode him. At last he was all the way down. His ass squeezed around Trent’s manhood, which pulsated inside him, throbbing so Avery could feel Trent’s heartbeat throughout his body. He leaned his head down and kissed Trent’s grizzled chin — he was normally clean-shaved, but he hadn’t shaved yet on this road trip. Avery moaned into Trent’s ear. Pleasure exploded in Avery’s veins. “Goddamn, man,” Trent said. He slowly lost his inhibitions and wrapped his hands around Avery’s waist. He guided him up and down on his cock. The sheets and blankets fell off Avery’s body, but the room was dark enough that Trent still didn’t see him. Avery shivered a little in the sudden chill of the air-conditioned room. Avery’s ass clenched. He moaned, his desire to sound like a woman momentarily fading as he shot his own load into his hand. His prostate exploded in intense pleasure that rocked through his body. He leaned his head back and would have howled but he didn’t want the hotel staff to tell them keep it down, so he muffled the sound and instead undulated intensely atop Trent’s crotch. “Holy shit!” Trent didn’t worry about being loud. He was having the most potent orgasm he’d felt in a very long time. He filled Avery with his creamy seed, each gyration of his hips sending a new wave of pleasure that ratcheted his sensations up to a new level. Trent couldn’t believe good that felt. His voice broke and he caressed Avery’s chest as though he might find breasts there if he looked hard enough. His body went from smooth and clean to drenched in sweat in mere moments. Then he felt limp and fell back onto the bedspread. Still, he squirmed there as though it hurt because Avery remained on top of his dick, which still throbbed, exquisitely sensitive in Avery’s tight ass. It felt so good that Trent grunted with pain. Finally, Avery slid off him, his entire body moist and slathered in fluids. Avery let out a long moan that filled the still hotel room. The comfortable silence was interrupted moments later by a knock on the door. Trent’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he jumped out of bed. “Uh… Hello?” Trent’s eyes opened wide. “Hello?! What?!” “Uh, sir… could you… We have received a complaint, sir. Can you keep it down in there?” the clerk said, his voice wavering, especially when Trent virtually ripped the door open. He hadn’t meant to come across as angry or intimidating, but he did, especially since he was so tall, muscular and stark-naked, massive dick dangling and gleaming with moisture between his legs. A few drops of cum still clung to the tip, and Trent hoped the clerk didn’t see it. It was dark, so probably it wasn’t visible. Trent hadn’t meant to flash his cockmeat at the clerk. So he just grunted. “Uh-huh. Later.” He slammed the door shut. Well, he thought, that clerk was definitely going to post about it on the ESPN forums. At least it wasn’t obvious he was in here with a man, or so Trent hoped. He scooted back into bed besides Avery, who had cleaned up. Avery cuddled up next to Trent, who sighed and let him do so, even when he felt Avery’s dick touching his thigh. “I’m glad I’m your driver,” Avery said. He kissed Trent’s neck. “Do you want me to wake you up in the morning, sweetie?” “Hell yeah, babe. Keep ya head under the covers though, since there’ll be light in the room. And don’t make no noise if my girlfriend calls me in the morning. She prolly will.”
Avery is left in the dorm over spring break with the hunky exchange student Federico. He expected to share the building with Federico… but soon enough, they’re sharing a bed! Can Avery learn to appreciate Federico’s exotic ways?
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Earlier today, Avery had realized that the only other of his floormates to be in the building right now was Federico. At the time, Avery just sighed and shook his head — he knew that Federico would come over and annoy him sooner or later. That’s because Federico was an Italian exchange student and a star on the GHU soccer team. He came from Venice, where (he said) his father was a well-known local politician. He was a big burly foreigner with a hairy chest — like a seriously hairy chest, like he was a werewolf, so hairy the other floormates couldn’t imagine why he didn’t shave it— a loud voice and many annoying habits. Avery didn’t want to be rude, but he really did not want to spend the day with Federico. So when Avery awoke to find that Federico was in his room in the middle of the night, he was angry. Federico had been following him around. First he was trying to get Avery to lift weights with him; Federico did that every morning and acted like it was a scandal when Avery said he never lifted weights. Then Federico wanted to eat dinner with him — Federico had crackers, cured meats and a slab of some stinky cheese, which Avery steadfastly refused to eat. It stank up this entire floor of Mannheim House and probably other floors too. Lastly Federico walked to the shower stark naked and stood in Avery’s doorway talking to him in thickly accented English about the weather. His fat prick just dangled there between his legs, drawing Avery’s gaze to it. Avery gulped, trying to hide his stare. He had wondered if Federico was trying to turn him on. Federico had been walking around the dorm naked most of the semester. It was normal for him in all-male environments, or so he said. He was shocked that Americans didn’t feel the same way. Back in Italy, he said, men weren’t worried about seeing each other naked — it was normal, and only squeamish losers got worked up over it. The RA had insisted he wear clothes to and from the shower though, and Federico had grudgingly complied. But apparently Federico had interpreted that rule as applying only when the RA was actually here in Mannheim House. So now that it was the first day of spring break, he stood there in Avery’s doorway with his fat, uncut cock laying greasily against his thigh. Avery gulped. Avery was only here during spring break because he was a team manager for the PE department, and they were practicing this week. Federico was here because he was an exchange student and couldn’t afford to go home for Spring Break. “We could doing fun, we have entire floor to usselves, floormate-uh,” Federico said. Someone had jokingly called him a floormate back in September, and Federico had needed an explanation of what it meant and how to use -mate as a suffix. Federico thought it was great and had been calling everyone ‘floormate’ all semester. Federico cackled as Avery blushed, trying to ignore the bare cock beckoning Avery’s eyes. Avery had simply declined to hang out. He said he had to study, which was technically accurate even if Avery had no intention of doing so. Avery ignored Federico’s irritated expression. He felt bad about rejecting Federico, who had been struggling to make friends in America, but he turned Avery off. So when Avery woke up in the middle of the night to see that Federico had crept into his room, he was both scared and annoyed. What did Federico want with him? Light from the hall flooded the room while the door was open, but that lasted only a moment before Federico pulled it shut. Avery was groggy at first, and he didn’t fight back when Federico told him to move over. Avery made room on the bed. The smell of Federico’s exotic cologne filled the room, while under it was a note of body musk and stale sweat. Federico must have worked out this evening. The other guys on this floor — their floormates — complained that Federico always smelled like a barrel of armpits. Avery agreed with that conclusion, but he didn’t complain. He liked the smell, but he didn’t tell anyone that. Then Federico lay down in the narrow dorm bed alongside Avery, who gasped in shock at the realization that Federico was naked. His hairy body slid under the covers, pushing Avery against the wall. Federico was much bigger than Avery so he took up most of the bedspace. “Hello, good night, eh, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His smooth, silken accent was deep and booming, echoing in the dorm room and in Avery’s ears. It made Avery shudder as a torrent of emotions washed over him. He couldn’t believe Federico wanted to share a bed with him. Was this normal in Italy? “Federico, what are you doing?!” I-” Avery exclaimed, stopping only when Federico kissed him right on the lips. Every part of Avery’s mind told him to continue, to kiss Federico on the lips and make out with him all night. But a part of Avery also wanted to tell him to leave, to remind him that he was a dickhead and that Avery wanted nothing to do with him. Yet Avery didn’t do that. He stayed right where he was. For some reason as soon as he felt Federico’s broad, strapping chest muscles and his strong tongue pushing into Avery’s mouth, Avery didn’t want to fight him, nor did he want to fight against this experience. He just wanted to kiss Federico until there was no more kissing left to be had. Avery’s petite fingers grabbed at Federico’s toned chest, while their tongues interlocked in Avery’s mouth. This was all happening so fast, Avery was left reeling, dizzy and full of surging desire. There was something intense and arousing about kissing Federico on his soft lips. He was powerful and dominant, his corded muscle chest writhing atop Avery’s body. Avery’s skin wasn’t perfectly smooth, but compared to the dense layer of fur atop Federico’s chest, Avery seemed as smooth as a porcelain doll. “No girls aredhere, eh,” Federico said. He hung his head sadly. “I went for a walk, eh, none of girls, eh.” “Yeah. The campus is shut down, Federico. We’re not even really supposed to be here,” Avery said. That was true. They had to get special permission to stay here after the campus closed for the vacation. Federico couldn’t go back to Italy for just one week, and Avery had told the college he had no family to go home to (not technically true, but Avery didn’t want to go home). The GHU administration pushed him very hard to find a friend or family to stay with for the night, but Avery had refused — he paid top dollar for this dorm, and he wanted to use it. “Federico…” His hands moved of their own accord, gripping Federico’s back. He was a very hairy man, especially for someone so young, but his back was smooth and unblemished, a milky brown color, though in the dark, Avery couldn’t see anything except for Federico’s shadowy face. He had a dense beard which scratched at Avery’s scruffy face as they kissed. Avery understood now why women liked Federico so much. The other guys on this floor often joked about that — to them, Federico was weird, almost effeminate yet offensively macho, hard to understand, both a prettyboy and a stinky alpha, and he had nice hair. His hair put theirs to shame. But now, in this dorm room at night, Avery squirmed under Federico’s warm body and he let out little gasps that were swallowed up by Federico’s kisses, and Avery understood what women found alluring about him. He moved with such passion, his lips and his hands exploring Avery’s body and appreciating every inch of him, while Federico’s own body was toned and muscular, firm to the touch yet soft and pliable, exuding waves of warmth that Avery ensconced himself within. He wished the dorm room was cold, so he could cuddle up with Federico like a loyal dog. “Sssh…” Federico said. “You do not need to be embarrassed, it is okay-uh.” He reached behind himself, where he wrapped his fingers around Avery’s cock — he had to stick his hand under Avery’s boxer shorts. He gave it a stroke. Just one stroke, but somehow it was enough. It sent a little electric tingling sensation up Avery’s body. Avery was too nervous to get hard. Federico just kept stroking. It was only when Avery’s hands roamed from Federico’s rippling back to his furry chest that Avery felt a surge of energy in his cock. It got hard and jabbed straight up in the air, throbbing beneath Federico’s touch. “Good. You are a real man, eh, do not be embarrass-uh,” Federico said. He mounted Avery’s chest, the thick nest of hair around his balls and cock dragging along Avery’s smooth skin. Avery realized with a nervous, anticipatory giggle that Federico intended for Avery to swallow his cock. He stroked Avery’s dick as he brought his own cock up to Avery’s mouth. Its silhouette loomed in the dark in front of Avery’s face. “What, uh… what are you doing?” “I am to be putting my penis into your mouth,” he said, cocking his head to the side and frowning as though Avery should have known that. He aimed his rock-hard, uncut cock towards Avery’s mouth, and the tip touched his lip. That was enough to taste the musty warmth of his manhood, and Avery chased the tip with his tongue. Federico kept his dick away. “Do not be embarrass. I will not tell anyone, eh, it is low to down.” “You mean downlow?” “Yes! Downlow. Dat is correct and factual,” Federico said. He beamed like he was a detective who had just solved a case. He finally let Avery put his mouth on his cock, but just barely, Federico keep it far enough away that Avery got only a teasing taste of the tip. Federico moaned like he was in pleasure even though Avery was only barely touching him. “I am bigger, eh, so you will be a passivo on me. You have nice big mouf, and no beard to touch me in the penis or dick, eh, si, I do not like beard hair.” “Uh… are you going to get me off too?” Federico paused. “No. I am bigger-uh dan you. Bigger men do not do so in Italy. I am only to top, eh, it is your position to do it wit’ your mouf-uh. You will lick my dick now, eh, si?” Avery opened his mouth. Federico took Avery’s open mouth as an agreement and aimed his cocktip right for his wiggling tongue and his tight throat. Avery couldn’t deny that he was eager now to swallow Federico’s girthy Italian cock. He was disappointed this wasn’t going to be reciprocated though. He thought that was what “downlow” meant. Maybe not. In any case, Federico didn’t even know that word, much less abide by it. Regardless, Avery was eager to taste that cock, to swallow it as deep as he could and worship it until he tasted Federico’s creamy seed. Avery let his mouth fill with Federico’s dick. It was only half-hard, but it was very big so it felt hard right away. Then it got harder and harder as Avery choked on its massive, salty head. It tasted both good and bad, but Avery was focused on the savory flavor and the sensation of desire that erupted in him now that he was tasting cock. It tasted clean and fleshy and it pulsated like an alien creature in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled on the moisture that leaked out of the tip. That foreskin felt like so much extra flesh Avery wondered if it was normal — he hadn’t been with very many uncircumcised men before. “Yes, you are good, Aver-uh. Very good-uh. I am approving,” Federico said with a groan and a moan, his whole body rippling above Avery. As Avery licked, Federico continued to jack Avery off, reaching behind himself to do so. He didn’t stroke it so much as hold on and let Avery move his hips, so Avery humped his hand while Federico acted like he didn’t even notice what was happening behind him. Federico’s attention was aimed squarely at his crotch, where his cock disappeared down Avery’s throat. He moaned and crooned like he was trying to seduce Avery, who vacillated between finding the sounds disgusting and alarming and finding them arousing and charming. He rubbed Avery’s face with his thumb and stroked his lips, gently but firmly pushing Avery’s mouth open as wide as it could go. Then the hand jacking Avery off roamed down to his balls. Federico played with them very briefly before rubbing the taint between Avery’s balls and his ass. Avery’s flesh was very sensitive there, and the touch made Avery shudder with desire. His finger moved lower and lower, closer to Avery’s ass. “You are nice with the mouth,” Federico said. His accent was thicker now that he was aroused, and his cock pulsated in Avery’s throat. Drops of precum hit his tongue, flooding his senses with the intense saltiness and savory flavor of his manhood. Avery’s hands roamed up his chest and tweaked his nipples, which made his pecs ripple each time he did it. Then Avery’s hands moved around Federico’s chest to his back and his smooth ass, firm like a pair of overinflated soccer balls. Before Avery could do anything else, Federico’s finger pushed into his ass, pushing past Avery’s resistance, making Avery’s whole body tense up. The finger entering him sent a shiver of pain up Avery’s spine, but also a shudder of intense pleasure. He lifted his legs up — again his body acted on instinct even as his mind told him not to — and spread his own asscheeks to give Federico better access to it. Then Federico pulled his cock away from Avery’s mouth. Thick gobs of saliva connected his lips to Federico’s shaft, until Avery’s hand tentatively stroked that massive meat. He had never felt anything like it, he thought, hot and spasming beneath his fingers, precum dripping in milky rivulets down the shaft, coating his foreskin and Avery’s fingertips. Avery groaned and Federico moaned. “You are good at being girl-boy,” Federico said. “And you have nice girl-ass. It is… culo grassoccio.” For some reason when he said culo grassoccio, it made Avery grunt and blush, swooning with desire. Italian, he thought, was such a sexy language. Avery didn’t know what Federico said, but it turned him on. Avery gave up on getting Federico to reciprocate. He decided to just go with the flow. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so willing to let Federico slam him, but he was — he wanted it more than anything. Federico’s obnoxious personality had faded into the background of his mind. He wanted nothing more than to feel Federico’s cock invade his ass. “I will do putting in your ass,” Federico said softly. Though his tone was low, his words were loud and expressive, and they hung in the air, resonating in Avery’s ears. As Avery rolled over onto his belly and stuck his ass in the air, Federico pulled out a tube of lube he had snuck over, Avery recalled Federico’s stunning success with girls. He seemed to be able to seduce any woman, from mousy shy nerds to outgoing cheerleaders, he got them all. It annoyed their other floormates because, to them, Federico was an annoying weirdo who didn’t do anything right. Somehow the girls loved him for it. Federico was handsome, and American women loved Italian men. But Federico was more than just charming, he was a sexy beast who oozed charisma in his broken English. There was something special there, that was why he was good with girls. He had deep dark eyes that drilled into the soul of whoever he spoke to, and Avery found it hard to look away from him. His voice simmered like a slow soup. And now he had even seduced Avery, who blushed like a tomato as he lowered his head to the pillow. Federico gently guided Avery’s hips up in the air, so Federico could kneel on his knees while Avery’s ass lined up with with his cock. “Here I am, entering you now,” Federico whispered, his words echoing in Avery’s ear. A jolt of pain hit Avery’s backside, but it lasted only a moment before a slow, melting sense of pleasure erupted deep within him. It was so potent that it felt faint, too powerful to be palpable at first, growing slowly over time. But Avery could sense how incredible it would be. If he gave it time to blossom, he thought, it would overwhelm anything. “Va bene. Va bene, it is good,” Federico said. Avery didn’t know what that meant, but he got the impression it was supposed to be soothing. Avery’s whole body swooned in Federico’s arm as passion enveloped them both. Federico moaned into Avery’s ear, and both men rocked back and forth. Federico’s cock pulsated deep in Avery’s ass. He was surprised at how little it hurt once Federico got started. He kissed the back of Avery’s neck and rubbed his shoulders as his cock slipped in, centimeter by centimeter. The pain was still there. It didn’t go away, and it even grew. But it was increasingly overpowered by the intense, throbbing pleasure that made Avery writhe in exquisite agony. Federico pumped his hips more and more powerfully with every passing second, thrusting back and forth up Avery’s behind. Each thrust sent Avery to a new height of pleasure, and Avery couldn’t help but moan out loud. He had to remind himself he could be as loud as he wanted to be — him and Federico were the only two people on this floor, or even in all of Mannheim House. Avery let his moans of desire grow louder, turning into demands for Federico to ram harder and harder. Federico probably didn’t notice what Avery was saying, as his English seemed to get worse when he was horny. When Federico leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Avery’s chest, Avery moaned. They kissed there, and for Avery, it could have lasted a lifetime. He had never experienced a kiss like that. With his asshole stretching to accept Federico’s Italian cockmeat, Avery experienced an intense connection between them. He could feel every inch of Federico’s muscle and his powerful cock sliding into him, his bulging muscles and the clean sweat that dappled his skin now. “You have-uh de beaut-iful-uh bottom, Aver-h…” Federico murmured. The way he said Avery made Avery giggle: vrwaowbbuh. “I will make you feel such pleasure. You will explode onto my hand.” At last Federico’s hand explored downward. He tweaked each of Avery’s nipples in turn, sending little sparks of bliss through Avery’s body. Avery’s skin puckered, and he gasped when he realized where Federico was going. Federico’s hand grabbed Avery’s cock. He groaned as though touching Avery’s dick was almost enough to send him over the edge. Avery moaned for the same reason. Avery’s shaft throbbed and spasmed, leaking precum into Federico’s grip. Again Avery had no idea how long it lasted. His orgasm began from the moment Federico touched his dick. It continued forever, and Avery squirmed within Federico’s grasp. The more he wiggled, the more Federico’s cock moved inside Avery, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, and the more Federico’s breathing sped up as he experienced his own intense orgasmic pleasure. Avery thought that was it. He didn’t think he could take any more; he didn’t think it was possible to feel more or experience any more intensity shaking his body. But Federico, it seemed, had other plans. Federico could take Avery to the next level. And as he began pounding hard onto Avery’s ass, that was exactly what happened. The sensation was so intense that Avery screamed, in shock and pain and bliss and desire and pure, unadulterated lust. He screamed because there was no one on this floor to hear him anyway, so why not? His muscles turned to jelly. They were weak and insubstantial compared to Federico’s body anyway. Avery just submitted. He would have collapsed onto the mattress but Federico kept him in position, bent over a pillow with his ass in the air. The prostate orgasm was so intense that Avery couldn’t even feel Federico’s hand on his cock. He was numb all over, and the only feelings he experienced were the muscle-clenching power of his climax. “Ah, si…” Federico’s moan made the hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stand up. Cum sprayed into the pillow and mattress beneath him, as Avery came first. He bucked his hips, slamming his ass backwards deep onto Federico’s cock as his thick cumwad hit Federico’s fingers. That didn’t slow Federico down at all, and he cooed like he loved the feeling of semen dripping through his fingers. As though he had been waiting for Avery to bust first — which was, in fact, precisely what he had done — Federico began pounding harder and faster now that Avery was done. He drew his dick up all the way out of Avery’s ass, then slammed his rod back in all at once. After just a few more of those power-strokes, Federico began his own orgasm. Avery’s head was still groggy and dazed, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the feeling of white-hot cum spreading within him. It was warm and creamy and it seeped into every corner of Avery’s body. It was an impossibly big load. Avery didn’t know a human male could shoot something so big, so much milky cum that it spread in gobs within him. It dripped down Avery’s thighs and clung to his fine blond hairs, while plastering Federico’s coarser black hairs to his skin. “You are prestante…” Then at last it was done. Federico slowly let his cock plop out of Avery’s ass, and when he did, Avery sighed loudly. He had never experienced an orgasm like that. The feeling of his asshole emptying was like scratching a painful itch that Avery didn’t even know he had had. He collapsed into a moist, sweaty heap on the mattress. He was too tired to do anything but submit as Federico gently caressed his back muscles. Federico kissed him on the spine, his lips traveling down to Avery’s ass. He just kissed each asscheek one time. “Tank you, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His velvety voice purred and made Avery desire him all over again. But Federico just sunk onto the mattress. He wrapped his powerful body around Avery’s. He massaged Avery’s smooth skin and kissed him on the neck. His thick, luxuriant beard scratched at Avery’s face. “You are very nice-uh,” Federico said. “I was enjoying to be jacking… off… Uh… I am apologizing-uh. I do not remember my English words right now, eh.” “That’s okay,” Avery said softly. He hadn’t spoken since this started, and now he blushed. He buried his face in Federico’s biceps, blushing as though he wanted to hide even though they were alone in Avery’s dorm room (and alone on this floor, in this building and on this campus as well). Avery licked the clean sweat that stuck to Federico’s muscle. “I am glad about no girl here tonight,” Federico said. He whispered directly in Avery’s ear, making him shudder as aftershocks of orgasm ran through Avery’s body. “You have nice butt, and your dick was feeling good in my hand, uh. Maybe we will do it again after you come back from spring break, eh, yes?” “Yes,” Avery blurted out. “We will. We’ll do this again next semester, I’ll find you. Whenever. We’ll find a way. We’ll figure it out. We’re together a lot, so it can’t be that hard. We’re floormates, after all.” “Indeed. We will find, eh, each odduh,” he said.
Avery is after a studly baseball coach for a kids’s team, and he just might land his man! Once the game is done, Avery’s favorite dad-coach Gordon is in need of a little release and some affection, which Avery is eager to provide!
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Avery was at the baseball game at Dirkfield Park, but not to watch the baseball, or the kids, or even the parents in the bleachers. The strongest dad was always the team coach, Avery had learned that a long time ago. The pattern held true today too. He was Gordon, mid-forties, rustic, bearded, thick-bodied and flat-bellied but not skinny, he bulged all over, like his body didn’t realize how muscular he was. He was good with kids. Judging from the callused fingers and the scuffed workboots in place of athletic shoes, he was some kind of blue-collar worker, but Avery didn’t know what he actually did for a living. The impatience was clear on Gordon’s face. The third-graders were not capable of playing baseball to any significant degree. Not a single real hit had been had all night. Gordon shouted encouragement when they got close, and he futzed with the pitch-machine every few minutes, growing increasingly exasperated with it. He seemed to hold out hope that they would play some real baseball at some point, but that hope was eternally dashed. “Okay, Jakey, run! Jakey, take your base! Jakey, we’re counting that as a hit! You have to run! Jakey! Jakey! Jakey!” “Austin! You can’t sit down in the outfield, bud! Stand up!” “Watch the game! Where is right-field, bud?” “Throw it to second-base! J’waun! Second-base! That’s not second-base! J’waun! J’waun! You have to pay attention — J’waun, I’m sorry, I’m not yelling at you. Just… It’s hard to get your attention sometimes. Please watch the game… No, don’t throw the ball to me!” Gordon hung his head and took a deep breath. “Okay, J’waun. That was a good throw. But it also matters that you throw it to the right place.” “No, I’ve told you a million times, no phones in the outfield! You’re supposed to be watching the game! Playing! You’re supposed to be playing the game! Watch for the ball! You might have to catch it!” “Fox! Fox! Fox! Fox! The ball, Fox! Look at the ball! Fox! Don’t close your eyes! Fox!” It didn’t help that it was a hot, humid night. It didn’t even cool down once the sun set. Even in the darkness, the humidity was like a swollen woolen blanket that filled the air and refused to let any heat dissipate. Avery handed Gordon a bottle of water from the vending machine between innings. Gordon took a long swig from it, some of the water slipping out onto his scruffy cheeks. “Thanks, man,” Gordon said with a nod. His voice was croaky and crass, hoarse like he chain-smoked, or used to. There was a southern twinge to his voice, though Avery didn’t think he was from the south. He sighed. “Good game, boys, you’re doin’ great.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “You’re doin’ real great.” Avery thought Gordon was great, the way he milled about dumpily in his ill-fitting clothes (which occasionally bared a flash of his hairy belly or well-muscled back), his uncaring swagger and focus on the game, the work-built muscles — you could tell he didn’t go to a gym, at least not regularly enough to matter, but he must have worked his muscles all day every day. The one thing that annoyed him was that Gordon’s wife was there in the bleachers too. She was a shrill harridan with dark hair and thin lips. She looked drunk too, Avery could tell. She sipped from a thermos in a way that seemed more suggestive of wine than water. Avery thought it was adorable how good he was with the kids. He was patient and supportive and he always remained positive even when the kids made error after error after error. He kept that wan, well-practiced smile on his face no matter what. “Okay, Fox, that was… Remember throwing? We practiced throwing. You can’t run the ball back to first, you have to throw it. Remember your hands! Remember your hands! Remember your HANDS! Good hustle, J’waun!” It wasn’t until the next inning switch that the wife went to Gordon with a look of fury on her face. She ignored her own son, and she murmured intensely with Gordon. Gordon looked hurt, his square jaw quivering. She wagged her finger at him. Avery felt instinctively protective of Gordon. He wanted to help. But Gordon didn’t say anything at all, at least not that Avery could tell. This was a one-sided argument. “Well, fuck you, Gordon! I don’t need you, and I don’t need this shit!” she shouted. The kids and parents all stopped talking. Everyone looked over there as Gordon blushed. His wife was drunkenly bold though, and seemed uncaring of being the center of attention. The parents looked away, but not the kids, who were halfway on the field and halfway off it. Gordon said something softly. “Oh go fuck yourself! I’ll make a scene! I’ll make a real big scene! I’m a drunk, everybody! I’m a drunken hag, and I’ve ruined Gordon’s life! He woulda been a contendah!” She cackled. “You’re shit! You know that? You’re a big pile of hairy redneck shit, and you can’t blame me for that.” “At least he’s not a drunk moron shouting profanity at a little league game!” Avery said. He stood up and went to Gordon’s side. “Ma’am, I thought it was inappropriate when you tried to score coke off me earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene. Since we’re past that point now-“ “Wha-?” She cocked her head to the side as though ransacking her memory. (That hadn’t happened, she hadn’t tried to score coke. Avery just wanted to change the terms of the debate. The other parents all clucked their tongue and looked at her with cross eyes.) “If you want to go snort coke, go do that but don’t corrupt the rest of our children,” Avery said as the crowd of parents murmured their approval. “They don’t need to see you off your mind on Peruvian marching powder.” Avery had to suppress a giggle. Nobody here, he guessed, knew anything about cocaine or that ‘Peruvian marching powder’ was not real slang for it. They all nodded and furrowed their brows at her. A few people hollered at her to leave. She blushed and looked around as though trying to remember if she had actually tried to buy cocaine off Avery. It seemed she couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had done so and then forgotten. Avery guessed she probably used coke — she looked like the type — and he was glad to have guessed correctly. Avery smiled, clutching Gordon’s side and feeling the coarse hairs on his belly through his shirt. “I really think you should go so the kids can enjoy the rest of their game without you bringing down the tone,” Avery said. There was a long, awkward pause. Finally she belched. “Whatever.” She looked at Gordon and scoffed. Then she tottered away. She had only just gotten off the field when she turned around. “Martin, sweetie! Call Mommy when the game is over!” Their boy, Martin, blushed and looked away like he might be able to pretend she wasn’t his mom (he wasn’t even standing in the direction she waved; she was too drunk to actually find him in the crowd of children). Gordon took a deep breath. “Thanks, uh…” He paused. “No problem,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.” He addressed the silent bleachers. “Okay, play ball. And someone call the cops to report a drunk woman leaving the park.” He looked at Gordon. “What does she drive?” “Blue hatchback with Delaware tags.” “Oh a Delaware bitch? Never marry a Delaware bitch, Gordon. That’s Rule One,” Avery said softly. He laughed and clutched Gordon’s bicep. “She’s remarkably stable and nice for a Delaware bitch.” Gordon snorted. “Where were you eight years ago?” He clapped his hands and looked back at the players. “Okay, play ball!” He said it in a much more masculine and authoritative way than Avery had, so the kids erupted in activity right away. After that, Gordon’s team, the Lammerdale Lions, was at-bat, so Gordon had less to do. One of his assistant coaches hung out by the pitcher’s mound to remind the children how to hold the bat, while Gordon stayed in the dugout with the other kids. That gave Avery plenty of opportunity to sneak peeks at his ass. “Are you okay?” Avery asked. It was blatant how the other parents kept sneaking judgmental glances at Gordon, as though it was his fault his soon-to-be ex-wife was a drunken bitch. Gordon shrugged. “She always been a bitch, hoss. Don’t worry.” He paused and cleared his throat. Avery smiled. “The game is almost over. If you send your kid home with someone else, you could stay and clean up with me.” “Why can’t my kid be there for that?” Avery shrugged. “You never know what else we might do. I could help you forget about your ex-wife. I have a couple tricks that are very effective at that…” He licked his lips, loudly and moistly smacking them. Gordon turned to face him and his eyes opened wide. “I ain’t down with that.” “Oh. Okay.” Avery was disappointed, but he hadn’t given up. A lot of guys said no right away. That didn’t mean the answer would be no forever. It just meant they needed to prove to themselves that they weren’t too eager. Plus, he thought, it was easy to say no when it was just a theoretical option. When Avery was actually on his knees ready to swallow, Gordon might reconsider. There was still five and a half innings left (though the game would be called two hours after it began no matter what, so it really only had about twenty minutes). That was enough time for Gordon to change his mind. “Yeah, good hit, Jakey! You got deep on that one!” Gordon shouted when one of the players actually hit the ball. It wasn’t even a foul, it was the first real, actual hit of the night. Jakey waddled straight for the bleachers to tell his parents. “No, Jakey! Run to first! Jakey! Jakey! Stay on the field! We practiced this!” But Jakey ignored Gordon and tried to get his parents to congratulate him, even as the entirety of the crowd shouted for him to run for first. Everyone wanted to see an actual baseball play occur. Jakey got tagged out before he made it to first-base, which was impressive because the first baseman failed to catch the ball and then spent two whole minutes struggling to pick it up with his mitt. So all in all, that play took more than five minutes from when Jakey picked up the bat to when he finally made it back into the dugout. Five minutes for nothing to happen, one-quarter of the remaining game-time. Baseball, Avery thought, was interminably boring. If it didn’t exist and somebody invented it, everyone would say “that’s not a real sport, it’s statistically indistinguishable from doing nothing”. Avery really did not like baseball. But he had to watch a couple games as part of his idiotic P.E. class — he couldn’t graduate without it. Not that he really wanted to graduate anyway. He entertained himself by watching Gordon’s ass in his tight baseball pants. They were wrinkled and unironed, a light gray with a green stain on the left ass. Avery drooled at the sight of his plump ass, and was he aiming it towards Avery? As he leaned over the dugout wall, it kind of looked like he was. Gordon loved baseball. Unlike Avery, he not only thought it was a good sport, he considered it exciting. He spent hours at the batting cages nearly every weekend; he watched every Orioles game and nearly every other major league game; he even watched the Japanese, Mexican and minor-league teams (he had favorite teams in every league). He owned all the gear and could recite all the stats for his favorite players. He knew every World Series victory, the points and the plays — he could give you the play by play of every World Series game, and he could name every player and their vital stats too. So he did get very frustrated watching the children play, dropping the ball over and over, failing repeatedly to swing the bat and generally just making more errors than Gordon had ever thought possible. But on those rare occasions when a kid did do it well, when it all worked — when his boy had caught the ball and dived for second-base to successfully tag a runner out — it seemed like a magical sport. Gordon thought less of anyone who considered baseball boring. It was the most elegant sport in the world. When it worked, it was like ballet, he thought, not that he’d ever say that out loud. It was hard to remember its elegance when the children were literally tripping over each other in their haste to run away from the ball. Gordon also found it distracting right now because this sissy was visibly checking him out. But he soon realized no one was looking at him — the parents mostly just watched their own kids. People generally assumed Avery was Gordon’s weird little brother. They didn’t notice Avery staring at Gordon’s deliciously unkempt ass, thigh muscles fairly bursting from those tight baseball pants. Eventually the inning was over, and Gordon went back out to be first-base coach. Avery had to sit by himself and wait. He was bored and didn’t have a very good eyeline of Gordon’s ass anymore. He did have a bulge in his crotch too, Avery could see that, but it stopped being exciting after a minute or two (a minute or two of absolutely, totally nothing happening whatsoever — Avery didn’t see why sports needed to have times when nothing happened. That was so boring it made the technically exciting parts of the game more boring by contagion). But before Avery found a place to sit where he could see the game — and Gordon’s ass — easily, it was called. The two-hour mark was reached. In the end, no one could remember if the score was 9-2 Lions or 7-4 Pirates. So the Lions told their kids they won, and the Pirates told their kids they won, and everyone was happy. When the dust had settled and the kids were all gone, it was just Avery sitting there in the dugout, while Gordon collected the bats and balls scattered around the field. Gordon had sent his boy home with a friend. Avery picked up some of the empty soda bottles left behind in the bleachers. He tossed them in the recycling bin. Then he came up behind Gordon and whistled at his bent-over ass. “Damn… If your ass was a Chinese restaurant, I’d have the pu-pu platter.” Gordon stood and blushed. “I ain’t into that.” “I know. But I bet you could use a nut,” Avery said. “Come on… I’ll pay for all your team’s pizza parties.” “What?” “You guys have a pizza party after every game, right? Why not let me pay for it?” Avery said. Gordon’s eyes opened wide. “You serious?” He came into the dugout. “Man…” He hesitated, then came closer, to where Avery sat on a bench. He didn’t say anything, but he got close enough for Avery to touch his dick through his baseball pants. Gordon closed his eyes. “You ever done this before?” Gordon scoffed like that was ridiculous. His dick twitched in his pants. Avery pulled them down, revealing an overstuffed jockstrap with pubic hair bristling out of it. Gordon closed his eyes. “Not sober.” “Hmmm… What’s that mean? You do it drunk?” “Don’t talk so much, man,” Gordon said. “If you’re gonna do it, do it.” “You get drunk and do it a lot, huh?” Avery grinned. He lowered Gordon’s jockstrap, revealing a thick, meaty dick. It was already beginning to get hard, making Avery think Gordon must be exceptionally horny. “No!” Gordon rolled his eyes. He flopped his cock over Avery’s face. When he had first hooked up with the woman he later married — that bitch who made a big drunken mess of herself in front of everyone — she used to suck his dick all the time. Gordon loved it. He acted it out now out of habit — he gripped Avery’s head and drilled his dick in until Avery gagged. Gordon blushed. He didn’t know why he loved it so much when she used to gag on his dick. That sound just made him so horny. So when it was clear that Avery wasn’t going to complain about that, Gordon smirked and slipped his cock in deeper and deeper. Sure enough, Avery’s moist sputtering and choking was clearly enthusiastic in a way his wife had never been. She did it because she wanted to land a man, and she thought that was what Gordon required. But Avery wanted to do it. He did it because he loved the feel of a man’s cock sliding down his throat, despite Avery’s instinctual urge to choke on it. Avery actually loved the feeling of his throat constricting around a man’s cock, and he loved the wave of pleasure he could see run up Gordon’s barrel-shaped chest. Slobbering all over it, Avery murmured and cooed. He made a big mess with all the sticky precum coming out of the tip of Gordon’s cock. “Hmmm… You taste so good… Your wife is a dumbass for leaving you…” “Yeah she is.” Gordon’s scruffy beard hairs quivered. “Is the divorce final yet?” “Nah. She’s just livin’ with her sister,” Gordon said. “Quit talkin’ so much, man. Or if you gotta talk, sound like a girl.” Avery used his high-pitched feminine voice, acting as flamboyant as possible. “Hmmm… How’s this? I wish I had titties so you could lick ’em clean… or whatever boys do with boobs, I don’t know. Can I suck on a finger, Ralphie-poo? I wanna taste every part of you.” Gordon grunted and groaned. No one had talked to him like that in a long time. His wife used to some, but even more than her, an old girlfriend did it; she used to talk dirty, beg him to let her suck his cock, request that he not shower so she could taste his unadulterated flavor. It felt like no one would ever talk to Gordon like that anymore. Somehow being a blue-collar redneck had gone from stud to ugly tubby lardass even though his appearance hadn’t changed that much — women just interpreted it differently now that he was older and still had a blue-collar career and his thick body didn’t have that almost-six-pack he’d always had. He’d gained about fifteen pounds on his high school body, but it seemed like so much more. He let Avery suck on his middle-finger, which was dusty and warm, while his dick jabbed Avery in the face. Every time it touched his skin, Gordon gasped and turned a little redder. He couldn’t believe how horny he was. And Avery just teased him. Avery chased his dick with his tongue, giggling when he got a good taste and it twitched, and just that tiny moment of tongue-to-cock contact made Gordon’s whole hefty body shake. “Hmmm… Will you let me lick your balls? Please….” Avery asked as though that was a debate — no one ever said no. He smiled as Gordon plopped his hairy sac onto Avery’s tongue. “Goddamn…” Gordon moaned. He was already on the verge of orgasm, so it was nice to get his balls licked for a moment. That felt good but it also delayed his cock, so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. He figured if he looked like he enjoyed this too much, Avery would keep following him around and begging for more. “Lemme hit that ass,” Gordon said. He blushed. He hadn’t meant to request that, he just thought it and his mind was too horny to censor himself. His cock throbbed though, and all he could think about was pounding it into some tight hole. He wished he had let Avery beg — he might have been able to get some more money out of it. Gordon grunted. He leaned forward and slapped Avery’s smooth ass. “Hmmm… Will your dick hurt? Will you be gentle with me?” “No.” Gordon grunted, his country-boy accent getting more intense as he lost his inhibitions. He was actually from Boston, but the longer he worked as a small-town plumber, the more of a country accent he acquired. He touched Avery’s ass again. It was so plump and round, like a woman’s but not like his wife’s, like a different, better woman, not even like his wife had been when she was younger. Gordon slammed his dick in. He hadn’t intended to take his shirt off. But once he felt that tight ass clenching around his cock, Gordon saw that his shirt was just going to get in the way. Gordon didn’t want to do anything that made this less intense. “Ah, shit, man…” So he dropped his shirt on the dusty ground and plowed in deeper. His wife had given up the ass a couple times before they got married, but never once afterwards. His belly jiggled and he sighed. For the last couple years — for most of their marriage — she had never fucked him without complaining. She complained when he didn’t initiate it. She complained when he did. She complained when he hadn’t showered. She made him shower and brush his teeth and shave before fucking (shave both his chin, his chest and his crotch). She made him lick her pussy, which she never once shaved after their marriage. She made him do extra chores. He used to do them and then initiate sex, but she’d just add additional chores at the last minute, no matter what, so he stopped doing any work until she put it on a list before sex. He didn’t put forth a lick of effort unless he got some sex out of it. But jacking off was so easy now; it didn’t take any effort. He didn’t need to do anything but focus on ramming his dick all the way into Avery’s ass. He didn’t make Gordon stop to brush his teeth again; he didn’t answer emails on his phone, he didn’t complain to his sister that Gordon’s balls were “too wrinkly”. He just bent over and took it. Gordon sighed grandly. “Damn, man, you feel good, shit…” He bit his lip as an orgasm exploded within him, not even noticing that Avery was already shooting his own wad onto the ground. “Sorry, almost done,” Gordon said, his voice breaking and strained as he came. He didn’t even get why Avery squirmed, orgasming beneath him. He was shocked because his wife had never responded like that. Avery felt so good he screamed into the night air. Hot cum flowed into Avery’s ass. The feeling was melty and warm, and it was sticky, coating his flesh with creamy goodness. Avery let out a long, low howl that echoed in the stone dugout. It had been a long time since Gordon blew a nut. He jacked off often enough, but that didn’t keep his balls from exploding now with years of pent-up cum. Even when he and his wife had had awkward, tense sex before she moved out, it had been so difficult it never really felt right, like he got blueballs even though he did fuck her. But now, this time, it made Gordon’s whole body tense and shake. Sweat trickled down his broad back and into the crack of his hairy ass. “Shit…” Gordon let his cock slowly flop out. He sighed and leaned back against the cold stone wall of the dugout. “That was awesome.” Avery smiled. “I know. You do that real good.” He stood up, hands still exploring Gordon’s bare chest. “Lemme know when you’re ready for me to pay for a pizza party.” “Okay. You ain’t gonna give me the money now?” Avery giggled as he put his clothes back on. “If I gave you the money now, how would I incentivize you to come see me again?” He walked away. “Just gimme a call. I’ll come over and make you forget about her any time you want.” He paused. “Anytime I don’t have class.” He paused again. “No, anytime. I don’t care about class.” Gordon looked down at his dick, gleaming with remnants of Avery’s ass. “Cool,” he said. “I’ll definitely call you.” He paused. “Wait, I mean… We got an afternoon game next Sunday. I’ll, uh…” He realized he probably sounded desperate and nasty, but he didn’t care. He needed to do this again. Avery’s ass was mesmerizing until he got his pants up and Gordon could finally look away. “I’ll call you then.”