MN Manmacker's mansploitation
Wojo’s a big-ass bricklayer with meat to spare, and he’s got a girl on the side… but he’s a Christian man, and he doesn’t mess around with women before marriage. That doesn’t stop him from getting a nut off with the fellers instead! Wojo’s an active top who just needs a passive hole — luckily, there’s plenty of willing passives around!
Can Wojo find what he needs?
“Ooooooh, I see that!” Buck said when he was close enough to the garage to see the man in the front of the line. The portly sailor with dusky skin — Portuguese, Buck guessed — got his pants undone, and he be humping the garage door.
Actually, he be humping a hole in the garage door.
“What’ssssh going on?” Jeb asked. He sounded very drunk, which made Buck chuckle.
“This is called a gloryhole. I ain’t seen one in Anchorage before,” Buck said with a smirk. He and Jeb got in the back of the line. “It’s fun, you’ll like it. I guess you never got ya rocks off like that.”
“Whaaaat?” Jeb frowned.
“Inside that garage is a girl. Blonde most likely,” Buck said with a knowing grin — he savvied perfectly well that there ain’t no female in there of any kind. “She on her knees suckin’ the dick of any man who stick it in the hole. Gotta pay the A-rab feller first. I dunno how much.”
From Jeb the Farmboy
Buck and that white guy kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t pay attention to their words. There were so many men around, and so much to see. Teddy would have been terrified if he was alone — that was why he showered by himself in his own building, which was not as trashy as Smashwood.
Two naked men were beating up a third in one corner, their cocks flopping about. Nobody even watched as though that was normal. Teddy kept an eye out for cocks as big as Buck’s, but didn’t see any. A lot of them were big though, bigger than Teddy for sure and bigger than most men.
Two black guys in the changing area were jacking off! Teddy craned his head to watch, hoping nobody realized what he was looking at. The black men were crowded around something, presumably a magazine, and they kept aiming their dicks at each other. They were laughing, teasing each other — trying to jab their cocks into each other’s ballsacs hard enough to hurt, it seemed. Teddy wondered if he could go over there and join in.
Before he could ask Buck though, some other guy, a ropy-muscled middle-aged man with a balding head and wrinkled muscles, shouted something incomprehensible at the opening into the showering area that Teddy, Buck and the other white guy were in. The balding man leaned back a little, aiming his cock into the showering area and slightly upward, so that when he started pissing, he got a big arc.
And he was spraying his piss over all of the men in the shower. There was a torrent of laughter and shouting, and one man advanced on him as though to fight, only to get a huge spray of piss all over his chest and dangling dick.
From Aroused by Ex-Cons
His back muscles were broad and firm and slick with sweat. He flexed his back and shoulders for Teddy, making him shiver with desire. It produced a little valley between his shoulder blades. Teddy slid his cock between the valley, the slickness of the sweat gathering there making it glide with no friction. He held back a moan, not sure if that would embarrass Buck.
“Man, in county lockup back in Oklahoma, I was there for like a month,” Buck said, no longer watching the movie because the pretty lady was gone. “And they done that, whatchoo doin’ all the damn time. Indian fellahs love it, they do it a bunch. Shoulderbladin’.” He shrugged, unaware of how that sent a wave of friction and pleasure up Teddy’s spine. He laughed too, making Teddy’s cock spasm and leak precum onto his skin. Buck said, with kind of an embarrassed-little-boy leer, like he was tattling to his mother, “This one time I let like ten of ’em do it, and they all nutted in my hair. It was like wringin’ out a sponge.” He laughed sheepishly.
From Aroused by Ex-Cons
He went straight to the Cone King. That was an ice-cream shop on the north side of town. It was basically a glorified ice-cream truck that had parked and never moved and was now surrounded by a layer of picnic tables and grassy knolls that overlooked the town. It was a popular meeting place for locals in the summer, when nearly everyone would get some soft-serve and spend their evenings eating it outside.
From The Redneck Ex-Con
But Vinnie just grabbed Nathan by the back of the head and slammed him face-first into his armpit — he’d been doing push-ups in front of the stove to be sure it was real sweaty; his undershirt was sopping wet by now, and sweat dripped in rivulets down the small of his back. Greg and two other employees stood and watched, smirking with vicarious disgust at first, then gradually laughing.
It took Nathan a moment to even realize what had happened. His nose was squashed into the coarse black hairs, as dense as a jungle and just as moist, and bracingly salty sweat slipped into his mouth. It was so astringent Nathan squealed and squirmed, but Vinnie kept a tight grip on the back of his head.
“C’mon, baby, suck it clean!” Vinnie said with a whoop and a holler. He beamed like he really enjoyed this — which he kind of did; after years of people — even other greasy guidos like himself — making fun of his hairy, sweaty body, he had decided to lean into it. Especially working in front of a hot stove all day, he had no choice but to be “the gross, hairy, sweaty guy”.From The Redneck Ex-Con
Eventually, they made it to they bunkroom. It weren’t a real bunkroom — it was actually the helipad room. Ain’t nobody ever land a helicopter here, so the helipad control room was just an empty space overlooking the helipad itself. Helipad doohickeys done got gutted years ago. Cody liked the windows — being able to see the prairie spread into the horizon endless as heaven. Cody the freollento discottoned to the cold, so he was glad to share the only bed with Buck.
Cody was relieved to get back to the quivering quiet and cozy comfort of the helipad room. He done outfit the walls and the floor with covers to keep the cold from creeping in. Since he was a little feller, the smallest non-Guatymelon around, plenty the big men might would take a whack at him just for fun. They ain’t done so yet, cuz Cody was often accompanated by Buck and his big-ass muscles.
Sprightly as a sparrow, Cody jumped right onto the bed and sat still for pert-near a whole second before he jumped right back to his feet. He straightened a wall-blanket that done sag, then he stepped back to consider how stable it was. Satisfied, Cody fished up a battered pack of cigarettes and lit one. Buck finally lumbered in oxen-like, his oft-broke nose wiggling like a loose pier.
From Cody the Roughneck
Whereasever Buck churched upon the outskirts of San Francisco. Tweren’t a church ‘t’all, in the structural sense — Pastor Virgil Turnip preached upon a hill on his farmland. Not a single pane of stained glass, nor even regular glass, no ivy, no choir separate from the congratory body neither, no suh or madam, Buck’s church be singing they own praises, no interlocutions ‘tween the Christians and the good Lord’s sun illummifying the meadow with rays of sainthood. First Grace was as Caucasian as albino snow. Buck’s church got a throng apiece of whites and blacks, endless Mexican chill’uns with a meager handful of parents and a large smattering of small Chinese. They all came to pray e’ery Sunday morn with Pastor Virgil Turnip; they came to pray as the Bible did command; they came to pray dressed in colorful fineries and hobo’s rags all alike, and there was expressive outpourings of excitement, shouting of impassionated praises and turgid testimony in tongues.
From Buck the Conservative
The Delacroix family attended First Grace, a staid, polite church with manicured ivy and stained glass and practiced choirs, a church where her father could rub elbows with Dexter James. Lucy’s church was solemn and calm as frozen friars.
