Twink on Top – Page 2 – Mansploitation

Workers in the Dark

Eagle and Tekaronhonte are high-rise construction workers in New York, but they’re not from the city, they’re Mohawk Indians, and Eagle is still new. He’s not comfortable with urban living or the heights he scales every day, until one night he finds solace and comfort in Tekaronhonte’s arms.

Can Eagle That Soars find a way to flourish so far from home?

Read it now as an ebook! Or read the whole thing here!

New York City was a scary place. On his first day in the city, Eagle That Soars Mailloux had seen more people than he had ever seen before. A sea of cars flowed over the roads, and tpeople on the sidewalks thronged like a human river. Even the battlefields of Europe hadn’t been so crowded.
The rise and fall of Tekaronhonte’s breath was relaxing for Eagle. He didn’t know Tekaronhonte until recently, but they were both Mohawk Indians, so Eagle felt a certain kinship for the older man and tribemate. Tekaronhonte had been in the city for more than twelve years. Eagle couldn’t imagine living in a place like this for twelve years. He’d go crazy if he had to live here even half that long.
But then, he couldn’t imagine fighting a war in Europe, and he had done precisely that. Eagle had gone home to the reservation after Germany surrendered, but there was nothing for him there. There were no jobs, and the only excitement was the nightly brawl in the bar parking lot. The young people had left for the Army when the war broke out, and few came back. Some died in Germany or Japan, others found a wife or work or who-knows-what-else, something not found in the Mohawk village Eagle was from.
A construction company was recruiting. Eagle signed up because — like signing up for the Army before the draft board came calling — that was what young Mohawk men did. He was, or would become no matter what, a fearless warrior and a fearless worker. He would not be good enough for a wife if he did not have a job.
Yet Eagle had never felt fearless. He thought he might be able to look brave when he made it through boot camp with ease. But his first day in battle in Europe, he threw up in his own helmet and nearly shot his foot off. He hoped that, by the time he came to New York and signed up to work in high-rise construction, the fear would have been blasted out of him. Maybe he had left his fear on the bloody grassy fields of France.
He sure wished he left it there.
But he was scared after all. The other Indians on the project literally danced on the steel beams that connected like solid clouds as they labored together the framework of a skyscraper. They were fearless. They showed no emotions, no trace of awareness that they could plummet to their doom at any moment.
Eagle barely got any work done his first day. It was all he could do to keep from vomiting. It took all his concentration not to look down, because when he did the world reeled and he had to clutch whatever was nearby lest his sudden dizziness make him fall.
He was proud that he at least hadn’t vomited. He wouldn’t have told anyone that, because the other Indians would have called him a weakling for being afraid at all.
Maybe, he thought, the war did make him braver after all. In the war, he did throw up. Now he didn’t. That was something, but it wasn’t bravery.
And after two weeks working, Eagle managed to feel a modicum of comfort up there on the steel girders. He had had to sit down only once today, when he was overcome with terror and dizziness. It had happened maybe fifteen times on his first day. So that was an improvement.
It happens to a lot of us. Not me. I was a natural up here.
I never panicked. I am like a cat in a tree. But a lot of workers are afraid when they are new.
Their words were not that reassuring. The only reason the Mohawks were hired was because of their lack of fear, and none of the old-timers admitted they had been afraid when they were new. So Eagle still felt like an outsider who might never fit in. Maybe the reason the old-timers denied being afraid was that the weakest among them quit (or fell), so only the bravest remained in New York.
Tekaronhonte’s hand touched Eagle’s chest, which brought Eagle out of his reverie. Eagle drew in his breath and rolled over to see Tekaronhonte’s face staring at him in the dark. He put one finger to his lips.
“Ssssh,” Tekaronhonte said, his voice an achingly low thrumming murmur.
The apartment was chock-full of Indians. It was a four-bedroom apartment with sixteen men living in it. There were three people in each bedroom and four scattered among the hallway and the living room. Eagle and Tekaronhonte took the living room. The couch was too short for either Eagle or Tekaronhonte, both of whom were tall, so they slept on the floor. Tekaronhonte was by the window, but Eagle didn’t want to see outside — this was a ninth floor apartment, plenty high enough to reawaken Eagle’s fear. Nothing in any Mohawk village was nine floors high, and this building went up twice that far. The building Eagle was putting up was going to be twice that even, which blew Eagle’s mind.
It was Tekaronhonte who slipped over to Eagle’s bedspread and slid under the thin sheet he used, his worn older body rubbing up against Eagle’s thinner frame. The hard wood floor underneath was unyielding and cold. Sometimes Eagle could hear the Spanish-inflected arguments of the Cuban couple who lived underneath this apartment.
Eagle raised his eyebrows. “What… What are you doing?”
“There are no women here,” Tekaronhonte whispered as though that explained it. Then he leaned his head down and kissed Eagle on the lips.
Eagle instantly felt two equal reactions. A part of him wanted to push Tekaronhonte away and go sleep in the hall with Benjamin and Delisle.
But another part of Eagle’s mind wanted to kiss him back. He wanted to shove his tongue into Tekaronhonte’s mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of Tekaronhonte’s bronze body and feel himself getting lost in Tekaronhonte’s broad muscles.
So he compromised by not doing anything at all. He laid there and let it happen as Tekaronhonte kissed him on the lips. Their tongues collided in Eagle’s mouth. Tekaronhonte rolled over to lay atop Eagle, showering him with kisses as his hands explored Eagle’s smooth chest.
“You are a pretty boy,” Tekaronhonte said when he came up for air. “You do soar, like your namesake. Majestic.”
Eagle smiled and blushed. “Why did you kiss me?” Eagle asked. His hands wrapped around Tekaronhonte’s back as though to hug him close, but he was already so close his chest muscles pressed down on Eagle’s smoothness.
“It is the secret.”
“What?”
“It is the secret to doing well in construction. Once you have been touched by an older man, you will not be so scared of being on a high-rise,” Tekaronhonte said. “I will give you of my bravery.” His face was flat and grim, shadowy in the unlit living room.
Eagle couldn’t tell if he was joking or not or whether he was saying this just to get Eagle to submit. It did seem like the kind of thing Tekaronhonte might say as a joke — he had told Eagle to get a “left-handed smoke-shifter” on his first day, then laughed as though it was the funniest thing in the world when Eagle failed to find it. That prank was actually the only time Eagle had seen Tekaronhonte laugh since he came to the city. So it wasn’t unreasonable to think he was making up stories again to tease Eagle.
But regardless, Eagle didn’t want to refuse. He hadn’t had sex since Europe and even that was with a French prostitute whom Eagle could only afford because she had never screwed an Indian and gave him a discount. She had said he was “cute like a puppy”, which he took as an insult at the time. He had been too frightened to pleasure himself as well, and he was overcome by horniness every time he saw a woman in the city. They were so pretty here… So glamorous.
“You are handsome like an eagle, and I want to pretend you are a woman,” Tekaronhonte whispered into Eagle’s ear. “I do not normally do this. I do not do it anywhere but here. In this apartment, there are no women, so we take care of each other.”
“You mean everyone does this?”
Tekaronhonte nodded. “Do not tell anyone. It is against the white man’s rules, and we do not speak of it-” He pecked Eagle on the cheek.
“So what do I do?” Eagle asked. He inhaled of Tekaronhonte’s musk, and his kisses traveled down Tekaronhonte’s neck to his powerful chest.
“You may pleasure me,” Tekaronhonte said. He bristled. “I will not do the same to you. I am older, stronger, better at work. I will not do it.”
“That, uh, doesn’t seem fair,” Eagle said.
“Then say no.” Tekaronhonte paused and flared his nostrils. When Eagle didn’t say no, he kissed him again. He ran his hands through the long silken hair that ringed Eagle’s head.
Eagle’s mind whirred as he thought of ways to tell Tekaronhonte that he only wanted to do this if Tekaronhonte reciprocated, but Eagle knew that was a hollow threat. It had been so long since anyone touched him intimately — and even longer since anyone had touched it without being paid — that he realized only as Tekaronhonte reached into his shorts how much he wanted this to happen.
Now that he was listening for it, Eagle thought he might have heard two men doing something similar in one of the bedrooms as well. There was some moist kissing and suckling sounds. In the dark apartment, he saw hands reaching under blankets, tented fabric deliberately shaped to conceal erections, he heard the thump-thump of vigorous masturbation, and he smelled the cottony-sour scent of precum.
They were all getting off. Had they been doing that all this time, since Eagle had moved in here? Maybe. Eagle was so focused on his own experiences he hadn’t noticed, and he had been so tired he fell asleep right away. He awoke later than the others. Perhaps he had missed it.
Eagle was glad that he shared a living room with Tekaronhonte, who was in good shape and healthy. He was tall, broad-shouldered, smooth-skinned, and he had his hair pulled back into a long ponytail. He had a square, jutting jaw and a face lined with just a few wrinkles that came from his age — he was nearly forty.
But right now all Eagle could feel was his awe-striking muscles. Tekaronhonte had been a construction worker for a long time, so his body had grown as thick and as solid as the steel he worked with every day. He looked like he was skinny by nature, and his muscles barely fit within his frame.
In comparison, Eagle was lean and wiry. He was strong, but he was not anywhere’s near as big as Tekaronhonte. He was dwarfed by the bigger man’s powerful arms.
As Tekaronhonte pulled away from Eagle’s mouth, he pulled down his underwear. A big, half-hard cock flopped out. All Eagle could see in the darkness was a thick silhouette, which made his mouth water. He was glad that he was in the dark so no one — not even Tekaronhonte — could see that Eagle was eager to taste it.
Then Tekaronhonte pushed his cocktip into Eagle’s mouth. It was a little sour, very salty and had a faintly sweet aftertaste that made Eagle want more and more. He opened his mouth as wide as it would go so he could swallow every inch of that throbbing meat.
Tekaronhonte groaned but muffled the sound. It seemed that the men in the bedroom had finished whatever they were doing, so the only sound Eagle heard now was Tekaronhonte’s arousal and the heavy breathing of Benjamin, who was asleep in the hall near (the much quieter and slimmer) Delisle. Eagle was glad now that he wasn’t with Benjamin, who might also want to blow a nut off but he was fat and mean, so Eagle wouldn’t have wanted to do it.
He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Tekaronhonte until this started, but now Eagle couldn’t imagine making love to anyone else. He loved the feeling of Tekaronhonte’s massive cock plowing into his throat over and over.
Eagle gagged out of instinct as his throat cried out for a break and for air, but he didn’t want to stop. He loved how Tekaronhonte’s cock throbbed and pulsated, leaking precum down Eagle’s throat and coating his lips and chin with it. Eagle could feel the pleasure emanating throughout Tekaronhonte’s body; he could sense it as though it was his own pleasure, in the tensing of Tekaronhonte’s muscles and the dappling of sweat that appeared on his chest and shoulders.
Finally Tekaronhonte pulled out of Eagle’s mouth, cock flopped over his face and leaving a layer of moist flavor there. Eagle wasn’t sure what was about to happen — or rather, he did know what Tekaronhonte was going to want next, but Eagle was too nervous to think about it.
“Sssh… Do not worry,” Tekaronhonte whispered as though he had read Eagle’s mind. “When it happens in New York City, it does not count.”
“Yes, Tekaronhonte. Please do it.”
“Do not be ashamed. You are just showing respect. You are being respectful. It is appropriate,” Tekaronhonte said. He kissed Eagle on the back of the neck.
Eagle was on his belly now on the floor. He quivered and his whole body tightened just from the fear of what was about to happen — he knew he was going to do it, he wanted to see how it felt and he accepted Tekaronhonte’s promise that it wouldn’t count here in New York.
But in the Army, Eagle had been taught that the most humiliating thing a man can do is accept another man’s penis in his ass. But Mohawks did not see it the same way, and Eagle wanted it in this moment more than he had ever wanted to have sex with a woman. Tekaronhonte’s cock would feel so good in his ass.
That was why Eagle firmly wanted to try it now, despite remaining nervous about what it would be like. He had to admit he enjoyed the feel of Tekaronhonte’s strapping chest muscles rubbing against Eagle’s back as they both got in position. Tekaronhonte was hard and firm, and his cock was likewise, poking like a battering ram at Eagle’s buttcheeks and thighs.
“Lift your butt,” Tekaronhonte said softly, his hand caressed Tekaronhonte’s ass. Tekaronhonte placed a couch cushion underneath Eagle’s belly, then bent Eagle over it, raising his ass up. “I have bear grease.”
Eagle didn’t know why that mattered. No one in New York even used bear grease. Back in the village, bear grease was used mainly in making soap, though bears were scarce in that area nowadays. The gamy smell of it filled Eagle’s nostrils and reminded him of home.
But he figured out the reason for Tekaronhonte using it moments later, when a bolt of pain ran up his spine. Tekaronhonte’s cock squeezed into his ass painfully.
The agony soon diminished, however, as the bear grease did its work. It made Eagle’s entire ass, and Tekaronhonte’s crotch, so slippery Eagle thought he couldn’t have sat down now if he wanted to, he would have just slid right over the floor like a hockey puck. A potent sensation erupted in his ass.
He bit his lip and gasped. The pain was mostly gone, but there was still an intense, not entirely comfortable pressure. He oomphed and his face turned red.
A twinge of pain did hit him then, not too much but enough to make Eagle clench his teeth and suck in his breath. His whole body undulated beneath Tekaronhonte’s heft, his muscles flexing as he gently forced his cock up Eagle’s asshole.
Just when Eagle was about to tell Tekaronhonte to stop, his body relaxed some, and a wave of pleasure flowed through him. Tekaronhonte’s cock sank the rest of the way in, and Eagle felt Tekaronhonte’s balls slap on Eagle’s smooth ass. There was a sensitive spot deep in his behind, and, when Tekaronhonte’s cock touched it, Eagle felt a twang of desire ring out within him.
He lifted his head and gasped. He had to force himself to breathe as the mind-melting pressure and the overwhelming pleasure combined to make his entire mind and body shut down. His lungs clawed for air even though nothing prevented him from breathing — he was just experiencing so much that he didn’t have any real control over his body now.
He went limp, which turned out to be the key to make this feel as good as possible, for both himself and for Tekaronhonte. His limbs were like jelly, his muscles soft, in stark contrast to Tekaronhonte’s stony, hairless body. It felt like a smooth and warm statue slamming onto Eagle’s back and ass over and over again, like Tekaronhonte was made out of granite and Eagle himself was made of nothing more substantial than bear grease.
The bear grease splashed and slipped all over Eagle’s body. He could taste it and smell it now, since it had clung to Tekaronhonte’s hands as his fingers roamed over Eagle’s flesh. He could taste its astringent bitterness, the thick, billowy aroma that was so intense it felt physical, like Eagle could grab clouds of the scent. It smelled like bear-meat and smoke and a little like lipstick, Eagle thought — it reminded him of that French prostitute. She had been so beautiful, but Eagle was glad she wasn’t here; he was glad he hadn’t hired a whore in New York; he was glad to be rammed by Tekaronhonte instead.
At some point, Eagle’s cock had gotten so hard it felt like it was going to burst, and each thrust of Tekaronhonte’s manhood inside him only brought Eagle closer and closer to orgasm. He cried out for more, only for Tekaronhonte to shush him.
When Eagle felt Tekaronhonte’s imminent climax, he was glad. He enjoyed the feeling of giant cockmeat sliding into him, and he loved how it stimulated every inch of his insides, but Eagle was ready to be done. He still hoped he wasn’t seen by the others — no matter how normal and acceptable it was here and even if their roommates did the same thing, Eagle wanted to be able to deny it had happened.
But then Tekaronhonte grunted like he did not approve of something, as his hand stretched around Eagle’s delicate body. He caressed Eagle’s chest muscles — which were basically nonexistent compared to Tekaronhonte’s powerful pecs — and then lowered his hand to Eagle’s cock.
“I will give you pleasure,” Tekaronhonte said as though it was a rare and special gift, which, Eagle supposed, it probably was.
Almost immediately, Eagle could feel his orgasm rising. It grew a little more potent with each downstroke of Tekaronhonte’s hand, when it was all the way at the base of Eagle’s cock. Shivers of desire flowed through Eagle’s body.
It felt like he was being penetrated by all of Tekaronhonte’s muscles; Eagle could feel each muscle fiber flexing and stretching atop his back, intertwining with his limbs. Eagle felt so good he gasped and couldn’t muffle the sound in time — he hoped no one else in the apartment was awake.
His toes curled and his fingers tightened into claws that grabbed at the floor beneath him. His face was bright red, his back covered in both his own sweat and Tekaronhonte’s, which clung to Eagle’s skin. He didn’t get why people acted like this was bad, it certainly didn’t feel bad, Eagle thought. He went with the flow, moving in sync with Tekaronhonte’s cock. He enjoyed the sensation, and he wanted to make it last.
“I am going to fill you up now, boy,” Tekaronhonte said. His deep voice boomed in Eagle’s ear. In addition to hearing his promise, Eagle could feel Tekaronhonte’s words through his chest muscles throbbing against Eagle’s back.
Then it came. An orgasm overwhelmed them both at once. Eagle threw his head back and bit his lip to avoid screaming out his climax. The most intense pleasure of his life rocketed up and down his spine. He writhed, the sensation so good it felt bad, but then became so bad it felt good all over again. Eagle’s eyes bugged out.
Cum sprayed within him, great big wads of hot juice that coated Eagle’s insides. He felt its creaminess sinking into his flesh, spreading to every inch of his body. He sighed, and Tekaronhonte did so at the same time, like they were harmonizing together.
Eagle’s own load was big too — bigger than he thought he had ever shot before, though it was dark so he couldn’t quite tell. Tekaronhonte kept stroking his cock even as it became more and more sensitive, and every motion of Tekaronhonte’s hand on his shaft made Eagle writhe beneath Tekaronhonte’s body.
He had no idea how long it lasted. It felt like eons. Eagle was aware of nothing but Tekaronhonte’s slowly limpening cock in his ass, sending aftershocks of orgasmic bliss through Eagle’s body.
Then he pulled out, and the real world came rushing back to Eagle. Eagle’s sigh turned from an expression of intense excitement to incredible relief. His ass was briefly in pain again, but then Eagle relaxed.
He sank back into Tekaronhonte’s arms. The living room was cramped, so it was more comfortable to move closer to Tekaronhonte than to try to sleep by himself like he had done his first week here. He rested his head between Tekaronhonte’s bicep and his chest.
There, Eagle tasted his smooth, clean flesh and the fresh salty sweat that collected there. He inhaled of Tekaronhonte’s steely aroma. His delicate fingers rested on Tekaronhonte’s flat belly and bulging chest.
“Thank you, Tekaronhonte. I hope that was respectful enough for you.” Eagle shivered and looked around, realizing only now that the apartment was filled with writhing construction workers.
“It was. You are a very good boy. Very good respect,” Tekaronhonte said. “You will be a good construction worker. You will find that tomorrow, there is no fear in you. You are a real man.”
“That made me a real man?”
“The most enjoyable summer comes only on those warm days in the middle of winter,” Tekaronhonte said. He kissed Eagle on the cheek. “Do not tell anyone back on the reservation. It is… different there than it is here.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Sleep now. You will have to stretch in the morning, or your bottom will hurt very bad all day,” he said. “Now that you have shown respect, you will be expected to do a full day’s worth of men’s work on the tower tomorrow. Do not worry. You will be stronger, braver now.”
“Oh… I don’t feel braver.”
“When you are scared from now on, you can think of me,” Tekaronhonte said. “Now go to sleep.”
Eagle sighed and fell silent. He didn’t think that would work. He remembered the terror he felt every time he looked down. Tekaronhonte wasn’t going to make that fear go away.
But somehow, Eagle realized, that was exactly what happened. The next day, when Eagle thought of his fear and recalled his moments of terror on that tower, he had been overcome with panic again. He wanted to flee downstairs to the safety of the ground. Now though, he felt that Tekaronhonte would catch him if he fell. He could see the ground beneath him and the cars like bugs crawling along the crowded streets, and there was no fear in him.
Tekaronhonte was right. It worked. Eagle had no fear in the morning. He danced along those steel girders just like Tekaronhonte did.
And that night once again, Eagle smiled and nuzzled closer to Tekaronhonte, whose warm muscles rose and fell in sleep once more. Eagle kissed the side of his chest.
“Thank you, Tekaronhonte. I’m glad we’re roommates.”

The Cholo Bottoms

Anthony got it bad in prison, and he never thought his fortunes would be turned upside-down! That’s cuz the bad-ass cholo who hurt him is gonna hafta turn around and bend over, so that tiny twink Anthony gets to climb on top!

Read it now as an ebook! Or read the whole thing below!

When Anthony got out of the prison infirmary, he struggled to walk at all. The doctors had sewn up his cuts and got his bruising to go down, but he was still in intense pain with every step he took. That’s because he got cornholed, and it felt like his ass tore in half, like wet tissue paper, like he was being torn up all over again each time he stepped forward. The stairs were especially difficult to make it down.
Much to his surprise, the guards were kind. Officer Bignose in particular allowed him to walk back to his cell as slowly as he needed. Usually he pushed guys along, practically dragging anyone who didn’t hurry.
Anthony’s ramrod was named Franco, but he went by Sucio — a Spanish word that means “filthy or vulgar” and implies sexual perversion as well. He was tall, heavily tattooed from forehead to feet, broad-shouldered and meaty, strong as an ox. He had cornholed Anthony harder and harder until Anthony begged him to stop. He made Anthony lick the prison toilet seat; he stuck his assjuice-stained dick in Anthony’s mouth, and he pissed on his face. It was a tortuous experience.
Anthony certainly didn’t intend to wag his ass at any more cholos. He had thought he’d be able to get on Sucio’s good side by seducing him, but he didn’t know Sucio’s intense desire to remain uno hombre. His authoritarian manhood demanded he take charge of uno pasivo like Anthony.
But he was safe now. Anthony shared a cell with an elderly man, and he didn’t plan on leaving the cell any more than he had to. Sucio was sent to solitary confinement as punishment for the attack, so Anthony didn’t see him for a long time.
When he finally did return to the cell block on the same day Anthony did, Sucio made a kissy face as he walked by in chains, and the sight of that reawakened the lingering pain in Anthony’s ass. Shame flooded him, and he blushed as he looked down at his feet. Everybody knew Anthony was small and weak in comparison to Sucio, but he was still embarrassed for that to be made obvious. Officer Bignose led Sucio through the cell block. When they saw the kissy face, Bignose pulled on the manacle connected to Sucio’s legs, tripping him. He fell in a big bronze lump on the floor.
Sucio’s dingy white prison shorts and wifebeater were filthy with his sweat and raunch from his time cooped up in solitary. Anthony felt a surge of sexual desire, followed by shame. Anthony wished he could have serviced him in a consensual way. On the outside, he’d have said he wanted Sucio to ravage him. But it didn’t go how he had pictured it in his head. Anthony guessed that Sucio would never allow it — Sucio wouldn’t want to do it so Anthony enjoyed it. He was always going to do it harder than his victim wanted. His machismo demanded it.
“Come on out here,” Officer Bignose said, poking his head into the cell Anthony shared with the old man. Anthony had backed away from the door, not wanting Sucio to see him. Fear surged all over again as he wondered if Bignose’s kindness had only been a front for his true aim: retorturing Anthony by setting up another ramrodding. When Anthony didn’t respond right away, Bignose barked his order again, “Inmate Delunez, get the fuck out here right now!”
Anthony trembled but nodded and crept out of the cell. The cell block was having a Sunday afternoon indoors today, since it was raining outside. That meant dozens of men milled about, almost all of them vatos and cholos — Cell S99 was reserved for inmates associated with the Latin Kings. Anthony had only a glancing connection with them, which was why he had been turned out as Sucio’s bitch.
Bignose held a hand up, palm out, which made the cell block stop whispering. They all glared at Bignose. Anthony shivered with fear — was Bignose going to cornhole him now as well?
Outside of prison, Anthony hadn’t been a thug at all. He had only pledged himself to the Latin Kings because he was going in for a year and needed protection, and luckily his brother was a well-respected vato who could vouch for him. Of course, that hadn’t ended up mattering for very much.
“Listen up, you shitheaps. A lot of you are aware of what happened awhile ago. Inmate Delunez here was treated… poorly, to say the least-” Bignose was interrupted by a chorus of cheers and jeers from the assembled cholos, who yelled insults at Anthony. He blushed, especially when Sucio — standing nearby in chains — sneered at him. Someone pinched Anthony’s ass. Bignose whistled and demanded silence; everyone ignored him until he brought out the taser and brandished it. “Shut the fuck up! There’s a prison policy here we ain’t always followed. That’s because the victims are usually as bad as the perpetrators, but it’s a rule we got a right to enforce.”
“Fuck yo’ rules, esé!” Sucio said. He pumped his hips as though literally fucking Bignose’s rules. His dick-bulge shook in his prison shorts, and he rolled his tongue beneath his lips.
Bignose smiled at Sucio. He nodded to the other guards around him, and one of them jumped into action. Before Anthony could process the sudden turn of events, Sucio had a mouthguard placed on his face. Sucio roared and pulled away, but there were four guards on him, and they kept him in place, even forcing him to his knees. His complaints vanished into a wordless burst of syllables.
The mouthguard was a plain piece of plastic with wire forceps-like edges and a strap binding it to the face. It was made for prison dentists who couldn’t otherwise safely put their hands near the inmates’s mouths. Sucio tried to spit but with his jaw stuck pried apart, all he could do was sputter and writhe in the muscular guards’s arms.
“The rule that we’re going to enforce from now on,” Officer Bignose said with a cruel smile, “is that prison tops get bottomed.”
Total silence filled the room. Then there was a torrent of shouting, angry Spanish and vituperative English — a few of them were in support of the policy, it seemed, but many were against it, and some just wanted to watch the world burn. A few of the inmates rushed towards Bignose as though going to fight him, but Bignose flipped his taser on and they backed off when the sound of electricity crackling hit the air.
Silence once again fell over the cell block.
“Now, not all you alpha cholos are gonna get it up the ass. I ain’t got no interest in that,” Bignose said. “But if yer bitch complains, then I’m gonna let him treat you the same way you got treated. That’s how we gonna decide what’s consensual or not. If your bitch is upset enough to file a complaint, he’s gonna get to climb on top of yer stupid ass. Inmate Delunez here is gonna be first.” He smiled at Anthony, and extended his arm like a fancy butler unveiling an expensive dish.
It all happened so fast that Anthony only realized what was happening right now, as he stepped towards Sucio. The inmates mostly quieted down. None of them really loved Sucio, after all. Bignose had no doubt started off with what seemed like terrible news in order to be sure they’d be supportive and happy when he backed up into a less atrocious rule.
Anthony blushed as he took his dick out. He had been showering with these men, and occasionally jerking them off, for more than a month before Sucio attacked him, so this wasn’t the first time they had seen his dick. But he was still self-conscious knowing that they were looking at him now, and no doubt comparing his dick to theirs — when he was just another prison punk, they avoided looking at his manhood; his ass and his mouth were his only body parts that mattered.
But now his rather thick dick was the center of attention. Anthony had never felt smaller, despite the grande size of his meat. Sucio roared as he tried to pull away, but the guards kept him on his knees. His chest and shoulders were soaked with sweat, which made his wifebeater stick to his flesh. His muscles strained the fabric.
¡Destrozar el culo! ¡Que sea sangrienta!
Anthony chuckled as he flopped his limp dick onto Sucio’s face, his heart racing — this felt so dangerous, even if it wasn’t. Sucio’s face was heavily tattooed, seven tears dripping from his eyes (which meant he had murdered seven people, and the fact that one of the tears was colored red meant that one of those seven was either a cop or a snitch).
¡Su garganta es su culo!
Sucio flinched and writhed. He breathed heavily, drool dripping past his lips. It was obvious he was trying to say something but couldn’t with his mouth pried open. All he could do was champ up moutfuls of saliva.
“You ever tasted cock before, bitch?” Anthony asked, simply because the silence made this all more intense, and he felt a need to do something to break the tension. The pain in his ass was gone now, and he smiled as the cholos filling the cell block burst into laughter and applause. Sucio was a powerful gangbanger, and though they were all nominally allied with him, no one liked him — now that he was a bitch, they’d treat him like one, which meant everyone here could move up a rung in the Latin Kings hierarchy.
Fuck ‘is throat, Anthony. Make him choke! ¡Hacer que se ahogue!
Anthony pushed his dick into Sucio’s big, wide mouth. His moist tongue shook as though trying to find a place to hide, but Anthony just pushed his dick all the way in to the root in one smooth motion — Sucio was big enough to swallow a lot of meat. Sucio retched and gagged, a big ball of spit dripping down his chin and onto his wifebeater.
“Keep your eyes open, puta!” Anthony said. He pounded on his thin twinky chest. This was exactly how Sucio had treated him, so he enjoyed returning the favor. “Bitches should look in they owners’ eyes. I wanna see yo’ stupid bitch face suffocating on my cock, esé.”
He rammed his dick in all the way, even lifting one leg to hump his face like a dog. The mouthguard on Sucio’s face pinched at his jaw whenever he tried to open it, so his mouth was open as wide as it would go — every time he stretched it a little wider, the mouthguard didn’t allow it to go back without pinching into his gums.
Anthony rubbed the Gothic lettering tattooed on Sucio’s forehead — Latin Kings por vida, it read. He spat right onto that tattoo, and when he saw that Sucio shook and gagged, he did it again. He spat on Sucio’s nose and hocked up a big loogie, which he plopped into Sucio’s mouth.
This felt so good that Anthony would have gladly kept going until he came. But he felt his orgasm coming and he knew Officer Bignose wouldn’t hold Sucio down again, at least not unless Sucio cornholed him again. So Anthony decided to go after him in the ass while he could.
After all, he wasn’t gonna get more chances to ramrod a muscle-bound alpha like Sucio.
There were now five guards holding Sucio down. One was on each limb (which were also manacled), and one kept him in a bear hug from behind. That one behind Sucio winced like he was disgusted when Anthony pulled out of Sucio’s mouth — he was awfully close to the action, getting splashed. Anthony blushed, still unused to being the center of attention.
The guard with Sucio in a bear hug leaned onto his back, forcing Sucio onto his back as well, his big body resting on the guard’s chest. He squirmed but with his chained arms and legs held by the other quartet of guards, there was little Sucio could do.
Officer Bignose pulled on the chains of Sucio’s legs and attached them to the wall nearby. That forced Sucio’s legs up. Anthony pulled those dingy prison-issued boxers up, revealing a thick and meaty ass coated in kinky black hairs and amateur tattoos. His cheeks quivered and tensed — he was clenching his ass.
Not that that was gonna stop Anthony.
When Anthony saw that cock again, he knew he was going to stroke Sucio off — both because he genuinely wanted to, and because he knew he could get Sucio hard in front of the entire cell block. Nothing would be more humiliating than treating Sucio like a bitch and making him like it, in front of every cholo in this joint.
There was a Salvadoran flag tattooed right on Sucio’s dick, its blue and white stripes waving in unseen wind. Anthony gave it a stroke while just resting his dick at the entrance to Sucio’s ass.
“You want this real bad, donchu?” Anthony asked, then repeated it loud enough that he could be heard over the hoots and hollers of the other inmates.
¡Si, él realmente quiere!
Sucio’s body roiled and writhed. He struggled against the guards holding him down, but there was nothing he could do, especially on his back with his legs in the air — he was like a turtle stuck on its back.
“You ever took it in the ass before?” Anthony asked. Sucio shook his head and heaved out some indecipherable syllables, but Anthony couldn’t understand him. He cupped one hand behind his ear as though asking Sucio to speak up. The inmates behind him all roared their approval of Sucio’s humiliation. Anthony smiled and said, in an overly loud voice, “Oh, you loved getting rammed by sumisos?! Well, I got exactly what you want! Don’t worry, I’ll ram you again whenever you want. You just let me know.”
He rammed one finger in Sucio’s ass, keeping his dick right there so Sucio could feel it. His other hand remained on Sucio’s cockshaft, lightly stroking it — it was just a bit hard right now, no doubt more from anxiety than actual arousal.
Sucio arched his back and clenched his ass when Anthony’s pinkie entered him. Anthony laughed and smacked him on the asscheek, over and over until Sucio let go of his clenching for just a second, long enough that Anthony could ram his pinkie all the way in.
The sweat drenched Sucio’s body now, soaking those guards who held him down. They looked like they regretted agreeing to this — they probably enjoyed the idea of holding a giant cholo like Sucio down while he got cornholed — Sucio had been insulting and threatening them for years, after all — but now realized that the actuality of it was more difficult and less satisfying than they had predicted beforehand. His sweaty muscles and coarse black hairs rubbed all over their bodies, especially the burly redneck guard who held onto Sucio’s bare back.
“Gonna get that ass to open up one way or another…” Anthony shouted over the din — that was another thing Sucio had said over and over while cornholing Anthony hard. Anthony did it the same way Sucio had, by strangling him.
His thin, delicate fingers gripped Sucio by the neck and squeezed, just hard enough to make him heave and writhe. It was a sudden enough surprise that his ass unclenched when Anthony let go a moment later, and Anthony rammed his ring finger in alongside his pinkie. Sucio breathlessly gasped, his tongue writhing in his mouth as he tried to shout.
Anthony had been so focused on watching Sucio’s agony that he hadn’t really taken a moment to savor the fingering. With two fingers now in Sucio’s virgin ass, he wiggled them. He loved that tight moistness and he especially enjoyed how Sucio’s dick pulsated in his hands now that Anthony was on his prostate.
“Muy apretado…” Anthony said with a slow smile. The other inmates rushed forward to either join in or clap Anthony on the back, but Officer Bignose waved them away.
He rammed his fingers in and out, each thrust making Sucio contort. His muscles were pulling the guards this way and that as they held him down — they couldn’t quite keep him from moving, but they could keep him from getting up. His chains rattled loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd of inmates.
Then Anthony pulled out. He pushed his dick in before Sucio’s ass had time to clench again, but Anthony didn’t want to go too fast. He just put the tip of his dick in and held on as Sucio flexed all over. Motionless, Anthony bit back his burgeoning climax, so he could drag this out.
Pain rattled up and down Sucio’s body; Anthony could see it in the undulating tension in his muscles, which tightened and loosened in waves from his trunk-like thighs to his broad muscles. Those muscles clenched his ass as though to grip Anthony’s cock.
“Taste some ass, puta!” Anthony shouted, too aroused to think of anything wittier to say. He wished he could — Sucio had thought of lots of (relatively) clever insults and threats to shout as he had fucked Anthony, but Anthony couldn’t think of a single one right now. He just laughed as he pushed his ass-slickened fingers into Sucio’s mouth.
Sucio sputtered and gagged as soon as he tasted his own ass. He spat the best he could with an open mouth, but Anthony just wiped his fingers off on Sucio’s tongue, groaning as he slid a few more inches of his manhood into Sucio’s behind.
“You feel it in you, bitch?” Anthony asked. “Huh? You feel my dick in you?”
Sucio shook his head, throwing his neck back and forth. He wasn’t really saying no, probably didn’t even hear Anthony’s question, but Anthony decided to take it as a no.
“Oh, okay, I’ll ram you harder then, so you can feel it!” Anthony said. He smiled as the cholos behind him screamed their approval.
Make ‘im bleed, Anthony! Wreck his ass!
Anthony pistoned his hips, slamming his dick the rest of the way in. He pushed his cock all the way to the root, which made Sucio arch his back. He gasped and choked on the fingers Anthony still kept in his mouth.
Then Anthony remained still for a moment, working on Sucio’s dick. It was rock-hard, but he gathered that Sucio wasn’t even aware; he was in too much pain to notice his erection. Anthony used both hands on the meaty, uncut shaft, then cupped his low-hanging balls. He gathered up all the sweat from Sucio’s own crotch and then wiped it over Sucio’s tongue, which stuck out of his mouth like a panting dog.
He wanted to really humiliate Sucio by making him cum with a dick all the way up his guts. So he stimulated Sucio’s prostate while stroking off his manhood.
The tension was so great that it was actually quite easy — Sucio was too distracted to fight against it, so his body’s instinctual arousal was enough to send him right over the line. His orgasm was painful, bringing tears to his eyes as his asshole clenched around Anthony’s rampaging dick.
Cum sprayed over Sucio’s chest and belly. He blushed a bright red as the other inmates, his fellow gangmates, all roared their shocked approval. Some of the cum missed Sucio’s body and landed on the face of the guard holding onto his right arm, who flinched but didn’t pull away even as the semen dripped down his lips.
Anthony pumped his biceps over Sucio’s body. He knew he looked ridiculous, since he was acting like he had overpowered Sucio when he was actually about a third Sucio’s size. But it felt good to be victorious — Anthony hadn’t felt like a real man since even before Sucio plowed him.
Gathering that the guards were losing patience and weren’t going to hold Sucio down for much longer, Anthony decided to finish up. He had been on the verge of orgasm pretty much since this began, so he focused his energy on going hard. His hands sopped up all that cum and wiped it off on Sucio’s tongue, making Sucio retch, writhe and clench down on Anthony’s dick.
The pain must have been excruciating; Anthony knew well that getting plowed with a clenched asshole was excruciating, and Anthony wasn’t even using lube besides Sucio’s own spit, so it was no doubt tortuous. He rammed his dick back and forth, cackling with laughter as Sucio heaved for breath, gagging on his own cum which he couldn’t wipe away. Anthony made sure that what semen that did leak out his mouth got smeared all over his tattooed face.
When his orgasm finally hit, Anthony pulled out — a part of him wanted to cum inside Sucio’s guts, which would have been humiliating for him, turning his culo into a panocha. But it would have been invisible to all the men watching.
So he pulled out instead. Sucio breathed a deep sigh until he saw that Anthony aimed for his face. He gagged again even before Anthony had made it to his head, a potent orgasm rocketing through Anthony’s body. His dick was more slimy than he had ever seen it — Sucio’s ass had really reacted to the hardcore fucking, excreting copious fluids that clung to his cockshaft.
He managed to get his dick in Sucio’s mouth just moments before he came. Sucio wretched and writhed, and spat up a big ball of bile that just leaked out over his face. Anthony groaned as the orgasm finally hit him. His little lithe body writhed, ass clenching and fingers gripping Sucio’s face tightly.
Anthony had never seen someone retch so badly. He shot a huge load right into Sucio’s gullet, but Sucio just spat it right back up. Cum dripped from his lips and coated his face, alongside that slimy assjuice that Anthony brought back from Sucio’s hole. His face was shiny with fluids, eyes scrunched up and flashing bright.
A long, loud sigh escaped from Anthony’s lips as he finally fell limp. His knees buckled, the orgasm so intense he could barely support himself. He used Sucio’s meaty belly for support, and he tweaked Sucio’s nipples.
Finally the guards — disgusted by all the fluids that had leaked to every inch of Sucio’s body — slipped away. Sucio dropped to the ground and landed with a thud. He writhed and rolled over, groaning as he tried to get to his feet. He winced in pain every time he moved, just like Anthony had when he had been led away from the infirmary.
Officer Bignose grabbed the chain attached to Sucio’s neck and pulled until Sucio could do nothing more than pull against the chain, n his knees. Bignose pulled the mouthguard off and Sucio screamed a litany of Spanish insults. He couldn’t reach his face to wipe off.
“Shut your mouth, or we’re all gonna ram you!” Bignose said. Sucio couldn’t breathe with his chain pulled taut, so he soon had no choice but to fall silent. Bignose cleared his throat. “I’m gonna take you back to solitary to chill out for awhile. You’re a bitch now. You’ll have to accept that.” The other inmates roared their approval, but Bignose waved them quiet with one hand. “Now thank Inmate Delunez.” Sucio pulled against the chain again as he growled, but Bignose snapped it tight. Sucio sputtered, spit dripping past his lips. Bignose smiled. “Thank him.” When Sucio didn’t respond right away, Bignose whispered something in his ear.
Sucio blanched. “Thank you… Anthony,” he said through gritted teeth. “I… am alegre you done ram me.”
“Why, you’re welcome, Sucio, de nada. Anytime, I’d be alegre to ram you again.” Anthony held his hand up.
Sucio narrowed his eyes but kissed Anthony’s hand like a suitor wooing his girl. Anthony giggled at the sight of his big cholo body being dragged away. The other inmates clapped Anthony on the back, congratulating him and Anthony’s red face smiled.
The pain in his ass had diminished entirely, and Anthony was beginning to think his prison stay might not be as bad as it had initially seemed. He wondered if he could afford to buy a bitch, and if so, he knew exactly which one it would be. Anthony strode back to his cell like a returning champion.

The Drunkard at the Saloon

When a cruel and rugged cowboy gets drunk at a saloon, the town pansy is called to give him a taste of something more savory than whiskey! The cowboy is Alfie, a muscle-bound bully, and the pansy is Simon, who’s ready to get his rocks off whether Alfie wants it or not!

Can Alfie take the twink-on-ranchhand pounding that Simon is fixin’-a dole out?!

Read it now as an ebook! Or continue below for the whole story!

Simon was a dandy, in the parlance of the time. Lotta fellers in these parts discottoned to dandies, so Simon thought it might be a trap when Bud Mitchum came to see him. Bud worked at the only saloon in the town of Cheyenne in Wyoming Territory.
“Reckon I needs a favor you might could enjoy givin’,” Bud said, his voice low and hesitant. He avoided making eye contact.
Simon batted his eyes and shook his ass for Bud’s benefit. Bud blushed, his mustache bristling.
“That sounds exciting,” Simon said. A lot of the men here in Cheyenne were willing to let Simon service them on account of there being no women around. Bud never had done so, however. That made Simon eager to see what he wanted. “But don’t just assume I’ll jerk you off just cuz you want it, I have standards and you hafta earn it-”
Bud wrinkled his nose and jumped to interrupt him. “No! It ain’t like that. I… I is too muchuva gentleman to say it out loud, Simon. Jest come wit’ me. You’ll enjoy it, fo’ sho’re.”
He turned on his heels and walked away with military precision, a legacy of his time in the Union Army during the Civil War. Simon had always thought Bud was appealing, in a short and lanky kind of way, but he had always been too strait-laced to let Simon service him. Wondering and hoping if maybe that was what Bud was offering, Simon hurried after him. He barely had time to put his hickory shirt on before following Bud into the center of town.
That was where Lipsweet was, near Mr. Corrente’s apothecary on the main street. It was after one o’clock in the morning, so the apothecary was closed, of course, and Lipsweet was quiet and dark as well. It was deserted, but the smell of drunken cowboys lingered. It seemed to have been a good night, Simon thought, and he was disappointed no one came to get him. Normally at least one desperate gold-prospector or cowboy would come see him at the end of the night, but lately things had changed.
A prostitute named Maryanne had shown up a few days ago. She was all the rage in Cheyenne, which meant Simon had been left behind. He was trying not to get jealous. Whores like Maryanne usually disappeared pretty soon, so Simon thought he’d be back to his old tricks quickly enough.
“There he is,” Bud said. He pointed to a young cowboy sitting on a chair in the corner. Bud curled up his lip. “Tarnations! Alfie! Alfie!”
Alfie startled and woke up then, bleary-eyed and sweaty. He said something, but his drunkenness was so advanced all that came out was an incomprehensible blur of syllables. It was something like mussu hulifu to Simon’s ears.
Alfie was a local cowboy, one who had a reputation for being a drunk and a bully. He had a huge cock that he let Simon jerk off once before, though he had been mean the entire time and he even punched Simon when it was all over. He robbed and stole, and he had been perpetually on the verge of being run out of town. The only reason Sheriff Torkelson hadn’t ever done so was that Alfie worked on the Goodman ranch, which was big — Mr. Goodman had a lot of pull in this town. Alfie helped him enforce order among the farmworkers, ranchhands and cowboys who worked for him.
Simon had heard legends of how Alfie kept order there. He had always dismissed it as mere rumor, but he liked imagining it on cold and sleepless nights — supposedly, Alfie made men who displeased him bend over and grab their ankles. Alfie rammed his massive meat inside them and tore them up from head to toe. When they recovered and could walk again, they always worked a hundred times harder to prevent another occurrence of the same punishment.
But Simon didn’t think that was true, or maybe it had happened one time and the rumor mill had turned it into a nearly daily event. But now Alfie was passed out, and Simon wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about that.
“You want me to take him back to the Goodman farm?”
“What? Can you? If you can-“
“No, obviously not. Am I supposed to carry him? He’s three times my size,” Simon said with a laugh. “I couldn’t lift his arm up.”
Bud furrowed his brow. “Yeah, that wasn’t my plan. I just want you to teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget.
“Uh… He doesn’t look like he’s in a receptive mood to learn a lesson,” Simon said. He chuckled, then his eyes went wide as he saw Bud’s expectant expression on his face. Simon realized then that Bud was asking him to plow Alfie, just like Alfie was rumored to plow farmhands and cowboys. “Oh,” Simon said. “Are you… serious?”
“I told him it would gonna happen. If’n he passed out in my bar again, I’s gonna shove somethin’ up his ass. That’s what I said. I told him that. I warned him, a buncha times, over and over,” he said. “Sheriff Torkelson said I can do whatever I want-“
“Mr. Goodman?”
“As long as he can still work tomorruh, Mr. Goodman don’t care either. I… I heard he hit you and called you names,” Bud said. “He’s always mean to me. I j’st don’t know what else to do. I can’t let him sit in here all night, he’ll just piss all over the place, then wake up and demand free booze again. I’ll have to get the Sheriff in here to kick him out. That’s been happening nearly every morning for weeks. You can humiliate him, Simon. Make him wake up with… y’know… gom on his face.”
Simon shrugged. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of plowing a man who was nearly unconscious, but he wanted to try it. If he was ever going to, this bulging-muscled farmboy with a square jaw and grizzled chin was his ideal target.
He approached Alfie, who was slumped over the wooden table now. His face was buried in his meaty arms, but he was clearly not asleep. He stirred every few seconds, and he seemed to be chewing on his own arm. He might have thought it was some body part of a woman.
“Mo’ ‘um…” he said, lifting his head up suddenly. His eyes were big and wet, and at first Simon thought he was crying, then realized it was laughter. It was silent, like he barely breathed, but he was still laughing at something that happened before or maybe just a thousand in his head. He said that a few more times, “Mo’ ‘um…” Simon eventually reckoned it was more rum, and he grabbed a nearly empty bottle of rum off the bar.
“I’ll be… in my room,” Bud said. “Please tell me when you’re done.” He looked sickly as he disappeared into the back of the bar. Then he poked his head out and said, “You can finish off that bottle, give him the rest if you want, Simon, but no more than that.”
“Sure, fine,” Simon said. He drank a bit straight from the bottle. It was fine, sweet Barbadian rum. He showed it to Simon, who uselessly grabbed for it, his meaty bare arm shaking. His biceps were as big as Simon’s face, but he couldn’t reach the bottle now. His hands flailed around far from the bottle., which Simon dangled above his head. “Take off your clothes, Alfie, and I’ll let you have a drink from the bottle.”
Alfie grumbled and mumbled. He unbuttoned his shirt but was too uncoordinated to be successful at it. He became frustrated and ripped the shirt. Buttons flew everywhere. Then he pulled his undershirt over his head, only to again be stymied by a lack of coordination. He ended up with the shirt covering his face but stuck, and he banged his head on the table as he roared in frustration. He almost fell to the floor. His frustration gave way to hysterical laughter.
Finally he managed to get the shirt off. His hairy barrel chest gleamed with sweat. He continued to speak, but Simon didn’t understand a word he was saying. He grabbed for the bottle and Simon pushed his hand away. Alfie fell back into his chair, as though he didn’t realize he could simply overpower Simon.
“Lemme see your dick. Drop your trousers,” Simon said, shaking one finger at him like a schoolmarm. Alfie was drunk enough to be suggestible, and he reacted as though Simon was an authority figure he had to obey. It wasn’t clear if he recognized Simon at all. Alfie blushed and stood on swaying legs. He dropped his leather britches and the smell of his crotch hit Simon’s senses. It was a musty and warm scent that made Simon excited to get going.
Then he saw Alfie’s big slab of meat. Simon had jerked him off in the alley behind this very bar, but he had never seen it in good light. He whistled his approval and licked his lips. It was nearly a foot long and as thick as a small man’s forearm.
Using a big brandy glass so it would be hard to gauge exactly how much was in there, Simon poured him a bit of rum. It wasn’t much. Alfie looked at it cross-eyed as though he had no idea what it was, then he drank it and gurgled appreciatively.
“There you go, good job, Alfie,” Simon said. He kept his voice kind and feminine, both because it was easier for him and because he didn’t want to accidentally provoke Alfie into drunken rage. Simon wanted to get Alfie to take off Simon’s trousers as well, but he was such a fumbling fool right now that might have taken a long time and he might have ripped the fabric like he ripped his own shirt. Simon pulled off his own shirt and pants himself, shivering in the chilly night air.
“Szhin?” Alfie asked. He sounded hopeful. After he repeated it a few times, Simon reckoned he was asking for gin.
“Maybe in a bit, Alfie. First you need to do what you promised. You don’t want to be a welcher, right?”
“Nevuh…” He burped, and the rancid smell hit Simon on the face. Even though it smelled bad, the masculine aroma turned Simon on. He sat on the wooden table right in front of Alfie.
“You promised me you’d open your mouth for me? Do you remember that?”
He shook his head and furrowed his brow. He frowned. “Misshuh ‘oouhhn shay i’?” Again, Simon struggled to understand, then heard Mister Goodman said it?
“Yes! Mister Goodman said you have to do this,” Simon said. He cocked his head to the side. “Does Mister Goodman make you jerk him off?”
Alfie nodded glumly. He rolled his eyes. “He ish mean…”
“Ah, well… Yeah, it’s sort of an epidemic over there, I guess. I should start working for the Goodmans,” Simon said to himself. “I-“
“Yoo err too leetle,” Alfie said. He made a bicep with his right arm, which sent a thrill up Simon’s spine. He told Alfie to do it again, and Simon caressed those big muscles. He kissed each side of the bicep and licked the trail-dust and drying sweat off. Alfie giggled like a ticklish boy.
“Oh, you’re right. I couldn’t be a farmhand,” Simon said. He laughed along with Alfie, who was too drunk to keep laughing out loud, so he just chuckled quietly. He reached for the bottle of rum again but Simon kept it out of arm’s length. Alfie looked disappointed.
Simon scooted closer to the edge of the table. His feet rested on Alfie’s thighs, and his toes curled around those hairy trunk-like thigh muscles. His foot roamed forward to Alfie’s dick, which was limp and clammy but jumped into life as soon as he touched it. He stroked the shaft with his toes, and Simon closed his eyes as Alfie groaned.
Taking Alfie’s hand in his, Simon guided it to his own dick. Alfie looked on as though it was happening to someone else. He laughed nervously when his hand wrapped around Simon’s dick. He stroked it slowly and lowered his head.
“Good, I’ll tell Mister Goodman you did a good job,” Simon said. “Now lower your head.”
Alfie had definitely done this before, Simon realized — Mr. Goodman must have demanded his mouth before, no doubt as a condition of remaining in his employ. That was why Goodman refused to fire him no matter what. Alfie lowered his head and swallowed Simon’s dick to the root. He was so big his throat was cavernous, and it slid right in.
He gagged as soon as it touched his tongue, but that didn’t slow him down at all. His giant head had to stretch to get that low — he was so much taller than Simon that it was difficult to get his head down to Simon’s crotch even with Simon sitting on the table in front of him.
Intense pleasure rolled up Simon’s spine as his cock disappeared in Alfie’s maw and Simon’s nose rammed into his crotch hair. He gasped and guided Alfie’s head. It was not an expert job — it was sloppy and clumsy — but it was not that bad, and the awkwardness of it made it even more intense in Simon’s mind. His dick straightened and stiffened right away, and Alfie gagged with every motion of his head.
Despite his apparent dislike for the taste of Simon’s dick, Alfie didn’t resist at all, which Simon assumed was because he had been jerking off his boss for awhile. It seemed he was drunk enough that once he got started, he continued without giving it much thought, even as his body choked and rejected the cock in his mouth.
“Oh damn…” Simon’s voice broke.
Alfie’s scruffy chin scratched at Simon’s flesh as he jerked, his chiseled jaw stretching to get Simon’s thickness in his mouth. His tongue slathered spit up and down the shaft, though Simon could perceive the drunken awkwardness even in the motion of his tongue as it pleasured him — even the man’s tongue was drunk. Simon’s hips flexed, humping that magnificent square jaw.
Simon was shocked at how goood it felt, despite Alfie’s drunkenness and lack of desire.
“If you get the whole thing in your throat and hold it there for five seconds, I’ll pour you another drink,” Simon said. Alfie nodded, moisture twinkling in his eyes as he struggled for air. Then he did as Simon said, forcing his mouth all the way down on Simon’s dick. He gagged profusely as his nose nestled in Simon’s pubic hair. Simon held onto the thick mop of hair on his head as though he could force him to remain in place even though he was so much smaller than Alfie. Simon counted out five seconds but made it so slow it was closer to twenty seconds. “Good job, Alfie. Good boy.” Simon’s voice broke as his dick spasmed in Alfie’s throat.
Alfie retched up a big ball of saliva that landed on the table and dripped onto the floor. He took a deep breath when he finally pulled away again. Simon stepped forward, literally standing on the man’s thighs like a little boy hugging his father. He caressed those hairy chest muscles as he climbed up to Alfie’s shoulders.
With his fingers on Alfie’s forehead, Simon pushed his head back and then dropped his balls into Alfie’s mouth. Alfie again gagged when he jerked on those sweaty, hairy orbs. He coughed and sputtered, and Simon looked into those dark quivering eyes as he spread the saliva all over the man’s grizzled face.
Sensing that he was going to cum if he didn’t move on soon, Simon jumped down to the ground. He again poured Alfie a small drink of gin, which Alfie chugged before slamming the brandy glass back down on the table. In moments, Alfie seemed to have forgotten the disgust and shame he felt when jerking on Simon’s dick. He might have forgotten entirely what happened.
“Mo’ ‘um!” he said once again.
“You can have some more rum once you finish,” Simon said. “Get on your knees here on the floor, and bend over the chair.”
Alfie moved very slowly, on weak, hesitant knees. He dropped to the ground and bent over the chair he had just been sitting in. He didn’t seem to understand where this was going, so he just draped his arms and upper chest over the chair at first.
“No, you have to lean up,” Simon said, tugging on those massive arms. Alfie finally realized what he was supposed to do and crawled forward until his ass was in the air, again like a little boy, this time preparing to be spanked.
Simon hadn’t intended that, but his big hairy asscheeks beckoned, and Simon decided to give them a smack. He hit as hard as he could, making a loud slapping sound. But Alfie didn’t even seem to notice. He looked around the bar as though seeing it from this height was mesmerizing.
Simon slipped a finger between those hairy cheeks and found the man’s tight hole — though he noticed it wasn’t as tight as most normal men. He had been penetrated before, Simon thought, presumably by Mr. Goodman.
He pushed his finger in. Alfie yelped and squirmed, and his ass clenched around the finger. Simon sighed and used his free hand to caress Alfie’s strapping back muscles.
“Ah, ‘amm, a ooss,” Alfie said, insistently, as though it was very important. Simon made some supportive clucking sounds but didn’t both responding.
Alfie tried to sneak a hand up and grab the bottle of rum, which was virtually empty, but he moved so slow that Simon just grabbed it out of the way. He was going to put it on the floor, then took the neck and pushed it between those asscheeks.
“I’ll let you drink from the bottle, Alfie, but you gotta loosen up a bit,” he said. He swiped the neck of the bottle between those asscheeks and under the man’s sweaty ballsack. Alfie grunted and heaved, opening up his ass. Simon pushed the open neck into his asshole, and Alfie let out a pained snort. He banged his face into the wooden chair as he let out a howl of pain.
He ground his face into the wood while Simon pushed the bottle’s neck into his ass. When he pulled it out, the opening was sticky with assjuice and sweat. He passed the bottle to Alfie’s face, and Alfie wrinkled his nose as he tried to drink from it. The ass-slime smeared all over his face, and much of the rum missed his mouth, but Alfie didn’t seem to notice.
Simon slammed his own dick into Alfie’s ass while it was still loose. It immediately tightened around him, and Alfie grunted loudly. He squirmed beneath Simon’s grasp as Simon climbed atop his back. Alfie was so huge that it was awkward getting in position, but Simon enjoyed climbing up his muscular back.
Pounding his dick in and out as he stood on the edge of the chair, Simon gripped Alfie’s greasy black hair. Alfie squirmed and moaned, the motion making Simon’s dick feel even better as he plundered that broad farmhand ass.
The man’s ass tightened around Simon’s dick so much that his knees went weak from the intense pleasure. He grunted and groaned, losing all of his feminine grace; he rutted like an animal atop Alfie, whose pained contortions were slow, as though he was struggling through a pool of molasses.
His speed grew — Simon so rarely topped that he had been unsure how he could handle such a big man beneath him. But he soon got the hang of it, and Alfie’s heavy panting as he struggled turned Simon on even more.
His own orgasm came on quickly, and Simon made sure to pull out before it actually happened. He ran around the table and rammed his ass-covered dick into Alfie’s open mouth. Alfie gagged and retched but accepted it. He made a sour face as he tasted his own ass.
“How’s that taste, Alfie? You’re doing real good, boy…” Simon said. Incredible pleasure like nothing he had ever experienced washed over his body then, and he sprayed his cum right in Alfie’s mouth. Alfie sputtered, spitting most of it out as his body rejected the salty issue.
With sexual bliss rollicking his petite frame, Simon sighed. He smeared all the cum over Alfie’s sun-darkened face, its pearly whiteness contrasting with his swarthy skin.
Then Simon reinserted the bottle into his tired ass. Alfie yelped as tears welled up in his eyes. He tried to wipe his face off but Simon pushed his hand away. He looked Alfie in the eye as he worked that bottle back in and out of the man’s ass.
Meanwhile Simon let his other hand explore Alfie’s body. He grabbed his giant cock, which was half-hard and dangling next to the chair on which Alfie was still bent over. Simon gave it a stroke and giggled as Alfie moaned. He seemed to forget about the pain in his ass. He closed his eyes and submitted to Simon’s hand.
In no time, Alfie shot his load as well. Simon was waiting for it, as the man’s bulky muscles tensed and flexed. Cum sprayed into Simon’s waiting hand. Alfie gasped as though his orgasm was painful which Simon supposed it probably was since that bottle was still in Alfie’s ass.
“Alright, you just need to lick this up, boy,” Simon said, keeping his voice as stern as possible. The thick cum of Alfie’s nut sat hotly, steaming and dense, on Simon’s hand.
He held his palm in front of Alfie’s face. Alfie seemed to accept that he had to do what Simon said, and he grumbled but licked. He gagged and trembled as soon as he tasted his own thick creamy cum.
That was fine with Simon, who didn’t really want him to swallow it all. He laughed at Alfie’s gagging and smeared the cum over his face, which was now shiny with juices and fluids. He removed the bottle from Alfie’s ass and again allowed him to drink from it. Alfie breathed a sigh of relief and again didn’t seem to notice the taste of his own ass on the bottle.
When he had finally swallowed every drop of ass-sweat-and-rum, Simon replaced the bottle in his ass. Alfie accepted it easily this time.
Then he slipped off the edge of the chair, collaping into a pile of sleeping muscle on the floor. It was obvious that that was it. He was out for the night and wouldn’t be waking up no matter what.
Simon quickly replaced his own clothes. He wished he could stay here all night, but he didn’t want to be here when Alfie woke up. He was covered in semen and assjuice, and he had a bottle sticking out of his rear. He was going to be humiliated and furious when he woke up, Simon thought with a sense of satisfaction.
He knocked on Bud’s door and said he was done. Bud sighed as though he had been trying to forget about the lavender nastiness happening in his bar, but he said alright and thanked Simon.
“I could never have brought myself to do that,” Bud said when he opened the door to his room. He blushed a bright red. “I hope you taught him a lesson. I’ll make sure Sheriff Torkelson is there when he wakes up, so there’ll be a witness.”
“And you won’t tell him it was me?”
He shook his head. “I’ll just tell him he was drunk and I couldn’t stop him from begging a bunch of cowboys to use his body. I’ll say he did it for a few free drinks.”
“Oh, Bud… You have such wonderful ideas,” Simon said. Come get me if you have any trouble with anyone else.”

The Gas Mask

When Rashid sees a gas mask, it arouses strange feelings in him, feelings that he can’t help but act on! That means this alpha male bouncer at a nightclub is gonna bend over and take whatever his buddy Teddy will give him.

Can Rashid handle the liberation the gas mask inspires in him?

Read it now as an ebook! Or read the whole thing down below!

Rashid Jenkins sighed. He was always glad when he got through another shift at the nightclub without seeing anything he couldn’t unsee. Rashid had been a bouncer for pretty much his entire adult life — when he wasn’t in prison for a spell — and he was working now at one of the highest-paying clubs in the city. So he was glad to have the job, even if it made him uncomfortable.
It was unfortunate that it was a Leathertop Nightclub, which was part of the kink-and-fetish scene. That meant the freaks came dressed in black leather and the waitresses went into the back and wielded whips and chains, tying down the customers and doing… well, Rashid didn’t entirely know what they did, because he was a god-fearing man. He tried not to think about it, and he never went past the front room.
The front room itself was just a normal bar, and it was there that Rashid went at the end of the night. He had taken to getting a drink from Teddy, the bartender, who was a flat-leaf, limp-wrist sissy hunk of honey. Rashid made sure to snarl and look dour every time he sat down because he didn’t want Teddy to think he was friendly.
Bouncers aren’t sposedta be friendly.
The bar emptied early tonight. As it neared closing time, the last of the customers either left or went into a backroom with a waitress/dominatrix. Only one waitress remained, the plump white one with leather straps separating her fat into foldy chunks — Ellendra. Rashid gave her a polite nod but no smile — he don’t want her thinking he’s flirting — and he sat down at the freshly-wiped bar. Teddy slammed his cell phone onto the counter. He bit his lip and held back tears, his elfin face scrunched up tight.
“Hi, Rashid,” Teddy said, his high voice nasal with repressed tears. “Bourbon?”
Rashid nodded. His heart stumbled as he realized he was supposed to ask what was wrong — he wasn’t expecting emotions in a bar like this. Not like that. That’s… He wrinkled his nose. Honkies, man… Honkies be tripping. He tried to stand up on a look both kind and unapproachable, but that’s a hard face to pull off.
The bar was empty, and Teddy’s tears were blatant. Not acknowledging it was awkward. “What’s… uh, wrong?” Rashid finally asked, when that fat waitress was gone. She oughta have handled this, Rashid thought. She was a woman, Rashid was just a bouncer.
The bartender sposedta be like a therapist, right? At least in the movies. Who’s the bartender’s sounding board? Who therapizes the therapist?
Rashid, apparently.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Teddy said, lips pursed so it was clear that that wasn’t true and that he would be explaining shortly. “My girlfriend dumped me. By text message. Not that that’s a problem, she’s a bitch. She’s a rank bitch.”
“Oh, okay. Uh… Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not a problem,” Teddy said, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice broke, letting out a jagged cry of saprotude — that’s an emotion combining anger, sadness and self-righteousness, common in people who have been dumped. He sniffled and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his feet like he was about to explode. Then he remembered he was pouring Rashid a glass of bourbon, so he got out the bottle and spilled several shots worth before he got the glass set up. “I knew it! She deserves to be alone though. That fucking bitch!” He slammed the bourbon in front of Rashid. He had put way too much ice in it, but Rashid didn’t want to complain.
He just sipped his ice-cold bourbon. There was a gas mask on the bar, which drew his attention. Rashid didn’t like to see the fetish gear normally, because it reminded him that he was surrounded by freaks. But the gas mask didn’t seem as bad — it had a function, after all, besides sex, even if it was an old-fashioned design that would probably be useless today for actual protection against poison gas attacks. It was fetish gear, but it seemed more appropriate, maybe even less sinful to Rashid.
That wasn’t logical, but it made sense somewhere in his heart.
And it did look like a real gas-mask, just old and battered, cuz it had been in this fetish club for who-knows-how long. It wasn’t manufactured as fetish gear, he was sure of that. Rashid wondered if it had ever been used. Did they use gas masks like that in… maybe Vietnam? World War 2 for sure, but it wasn’t that old.
Maybe.
“Girls are such a pain in the ass. They’re weak-willed, you know…”
“Yeah.”
“My last girlfriend dumped me and then immediately went out and sucked off like ten guys,” Teddy said. He threw his hands up, pacing behind the bar. “I really know how to pick ‘em!”
Rashid winced and shook his head. The television screens behind Teddy all turned on, playing porno. Now that they were closed, the monitors should have stayed off, but sometimes they came off and on. They were linked to the lights in the back or something. Rashid’s eyes were drawn to the screen. His dick got hard in his pants as he half-listened to Teddy.
The woman on screen was blonde, beautiful as hell from the back — she got that white-girl ass that Rashid craves — but she got kinduva dumptrucky face. Whatever though, Rashid could fuck her from behind. He was so engrossed in that that he ignored whatever else Teddy was saying, his relentless bitching about his girlfriend.
His attention only returned to Teddy when the porno movie onscreen revealed itself to be bondage-themed. Rashid had no interest in that. The camera lingered on the knots and the rope pulling itself taut, her skin pressing against it hard. Rashid’s eyes and ears tuned back into Teddy’s ongoing litany of complaints.
“And girls will not shut up!” Teddy said. “She never shut her mouth, not even when my father was telling us about his prostate cancer. I mean, am I right or what? He’s going off about the side effects of chemo, and she suddenly brings up some stupid reality show about penguin researchers banging each other in Antarctica.”
“Yeah…-” Rashid said with a shrug he hoped was both kind and dismissive. His attention was now drawn away the TV screens playing porno and the milky rope-clad tits jiggling up and down. — instead, Rashid’s attention aimed itself at that damn gas mask.
Who wore it in the backrooms? The man or the woman? The fact that it was here now suggested a woman. If a man wore it, he’d have brought it himself and taken it with him when he left for the night.
So a woman wore it. While she got fucked. Massive cock ramming into her pussy or maybe her tight ass.
Prolly not a massive cock. Prolly a normal honky peter. Rashid got a massive cock, but he assumed mosta the tubby crackers who come through his place had small manhoods.
“I’m sorry,” Teddy said, biting back tears. He bit his lip. “I’m just really upset right now. Have another bourbon.”
He slid a glass down the bar to Rashid, who was glad to have some more liquid to drown out the ice in his first bourbon. He sipped it and tried to watch the porno behind Teddy, forcing his eyes to lock on to the beautiful brunette’s bouncing tits and plump pussy onscreen. His dick was raging hard.
But what he really wanted right now was that gas-mask. It prolly smelled awful, he thought. Awful but in a good way. Awful like a slut’s pussy. A clean slut, but still, a slut’s pussy. Right after a shower in her filthy apartment bathroom. Yeah…
“I need to get laid,” Teddy said, blinking the last of his tears out of his eyes. He sniffled. “I won’t get over this without blowing a nut tonight. I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll just be tossing and turning, thinking of her.” He hurriedly typed out a text message, presumably asking someone if she could come over for sex. Maybe one of the waitresses. Rashid was glad that Teddy was getting ready to leave. Rashid wished he could leave too, but his shift didn’t technically end until he escorted Teddy to his car. Closing time was literally one minute ago, so he couldn’t hardly complain.
Then Teddy threw his cell phone down on the counter again. He had gotten a text message he didn’t like, it seemed. He blinked back another wave of tears. “Those bastards,” he said. “Everyone’s taking her side.”
“Sorry, man,” Rashid said. A thought had occurred to him: he could plow Teddy.
Teddy did that, he was like that, a bit of a sissy. A small bit of a big sissy. He was petite and pale and kinda effeminate in his way. Rashid could always make Teddy keep it a secret, and he could deny it when Teddy inevitably spilled the beans. Teddy had spilled the beans last week that one of the other bouncers ramrodded him — this old head Thumper, he was like that, Rashid wasn’t surprised at all.
And there was that gas mask sitting right there. He didn’t even understand why that was a kink — the bondage stuff he got, because there was a level of interaction there, it had an impact on the orgasm. Orgasms with a gas mask on were the same as orgasms without a gas mask on, except maybe a little stuffier and weirder.
But why was it so arousing?
Rashid hadn’t even heard Teddy rant for the last few minutes, but apparently his booty calls all told him not to come over. Possibly even his male friends had sent discourteous texts, Rashid hadn’t paid attention and now it seemed rude to reveal that by asking what happened. As Teddy shut down the bar, he raged over each text message he received.
It seemed Teddy’s friends were really his girlfriend’s friends. That happens, a lot of men are like that. Not Rashid. He got his own niggas. When he hooks up with a female, she got her friends, he got his. Women on her side, men on Rashid’s. Simple, easy, copacetic. All good.
Bet that gas-mask would make a man feel good. Covers up the face. No inhibitions. Rashid looked away from the gas-mask but just for a moment.
Rashid did time in prison. He knew damn well how bad it hurt to take a cock in the ass, though he never let it happen to him. He saw it plenty, this rat-face nigga named Ratty rapping on a nigga backdoor. Ratty was like that.
Yet he sensed that it might feel good for a sissy like Teddy. Rashid’d never admit to that, not publicly.
But if the gas mask was on Teddy’s face… that wouldn’t be public at all. It would be like nobody saw, not even Teddy. Rashid could just feel. Nobody would believe Teddy if he said Rashid let him ramrod him with a gas mask on. Rashid couldn’t stop thinking about how it’d feel if Teddy’s cock came pushing into his ass, not like Ratty’s nasty crackhead pecker, Teddy’s dick wouldn’t be like that at all. It’d be clean and gentle…
Rashid gulped.
Teddy scowled and blushed a bright red. He looked down at the counter he had been polishing for an unreasonable amount of time. The bar was shut down, all he had to do was press the total button on the register and take the cash drawer into the office to lock away in the safe. He set about doing that.
“Uh… Teddy,” Rashid said, looking around to be sure nobody was around. “You know… I uh, I sometimes mess around on the downlow. If you promise not to tell no one…”
Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”
Rashid stood up and grabbed the gas mask. “Here,” he said. “Put this on. If you cover up your face, I might be able to forget you’re not a girl,” he said. “But when this is done, you better stop crying about that ex. She ain’t worth it.”
Teddy dropped to his knees next to the stool Rashid sat on. He didn’t even put the cash drawer away, he placed it on the floor next to himself, so he could rush right into it. He pulled down Rashid’s pants so quickly and so enthusiastically that Rashid was unsure if he wanted to do this. He considered backing out.
But his worries vanished moments later when his dick flopped out in the warm, humid air of the nightclub, then filled Teddy’s throat. The familiar warmth of an expert mouth filled up Rashid’s mind, and he sighed. He finished the last of his bourbon, and he filled the glass again quietly so Teddy wouldn’t notice.
His dick swelled to full erection. Rashid guided Teddy’s head up and down, glad to have the opportunity for a simple, consequence-free orgasm. His mouth stretched to swallow Rashid’s fat meat, and with a little concentration, Teddy managed to deep-throat him to the root.
A sigh escaped from Rashid’s mouth. He needed this. And he didn’t need the gas-mask.
He kept sneaking glances at it though.
Sensing he needed to commiserate more, Rashid said, “Girls complain all the time, and they never tell you what they think. If they wanna dump you, they drag it out over like ten conversations over three months, like they get paid by the minute, man.” As he talked, he guided Teddy’s head up and down on his shaft.
From his cock-filled murmurings, it didn’t sound like Teddy exactly bought Rashid’s explanation, but he didn’t stop jerking to argue. Rashid groaned as pleasure rocked his body. His cock was rock-hard now, throbbing, precum flowing onto Teddy’s tongue.
“Damn… ” Rashid said, snorting back laughter. He poured out some more bourbon, and only then noticed that the porno had changed.
Rashid was surprised at how not disgusted he was. He must be getting more comfortable with freaky stuff now that he was working at a kinky club. That thought was vaguely disquieting — his pastor, Reverend Chandler, had said that might happen, and Rashid refused to believe it.
One of his hands roamed down and squeezed Teddy’s nipple. Rashid groaned when he realized what he was doing; it had been so instinctive he didn’t think about it until his hand was grasping for the breast that wasn’t there.
Then Teddy pulled off and stood up. Rashid leaned in and kissed him on the lips, again without giving it a second thought. His mind told him to pull away, to smack Teddy even, for making him do this, even if Rashid knew Teddy hadn’t made him do a damn thing. Rashid didn’t even kiss girls so soon after they sucked cock because he didn’t want to taste his own dick, which was exactly what he tasted on Teddy’s tongue.
When Rashid stopped kissing him, he looked down at his feet. He hoped Teddy didn’t say anything about that. Teddy must have sensed that desire, because he indeed said nothing. Instead, Teddy stroked both men’s cocks together, frotting with Rashid. Rashid bristled with pride at the realization that his dick was so much bigger than Teddy’s. He always liked showing it off.
Without a word of warning — with only a sly, knowing grin — Teddy put the gas mask on, again like he had sensed what Rashid wanted without Rashid saying so. Immediately the kinky porn vanished to the back of Rashid’s mind. All he could think of was how alluring Teddy’s body was. Aside from the lack of tits and vagina, he had a very girlish shape, he thought. He kissed Teddy again, this time on the smooth neck, just below the mask, and then his lips trailed down to those nipples.
“You got a nice smooth body, boi,” Rashid said with a low, seductive growl, embarrassed at himself even as he said it.
Teddy moved to turn around, but stopped as Rashid took hold of both cocks. He was enjoying this jousting, and he didn’t want it to end. Teddy’s dick pulsated beneath Rashid’s fingers, its middling thickness and pale whiteness contrasting with Rashid’s meaty member and dark brown color.
If it weren’t for that gas mask, Rashid was sure he would never have touched Teddy’s cock. He hadn’t done that since prison.
As though he wasn’t in control of his body, Rashid found that he wanted to go much further than he ever thought he would. He blamed the gas mask. Without seeing Teddy’s face, it was easier to follow his instincts, no judgmental eyes staring at him.
How had he ended up on his knees?
Rashid didn’t consciously sink to the ground, but there he was just the same.
If he wasn’t so much taller than Teddy that he had to stoop to reach his crotch, he would have started jerking him off without a second thought.
As it was, he gave it only a very brief second thought, then deep-throated Teddy to the root, swallowing every inch of his cock. He choked a little on the smooth texture and lotion-scented flavor, but something about it was deeply fulfilling for Rashid.
He moaned around the cockmeat in his mouth and gripped Teddy’s thin legs, which were smooth like a girl’s. He could really have pretended he was with a female, he thought, if it weren’t for the dick in his throat. He was surprised by how much it tasted like pussy.
The sour flavor of precum hit Rashid’s tongue, and he moaned. He wanted more. Teddy’s thin fingers gripped Rashid’s kinky hair and guided his head up and down. His breathing was loud and labored, made louder by the action of the gas mask. His trim chest heaved for breath.
His dick felt perfectly right in Rashid’s throat. It rubbed past his bristling mustache, and his heavy balls swung against Rashid’s grizzled chin. He felt weird, submitting to someone so much smaller than himself.
But it was intensely arousing too. He felt Teddy’s graceful fingers dance along his shoulders, which seemed so broad as to be superhuman in comparison with Teddy’s tiny body. Rashid had played football in high school, and he retained that beefy body shape.
The precum flowed like wine down his throat. He greedily guzzled every salty drop, no matter how it made his lips pucker and his mind race with confusion. He had never thought jerking off a man could feel so good.
Then Rashid pulled off. He looked up at Teddy’s gas mask-clad face and frowned. “I don’t know why I’m doing this…”
Teddy didn’t say anything. Rashid probably wouldn’t have been able to hear the words through the gas mask anyway, he thought, and he didn’t want to say anything.
He knew what he wanted, and it filled him with embarrassment. But he knew he would never have such a perfect opportunity to try it. So he stood, glad to show off how much bigger he was than Teddy — he didn’t feel intimidated at all, but still, it was good to remind Teddy that he wasn’t really in charge, even with the gas mask. Rashid flexed his biceps and frowned at Teddy, but his face was concealed by the mask, so it was impossible to see if Teddy was intimidated or even if he had noticed at all.
With his pants and underwear all the way around his ankles, Rashid sunk to all fours. He leaned his head near the floor to get his ass in the air.
It was too high for Teddy to get in position, but Rashid liked making him work for it. He kept his ass up, and Teddy had to get on his toes so he could align his cock with Rashid’s asshole. Rashid’s back twitched with anticipatory excitement.
But after just sliding his dick between Rashid’s cheeks for a few moments, he paused. He got down on the ground and jammed his tongue right in, smooth and unceremonious.
“Ah, fuckin’ hell, nigga…” Rashid said, then chuckled at himself for calling a whiteboi nigga — because he only ever messed around on the downlow with black men, it was just an instinct. It seemed that Teddy was too focused on licking ass to notice, however.
For a girl, a rimjob was a very big deal — Rashid loved getting rimjobs, but virtually no girls were willing to do it. When they did, they made him shower and shave his ass and shower again and get himself so clean and prepared that by the time he started, it wasn’t very sexy anymore.
So he was surprised when Teddy plunged his tongue into Rashid’s broad ass. Teddy gripped those plump cheeks and lapped at Rashid’s hole, teasing it open and loose. He growled through the gas mask, and Rashid shuddered with anticipation. Was this going to hurt? He supposed it probably would, a bit, but he still wanted to try it.
His body undulated as moist pleasure flowed from his ass and up his spine. If he wasn’t so eager to try something new, Rashid thought, he could have gotten this rimjob forever. His mind didn’t work while his prostate roared with pre-orgasmic pleasure, and his dick leaked precum into his fingers.
Then at last Teddy returned to standing on his toes with his cock resting against Rashid’s asshole, as though giving him another opportunity to change his mind. Rashid seriously considered backing out, but when he glanced behind himself and saw that gas mask, he wanted nothing more than to be penetrated.
When it happened, Rashid gasped. There was a faint, reedy twinge of pain, but even more than that, there was a sinking sensation of intense pleasure.
He bucked and moaned as Teddy used lube he pulled out from behind the bar, slickening up his cock while pushing in deeper and deeper. Rashid clenched his ass and gritted his teeth as the pressure and orgasmic bliss grew greater and greater.
Without saying a word, Teddy communicated to Rashid to roll over. He placed one delicate hand on Rashid’s back, and Rashid did as he was ordered. He laid on his back on the filthy floor, his great trunk-like thighs in the air. Teddy clutched his thick leg muscles with one hand, while his other caressed Rashid’s pecs and nipples.
He felt the orgasm approaching a few minutes before he did — it was always a surprise, of sorts, when he finally came with a girl, but this time he felt it encroaching on him even before it did. He was jacking himself off, so when his balls pulled up in his sac, he grunted and stroked more furiously.
“Ugh, nigga, yeah…” Rashid said, again forgetting he wasn’t with a black man.
Cum sprayed both within Rashid’s ass and over his chest. Teddy grunted and groaned, the sound muffled by the gas mask over his face. Rashid roiled and stroked the cum on his cockshaft into a frothy mixture that dripped into his body hair and onto the floor behind his back.
Great waves of pleasure rocketed Rashid’s body, buffeting him with feelings so intense he yelped like a girl. He was glad no one else was in the club right now to hear. His back contorted as he accepted every drop of Teddy’s creamy seed.
Teddy pulled out and sighed. He took the gas mask off, and the fantasy ended as Rashid realized where he was and what he had just done. He scurried up off the filthy floor and wiped his ass off with a napkin. His ass ached a little, but it didn’t exactly hurt.
“Uh, thanks,” Teddy said.
“Sure.” Rashid tried not to sound humiliated, and in truth, he wasn’t. He enjoyed what had happened, even if he didn’t intend to do it again (unless you can bring that gas mask home with you, a part of his mind thought but immediately pushed down). He just felt a sort of residual humiliation at the thought of Teddy going home and bragging about how he got to top a sexy big black bouncer like Rashid. “You better not tell no one,” Rashid said.
“I won’t.”
“I’ll deny it. No one will believe you,” Rashid said.
“I know,” he said. He put the gas mask down, then hesitated. He extended it towards Rashid and raised his eyebrows. “You wanna take this home with you? I’ll tell management it just disappeared.”
Rashid paused. He scowled and grabbed the gas mask. “Okay, prettyboy, if I’m going to escort you to your car, we better go now. I ain’t sitting here with a sissy like you all night. I got chicks waiting for my meat at home.”

The Casanova

Tedi is in for a wild one with the village casanova Giuseppe! Giuseppe is in trouble for seducing another maiden, which is gonna give Tedi a chance to get in on his behind.

Can Giuseppe handle this traditional punishment for being a ladysman?

Read it now as an ebook! Or read the whole thing below!

The Casanova

Teodoro — Tedi to his friends — was about to start putting makeup on for his show tonight when the sound of a brouhaha outside drew his attention. He didn’t want to be bothered by whatever it was — almost certainly a girl having lost her virginity, which was what the local townsfolk had been most concerned about for a long time.
That concern did not extend to Tedi. He was not bothered by the purity of this town’s women. At the moment, he dressed in nothing more than plain white (or off-white, now) britches, but before the show started, he’d put on a wig and one of his stunning diaphanous dresses, making him look like a graceful and elegant woman. His slender upper body glistened with the cream he had just finished rubbing into it.
He hurried to the door to see what was happening. When he flung it open, he saw a man and a woman, about to knock on the door.
The man was naked, awkwardly bent over so the woman could grip the thick mop of black hair on his head. She held on tight and he flailed, trying to use his hands to both push her off and to at the same time cover his bare crotch. Tedi felt a surge of heat — that was Giuseppe, the handsomest man in the village. He had had an irrepressible crush on Giuseppe ever since spying him swimming naked in the river with his friends. He had hidden in a tree and watched their dicks flop, muscles flexing as they roughhoused in the water.
But that had been from a distance, not right up front. Now he was here in front of Tedi’s door — stark naked — and Tedi’s knees went weak just looking at him and his fat swinging cock.
He had a perfectly flat belly with a beefy chest, all of it covered in fine black hairs. He was young, just eighteen, so his skin was smooth and the chest hair wasn’t quite a dense tangle of coarse fur yet; it was still silken and it ended at his shoulders. His dick was slightly visible through the gaps between his fingers, which made Tedi’s mouth drool. Giuseppe had a square jaw with a few days’ grizzle on it and a broad nose with deep dimples that were apparent now, while he winced in pain and the old woman pulled on his hair.
“Tell him!” the old woman barked. Tedi recognized her now — Anita Colombo, Giuseppe’s aunt. She was a perpetually angry spinster who was active in the church and led the women’s group there. She was a fierce defender of female chastity, presumably because she was too bitter, old, wrinkled and nasty to get any kind of man. Her purity was unravageable.
“Hi, uh… Tedi,” Giuseppe said; his voice was pinched and tense. He winced as the woman pulled on his hair. In order to let her grip his hair, he had to stoop down low. His muscles were flexed, like he really wanted to just push her away, but of course, he couldn’t push a woman, especially an old woman who was related to him. He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh… I, I gotta ask-“
“Oh, this will take forever,” Anita snapped. She pushed him into the house past Tedi, letting go of his hair. Giuseppe tripped and landed on the floor. “My good-for-nothing nephew has put another fine feminine soul at risk, Tedi!”
“Signorina, you are upset, I can see that. Let me make you a cup of coffee-“
“I do not want any coffee. If it were only him, I could ignore it. Su vergüenza sería únicamente su propia!,” she put her hands on her hips. “But he has brought shame upon this entire family. He has been consorting with… Well, I shouldn’t say her name. I will not bring shame upon her family as well. Di lei nome deve essere un segreto…”
“Signorina-“
“Hush,” she said. “That girl is from a good family, Tedi. She has been plundered, ruined, by him! That alone would be bad enough. Jeopardizing souls like it meant nothing to him! He goes to church every week and then spends his days, and his nights, with loose female flesh, the donne troia.”
“Zia Anita, come on…” Giuseppe stood right behind Tedi, so close that Tedi could feel his body heat and sense his limp, low-hanging dick rubbing on Tedi’s own back. He had to resist the urge to start slurping on it right now in front of his dear Zia Anita.
“But that is not all. He threatens to ruin our family in this life as well as the next,” she said. Then she made the sign of the cross over her ample bosom. Gesticulating wildly, she continued, “He has plundered a girl whose grandmother knows well the olden ways! She has cursed the entire family with her evil eye! She has the worst malocchio in the village, this I know well…” Tears escaped down her chin. “You cannot escape her curse!”
At first, Tedi assumed something else was coming. Villagers here were always talking about the evil eye (malocchio), but no one took it very seriously, did they? Anita looked like she was about to faint. There must be something else.
But no, it soon became clear from the look on her face that she was terrified of the evil eye.
“Signorina, I am very sorry to hear that. But I do not know about witchcraft,” Tedi said. “I would not know how to undo the malocchio.”
“You do not need to know how. So come. I have consulted with Padre Ricardi, and I have consulted with my grandmother’s notes. I spoke with the matriarch who placed the malocchio in the first place,” she said. She shook her head and bit her lip. “I can not speak it. You must lay with the boy, as though… with a girl, as though he were a girl. You must plunder him, make him feel the shame and filthiness that that poor girl must be feeling.”
Giuseppe burst in with a nervous smile. “I don’t think that’s how she feels, Aunt Anita. We’re in love. I was going to propose matrimonio to her-“
“She will never marry you! She is a high-class woman! She will not marry a man with broad shoulders, callused fingers and sporco sotto le unghie!” Anita said, throwing her hands in the air. She glared at Tedi. “Will you do this? You are the only man in the village who would undo this particular curse.”
Tedi stammered over himself. Logically, he wanted to say no; he was offended that she assumed he’d want to, but on the other hand, Giuseppe was the most handsome man in the village. Tedi did want to do it, even if he thought the reason for it was nonsensical. “Signorina, I… I will do it.”
“Oh, wonderful! You may make it hurt,” she said with a cruel glint in her eye. She glared at her nephew. “Egli deve soffrire molto…”
“Wait, Zia Anita, what are you talking about?” He put his hands on his hips. “He can’t treat me like a girl. I don’t have una micio-” His eyes went wide and he gasped, like he only just figured out what his aunt intended. He again covered his crotch with both hands. “Zia Anita! I can’t submit to that!”
“The curse upon you is great, mio nipote! It can only be undone this way,” she said. It sounded like she was near tears, like she was consigning her nephew to certain death.
It sounded like Giuseppe was in a similar place, and he also sniffed back tears. He trembled and shook as Tedi closed the door — it was obvious they could keep wailing like this all afternoon, so Tedi just needed to shut the door and move things along.
“Please… isn’t there any other way?” he asked, partially aiming the question at Tedi and partially aimed out the door.
“Your curse has already harmed this family! Tua cugina Valentina was stricken today with consumption!”
“Really? Dio mio!” Giuseppe turned to face Tedi before the door finally slammed shut with Anita on the other side. Tears welled up in his eyes as he ran his fingers through his thick black hair, which now was a messy tangle since his aunt had dragged him here using his hair as a handle. He blushed and stepped away from Tedi, hands still covering his crotch.
That seemed doubtful to Tedi, but Anita confirmed it through the door. It took time for consumption to appear and for it to be confirmed to be that and not a similar illness. It was entirely too early in the day for Aunt Anita to have heard confirmation that it was consumption, assuming the illness began after Giuseppe was caught with the girl. But Tedi didn’t want to point this out, and besides that, he had long ago learned that the superstitious mind would always find a way to rationalize it — Giuseppe had presumably intended to bed the girl before it actually happened, for example, so perhaps the curse reached backwards in time to cause punishment when the sin was planned but not yet executed. Perhaps Valentina would have quickly recovered if Giuseppe had decided not to take the girl’s virginity.
In any case, it was not Tedi’s responsibility to be the rational one.
Giuseppe was pale now. He kept his hands over his crotch and his muscles rippled as anxiety flowed through him. He had been to see Tedi’s show at least once, and he had reacted like any other male — aroused but ashamed of it because he knew that Tedi was a man dressed like a woman. Now though, Tedi was dressed as a man; there was no way to pretend he was a real girl.
“Get on your knees, Giuseppe,” Tedi said. His voice was flat and firm. “Your soul is going to learn a very difficult lesson today.”
Giuseppe sunk to his knees as Tedi dropped his britches. He pulled his dick out and gave it a few strokes. It was already half-hard, so it quickly swelled to full erection in front of Giuseppe’s trembling, tear-streaked face.
“Open your mouth,” Tedi said. When Giuseppe hesitated, Tedi used both hands to force his lips apart. He enjoyed touching Giuseppe’s handsome face, which was still beautiful, despite being streaked with tears, his confident charm replaced by choked terror.
He pushed his dick in, and Giuseppe gagged loudly. He sputtered and choked with just the tip of Tedi’s dick on his tongue. But he didn’t pull away or try to leave, he just submitted even as his body rejected Tedi’s shaft.
“Good! Make him choke! Everyone come listen to my nephew’s shame!”
Tedi blushed almost as red as Giuseppe — Tedi normally liked to keep a low profile. The men of this village did not easily tolerate girlie-men like Tedi, so the more attention he attracted, the more danger he was in. Tedi could never forgive himself if he didn’t take full advantage of the situation he was in though, so he didn’t slow down. If he was exiled as a result, he thought, he could find a new town that needed a feminine dancer. He could even move to Rome.
Giuseppe choked up so much spit it made Tedi laugh. He had never seen someone produce so much saliva while swallowing dick — it seemed he tried not to swallow any of the moisture in his mouth, like it was contaminated with cock, so he wanted to spit it out. But Tedi didn’t remove his dick, so Giuseppe couldn’t close his mouth, which meant he couldn’t actually spit; he could only drool and drip saliva from his lips.
There were more people around now. Tedi heard them gather outside the front of his house. Women muttered among themselves, either laughing at Giuseppe’s superstition or silently praying to protect themselves from the malocchio. Men jeered and muttered insults as they scattered around the house looking for open windows (which they wouldn’t find because Tedi always kept his curtains closed). No matter how much the men didn’t want to watch a girlie-man like Tedi go at it, they all wanted to see Giuseppe’s humiliation — Giuseppe was so handsome he was the object of affection for every woman in the village.
The pleasure in Tedi’s cock was intense, making it hard for Tedi to focus on being serious. He smiled at Giuseppe’s frenzied sputtering and the puddle of saliva that formed on the floor. His dick throbbed in Giuseppe’s throat, swelling to fit and forcing the big Italian macho to gasp for air when Tedi backed out just enough to allow it.
Tedi eventually pulled away, not wanting to finish in Giuseppe’s mouth. He had bigger plans. Giuseppe sputtered and gagged profusely, spitting over and over onto the floor as though trying to get every drop out. Tedi moved behind Giuseppe and rammed a finger in his ass even before Giuseppe realized what was going on.
“Oh, dio mio!” he shouted. “Che fa male come l’inferno!” A torrent of laughter arose from outside, and Giuseppe blushed. He bit his lip. His ass clenched hard on Tedi’s finger.
Tedi giggled. Every time he moved his finger even a bit, it sent waves of agony through Giuseppe’s muscles. Giuseppe hung his head as he settled on all fours — the only position that made this fingering easy for him, since he was massively taller than Tedi — and arched his back. The muscles of his back rippled, and he gripped the ground as though trying to rip the floorboards up.
Hooking his finger to one side or the other made Giuseppe grunt. He hyperventilated, his entire body stiff and tense as he focused on relaxing the only muscle that counted. Tedi rammed his finger in and out, enjoying the spongy feel of the man’s body.
“Go over to the window,” Tedi said.
Giuseppe hesitated but did as he was told when Tedi used his finger in Giuseppe’s ass to point the way. Giuseppe crawled with difficulty across the floor. It took what seemed like a long time to get there. Giuseppe gasped and twisted his head as he suppressed the agony in his trembling ass.
“Poke your head out the window,” Tedi said. Giuseppe hesitated again, and Tedi repeated himself. “Put your head out the window. You are supposed to experience all the shame and humiliation that poor girl felt. That means people must see what happens to you. If not, the malocchio will surely haunt your family for generations to come.”
He gritted his teeth and pushed his head out past the curtain. Outside, his face was on the side of the building, so no one noticed right away. Tedi’s house was built on a hill, which meant Giuseppe’s face was high in the air compared to the folks on the ground outside.
The people out front didn’t notice his head until Tedi lined his dick up with Giuseppe’s ass. It had just a bit of hair, the perfect amount, Tedi thought, for a man’s ass. It was enough to be clear that it was a man’s ass and not a woman’s, but it didn’t have the dense thicket of smelly hair that Tedi associated with sailors, soldiers and Greeks.
To put his face out the window, Giuseppe had to crouch rather than remain on all fours. That put his ass much too high for Tedi to effectively penetrate. He got a short stool and stood on that, which made it much easier.
When he at last slammed his dick in, Giuseppe let out a screeching yelp. That was what attracted the attention of the crowd. Giuseppe’s legs straightened and his back arched, but Tedi tapped his back until he got the message — he had to crouch in order for Tedi to reach him.
“Che è troppo grande per un uomo femminile!” Giuseppe grunted and groaned, turning bright-red as the crowd moved to the side of the building. They were throwing rotten fruit at him now, and every time they got a direct hit on Giuseppe’s face, they all cheered and clapped.
Ignoring the resistance he felt, Tedi rammed hard and slow. He enjoyed the long grinding motions as he pushed into Giuseppe’s ass, and he sighed with satisfaction every time he let his dick lower almost all the way out. Sensations sparked throughout Tedi’s body.
The pleasure was unbelievably intense for Tedi, who had never felt anything quite like it. He had penetrated only a few men, none of them as handsome or well-formed as Giuseppe. Those occasions had been nothing compared to the fleshy, meaty feel of Giuseppe’s muscles tightening underneath him, the masculine hair of his ass or the macho grunting as he tried to pretend he wasn’t in agonizing pain. Tedi laid atop him, grinding his dick in, making certain to hit every corner of Giuseppe’s sensitive insides.
“Feliciana!” Giuseppe shouted.
The front door opened, and a pretty black-haired girl marched in, pushing past Anita. She slammed the door shut behind herself. That must be Feliciana, who, Tedi assumed, was the girl whose honor Giuseppe had plundered. She was pretty, but with an arrogant, upper-class look to her face.
She squealed in shock at the sight. Giuseppe brought his fruit-dripping head back in the building and exclaimed back at her, grunting too hard to form words as his movement reawakened the agony in his backside. He nearly collapsed to the ground at her feet. The sensation was too intense for Tedi to stop now, so he continued humping Giuseppe’s ass as he writhed in pain and humiliation at his girlfriend’s feet.
“Giuseppe!” she shouted. “You are… what are you doing?! Che è disgustoso!”
“I’m doing this for you, my cara Feliciana,” he said.
“I never asked you to do this!”
“Your grandmother… She put a curse on me. Malocchio,” he said. “On my family.” Tears twinkled in his eyes. Tedi groaned. He allowed Giuseppe to angle his body to face the girl, but Tedi was relentless on his ass. He didn’t even slow down as Giuseppe’s body tightened with the shame overcoming him.
“So, you do this for a curse?” she asked.
He nodded. “I must do it. But we can still be together afterwards! Possiamo sposarci…”
Feliciana thought for a long time. She cocked her face to the side and then shook her head. “No… Giuseppe… You were very sweet to me, and you have such a handsome face… But you are from a poor family,” she said. “And now… you are not a real man. Si hanno meno di un uomo…”
“What?!”
“You have been sodomizzato…” she said with a giggle. She smiled at Tedi. “You are letting a small man inside you. That is… I can not respect you after this. I must marry a man who acts like a real man.”
“Feliciana…”
“Close your mouth. A real man would rather submit to a curse than that,” she said. She shook her head in disappointment, then walked out the door. When the front door was briefly open, Anita’s voice filtered in, her braying laughter filling the house for a moment before the door slammed shut again. Giuseppe sobbed into the floor.
Anita’s voice was audible from outside. “You do not much like him anymore, do you? Good.”
It seemed that the crowd was focused on chanting on the side of the house where Giuseppe’s face had been seen through the window, so none of them realized why Feliciana had gone inside. Her virtue was intact in the eyes of the villagefolk.
Giuseppe straightened his back when talking to Feliciana, so Tedi was clutching his muscles, trying to hang on — when they both stood plainly, Tedi’s face was even with Giuseppe’s upper back, which mean that the straighter Giuseppe stood, the less Tedi could easily penetrate his ass.
But he refused to take his dick out, even as Giuseppe’s massive body quaked and trembled with the power of his sobbing. Tedi had to claw at the man’s skin for support, and he used his feet to grip Giuseppe’s hairy thighs.
Finally Giuseppe seemed to realize that he had to change his positioning if this was going to ever end. He dropped to all fours, and Tedi at last had some leverage again. He pounded away at Giuseppe’s ass.
Since he had been ramming him for awhile, Giuseppe’s hole was loosened and opened now. Tedi could easily drill his dick in and out. A loud thwacking sound came with every thrust of Tedi’s hips.
When Giuseppe wiped tears off his face, Tedi felt a twinge of pity. He reached around to Giuseppe’s dick and gave it a stroke. It was already hard, but it must have been close to finishing despite his despair, because Tedi could already feel the orgasmic energy collecting and roiling in the shaft.
As though he hadn’t been aware of the intensely pleasurable feelings in his dick until Tedi touched it, Giuseppe’s weeping turned into a momentary moan of bliss. Precum leaked profusely from his cockshaft and coated Tedi’s fingers.
“You can come see me anytime, Giuseppe,” Tedi said softly. He repeated it, but Giuseppe didn’t acknowledge it, whether because he didn’t want to admit he might allow this to happen again or because he genuinely didn’t hear it, Tedi didn’t know which.
Then at last Tedi felt his own orgasm overwhelm him. He grunted and nibbled on Giuseppe’s smooth back as it happened, and pleasure rolled up and down his spine. Giuseppe gasped at the sensation even before the first drops of cum filled him up; his back muscles rippled beneath Tedi’s lolling tongue.
Cum sprayed inside Giuseppe, a torrent of male juices that coated the inside of Giuseppe’s body. It felt like an incredible amount of cum, more than Tedi had ever shot before. Giuseppe gulped and moaned, making an ear-shattering sound.
Anita must have been listening at the door, because she called out when Giuseppe made a noise. “Good! Is that it? That’s how you made that poor innocent girl feel, Giuseppe! Not so proudful anymore, are you!?”
Tedi had to suppress a giggle at Giuseppe, who wept again at that reminder. The crowd cheered and shouted. But Giuseppe’s sadness was short-lived — he reached his own orgasm moments later in Tedi’s hand.
It was a painful orgasm, Tedi could tell that from the way Giuseppe sucked on his teeth and bit his lip, asshole clenching on Tedi’s limp dick. But there was also an intense pleasure behind it, which Tedi sensed in the rippling of his back muscles and the exhausted tenor of his grunting.
Tedi had to strain to reach all the way around Giuseppe’s body to jack him off, but he did that now with his second hand as well. He scooped up all of the cum as it sprayed from Giuseppe’s uncut cock.
A part of Tedi wanted nothing more than to eat the cum off his own palm, but he could do that with nearly any of the men who came to see him. Today, Tedi wanted to do something different.
“Give me your mouth,” Tedi said, and Giuseppe did as he was told. He winced painfully as he turned his head with Tedi’s limp dick still throbbing in his ass. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes.
It was apparent that Giuseppe thought Tedi wanted to kiss him again, but instead Tedi tipped his hand full of cum right into Giuseppe’s mouth.
Giuseppe gagged and choked on the snotty texture and sour-sweet flavor. His asshole clenched down again as though trying to rip Tedi’s dick off. That sent a second wave of orgasmic pleasure up Tedi’s body. He gasped as Giuseppe moaned in pain.
While he smeared the remnants of cum from his hand onto Giuseppe’s face, Tedi let his dick flop out slowly. It made a moist popping sound when it finally came out. Giuseppe collapsed into a sweaty heap on the floor, sniffling and holding back tears.
Tedi sat down next to him and clucked his tongue. He massaged the thick black hair of Giuseppe’s head. “There, there,” he said. “It’s over now. The curse is lifted. Malocchio è andato…”
Giuseppe sniffled. “She was right, I am less than a man. No girl will ever marry me now.”
“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Tedi said. “Besides, even if it is, you can always go to America, or to England or France, or just Rome. No one there will know.”
“I will know.”
“Or you can stay here. You can come visit me whenever you need a girl… I normally don’t do any of this, y’know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can… treat me like a girl. That is more normal. When you don’t have a curse to remove, that is what I would expect. You can come here and ram at my ass, my face — every part of my body is yours.”
“Really?”
“Really. It feels like a girl, or so everyone tells me,” Tedi said. He patted Giuseppe on the ass and held back a laugh when Giuseppe winced in pain. “Now come on. Hold your head high. You did what you needed to do for your family. The reason those men out there are teasing you is because they are jealous. Their wives would give anything to be your wife instead of theirs.”
He smiled behind his tears and crawled to his feet. The agony was evident, but he shook it out and took a few tentative steps before wincing in pain again. “Can I wait in here for a few minutes?”
Tedi motioned for him to sit down on the couch, which he did, and Tedi curled up next to his muscular arms. When Giuseppe found that sitting on his ass was too painful, he slid down to laying on his side. Tedi sat there in the crook of his chest, massaging his muscles.
“Of course, baby,” Tedi said. “You can wait here as long as you need. I’ll take care of you.”

The Circus Strongman

“You’s had bettuh take a nice tone wit’ me, Dandy Littlepants, I’m boutto give you’s a present you’ll enjoy.”

This is the entirety of “The Circus Strongman“. To download it as an ebook, see here.

Randy Hollingsworth was billed as “The Littlest Dandy” in the Warren Heights Traveling Carnival, so everyone there called him Dandy. He was just above two feet tall, making him — so some doctor said — the shortest man in the state (the state at that time being California, where Dandy grew up).
He was the barker for the carnival, gathering folks in with his loud mouth and smooth laugh, controlling crowds and lubricating the transitions between attractions. He long ago learned he had the outsized gift of attracting attention and making men laugh, and his flamboyant personality didn’t draw hostility because it came across as a harmless byproduct of his small size. He could lilt and prance like a showpony without threatening anyone’s sense of propriety.
It was approaching the end of the summer of 1928 when Dandy and the Warren Heights Traveling Carnival approached Chicago. Dandy spent the day passing out fliers and answering questions about the carnival and his height, and by the time he got back to his own tent, he was too tired to do anything more than sit back and rest. His little legs ached, his knees throbbing, his throat graveled like an untended road.
“Hey, Dandy!” boomed a bone-shakingly deep voice from outside the tent.
Dandy jumped to his feet, so startled he yelped. He had just been drifting off to sleep.

Grumbling his way to the tent flap, he rehearsed telling Pavel no if he was here to ask for another favor. There was no mistaking the voice, it was Pavel.
Pavel was a carnie like Dandy. He was the strongman, and he too was one of the most extreme men in the country — he was both tallest and biggest. Pavel was a Polish-American boy of nearly twenty years old, already seven feet tall and still growing. He had a farmwork-toned body that he kept building as they traveled, practicing athletics and lifting sacs of potatoes every time the carnival stopped moving for a few hours. He was a boisterous, adventurous man, domineering and brash, macho and more than a bit intimidating when he wanted to be. He was billed as The Powerfull Pollack of Pennsylvania.

At the flap to Dandy’s tent, Pavel’s thick mustache twitched as he made eye contact with Dandy. He smiled broadly. One of his hands nervously clutched his muscular chest, which he had shaved smooth for today’s show. It glistened white as marble.
“What do you want, Pavel?” Dandy asked. He stood in the entrance to his tent as though he might be able to exclude Pavel from entering. He had to look practically straight up in order to see Pavel, who towered above him. His chest muscles seemed impossibly thick from this angle.
“You’s had bettuh take a nice tone wit’ me, Dandy Littlepants, I’m boutto give you’s a present you’ll enjoy.” Pavel had a deep voice like a bronze bell. It was tinged with both the stawk and holler of his Pittsburgh home, as well as traces of the Polish-American accent of his family. “You’s gonna jump like a junebug, boy!”
“Oh, a present? What is it? Do I have to go somewhere?” Dandy asked. He was much too tired to walk even to the other side of the carnival’s encampment with Pavel, who had such long legs that Dandy had to sprint to keep up with him. To Pavel, that was hilarious. Dandy took a dim view of it.
“No, we’re doing it right here,” Pavel said. “I… I know you is not a believer in the Christian Lord our God. But-“
“I really don’t feel like having a theological discussion, Pavel,” he said, but Pavel wasn’t listening. Dandy had to talk very loud for Pavel to hear him. Most of the carnival was Christian like Pavel, and Dandy’s non-churchgoing attitude did not always sit pretty with the others.
Pavel pushed right in to the tent, oblivious to the fact that Dandy hadn’t invited him in. Dandy sighed. Large men tended to blunder past him like that. Pavel sat in the only chair in the tent, which was too small for him, so he had to wedge his ass into the seat. Dandy stood in front of him with a hand on his petite hips.
“I went to the church in town, yes I did. And I wents muhself to confession, Dandy. You know what that is?”
“Yes, Pavel, I know what confession is,” Dandy said with another sigh. As usual, Pavel was oblivious to his social cues. Dandy tried to sigh when he thought he had Pavel’s attention, but he was thundering right ahead with whatever this was.
“I… confessed some sins… sins of a sexu’l nature, Dandy. That woman back in Missurrah? Remembuh? Well… The priest said to say the hail mary nine times and, uh… the point is he told me to do a few things. One of them was to make a moral invent’ry of muh life, to see what muh sins is and how they have done affected the victims of muh deviance.”
“Deviance? Pavel… are you talking about the women? God’s not going to throw you in hell for-“
“You don’t even believe in God, little man,” he said with a wag of his fingers. “And I’s wearried about it. I needta make muhself feel what them wimmin feel when I plunders ’em. I know… that’s ya speciality. And you’s a li’l guy, it couldn’t hurt that bad wit’choo. I’m hoping I’ll learn-“
“What?! I… You want me to cornhole you?” Dandy opened his eyes wide. Dandy enjoyed touching and laying with men more than he enjoyed sleeping with women.
But he didn’t think Pavel was the same way.
Pavel paused and gulped, the sound of which was impossibly loud to Dandy, it sort of echoed and thrummed out through Pavel’s broad chest. Pavel nodded. His hand clutched his smooth white pectoral muscle, which twitched; its gigantic size attracted Dandy’s attention as it rippled. Pavel scratched at his bare chest, making all of his chest, stomach, side, shoulder and arm muscles tense and flex in turn.
“You make it sound stupid.”
“If that was a part of Catholicism, which it isn’t, it would be stupid. Your priest told you to do this? Are you sure he wasn’t trying to cornhole you? Cuz they do that. You can’t trust priests.”
“Not in so many words, he ain’t say that exactly. He said I needta confront what the victims of muh sin ‘xperienced. This is what I came up with,” he said. His squarish face aimed at the floor of Dandy’s tent.
“There’s a big difference between a woman-” Dandy stopped himself. “Why am I talking you outta this? It’s idiotic, but you’re an idiot, so that checks out.”
“Get bigger, shitwit,” he said with a shy grin.
“Bend over and grab ya ankles,” Dandy said with a laugh. He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt. Pavel sighed as though a part of him had hoped Dandy would say no (but what kind of dandy would say no?).
Of course, Dandy realized as Pavel took off his pants that their size difference was going to make for some awkward positioning. Dandy couldn’t even reach Pavel’s ass without standing on a chest.
Pavel sighed, his chest rattling. It seemed that he was having second thoughts. He hesitated before removing the tan singlet he wore for performances.
“You really wanna do this? I won’t… tell God if you back out,” Dandy said. He couldn’t help but laugh. He had always thought religion was silly — would an omnipresent God make a midget like Dandy? Someone whose body was never meant to be this size? He could feel God’s nonexistence every day in his weak knees and his pained spine, in the doctors who stayed surprised that Dandy was still alive.
Pavel shot him a heated look. “You don’t gotta laugh at me. I believe in God-“
“I know, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Then quit laughing at me ’bout it,” he said. He flared his nostrils. He dropped his underwear, and his massive, uncut cock flopped out. That was why he needed forgiveness — his big dick and bulging muscles attracted women, many of whom were married. Some of them even paid him. That was a basketfull of sins. He rolled his eyes. “Okay… How do you do this?”
Dandy was still trying to figure out the mechanics of it himself. Instinct would take over, he thought. He motioned for Pavel to sit down on the ground, which he did. He plopped his heavy ass on the floor of Dandy’s tent.
But even sitting on his ass, Pavel towered over Dandy, who climbed up to stand on his thighs. That let Dandy grope Pavel’s chest and inhale of the masculine musk he exuded.
The thick muscle of his hairy legs was like a rock beneath his feet. His pecs and their hard nipples were right there in front of Dandy’s face. The left breast was tattooed with the red and white flag of Pavel’s native Poland. Dandy kissed each pec in turn, his petite fingers massaging the powerful muscles of Pavel’s chest and shoulders.
Pavel giggled like a schoolboy, his booming laughter audible through his chest. It rattled around in Dandy’s tiny skull. He felt awkward, but the more Dandy groped those gigantic slabs of Polish muscle, the more aroused he was. He dropped his own shorts and let his rapidly hardening dick swing free.
Then he jumped up to Pavel’s neck. Pavel oomphed as Dandy gripped his neck and lifted himself up. He didn’t mean to choke Pavel — he just wanted to kiss him on the lips — but that was exactly what happened.
Pavel sputtered and dropped Dandy onto the ground. He shook his head. “What the hell-?”
“Sorry, I was trying to kiss you! Come down here,” Dandy said.
Pavel shook his head but did so. He lowered his neck, then had to get down on his belly on the ground. Only then could he get his head low enough to easily kiss Dandy on the lips. He puckered like he was sucking on a lemon as he did.
After all the fuss, the kiss was crude and passionless, anticlimactic. Once again, however, what Dandy missed in enthusiasm was more than made up for by the thrill of touching the man’s huge muscles. Dandy stroked his broad shoulders, each blade of which was as big as Dandy’s entire chest. He plunged his tongue into Pavel’s mouth. Pavel was still, his tongue laying limp like a dead fish at first, but after a few moments, it moved around some. Their tongues interlocked as Pavel’s bristly mustache — which seemed impossibly huge, thicker than Dandy’s own forearm even though it never looked that big from a distance — scratched at Dandy’s face.
The muscular lines on Pavel’s back beckoned. Dandy had always loved staring at Pavel’s back muscles; he didn’t know why, but something was appealing about those perfectly smooth, looping curves. He kissed Pavel’s smooth chin, then around to the back of his neck. He lowered his head, kissing the dimpled skin atop his spine, as Dandy’s fingers gripped his flesh.
Pavel lowered himself until he lay flat on his belly on the ground of Dandy’s tent. Outside Mariella — the bearded lady — cleared her throat as she began warming up her voice. She practiced singing every night, still hoping a professional opera company would look past her beard and hire her. It made Dandy giggle, because her fancy opera was going to be a strange score for his and Pavel’s fumbling.
Dandy’s mouth reached the small of Pavel’s back. Dandy stopped there for a moment and kneaded the copious flesh of Pavel’s plump asscheeks. Then Dandy dived between them.
Pavel gasped — it sounded like he had no idea this was coming. He likely had never got or even asked a woman to lick his ass, so he might have been unaware it was possible.
Dandy’s head disappeared between those massive cheeks, hairy and musty and dripping with sweat from the day’s workout. Dandy licked up every drop as his tongue explored the nooks and crannies of Pavel’s ass. The taste was sour and sweet, with a flavor that Dandy could only describe as pure, unadulterated manhood.
Then his tongue entered the grimy rim, and an explosion of masculine flavor overwhelmed Dandy. He moaned with desire, which made Pavel laugh and arch his back. Pavel’s cheeks separated and his hole loosened to allow Dandy’s tongue better entrance.
This was one area where Dandy didn’t feel his size made a difference. Pavel’s asshole was as tight as a small man’s, and Dandy’s tongue struggled to push inside just the same as it did with any other person’s. For a moment, Dandy could nearly forget his stature.
It felt so intensely pleasurable to Pavel that he sucked in his breath and held it as he lifted his ass, making Dandy’s tiny body chase it. He groaned and grunted as he submitted to Dandy’s tongue-bath. He even bit his lip as intense sensations roiled his muscles. It wasn’t very long before his ass was too high for Dandy to lick it.
That was okay with him. He was ready to move on. As Pavel lifted his ass up, his heavy cock and balls dangled. Dandy scooted beneath him, his tongue tracing a trail from his ass to those hairy ballsacks.
He tried to get the entire hairy sac and both balls in his mouth, but Pavel was too big. One ball took up all of Dandy’s mouth, and the folds of hairy, sweat-dripping flesh enveloped Dandy’s face. He didn’t mind; it felt like Pavel’s body was all-encompassing, his heavy-hanging sac spreading to every aspect of Dandy’s perception. His little tongue snaked out and caressed the sensitive flesh of Pavel’s scrotum.
Pavel yelped and squirmed. “Oh God!” he cried out. His dick was rock-hard now, and Dandy wanted nothing more than to suck him dry. He could feel all the tasty cum brewing up in those balls, which pulsated in and on his mouth.
But Dandy knew he wouldn’t have many opportunities to do more than that. There were a lot of muscular guys who would let a dandy jerk them off. There weren’t many who would let Dandy be on top.
So Dandy just licked up the veiny shaft of Pavel’s dick, then continued licking the best he could up Pavel’s chest. Pavel was on all fours, with Dandy standing beneath his chest and the floor, as though Pavel’s body was Dandy’s new tent-within-a-tent.
He crawled up to the chair that Pavel had sat in. With Pavel on all fours, his head was right around the chair’s height. That meant he could swallow Dandy’s dick while Dandy sat on the edge of the seat.
People were often impressed by Dandy’s dick size, he showed it off to strangers sometimes who insinuated he couldn’t measure up to taller men’s manhood. It was big, at more than six inches, but Dandy knew that wasn’t really remarkably big — it seemed that way because Dandy was so short. His dick was nearly a quarter of his body’s height, and it stretched to his knees.
Pavel was clearly surprised by its heft now that it was in front of his face. He screwed up his eyes, looked away and opened his mouth. Dandy was already rock-hard when he pushed his dick down Pavel’s throat.
Dandy moaned. Most men had trouble deep-throating his dick, but Pavel was so big that his throat was vast. He swallowed the whole thing easily even as his body gagged and rejected it. It slid down his throat until his nose was buried in Dandy’s crotch hair. Pavel’s muscles all flexed at once, undulating with each sputtering choke.
The sensation for Dandy was incredible, like his dick was massaged by all of those strapping muscles, which writhed before his eyes. He gripped Pavel’s shoulders, then grabbed his thick mop of black hair. Using his tiny fingers and delicate hands, Dandy guided Pavel up and down on his dick.
The sound of Pavel’s moist sputtering filled the tent, and the smell of prejazz followed it. Dandy wondered if Mariella — whose clumsy Italian phrasing emanated from outside — could smell it. Probably not, he thought, as she bathed in perfume every day. Dandy leaned his head back and groaned as pleasure wrapped over his body.
His hands seemed impossibly tiny next to Pavel’s head, which he gripped and led up and down on his shaft. Spit dripped down to his root. Every few seconds, Pavel gagged when Dandy’s cock hit the back of his throat. His petite fingers gripped Pavel’s massive cheeks to hold him in place. Dandy was used to being short, so it wasn’t often that he was bothered by these disparities in size anymore, but Pavel was so massively huge that Dandy couldn’t help but feel conscious of it. He loved the feeling of power he got, however, from his weak little arms pushing Pavel’s massive Pollack head up and down.
Pavel licked Dandy’s cockshaft, his giant head moving along with his tongue up and down. Dandy’s dick jerked and spasmed, and Dandy yelped as arousal overcame him. He had to force himself to pull away to avoid shooting his load right then.
Wanting to move on before he blew his jazz early, Dandy pulled out. Pavel gasped and said something breathlessly in Polish — it sounded like he was expressing his dislike for the taste of Dandy’s cock, but Dandy didn’t bother asking him to say it in English.
“Turn around,” Dandy said. “Lemme at your ass.” He smiled as Pavel sighed, wincing and blanching. He turned around, remaining on all fours, backing his wide ass up to the chair where Dandy still sat.
His ass was right at chair-height, but Dandy couldn’t lean off the chair and support himself that way, he’d probably fall. He hesitated before simply jumping off the chair and landing right on Pavel’s bottom. He held on like a drowning man clinging to the liferaft of Pavel’s sweaty back muscles.
Pavel lowered his head, while Dandy lined his crotch up with Pavel’s ass. He didn’t have much leverage in this position, since he had to lean on Pavel’s heft as he pushed his dick between those perfectly juicy cheeks.
He shuddered as his dick slid inside. Pavel’s ass was loosened and moistened by Dandy’s spit earlier, so now Dandy could get the first few inches of his meat inside easily. A wave of pleasure suffused Dandy’s body. He couldn’t help but moan. It felt so good his knees went weak, and he would have fallen if he weren’t relying on Pavel’s body for support.
Then Pavel’s muscles all tensed at once and stayed that way; his asshole clenched and he bit down hard on his upper lip. He growled and muttered something Dandy couldn’t hear because of Mariella’s blasted opera singing from the tent next door.
“Relax, Pavel, relax your ass. You’re doing fine,” Dandy said. He lightly stroked Pavel’s back.
Pavel breathed heavily through gritted teeth. He snorted and shook his head, and his ass bloomed into laxity again, just long enough for Dandy to ram another few inches in.
“Damn, Dandy… I thought you’d have a small dick,” he said. He chuckled as his face turned red. “Did you kill a big man and take his dick?”
“Yes,” Dandy said. He laughed at Pavel’s pained reaction. “You still don’t have to do this, you know. The whole idea is idiotic. God won’t love you more because of this-“
“Just finish up, little man. God supports a sacrifice,” he said. His voice was weak and pinched by pain.
Dandy grunted as he nodded and pumped his hips. He forced the last few inches of his dick inside, sighing when he actually felt his dick disappear into Pavel. Pavel had such a thick ass that a substantial part of Dandy’s dick didn’t actually enter the hole — Dandy simply couldn’t separate those asscheeks enough for his little body to get in there, especially with his feet not even being on the floor, as he still had no leverage.
It was all he could do to hump like a dog. He flexed his hips, slamming his entire little body down with every thrust on Pavel’s ass, the cheeks of which flapped and jiggled each time he descended. His fingers formed tight little balls, and his nails dug into the flesh of Pavel’s back.
“Normally,” Dandy said, panting and breathless. “I’d give you a reacharound. You can probably guess what that means. But my arms are way too short.” To demonstrate that, Dandy reached around Pavel, but his hands barely made it past his hips. He couldn’t even get to Pavel’s thick pubic hair much less touch his dick.
“You’re short? I never noticed,” Pavel said, his laughter hidden by the agony evident in his voice. “I just always figured there was more of you that you kept locked safely away.”
“Why don’t you jack yourself off?”
Pavel laughed, then cut off his own laughter. He made a strained and pained sound. “I can’t, little man. It hurts. I couldn’t get hard right now if I wanted to.”
“You sure about that?” From his vantage point, Dandy couldn’t see Pavel’s dick, but he had a strong suspicion about it. He knew there was a spot in every man’s ass that, when touched, triggered intense physical arousal. He was certain he had been hitting that spot. Due to the pain, Pavel hadn’t noticed. But when Pavel shifted from all-fours to just-threes, leaning to the side so one of his hands could grab his dick, he yelped in surprise to find it was hard and throbbing.
“Well… I ain’t see that comin’.”
“Big men never do,” Dandy said. He spoke through gritted teeth now too because Pavel had shifted to using just three limbs to support himself and in turn to support Dandy. That meant his body was not flat anymore, and Dandy had to clutch desperately at his flesh to avoid falling to the floor.
Somehow, despite the awkwardness of the positioning — or maybe because of it — Dandy felt his orgasm coming on. He humped wildly at Pavel’s ass, which was now loose enough that he could go for it with abandon. His balls slapped against the man’s flesh, the sound becoming impossibly loud.
As his climax erupted, Dandy could feel Pavel shooting his own load at the same time. The most intense orgasm of his life overwhelmed Dandy. He moaned, making a sound that was, to him, a loud shout. It was buried in the meat of Pavel’s lower back, however, as a minimal grunt from Pavel exploded and reverberated in the tiny tent.
Cum flowed into Pavel like water from a hose. Dandy shot more cum than he ever had before, and he could tell that Pavel’s load was similarly impressive, even if he couldn’t see it. Dandy shuddered, and every motion he made caused a wave of sensitive pleasure and exquisite bliss to flow up Pavel’s spine.
Dandy didn’t know how long he lay there, clutching Pavel’s flesh for support as he clung on like a puppy holding onto its mother’s scruff. His post-orgasmic daze only ended when Mariella finished her song, and the sound was replaced by Sandell, the head clown, barking orders at the other clowns — they were practicing their new act.
Letting out a sigh of relief as he slid down, Dandy’s cock left a trail of assjuice and cum clinging to Pavel’s thick thighs. Dandy’s knees were weak with the power of his orgasm. As soon as his ass was empty, Pavel collapsed to the ground in an exhausted heap of sweaty flesh.
Dandy sat next to him, using his back for support. He lay across Pavel’s shoulder and kissed his muscles there. “Do you feel forgiveness, Pavel?”
“I ain’t sure. I… I thought it might weaken muh desires for female flesh,” he said softly, or as softly as he could manage with that booming bass voice. “But I fear it has only done add to muh desire.” He chuckled.
“We’ll have to try again to find out,” Dandy said.

The Circus Strongman

The Littlest Dandy is a flamboyant circus impresario, while Pavel is the muscle-bound strongman who travels alongside him. When Pavel suffers spiritually, Dandy is eager to help, even if that means getting a piece of Pavel’s powerful backside!

Can Pavel bend over and take what Dandy has to offer?

Read it now as an ebook! Or read it on this website!

Buck the Dumbass: Chapter 3

Buck the Dumbass

Chapter One: Ann Arbor, 1999

Chapter Two: Peremptory Manhood

Chapter Three: Statistics 101

Chapter Four: Systems of Oppression

Chapter Five: Lung Stuff

Buck laid a smackdown upon this twerpy white thang with a name too big fer his trouser-pants, which he sagged like a yo’ boy. He was MC Nutty or some dumbass college-boy wannabe Vanilla Ice shit like that, and he got loud all night, hooting at the waitresses. Buck hadta go tell him classy-like to keep his voice down. The man looked subduified by Buck’s bigness and firm words, but after couple more drinks, he got gropey as a octopus upon a waitress. Buck don’t like a man who treat a woman unproper, so’n he planked the fuzz outta him. He drug him sputtering, bloody-nosed and bruising up, into the back alley and deposited him beside the dumpster.
And then he went back to his eternal post at the door. Nuttin’ much happened after that. Nary the customers or waitresses axed about the man, MC Nutbag. In the alley, the man musta got up, cuz he was gone when Buck went to piss on him later. He been looking forward to that, so’s now he got nuttin’ to do the resta the night, unless’n one the remaindering broh boys got fresh. They simmered on low though, all night long, and Buck was dreary to droop by the time Teddy called last call.
Damn but bouncering was a boring-ass job lotta the time. T’was more boring than prison somehow. ‘Least in prison, a feller knows he gonna have nuttin’ to do fer the foreseeable. Ain’t nuttin’ gonna change that. Outsidea prison, here at Lipsweet, sump’in better was always right ’round the corner, a corner Buck couldn’t go round cuz he was stuck at the dingdarn door.
T’was enough to remind Buck of school. School gave him that same feeling, that he be jumping thru pointless hoops steada living a life with meaning.
Buck always did struggle in school, and he only barely graduated. The only parta school life that felt right was the wrestling team. His coaches ensured he ain’t waste time upon schoolwork, which was good, cuz Buck woulda dropped out if’n he gotta do his work. They even put him in a college-prep class, and then he was recruited by GHU fer they wrestling team. That was what brung him to Ann Arbor in the first place back in the 80s.
‘Course, even when he was a college student, he ain’t do nary his coursework. Officially, Buck done earn mosta his degree in physical education. Ne’er got a diploma though.
In Buck’s freshman year, he got a tutor name Donovan, this sniveling spectacled knowitall who be eye-gauging Buck up a retard. At first, Buck ain’t care ’bout them looks. He got bigger things on his mind — tourneyments, coeds, lunch.
The longer his freshman year went on, the more Donovan discomfitted Buck. They was both freshmen, though Buck was older cuz he got held back loads in school. Donovan scowled at that when he found out, like he thought Buck shouldn’t-a been allowed to come to GHU cuzza his school record. He always talked like he was struggling not to sneer in Buck’s direction.
Donovan was a stick of a nerd in Buck’s gaze though, weak as a thimble in the stormy sea. He was short and beaky-nosed and soft-spoke, and he was kinda feminine in a weird way. It made Buck wanna give him a wedgie.
But he resisted the urge.
He got back to the team house after practice one afternoon, and Donovan was there upon the front porch waiting fer him. He got a superior arch to his brow.
“I have your stat homework.”
“Mah what?”
“Stat homework,” Donovan said with a harsh snap.

Buck got no idear what that meant — he first heered I have ya’s at homework, which ain’t make sense, and he ain’t connect stat to his statistics class, which he ne’er done attend. He was only vaguely aware that statistics had to do with like percents and shit. Finally, after a awkward pause, Buck said, “Yeah,” as though that was obvious. He took the homework from Donovan. Why’d he make that so difficult? Both Buck and Donovan thought that as they separated. Donovan scurried back to his dorm.

Meanwhile, Buck went inside, where’n his wrestling-team buddies was sitting round drinking beer and talking ’bout girls. T’was a endlessly fruitful topic round here. Buck got into it with ’em, and they discussed the merits of tits versus legs versus ass all evening long, till some real ladies showed up from Omega house to parade ’round they tits, legs and asses.
In a’ry case, once him and t’other wrestlers filled they moist womanhoods up, Buck and t’other wrestlers got sleepy. The Omega girls went back to they house so’s they wouldn’t get in trouble, and Buck was slumbering fulla snores in his room. When Donovan came o’er with a page of stat homework he done forget to include b’fore, Buck remained sound asleep in his room.
“Buck. Hey, Buck, wake up,” Donovan said. He touched Buck’s broad chest, only slightly hairy then cuz he was a young man still. His pecs were firm and round, like a man in a movie — Donovan went to a small private school fulla skinny nerds with pocket protectors and thick-rimmed glasses; Donovan was virtually a jock there. Even the gym teacher had a degree in kinesiology. Donovan ain’t ne’er seen a man with real pecs b’fore.
Them pics rippled ‘neath Donovan’s fingers. He sucked in his breath. His hands explored Buck’s bare chest, dappled with the remains of fucksweat and Omega-babe juices.
Buck’s eyes blinked open, and he stirred. He was bleary, his breath reeking of skunk beer. He belched in Donovan’s face. Though Buck done awake, Donovan was still touching his chest. Them heavyweight muscles all flexed at once, but Donovan ain’t stop. He full-on groped Buck’s muscles like Coach Walker when he gave a massage (he gave very rough massages with painfully callused fingers).
“I forgot to give you one of the pages of your stat homework,” Donovan said.
Buck shrugged. “‘Kay.” He closed his eyes again. T’weren’t clear he was aware of what Donovan said or even who was speaking to him right now. His muscles kept rippling though, which entranced Donovan.
A feminine giggle escaped from Donovan’s lips. God damn Buck was an idiot, he thought. Donovan’s father let him get drunk once a few months ago, so’s he could do it once b’fore coming to college. He said only idiots get pass-out drunk. Buck and his jock buddies did it e’ery weekend and some weekdays.
And Buck was huge! Imagine how much he hadta drink to get that drunk.
When even Donovan’s giggles didn’t wake Buck up, he slowly, gently pulled Buck’s underwear down. Since he lay on his back upon his bed, Donovan couldn’t get the underwear all the way down — Buck was much too heavy. He did lower his tight-whites enough to bare his massive cock, which made Donovan’s eyes bug out.
That thang was more’an a foot long!
That was why he admired to tutor Buck in the first place, after all, cuz he heered rumors that he had a giant dick. The rumors came from both women Donovan overheard when him and his nerdy friends peeped on the women’s locker room as well as from one friend who showered and changed with Buck in the men’s locker room. He ain’t believed it.
But here it was, in his grip, so hefty t’was actually heavy. It throbbed and pulsated, veiny and knobby. Donovan’s dick was smooth as porcelain in comparison. Was cocks sposeda to be vein-shafted knobbly clubs like Buck’s? Donovan ain’t know.
Buck’s shaft flopped left and right in Donovan’s hand, while he sucked in his breath and checked if’n Buck would awake. He ain’t. He slumbered like a log, and his dick remained limp as could be.

Donovan ain’t mind that. He liked the heft of it. It felt right in his hands. T’was as thick as Donovan’s wrist. He bent o’er and put the tip of it in his mouth, and Buck still ain’t respond.

It tasted salty with old sweat — and from the Omega cheerleader who came by so’s Buck could fuck her, but Donovan ain’t know about her and ne’er tasted no cheerleader pussyjuice, so’s he got no frame of reference — and it made Donovan’s whole body tingle. He ain’t ne’er taste nuttin’ like this. T’was warm and soft at first, but as Donovan ran his tongue up and down the shaft, it slowly firmed up in his grasp.
A snort came outta Buck’s fat nose, but he ain’t wake up. His cock twitched in Donovan’s mouth. It stayed soft though.
T’ain’t stay soft fer long. Donovan ain’t know Buck done blow three loads in Omega-babe snatch couple hours back, but he was young enough then that his balls was already full-up again. His cock was a-mite slow to rouse. Once Donovan started working his hand up and down though, tongue exploring the piss-slit and slathering spit upon the tip, it firmed up bit by bit.
He kept stroking Buck’s dick until t’was hard. T’was even thicker now, and Buck stirred slightly but he ain’t wake up. Donovan slurped upon the tip until his spit ran down the shaft into Buck’s crotch hair.
Taking his own clothes off, Donovan felt a twinge of embarrassment at his skinny frame and small dick — neither of which was notable — Donovan weren’t ‘specially skinny and his cock was normal-sized, but he looked tiny next to Buck. Donovan was glad ain’t nobody wakeful to see though. His own dick done got hard, and it pulsated in his grip. He straddled Buck and rubbed his manhood upon Buck’s much bigger shaft. Donovan frotted both cocks together until his own was leaking precum. Buck’s dick spat much more prejizz, and his was extra strong-tasting, salty and sweaty.
Cum sprayed o’er Buck’s chest. Since Buck was asleep, Donovan was surprised by it, Buck’s stony face giving no cues t’was coming. A long and continuous flow roped o’er and o’er onto his pecs, and then Donovan rammed his mouth back upon Buck’s knob.
A sleepy moan came outta Buck’s throat, same time as another wad of jizz spurted out. Donovan caught mosta it in his mouth.
Great gobs of jizz exploded into his Donovan’s throat. He couldn’t swallow it, so’n it instantly overflowed and spilled onto Buck’s legs. Some got upon his thick thighs and ran onto the bedsheets below.
Just when Donovan thought Buck was done and pulled off, a jerk hit Buck’s body, and his hands fluttered, then falled limp again, and a final cumwad sprayed Donovan in his open, gasping mouth. It spilled o’er his face and onto the mattress below.
All that cum dripped off Donovan’s face. T’was warm and gooey, and he savored the feel of it drying there, as his sopping-wet hands rubbed Buck’s limpening meat. T’was so long it took both his hands, and if’n he’d had a third, he coulda used that too.
When Buck’s glistening cock was soft again, Donovan finally pulled off it. He frotted his dick upon Buck’s limpness. T’was hot and sopping wet. Cum dripped down Buck’s pecs and streaked his six-pack abs.
He was sound asleep now. “Sleepy-deeping” — Donovan done heered Buck say that last month. T’was one of his redneckisms, which lotta men thought was funny, maybe women too. Donovan discottoned to rednecks though.
“Good night, Buck,” Donovan said softly. His hands smeared cum all o’er Buck’s chest and even onto his face. Buck wrinkled his crooked nose, but he ain’t respond. Jizz clung milkily upon his cheeks and his square jaw.
Donovan stood up and laughed under his breath. Buck was like a rock now, passed out. He done seem deeply asleep couple minutes ago, but now, Donovan could tell he was out fer the night. That orgasm put him under.
So’n Donovan could do whatever he admired to Buck’s wrestler muscles. He held back another giggle, more outta habit than stealth — if’n Buck were wakeful, he’d prolly tease Donovan fer giggling like a girl. But nobody was around, so’s Donovan could giggle all he wanted as he massaged Buck’s massive biceps and broad shoulders.
His dick poked Buck in his stomach, which was just slightly too meaty to be a perfect six-pack — when he cut weight fer wrestling, he sometimes had a six-pack, but Buck was naturally beefy. Donovan’s dick jabbed Buck in the sternum, and Donovan humped his pecs, holding onto Buck’s massive head fer support.
Then he worked his way up Buck’s thick neck to his chin and face. Donovan’s cock dabbed precum onto Buck’s nose and upper lip. When Buck still slept on, Donovan rammed his cock into Buck’s open, ready-to-snore mouth. Buck choked, and Donovan panicked. He pulled his cock out.
But Buck stayed sleeping.
After a couple seconds, Donovan again let his throbbing-hard cock touch Buck’s chin and lower lip. No response. The scruff of Buck’s unshaven cheeks scratched at Donovan’s shaft. Like most college freshmen, Donovan didn’t need-a shave e’ery day and didn’t get scruff like that.
‘Course, Buck was old fer a freshman.
Donovan pushed his dick back in Buck’s waiting mouth, and Buck remained still as a eggplant. His tongue lay flat and moist, waiting fer Donovan to hump his gooey shaft ‘long the top of it. His cock slid into Buck’s throat. Donovan could easily push the whole shaft down there, as Buck was so big his mouth was huge. Donovan gasped.
Precum flowed into Buck’s mouth, and Donovan intended to pull out to prolong this, but b’fore’n he could think, an orgasm overcame him. A cumwad spurted into Buck’s mouth, then his second jizz coated Buck’s square jaw and face. A moist choke came outta Buck’s unconscious body, which spat Donovan’s dick out mid-orgasm.
“Oh god…” Donovan wondered if’n this was what sex was like. It felt so good, like milk chocolate flowed thru his veins. He had to hold onto Buck’s solid shoulders fer support. He wanna get his cock back into Buck’s mouth, but it felt so incredible Donovan couldn’t coordinate his movements well enough. He rammed Buck in his stony face and spurted wad after wad o’er goo o’er his crooked nose and square cheeks. He got the tip in Buck’s hot mouth again, only fer Buck’s throat to instinctively choke it back out. Donovan sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth as his final jizz coated Buck’s forehead and even reached the bottom of his mullet behind his nape.
Donovan kept stroking his limp dick until e’ery last drop had dribbled onto Buck’s chin or into the peach fuzz upon his chest. He was hairy fer a college student. Donovan rubbed his dick in Buck’s chest hair too. He’d ne’er felt anythang like that — Buck wasn’t as hairy as he was as an old man, but fer a college freshman, he might as well have been sasquatch.
When Donovan was soft, he got paranoid about being caught. He pulled up his pants in a hurry, suddenly certain Buck was gonna wake up soon. Donovan scurried out into the night.
And the best part was, Donovan thought, that Buck was too dumb to realize why he was so sticky in the morning.

Buck the Dumbass

Chapter One: Ann Arbor, 1999

Chapter Two: Peremptory Manhood

Chapter Three: Statistics 101

Chapter Four: Systems of Oppression

Chapter Five: Lung Stuff

Rob’s World of Men: Chapter Nine

Read it now as an ebook from your favorite ebookstore!

Rob’s World of Men

Chapter One: The American

Chapter Two: The Frenchman

Chapter Three: The Swede

Chapter Four: The Russian

Chapter Five: The Australian

Chapter Six: The German

Chapter Seven: The Turk

Chapter Eight: The Englishman

Chapter Nine: The Finn

Chapter Ten: The Italian

Rob finally settled in at the public sauna in Rovaniemi, Finland, one afternoon to relax. Only one other person was in the sauna, and he was intimidating.
The other man in the sauna stared at him, sweat dripping from his high cheekbones. He was a tall Finn with deep-set eyes, a grizzled jaw and muscles that went on for days. He looked like a shaved brown bear, Rob thought, except for the fact that the hair on his head — long, flowing hair that went past his broad shoulders — was blond like the sun. Rob had always thought men with long hair were sexy, and this guy also had muscle like a bodybuilder and a square, jutting jaw.
Rob shivered. He hadn’t been scared of anyone since coming to Finland. It was a very quiet, peaceful place.
But this man had a dim stare and muscle for days. He was both arousing and frightening. Rob wanted to stay and worship his body carved in granite.
A part of him said to leave, begged him to rush out of there before this burly Finn attacked him. He could dress in a hurry, rush out the door and high-tail it to his car in the parking lot. He could call the police, but to say what: there’s a man looking at me? There’s a Finn in the sauna, help!?
Besides, Rob had been chased around by a bunch of bullies in his time. He didn’t intend to let that happen again; he wasn’t the weakest boy in school anymore. He had never met a mean Finn, but maybe, he thought, this burly fellow would be his first. If so, Rob intended to stand up for himself.
The long-haired Finn stood and took a step towards Rob, whose heart raced. He was a thin little twink who couldn’t defend himself at all.
“Hello,” said the man in thickly-accented English. His craggy face gleamed with sweat in the haze of the sauna’s löyly.
“Uh… Hi,” Rob said. When had the sauna emptied? There were others here when Rob came in, but now it was just he and the big Finn, and Rob was terrified.
“My name is Heikki.”

“Nice to meet you, Heikki. I’m Rob,” he said. He held out a hand to shake, and when Heikki’s giant meaty paw collided with his, Rob shuddered in both fear and desire. Heikki was like a bodybuilder but without that vascular veininess that bodybuilders had. Heikki looked like he had built his muscles through real work, as a lumberjack or ice fisherman or who knew what. Rob had never felt so slender and weak.

Heikki grunted. “You are… American, yes?”
“Yes, that’s right…” Rob was too nervous to think of anything meaningful to say right now.
“That is good,” said Heikki. His deep voice rumbled. It was flat though, deadpan, giving no hint of his emotions, his voice as still and rough as uncut lumber. “You will do have some jack off. Yes?”
“Uh…” Rob couldn’t tell if that was an offer, a prediction, a threat or a question, or some combination thereof.
Heikki walked away. Rob breathed a sigh of relief until he saw that Heikki wasn’t leaving. He walked to the door to the sauna and wedged it shut with a kantele — a traditional stringed instrument — against the doorknob. The kantele had been laying on a bench as though abandoned there.
Past the door was the “hot room”, where Finns got acclimated to heat before actually coming into the sauna itself. It didn’t sound like anyone was out there right now, making Rob nervous. He was in here all alone with his giant man built like a silver birch tree, who looked at him as if Rob were a hungry meal.
“Uh…” Rob’s eyes opened wide at the sight of Heikki flopping his massive uncut cock between his fingers. “You want me to, uh… like jack your dick? Or whatever?” Rob said.
“Yes, I think we are agreementing,” Heikki said.
“You’re horny enough to…?” Rob’s voice trailed off because he realized he didn’t care why Heikki wanted to do this.
Rob shuddered when he reached up and tentatively grabbed Heikki’s cock. It was limp and moist from the humid sauna air, dripping with condensed löyly. Heikki’s muscles rippled like he was uncomfortable with Rob’s touch, but he sat down next to Rob on the wooden bench of the sauna.
Before Rob could get on his knees to jack Heikki’s cock, Heikki’s mitt-like hands gripped Rob’s delicate shoulders. Rob nearly fell backwards but Heikki held him in his massive biceps as Rob swooned. Then Heikki kissed him right on the lips.
It was an awkward kiss for a few reasons. First of all, Heikki seemed to have little experience with this — he seemed like the kind of rural lumberjack who rarely got laid despite his handsome face and bulging muscles; he was too crude and big for most girls, Rob suspected. Second of all, Heikki was clearly uncomfortable kissing a man. He hesitated at the last moment and his callused fingers explored Rob’s lithe chest as though Heikki expected to find breasts there. Thirdly, Heikki was simply huge.
He was at least a foot and a half taller than Rob, and probably outweighed him by two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Rob lost himself in those arms, and Heikki’s mouth was so big it felt like four Heikkis could have kissed him at the same time. Rob wondered if Heikki could swallow his entire head — it sure felt like it.
Heikki’s massive tongue pushed into Rob’s mouth. It was too awkward for Rob to lose himself in the heat of the moment, but his dick was rock-hard and he couldn’t think about anything other than the feel of Heikki’s pulsating muscles against Rob’s smooth skin.
When Heikki pulled away and grinned sheepishly, Rob reached into his crotch and gave his dick another stroke. Heikki was still totally limp. His dick was like a fleshy uncooked sausage dangling between his legs, behind a nest of curly dark-blond pubic hairs.
The löyly that condensed on Heikki’s body was salty and invigorating, hot like the sauna itself. It made Rob moan and crave more.
His tongue traced the outline of Heikki’s rock-hard muscles and the colorful tattoos — a squadron of beautiful blue butterflies flapping with wings the shape of kantele picks, an ornate Finnish maiden with blonde braids flowing like a Finnhorse’s mane around her blue and white pastoral dress — as he explored and worshiped Heikki’s muscles.
Rob stood and stretched his knees — about to sink to the ground to jack on Heikki’s meat — when Heikki dropped to his knees in front of Rob instead. He kissed Rob on the lips again, then moved to Rob’s neck, which he nuzzled with his slightly grizzled chin.
Their heights nearly matched up now, with Heikki on his knees on the ground and Rob standing in front of him. Heikki’s head was only a little above Rob’s.
Much to Rob’s surprise, Heikki’s hand gingerly grabbed Rob’s dick. He gave it a few strokes, until precum leaked from the tip.
“Oh, wow, Heikki…” Rob blushed. He felt tiny. His cock was substantial, bigger than most men, but, compared to Heikki, every part of Rob felt small and weak. Heikki’s massive hand stroked Rob off. When Rob was overcome by shocked passion, he leaned on Heikki’s massive chest, reminding Rob how tiny he was in comparison. Heikki’s muscles rippled beneath Rob’s touch.
But Rob assumed that that was where this ended, as far as Heikki pleasuring Rob went. Now Heikki would stand and want to blow a nut off. He’d probably plow Rob’s mouth violently like macho guys usually did — that was fine with Rob, who loved it when men like Heikki abused his throat.
“You are smooth like girl and tasty on my tongue,” Heikki said as he kissed Rob’s arm and shoulders. He licked a trail of sensitive skin all the way down Rob’s chest, as Rob wondered where he would stop.
Was this really going to happen? A part of Rob’s mind had realized for several minutes that Heikki acted as though he was going to bottom, but that had been difficult to believe. It simply didn’t happen that way. Rob barely knew how to top. He had never in his entire life been on top with a man who was so much bigger than he was.
Then before Rob could process this, Heikki opened his mouth and swallowed Rob’s cock. He gagged right away as though he regretted doing it, then he let out a loud mewling sound around Rob’s dickshaft.
Rob was already hard, and his dick instantly sent pangs of pleasure up Rob’s spine. Rob drew in his breath and found he couldn’t bring himself to exhale, like he was worried anything he might do would remind Heikki that he is supposed to be a top.
His hands moved instinctively, and Rob found himself running his fingers through Heikki’s long blond hair. Rob had never felt anything so silken and beautiful, and the writhing mass of shoulder muscles beneath it made it even hotter.
“Ah, damn, Heikki, where did you learn to do this?” Rob murmured, gasping to himself.
Heikki pulled away and spoke in Finnish. “Haluan sinun naida persettäni!”
Rob had learned a few words here and there, but he had no idea what Heikki said. He smiled and nodded, though this experience had been so stressful and exhilarating that Rob’s smile was more of a grimace.
Heikki returned to jacking. It was awkward for him, having to stoop down to get into Rob’s crotch. To make it easier, Rob stepped up onto the wooden bench he had been sitting on. At last that meant Rob towered over Heikki, who was on his knees on the floor. Heikki could more easily jack cock, while Rob rested on his broad shoulders and massaged the tight layer of back muscles beneath him.
Then at last Heikki pulled off him again. He lightly tapped Rob’s asscheeks. He turned Rob around. Rob’s instinct was that this was it, Heikki wanted to top now, he was going to cornhole Rob — which Rob was fine with, even if he was a little disappointed that his topping adventure ended so soon.
But Heikki didn’t cornhole him in the ass. He dove his face between Rob’s cheeks and licked his asshole. Heikki shuddered in a mixture of delight and disgust as his tongue lapped at Rob’s ass. Due to the heat and humidity of the sauna’s löyly, both men were covered in salty moisture, and Heikki guzzled down every drop that clung to Rob’s flesh.
That didn’t last long before Heikki pulled away again. His big, callused hands roamed all over Rob’s body. He pushed Rob to sit back down on the bench.
Heikki stood and stretched his legs. Now that he stood and Rob sat, Rob’s face was well below Heikki’s crotch. Rob had to look up at him like a colossus, half-hard cock throbbing in the air as Heikki added more water to the hot coals on top of the the kiuas. A fresh burst of steam filled the air. He munched on some reindeer jerky from a bag he had brought in and left by the door.
“It is good warm. Air is good for skin,” Heikki said. He may have blushed or his cheeks might have just gotten rosier from the heat, Rob couldn’t tell which.
Then Heikki took a deep breath, sighed and shook his head as he kneeled down on the ground. He sprawled his upper body over the bench Rob was sitting on. Rob was entranced by the looping curves of the man’s incredible shoulder muscles, and Rob’s delicate fingers traced the powerful, throbbing lines of his meaty shoulderblades.
Even though Heikki had made it clear he wanted to bottom, Rob’s tingled, shocked body still didn’t quite process what was happening, not right away. Heikki sprawled out on the bench next to Rob with his ass in the air — Heikki was so tall that even knelt over, his upraised ass was well above Rob’s navel.
It was obvious he wanted to get cornholed, but Rob hesitated. What if he was misreading this situation? What if he accidentally offended Heikki by trying to plow into his ass?
But then Heikki reached one of his big-biceped arms around himself and rammed his pinkie into his ass to loosen it up. He grunted and his whole body tensed at first, then he relaxed.
Taking a deep breath, Rob mounted him from behind. “You gotta lower your ass some,” he said as he patted Heikki’s jiggling asscheeks. Heikki obediently lowered his hips until his ass was even with Rob’s crotch. That forced Heikki to awkwardly half-bend and half-stoop over the bench, but he didn’t seem to mind.
His mind reeled as he slipped his dick into Heikki’s ass. Heikki howled like a wolf, and Rob again wondered if he had done something wrong. But Heikki made no effort to move away, and Rob could tell that Heikki’s cock jerked from half-hard to stone-like and leaking precum. He must be into assplay, Rob thought.
Heikki bit his lip and his muscles tensed all at once. He grunted, half-in-pain and half gasping with pleasure. It was like cornholing a statue, Rob thought, all firm and unyielding. Rob couldn’t get a good grip, though he greatly enjoyed trying, clawing all over Heikki’s powerful frame.
But that was only the surface of Heikki’s body, which was indeed iron-like all over. He had muscles in places where Rob didn’t even think there were muscles. Inside Heikki’s ass, however, he was soft and pink and moist, inviting and warm, even compared to the heat of the sauna. Rob sped up his humping when it became clear that Heikki wasn’t in pain, and he moved from gingerly sticking it in and out to slamming his entire little twink body down on Heikki’s ass.
Like flicking a switch, it was obvious when Rob hit Heikki’s prostate and got past the big man’s discomfort. Heikki’s muscles all relaxed at once, and touching him was like a big warm, firm pillow. Rob lost himself in all that flesh, which throbbed and pulsated beneath Rob’s touch.
He had to stand on his toes, and when Heikki’s body rose, Rob found himself elevated off the ground. He gripped Heikki’s back with both hands and humped until Heikki lowered himself again.
He even pulled on that long blond hair. It felt like perfect irony, he thought, since he usually serviced alpha males who liked to pull on Rob’s hair as they cornholed him. Rob never understood why men were into that.
But now that he was plowing into a straight man with long hair, Rob totally understood. His delicate fingers grabbed a fistful of the löyly-moistened blond hair and pulled. He didn’t pull hard, just hard enough to make Heikki lift his head up.
Heikki crooned and let out a long, low moan that echoed in the small wooden sauna. Rob shuddered as Heikki’s asshole clenched. Rob’s free hand tried to stroke Heikki off, but Heikki was so big that Rob struggled to reach his cock, and when he did, Heikki’s own paws were already furiously stroking his meat.
Then both men came at the same time. Rob was surprised by how suddenly his orgasm approached — he was not often a top, so he had little experience in this position — and overwhelmed him. His fingers tightened into talons that ripped at Heikki’s writhing muscles, while Heikki’s whole body tensed.
The smell of semen filled the air. Heikki groaned. He sprayed cum over Rob’s hands and onto the wooden bench beneath him, while Rob slammed his cock all the way in.
A thick burst of cum spurted out, coating Heikki’s insides. They both moaned together, in harmony like they were singing. The most intense orgasm of his life wracked Rob’s body. He shuddered and shivered despite the heat of the sauna.
He didn’t know how much he had shot. It felt like a huge orgasm. Rob could feel it sloshing around inside Heikki’s ass, sticking to Rob’s shaft and dripping down into the nest of hair around Heikki’s thighs. Every motion either one of them took sent shivers of exquisite afterclimax up Rob’s spine.
Then it was all over. The sauna seemed impossibly silent. Heikki’s labored breathing was audible, but distant, like the howl of a wolf outside. It was met by a barking yap — Heikki’s spitz was tied up in the warm spot outside by the ventilation shaft. Heikki bellowed something in Finnish to him.
Rob’s cock slowly limpened inside Heikki, whose muscles tightened as Rob dragged his fingertips overtop Heikki’s taut skin. Heikki gasped for air. Drops of cum dribbled from his cock, which Rob stroked while they both recovered from the intense orgasm.
Finally Rob was done. He gently extricated himself from Heikki, hopping off his back and letting his dick plop out. Heikki let out a sound that was half-sigh and half-roar, like an angry bear about to fall asleep.
He turned around, his broad chest gleamed with sweat and cum. Rob fell into his arms, sat on his lap and nuzzled the filthy flesh of his pectorals. Heikki cradled him close.
This felt more normal, Rob thought, a little twink like him relaxing in his alpha bear’s biceps. That was something Rob had done a hundred times before, but never with a big blond-haired muscle-god like Heikki. He traced the bulging curve of Heikki’s biceps as they both relaxed there.
“Thank you.”
Rob giggled. “You’re welcome, Heikki.”
“We have become dirty,” Heikki said. He stood, looking down at the cum dripping from his chest. He glanced behind himself, where more cum clung to the fine blond hairs of his ass. He smiled awkwardly. He gestured towards the showers — Finns always showered before a sauna, so there were a few showerheads in the other side of the building — and smiled. “We must clean off.”
“Okay, yeah,” Rob said. “I guess we should.” He stood and stretched his legs as Heikki removed the chair that blocked the sauna door from opening. Then they both headed off to the showers.
“You have hotel?” Heikki asked. Rob nodded, and Heikki grinned. “You give to me hotel room number. I will come to visit. You will put penis in other Finns?”
“Uh… what?”
Heikki pantomimed chopping wood with an axe. “The men who I am working with, at wood-chopping camp. And we like the man who puts out butt. It is okay. We are tired of putting penis in each other. We will come to hotel. Yes?”
Rob’s knees buckled and he nearly fell to the floor of the showering area. Was this for real? He couldn’t believe his luck. “Uh, yes! Yeah! Of course. Yes. I’ll… cornhole any number of Finnish lumberjacks, is that what you’re asking?”
Heikki nodded and smiled. “We will all do it.” Heikki put on headphones, and death metal blared into his ears. He swaddled into the shower to rinse off.
Rob took a deep breath. He decided he wasn’t done yet with the sweating — luckily, he was in a sauna. So he sat there to relax and bathe in steam, looking forward to the remainder of his Finnish adventure.

Read it now as an ebook from your favorite ebookstore!

Rob’s World of Men

Chapter One: The American

Chapter Two: The Frenchman

Chapter Three: The Swede

Chapter Four: The Russian

Chapter Five: The Australian

Chapter Six: The German

Chapter Seven: The Turk

Chapter Eight: The Englishman

Chapter Nine: The Finn

Chapter Ten: The Italian

The Scarred Bouncer: Chapter Seven

The Scarred Bouncer

Chapter One: An Affectionate Touch

Chapter Two: The Liminal Space

Chapter Three: A Glorious Face

Chapter Four: An Unexpected Connection

Chapter Five: A Deserved Choke

Chapter Six: A Good Friend

Chapter Seven: A Present of Sorts

Chapter Eight: That Sweet Release

Chapter Nine: A Plan for Repayment

Chapter Ten: An Unpleasant Chore

Chapter Eleven: A Sweet Release

Teddy brought a duffel bag of mostly clothes from Knuckle’s place to the big central booking station in downtown Martinsburg. Teddy had never been there before. It was nerve-wracking.
But he made it through the inspection process and was allowed to bring the duffel bag to the prisoner, Knuckle. He had been arrested for that unlicensed bare-knuckle boxing match. He only had to do eight months, which seemed like a long time to Teddy, though Knuckle described it as “as easy as leaves”, whatever that meant.
“Thank you,” Knuckle said, his voice gravelly and grim. He took the duffel bag from Teddy. It had all of his belongings that he was allowed to take with him to prison. Teddy had agreed to store Knuckle’s other stuff in his apartment, so Knuckle wouldn’t lose anything while he was away.
“Don’t mention it,” Teddy said off-handedly. “You sure you’ll be okay in there? I know, you’ll have Buck, just be careful…” Buck Sampson was another bouncer from Lipsweet. He was inside doing a year-long bid for an unrelated incident, and Mr. Gregarian had arranged for Knuckle and Buck to be cellmates. They were both under the protection of the Gray Snakes.
So they should be safe, or as safe as anyone in prison could be.
Knuckle’s lip quivered. It was maybe one-sixteenth of a smile, but it was the closest thing to a smile Teddy had seen yet on Knuckle’s face. All Knuckle said was, “I’ll repay you. Fer bein’ nice.”
“You don’t need to do that, it’s just keeping some stuff in my closet,” Teddy said. But even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t the main nice thing Knuckle meant — what he meant was that Teddy had come to see him and said he hoped he was safe. That was the nice thing that Knuckle appreciated.
Knuckle thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll send you a gift. You workin’ tonight?”
Teddy nodded. “I’m going straight to Lipsweet from here.”
And then the guard came to get Teddy to escort him out, so they said goodbye to each other. He made sure to write down the state prison’s phone number and Knuckle’s intake number before he left. Then he went back to Lipsweet to work a shift with a heavy heart.
He was surprised by how much he missed Knuckle. Working the door tonight was Davon, that asshole-pimp, whom the girls loved because he was so handsome. Honestly, Teddy also got a thrill in his heart when Davon spoke to him, but that wasn’t often. He treated Teddy like it was beneath him to talk to him.
Finally, the end of the night came, and Teddy hightailed it home. He was glad to see there was still no Bax in the shower — Bax had finally gotten the message, it seemed. So he showered alone, then got ready for bed.
But there came a low, quiet, knock at the door. “Hey, uh, Teddy? I’m lookin’ fer a Teddy.”
It was a low growly voice, much too baritone and expressive to be Knuckle, though it had a certain gravelliness to it that reminded Teddy of Knuckle. He looked through the peephole.
It was a biker, it seemed. He was a young man with a tattooed gray snake visible on his neck, likely more beneath his leather jacket. Military-style patches dotted the jacket. His hair was jet-black and greasy, and he had a blockish jaw like a caveman.
“Teddy?”
“What? Who’re you?”
“I’m Python. I’m with the Gray Snakes-” He was fixing to say more, but the door opened. Teddy stood there in his sweatpants, his slim torso naked.
“Is Knuckle okay? He only just got to the state prison, right? Did something happen already?”

“He’s fine,” Python said. He shrugged. “Probly. I dunno.” He pushed his way inside. “You got someone you need me to take a run at?” He made little fists and shadowboxed the air. His heavy booted feet clomped on the floor. His leather jacket shuffled with his punches, and his jeans were scuffed and caked with dried mud that he was tracking into the apartment.

“Stop, stop, stop stomping on the floor. My downstairs neighbors hate that,” Teddy said. “I… What? You want to fight someone?”
Python shrugged. “Whatevuh. Knuckle ain’t speak clear. I talked to him a couple hours ago. He say I gotta come do what’choo want.” He looked at Teddy like Teddy was supposed to tell him something.
Teddy just raised his eyebrows. “Okay…”
“He said somethin’ ’bout me bein’ a present, fer you. You need somethin’. Prolly a fight, cuz he wanted me here late at night and said it was gonna hurt,” Python said. He shrugged and cocked his head like he was being punched. His tough-guy jaw chewed. “Whatevuh. I can take some punishment.”
“Oooooh… You owe him a favor, I guess?”
Python blushed a little and looked down. “I, uh… I owe the gang a favor. The Gray Snakes. Like… a lotta favors. Like… ’bout twenty-four grand in favors,” he said. “So they pick me to go fight guys a lot.” He took off his leather jacket and tossed it on the couch. His biceps were bared by a cut-off black tee shirt, which was ripped down the side to reveal his ropy-muscled chest. He again shadowboxed, this time keeping his heavy feet still so he didn’t clomp on the floor. Teddy watched his hefty pecs shifting up and down with each punch. Python was sweaty, jazzed up, like he’d been working himself up for a fight. “So who is it? Ya landlord, I ‘xpect?”
“No, it’s… It’s not that,” Teddy said. “Why don’t you take your pants off? You want a drink?”
“Hell yeah.” He stood there, no longer shadowboxing, just looking at Teddy like he didn’t make sense. “Take my pants off?”
Teddy shrugged as he went into the kitchen. “I have rum. You want some rum?”
“I could murder a rum and coke,” Python said. He stood with his hands on his belt, ready to take his pants off. But he thought he musta misheard that. “What’d you say? You want me to take my pants off?”
“Yeah,” Teddy said from the kitchen. “I don’t have any soda. Or any mixers really. Sorry, I’m a bad bartender.” He chuckled. “I don’t keep anything with carbs in the kitchen, I would just drink too much of it. So you’ll have to drink it straight. You want ice? It’s spiced rum, if that makes a difference.”
“Yeah, ice is cool.” Python scrunched up his eyes, his belt half undone. Finally he shrugged and dropped his jeans. He wore plain white boxers. Teddy came in with the drinks, and Python said, “So you don’t want me to fight nobody?”
Teddy shook his head. He motioned for Python to sit on the couch, but then Teddy didn’t sit next to him. He went to the closet rack of DVDs by the TV, and he found one that was unmarked. “No, no fighting. Just hang out with me tonight.” He put the DVD in the machine.
“Oh, you gettin’ threats?” Python said. “If I gotta get up and out in a hurry, I should have my pants on-“
“No, no threats.” Teddy finally sat down next to Python.
Python’s questions stopped when he saw the screen. It was a hardcore porno. A pretty blonde woman was visible, undressing to faintly heard music. Python’s eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, porno?”
Teddy nodded. “Don’t tell anyone. All porno is illegal in the city of Martinsburg,” he said. He got up to cut the light off, then he got up on the back of the couch instead of a cushion. He sat behind Python, who ignored him, and Teddy casually lifted the wifebeater over Python’s head.
Python was deeply engrossed in the porno and sipping his rum. He barely noticed Teddy undressing behind him.
But instead, Teddy’s dick pressed against Python’s spine. It was rock-hard already, and he rubbed it up and down Python’s muscles.
“Oh goddamn, she’s hot. See how her ass jiggles like that…” Python whistled. He leaned back — still ignoring Teddy’s dick rubbing against him, so his lean put his whole torso in front of Teddy, whose hands roamed across his powerfully muscled torso. Python dropped his underwear.
He had a thick knobbly cock, already hard, as he began stroking it without taking his eyes off the screen. Teddy slid down to the couch cushions and put it in his mouth.
“Ah, shit, you owe Knuckle too? You don’t gotta jerk me off, man,” Python said. But when Teddy didn’t stop, he just sucked in his breath and leaned back on the couch. Unsure whether he was doing something wrong, Python closed his eyes and tried not think about it. His dick slid into Teddy’s soft, warm throat. “You really don’t got to. Ain’t — did somebody — ooooooh, shit, yeah, did somebody tell you you hafta do it?”
Teddy looked up at Python without taking his dick outta his mouth and shook his head, but Python’s eyes were still closed, so he didn’t see that. His cock rocketed to erection in Teddy’s throat.
As Teddy’s tongue worked its way up and down Python’s shaft, his dick throbbed and pulsated its way down Teddy’s throat. Cum sprayed into Teddy’s mouth.
“Ah, shit yeah, oh yeah…” Python murmured, his voice breaking. He took a drink from his glass while cum still spewed from his pecker. The taste was intensely bright, salty and sunny, and Teddy savored every drop’s flavor.
More and more kept coming. Teddy swallowed as much as he could, but he didn’t want to take Python’s rod out, so he let his mouth fill to the brim and overflow, soaking Python’s crotch. Even then he kept going.
“Aaaah, shit, man… Ah, thanks, I needed that,” Python said with a moan. “My ladyfriend don’t never suck me off.” He moaned again when Teddy finally pulled off his cock.
His eyes were still closed, so he didn’t see Teddy kiss him on his grizzled lips until it happened. He didn’t realize Teddy had neither spat nor swallowed. His mouth was full of jizz.
So he slid all of that semen into Python’s mouth when they kissed.
Python gagged, both from surprise and disgust when he realized what was in his mouth. Cum splattered all over Teddy’s smooth face but even more coated Python’s wind-grizzled face and scruffy beard. Teddy kept kissing, as Python squirmed beneath Teddy’s much smaller body. He grunted and squelched around the mask of cum, but he didn’t try to get out from under Teddy.
Teddy stood. He blushed. This was the awkward part. He had a big stiffy, and he gave it a stroke as he got closer to Python’s head. Python sneered.
“Aw, man, buddy, I ain’t know you was gonna want me to do it too,” Python said. His sneer turned into a gulp. One of his great big mitts gripped Teddy’s cock and stroked it lazily, limply. That was nice for Teddy, as his callused hands and disrhythmic rubbing brought Teddy back from the brink of orgasm.
Teddy held back a triumphant grin as Python stuck his tongue out. He didn’t lick Teddy’s dick, he just slowly stroked it in front of his tongue. Precum coated his tattooed hand, slicking up the calluses built up from there from his vibrating motorcycle. Teddy’s hands ran through Python’s tangled greasy mound of hair.
“You owe Knuckle a lot of money,” Teddy said. He leaned forward his dick jabbing Python in the nostrils.
Python gag-laughed. “Ewcchk,” he said, clearly disgusted but not especially upset by it. “Nah, I don’t owe Knuckle nothin’ personally. Knuckle got a higher rank than me.” He planted his tongue on Teddy’s cocktip only for his muscular body to shake as he gagged again.
The sight of that made Teddy moan. His whole body buckled, and he almost came. He giggled and leaned on Python’s tattooed shoulders, firm with muscle. His dick spewed precum that dripped onto Python’s mouth and chin.
“Sorry,” Teddy said. His cheeks were red. “I’m just… so horny. I need a girlfriend.” Python looked away, as Teddy’s dick slid into his mouth. Teddy thought he was going to cum, and he very nearly did, but his rod spewed so much precum that Python’s mouth overflowed and Python gagged.
Python’s whole body squirmed, then fell tensely still.
He patted Teddy on the backside. Teddy retreated, and Python hesitated, one hand up. Python had one hand over his mouth like he was holding in vomit.
Then all at once, his whole hairy body did undulate. He held his mouth shut with both hands and scampered off the couch. He ran to the bathroom.
“Uaaacchhhhkk!” Python spat up into the toilet. He gripped the toilet rim and spat up again. His legs were spread, baring his hairy asscheeks. “Sorry, fellah, I ain’t — I just hate that taste, tha’ss all.” He retched again.
His wiry, almost skinny body was taut, as he spat into the toilet. All of his muscles flexed with each retch.
He had no idea Teddy kneeled behind him. Teddy jerked his cock with one hand while he got into position. Python’s back writhed with each gag, and Python gripped the toilet-bowl rim with his tattooed hands. His asscheeks were spread wide.
So, without a word of warning, Teddy could easily slam his pecker into Python’s butthole, no lube — he was grabbing the bottle of lube from the medicine cabinet as he did it, but his cock moved on autopilot. Teddy gripped Python’s greasy hair.
“Ow, shit!” Python said. His back arched, and his face bumped on the toilet rim. “You gotta give a warning…”
Still holding the unused bottle of lube, Teddy moaned and undulated his body, humping Python’s butthole. Cum flowed into him. Teddy hadn’t meant to cum so quick, but he was already on the verge and couldn’t help himself.
Great creamy gobs of it filled Python up and dripped onto the bathroom floor. Teddy forced his dick in all the way mid-jizz, so Python’s ass squeezed around his cock. A frisson of orgasmic pleasure ran through Teddy’s body.
He pumped his dick all the way into Python’s guts and held it there. Python sucked in his breath.
“Oh god, that feels so good…” Teddy said with another moan. He leaned on Python’s broad back and licked some of the pained sweat up there, as Python violently gagged and groaned in pain into the toilet water. Teddy pulled on his greasy hair, still humping his limp dick in and out and turning Python’s butthole into a frothy mess of jizz.
“Shit, you best tell Knuckle I was good,” Python said, his voice staggered with each thrust of Teddy’s dick inside him.
He winced in pain as Teddy slowly let his limp dick slide out. Python still had his face over the toilet bowl, and when the pain grew exquisite enough, Teddy moaned and Python gagged once more into the toilet water. Then, finally, Teddy was done.
They both took deep chamberous breaths. Teddy leaned on Python’s warm back and hugged his muscles from behind, while Python lifted his head up away from the toilet.
Python grunted. “But can you tell Knuckle you had me beat up a guy? That’s what I’m gonna tell people.”