MN Manmacker's mansploitation
Desmond cuts hair in his barbershop, and he often gives his studlier customers a “happy ending”… But when one encounter with a wannabe rapper leads to a hit song name-checking Desmond’s oral skills, this downlow arrangement becomes more out in the open than Desmond expected! That leads to a series of man-on-man encounters with some of the toughest and handsomest alpha male thugs, ex-cons, jocks and even strippers around!
Lamar is on the run from the police, so he’s staying in the barn of redneck Demarcus… When Demarcus comes to him at night, Lamar finds ‘on the run’ just might mean ‘on the downlow’!
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Lamar wondered if he should have just turned himself in. He would have ended up serving twelve to fifteen years in prison, but he could have gotten through that. He would have been treated like a king behind bars because he refused to snitch.
Instead, he ran. Lamar had always been fast, so he got away from the cops that night in downtown Baltimore.
But then what? He was going to be a fugitive for the rest of his life. They had his fingerprints. He even considered burning them off, but he figured that would be suspicious — who but a fugitive would be walking around with burned-up fingertips? Besides that, they had a picture of his face too, and they could probably find a DNA sample without too much difficulty.
Was this going to be the rest of his life? He was staying in a barn — an actual barn — behind Demarcus’s house. Demarcus was one of Baltimore’s most powerful Bloods. It was Demarcus who had arranged this and figured out a way for Lamar to sneak out of the city in the trunk of some white bitch’s car.
The only mitigating quality that made Demarcus’s run-down old house reasonable was that it sat on several acres of former farmland, which was dotted by barns and unused stables. Trees were slowly taking over the fields, giving plenty of obfuscation. It was an ideal spot for someone like Lamar to hide out in.
So the barn was where Lamar stayed for now. Demarcus said he’d be able to move into the house once things quieted down, but for now they needed him to be well away from the road, away from any prying eyes that might happen by. The barn wasn’t awful. It was green, the paint outside peeling. A few holes in the ceiling let in light and rain, but Lamar hoped to find a tarp and a way to get it up on the roof to block the holes.
It all seemed copacetic until that first night, when Lamar tried to sleep on the air mattress Demarcus had given him. It was uncomfortable and cold. The air mattress seemed lumpy. How could air be lumpy?
He was grateful for all the help he got from Demarcus, but he was nervous about how sustainable it was — would he be living like this for the rest of his life? What would be the point? He wondered how much extra time he’d get for running away if he turned himself in now.
Footfalls resonated in the rickety barn. Someone was coming in. Lamar sat up, heart pounding. What if it was a SWAT team? Maybe Demarcus had sold him out? Sweat beaded on Lamar’s shoulders.
But it was just Demarcus himself. He carried a flashlight, though he didn’t turn it on, instead using the ample moonlight to illuminate his way. He stumbled through the disused rakes and wheelbarrows, finally making a lot of noise when they clattered to the floor.
“Demarcus?”
“Oh good, you’s up, huh, nigga?” Demarcus said, his thick drawl echoing in the drafty barn, his voice stawkless as a white man. He sat down on the edge of the bunk. Demarcus had thick muscles toned by his own time behind bars, tattoos decorating his densely-scarred brown skin, including a deer with a target on its head tattooed over his chest. He seemed even larger and more menacing now, wearing only his plain white boxers in the humid air of this Virginia summer night. Demarcus was young but seemed old to Lamar, or maybe it was the other way around.
“Yeah, I, uh… I guess I’m havin’ trouble sleepin’ tonight,” Lamar said. He felt young and stupid. He was almost nineteen, but he felt like a child again, like he was asking Demarcus for a glass of warm milk.
“Reckon you just need to make this barn ya own,” Demarcus said. “Make it into a home ‘stead of a place to lay ya head.”
“Yeah.” Lamar was too nervous to think about this right now. Besides, the best way to feel like this place was his home would be to maintain control over it, and that meant scolding Demarcus for coming in without knocking. Not being in charge of it was what made it feel like not a real home. But he couldn’t very well get angry with Demarcus for coming into his own barn.
“That’s how I got through prison. When I first got the’uh, I thought I’d never sleep in that tiny, scratchy-ass bunk,” he said. He placed one hand on Lamar’s smooth shoulder, and left it there. “But once I hung up some pictures and y’know… jacked off in those sheets a couple times, it felt like home. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
“Yeah,” Lamar said, though he very much did not.
“It helped that my entire cell was Bloods. I felt like I was livin’ wit’ my brothers.”
“Really? Cool.” Lamar felt too nervous to really pay much attention.
“Hell yeah, we got through that togethuh. That’s how a brothah do,” he said. He wiped his forehead, which was soaked in sweat. “Do what it takes, nigga!” Demarcus laughed as though that was a joke. He drunkenly lolled and leaned back against the wall of the barn. That moved his hand from resting on Lamar’s shoulder to his back, and Demarcus’s entire arm weighed him down. Lamar couldn’t decide what that meant — was it possessive? Was he trying to seduce him?
“I ain’t know you was in prison,” Lamar said. “How long were you in for? Which prison was it?”
“Shit, it’s bettuh if we pretend we ain’t shared nothin’ personal. I don’t officially know you’s a fugitive, by the way.”
Lamar nodded. He bit his lip, unable to think of anything to say that was not a question.
“I was behind bars for four years, nigga. I still on parole, reckon, I got three more years, so I gotta keep my nose cleaner ‘an a Virginny hog,” Demarcus said. “But don’t worry, I still a banger at heart. We gangmates, Lamar, you and me. We brothahs too, in a sense. You feel me?”
“Uh… yeah.”
A long awkward silence filled the barn. Lamar was intensely aware of Demarcus’s arm resting on his back, fingers caressing the skin there. Demarcus breathed heavy, and the sweat clinging to his skin added a spicy, salty scent to the air. His fingertips rubbed the divot in the small of Lamar’s back.
Lamar decided to roll over to lay on his back — definitely on the back, not on his belly, which would bare his ass in Demarcus’s direction — Lamar had been around the block, he knew better than to present his ass to a booty bandit outta the penitentiary. He hoped laying on his back would make Demarcus lift his arm up and maybe move it away.
But much to his surprise, that wasn’t what happened. Instead Demarcus rested an arm on either side of Lamar, then leaned down and kissed him on the lips. He tasted like cigarettes and cocoa butter.
“Hey, do you and ya niggas still jack off on the downlow?” Demarcus asked. “Back befo’ I got locked up, e’ry nigga did that-“
“I mean, no! Not all of ’em! Of us, I mean…”
“Y’all niggas jack yo’selves off? Wit’cha hands? Like a teenager?”
“I mean, yeah, prolly, kinda, maybe,” Lamar gulped and faced away from Demarcus. Why did rednecks act like this?
“What about you? You ever mess around? You know, get a nut off wit’out no female to draw it out…?”
“Well…”
“I thought so, pretty face like you. Ain’t no nigga e’er smash you?”
“No!”
“Guarantee some nigga want to. Guarantee that!” Demarcus said, with a loud cackle and guffaw, then a slap upon his knee. He kissed Lamar again and pushed his tongue past Lamar’s lips. It was a long, slow, moist kiss that ended when Demarcus lifted his head, smiling as his hands caressed Lamar’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, what happens in the barn stays in the barn.”
“Is that a real rule?”
“It is in this barn. The green barn is where that kinda shit happens, the kinda shit you city boys call ‘on the downlow’,” Demarcus said. His kisses moved down Lamar’s neck and chest, and he even sucked on each nipple as though expecting to find a breast. His dick poked out the fly of his boxers, rock-hard already, and it jabbed into Lamar’s crotch.
Demarcus mounted Lamar’s face. He didn’t pull down those thin white boxers — which Lamar was now certain were prison-issue underwear — he just aimed his dicktip down from the fly and pushed his dick right into Lamar’s mouth. The taste of male meat assaulted his tongue. Lamar sputtered as musty flesh overwhelmed his senses.
Thinking Demarcus was about to lay atop him, making for an awkward sixty-nine, Lamar submitted. He didn’t like the taste of cock, and he hated being on bottom during a sixty-nine, because he ended up with big sweaty balls flopping against his nose and face. It seemed to happen most of the time when he sixty-nined with his niggas.
But he could live with that, as once he got into it, once his own dick got hard, Lamar could ignore the smell of manmeat on his own nose. Good sex, even with a clean woman, didn’t smell nice either, as far as Lamar was concerned. You oughta smell like a pig in heat.
Lamar wrinkled his nose. He was trying not to think about barnyard animals right now.
In any case, this didn’t turn out to be sixty-nining, because Demarcus never opened his mouth. He bent over Lamar’s body, slamming his dick into Lamar’s throat and placing Demarcus’s own head on Lamar’s legs, just inches from his limp cock. It seemed like he was going to open up and take it.
But that didn’t happen. Demarcus didn’t open his mouth except to moan as his dick leaked precum into Lamar’s throat. He humped his crotch on Lamar’s face, and those heavy balls kept slapping against Lamar’s nose, sending wafts of ball-scent and kinky pubic hairs into his nostrils. Lamar clasped Demarcus on the asscheeks to signal Demarcus should do his part.
Lamar hadn’t even stopped choking on the cock in his mouth before he felt a finger exploring his ass. Demarcus chuckled as Lamar squirmed. Demarcus’s finger didn’t penetrate him yet, just squeezed underneath his legs and played with the rim, which sent waves of both intense pleasure and awkward pain up his spine.
Demarcus pumped his hips over and over, keeping his dick in Lamar’s throat even as he choked around it. When he pulled out to let Lamar take a deep breath, Demarcus rubbed his neck affectionately. His callused middle finger remained on the rim of Lamar’s asshole, but Demarcus didn’t quite shove it in.
“Good nigga, you got it, you doin’ just fine. Won’t make you pay no kinda rent like this,” Demarcus said through gritted teeth, as though Lamar’s mouth made him angry. “Young niggas don’t know nuffin’ ’bout showin’ respect. No nigga e’er made you take a dick b’fore?”
“No!” Lamar said, barely managing to spit the word out past his precum-choked mouth.
“He should. They used to, when we was growin’ up. Cuz undercover pigs ain’t nevuh swallow dick, they wouldn’t do that,” Demarcus said. He didn’t wait for a response before pushing his dick back in, and in that same moment, plunging his pinkie finger into Lamar’s ass. “Guess it’s all ’bout bein’ a real man now, ain’t no room for helpin’ ya gangmate out. That’s some bullshit.”
Lamar squirmed and yelped around the dick spasming in his throat. The taste of ballsweat clinging to his face was intense, but even as he disliked it, he couldn’t help but admit the passion was getting to him. He had been feeling like a dejected loser since running from the police, so it was nice to feel a little lust and desire, even if it wasn’t ideal. Demarcus moaned as pleasure rolled through him, and he caressed Lamar’s skin. It felt an awful lot like fumbling, awkward sex with a woman who smelled bad and was firm-bodied and flat-chested — he had to admit he had done that on more than a few occasions, and this was frankly better than some of them.
Lamar had fucked with some gross women. His niggas made fun of him anytime he turned down sex. He’d had a reputation as a hornball since middle school. He was an early bloomer, and he could never quite live that down. He dated all the girls in high school, when he had been a champion basketball player and the girls threw themselves at him. Not so much anymore.
“I’m-a stick you now, okay?” Demarcus said. He pulled his cock out and, in one smooth motion, moved behind Lamar. He kept both hands on Lamar’s belly, not exactly holding him down but keeping him from moving away. “Don’t worry, I won’t make it hurt, baby.”
If he trusted Demarcus to not tell anyone, Lamar would have been more enthusiastic about this. But he had a feeling Demarcus didn’t really follow that what happens in the barn stays in the barn rule. People took that ‘downlow’ shit seriously back in Lamar’s hood.
A yelp of surprise escaped Lamar’s lips as Demarcus lifted his hips up, leaned down and plunged his tongue into Lamar’s ass. Lamar had only ever had a rimjob from one girl, and she was a nasty slut, so he had never really enjoyed it — it was always more of a theoretical possibility than something anyone might really do. He was especially shocked that Demarcus would do it to him.
His dick spasmed and leaked precum even though no one touched it. He was so aroused he thought he might cum just from the tongue delicately prodding his prostate. Demarcus seemed to know exactly how to do it right.
Again passion overwhelmed Lamar. Twinges of sensation sparked up and down his body. He gasped and writhed beneath that tongue, which seemed impossibly huge, somehow stimulating every inch of Lamar’s insides.
“In prison, I had a magic tongue,” Demarcus said with a grin. “I had niggas payin’ me ten fuckin’ packs of cigarettes to get my tongue in they ass.”
That image made Lamar grimace. It reminded him that he could end up in prison — that could be him next, he thought, and looked away. He was surprised that someone like Demarcus had willingly licked ass like that, but the rules for that kind of thing changed once you got into prison. Booty bandits and old heads get touchy-feely with a nigga, Lamar had learned that multiple times since graduating from high school.
But it had never been like this. He was throwing his head back, pushing his ass at Demarcus’s face. Demarcus was loudly, moistly slurping on Lamar’s asshole, lapping at it like he was going to find a treasure there. His massive mitts gripped Lamar’s sides and held him in place. The sensations his tongue sparked made Lamar cry out for more, every part of his body tensing up beneath Demarcus’s potent pounding upon his tender prostate.
But as he knew it would, the pleasure ended soon enough, leaving Lamar a quivering husk of desire. Demarcus pulled his mouth away from Lamar’s ass, wiped his face off with his hand and separated Lamar’s cheeks.
“You got a cherry ass, doncha, boi?”
Lamar hung his head, not in shame exactly, since it was hardly shameful to have an intact ass. He was just embarrassed to tell Demarcus yes because it was like giving in, like acknowledging that Demarcus was the superior man who could pluck that cherry.
But Demarcus got the answer even without Lamar verbalizing it. He smiled like a victorious invader, spat into his fingers and rubbed the saliva into Lamar’s asshole, again pushing a finger into it as he lowered Lamar’s ass to his crotch-height. He used Lamar’s duffel bag of clothes to prop up his hips.
“I’ll stroke you off too, if you agree to swallow ya own nut,” Demarcus said with a sick smile. “I’ll catch ya nut in my palm and you can suck it down…”
“What?!”
“Sssh, just say yes…” Demarcus said. “I wanna watch you eat nut, okay? Unless you wanna do ass-to-mouth, it’ll have to be ya own. You got a nice pretty face, nigga. It’s gonna look real pretty wit’ yo own cum all over it. Ain’t no shame in tasting ya own nut, okay?”
Lamar’s moan of pain sounded sufficiently yes-like for Demarcus, who smiled again and nodded as he pushed his dick into Lamar’s ass. It was a hot, throbbing slab deep within him, and Lamar’s body bucked and writhed in Demarcus’s powerful arms. He stabbed a symphony of sensations in the deepness of Lamar’s body, making him cry out in agony and in bliss at the same time. Lamar arched his back, shocked that his dick only got harder even as pain wracked his body.
But behind that pain was intense, surprising pleasure. Demarcus had loosened up Lamar’s ass enough with his fingers and tongue that Lamar could take his entire dick with relative ease. It also meant his prostate tingled with sensitivity even before Demarcus’s dick slid past it.
Lamar gasped and held his breath as unimaginable bliss and torturous agony hit him both at once. He rolled his eyes and bit his lip. It would have been so painful he made Demarcus stop except that Demarcus kept on stroking Lamar off, his callused hand jacking his shaft, lubed up by Demarcus’s spit and Lamar’s own precum.
“Yeah, nigga, you got a nice ass, let’s make it bounce,” Demarcus said. He lightly slapped Lamar’s asscheek and groaned when the movement made Lamar grunt, writhe and clench on Demarcus’s dick. His taut little buttcheeks, toned by years of basketball in high school and then more recently in a neighborhood intramural league, rippled with each tap from Demarcus’s meaty hands. Lamar gasped and writhed. Demarcus made some kissy noises and said, “Sorry, nigga, I know that hurt. I won’t do it again, I promise. Gonna make this feel good for ya one way or another.”
Demarcus even wrapped his free hand around Lamar’s neck. He didn’t squeeze, but he kept a firm grip. Lamar writhed beneath his touch, panting and gasping for air.
The pressure in his ass was so intense it was all Lamar could do to force himself to breathe. Both the pain and the pleasure were unbearable, and Lamar couldn’t help himself from orgasmic moaning as he instinctively flailed, hands awkwardly gripping Demarcus’s muscles. He felt his climax coming and tried to slow it down, but Demarcus was in relentless control of his cock and his prostate, so Lamar could only contort as pleasure spasmed through his body.
It was humiliating for Lamar to cum first — only a pussy of a man cums with another man’s cock in his ass, he thought, but he lost control of himself and he didn’t care, he just wanted to blow his load. He moaned so loud he was glad he was in a barn far away from anyone else. He howled and growled, and the aggression he felt was swallowed up by the confident thickness Demarcus keeping him in place.
“There you go, nigga… There. You. Go,” Demarcus said as though he loved watching men ejaculate. You could see the moment when intense pleasure erupted in Lamar’s body, his whole body buckling, knees no doubt would gone weak if he was standing, it was all Lamar could do to avoid explicitly begging for more.
But Demarcus could tell. That was what Lamar wanted. All the young pups secretly wanna get jackhammered by an older man like Demarcus. Even — especially — the ones who militate against it, bristle against an order from an older man, them is who wants it most of all. They wanted the discipline that can only come from a cock ramming its way into a hole that don’t want it. A proper man can force his bottom to enjoy it.
Semen sprayed all over Lamar’s bare chest, coating his six-pack abs and his tight pecs. Demarcus groaned too, as though he had been waiting for this moment. He sped up his gyrations, slamming in and out with each thrust of his hips. He used one hand to sop up all that cum, and he held it up, so they both could see the creamy semen dripping from his fingers in the silver moonlight.
Lamar knew what was coming, but it was still terrifying, and his stomach churned even before it happened. He opened his mouth, and Demarcus brought his hand to meet it. Some of the cum dripped past his lips before Demarcus’s hand got there, so Lamar’s tongue was flooded with semen.
It was intensely salty, powerfully enough that Lamar shocked at the bracing taste. It was creamy like alfredo, and it coated Lamar’s tongue. He groaned in Nelon’s bulging arm muscles.
He choked and gagged, but Demarcus had him suck on each finger. Lamar writhed, his orgasm having never quite ended due to his prostate stimulation, even if his mind was overwhelmed by shame and disgust as he tasted salty cum all over his mouth.
“Gonna clean you up, nigga, cuz that’s what a nigga do,” Demarcus said with a little chuckle that made his dick pulsated in Lamar’s ass.. He leaned his powerful body between over, kissed him on the lips and then licked his cheek. He gagged too when he tasted Lamar’s cum on his tongue and felt it coating his lips, but that didn’t stop from lapping it up like a cat with a bowl of milk.
He had his tongue in Lamar’s mouth when an orgasm hit him as well. His prison-toned muscles all shook and flexed, and he sprayed his load deep inside Lamar’s ass.
“Uh, yeah, take it, nigga…” A warm heat suffused Lamar’s body. He groaned, glad no one could see him writhing while cum covered his insides. It felt like more than any man could shoot, Lamar thought, shuddering, creaminess spreading to every corner of his insides. Each thrust of his hips sent another wave of goop through his insides.
In a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, pleasure sparked through Lamar’s body, the pressure in his ass intensifying the sensations into a tsunami of desire that crashed into Lamar’s mind. His hands curled into claws, as he gasped and begged both for more and for this to end.
Lamar fell limp, numbing bliss spreading from his ass as Demarcus finished filling him up. One final burst of jizz exploded within him, and then Demarcus stopped his gyrations. He paused there, cock limpening inside Lamar’s ass, breath condensing on Lamar’s sensitive skin. Lamar tried not to show how much pain he was in, because he wanted to seem tough, but after a minute or two, he couldn’t bear it any longer. He grimaced and tried to roll away, sending a fresh spasm of pain up his spine.
Demarcus chuckled and pulled out. He smacked Lamar on the bare ass, and laughed again as Lamar spasmed in pain. He leaned down and kissed Lamar’s on the plump asscheek. He gave it a loving caress.
“You got a nice, tight ass, Lamar. I’m gonna love you living wit’ me,” he said. “This’ll be real nice. I’ll get you some lube to keep out here, okay? That’ll make this feel better than you ever thought possible.”
“Oh, uh…”
“Say okay, nigga.”
“Okay.”
“Good,” Demarcus said. “You might be able to stay outta prison, Lamar, but you gonna take it one way or another. Have a good night, nigga. Sleep tight.” Then he walked away, stark naked with those prison boxers in hand as he strode into the moonlit yard. Lamar breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.
Avery is at a grimy basketball court in downtown Baltimore when he has a chance to swing on some alpha male ebony meat. He knows he’s gotta take his shot while he has a chance, and he lands the handsome prettyboy Rakhim! Can Avery please his newest alpha? Can Rakhim perform under pressure?
Read the whole thing here!
“Pass it up, nigga!”
“You dribble like a retard, man, send it over here. You know you won’t know what to do wit’ it.”
Avery sat on the ground near the basketball hoop. He had a basketball with him. He didn’t like his basketball because it was clean. He had just bought it at All-Mart a few minutes ago. It hadn’t occurred him to use it first. It was very obviously brand-new, and it made him stand out as an outsider here.
“Take that shot, Rakhim! Take the shot! Take-“
“Ah, nigga!”
Rakhim was one of the guys playing basketball. He was younger than the others — he had just turned eighteen a few days ago. The rest of the men playing were at least in their late twenties, some well into their forties.
Avery tried not to feel too self-conscious. He was in a public court in one of the worst ghettos of inner-city Baltimore. He stood out because he was the only white person here — what was even weirder was that he was, by far, the lightest-skinned person here. There wasn’t even a single light-skinned black person anywhere at the court. He also stood out because he was watching but not from the sidelines. He was there at the front of the court, behind the basket, so he was almost knocked over a few times as they played.
“Yo, whiteman, bounce it up.”
A ball landed near Avery. His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up and bounced it back to Rakhim. He was young and broad-shouldered, with tight, taut muscles that were dappled in sweat. He was on the “skins” team, so he was shirtless — Avery had watched him deliberately get himself on the skins team, presumably because he wanted to show off in front of the girls who chatted on the sidelines. None of the girls appeared to be paying much attention, but Rakhim smiled at them and made sure they got lots of views of his six-pack abs and his deep dimples.
As confident as Rakhim was in front of the girls, he showed less confidence in front of the old heads he played with. Rakhim was smaller than any of them, and he was easily the most handsome, so they all treated him like a prettyboy. He wasn’t scarred or heavily tattooed, and he had a smooth, unblemished face.
“Watch this dunk, nigga!” Rakhim shouted. He was much too short to be dunking, wasn’t he? Avery wasn’t a basketball expert, but he didn’t think someone like Rakhim had any chance of making it.
Sure enough, Rakhim slammed the ball onto the rim but didn’t make it in the basket. He landed on the ground and groaned as the other players all burst into whoops and hollers. The girls stopped chatting and watched, giggling while Rakhim stood, stony-faced, grimaces flashing over his eyes. He tried to smile good-naturedly.
“You must be this tall to dunk-!”
“That is why you got fired from Darling Donuts, nigga!”
“Yo, Rakhim, you gonna dunk ‘bout two minutes after that whiteman over there.”
They all laughed. Avery blushed, but he didn’t respond. He grabbed the basketball he had brought with him, lifted it over his head and licked the underside of it. He made sure it looked like he was licking a testicle.
All of the basketball players were quiet for a moment. The girls watching from the sidelines laughed — but they were confused, not recognizing the ball-slurping for what it was. Then the basketball players chuckled dryly and resumed the game. There was some faint whispering and casual glances in Avery’s direction, but no one spoke to him.
That was fine with Avery. He knew how to do this.
It was one of the middle-aged guys that came to talk to Avery. He was probably the oldest one here, with a lanky body covered with gray-tinged chest hair. He had a gravelly voice like he gargled with nails, so low and spine-tingling that Avery struggled to understand his words.
“Yo, wuzzup? Whatchoo want, whiteman?”
Avery giggled as girlishly as he could manage. “I just wanted to jerk some dick. Do you know anyone with a dick?”
He glowered. He spat on the ground. “You payin’?”
“I’ll pay you and him five hundred dollars if I get to jerk off Rakhim over there,” he said.
The man chuckled. “So you go’n pay me? For his dick? He my nephew, you know. He twenty-two, but he my nephew.”
“I’ll pay him too.” Avery smiled. “Or if you’d rather, I’ll pay a thousand dollars to the whole lot of you. All ten of you. Hundred bucks each.”
He thought for a moment. “Nah. You pay me. The whole amount, thousand dollars. Don’t tell Rakhim you payin’.” He paused, thought for a moment and rolled his eyes. “Nevuhmind, no. His daddy’s my brothah. You pay him the whole thousand dollars.” He sighed again like he really didn’t want to do that. “His daddy’s doin’ time. I gotta do what’s right… Fine, you pay him a thousand dollars. But don’t tell him till it’s done. I go’n mess wit’ him.”
The game seemed to have paused. The middle-aged man — Reg— jogged back off to the other older players. They spoke in hushed tones. It sounded like they had sent Reg to see what Avery wanted. They all laughed, then hushed each other.
Rakhim shot baskets lazily. He glanced back at the others, and he made eye contact with Avery then looked away.
“Alright, you shitheads got the ball,” Reg said, and the huddle at the far end of the court broke up.
The game resumed. Avery watched, slowly licking the basketball in front of his face. He heard some of the girls mutter catty insults about him, but Avery didn’t mind. He serviced a lot of alpha men, which tended to piss off females. He knew that. It was normal. He could handle the bitches.
“You ain’t nevuh got a dunk in, Short Stuff,” Reg said to Rakhim. Rakhim sucked on his teeth and scowled like he hated that nickname.
“Rakhim’s the only one here who ain’t nevuh one time dunk.”
“He can’t do it, nigga, no one that short can dunk. He shorter than Spud Webb.”
“I ain’t!” Rakhim yelled. “Nah! I’m five nine, nigga! I’m taller than Spud Webb! All y’all fuckers shut yo’ mouths! Spudd Webb was five seven. I can dunk any time I want, nigga.”
They laughed. Even some of the girls watching laughed, and Avery chuckled. Rakhim grabbed the ball from one of the other players. “I got two inches on Spud Webb!” Rakhim shouted, even though he knew it made him look even more defensive — he just couldn’t help himself. Rakhim grabbed his cock, its massive shaft momentarily outlined by his sweaty basketball shorts. Rakhim laughed cockily. “I got more than two inches on ‘im, man, I swear to God!” He pumped his biceps.
“How you know how big Spud Webb’s dick is?”
“Yo, are you sayin’ you jerked off Spud Webb?”
Rakhim shouted, “Y’all can suck the sweat off my balls! Fuck you! I can dunk! I’ll take you all on, motherfuckers!” He paced in a circle as though he was going to challenge someone to a fight but couldn’t decide who. His fuming just made the others laugh more.
The men laughed and clutched each other’s half-naked bodies as they watched. Five of them wore sleeveless shirts, and four (plus Rakhim) were shirtless, but they all pawed at each other’s sweaty muscles while Rakhim shouted. They laughed as though it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.
“Nah, nah,” Reg’s deep voice cut through Rakhim’s yelling, and he had such gravity and authority in his tone that everyone fell silent immediately. Even Avery stopped laughing. Reg’s chest rumbled. “Nah. Nah, nigga. None of us gonna slurp the sweat off ya balls.”
“Damn right.”
“You still the little’un, Rakhim. And you only just turned eighteen.”
“I is twenty-two, nigga, fuck you. I can dunk. You ain’t gotta show me disrespec’,” Rakhim said. He sucked on his lip.
Reg chuckled and placed one hand on his shoulder. “Look, young pup, you wanna show us what you got? Go for it. Let’s make a bet. You get three dunks, nigga. If you make one of ‘em, you win, and Slim Jay here gonna set you up wit’ one of his fine-ass hos.”
Slim Jay was one of the other players, on the Shirts team. He wasn’t dressed like a pimp now, but he was clean and had brand-new sneakers and about fifteen trashy-looking women cheering him on. Slim Jay was the only one with his own cheering section. Slim Jay pointed towards the girls cheering him. “You can pick which one you want, man.”
“Sharlene. I want Sharlene.”
There was a moment of silence, and the men all laughed. Rakhim’s face was tight and pinched, and he bit his lip.
“You in love wit’ a whore, nigga?”
“You gonna eat that bitch’s cummy, flappy pussy?”
“No! She hot! She got ass all over, nigga, and I heard she suck dick good. That’s all! I don’t love her, no way,” Rakhim said. He sighed because none of the men could hear him over their own taunting. He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Anyway, whatever, fuck you, Slim Jay. I could get her anytime I want. I could get a freebie. Girls love my meat, nigga. She be beggin’ for it if-“
“Nah.” Slim Jay said. He got up real close, and laughter stopped. His face was less than an inch from Rakhim’s. Since he was taller than Rakhim, he had to stoop over so his eyes lined up. “Nah, Rakhim. You ain’t gonna do that. She my girl. I love her. She know that. Ain’t nothin’ you do gonna change that. She don’t do freebies. She love me too much to betray me like that.”
After a long pause, Slim Jay kissed Rakhim on the lips. It was a momentary, dry, chaste kiss that ended as soon as Rakhim pushed him away. Despite it lasting only a half a second, the kiss made Rakhim howl and wipe his lips off as though he had just kissed battery acid. The other men laughed and clutched each other for support once more.
“Ya got a new boyfriend, Rakhim? You gonna turn tricks for Slim Jay?!”
Slim Jay smiled as they all hooted at Rakhim, who switched his hostile glares from Slim Jay, to the others, to the girls who shouted for more from the sidelines. But Slim Jay was already jogging away, to Avery. He wangled his dick in his jeans and smiled at Avery. “Yo, man. Gimme ten bucks for kissin’ Rakhim. I know you got off on that.”
“Uh…” Avery wasn’t expecting that. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, as he had no ten. “I, uh-“
Slim Jay took the twenty. “Good. The other ten bucks is you payin’ me to watch my ass as I walk away.” He laughed and shook his plump cheeks as he went back to the cluster of older men. Rakhim dribbled by himself in front of the basket, eyeing Avery suspiciously. It looked like Rakhim wanted to practice dunking but couldn’t do so right now without looking weak.
“You wanna do this, nigga?” Reg said to Rakhim. “If you can make just one dunk, you get to fuck wit’ Sharlene. If you can’t make a dunk, you gotta stop talkin’ trash ‘bout yo’ skills… and you gotta get whiteman over there to slurp the sweat off yo’ balls. And you gotta ram him.” Reg crossed his arms over his chest. The other men did the same, presenting a united front.
Rakhim scoffed. “What? Fine, whatever.” Then, like the details hadn’t really sunk in just yet, he said, “Wait, what? What’d you say? I gotta…”
“You scared?”
“Yo’ daddy’s is a booty bandit behind bars, you know that, right?”
“Shut up! My pops ain’t a booty snatcher, nah! Fuck you, man.” Reggie scowled and stamped his feet.
Reg rolled his eyes. “So whatchoo think? Can you do it? Can you dunk wit’ yo’ tiny ass?”
“Nigguh! Ah…” Rakhim paced again. He was furious that his father’s affairs were being aired in public. He screamed at Reg, “I know you lyin’! My pops ain’t no bum-tickler!” That made Reg laugh some more, and Rakhim took a deep breath through slitted teeth. “You don’t know jack-shit, old nigga. You don’t know nothin’. My pops don’t act like that. He ain’t fuckin’ around on that ramrod trip. Nope. No way.”
Reg covered his face as he tried to look serious. “Sure, nigga. Right. I know he introduced you. Ramon, right? His name was Ramon? You should respect him, he’s yo’ stepmama.”
“No he ain’t!”
“Alright, Rakhim, you wanna do it? Huh? You takin’ the bet? Quit makin’ a fuckin’ scene and do it. Or don’t, if you don’t think you can dunk…”
Rakhim flared his nostrils and nodded. “Hell yeah, ‘course I can do it. I can dunk, nigga. I can get all three, I bet. I can dunk, no problem. Three dunks in a row.”
“Let’s see it then…” Reg said with a wry grin. He and the other men lined up like they were watching a free throw. They clapped and hooted. The girls watching from the sidelines did the same thing.
Rakhim went back a few yards so he could run up to the basket. He dribbled a couple times. He shook his short braids out of his eyes and ran his fingers over his scalp. His tight pectoral muscles flexed and rippled.
Then he ran for it. He dribbled down the court, between the rows of clapping men and leapt at the hoop. Since Avery was there by the basket, he got a good look at Rakhim’s cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts.
And he missed. Rakhim whiffed completely. He barely touched the basket at all and didn’t even get the ball near the rim.
Laughter exploded from the other men. Rakhim roared and screamed profanities. His eyes bugged out. Some of the girls called out supportive words, which only seemed to make Rakhim angrier.
He raced back to try again before anyone could even tell him to hurry up. He ran faster, not even really dribbling anymore — he dribbled a bit, but if this was a real game, he’d have been called out for traveling.
He got closer, but this time he merely touched the rim with the ball. There was a metallic clang, but no basket.
Again, the audience all erupted in clapping. Avery joined in, shouting encouragement even though he wanted Rakhim to lose more than anything. Catcalls and hoots came from the other men, while the girls giggled among themselves.
Rakhim paused for a long time before his third try. He hushed the crowd, which made the other players laugh harder before Reg told them all to be quiet.
“Nah, let him concentrate, man. We gotta give him a chance. Let him try,” Reg said until they all fell silent. Slim Jay even made his hos shut up.
Rakhim took a deep breath and ran forward for his last try. It was, once again, a miss. He got it on the rim and it almost went in but bounced right off.
No dunk.
Rakhim lowered his head and closed his eyes. He frowned and tightened his hands into fists as the other players alternated between teasing and sarcastic words of support.
“You suck, nigga!”
“Short Stuff! Short Stuff!”
“You tryin’, nigga, you get a medal for tryin’. You got spunk, man. You got gumption.”
“Gumption! Short Stuff full of gumption! And spunk!”
“Spud Webb’s spunk…”
“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed. He threw the basketball away as hard as he could. It sailed over the fence and bounced into the road outside the court. A few of the girls booed.
“Ah, don’t be a shit, Rakhim,” Reg said. “Jesus Christ, you such a bitch sometimes.”
“Say that to my face, Uncle Reg!”
“I just did say it to yo’ face, motherfucker! Open yo’ ears!” Reg laughed and mimed plucking something from Rakhim’s ear. Rakhim bristled and rubbed his ear as though he thought there was something in there. Reg clasped Rakhim on the shoulder and squeezed. “Chill the fuck out, nigga.”
“We just givin’ ya shit, man. You ain’t gotta throw the ball away. That’s a punk move.”
“If we was in lockup, nigga, I’d stab yo’ ass for that. I’d stab ya in the ass, and then, once I blew my nut inside ya, I’d stab you wit’ a shiv.”
They all laughed at Rakhim’s heavy breathing. Rakhim’s eyes were narrowed to slits. He looked so furious he might explode.
“Yo, you gonna do what you promised?” Reg asked. “Huh? You gonna back out like a loser?”
“Nah. Nah. No.” Rakhim bristled. His anger broke, and he glanced back at Avery. He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes and forced a smile on his face. “Whatever. Fine. Let him suck the sweat off my balls. Fuckin’ bitch. I ain’t, you know… I ain’t some squeamish nigga, you know. I don’t fuck around on the downlow, but I could. I could. I could. I just got females, y’know. I ain’t a bitch who can’t get no pussy. I ram a male, sure, I ram a male, you know… I would ram a male, if I needed to. Sure. No problem, nigga. If we was in prison, I’d-a done took whiteman back there to be my bitch. He’d already be doin’ my laundry, you know, hand-washin’ my drawers. I be eatin’ that bitch’s fruit cup from day one.”
“Is ‘fruit cup’ how young’uns say ‘asshole’ now?”
“I do it, no problem.” Rakhim shrugged and sucked on his teeth. Then he shrugged again, more aggressively. “Sure. Where? I ain’t invitin’ no man into my mama’s house.”
“Right here, nigga. We do it how yo’ daddy make love to his boyfriend, wit’ all his boys blocking the view from the screws,” Reg said. “Get in a circle, niggas.”
Before Avery even realized it was going to happen right here — there was a public bathroom in the courts, so that’s where Avery assumed they were going — the nine players had come to him and formed a circle. Avery leaned against the pole supporting the basketball hoop. He had his own basketball in hand, but he dropped it to the ground and held it in place with one foot.
With nine very large men in a tight circle, flesh-on-flesh, there was no way to see in from outside. Even if you got up real close and tried to look through their legs, all you’d see was low-hanging basketball shorts. You’d have to get all the way down on your belly to see anything, and even then you’d only be able to tell that Avery was on his knees.
Rakhim stood in the center of the circle. His eyes closed, hands on his waist, his pert chest muscles rose and fell as he breathed heavily. He gulped. He tried to put on a tough-nigga face. “Alright, man, get to it. I got some sweaty-ass balls right now-“
Someone pulled down Rakhim’s shorts and his drawers, laughing when it made Rakhim bristle. He had a nice thick cock dangling between his legs, and heavy balls with sweat dripping off his kinky black hairs.
Avery wanted to get started right away before Rakhim decided to drop out. He dove his head between his legs and let both balls plop into his mouth. He gurgled moistly, making as much noise as he could because it made Rakhim bite his lip with embarrassment while the others clapped and cheered.
Rakhim shuddered. He had never had his balls licked before, not really — he’d had girls lick his sac a bit, but they were never willing to suck on his balls. He was ticklish, which he thought would make him look weak so he tried to avoid reacting. But the more he resisted, the more Avery teased his taint with his tongue, making Rakhim giggle like a schoolboy.
“Quit playin’, quit playin’…” Rakhim muttered.
Avery suckled all the sweaty balljuice off his body. He even got way down deep between Rakhim’s legs and slurped like he was trying to suck his taint right off. Rakhim was ungodly funky right now, with fresh sweat dripping in rivers down Avery’s throat — Rakhim was sweaty because he was playing basketball on a humid summer afternoon and because he was nervous about showing off his cock in front of a bunch of old heads.
But he had nothing to be ashamed of. Not only was his cock plenty big, but it got hard right away — almost too quickly, Rakhim thought, hoping no one noticed that he got an erection easily, as though he was with a girl.
“Throat him down, Rakhim!”
His plump cocktip pushed into Avery’s throat. Avery deep-throated him right away, in one smooth motion, prompting the other men to clap again. Rakhim shuddered and closed his eyes. He leaned back against the pole holding up the basketball hoop.
“Course, I’ll throat him down, man,” Rakhim said. His voice sounded a lot less confident than his words suggested, which made the other men chuckle. Rakhim snorted. He took a deep breath and grabbed Avery by the head.
And then he let go and laughed. His laughter was tremulous and anxious.
Rakhim had trouble focusing. He tried again, touching Avery’s scalp, but when he felt Avery’s straight, short, man’s haircut, he laughed nervously again. He pulled his fingers back.
“You scared, Rakhim?” One of the older men poked Rakhim in his bare ass with one finger, making Rakhim buck and smack his hand away.
“Nah, man, this, uh… This man’s just nasty, that’s all,” Rakhim said. “Whatever. I can ram his throat. I ram hard, you know it. I can make him gag.” He closed his eyes and tried again. He grabbed Avery by the scalp, so tightly it hurt. But Avery didn’t mind, he just swallowed Rakhim down to the root, and he didn’t gag even when his throat cried out for it — Avery had been doing this long enough he could usually suppress his gag reflex. Avery’s hands reached up to tease Rakhim’s nipples, which made his pecs ripple.
“He ain’t gaggin’, Rakhim. Maybe yo’ dick ain’t big enough.”
“You got another, bigger dick somewhere? Whip it out, nigga.”
“He… He prolly slurp too many dicks to gag. Ain’t that right, man?” Rakhim asked. He pulled out and lightly slapped Avery on the cheek. “Huh? Is that why you don’t gag?”
“Yes,” Avery said, the first thing he had said to Rakhim all day.
“I bet my dick tastes like pussyjuice, don’t it? I was fuckin’ a female earlier. I was dick-deep in her, man.” He beamed proudly, and glanced behind himself to see if the others were impressed. They were not.
“I don’t taste pussyjuice, sorry,” Avery said. “Your dick tastes really good though-“
“You don’t know what real pussy tastes like, whiteman,” Rakhim said. He rubbed his hard cock over Avery’s face, smearing precum over him. “That’s all. I was fuckin’ a female, I swear. Right before I came here. I busted all up in her.”
“You ain’t fuck her in the ass?”
“Nah. Nah. Not her,” Rakhim said. “Not this morning. I do fuck bitches in the ass, man. No problem.”
Avery smiled. “Are you ready to ram me in the ass?”
“Hell yeah he is, boy! He gonna get up in there!”
“Destroy him, Rakhim!”
“Do yo’ daddy proud and wreck his ass!”
Avery turned around and bent over. He stuck his ass up high, too high for Rakhim to ram him in it. Rakhim had a beaming, prideful smile on his face until he saw Avery’s tight asshole twinkling in front of his face. Rakhim looked away.
“You scared?”
“Ain’t you evuh been locked up, Rakhim? This yo’ first time?”
Rakhim scoffed. “Course it’s my first time, nigga. I ain’t a booty bandit or nothin’. I ain’t gone inside. Nope. I said that before, nigga. I don’t mess around on the downlow,” he said.
“So this ain’t downlow? We can tell everyone?”
“No!”
“I’m tellin’ yo’ daddy,” Reg said with a grin. “I’m gonna call him right now. You gonna get in there?” Reg fished out his cell phone from his shorts pocket. He dialed a number. “No one prolly gonna answer, on ‘ccount of it’s a smuggled cell phone. They keep it turned off. They gonna call me back if yo’ daddy’s available.”
“You ain’t gotta tell my pops, Uncle Reg! Come on! Don’t tell him!”
“Why not?”
Rakhim’s mouth was agape, and he mumbled like he wanted to come up with a reason but couldn’t think of any. He just thought and stood there with his erect cock resting on the surface of Avery’s ass.
Avery got bored with waiting. He reached behind himself and grabbed Rakhim’s dick. His fingers shocked Rakhim out of his reverie, and Rakhim slapped his hands away.
“Nah! Don’t tell him, Uncle Reg! Quit playin’! Come on, nigga…” He paused. He grabbed Avery’s hand. “Get yo’ hand back here again, whiteman. You guide my dick in.” He put Avery’s hand right back where it had been before he smacked it away.
“Get in there, Rakhim!”
Rakhim took a deep breath and pushed his cock in. He gasped and gagged when it finally went in. He closed his eyes, and then he covered them with one tattooed forearm. His breathing was short and shallow as though he was on the verge of tears.
“You evuh ram a male in the ass?! Huh? Fo’ real?”
“No, man! I said that! I ain’t nevuh do it. I get pussy. I get females,” Rakhim said with a roar. He pounded on his chest muscles. “I get females beggin’ for my meat, you don’t even know!” The more he bragged, the more the others cackled and jeered at him. They kept squeezing his muscles, pretending to be girls overwhelmed with desire.
“Ooh, Rakhim, you turn me on so much, will you lick my butthole?!”
“Nothing turns me on more than watching niggas fail to dunk, Rakhim, that’s my kink. Come here and titty-fuck me!”
“If I threw a ball at you, Rakhim, could you not catch it? That makes my pussy so wet. I’m a fumble-holic, nigga.”
“Ooh, nigga, could you miss an easy lay-up while you fuck me, Rakhim? That’d be so hot.”
Someone gave Rakhim the ball that Avery had brought to the court. Rakhim scowled and ignored them, but a chant soon erupted. He held the ball.
“Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it!”
Finally Rakhim screamed in rage — he barely even paid attention to his cock sliding in and out of Avery’s ass right now — and threw the ball. He was behind the basket, so he had to throw it high to get it over the backboard.
The ball whiffed completely. It didn’t even touch the net. It bounced away on the ground, and the men erupted in cheers.
“That was so hot!”
“If you plow hard enough, Rakhim, you might grow some balls. Then you’d be a real boy, just like yo’ fairy godmother promised.”
“Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed and threw a punch, but with his dick in Avery’s ass, it was a useless gesture. He just flailed his fist in the direction of one the men. They all laughed and clapped. Rakhim shouted justifications — mainly claiming that Avery’s movement had distracted him — but no one could hear him over the sound of the others razzing him.
Rakhim seemed to realize that the only way out of this was to just finish up. The more he responded, the more the others teased him. He bit his lip, gritted his teeth and grabbed Avery by the cheeks to ram him harder. Then he realized he was touching a white man’s ass, and he let go with a pained grimace.
A cell phone rang. Everyone laughed, except Rakhim, who moaned, until Reg hushed them all and answered the phone. Reg serioused up. “Yo, nigga. Yo, I know you gotta pay for this, don’t worry, I put some money in yo’ commissary — nah, it ain’t ‘bout none of that, relax. It’s a joke,” Avery said. “Yo’ son is here gettin’ his cherry popped on the court.”
“I ain’t a virgin, pops! Shut up, Uncle Reg! Nah, that ain’t what’s happenin’! Nah! Nah!” Rakhim grabbed for the phone, but without pulling away from Avery’s ass. His cock throbbed and sent shivers of pleasure through Avery’s body. Rakhim flailed uselessly towards the phone in his uncle’s hands. Some of the other men slapped his hands down.
“Shut up, Rakhim.”
“Yeah, there’s some white man hanging out here. We set up a wager, and yo’ boy ain’t dunk one time — yeah, I know, he still short, he do think he can dunk-“
“I can dunk, nigga! My pops seen me dunk! He saw it!”
Reg was quiet for a moment. “He say you ain’t nevuh dunk on no regulation basket.”
“It was reg’lation, man! It was just as high as this one!” Rakhim pointed to the basket he had missed. “I can do it. I swear to God, I can do it.”
“You ain’t gotta swear to God to prove it, nigga. All you gotta do is do it.”
“Yeah, so he rammin’ that man. He deep in his ass right now. I think he might be in love.”
“Nuh-uh! Fuck you, Uncle Reg! Say that to my face! Come on!” Rakhim shouted. He seemed to have forgotten his dick was in Avery’s ass, and he pushed towards his uncle Reg. Avery squirmed and held back squeals, as the thick shaft in his guts sent paroxyms of pleasure through his body.
“He ain’t nevuh get no female, so this is sorta practice, you know. He learnin’ how to use his dick for the first time.” Reg paused and laughed at whatever Rakhim’s father said. Reg cleared his throat. “Hey, so you know that boy? What’s his name, Ramon? Yeah. He yo’ cell wife or what?” He paused, then said, “Ha! Tol’ you, nigga.” He put his phone on speaker. The sound of a crowded prison filled the air, macho grunting and a whistle in the distant background. “Go’n, say that again.”
A deep, gravelly voice intoned, “Ramon’s my boy. He’s my cell wife. I ram him all the damn time, nigga, you know that.”
“Nah! Tell ‘em the truth, Pops!” Rakhim shouted. “Fuck you all!”
They all laughed hard for a long time. Avery found it difficult to follow all this, because he jacked himself off while Rakhim rammed his ass. Rakhim’s cock was rock-hard even as he got embarrassed, and it tickled Avery’s prostate with every thrust of his hips.
Soon Avery shot his own load onto the ground. No one noticed because they were focused on Rakhim, who took the phone from Reg and spoke into it — it was off speakerphone now.
Rakhim’s voice went from macho and braggy to calm and respectful. “Hey, Pops. Uh-huh. Yeah. I’m doin’ it! Uncle Reg’s being a prick, nigga. I’m- Uh-huh. I know. Yeah. Yeah. Yes, sir,” Rakhim said. His voice was weak now, like he didn’t enjoy showing respect in front of others. He looked down at his cock, still pulsating in Avery’s ass. He stopped moving it, but Avery kept sliding back and forth, up and down on the shaft. “Yeah, I’m rammin’ him. Just… Pops… Come on, man… Yes, sir. I’m… Yeah, I can do it. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t! Shut up, man, I said I won’t! Why you gotta have a cell wife?! Tell him he gotta wear makeup! I got niggas in there, man, they tellin’ e’rybody — Mom don’t know! Mom don’t know ‘bout that shit! She don’t know nothin’- Nah, pops! Nah! Nah, nigga!” He paused and sighed. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sir, I don’t say the n-word that much, Uncle Reg got me worked up,” he whispered. Then he sighed again and gritted his teeth. An involuntary surge of sensations ran through his body, making his muscles all flex as his hips gyrated, forcing his cock in and outta Avery’s ass. “Yes, sir. Sorry. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yes, I’m going to church!”
“No he ain’t!”
“I ain’t seed him at church!” Reg shouted at the phone.
“I am going to church! I missed one week! Just one!” He paused. “I swear to God, Pops, just make him yo’ bitch. I don’t wanna hear that shit. Nah. Nah! He ain’t — Pops! Man, don’t say that! Don’t say that! If he can be yo’ cell wife, he can be yo’ bitch! Make him a bitch! Pimp him out! Fuck you then! No! No! Don’t-! Don’t tell her! Man… I’m sorry, Pops, just chill out. Don’t tell Mom. I ain’t mean it. I just… I got respec’ for you, Pops. I was just mad. Don’t call him yo’ cell wife.” He sighed again. “Yeah, fine. Okay. Yes, sir. I’ll… Yes, I’ll meet Ramon next month in visitation. Fine. I’ll be nice. Yes, sir. Don’t tell Mom.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to Reg. “He said he treats Ramon like a bitch. He just calls him a wife cuzza prison rules or some shit. Don’t mean nothing.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Okay, Rakhim,” Reg said with a snorting laugh. “You gonna cum or you gonna fall in love over there?”
“He gonna fall in love like his daddy did.” Rakhim looked down like he didn’t understand why his dick was in Avery’s ass, throbbing, sending spasms of ecstasy through Avery’s tense body. Avery groaned and moaned into the asphalt of the Bullmass Park court.
“He ain’t in love! It ain’t real love anyway, it’s prison love. All y’all shut up! He ain’t takin’ dick! He’s on top anyway, I know that!” Rakhim said, his eyes closed. They all tittered with laughter, which made Rakhim frown though he didn’t say anything else. He just gripped Avery by the ass and started ramming again.
Then he twitched like he hadn’t meant to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He grimaced and let go. He kept ramming back and forth though.
Avery had already shot his wad onto the floor, so every stroke of Rakhim’s cock inside him just extended his post-orgasmic bliss. His ass was in terrible pain now, since Rakhim had a huge cock and rammed with it clumsily, obviously having never stuck anyone in the ass before (probably including women). But the pleasure of the man’s cock throbbing inside him combined with the arousal flowing through Avery’s body to make him writhe uncontrollably. Avery felt like he was falling apart.
“I can ram you so hard, whiteman, you gonna be beggin’ me for mercy,” Rakhim said, his voice trailing off like he realized he was making a boast he might not be able to back up. He wrapped one of his arms around Avery’s throat. “Gonna treat you like a prison bitch. This is prolly how that bitch Ramon gets it.”
He put Avery in a loose chokehold and slammed his cock in, moving his hips around as though he needed to do it from every angle. He groaned and grunted into Avery’s ear. Avery moaned and bucked, resisting at first then allowing Rakhim to ram him harder and harder.
“Fuck you, man, fuck you!” Rakhim hissed directly into Avery’s ear. That made Avery shudder with both fear and desire, and his ass clenched around Rakhim’s cock.
At last that was it. Rakhim groaned, and it was obvious he was relieved to finally finish. The other men clapped. His voice broke in Avery’s ear, his breath condensing on his skin.
“Oh damn, I guess those balls do work.”
Hot cum flew into Avery’s ass. Rakhim was young so his balls were full, bursting with juices. It all flowed into Avery like his cock was a hose, and his cum sprayed throughout Avery’s body. He could feel it trickling into every corner of his flesh. A surprised moan came Rakhim, and an intense moan boomed out of Avery’s mouth.
Some of it seeped down his thighs too, trickling onto the ground and the puddle of Avery’s own cum. Rakhim roared and pounded on his chest, breathing heavily. His roar was interrupted by his own gasp, and then he snarled as Reg pinched his asscheek again.
“There you go, you got it. You worked hard for yo’ money, nigga,” Reg said.
Rakhim nodded. “Uh-huh. Tol’ you. Told you I could do it.”
“You said you could make him beg you-“
“He begged. I heard it,” Rakhim said. He pulled out and grimaced, gagging at the sight of Avery’s cum-filled asshole. Avery giggled and squeezed his ass, making a big clump of cum slide down his leg. The men all laughed and clapped. Rakhim took a deep breath. “I did it, nigga.” He paused. “Wait, what? Whatchoo sayin’ ‘bout money?”
No one answered him. They all exchanged knowing glances. Rakhim furrowed his brow, looking right at Reg. He didn’t notice Avery pull out his checkbook and start writing.
“Huh? Uncle Reg, what was you sayin’?”
Avery handed Rakhim a check for eleven hundred dollars — the extra was to cover the cost of cashing the check at a payday-loan place. Rakhim took the check, but it didn’t register, he just scowled at Reg.
“Uncle Reg, what did-?” He saw the check. “What’s this? Huh?”
Avery just walked away, cum still dribbling down his thighs. He squeezed between two sweaty bodies, since the men were still interlocked in a tight circle. He kept his tongue out as he went so he got to lick all the salty sweat off one man’s ebony torso on his way out. Whoever it was jumped away like Avery’s tongue was painful.
“Yo, did he just pay me?! Why ain’t you tell me I was gettin’ paid?! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, nigga! Hell yeah, I got white men payin’ fo’ my meat. Ain’t nothin’ wrong ‘bout that. You tell my pops, right? He won’t believe me. Uncle Reg, you gonna tell him?”
“Nah. I will tell yo’ moms though.”
Kwan is a new barber at a black barbershop, and he’s in for a world of alpha male downlow interracial action! That’s cuz he works with some of the neighborhood’s mightiest, strongest and sexiest alpha male black men.
Can Kwan handle his toughest coworker, the legendary ex-con Ike Skelton?!
Abdul’s latest IT job brings him onto a naval base, where the hunky older officer Chumbers corners him in a closet with an urgent need for a little twink on top!
SIR YES SIR!
Or read it here now!
Abdul was nervous when he got to work on the base at Annapolis. He had two reasons to be nervous, though luckily he hoped the second might counteract the first — he was a brown-skinned Muslim named Abdul, and he knew a lot of American military folk were skeptical of Muslims. So he was worried about anti-Muslim harassment and xenophobia. Counteracting that, Abdul was a slim nerd of Turkish extraction, and while he normally had only a slight lisp and a bit of limp wrist, he accentuated both right now. His glasses and dorky demeanor probably helped too, and he was sure to make a Star Trek joke as he checked in with the secretary. Hopefully that made him seem less like a terrorist.
Indeed, everyone on the base ended up being extraordinarily kind and helpful. That was no doubt in part because they desperately needed his help. The wireless router in one building had been broken for weeks, and no one with the Navy was able to fix it.
Fixing stuff like that was Abdul’s job. He could fix anything, as long as it was a computer.
The secretary was a perky young man who looked about twelve years old, but he was in the Navy, so presumably he was older than that. He had no idea what a router was, where it might be or who would know about the wifi. He was the most useless secretary in the history of the Navy.
But he did manage to make a call, to a Captain Chumbers, who must have told him where to go. He then showed Abdul the closet with the routers in.
He got to work, glad when that babyface sailor left him alone. Abdul had been unsure that would be allowed. Maybe, after all, they would require a security minder to be present.
Honestly, they ought to. Did the Navy know they had some random fiddling with their wifi? Abdul could have installed a bug. He didn’t bring that up because he didn’t want to tempt fate.
First of all, the permissions were all messed up. Abdul had to get into the mainframe to open up the router, and that alone took a whole hour. He had to go find that useless secretary to get the password, and then he had to explain what a password was, and then he had to wait for the password. It took forever. The Navy have a real problem with efficiency.
Eventually though, he fixed the permissions issue, and he got down into the nitty-gritty of the broken wifi.
“Do you know what’s wrong?” asked a deep man’s voice, startling Abdul.
Abdul was nearly done fixing it, but he didn’t want to say that because there might end up being more work to be done, and then he’d look like he failed. In fact, he suspected that the Navy’s own IT folk had been messing with it while they tried to fix it, and they might have broken it even worse. “I think a few things are wrong with it,” Abdul said without turning to look at the man behind him. He forced his voice to deepen as he became self-conscious about his nerdiness. “I’m about to finish fixing the main thing. That was probably the initial problem. But these issues have a way of snowballing and causing more problems as time goes on, so I’ll need another couple hours.”
It was only as he finished speaking that Abdul looked up and saw that he was not speaking to that secretary or the cadets he had met earlier. This was clearly someone in charge — he was tall, stately, broad-shouldered and stiff-necked. He had a square jaw and pale skin, with a few colorful tattoos peeking out from under his uniform. He had such an authoritarian demeanor that Abdul jumped up and saluted as soon as he made eye contact.
The officer smiled. “At ease… sailor?”
Abdul blushed and looked down. “Sorry. I guess I watch too many movies.”
“That’s fine. My name is Captain Chumbers,” he said with a throaty chuckle. He cocked his head to the side as though considering Abdul. “You are… uh… I’m sorry, I’m not sure the politically correct way to ask this, you’re-“
“I’m Turkish,” Abdul said. “And I’m Muslim. But don’t worry, this doesn’t actually give me access to the secure server, I don’t have access to any classified information.”
“There’s nothing to speak of on this network anyway,” he said. “All you’d find out is what we’re having for lunch this week.”
“Is it pork?”
Captain Chumbers chuckled. “No, we don’t serve pork, or beef. We have Muslim and Hindu seamen,” he said. Despite the gravity of the situation, when he said seamen, Abdul had to stifle a laugh.
“Cool. Okay,” Abdul said.
“Oh.” It was apparent he wanted to ask for more, but didn’t think he should, so he shut up. He shifted his weight on his feet. “I’m sorry, I’m distracting you from your job.”
“No, it’s okay. This next part needs to run on its own. It should take like a half-hour,” Abdul said. “Did you need this room? I can wait-“
“No, stay here,” Captain Chumbers said. He sidled in and closed the door behind him. This was a small, cramped IT closet, with servers and computer gear scattered about on rickety old shelves. Captain Chumbers had an intent look on his face, like he had a very serious plan, and whatever it was, it made Abdul’s heart flutter.
“Okay…” Abdul’s eyes opened wide. He stammered over his words, though he had nothing to say. What was Chumbers’s plan?
“My wife just gave birth,” Captain Chumbers said.
“Congratulations. Is that your first child?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, awesome,” Abdul said. This was such an awkward situation he wasn’t sure how to muster up any enthusiasm. He blushed. It seemed that Captain Chumbers wanted something, but Abdul didn’t know what. “That’s really great. Cool. It’s cool to be a dad.”
“She lives in Georgia. That’s where I’s from,” he said. He had only a trace of an accent, but now that Abdul knew it was there, he couldn’t unhear the drawl dripping broadly from his voice.
“Oh. I’ve never been to Georgia. It’s… uh, it’s hot there, right?-” Abdul gulped. This closet was feeling more and more cramped with every passing moment.
“I haven’t seen her in almost a year. We talk on the phone, but it’s not the same.”
“Yeah, I understand. That’s tough.”
“I haven’t seen any women in almost a year.”
“Really?”
“I mean… not literally,” Captain Chumbers said. “I’ve seen women, of course. But I haven’t been with one or even flirted with one.”
“Oh, yeah, that must be difficult-“
“When I was a cadet…” His voice trailed off. “Officers were allowed to order cadets to do pretty much anything. On my first day, my commander ordered me to bend over and grab my ankles. You can guess where it went from there.”
“Yeah-“
“But that isn’t allowed anymore. Cussing is ‘gainst the rules now,” Captain Chumbers said with a dismissive scoff. He came closer to Abdul.
“Hmm-hmm.”
“I’m going to order you to do something in a moment,” he said. He frowned and blushed, averting his eyes, appearing nervous for the first time since he had come in this room. “I’m gonna make it seem like you have to do it. But you don’t. I just… I don’t want to have a conversation about it.”
“Okay…”
“I’ve been giving and receiving orders for so long, it’s hard for me to interact normally,” he said. “If you say no, or walk away, that’s fine. I won’t stop you.”
“Captain Chumbers, what are you doing? What is this?”
“Take off my clothes, sailor,” he said. His voice was soft and weak, so Abdul at first thought he had misheard.
“Sir?”
“I said take off my clothes, sailor!” he barked with the stentorian tone of a drill sergeant who expected utter obedience.
Obedience was something Abdul could provide. He jumped to his feet before he even thought about it. It was difficult to disobey someone like that. He stood there for a moment, calculating his options. Of course the idea of servicing some studly navy officer was alluring to Abdul, who did appreciate the male form and physique, but was that what was really happening here?
His pristine white uniform was tight, a little too small for him, and it was stiff, starched. The fabric was firmer than Abdul had expected. His heart raced as he fumbled with the buttons. He had never taken off a navy officer’s uniform before.
“Quicker, sailor!”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Abdul said. His voice trembled and broke. He blushed. Why was he calling him sir? He didn’t need to. Chumbers simply exuded such authority that Abdul felt no choice but to show him the respect of an underling.
This was probably how that babyfaced secretary reacted when Chumbers gave him an order, Abdul thought.
Underneath that uniform shirt, Chumbers wore a plain white t-shirt, bleached white, presumably by some sailor who worked in the laundry. It was also perfectly clean. His colorful tattoos were more visible now that only the t-shirt separated them from — there was a fight scene between two knights on horseback on his left bicep, and a tractor on his right. An American flag waved in the wind over his heart, the vibrant colors visible through his t-shirt. He had a broad, muscular chest with a few tufts of hair on it. Abdul gulped.
Abdul tried to take off that t-shirt, but Captain Chumbers was so much taller than him that he couldn’t do much more than lift it up to his shoulders. That put Abdul’s fingers beneath the fabric, however, and he shivered with anticipation as he brushed past those powerful pecs, which flexed beneath his touch. Chumbers’s was broad and muscular, and it exuded warmth that enveloped Abdul.
“I can’t lift your shirt all the way up.”
“If’n you don’t address your superior officer smartly, I swear I’ll rip ya dick off, sailor!”
“Uh… Sir! I can’t lift your t-shirt up all the way, sir! You’re too tall, sir! Or… I’m too short. Sir.”
“Then you might have to put me on my knees, sailor!” he said. He still stood straight as an arrow, at attention, with his hands clenched into fists as though he was going to beat Abdul any moment.
“Uh… Okay. Sir,” Abdul said. He had to stand on his toes to reach Captain Chumbers’s shoulders, then he gently pushed down. He had no leverage, and even if he had, Captain Chumbers outweighed Abdul by at least a hundred pounds of solid muscle. So he did not, in any meaningful sense, push him down.
But nevertheless, Captain Chumbers sunk to his knees as though being forced. His torso remained straight, and his skin puckered as Abdul lifted his t-shirt up. Captain Chumbers raised his arms so Abdul could pull the shirt up and over his head, then lowered them again now that his chest was bare.
Abdul hesitated, not sure what to do next. But Captain Chumbers had said to take off his clothes, not just his shirt, so Abdul did as he was told. He undid Captain Chumbers’s belt and pulled those pure white dress uniform pants down. Since he was on his knees, they didn’t go all the way down, but they did reveal his unfashionable white briefs, which were tight, clean and hugged his plump ass. Kinky black hairs escaped from the elastic waistband.
“Take your dick out, sailor!”
Again Abdul was so nervous he didn’t follow orders right away. This was rather looking like Captain Chumbers intended to bottom — that would explain why he was on his knees and why he demanded Abdul take his own dick out rather than taking Captain Chumbers’s out. But that hardly made any sense. Surely, Abdul thought, a big macho Navy captain like him was a top, if he was willing to jack off with a man at all.
Maybe that was why he mentioned his wife being so far away? Abdul’s heart quickened its beat.
“I said-” He paused because some sailors walked past the closet. Once they were safely out of earshot, he narrowed his eyes in Abdul’s direction. “I said take your cock out now, sailor!” Chumbers barked.
Abdul gulped and did as he was told. He dropped his pants and pulled his dick out of his boxers. His crotch was sweaty because this tiny room was hot, a problem that was worsened by all the heat from the computer equipment in here. It was like a hamam.
“Now, grab my head and put it in position, sailor,” he said. Captain Chumbers still stared straight ahead, his face solid and emotionless. His grizzled jaw worked as though he chewed on his tongue.
“Which, uh… position-?”
“Now!”
Just as before, his tone was so strict Abdul jumped into action instinctually. The only logical position was to force Captain Chumbers’s head low enough that he could swallow Abdul’s dick. Nothing else made sense, even if that also didn’t really make sense given the situation. But Abdul hurried to follow orders, and once again, Captain Chumbers did as he was “forced” to do. His upper body awkwardly stooped over so that his face was right in front of Abdul’s dick, which was half-hard even though neither of them had touched it yet.
The situation was so arousing that Abdul’s cocked jerked, resulting in it brushing against Captain Chumbers’s lips. He gagged lightly and winced.
“Sorry.”
“Sailor, what did I say about addressing me as sir.”
“Sorry, sir. I, uh… I should have said… Sorry, sir,” Abdul said. “I mean, I’m sorry I didn’t say sir when I said sorry, sir. I mean, I said sorry, but not sir, and now… I’m sorry, sir. I-” He cut himself off because he realized he was babbling and thought he looked like an idiot.
“Open my mouth,” he said. “Use your hands to open my mouth, sailor!”
“Oh… what? Are you sure? Sir?” Abdul asked. His voice stammered, certain he had misheard the command. Was this man really going to bottom? In Turkish culture, a man was either a top or a bottom, strictly, no exceptions.
“Jacking off wasn’t even allowed in this navy until recently, sailor,” Chumbers said. “You are going to have to force my mouth open, sailor.”
Abdul’s mind raced. He flopped his dick against Captain Chumbers’s lips, which were pursed shut tightly. Again Captain Chumbers winced as though he found it disgusting, like Abdul’s dick was gonna make him gag. Abdul gripped his jaw to spread his mouth open.
His fingers seemed so small in comparison to Captain Chumbers’s big head and thick jaw. His cheeks and chin were shaved smooth but Abdul could already feel a bit of the day’s stubble growing in. He gently pulled Captain Chumbers’s jaws apart.
Despite being forced, it was apparent that Captain Chumbers didn’t resist. When Abdul just exerted a bit of pressure on his jaw, Captain Chumbers opened wide, though Abdul did feel tension, like he had to fight against himself to do it.
“Now throat me down!” Captain Chumbers said — he had to close his mouth to talk, then opened it again — and he growled at Abdul. “Do it hard and merciless, sailor.”
Abdul’s heart raced, but he didn’t need to be ordered twice. He wedged his dick in and gasped as Captain Chumbers accepted it. He was a big man, so he had a big mouth, and he easily got most of Abdul’s dick in before it reached the back of his throat. Then he gagged, but didn’t stop.
Abdul sighed as pleasure overtook him. His dick was rock-hard now, throbbing in Captain Chumbers’s throat. His fingers held onto his nearly bare head, and Abdul began slowly, gently plowing his mouth, his erection hitting the back of Chumbers’s throat.
That caused Abdul to just stand there. He didn’t want to throat Chumbers down if that wasn’t what he was supposed to do. He figured Chumbers would just do whatever his plan was. If he wanted to deep-throat Abdul, he could do that anytime.
But Captain Chumbers was having none of that — he put his hands behind Abdul’s body, clutching his smooth twink asscheeks, and forcibly made him drill his dick deep into Captain Chumbers’s throat.
It was such an arousing situation that Abdul thought he might blow his load within seconds. That would have been disappointing; he wanted to savor this. But he couldn’t do much to stop himself. He gasped as he plowed Captain Chumbers’s face, balls slapping against his chin. Captain Chumbers choked with every thrust.
His ass was visible, hugged by those tight briefs, down below — since he was stooped way over to swallow Abdul’s dick, his ass jutted out behind him. His big body filled up the small IT closet.
Captain Chumbers pulled away. He still stared straight ahead, looking at the saliva dripping from Abdul’s uncut cock. “Can you reach my ass from there, sailor?!”
“Uh…” Abdul strained to reach forward, pushing his cock and balls against Captain Chumbers’s face. His dickskin was so sensitive he could easily feel that day’s stubble scratching against his flesh. He shuddered as he smeared precum all over Captain Chumbers’s nose and cheeks. His hand barely reached his ass. “Sort of, sir.”
“Well, you better find a way to get your finger in my ass, sailor, or I’ll dish out a big barrel full of serious trubs!” Captain Chumbers barked, his voice muffled by Abdul’s cock. He reopened his mouth and swallowed Abdul’s dick. He also raised his hips as far as he could, which put his ass within reach. Abdul didn’t know what trubs meant, but he assumed it was some American idiom, and he got the gist of it.
Abdul slipped his hand under those tight white briefs, shuddering with desire as he felt Chumbers’s powerful asscheeks clench. Abdul stroked his sweaty asscrack, then hesitated as his finger massaged the rim of his asshole.
He didn’t need Captain Chumbers to order him onto the next step. Abdul could tell what he was about to say. He plunged his finger in, which made Captain Chumbers arch his back. He gurgled around Abdul’s dick, and saliva dribbled out past his lips. Chumbers grunted as his face turned ruddy.
Since he had to stretch to reach his asshole at all, Abdul couldn’t fit more than the tip of his middle finger in. But that was enough to loosen Captain Chumbers’s ass up. It clenched tightly but submitted to Abdul’s fingering.
He pulled off and looked up at Abdul with stern eyes, the first time he had made direct eye contact since this began. He didn’t need to bark his order this time before Abdul guessed what it was, but Abdul did wait for him to say it.
“Now you got two seconds to get ya dick in my ass before I beat’choo senseless, sailor!”
“Yes, sir!” Abdul was wedged between him and the wall, so he had to awkwardly squeeze out of the way — Captain Chumbers didn’t move to make it easy for him. Abdul gripped Captain Chumbers’s back for support as he climbed around him.
It did take more than two seconds, but Abdul didn’t think he was actually timing it. Captain Chumbers’s asshole twinkled as Abdul rammed his cock in, rushing to get it in before Chumbers changed his mind.
For a moment, all was silence. Then Captain Chumbers grunted and moaned in a combination of pain and pleasure. He lifted his head up and gripped the wall tightly. Abdul had to stand on his toes while Captain Chumbers bent his knees to help him get in position.
“Ram me harder, sailor! Don’t think I won’t throw you overboard if you don’t!” he shouted at the wall through gritted teeth. It was obvious he was in pain, but from the rippling of his back muscles, it was obvious he experienced intense bliss as well. He was so much taller that Abdul’s head was pressed against the meaty center of Captain Chumbers’s back. He felt like a child riding his father, and he had never felt so small.
Plowing back and forth with as much power as he could muster, Abdul gripped Captain Chumbers’s sides for support. He humped his hips to pump his dick all the way in and out of Chumbers’s tight asshole, uncaring of Captain Chumbers’s instinctive clenching and grunting.
“Now, grab my dick, sailor!” he said, and then without even giving Abdul the chance to comply, he repeated himself. “Now! You don’t look like the kind of man who would be so rude as to cornhole a man without the common courtesy of a reacharound, are you? Are you that kind of man?”
“Uh, no sir,” Abdul said, his voice nervous and strained. He again had to struggle to reach, but this was easier than reaching his ass had been. As soon as he touched Captain Chumbers’s dick, it spasmed, spewing precum. He was obviously very near orgasm, despite the pain he was in.
He stroked, and the sensation was so exquisite that Captain Chumbers writhed. He gasped, and Abdul did too. His ass clenched on Abdul’s dick as though going to squeeze his dick off with his sphincter, which sent a thrill of arousal up Abdul’s spine.
Captain Chumbers heaved and moaned. His muscles undulating, flexing as an orgasm ran through him. Abdul could actually see the orgasm flow up his back in the contortions of his muscles. Abdul licked the sweat that trickled down his spine, holding on for dear life — he wasn’t even really ramming anymore, since he couldn’t get much leverage on his toes. Captain Chumbers’s body writhed, and his hips pushed back and forth, so all the power and motion came from Captain Chumbers instead of Abdul.
The cum flowed from Captain Chumbers’s dick so suddenly that Abdul gasped in surprise. He shot a huge load, most of which landed on Abdul’s fingers. His ass tightened again, which sent Abdul over the edge as well. He exclaimed in Turkish as he bucked atop Captain Chumbers’s expansive ass.
He shot his own load moments later, yelping and squealing when the exquisite pleasure rolled over him. He clutched at Captain Chumbers’s back and held on tight. He had never experienced such an intense orgasm, heightened this time by the awkward positioning and the difficult situation. A part of him still worried he was getting in serious trouble.
But then it was all over. They both limpened at once, and Captain Chumbers took a deep breath. He sighed. Abdul’s knees went weak, and he leaned into Captain Chumbers’s back for support.
“Get your dick outta me, sailor,” Captain Chumbers said with a growl. He no longer sounded like he enjoyed the plowing, and Abdul hurriedly pulled away. His cock popped right out.
“Sorry, uh, sir-“
“Shut up,” he said. “Make me suck my cum off your fingers, sailor.”
Abdul again hesitated, but Captain Chumbers turned around. He lowered his head until it was near Abdul’s cum-coated hand. But he stopped there, mouth open, waiting for Abdul.
It looked like Captain Chumbers was going to punish him for his delay, so Abdul hurriedly rammed his fingers in. Captain Chumbers’s mouth was so big Abdul could probably have fit his entire first in, but he didn’t. He just put his fingers in, and Captain Chumbers sucked off every drop of cum.
Then he dropped Abdul’s hand and pushed him away. Abdul breathed a sigh of relief that this was over. He pulled his pants up while Captain Chumbers put his dress uniform back on. His shirt was crooked, and Abdul fixed it for him.
“Thank you,” Captain Chumbers said. “I hope… I hope our Internet breaks again sometime.”
“Yeah me too.”
“I’ll be sure to call you.”
“Okay!” Abdul blushed. He hadn’t mean to sound so eager. “If you ever wanna…-“
“No, I don’t want to. You’re going to have to hold me down if you want to plow me again,” Captain Chumbers said. He gently rubbed Abdul’s smooth cheeks. “You look like a girl. You wouldn’t last ten minutes in the Navy.”
“Yeah… No, probably not,” Abdul said. He had never even considered joining the military.
“Get this Internet fixed,” Captain Chumbers said. “Now.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
When Elton comes home and finds a big-ass Baltimore thug waiting for him, he thought he was in for a robbery. But it turns into the most outrageous episode of twink on top yet!
Read The Baltimore Alpha as an ebook!
Or read it here in its entirety!
Elton stumbled home late at night. He had been very drunk earlier, but he stopped drinking because he struck out. He knew if he kept drinking, he’d get sleepy. He’d wind up napping in the men’s room or in the alley behind the building. That’d happened before. He wanted to stay up long enough to find a woman who wanted to come with him. So he ate bread and drank coffee, then returned to the nightclub for another few hours of dancing.
And in the end, he came home dazed, tired and alone. He had been totally unable to meet a likable woman. Or even a tolerable one. Women were positively awful these days, he thought.
“Hello.”
Elton screamed. Someone was in his apartment. He hurried to a lamp, flicked it on and then fumbled for his cell phone.
A tall thick-bodied black man in a red shirt and doo rag stood in front of Elton, frowning at him. He gently picked the cell phone out of Elton’s hand, and Elton was too surprised and drunk to hold onto it. His heart pounded in his chest, which had never felt thinner than it did now, standing next to this sculpted mountain of well-muscled meat.
“Who are you? What are you doing?” Elton asked, though the answer was obvious — this was a robber. He was robbing. He was engaged in burglary. The question was superfluous. Elton blushed.
“Yo, hush up yo’ mouth, man,” he said as though surprised and offended that Elton responded badly to his home invasion. He scoffed and placed one hand over Elton’s mouth. “I say shut yo’ mouth, man.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Elton said through the man’s hand, which tasted. Tears twinkled in Elton’s eyes as he saw visions of this gigantic gangbanger strangling him.
He shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Damn, man, all whitebois sound like absolute freaks to me,” he said. He took a deep breath. “My name is Dumphry. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I ain’t gonna rob you. That ain’t why I’m here. If I take my hand off yo’ mouth, you gonna scream?” When Elton didn’t respond right away, he added, “I’m here to give you money, man.”
“What?”
“That got yo’ attention, huh?” Dumphry said. He dropped his hand. “Look, you don’t know me, I get that. I scared ya. I’s sorry ‘bout that. I here to give you five thousand dollars and a night wit’ any of these whores.” He handed over his own cell phone, after opening up a folder of pictures. Beautiful women, mostly black, in skimpy stripper-type outfits made sexy poses in pic after pic. Elton’s heart raced too fast for him to think about what was happening.
“Okay… What?”
“You remember last week? You was that coffee shop on Lennox?”
“What? Well… Yeah, I go there a lot. I’m writing a novel. It’s about a time-traveling florist who solves crimes-“
Dumphry grunted. He put two fingers on Elton’s lips. “Nah. Never tell a black man about a novel.”
“Uh… Yes, sir, okay.” Elton winced. Why am I calling him sir?
“There were two people there too. Remembuh? A white woman and a nigga. You was checkin’ out the woman the whole damn time, eyeing her like she a steak and you a Béarnaise sauce. You remembuh her?”
“No,” Elton said. He felt like he was going to cry, especially if he got beat up for looking at this guy’s woman, which hadn’t even happened. He remembered the woman, but he didn’t remember her being attractive and he certainly never “checked her out”.
Dumphry shut his mouth and cocked his head to the side. “You denyin’ it?”
“Yeah! I deny it. Consider it denied, man.”
“Well… Fuckin’ shit,” he said. “I guess…”
“I won’t steal your girlfriend, is that what you’re worried about?” Elton said.
“She weren’t my girlfriend.”
“You weren’t even the black guy. He was different, he was more handsome, and he had a mustache.”
Dumphry frowned again, cuz that seemed to be his default response. His muscular chest rippled. He was built like a professional athlete, and he had a thick beard. Tattoos poked out from under his red shirt. A heavy gold crucifix dangled around his neck. “Don’chu ever compare another man to me and find me wanting. Nevuh.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
“You was checkin’ out that girl.”
“I wasn’t! Were you there? How did you see me?”
“It’s on the security camera,” he said.
“Well, don’t hurt me! I just thought it was weird because she wasn’t cute, not really, I didn’t understand why they were together.”
“They ain’t ‘together’,” Dumphry said. “She was a cop. She is a cop.”
“Oh.”
“She was in the papers yesterday, ain’t you see that? Arrested fo’ corruption and shit.”
“Really?”
“Nothin’ important. She just let some pills get sold, that’s all. Medicine.”
“Oh, well, that’s not bad.”
“Nah. She cool and all,” he said. He ran his fingers through his beard and nervously shifted his weight on his feet. “Well, I give you five grand to say you heard ‘em talkin’ ‘bout making love. You gotta call it that. They’s in love.”
“They’re in love? Why do they need me-?”
“Look, it’s better if it’ll be a surprise. You won’t hafta act like you ain’t know what’s goin’ on,” he said. “But sooner or later, someone is gonna ask if you heard what they was talkin’ about. You don’t look like a snitch, whiteboi.”
“I’m not! I just… I don’t understand. I didn’t hear what they were saying.”
“Not good enough. Tell ‘em they’s having an affair.”
“Tell who?”
“Whoever axes, motherfucker,” he said. “You get five grand, remembuh that? Five grand and some fine pussy from the Bloods stable. Any kinda pussy you want. You want blonde? We got blonde.”
“I don’t want any pussy,” Elton said.
Dumphry paused. “Lemme call someone. Maybe I can hook you up wit’ somethin’ else,” he said. He called a number, looked down at his feet and bit his lip. “Hey. Yeah. I’m here now, wit’ him. I dunno, he ain’t say yes or no yet. I don’t think that’ll work. He weren’t checking out that bitch. Yeah.”
Elton grimaced. “I won’t snitch, I’m not like that. It’s not — I don’t, uh… premarital sex… I don’t see prostitutes.”
“He said he’s a wuss, not man enough for a whore.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Dumphry shushed him with a wave of his big meaty hand. “Uh-huh. What? No shit? What about Kinsey? Oh.” Then Dumphry made eye contact with Elton, opened his eyes wide and stumbled nervously over his words. “What?! Oh… Ok… Okay. No! I ain’t-” He closed his eyes and shook his head, then whispered, facing away from Elton. “I done… a few things, or whatever. You know… Man, nigga… Not since high school and shit. I ain’t nevuh… done all that.” Then Dumphry paused for a long time, sighed dramatically and said, “Okay. Yeah, I’ll do it. I said I’ll do it, ain’t I? Yes, I’m sure. You want a note? Fine. Yeah Later, nigga.” Another long pause. The person on the other end repeated something a few times, then Dumphry finally acknowledged it. “Yeah, I ‘ll have him write a note. One love.” The he hung up.
“Are you okay?”
“I… you a cross-dresser?”
“No.”
“Can you be? You got girl’s clothes here? That’d be easier fo’ me.”
“No,” Elton said. “What is going on?”
“My boss said I gotta do it.”
“Do what?”
“You. Or whatever, you can do me,” Dumphry said. He took off his shirt, revealing a powerful chest covered with gray and blue ink. He kept that gold crucifix on and even kissed the cross. “You gotta write a note.”
“A note?”
“My boss is named Carson. When we’re done, you gotta write him a note sayin’ I let you do whatever you want to me,” Dumphry said. He handed over a wad of bills. “And here’s that five grand.”
“So I get five grand and…?”
“You can plow me up behind if you want,” Dumphry said.
“Really?”
He blanched but nodded as he dropped his sagging jeans. “Can we get this over with?” He had on loose boxers with a big bulge in the crotch, the sight of which made Elton’s eyes bulge out. He wasn’t a sissy, but he had to admit cornholing a massively muscular black man was somehow alluring.
“I don’t wanna… ram you,” Elton said. “I mean… I’ll just do whatever you’re comfortable with.” He grabbed a note pad and started writing a note to “Carson”. He glanced up at Dumphry, who stood there in his red boxers, watching Elton with confusion in his deep-set eyes. “I’ll write a note now. You can tell Carson you did what you were supposed to.”
“Really?”
Elton nodded. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. He bit his lip. “I’m gonna look into it. If that cop-lady is accused of doing something worse than letting people sell pills, I’m not gonna tell any lies,” he said. “Tell me now, is it more than that?”
“I swear, that’s it. Speeding tickets too,” he said. “She gets us outta speeding tickets.”
“Okay, well, that’s fine,” Elton said.
“You can do… I mean… whatever,” Dumphry said. He dropped his boxers, then flopped his massive cock left and right between both hands. “I’m glad you ain’t a snitch. If you wanna mess around…”
“Why don’t we just get started? You can always say no,” Elton said. “I’ll stop. You’re like three times my size, don’t be nervous, I can’t force you into anything.” Elton felt nervous and skinny without his clothes on, next to this barrel-chested gangbanger.
His skin was too dark to blush, but Dumphry made a face like he was blushing on the inside. He nodded furtively. He winced and looked at his feet.
Elton rammed his hand into Dumphry’s crotch and held onto his cock. It was hot and sweaty, and it pulsated in Elton’s grasp.
“Aw, damn, nigga…” Dumphry’s big body flexed and rippled, all his muscles tightening at once. He trembled, then steeled his nerves as his massive cock grew hotter in Elton’s hand. Elton gave it just one stroke, and it twitched.
As his cock throbbed in Elton’s grip, Dumphry shook and moaned, like he was upset with himself for enjoying the sensation of Elton’s hand caressing his manhood. Elton was down to his own t-shirt and underwear, still feeling a little too self-conscious to get fully naked.
Instead, he used his free hand to take Dumphry’s right hand and place it in Elton’s boxers. Both of them sucked in their breaths. Dumphry was a foot taller than Elton and much heavier, so his hand was much bigger. It made Elton’s cock seem small in comparison. Dumphry winced, and his thick-fingered hand wrapped around Elton’s dick.
“Jack me off, okay?”
Dumphry’s whole body roiled as his fingers awkwardly encircled Elton’s cock. His beard trembled. His hand moved up and down on Elton’s shaft, slow and steady.
It would have been a terrible handjob, Elton thought, if it weren’t for the context and situation — but Elton loved Dumphry’s nervous, alpha-male awkwardness. His hand gingerly rubbed Elton’s dick to full erection. Elton’s knees went weak, and he would have gladly done nothing else, but knowing Dumphry would do whatever he said, Elton felt an urge to see how much he could get away with.
Pulling down both sets of boxers, Elton felt his anxiety melt away as he thwacked both dicks against each other. Seeing them together made it clear that Elton’s cock was quite a bit smaller the than Dumphry’s when soft, but once Elton got an erection, their dicks were very nearly the same size. Dumphry’s was thicker and veinier, and something about it felt right in Elton’s hand.
Both shafts got hard in Elton’s hand. Dumphry’s body was stiff and unmoving, his knees bent so his cock lined up with Elton’s much shorter body. Dumphry’s dick stayed soft, but Elton kept stroking it anyway.
When Elton strained to reach upward and place one hand on Dumphry’s shoulder, he intended to simply caress the man’s corded muscles. He rarely got the chance to feel up someone who was so strong.
But Dumphry apparently took it as a request for him to get on his knees. He winced and did so. “Damn, whiteboi…” He opened his mouth to swallow Elton’s cock, then opened his eyes too and realized that wasn’t going to work — he was so much taller that even on his knees, his mouth only lined up with Elton’s nipples. “Shit, you’s a short-ass whiteboi,” he said with a staccato laugh, like he was making an accusation.
Elton sat down on the couch, giving Dumphry a more workable angle. Elton’s dick spasmed, excited, begging for attention. Elton couldn’t believe his night had turned out like this — he struck out with every woman in Baltimore, and now he got seemingly one of the toughest thugs in the city swallowing his manhood.. Dumphry leaned forward to bury his nose in Elton’s crotch. Elton moaned even before the man’s moist tongue hit his shaft, sending spasms of pleasure up his spine.
Dumphry swallowed his dick in one smooth motion, his nose burying itself in Elton’s pubic hair. He gagged and sputtered, but didn’t slow down, even when Elton’s cock hit the back of his throat. His thick lips caressed Elton’s dick, sending droplets of drool into Elton’s shaved, smooth crotch. Dumphry’s heavy crucifix dangled, its cold metal surface bumping into Elton’s thighs as Dumphry’s head bobbed in his crotch.
He looked up at Elton, eyes watering, whether from disgust or lack of oxygen or surprised arousal, or a mixture of all three, Elton didn’t know which. He gripped Dumphry’s head and guided him up and down, gently at first, then more firmly, using Dumphry’s big-man head like a fleshlight.
And it did feel startlingly like a vagina, Elton thought. Sparks of pleasure erupting through his body, Elton stood on his toes and sucked in his breath. Sweat dappled his forehead.
“Ah, damn, Dumphry, you swallow dick good…” Elton chuckled. He felt more confident than he had since this started, maybe more confident than he had felt in years.
His tongue caressed Elton’s shaft. It was slow and hesitant at first, but became quicker the more time passed. Elton moaned, leaning back on the couch.
Elton watched Dumphry’s big round ass shake as he struggled to swallow Elton’s now throbbing cock. He couldn’t see the man’s asshole from his seat on the couch, but he could tell it was puckering at the thought of being plowed. Elton felt a rush of arousal as he realized that Dumphry was not going to tell him no — it seemed Dumphry either secretly wanted to do this or was afraid of disappointing his boss, or maybe a bit of both.
He leaned forward again and spread Dumphry’s asscheeks. He had a perfectly plump ass with nice round cheeks and a hairy crack. Elton inserted his pinkie finger, ringing the hole, while his free hand felt around for the nightstand by the couch. Inside the drawer there was a tube of lube.
He spread some of that lube on his fingers, then rubbed it into Dumphry’s ass. Dumphry arched his back at the cold feeling, but he didn’t stop working his head up and down Elton’s shaft. He gagged again as he struggled to deep-throat Elton’s smooth meat.
His cell phone rang. Dumphry picked up his phone, looked at the screen and groaned. “It’s Carson,” he said, a few tendrils of spit connecting his thick lips to Elton’s cock. Dumphry wiped his face off and answered the phone. “Yo. I’m doin’ it now.” He sighed. “Fine…” He switched the phone to speaker. “Okay, you’re on, Carson.”
Yo, whiteboi, you there?
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Whatchoo doin’ right now?
“I’m, uh, getting dome from Dumphry while I finger his ass,” Elton said.
Good. He give good dome? Carson chuckled throatily.
“Yeah. He’s doing great,” Elton said, his voice gaspy cuz his dick was still throbbing with sensations, though Dumphry was standing there like a naked lump of clay.
Lemme tell you, this nigga Dumphry be fuckin’ up left and right. You into anything kinky that don’t require a woman?
“Not really…”
That’s a pity. If you wanna whup him or somethin’, you go ahead. Make him drink peepee if you want.
“Carson! Come on, nigga!” Dumphry said. “Don’t tell a white man to whup me!”
I thought you was swallowin’ dick, nigga? Why ain’t yo’ mouth full?
“Sorry, man…” Dumphry went back to his knees. He held onto Elton’s dick but didn’t stroke it or put his mouth on it.
Lemme hear it. Put the phone near that nigga mouth, Mistuh White Man..
Elton did as he was told. Pleasure wracked his body again as Dumphry resumed deep-throating him. He wrinkled his nose and subdued a gag. Dumphry his arm across his belly like to keep the gags in. His lips spread around it, like he was hoping it wouldn’t come into contact with his lips or tongue.
Make it noisy, nigga.
Dumphry started gurgling, suckling loudly. Carson cackled and either clapped or slapped his thigh, maybe both. Moist sounds emanated from Dumphry’s mouth, and clods of saliva slipped down Elton’s shaft.
Hey Mistuh White Man, is his dick hard?
Elton had to peer underneath his body to check. “No,” he said.
Carson sounded surprised. Lemme hear that finger in his ass too.
“You know I can record it,” Elton said. “You can watch the whole thing-“
No! I don’t wanna watch that shit! Just lemme hear it.
Elton fumbled with using one hand to hold the phone in place, while the other continued to finger him. It made a moist penetration sound, but it wasn’t very loud.
I ain’t hear him beggin’ for you to stop.
“Well… You said I could do whatever I wanted with him, right? I’m not tryin’ to torture him. I just put my pinkie finger in there.”
You don’t understand. He been fuckin’ up-
“Then you finger him, Carson!” Elton said. “You want me to do it, I’ll do it my own way.”
There was a long silence, then Carson burst into deep-chested barrel laughter. I like you, Mistuh White Man. You got balls. He got balls, Dumphry? Huh? Huh?
“Yeah, nigga, he got balls,” Dumphry croaked, his mouth full of saliva and precum.
Lemme hear you suck on ‘em.
Lowering his head, Dumphry gagged as soon as Elton’s moist sac slipped past his lips. His coarse beard scratched at Elton’s shaft and thighs, which would have been uncomfortable if this entire scenario weren’t so sexy. Dumphry had to really stoop, nearly laying on the ground, to get his face under Elton’s balls.
Sounds like some nice ripe balls, Dumphry. How they taste? Huh? You can take a break to answer.
“They taste like sweaty balls, Carson!” he snapped, then gagged so hard and so suddenly it seemed to surprise Dumphry himself.
Elton stood. He wanted to take control of the situation, so he withdrew his finger from Dumphry’s ass, stood up and got behind him. Dumphry was still on all fours, his thick ass trembling in the air. “I’m gonna plow him now, Carson. You wanna listen to that too?”
Yeah. Put the phone on the small of his back, Mistuh White Man.
Elton did as he was told. He put the phone on Dumphry’s rumbling back, and he massaged the man’s broad muscles as he worked his dick between those tight cheeks. His back muscles rippled, and his asscheeks jiggled. Dumpy clenched his mouth shut.
As soon as the tip pushed in, Dumphry lifted his head up and let out a low, slow growl. Elton felt unimaginable pleasure suffusing his system, his dick squeezing in to that muscular ass.
You regrettin’ bein’ mouthy wit’ me, Dumphry?
“Yes, Carson! I weren’t bein’ mouthy wit’ you anyways! You just a fuckin’ control freak ‘nd shit!”
You gettin’ mouthy again. go up him harder, Mistuh White Man. Make ‘im cry.
“Carson… I’m hanging up the phone now,” Elton said. He picked up the phone as his dick squeezed a little further in. Dumphry moaned loudly, in a mixture of pleasure and pain, or maybe just pain but he was showing off for Carson’s benefit.
You got spunk, Mistuh White Man. You wanna sling dope fo’ me-?
Elton hung up the phone before he finished his question. He threw the phone onto the couch near where Dumphry buried his head in the cushions. Then Elton could really get to ramming, forcing the rest of his dick into those broad cheeks. That sent a wave of sensations through Elton’s petite frame.
Dumphry’s muscles flexed all together, as though it required every muscle group to take cock in his ass. He bit his lip and grunted, hooting and howling — he must have been holding back on making noise because he didn’t want to give Carson the satisfaction of knowing how intense this was.
“Hey, uh… man,” Dumphry said, his voice nervous and pinched. “Will you… gimme a reacharound? I’d feel bettuh ’bout this if I got a reacharound. My uncle always said-” He paused for a moment to wince in pain. He looked at his ass, then looked away. “My uncle is always said a man don’t lose face so long as he get a reacharound outta it. He was a Marine though, you know how they is…”
Elton was so overwhelmed by his pleasure that he didn’t understand those words at first. Then he shivered with delight as he realized Dumphry had become rock-hard since Elton penetrated him — he must enjoy prostate stimulation.
He reached around Dumphry’s body and gave his dick a squeeze. His manhood was like an iron rod, and Elton felt his orgasm roiling already within the veiny meat of his cockshaft. With every thrust of Elton’s dick past his prostate, Dumphry moaned and vibrated, muscles trembling as his orgasm approached.
“Oh god, yes!”
Then Elton’s climax overwhelmed him. Intense bliss washed over him, and Elton’s spine arched. He gripped Dumphry’s broad back with his free hand, while Dumphry’s cock spasmed. Precum leaked copiously down Elton’s hand.
A jolt of cum sprayed within Dumphry’s ass, which clenched around Elton’s cock. At the same moment, Dumphry shot his own wad into Elton’s hand, as though he had been triggered by creamy cum striking his prostate.
As unimaginable pleasure moved through both their body, Elton felt up his own nipples. It was like the climax moved in waves between them, from Elton’s dick to Dumphry’s ass to Dumphry’s dick to Elton’s hand and back through the cycle all over again. They both writhed, Dumphry’s muscles contorting beneath Elton’s tender grasp.
Then it was all over. Elton stayed there for a moment, his dick limpening inside Dumphry, who remained still. His big chest heaved, back dappled with sweat above those gangbanger tats.
Elton pulled out, but left his moist dick there wedged in Dumphry’s asscrack. He had always loved it when a top did that after sex, though he wasn’t sure if a straight boy like Dumphry would like it so much. He let his dick marinate there in the mess of fluids that leaked out Dumphry’s hole.
“Lemme taste my nut,” Dumphry murmured. “I always wanted to taste it, but I guess there ain’t no better time than now.”
Much to his surprise, Dumphry grabbed Elton’s hand, the one that had been stroking Dumphry off, and licked the fingertips. He gagged profusely at the taste of his own cum, but he licked every inch of Elton’s hand clean. Cum stuck to his lips and his kinky-haired beard.
They remained there for a long time. Elton had no idea how long. It only ended when the phone buzzed again.
Dumphry roared in frustration, picked it up and grunted. He handed the phone to Elton. “He want you to take a picture of my ass wit’ yo’ cum dripping from it,” he said.
Elton laughed as he did so. It was a beautiful sight, and he made sure to send himself a copy as well. A minute or two later, Carson sent a smiley-face back.
Elton sat on the couch and kissed Dumphry on the lips. He was awkward at first, somehow both limp and stiff at once, but then he pushed his tongue into Elton’s mouth and kissed back.
“I hope that wasn’t so bad,” Elton said when they dislipped.
Dumphry shrugged and took a deep breath, like he was glad it was over even if it had been exhilarating while it happened. “It was okay. I’m gonna tell Carson I hated it. I’m gonna tell him I begged you to stop,” he said. “If I tell him it was okay, he’ll make me do it again. He’ll make the whole crew gangbang me.”
“Sounds like kind of a prick.”
“Yeah,” Dumphry said. “He is.” He stood up and stretched his sore legs. He winced as he put his clothes back on, tucking that massive slab of mandingo meat back in his sagging shorts. “You’ll say what I told you to say? ‘Bout that cop in the coffee shop?”
“Of course,” Elton said.
“Okay. Hey, whiteboi… I might come back and see you again. That okay?”
Elton smiled and patted Dumphry on the back. “I look forward to that, and I’ll try to keep witnessing crimes for you.”
Chapter One
When the guard said Lamar’s cellmate was a man named ‘Wendell White’, Lamar Casper was relieved — he sounded like an accountant done up on embezzlement charges. That has gotta be some prissy whiteboi he could control.
So Lamar’s jaw dropped when he stepped into the tiny cell and saw Thumper, as Wendell White preferred to be known. He was a burly man in his mid-forties, maybe fifties, with a powerhouse body and a towering frame, no longer perfectly carved but still bristling with strength underneath inked, callused skin. He looked at Lamar and gave him a slim-eye nod.
“You got the top bunk, youngblood,” was all he said, his voice deep and rumbling like a distant volcano. He returned to the Bible study book he was reading.
Lamar moved his stuff onto the shelf beside his bunk and silently laid down. Not wanting to attract attention on his first day, Lamar simply stared at the ceiling and kept a tough mien on his face. He knew he was gonna get dubbed a prettyboy in this place, so Lamar had gotta look as rough as he could manage.
Thumper began a series of push-ups, loudly, no doubt hoping to bring Lamar’s attention to how much bigger and stronger he was than him. Lamar knew how prison worked, and Lamar was more than prepared to defend himself. You don’t gotta be huge to show a nigga you mean business. Thumper had the thick barrel-shaped body of a boxer, which Lamar later learned he was decades ago, before coming to prison. His great muscles shifted with every thrust of his chest up and down.
He stood up and faced Lamar, his chest heaving and beaded with sweat. “You get dirty or what?”
“No. What? No…” Lamar said. He was unsure what Thumper meant by ‘get dirty’, but he knew the answer was no.
Thumper frowned like a turtle and nodded. “Okay.”
“Just in case you thinkin’ about messin’ wit’ me, don’t,” Lamar said, “I can take carea myself.”
Thumper stood up on a sarcastic ‘impressed’ face and said, “Well, good for you, youngblood. That’s a good skill to have. But I don’t ram niggas. Maybe an occasional whiteboi, but that’s it. I’m too old for that shit, holding down some squirming bitch, nigga, that ain’t me.”
“Good.”
“Young pretty buck like you, betcha considerin’ it,” Thumper said. He slapped Lamar’s ass beneath his prison uniform pants, then let his hand rest there. He squeezed one cheek affectionately. “You gonna ram some whiteboi sooner or later.”
“No, I won’t,” Lamar said. “I saw you readin’ that Bible. Ain’t nothin’ ’bout ramming whitebois in there.”
“The Lord forgives, youngblood. That’s what makes Him great,” Thumper said. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer. Lamar rolled over, not liking the feeling of Thumper’s hand resting on his ass. Lamar knew men in prison tended to grow accustomed to physical contact, but that was too much for him. Thumper’s hand fell on the bed in front of Lamar, so if Lamar laid back down on his belly, Thumper’d be groping Lamar’s cock. Thumper leaned in close to speak to him and laid his other arm on the bed, so he now took up most of the mattress with his arms, while Lamar was pressed against the wall to avoid touching him. “You rollin’ with somebody?” he asked.
“I’m from California,” Lamar said, “I don’t roll with no one in Baltimore. But I in the Bloods out there.”
His hands snaked up Lamar’s shirt, lifting it to check for gang tattoos. Thumper nodded his approval at the claret B above Lamar’s heart. “Come down here and do some pushups,” Thumper said, “If you gonna be in my organization, you gotta be in shape. Ain’t useful to me as a skinny nigga.”
Lamar got off the bed and removed his shirt. He been playing basketball for years and was more than strong enough, Lamar thought,and he made his pecs bounce. He thought that’d impress Thumper, cuz Lamar was stacked, he looked skinny, people thoughta him as a skinny prettyboy. But Lamar Casper was something. He got meat. Thumper groped him again, feeling Lamar’s meat, his biceps, triceps, lats and pecs.
“Hey,” Lamar said, “You gotta be touchin’ me all the time, nigga?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, “Now gimme fitty, youngblood. You do that three times a day from now on. Before e’rry meal, you do fitty pushups. We’ll add more later, that’s a start.”
“I know how to work out, nigga,” Lamar said. “I ain’t yo’ bitch.”
He stared him down. “I run this organization,” he said, “So unless you wanna be cast out, you gonna have to realize you work for me. You ain’t a bitch… that is a correct ‘stimation of the current sit’ation. I give all my niggas they workout routines. You can’t trust a nigga to do it right. They all dumb in the head, need someone to tell ’em what to do. I know how to train a nigga into a good Blood.” He stepped closer and closer to Lamar and wrapped his arms around Lamar’s waist as though they were about to slow dance. His hands ran up and down Lamar’s torso. “If you don’t let me use this body the way I want, I will find a different way to use it.”
Lamar gulped and stayed quiet. He couldn’t speak without stammering, which would make him look weak, so he kept his mouth shut. Thumper stepped even closer, until they were virtually kissing. Lamar felt Thumper’s cock inside his prison pants, pressing against Lamar’s thigh. It was like a flashlight, one of those big suckers, a D cell flashlight.
“So get down and gimme fitty,” he whispered, so close Lamar could taste the spittle flying off his tongue with each word. “A guard gonna come get us for dinner soon. I told you to do fitty push-ups befo’ then, so if that guard gets here before you done, there gonna be consequences.”
Lamar thought Thumper was going to back away so he could get out from the wall and follow his instructions, but he stood right there. Lamar couldn’t easily move. Lamar finna protest but Thumper threw his eyebrows back. Lamar took a deep breath, inhaling Thumper’s zest, sweat and funk, then tried to squeeze out from afronta him. Thumper gently touched Lamar’s back and belly with his roaming hands but made no effort to stop him from moving. His sweat stuck to Lamar’s shirt, which Lamar took off when he was free.
Lamar wasn’t weak, but he wasn’t sure he could do fifty push-ups, especially not with his hands shaking. He got down and began, hoping his counting-off voice sounded more confident than he felt.
“One. Two. Thr-.”
“Hmm, hmm. Good.” Thumper knelt down near Lamar’s feet, giving him encouragement like a coach. He slapped Lamar’s ass, watching them juicy cheeks jiggle, and Lamar felt Thumper’s cock and balls, dangling beneath his shorts, resting on Lamar’s ankle. Lamar looked back to him, instinctively wanting to protest, but he didn’t. Thumper didn’t seem to notice that Lamar had paused, he was focused on the jiggle of Lamar’s cheeks.
Lamar tried to get the feel of Thumper’s balls on his ankle outta his head and focus on doing the push-ups. Lamar was so terrified that the adrenaline helped him along, but still when he got to forty-two, he collapsed, out-of-breath.
“I can hear that guard comin’, nigga,” he said, pulling down Lamar’s sweatshorts and drawers. “He comin’ closer. You got eight more to do.” He rested his hand on Lamar’s asscheeks and pushed one finger between Lamar’s crack. He let it rest on the surface of Lamar’s asshole, only the thin fabric of Lamar’s prison pants preventing him from penetrating him.
Lamar jumped back into action and did five more without thinking about it, then slowly, wobbly armed and dripping with sweat, Lamar made it through the last couple of push-ups.
He straddled Lamar’s hips, so Lamar could feel Thumper’s heavy thick cock pressing against his asscheeks. He leaned over Lamar’s back, almost laying on top of him. “I know I said I don’t ram niggas, but I do love to make a nigga an exception. So don’t gimme no reason, nigga. Don’t e’er question me again.”
Chapter Two
Thumper was bossy and mean but not violent, so Lamar couldn’t complain too much. Lamar did hate how touchy he was, but he felt better once he saw that Thumper was just as touchy with the other inmates. Thumper had been behind bars so long he was desperate for a little human contact, no matter where it came from, that was Lamar’s conclusion.
At breakfast one night, Lamar saw him wrap one arm around the waist of the man sitting next to him, a Blood named Ruck. As they ate, Ruck straightened his back awkwardly. Lamar saw outta the corner of his eye that Thumper, who continued telling a story about the cop that arrested him, slipped his hand down Ruck’s back and rested his finger inside Ruck’s asscrack. Ruck was a buff bullish nigga whose muscles tightened beneath Thumper’s grasp. His nostrils flared and his eyes darted around like a panicked animal.
When Thumper told Lamar to sit by him the next morning, Lamar dreaded knowing that his finger would likely do the same to him. Lamar was proven correct — it was apparently what he did to whichever nigga sat to his right during a meal. As soon as he finished eating, he put his hand on the small of Lamar’s back and dropped his finger between Lamar’s cheeks. His fingertip rested maybe an inch above Lamar’s butthole.
The other Bloods at the table made eye contact with Lamar, but no one said anything.
When the bell rang to signify the end of breakfast, everyone else stood. Lamar hesitated because Thumper did, and Lamar wasn’t sure Thumper would be okay with him just shoving away from his hand. In the hubbub, Thumper jabbed his finger into Lamar’s ass momentarily. A burst of pain ran up Lamar’s backside.
Lamar yelped, then fell silent and looked away from the smirking Bloods. Thumper clasped Lamar’s shoulder with his ass-stinked middle finger and used him for leverage as he stood. Lamar chose not to make a big deal outta it. It was better just to move on with his day.
When Lamar got back to the cell that night, he was late, having been processed at his prison job all day. Thumper waited for him in his boxers, a big grin on his face.
“I got a surprise tonight, something to welcome you in,” he said. “It should be here any minute. Gimme yo’ routine, nigga.”
Lamar got down on the ground and gave him fifty push-ups, which Lamar got through only because Thumper’s shouted encouragement outweighed the ache in Lamar’s sore shoulders.
Officer Crabgut arrived a few minutes after Lamar finished. He was a mean white man with wide shoulders and a perpetual sneer standing at the doorway in front of a slim Latino with a trembling frown. Crabgut shoved him in.
“You got fifteen minutes,” Crabgut said, “And don’t do nothing that’ll require a visit to the infirmary.” Crabgut closed the door.
The Latin boy shook and clasped his arms across his chest. Thumper approached him and clicked his tongue against his teeth. He placed that stinky middle finger of his right hand on the Latin boy’s mouth. “Sssh,” Thumper said quietly, “What’s your name, boy?”
“Navarone,” he said. He had a lilting Cuban accent.
“Tha’ss right,” Thumper said, “You a snitch, aincha? That’s why Sucio turned you out.”
“I’m not a snitch!”
“Sucio said you was,” Thumper said. He raised his eyebrows like a dubious schoolteacher.
“But I’m not. I didn’t snitch!” he said.
“That’s exactly what snitches usually say,” Thumper said. He looked at him. “Go on. I paid for anal for both us. He got good ass, I ‘xpect. Only started getting plowed a few weeks ago.” He pulled down Navarone’s orange prison pants and slapped his ass. “Yeah, this is nice ass. Like that, nigga! I like that!”
“I dunno,” Lamar said. He ain’t never ramrod a nigga, and he wasn’t expecting to start his first day in prison. He was only gonna be here seven months. “I don’t really need to bust a nut. I could sit this one out.”
“Nonsense,” Thumper said. “I done paid for it.” He smacked Navarone in the backa the head as he bared his cock and slapped it onto Navarone’s trembling asscheeks. “Swallow his dick, bitch.”
Kneeling with a sour look on his face, Navarone pulled down Lamar’s pants and took his dick into his mouth in one smooth motion, keeping eye contact with Thumper. He tentatively licked it, but Thumper pushed his head down deeper. He gagged as Lamar’s cockhead hit the backa his throat.
“Deepthroat it, bitch,” Thumper murmured.
Lamar’s eyes bugged out as his dick firmed up in Navarone’s mouth, much easier than Lamar was expecting. This did not feel erotic to him. It did feel kinda good, but the pleasure seemed very distant. Lamar’s mind remained focused on what Thumper was doing with his hands.
What Thumper was doing with his hands at that point, in fact, was making Navarone spread his asscheeks. Thumper lined himself up behind Navarone. Then, without missing a beat, Thumper slipped his half-erect cock into Navarone’s ass. Navarone grunted in pain around Lamar’s shaft in his mouth.
His cock was only part-hard and ropy still, and Thumper hadta move it around and grumble some before it firmed up enough to really get to ramming. Once he could though, he did, and Lamar couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. Thumper worked his dick deeper inch by inch. He grabbed ahold of Navarone’s hair and placed one hand on the small of his back to keep him in position.
His squirming and choked sputtering made Lamar’s dick lose part of his erection — Navarone’s gagging and pained cries were revolting to him — until Lamar realized Thumper was looking at him like something was wrong with him. Lamar didn’t want to get a reputation as a man who can’t perform.
And it did feel good! It did! It was just hard to enjoy it. Lamar wasn’t horny before this started, or even after. He wanted to get this over with.
Closing his eyes, Lamar pictured his last girlfriend, a dark-haired white girl with a nice ass and huge tits. Lamar played with those tits for hours, and Lamar could almost feel their phantom fleshiness beneath his fingers.
With his eyes closed, it sorta worked. That white girl gave shitty blowjobs, and Navarone did the same. Navarone was more focused on the pain in his ass, that was why. But Lamar got into it enough to fuck Navarone’s throat, and spasms of pleasure struck throughout his body.
Thumper let his cock plop out of Navarone’s ass. His erection throbbed and dripped with precum and the hog fat he used as lube. He chuckled at Navarone’s exaggerated sigh of relief, then moved over to stand next to him.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on, I wanna nut in his mouth,” Thumper said, “Ass to mouth is great. We’ll wreck his throat together. Sucio said he can take anything down his gullet.”
Thumper took Lamar’s now relimpened cock in his hand and frotted it against his own dick, which was slimy with Navarone’s assjuice. He jacked both cocks off together and pushed them both into Navarone’s tremulous mouth. Lamar was horrified at sight of Thumper manhandling his dick, and he sucked in his breath, hands fluttering uselessly in the air. His and Thumper’s cocks smushed together, Thumper’s a long thick hard shaft that was pulsating hot and glistening with moisture, Lamar’s noticeably thinner and fleshier, only half-hard. Navarone opened his mouth as wide as he could, but only their cockheads fit inside.
“Use that tongue, bitch,” Thumper said, “Get all up on my shit, yeah, like that.”
Navarone’s tongue delicately lapped at Thumper’s cockhead, wincing at the saltiness of precum and the foulness of hog fat, not to mention his own asshole. Then Thumper smacked him in the back of the head, loud enough for Officer Crabgut to poke his head back inside the cell.
“Five minutes, gentlemen,” he said, “Then I gotta take the bitch back.” He stayed to watch with a wry smile as Thumper orgasmed without warning, as though he was waiting to make sure Crabgut could see. He moaned and leaned on Lamar for support.
Thumper came a vast burst of jizz, his semen sliding down Lamar’s cockshaft and coating Navarone’s face. Thumper’s muscles all flexed and rippled. Lamar was disgusted and thought he couldn’t cum, but Thumper looked at him like that was not an option.
“Go on, you better finish,” Thumper said, his voice now menacing. He ain’t take his dick away from Navarone’s mouth even now that it was limp
Lamar thought of that girl, his ex, desperately avoiding the feel of Thumper’s cum-slickened cock sliding against his and the stubble of Navarone’s facial hair on Lamar’s skin.The tension maybe made it easier to get hard though. Sex with women could be tense too, Lamar thought, and it did get his cock going.
Navarone finally got to slurping good on Lamar’s cock, while Thumper’s limpness bobbed around on his face. That sent a wave of pleasure through Lamar’s body. Thumper’s hands explored his chest and his back like he wanna feel that pleasure. Lamar sucked in his breath, closed his eyes and stood on his toes as he brought himself to the edge..
Finally Lamar shot a load, the orgasm almost painful. It was thin and watery, and it landed right on the center of Navarone’s tongue. He gagged and squealed, and Lamar breathed a sigh of relief, both from the orgasm and cuz Thumper wasn’t disappointed. He didn’t shoot as much as he was expecting, maybe because of the anxiety of the situation.
But then Thumper grabbed ahold of Lamar’s dick and stroked it casually, just a few quick pumps before he dropped it. Lamar’s dick was ultra-sensitive, so his touch sent a shiver of pain up his body.
Lamar squealed and stepped away. “Lay off me! What the fuck, nigga?” Lamar said. His heart dropped as Lamar said it because Thumper’s face screwed up in anger.
He shoved Lamar against the wall with all his heft. His chest pressed against his, his face millimeters from Lamar’s cheek. Lamar blanched, trying to show strength and confidence. Thumper’s moist cock was hot and heavy against Lamar’s thigh. He eyed him but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, you two have a lover’s squabble or what?” Crabgut said. Navarone waddled, bow-legged, out of the cell.
“That’s right, a lover’s squabble,” Thumper said, his limp dick smeared juices on Lamar’s hips. He kissed him on the cheek. “Nothing but a lover’s squabble.”
Chapter Three
As Lamar grew accustomed to incarceration, things settled into a sort of cruel normalcy. The everyday humiliations of prison life became minor nuisances, and even the food seemed to taste better as memory of a better time faded from Lamar’s grasp.
The one thing Lamar couldn’t get used to was Thumper’s touching. Since he never hit him, the guards wouldn’t intervene, no matter how obvious it was Lamar wanted him to stop. None of the Bloods would back him up either, so Lamar had no choice but to submit and accept it as a part of his prison routine.
About a month into Lamar’s sentence, the air conditioning broke. Lamar begged Thumper to let them take a break from working out until it was fixed, but he looked at him like Lamar was crazy. “The Vasquenzas ain’t gonna stop. The Crips ain’t gonna stop. The Aryan Way ain’t gonna stop.” He continued naming every gang in this prison.
“Okay, okay, I just thought we might wanna keep the sweat down. It smells bad enough in here as it is,” Lamar said.
“Fuck you, nigga. You the stinky one, youngblood,” he said, “Go on, gimme some squat thrusts.”
As soon as Lamar got started, Thumper stripped off his shorts and boxers, so his cock dangled freely in front of him. He stood there watching Lamar and scratched his balls. Lamar knew better than to complain. Why does old nigga got hang his dong out all the time?
Despite the heat and the zesty aroma of old nigga sweat filling up the cell, Lamar managed no to complain as he finished his routine. When Thumper finally told him Lamar was done, Lamar sopped off his sweat with a towel and climbed up to his bed.
“Wait, nigga, come on down here,” he said, “I got somethin’ I been savin’ for a rainy day. Or a sweaty day, whatever.”
Thumper showed him a long, thin blunt. Lamar didn’t see where he had gotten it from, but he must have had it stashed somewhere in the cell. He grinned, and Lamar’s bitterness about his intimacy vanished. Lamar hadn’t gotten high since before his trial.
Lamar sat on the bed next to Thumper. His stark nudity was uncomfortable, but Lamar reminded himself that it was only barely different than the thin layer of fabric Lamar wore. Not really a big deal, Lamar told himself.
He lit the blunt with a strike-anywhere match, and they began passing it back and forth. As always, Thumper answered any questions about pre-prison life with vague handwaving and asked probing questions about him and who Lamar knew in the Bloods back in California.
The first haze in Lamar’s mind appeared. Lamar felt his eyes narrow to slits. In a way, Lamar was glad he hadn’t been able to smoke for a long time cuz it meant Lamar got baked even on Thumper’s tiny blunt.
“You always dodgin’ my questions, Thumper,” Lamar said, feeling bold. “Wuzzup wit’ dat?” Lamar laughed at himself, and Thumper joined in.
“You ain’t wanna know nothin’ ’bout ol’ Thumper,” he said, “I got nothin’ important out there in the real world. No career, no family, no friends. All that’s left of me is what’s in here.”
“Is it true you was a boxer?”
“Shit, I was the best boxer. The Chesapeake Champion,” he said, “Still am. But don’t ax no questions about that, nigga.” He took the roach and dropped it, still lit, in his mouth. He swallowed it and smiled at him. “Hey,” he said, “Gimme yo’ hand.”
Too stoned to think about it, Lamar just extended his hand to him. Thumper took it and caressed it, moving it slowly towards his crotch, Lamar realized he expected a handjob and his heart dropped.
“Hey, stop-“
“Shut yo’ mouth, Lamar,” Thumper said. He whispered, “Don’t you dare say no to me. You still ain’t my bitch. Nobody gotta know what happens in here. If you say no and I gotta force you into it, then you gonna be my bitch. And everybody gonna know that.”
Lamar stopped resisting and looked away from Thumper. He put Lamar’s hand on his dick, and Lamar awkwardly stroked it a few times.
Thumper said, “Come on, face me. Do this right.”
They both turned to face each other on his tiny bed. Thumper pulled Lamar by the legs closer to him, until their thighs were interlocking. He pulled Lamar’s dick outta the fly of his prison boxers.
“See? I ain’t a bad guy. This is a circlejerk, that’s all,” Thumper said. He spat on his hand and flogged Lamar’s dick until it got hard. His hands were softer than Lamar expected, though Lamar felt the calluses and thick muscles underneath his skin. He moved expertly but in a dispassionate way, like a farmer collecting semen from a stud.
Lamar was getting a rhythm on Thumper’s dick, which pulsated in his hands. It was disgusting and made him wish he could wear a glove. It was huge too, a foot long at least, thicker than any dick should be. It was slimy with precum in his grip.
Thumper shot a load with a deep groan that resonated in Lamar’s ear. Lamar hadn’t thought he was giving a good enough handjob for him to cum so quickly, but Thumper must have been horny. His wad spurted all over Lamar’s wrist and forearm. Lamar held his hand up like a mad scientist witnessing his creation, but he couldn’t reach anything except his own bedding to wipe off with.
Lamar gagged and tried to move, but Thumper told him to stay. He used both hands on Lamar’s dick, and Lamar had to admit it was the best handjob he ever had. Spasms of pleasure flew through Lamar’s body, despite his heart pounding and him holding his breath. Thumper moved in rhythm with Lamar’s body, and Lamar could almost forget what a hellhole he was trapped in.
Lamar came with a pained grunt, his load making a hot and stinking mess right in the center of Thumper’s waist. Lamar’s grunt turned into a moan as his whole body buckled, and jizz flew over Thumper’s torso.
When it was all over and Lamar’s dick was limp once more, Thumper wiped all that cum off with his hands, then wrapped his heavy arms around Lamar’s neck, smearing the cum across Lamar’s shoulders.
“There, there,” Thumper said, “That weren’t so bad, nigga, was it?”
Chapter Four
As Lamar neared the halfway mark of his sentence, a prison riot led to an extended lockdown. Normally they’d be kept inside for a day, maybe two. But not this time. They ain’t let them out for a month, except for a shower every other week — and even that was each cell at a time, no talking allowed.
Luckily Thumper had a few more blunts. He only ever brought one out when Lamar wasn’t looking. He never showed him where he hid them, nor told him how many he had left, so Lamar steady thought they was smoking the last one. Then somehow a day or two later, he’d bring out another.
They smoked sitting on the floor, as they done got accustomed to, because the cement was cooler than the bunks. Thumper swallowed the roach, as he stay doing. Then he stood up, his cock dangling afront Lamar’s face. Lamar looked away.
“Yo, I ain’t gonna tell no one ’bout this, alright?” Thumper said.
“What? You mean the blunt? It don’t matter.”
“No, not the blunt. I ain’t been able to get a bitch in here in like two weeks,” Thumper said. “So you gonna have to fill in.”
“What?”
“I won’t tell no one. Just open yo’ mouth, nigga. It’ll be like it never happened.”
“Thumper, stop-…” Lamar shut up when Thumper clasped a hand over his mouth.
“What did I tell you about sayin’ no to me?”
A part of him wanted to fight no matter what, but Lamar’s brain overruled his heart. There was no way he’d win in a fight, and even if he survived, Thumper would just have him killed later. He’d be remembered as a traitor to his fellow Bloods. Thumper leggo, and Lamar opened his mouth.
Thumper looked down at him with sympathetic eyes and shook his pitying face. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “You just showin’ respect for yo’ elder Bloods,” he said, “It used to be normal, y’know, to jerk older niggas off in jail. That’s just what you doin’.”
His cock slid into Lamar’s throat, rubbing past his tongue, which twisted in revulsion at the flavor. It tasted like pure, distilled sweat, Lamar thought, stale and rancid sweat. It pulsated like a living organism feeding off him. It rocketed right to full erection too, in a matter of seconds.
He moaned and said, “Okay, relax yo’ throat, nigga. You doin’ okay. I ain’t gonna beat yo’ ass, just keep on coop’atin’. Don’t give up nigga, and try not to gag so much. I don’t wanna feel like I’m ramroddin’ ya, y’know, you ain’t a snitch. You just showing respect like you should.”
As the precum flowed into Lamar’s mouth, Lamar cringed with his eyes. He then shut them, because Thumper’s gaze was too intense. Thumper gripped Lamar’s head and gently plowed his dick in and outta Lamar’s throat, clucking his tongue each time Lamar gagged. Lamar sensed how good it felt to Thumper. His cock throbbed and pulsated, and Lamar found his throat stretching to accommodate Thumper’s mighty meat.
“Hmm-hmm, love that dome, nigga…”
Thumper stopped talking just before his orgasm, giving Lamar enough time to fill with dread. The hot, sticky taste of precum filled Lamar’s mouth, and he wanted to scream. Both of Thumper’s hands were on Lamar’s scalp, massaging it as he worked his hips in a circle around Lamar’s face.
His cum was so thick and luxuriant it spilled out the corners of Lamar’s mouth. He was disgusted, unable to concentrate on Thumper’s words over the feeling of his contorting stomach. “Don’t spit that shit up, nigga, don’t disrespect me like that. Don’t pretend it’s the grossest thing in the world, nigga. It’s my body, show a little a respect. Swallow that shit.” He held Lamar’s head in place until finally Lamar got his revulsion under control and forced the wad of cum down his throat. Thumper looked inside Lamar’s mouth like a curious doctor and was satisfied that it was empty.
“Man, Thumper, don’t do-“
“Shut the fuck up, nigga. You done,” Thumper said, letting his dick dangle between his legs. “You did it. Now we ain’t gotta talk about it again.” He leaned forward and kissed Lamar on the cheek. “Go on and gimme some push-ups before we go to bed.”
