Three Generations of Honkies

Avery goes with a friend to an awkward family event, only to find himself enchanted by her father, brother and oldest nephew! They’re a trio of hunky studs who just might let Avery swing on their alpha honky meat… as long as the other two don’t know about it!

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Avery lay awoke most of the night. He was dreading tomorrow — it was Thanksgiving, and he planned on spending it with his friend Lenore. That would have been fine on its own. But her family would be there too, and that promised to be awkward. The prospect of meeting who-even-knows how many new people made the whole thing seem like an obligation. It seemed like no big deal when she asked last month if he wanted to come. Her family might be fun, he thought.
And now he had to spend all day with them.
Lenore had not had a relationship with her family until earlier this year, due to an acrimonious divorce that led to her brother siding with her father and Lenore siding with her mother. That was why she had practically begged Avery to come along: Lenore didn’t want to be alone. So he tried not to sulk as he trundled off to her car early in the morning on Thanksgiving. He was sleepy, and he already he was failing to come up with any smalltalk.
He remained quiet the entire way to Citrus Heights, California. Lenore was quiet too, either nervous or just listening to the jazz on the radio. He was half-asleep anyway. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, however, Avery was already starting to brighten up.
Lenore’s mother had passed away a few years ago, and her father, Woody, had reverted to his bachelor ways after his divorce. He was an ex-Army officer with a tattoo of his unit on his belly — a fact that Avery saw when Lenore opened the door and Woody stood there in his boxers, hand at his crotch, scratching his balls. His arms flexed and his pecs rippled as though scratching his nutsack through his raggedy-ass boxer shorts took all of his muscles.
That was how the Thanksgiving began: Lenore screeching, and Woody blearily-eyed glaring at his daughter as his dick flopped out through the fly of his boxers. It was meaty and thick, and it flopped like an uncooked sausage. Woody was a barrel-chested man, his fuzzy fur tinged with gray, his head bald but shaved as well — shaved haphazardly, obviously without the use of a mirror, with slightly longer patches here and there around the sides of his scalp. A mustard stain on his boxers accentuated the bulge of his cock after he casually tucked it away again.
“Dad! Ohmigod, you are humiliating me! Ohmigod! Is this what you do? You hang out in your underpants?! Was Mom the only reason you ever put on pants?”
“Mornin’, sweetcake.”
“Go put some clothes on, Dad!”
He just rolled his eyes and hugged her, much to her chagrin. He shook Avery’s hand. Woody had thick fingers and a muscular grip. He squeezed Avery confidently. He winked too.
Avery blushed, and he looked Woody’s chest up and down. He was furry and broad and strapping, and he smelled a little of sweat, like he had been working out recently, or had simply not showered. Or both. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male aroma.
“Dad, I can tell you cleaned up, but you should have done the baseboards-“
“Sweetcake,” Woody grunted. “It looks fine-“
“I know, but I’ll just get a sponge-“
Again, Woody rolled his eyes. His ass swayed in his boxers as he followed after his daughter, arguing. Avery stayed there at the door to watching his shoulder muscles flex. Again, Avery got the impression he shook his ass for Avery’s benefit. His cheeks were full to bursting out of those paper-thin boxer shorts. The mustard stain looked to have harmed the already cheap fabric, that may be why his cock slipped out.
Where do alphas even find that kind of boxer shorts? So thin you can almost see through them like wet tissue paper. Avery’s dick twitched. He wondered if Lenore had told him she was bringing a friend. He hadn’t seemed surprised to see a stranger.
The rest of the family would be coming soon, and the house was not ready. Avery chuckled under his breath at the sound of Lenore squealing at the realization that her father had still not put on any pants.
“Of course you have to baste it, Dad! Nigella Lawson said it!” She came back into the living room. Avery busied himself by putting the cords, remote controls and DVDs out by the TV all into a stack. That was productive and helpful, he thought; he only wished Lenore had seen him do it. She stormed past with a sponge and an all-purpose cleaner. “Dad! Go put pants on! You have to wear pants to Thanksgiving!”
“You’re as bad as your mother,” he said with a grin. His eyes glanced to Avery, then up the stairs. He scratched his chest casually, but his hand lingered over his nipple, and his pecs bounced.
“Did you need some help picking out an outfit, Mister Myrtle?” Avery asked. He was now certain Woody was hot to trot.
She was awfully insistent I come up here. I bet she knew her dad wanted a piece of male tail on the side. Oh she’s a sly hag… Avery stared daggers at her as he followed Woody up the stairs. He didn’t mind her bringing him as a sort of a toy to keep her father satisfied, but Avery wished she had told him. What if Woody had been fat? That would have been awkward.
“Call me Woody, hoss. Yeah, uh, what color ain’t ya supposed to wear after Labor Day?” Woody asked as they ascended the stairs.
“That’s white, darling,” Avery said. “Nobody wears white to Thanksgiving.” They were up the stairs now. He pulled down Woody’s white boxers to reveal a chunky hairy ass, all muscle and meat and fur. Woody chuckled and stepped out of his boxers without missing a beat. Avery kissed one of his cheeks there in the hall at the top of the stairs. Myrtle fussed over some dumb girlish shit downstairs.
“Damn, boy, did she bring you just to keep me from getting too ornery?”
“A hostess should provide someone to service macho military guys at family gatherings. That’s in Emily Post. Your daughter is a thoughtful girl,” Avery said. “You get jacked off by guys a lot?”
He grunted. “You a take-a-shower-before kinda fruitcake or a take-a-shower-after fruitcake?”
“After.” Avery blushed and laughed. Obviously, he thought, that was a yes: guys who weren’t jacked off by other dudes often would never have known there were those who preferred both showered and unshowered men.
“Gotcha.” He went into the bedroom and flopped onto his bed, which was covered in dirty socks and tee shirts with sweat stains. The bed was unmade, but Avery thought no one actually slept here — Woody probably slept on the couch downstairs most nights. He looked like the drift-off-to-sleep-drunk-on-the-couch kind of divorced man. He flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “Man, in boot camp there was this fellah right off base who’d jack off any soldier who needed it. They just be lining up outside his condo, twirlin’ they dicks in they hands.”
“I bet.”
“But I ain’t mess around with him. The female tail was plentiful back then. It wasn’t till I got assigned to this base in central Alaska, then there wasn’t no females around except this one swishy Indian fella with lips like silk — what are you waiting for?” He snorted and chuckled. “My daughter is gonna come in anytime, demanding I alphabetize my potatoes or something, calling my spice rack racist. So let’s get this done, we might not have much time.” He slapped Avery in the cheek with his dick as Avery leaned over the bed to put it in his mouth. He groaned and scooted closer to the edge.
The doorbell rang. Avery heard more family coming in, and Lenore talking a mile a minute, seemingly apologizing for the state of the house. He slathered Woody’s dick with spit, as it firmed up in his mouth.
“You wanna hit it deep, baby?” Avery asked when it was hard. He rubbed Woody’s cock against his cheeks and chased it with his tongue, teasing Woody by blowing on the wetness on his shaft and making Woody’s whole body shake.
“Ah, man… if a woman asked me that, swear to God, I’d propose to her on the spot,” Woody said with a sigh. He closed his eyes, gripped Avery by the ear and slammed his dick all the way down. “Ah, shit…” Woody moaned.
Normally Avery would try to slow down something like this. Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them. But that didn’t apply to Avery. So it was up to him to slow his men down or else they’d just dagger his throat like jackrabbits and be done in mere moments.
Today, however, Avery didn’t want to slow down. He sometimes enjoyed letting men really have free reign over his throat, letting them plow into him deeply and letting their balls slap against his chin. He adjusted and loosened his neck to allow every inch of Woody’s cock in there.
“Goddamn, man, hell yeah…” Woody’s throaty voice rang out in Avery’s ear. He held on tight to Avery’s head, but he didn’t sodomize his throat in an aggressive or mean way like some guys. He ground his cock deeply, shaking it, moving his hips and ass in little circles like he needed to make love to every inch of Avery’s spasming throat.
When loud gurgling and sputtering sounds came from Avery’s mouth, Woody warmly shushed him. “Sssssh, it’s okay, boy, I’m cummin’ now, just keep it open for a minute more. You gonna get a good taste in just a sec…” His voice degenerated into a baritone rumble as an orgasm rippled over his hairy chest. He held his breath, keeping Avery’s head impaled on his cock, which spasmed and pulsated in Avery’s neck. Avery’s tongue throbbed against the veiny underside of his dick, where Avery could feel the juices flowing from his balls.
Cum flowed down Avery’s throat. It was creamy and warm and delicious, and he guzzled every drop. He maintained eye contact with Woody the whole time too. Most straight guys closed their eyes when they came in a man’s mouth, so Avery enjoyed Woody’s shocked expression as he orgasmed.
“Shit, boy, goddamn! If I had you back in boot camp, I’d have never bothered hooking up wit’ females,” Woody said with a laugh, shaking his ass beneath Avery’s grasp to make the last few drops of cum slide down Avery’s gullet.
Then, when it was over, Avery sat back and grinned, wiping his face off. Woody’s jaw hung open and he licked his lips. He chuckled, a throaty laugh like a moist mummy, and he wiped his hand through his chest hair. Avery smacked his lips and played with the sensitive, limpening shaft of Woody’s cock.
“Hmmm… Thanks,” Avery said.
“I should be thankin’ you.” He had a low throaty chuckle. “Thank you.” He wiped his dick off with some paper towels. “My son and grandsons are downstairs. And daughter-in-law.” He sighed like he wished his daughter-in-law wasn’t here. “Make sure you don’t let on what we done up here. The younger generations don’t get it.”
Avery mimed zipping his lips shut, then Woody took a quick shower while Avery chose an outfit for him. His cleanest pants were camo, but Avery found a tolerable pair of khakis. They were dirt-colored anyway, so the dirt stains didn’t show. Avery heard the family greeting each other downstairs. A child was in the mix. That was good, he thought, an excellent distraction.
Sure enough, the child — Jason — Woody’s youngest grandson — occupied everyone’s attention. Avery went downstairs met Lenore’s brother Mack, his wife Vanessa and their adult sons Rowan and Shaw, along with, of course, the young one, Mack’s and Vanessa’s five year old Jason. They all watched Jason play with trucks and lose counting games on his mother’s iPad.
Soon, however, conversation became stilted. Everyone watched Jason play like he was a panda at the zoo. Avery tried to make a few jokes, but no one seemed interested in laughing. The dull as drainage Thanksgiving was only ended with a fight breaking out among the brothers.
“You shouldn’t let Jason use the iPad so much,” said Rowan, instantly starting off an argument between him and his brother Shaw. They were both late teens, Rowan just eighteen but Shaw nearly twenty. They both hovered over their nephew, who ignored them, deeply hypnotized by the iPad in his grubby little mitts.
“Just let him play, you loser-“
“It’s bad for him.”
“You’re such a pretentious twat-” Shaw smacked Rowan, who smacked him back.
As Woody came down the stairs in a button-down shirt and dirt-colored khakis, he said, “Hey, you boys knock it off-!”
“Get outta my way!”
“He’s been beggin’ for this for years, I’m gonna kick the moron right out of his brain!”
Avery wanted nothing to do with what was soon to be a fistfight. He did like the men. Woody, his son Mack and Mack’s adult sons Shaw and Rowan. He appreciated the male form, and all four of the Myrtle men had admirable physiques in their own ways. Shaw was handsome and sort of squarish, broad and ox-like, yet clean-cut and dimpled like a new golf ball. Rowan was cute in a skinny basement-dwelling nerd way, not unattractive, as he was a soccer player in good shape, you could just tell he spent most of his non-soccer time playing Minecraft or something dumb like that.
“You piece of shit! Car thief!”
“Oh, now you’re bringing up the Toyota again?! Just get over it, Rowan!”
Shaw was tall and wide-shouldered, with deep dimples and charming green eyes. He was outgoing, with the smarmy charisma of a third-rate politician. After the fight with his brother, he went into the kitchen, where Lenore ignored the fighting and focused on basting the turkey in the oven. When she stood up to explain why her father’s favorite spice blend’s brand and mascot were racist, Shaw belched.
“Oh my god, that was so disgusting, get out of here!” She scowled at her nephew, and he instantly returned to the living room, where Rowan was still fuming about the car Shaw had “stolen”. As Avery settled in with a glass of cider (sadly, it was soft cider), Rowan and Shaw resumed their earlier fight, which was itself a resumption of a previous fight. Little Jason watched and aimlessly banged his trucks together.
“Fight back, pussy!” Shaw and Rowan bumped chests.
“Lay off!” Rowan pushed him to the ground.
“C’mon, fight me! You know you can’t!”
They both wrestled, knocking over the coat-rack by the door and a lamp. Avery backed up out of the way, putting him close to Mack, who picked up Jason and put him on the stairs so he wouldn’t be trampled. Avery felt Mack’s body heat. Mack ignored him, dourly watching his sons fight. He had ceased trying to stop it.
Avery caught Mack’s eye and beckoned as though he needed help with something private. He sort of swept Mack up to nudge him to come along. Mack went with him, and the roar of the battle in the living room went quiet when they went into the garage and shut the door.
“Thanks so for much for your help,” Avery said. He had manipulated Mack with body language and confidence, so Mack realized as he walked into the garage that he didn’t know why he was here.
“What did you need help with?”
“Oh… nothing too difficult,” Avery said. He grinned. “I have a feeling you’d like to get a nut off. Is that right?”
“Shit, hoss, always!” Mack said with a cackle and a whoop.
“So how about I bend over and you plow my ass hard?”
Get off me, Shaw! I’ll kick your ass!
“Oh, damn… Oh…” Mack’s cocky demeanor vanished. He was momentarily nervous. Then he took a deep breath. “Hot damn. Uh, okay…” He paused. “You can’t tell my dad. He’d kick my ass.”
Avery rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
Mack took a deep breath. “Man… It’s no big deal, just so you know. You’re not my first.” He blushed until his cheeks were the color of cherries. “I, uh… Back in college, my frat had this scavenger hunt thing I had to do, and uh…” He chuckled and blushed. “I was just… It was on my list, and I had to do it, that’s all-“
“You don’t need to explain,” Avery said. He smiled. “Come on, let’s go. If you wanna stick it in me, you gotta stop talking.”
Pulling his own pants down, Mack sat sideways on a riding lawnmower, so he faced Avery. A big dick popped out of his underwear. Avery went for it with his mouth. He planted his lips right on it, and there was a twitch immediately as it flickered into life.
A gasp escaped from Mack’s lips, though he tried to look confident. He was also excessively concerned about noise — his sons still fought in the house, which was much too loud for anyone to hear Mack’s heavy breathing from the garage. But he jumped every time there was a noise, like when Shaw and Rowan knocked stuff over in the living room.
“Hey! That’s enough!” Woody was getting involved now, and Mack pursed his lips shut tightly because the house was suddenly silent. He threw his head back and let out a soundless moan, his open mouth hanging agape, tongue lolling out.
Soon Mack’s dick was hard, and it throbbed as it leaked precum down Avery’s throat. Avery licked the shaft, tracing the trail of the vein that ran up and down the underside of it. Mack let out a long, low-rumbling moan.
“You’re gonna stick it in me too, right?” Avery said because it looked like Mack was planning on cumming like this.
Mack chortled. He removed his baseball cap, ran his fingers through his hair, then put it back. “I dunno, hoss…”
Avery said. “That’s what you agreed to. You wanna back out?”
“No! I just… Just keep your voice down,” Mack said, even though he was the one who was loud.
Avery just kissed Mack on the cocktip, slathering spit on his shaft. “Are you ready ?” Before he gave Mack a chance to answer, Avery got down on his knees and sucked the sweat off Mack’s balls.
Mack gasped and writhed. His muscles all flexed, and he wanted to let out a shout but couldn’t because the family in the living room was being quiet now. They’d hear.
His balls were heavy and full, and Avery loved savoring them. Ballsacs always had such an intense flavor that brought tears to Avery’s eyes as he gurgled and choked on them. That was loud, but only in the immediate vicinity of the lawnmower on which Mack still sat. Mack remained paranoid though, alternating between shushing Avery and loudly gasping nervously.
“I can’t believe this is gonna be my first time putting it up the butt,” Mack said, his voice quavering as Avery pulled off his balls and stroked his dick with one hand. Avery turned around and aimed his ass for Mack’s crotch. Mack sighed. “Girls always say it’s gross. Chicks are all cockteases.”
“Yeah. You should totally stick your dick in dudes instead,” Avery said as he lowered himself onto Mack’s cock.
“You’re not really an unbiased advisor…” Mack said with a chuckle. He leaned way back, like he didn’t want to touch Avery’s body any more than necessary.
That meant it was up to Avery to do most of the actual movement here. He backed his ass up, grimacing at the intense pressure that ate up his focus. He grunted and gritted his teeth. This was especially awkward because Mack just sat there on the lawnmower, watching as Avery struggled to keep his ass in position — he had to kneel over and raise his ass as high as he could make it go.
Avery was just about to tell Mack they needed to try a different position when his ass finally loosened. A loud sigh emanated from deep in Avery’s precum-lubed throat. Mack sighed too, in shock as a surge of pleasure shot up his spine.
“Goddamn, man… Remember my dad can’t find out,” Mack said, his voice wavering like he was on the verge of tears. He whispered even though the TV was on in the living room, drowning out all other potential sounds. There was no way anyone in there could hear unless they stood with their ears literally on the garage door.
Mack’s fingers gingerly gripped Avery’s hips. Mack’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth was agape once more. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. He had hoped it might feel like a woman’s pussy, but he was shocked that it felt so much better. Mack blushed and writhed beneath Avery’s body.
He was so impassioned and aroused that he grabbed Avery’s hips, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Avery any more than absolutely necessary. He held onto Avery’s body and guided him up and down, even as his mind told him not to, that this was too weird.
Mack sighed. If his buddies ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it. And if his father found out? As Mack reached a potent orgasm, he was filled with terror that his dad would come in right now and see him — he’d tease Mack about it forever.
But Mack couldn’t help but respond as an incredible orgasm flowed through him. He’d never felt like this. He pounded on his muscular chest and threw his head back with such force that his backwards baseball cap fell off, landing on the lawnmower beneath him.
“Shit, man!” Mack shouted, finally loud enough that people in the living room could have heard it.
Cum flowed into Avery’s ass, great gobs of it that filled him up. Since he was on top, it ran out and down his leg onto the floor of the garage. Avery shot his own wad, but most of it ended up in the body of the lawnmower.
Their orgasm continued for what felt like forever. Mack had never experienced anything like this, but it was old hat for Avery. He let out a long, cringing moan, then leaned back and rubbed his face against Mack’s well-muscled chest.
“Hmmm…” Avery murmured into Mack’s muscular arms, which wrapped around him as both men finished their climaxes and cum seeped out of Avery’s ass onto the floor of the garage and the side of the lawnmower.
They both fell back, limp and exhausted. Avery stretched his weary legs. He didn’t want to leave just yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before their absences were noted. Avery pulled his pants up and kissed Mack on the neck.
“Thanks,” Mack said. Avery gave him the two hundred dollars he had promised.
“You’re welcome,” Avery said.
Avery went back out to the living room — leaving Mack to breathe heavily and recover in the garage — where he watched little Jason be cute for awhile with the other males. But they were mostly watching a football game, not the kid. Avery quickly lost interest because he hated football. The only part of football he considered exciting was the men — sometimes you could catch a glimpse of their jockstraps. But he wasn’t having much luck with that today, and the menfolk were boring, silently watching the game. The fight between Rowan and Shaw seemed to have ended. They now sat next to each other quietly, meanmugging.
So Avery went into the kitchen to see how Thanksgiving dinner was progressing.
It was, except for the turkey being undercooked and then accidentally dropped on the floor, done.
The women — Lenore and Vanessa, Mack’s wife (and therefore Lenore’s sister-in-law) — had knocked it off the table when a fight began mere seconds before Avery walked in the door. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, watching the fight and struggling to process what he saw. He’d known Lenore for a long time, and she had never been the type to get into a slapfight.
“Don’t you dare talk about my son!”
“You filthy bitch, you turned my brother into a douche, and you’re trying to raise my nephews to be just as bad!”
“You’re not even a mother, you don’t get to criticize how I raise my son!”
They both tried to hit each other. A loud smacking sound rang out, but Avery couldn’t tell who had made a good hit and who hadn’t. Both women erupted in shouting and insults. Avery was still too shocked to respond right away.
Finally, Avery grabbed Vanessa and pulled her off Lenore just as the kitchen filled with the rest of the menfolk. They were all dumbfounded by the eruption of anger, and even Jason stayed silent and still, hugging his father’s leg.
“You elitist whore!” Lenore screamed. “Just because you’re so vain and self-obsessed as to spend nine hundred dollars on shoes, doesn’t mean I have to!”
“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t steal my shoes from the funerals of obese spinsters,” Vanessa said with a haughty glance at Lenore’s clunky brown shoes.
“You sticky-cunted bitch!”
“I’ll rip your goddamn eyes out!”
Mack stepped forward to intervene. He left his son behind to stand between the two. He put his hands up and said something that Avery couldn’t hear because of the loud shouting of the women.
Avery thought he was being the only responsible one in the room by grabbing little Jason by the hand and taking him out. Woody had the same idea at the same time though, and he scooped Jason up in his arms.
“Grandpa! What are they saying?”
“Nevermind them, they ain’t actin’ like adults,” Woody said. He and Avery went with Jason out to the backyard. Once the door was closed and they couldn’t hear the fight anymore, Avery felt a lot better. He was just about ready for this Thanksgiving to be over.
“No one fights like family,” Avery said, a little awkwardly — he didn’t know what else to say. Jason stood among a bucket of toy cars he had brought to the house. He was outside, and he seemed to realize he was supposed to play with those toys. But he didn’t know how or was too stressed by the fight to do so. Avery cleared his throat as he sat down with Jason and his toys, getting him started. “The turkey is not edible.”
“Yeah… I’ll do something about it.” Woody said. He called in an order for pizza, and then poked his head back inside. “”Hey y’all, hey! Hey! Shut the fuck up for a second! Hey! I ordered a pizza since you dicks have ruined everything. Y’all better pay, and you better give a good tip cuz it’s a holiday.” He slammed the door shut before anyone could respond. He looked at Avery. “It has been a hell of a day.”
“Gotta love your family…” Avery with a wry grin. Now that the fight was over and Avery had played with Jason’s toy cars, Jason had lost his inhibitions — he showed Avery how he was “doing it wrong”, then started playing on his own. Soon the fight faded to a dull roar, and Jason seemed to have forgotten about it.
He thought he was alone, but at some point, Shaw came into the living room.
“Look…” Shaw leaned in and whispered in Avery’s ear. “I need some booty, man… I’ll… give you a reacharound if you let me take you in the garage and plow into you until your asshole falls off.”
Avery sighed and squirmed as Shaw’s hand roamed over his back lightly. Then they both hurried — without walking quickly because people in the house could have been looking — to the garage. Once they got in without being seen, Shaw groaned.
“I knew I ain’t wanna have no Thanksgiving, what a pain! And we won’t even get to eat none of that turkey,” Shaw said as he dropped his pants. He scoffed. “Only pizza place open today is shitty as hell. Vonelli’s, man, fuckin’ awful.” He flopped his limp dick between his legs. “C’mon, hurry up. I’ve been waitin’ for food all day, and I am not missing that pizza.”
It all only took a minute or two for Avery to have his pants around his ankles and for Shaw to jam his still-limp dick into Avery’s ass. He stiffened up, rubbing his cock between his asscheeks. It all happened so quickly that Avery still wasn’t quite ready. His knees remained sore from getting plowed — right here in this garage, on the lawnmower against which Shaw leaned now — earlier, and this was all happening so fast.
“Damn, you’re… in a hurry,” Avery said with a chuckle. Then he bit his lip. Shaw’s cock slammed into him, and he grunted loudly. Avery squirmed and gasped. “Shit!”
“Shush…” Shaw snorted and sighed moistly, the sound resonating in Avery’s ears as he worked himself back on Shaw’s dick. Shaw’s hands roamed over his torso and shoulders, holding Avery in place. He drilled his dick in bit by bit.
“Shit, don’t let my dad or grandpa know about this,” Shaw said. He inhaled deeply of the scent of Avery’s face. “And especially not this.” He gripped Avery’s dick.
Avery was so shocked he couldn’t respond as pangs of pleasure shot through him — he would have never thought someone like Shaw would give him a reacharound. He was pinned between Shaw and the wall, which he clawed at and gasped into.
His hand fumbled with Avery’s cock crudely. It was obvious he had little experience with this. In Shaw’s fraternity, there had been a “rule” that was oft-mentioned: you can cornhole your assigned pledge, but you have to give him a reacharound. Having been on both sides of that equation, Shaw had few inhibitions about it now. Jacking Avery off didn’t even feel any different than jacking himself off, except that he got to plow into Avery’s tight ass at the same time.
An orgasm hit Avery first. He writhed beneath Shaw’s arms and cried out. The most exquisite bliss flowed through his veins as cum flowed into his ass and Shaw sighed into his ear.
“Shit, goddamn,” Shaw said with a sigh. “Thanks, man, I needed that.” The last few drops of cum filled up Avery’s ass.
“Yeah, me too,” Avery said. Shaw kept going, moaning right into Avery’s ear, which he nibbled on too as he gyrated his hips. That turned his cumload into a big frothy mess that dripped down Avery’s legs.
“Hey Grandpa! Pizza’s here! Where’s your wallet?”
“Shaw, c’mon! Pizza!”
“Where’s Avery?”
Shaw moaned, his voice breaking. He swore and slapped Avery’s asscheek as he pulled out. His last few jets of jizz spurted over Avery’s back. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said.
“Shaw!”
“I’m coming!” he shouted, then he laughed. He spoke more quietly. “Or rather… I just came.”
Avery sighed and sat on the cold cement floor of the garage. “You go ahead. I gotta recover. Thanks for lettin’ me come to your house for Thanksgiving,” he said with a bashful smile. He wiped his ass clean with a rag from the garage. “Your family has been gracious hosts.”

The Truck Stop

Charlie is a football player on the road with his college team when he stumbles across a notorious cruising spot, where his coach shows him the ropes… Coach Thickman introduces Charlie to an exciting world of man-on-man truck stop action!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Charlie Smitkowski nervously got out of the van and stretched in the truck stop parking lot. His teammates all seemed so confident, but he didn’t know how they could be. He certainly didn’t feel confident here. He never did.
For one thing, he was nervous he would get hard in the shower. Thinking about it did give him a stiffy, or at least it made his dick twitch like it might get stiff. Maybe that wasn’t a reasonable fear — he had never gotten hard in the group shower back in the GHU athletic building. But he would be nervous here, naked among strangers instead of his teammates.
The GHU football team scattered towards the showerhouse. Charlie gulped. He was glad to be out of the van, which stank of his teammates’s sweat. They had spent the last three hours in the van.
There were only two universities in Wyoming with football fields, so Charlie and his teammates made this day and a half voyage by van often, every time they played the other team. They always stayed in a hotel halfway there, but that hotel — the only option for many miles around — had little to no hot water. They claimed they did, but the showers either didn’t work, didn’t spray hot water or sprayed only brown, muddy water.
So no one ever showered there at the motel. They stopped at the Ramwide Truck Stop to shower instead.
But it wasn’t just his team. Old men showered there, rednecks, black men, bikers, old men, Latinos with tattoos and bullet wounds — it was scary. This was a rural area, but one that was right off a highway with a lot of truck traffic. The truck stop was busy even out here in the middle of nowhere.
But Charlie felt compelled not to let on that he was scared. He didn’t want to be the only one on the team who felt that way. He’d look like the biggest pussy in the world. None of the other players seemed nervous about it. They were all nonchalant, like they showered with dozens of naked strangers every day.
So he hung back. He tried to steel his nerves. He went into the showerhouse after his teammates, thinking he’d feel more comfortable that way.
A fat cock sat stared at him. Charlie backed out in a panic. There was a man changing in there, a naked white man with a shaved head and a vaguely nazi look, his huge white dick dangling just a few feet from the door. He made a kissy face at Charlie, who turned tail as he heard the man laugh.
Not wanting to look frightened, Charlie went to the vending machines. He made it look like he simply decided to drink a bottle of iced tea before going in the showerhouse.
He wondered if he could get away with not showering. It’s not like anyone was watching to make sure. He didn’t think he stank, and he hadn’t been sweating very much. He could shower in Cheyenne anyway — he never really got why they bothered showering here in the truck stop, when they’d all go straight to the visitors’s locker room in Cheyenne as soon as they got there. It was just instinct and habit, he guessed, that made his teammates shower in the morning. Nobody wanted to be the stinkbutt who didn’t shower, and nobody wanted to look like a squeamish punk unwilling to get naked in front of other men.
He hurried around the back of the showerhouse, hoping to relax out of view for a moment. The woods behind the truck stop were dense with foliage, so Charlie couldn’t see more than a few feet away. There was a patch of no-man’s-land between the showerhouse and the highway, which was where Charlie headed.
A path was there, blocked by shrubbery so it wasn’t visible until Charlie was in that patch of scrubby forest. It wasn’t a marked path, just a beaten route in the dirt. Charlie took a few steps down it, curious why there was a trail out here.
“Hmmm-hmm…” That was Coach Thickman’s voice.
Charlie gulped. He crept closer. When he got around a tree, he saw Coach Thickman — a hefty, broad-chested black man with a scruffy beard and a shaved head — with his pants around his ankles. He held onto the scalp of a thin white man as he rammed his dick into the man’s throat.
Charlie gasped. He wanted to run away, he felt an instinctual need to leave.
But he also couldn’t quite bear to stop watching. He wanted to see what happened. His eyes opened wide. He had never seen anything like this.
Coach Thickman looked confident — he always did, he was swaggerous, dominant, tough. He had a powerful body, thick as anything, with a hairy chest for a black man. He taught “industrial arts” and coached the basketball team. He often came out on football team trips too, which he said was because he wanted to support them but probably was because he could use the overtime. He had a cocky strut that Charlie had always found exciting, exhilirating, even arousing.
That was how Charlie wished he could carry himself. Coach Thickman’s heavy balls slapped against the man’s chin as he humped his cock down the man’s throat. Thickman let out a little bristly moan too, and he murmured some soft nothings as he pounded away.
The white man swallowing Coach’s cock was Avery, the team manager and a junior at the college. He came here frequently to cruise, so it was a happy coincidence that the team would be here too.
They were mostly truckers, Southern men with huge cocks and musky bodies. Avery would lick them clean like a cat if they let him. Coach Thickman’s foot-long cock throbbed veinily in Avery’s mouth. The sour-salty flavor of precum coated his tongue and throat, as he swallowed every inch of that massive shaft.
“Hmmm… Come on, open up,” Coach Thickman murmured. He used both hands to keep Avery’s head in place. He didn’t pound into Avery’s throat violently. He focused on grinding his dick deeply in Avery’s gullet, continuing even when he felt resistance and gagging. Thickman knew well how to throat a man down, and Avery was an expert in accepting massive alpha male cocks.
Intense pleasure rocketed through his body. A part of Coach Thickman thought he was being watched, but he ignored that feeling — he didn’t mind, for one thing, he liked putting on a little show. He wondered if any of the football players were watching, he hoped so.
“Swallow that shit, boy…” Coach Thickman said with a grunt.
He sprayed his wad deeply into Avery’s body, coating his belly and filling it with his creamy seed. It was hot and thick, and it seeped into Avery’s flesh from his stomach. Spasms of pleasure rocketed up Thickman’s body, and his muscles all rippled at once. A throaty groan came out of him.
His muscles were so powerful, so thick, so firm — or so they looked. Charlie had to fight the urge to show himself and grope Coach Thickman. Sweat clung to the curves of his biceps, and it glistened off his skin in the dim light. Charlie murmured to himself and licked his lips, his hand in his pants playing with his own throbbing erection.
“Hmm-hmm, take it, swallow it, damn…”
Thickman’s fat cock kept going, pulsating in Avery’s throat. Avery choked up a big wad of white precum that dripped down his chin and landed on the forest floor. Avery gurgled merrily, slurping on Coach Thickman’s limpening dick and taking in every drop he could.
Finally he was done. “Damn, boy…” Coach Thickman took his dick out and tucked it away in his track pants. His last few drops of jizz were soaked up by the fabric of his pants, which made a small wet spot in his crotch. Thickman either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”We got another away game in two weekends. You gonna drive the van for us?”
“Maybe,” Avery said with a smile, his hands moving up Thickman’s body under his shirt, to grope up his muscles. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”
They kept talking, but Charlie darted away. He didn’t want to get caught watching. That would be embarrassing, especially since he realized only just now that he had been jacking off. He had shot his own wad onto the ground. It felt so good and so natural he didn’t notice until he was orgasming, and now his dick was so sensitive it hurt.
Did they know he had done that? Would anyone be able to tell? Charlie was in a panic as he fled back to the bus.
Luckily, everyone just assumed Charlie had taken a shower, and no one asked. He snuck a sniff of his pits, which didn’t smell too strongly of sweat. Charlie assumed he hadn’t been seen because no one ever mentioned it.
But Avery had seen. He knew better than to acknowledge it though, because he thought he could still land a taste of Charlie’s meat if he waited for the right moment. Charlie Smitkowski was one of the athletes at GHU Avery most craved.
Avery hung out behind the truck stop waiting for that van of football jocks to return. He got a few truckers in the two weeks he waited, but no one as handsome as Coach Thickman. That was expected. They couldn’t all be winners.
Still, he waited. This would pay off soon, he was sure, and he had little else to do as his classes were almost done for the semester. He was just studying for the finals at this point.
He heard the van pull up while Avery finished a bottle of water at a picnic table near the showerhouse. It had been a slow day, unseasonably hot and humid as could be. He went to the air conditioner, where he could stand and peer into a window into the shower and the whirr of the compressor meant Avery didn’t have to worry about making noise. That position gave him a good look into the shower, and he could see out front if Coach Thickman was heading back here.
A muscular blond jock was flopping his dick between his fingers as he soaped himself up. Avery watched the shower water run over his plump ass as he shook his cock — he seemed to be making a point about how big or high-quality his cock was, or maybe he was just trying to get attention. But out of the corner of his eye, Avery saw that Charlie Smitkowski meander casually behind the showerhouse. He went around the other side of the building, so he didn’t see Avery at the air conditioner.
As soon as he saw Charlie, Avery hurried away from the air conditioner and darted behind a tree. He pretended to be waiting there when Charlie nervously approached.
“Hey,” Avery said.
“Hi.” Charlie was tense, lips pursed together. He didn’t know what brought him here, except that he thought that Avery would probably be here again, and he had made sure to beat Coach Thickman here. Charlie figured that he’d have some privacy if he was first.
Avery didn’t say anything else. He just dropped to his knees and pulled Charlie’s dick out through the fly of his jeans.
His dick disappeared into the man’s mouth, and Charlie let out a nervous whimper. Pleasure shot up his spine. It felt good, better than anything he had ever done. He wondered if this man was that good, or if he had simply never been with a good woman.
His dick rocketed to full erection. Charlie moaned and licked his lips. He could feel an orgasm already rising up within him, and he was worried he’d cum quickly and look like a loser.
“Howdy, son,” Coach Thickman’s baritone voice boomed and echoed in Charlie’s mind.
Charlie winced and turned around just in time to get a face full of Coach Thickman’s bare chest. He was in his boxers and shower sandals, his hefty chest shaking as he came closer. His dick was already poking out through the fly of his shorts.
“Oh, uh! Hi! Coach Thickman! Hi! I-“
“Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a low, throaty murmur. He stood next to Charlie, so close their asscheeks pressed against each other. Charlie felt small and weak. Coach Thickman’s heavy arm draped over Charlie’s shoulders, and his armpit hair rubbed against Charlie’s bicep.
That was enough to keep Charlie from cumming too quickly. He was too nervous to do anything more than try not to smell Coach Thickman’s armpit — which didn’t smell bad, since he had just showered moments ago, it smelled like deodorant, but it was intense and warm and Charlie felt like less of a man every time he caught a whiff.
Their dicks touched. Charlie gulped. He looked around as though considering fleeing — the thought did cross his mind, but he wouldn’t want to blue-ball himself like that. He could do this. It was so exciting his heart raced, he felt like he’d never really been alive before this moment.
His pale tan cock smushed up against Coach Thickman’s. Charlie was glad to see that they were the same size — he would have felt inadequate if his dick was small. Avery could tease both cocktips at once, slurping down the precum that flowed from both piss-slits.
He tongued both shafts and licked all four balls in turn. Avery enjoyed dragging this out because he liked the sight of both men feeling each other up. It was Coach Thickman mainly, whose arms flexed as he moved, thick muscles caressing Charlie’s smoother chest.
But Charlie couldn’t quite stay still either. He jumped back and forth on his feet. Every time a shiver of pleasure shot through him he blushed and quivered a little more.
Charlie saw Coach Thickman’s mouth coming and could have moved his head away. It was obvious they were about to kiss.
A part of him wanted to be kissed. For just a moment, he allowed himself to feel desire for the mature football coach with the grizzled beard. Charlie gulped.
“Ah-!” Charlie’s gasp of surprise was cut off by Coach Thickman kissing him on the lips. Their tongues collided in Charlie’s mouth, while Charlie lost himself in his coach’s arms.
He didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like forever. Coach Thickman noisily kissed him, slobbering over his lips and cheeks and neck. He even left a hickey that Charlie would later have to claim was from a girl last night (luckily, the others all believed him).
They were still kissing as they both orgasmed at once. Avery slurped on both cocks the best he could, slathering both dicktips with his spit. He used one hand on each shaft too. He loved being double-teamed in the mouth, especially by men whose dicks instinctively fought with each other for space in his mouth.
Creamy cum coated his tongue and ran down his throat. It was salty and warm, with two distinct flavors — one bright and sunny, the other fragrant and spiced — Avery couldn’t decide which one came from which. He guzzled down every drop, continuing to lick both piss-slits even as both men’s muscles twitched.
“Goddamn!” Charlie sounded like he might cry, he was so impassioned and stressed. He wiggled in Coach Thickman’s arms.
“Shit yeah,” Coach Thickman said. He finally let go and stepped away. He took a deep breath, laughed and smacked Charlie’s asscheek. “Good job, son.”
“Uh, thanks.” Charlie’s face was red, and he took a deep breath. He tried to look nonchalant.
“You boys have a good game,” Avery said. He stood up and stretched his legs. “But you better move on. I want to get going before too late.”
Charlie was glad to go. He was glad for the unspoken rules of man-on-man action — Coach Thickman didn’t need to tell him that this was a don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of scenario. Coach Thickman would never mention it, and Charlie would try hard not to think about it.
It was hard not to think about it though, over the next few weeks as Charlie prepared for the state championship that would bring him back to that same truck-stop once more.
That had felt so good he could scream, and he needed to feel that way again. He even considered driving down there once in the middle of the night — if he hadn’t needed to borrow a car, he probably would have done it.
Of course, Avery probably wouldn’t be there at three o’clock in the morning anyway, Charlie told himself. Charlie had never told anyone what happened. He and Coach Thickman looked at each other and shared wry, awkward grins, but Charlie didn’t think there was any way that anyone else would find out.
He went to the truck stop one more time. Charlie told himself that this would be it — the last time the team went came to this truck stop this year. Hopefully next year he wouldn’t be doing anything like this. Maybe he’d even have a girlfriend by then.
He hung back while the rest of the team hurried into the shower, while Charlie snuck around back. He arrived in the woods behind the truck stop shower, where he turned around a tree and ran into Coach Thickman.
“Charlie, my boy.” Coach Thickman crossed his arms over his big black chest. He was hairy, with an amateur bodybuilder’s body, which made Charlie nervous — last time, Coach Thickman’s body hadn’t been as hairy because he’d shaved his chest recently. But now Charlie felt even weaker and younger than ever. Thickman glared at him and placed one heavy hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
“Coach Thickman! I was just back here, uh, to… to see, y’know, what-“
“Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “I know exactly why you was back here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then, in one smooth motion, Coach Thickman lowered his head and planted his lips right on Charlie’s. At first, Charlie had an urge to push away and make him stop, the same urge he’d had before when they got their dicks wet at the same time.
But then Charlie realized he wanted it. He wasn’t scared — a little nervous, but not scared — and he wanted this to happen more than anything. He didn’t mind that Avery wasn’t here.
He wanted to taste Coach Thickman.
Coach’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s body, holding him close as they kissed. Coach Thickman stroked his smooth back and shoulders, making Charlie quiver in excitement.
“What.. was that?,” Charlie said, his voice wavery and plaintive.
“Hush. That ain’t the issue at hand, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “We gotta get down to business, and that business is makin’ love. We gonna brew up a big pot of lust, boy. Ya feel me?”
“Yes, Coach.” Charlie shook as he sunk to his knees. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. He opened his mouth and it filled immediately with Coach’s throbbing black cock. It was thick and veiny, and it tasted both bad and good at once — it was musty and fresh, sweet and sour, salty and watery, creamy and thick, all at once, and it made Charlie want to taste even more of it.
He opened his mouth wide, letting Coach Thickman drill his dick down his throat. Charlie stroked himself off as he took it. His throat gradually loosened until finally he felt that entire massive rod invading his throat with each thrust of Coach’s hips.
It felt so right. Charlie was right where he wanted to be, and his anxiety vanished; he was no longer worried about being caught, or about being teased, or about Coach Thickman thinking him less of a man. All Charlie wanted to do was swallow down every inch of his mean and every drop of his cumload.
“Alright, if you ready, bend over, boy,” Coach Thickman said, murmuring softly. He pulled his dick out and gently guided Charlie into position.
At first, Charlie didn’t know if he wanted to do this. He hadn’t really thought about taking it in the ass. Was this how people normally did that the first time? He didn’t know. He wanted to come up with reasons not to do it, but his mind couldn’t come up with any.
The only downside, he thought, was that it would hurt the first time, or so he assumed. When he felt his ass stretch, however, the pain was not bad at all. Coach Thickman’s cock was lubed up with spit (and a little actual lube that Coach Thickman had brought for precisely this sort of occurrence).
“Oh god!” Charlie gritted his teeth. There was potent pressure, like he needed to shit but couldn’t. That sensation only gradually loosened as he felt more and more dickmeat cram into his tight hole.
He wasn’t sure he could keep doing this. The feelings were so powerful he couldn’t even speak. All he could do was wrench his head and let out a meek, wordless howl that made Coach Thickman chuckle. His dick twitched in Charlie’s ass.
“I’m all the way in ya now, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a grunt. He smacked Charlie’s cheek, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. “We’s makin’ love.”
“Oooooh….” Charlie’s voice broke. He tried to stroke himself off, but he couldn’t focus enough. His asshole and prostate commanded all of his attention.
He didn’t need to jack himself off though. As Coach Thickman slammed into him, his hands roamed over Charlie’s body and soon reached around to his cock.
With Charlie on all fours, Coach Thickman gave him a reacharound. He slammed his dick in with all the power he could muster — that was why Thickman cornholed men so much, they didn’t complain when you rammed it in, not like women did — until his balls made a pleasing thwack sound every time they slapped against Charlie’s body.
“Alright, boy, we gonna blow our nut in a minute,” Coach Thickman said, showering Charlie’s tense face and neck with kisses. His deep gravelly voice resonated in Charlie’s ear. “Ya hear me? You might feel all kinda bad feelin’s afterwards. You might start thinkin’ you you less of a man. Don’t think none of those things. What we doin’ here ain’t no thing, ain’t nothin’ you gotta ever think about again.”
“Yes, Coach,” Charlie’s voice was tense and pinched. He moaned as his cock throbbed an orgasm erupted inside him.
“This is just lust. We just actin’ on feelings, and we ain’t gotta think ’bout that lust again, not till those feelings appear once more. Ya feel me?”
“Yes, Coach.”
Cum sprayed into Charlie’s ass, great big gobs of it that coated his insides and seeped through his belly. Charlie was so focused on that pleasure deep within him that he barely noticed his own orgasm or the jets of cum he shot onto the ground and Coach Thickman’s wrist.
They kept going. Charlie was nearly totally limp, unable to process the potent pleasure wracking his body, but Coach Thickman didn’t slow down at all. He kept slamming his cock in and out of Charlie’s ass, making a big frothy mess of cum that formed a puddle on the ground.
At last he was done. Charlie’s mind reeled as he collapsed and Coach Thickman pulled out.
“Ah, shit, shit,” Charlie said with a grunt. He tried to stand but his knees were weak. Coach Thickman helped him up.
“You alright, boy?”
“Fine.” Charlie blushed. “Good. Cool. Fine.”
“Shush. C’mon, boy, we gotta go take a shower. Remember, ain’t nothin’ happened. If anyone asks, we came back here to share a cigarette we ain’t want the others to see us smoke,” Coach Thickman said. “You ready?”
“Yeah. I’m ready,” Charlie said. “Next time we have an away game-“
“Hush, boy. We’ll worry about that the next time I see you back here.”

Thug Punishment

Avery is a personal trainer for the legendary ex-con Thumper White, when Thumper sets up for him an outrageous alpha male punishment scenario like Avery’s been dreaming of!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery thought his new client was going to be a pain in the ass. He was a rough-looking middle-aged black man, a former pro boxer supposedly. He had argued with and fired two personal trainers already. Rumor had it that he had spent the last thirty years in prison.
He introduced himself as Thumper, and he had a big smile on his round face. He was covered in crude tattoos and muscles, with a thick layer of padding. His tats were faded, maybe prison tats. Avery felt small and weak in front of him, and his knees buckled under Thumper’s withering gaze. He had a simmering intensity that made Avery both uncomfortable and warm, a-thrum with desire. Thumper’s broad chest muscles rippled, already dappled with sweat because he had been on the treadmill before Avery arrived.
“You still like what you see?” His pecs bounced.
“Oh, you… uh, yeah, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. We can work on your abs-“
“Nah,” Thumper said.
A long, terse silence filled the air. Avery thought Thumper was going to say something else, but he didn’t. Thumper pointedly waited. He sniffed, then grabbed at his crotch to scratch his balls. His thick cock was briefly outlined by his shorts, and Avery felt his knees grow weak. A burst of unwashed convict musk hit Avery’s nostrils.
Thumper grinned. “Spot me, man.” He got down on the bench press machine.
Avery began counting along with Thumper’s lifts. One. Two. Three. Normally as he counted, Avery would give some helpful advice, tips or encouragement, but Thumper’s shorts still outlined his cock and Avery couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was so big, like a kielbasa, and his shorts were so thin Avery could see the veins of his cockshaft through the fabric.
When he finished the first set, Avery nervously said, “So you don’t want to work on your abs?” Truthfully he just wanted to get between Thumper’s legs to hold his feet down, but most men were ab-focused, so Avery thought Thumper might want to work on that.
Thumper shook his head. “I’m too old to worry about that. Ain’t gonna get six-pack abs anyway. So it don’t matter,” he said. “You got a quiet back room or something?”
“Uh… not really. I mean the locker room is pretty quiet-” Avery stopped himself because he realized Thumper wanted a private spot. Thumper licked his lips and Avery’s knees went weak. Avery blushed. “I mean… There’s a sauna. No one’s probably in there this early in the morning. We could lock it-“
“There ya go,” Thumper said. He gestured towards the back of the gym. “Lead the way, man. As you go that way, practice making a face like this.” He demonstrated an open-mouth face, complete with his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek to simulate a cock.
Avery walked into the steamy sauna, glad to see that no one was in there. He quickly locked the door behind Thumper. “This won’t really give us a lot of privacy. The door’s not supposed to be locked, it’s not safe. If someone on staff sees it-“
“Hush up, boi,” Thumper said. He got real close to Avery, so his broad chest touched Avery’s lean torso. The body heat emanating from Thumper wrapped Avery up, and he backed himself up so his shoulders rubbed against the firmness of Thumper’s body.
“Uh-“
“Say yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You my trainer, right? You work for me? You call me sir.” Thumper’s voice was a low throaty growl that made Avery’s heart flutter.
“Yes, sir.”
“You wanna jerk me off, boi?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get on yo’ knees and do it.”
Avery sunk to his knees. A part of him was still worried he’s get in trouble, but not a big part of him. He desperately wanted Thumper’s cock.
He reached up to pull down Thumper’s shorts, which were soaked with sweat and moisture from the humid air here in the sauna. But Thumper swatted his hand away.
“Nah, boi. Use yo’ teeth,” Thumper said. He smiled cruelly down at Avery, who shuddered.
Avery gripped Thumper’s shorts with his teeth and pulled them down. It was difficult to get enough leverage to do so, but when he did, and he saw Thumper’s stiff cock jump out at him, Avery was more aroused than he had ever been.
He swallowed the tip of Thumper’s dick. He tried to jack him off at the same time, since Thumper’s dick was much too big for Avery to deep-throat him, but Thumper again swatted his hand away. The taste was warm and musty, salty from sweat or maybe precum or maybe that was the unadulterated taste of manhood. Thumper guzzled it down.
“No hands, Avery,” Thumper said. That was the first time Thumper had said his name, and the way he muttered it like he had never said the word before made Avery shudder with anticipation. Thumper spat, his saliva landing right on the base of his dick. “You can go deep, right?”
Avery nodded without taking the cock out of his throat. Precum filled his mouth. Thumper groaned and began bucking his hips, pushing his dick gently down Avery’s throat. It wasn’t violent, it was more of a gentle grinding motion, like Thumper was making love to Avery’s throat.
Thumper said softly, “I been locked up a lot. I got experience turning every hole I see into a pussy. That’s what yo’ throat is to me. A pussy. My pussy. Make some noise, boi.”
Avery tried to hum, but that triggered him to gag. He fought against it, but then Thumper gripped his head and pulled him off his cock. Thumper leaned down, his face suddenly angry and accusatory. Gobs of spit connected Avery’s mouth to Thumper’s shaft, which throbbed, dripping precum onto the floor. His dick was veiny and thick, and it jabbed around on Avery’s face.
Though Thumper’s words hung in the air, Avery was more focused on that cock. It was so big, so thick, so warm and pulsating. Avery chased it with his mouth, but Thumper didn’t let him catch up with it. Instead, he smeared his dicktip over Avery’s face.
“I say to make noise, Avery. Make it loud. You fightin’ against yo’self. Huh? Why you bein’ disobedient?”
“I’m uh, sorry,” Avery said, breathless. Then he added, “Sir.”
“Good. You should be sorry,” Thumper said. He pushed his cock back down Avery’s throat. Avery sputtered loudly, spitting up a torrent of spit that ran down Thumper’s shaft. Thumper smiled.
“Good. Good job, Avery,” he said. “You are doing a very good job right now. I’m gonna give you somethin’ nice, somethin’ I’m sure you are gonna like. Whatchoo think? You want that?”
Avery pulled off, tears welling up in his eyes from excitement and lack of oxygen. “What is it?!”
“Nah. You agree first,” Thumper said.
“I agree!” Avery said without a second thought.
Thumper chuckled. He dragged Avery to his feet and told him to bend over. “Grab yo’ ankles.” When Avery didn’t immediately follow orders, Thumper bent him over. Avery’s ass aimed high, and Thumper spread his cheeks.
This was a position that Avery had never used. It was difficult to keep his balance like this, with his ass in the air and his entire body down near the ground. He held tightly onto his ankles as Thumper pushed his dick in to Avery’s ass. Intense pressure erupted, but also pleasure coursed through his veins. Thumper’s cock awakened every one of Avery’s nerves.
“Take it, bitch! Don’t fight me, don’t try and get away, you stay right there and swallow my dick up wit’ yo’ ass, bitch.”
The awkward position somehow made this even more arousing for him. Avery had to continue concentrating on remaining upright, and he probably would have fallen except that Thumper kept a tight grip on his ass and hips, forcing Avery to remain in position. That meant Avery was at his mercy, as Thumper plowed hard at his ass again and again.
Then one of Thumper’s hands crept around to Avery’s crotch. There wasn’t much space there since Avery was doubled over, but Thumper managed to grip his dick anyway.
“Yeah, whiteboi, take it!”
Avery was shocked. Not many men were willing to give a reacharound. As Thumper’s cock pounded in and out of his ass, Avery writhed, struggling to let Thumper stroke his dick while remaining in the position Thumper demanded.
“Grab yo’ ankles!” Thumper barked every time Avery was unable to stop himself from letting go. Avery gulped and followed orders. He kept stumbling, as Thumper relentlessly slammed his dick in and out of Avery’s ass. He kept barking orders too. “Make some more sounds, whiteboi. But don’t quit holdin’ onto yo’ ankles, you just hold on tight and keep them knees where I put ’em.”
He was so intensely aroused that Avery barely noticed his own impending orgasm until it happened. Then his whole body bucked and he let go of his ankles, while cum flew down from his cock, sprinkling over Thumper’s fingers and Avery’s body.
“Oh, you gettin’ outta position, huh?” Thumper said. He grabbed Avery by the hair and lifted his upper body, so Avery’s back pressed against Thumper’s chest and his face was right next to Thumper’s. Thumper licked his cheeks as he rubbed the cum from his fingers onto Avery’s face. Thumper didn’t even seem to mind that Avery’s cum coated his face, and soon both men’s features were covered in a bright sheen of cum. It was more apparent on Thumper’s face because of his dark brown skin.
“Don’t you dare kiss me, boi,” Thumper said. Despite his words, moments after that, he did kiss Avery, right on the lips. His tongue plunged into Avery’s mouth.
Avery was shocked again, but he was also distracted as the slick, slippery muscles of Thumper’s body all tensed. He groaned directly into Avery’s mouth, and Avery felt the sound rumbling through his powerful chest.
Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, a huge, thick load that spread to every corner of his insides. Avery moaned loudly, dimly aware that he heard someone trying the door and finding it locked. Cum dripped down his thighs.
Avery didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like it may well have been forever. He grunted as his muscles went limp and Thumper pulled out of his ass. Avery nearly collapsed all the way to the floor.
When he opened his eyes, Avery’s blood ran cold. Standing above him, with his arms across his chest, was Jerry Whittock, the general manager for the Cornerside Gym. He was the only management employee whom Avery had no chance of convincing to look the other way.
“Avery,” Jerry said. “Put your clothes on and meet me in my office.” His eyes flickered to Thumper, who smiled, seemingly oblivious. Fluids coated his entire body, a mixture of sweat and cum and spit and more. He flexed his muscles. Jerry ignored him, turned around and left.
“Hey, sorry, man,” Thumper said.
But Avery just blushed, nodded and walked out. Oh well, he thought, that was totally worth it.
He continued to think it was worth it all day. Jerry was furious, of course. He said Avery was being unsanitary, that it was a bad image for the Cornerside Gym, that women would never want to join if they thought that was the kind of thing they might walk in on. Avery didn’t point out that him and Thumper were in the men’s sauna. No women would be in there anyway.
Regardless, Jerry didn’t do anything. He gave Avery a written warning, which is statistically indistinguishable from doing nothing. He didn’t even send Avery home, because Avery closed this evening and Jerry didn’t want to have to stay late enough to do it himself.
There was no point in being mad at Thumper for getting him in trouble, but Avery was still irked by that. So when Thumper knocked on the Cornerside Gym front door a few minutes after close one night, Avery wasn’t about to let Thumper in now. He shook his head at Thumper through the glass door.
That was when he saw that Thumper wasn’t alone. There was a half-dozen additional black thugs behind him, each looking angry. Thumper himself had a cruel grin and a determined look on his face. Thumper pulled out his phone, and moments later, Avery’s own cell phone rang.
Did I ever give Thumper my phone number? I don’t think so…
He heard catcalls and threats from the other men with Thumper, their voices barely audible through the door but clearly audible through the phone. They were laughing at him through the doorway, calling him a snitch and a “little bitch”. Avery’s heart started pounding as he wondered whether he should call the police.
“Yo,” Thumper said. He sounded confident and stern, but not menacing. “Avery. I know you got in trouble for what happened. So I was gonna make it up to you, man. I was gonna do somethin’ real nice for you.” He paused and held his hand up so his buddies would fall silent. “But instead you had to be a little snitch… Now don’t worry, since it’s yo’ first-time, this is only a warning. We’s gonna come in there, and we gonna ramrod you in every hole you got, homeboy. That’ll be yo’ warning. If it happens again, well… This’ll happen again, but in prison, and for the rest of your life. Now let us in, homeboy.”
His tone made it obvious what was happening. Avery was excited — Thumper had set this up for him to say thanks. Thumper had sensed that Avery wanted nothing more than to be violently penetrated by a bunch of his thuggish friends. Avery’s hostility vanished. Thumper smiled, his cruel visage vanishing; his friends couldn’t see his face, so Thumper crossed his arms over his chest such that his body language was hostile and menacing, but his face said, let us in, we’ll have a good time.
Avery opened the door. He had to suppress a smile, but luckily the other gangbangers were not really paying much attention. It seemed they expected to see a terrified Avery, so that was what they saw. Avery was legitimately afraid, even if he was also excited.
“How we gonna do this, Thumper?”
“Let’s punish that snitch!”
“Alright, homeboys, we gonna destroy this whiteboi,” Thumper said. He placed one hand on Avery’s shoulder, and squeezed supportively. “But we can’t hurt ‘im too bad. No leavin’ marks, homeboys, or he just gonna squeal all over again.”
Thumper led them all into the locker room, and the shower area. Someone turned on the water, so hot steam filled the air. Thumper pushed Avery to stand next to the shower, with his face in the water stream. That made it hard for Avery to hear as the others all took off their clothes.
Avery didn’t need to pretend to be scared. He was terrified, excited, aroused and trembling all at once.
“Wreck that snitch, Thumper!”
Thumper wasted no time in slamming his dick into Avery’s ass. He hooted and pumped his biceps as he did, and he pulled Avery out of the water. Avery gulped and blinked his eyes open, sliding to his knees along with Thumper.
“Make ‘im squirm!”
“Now, we gonna mess you up, boi…” Thumper muttered, spitting directly into Avery’s ear.
The pain in his ass was intense, but Avery could feel pleasure mounting as well. His whole body throbbed in Thumper’s arms. Thumper slammed his dick in hard, ramming it in and out as the hot shower water pooled beneath their bodies.
“Damn, Thumper, you ruinin’ that ass!”
“Alright, let’s have a snitch party,” Thumper said. “Rupert, come here and make ‘im eat yo’ ass.”
Rupert was a tall thug with dreadlocks and a Jamaican accent. He sneered at Avery, whose heart pounded. It looked like Rupert would have beat Avery up if Thumper weren’t here to stop him, and that thought send a thrill up Avery’s spine.
“Eat mi bum, snitch…” Rupert said, his lilting accent echoing in the shower. He turned around and bent over, long dreadlocks dangling over the side of his body. He spread his asscheeks, which were plump and thick even though his body was lean and lanky.
Avery dived in. He didn’t remember to look unwilling, but it seemed no one noticed. They flogged their limp dicks as they watched and hooted out encouragement.
“Ew, he doin’ it! This snitch is nasty as fuck!”
Avery’s tongue lapped at Rupert’s ass, snatching up every drop of sweat he could find. He stimulated Rupert’s prostate, which sent a shiver of desire up Rupert’s spine. Avery could tell that made Rupert hard even if he was facing the wrong way to see it.
Avery was so involved in the rimjob that he barely noticed Thumper guiding his hands up to other men’s cocks. They all had huge cocks, big enough that Avery wondered if Thumper had chosen them based on cock size. Avery stroked someone off with each of his hands as he licked Rupert’s ass.
Then Rupert turned around without warning. He slammed his dick down Avery’s throat, laughing as Avery gagged. He had an incredibly long cock, and it was already dripping precum from the rimjob.
Avery was so focused on slurping off Rupert that he didn’t realize the cock in his right hand was nearing orgasm, not until whoever it was pushed his cock in next to Rupert’s. He felt its heat pulsating against his lips as both shafts mashed up next to each other.
“Shit, you double-teamin’ that snitchin’ bitch!”
Rupert growled and said something Avery didn’t catch, all the men were being so loud right now he could barely make out any words — but he gathered that Rupert didn’t like touching cocks. Nobody seemed to worried about Rupert’s comfort, however, as cum flowed into Avery’s mouth from both dicks, the one he had been jacking off and Rupert at the same time.
They were trying to bukkake him though, so neither sprayed right down his throat. Instead they burst their loads all over Avery’s face.
“Ugh, damn, homeboy, you got yo’ nut on me!”
“Fuckin’ hell, this is sum nasty-ass shit, Thumper, can’t believe you talked me into this.”
Somebody else took Rupert’s place, Tyrell Brickley. Another big black cock invaded his throat, and Avery slathered spit up and down it. By this time Avery had lost count of how many different dicks had blown their wads on his face. They began taking turns on his mouth, jabbing their dicks in just long enough to get hard and make Avery choke a bit, then pulling their cocks out.
None of them seemed to mind that Avery’s face was covered in cum, so they were touching each other’s nuts with their dicks and sometimes even their fingers.
“Makin’ snitch soup on this bitch’s face! Gonna make him slurp that shit up!”
Meanwhile Thumper remained right behind Avery, with his fat cock in Avery’s ass. Thumper was close enough that Avery thought he must have gotten some cum on his face as well, but Thumper either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.
When a thug nutted, nothing changed — the other men kept slapping their dicks over Avery’s face even as their buddy coated their meat with his seed, and then they used their shafts to smear it around on Avery’s lips.
“I bet you wish you ain’t snitch now, huh?”
The taste of cum was intense, and only grew with every passing moment. Avery had never experienced anything so hot, and so delicious. He desperately wanted to lick his face off, but he didn’t. He let them spray and spray until there was no corner of his face that wasn’t covered in hot cum.
Since they didn’t stop smacking Avery’s face with their dicks even after they came, Avery didn’t notice that they were done until he saw that everyone was limp — everyone except Thumper. He was still in Avery’s ass, slowly grinding like he wanted to save himself for the end.
Then he stood up and pulled his dick out. Intense relief flooded Avery, whose ass had grown numb anyway. He could still feel little spermies covering his face and dripping down his body onto the shower floor.
“Make ‘im nasty, Thumper!”
“Ass to mouth! Ass to mouth!”
Thumper smiled cruelly and smacked his dick over Avery’s face. His throbbing hard dick sopped up a mountain of cum, huge gobs of it sticking to his shaft.
“Damn, Thumper, that is some nasty shit!”
Avery opened his mouth even before Thumper was ready. Thumper’s sweaty balls plopped in first, and Avery sucked every drop of fluid from there. Then he kept his mouth open as Thumper aimed his dick right in to Avery’s throat.
He tasted deeply of cum already, since his dick was coated with it. But Thumper ignored that and rammed his dick all the way in. Avery gagged and the other thugs all cheered. They clasped Thumper on his naked back, so close together that Avery could see their floppy cocks brushing up against each other. Either no one noticed or they didn’t care.
Thumper shot his load moments later, grunting and heaving as his wad flowed right down Avery’s throat. He had a huge dick, heavy balls and thick nut, creamy and hot. It tasted sour and sweet and savory all at once, making Avery so aroused he shot his own load into his hands.
Luckily it seemed none of the thugs around him noticed that Avery was jacking himself off — that would surely have tipped them off that he wasn’t the unwilling snitch they all thought he was. He wondered how often they had treated actual snitches like this.
Thumper pulled off. He spat on Avery’s face. “You learn yo’ lesson, snitch?”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said. He didn’t have to force himself to gag when Thumper withdrew his dick, and he gagged again just at the thought of so much cum still clinging to his face.
Thumper reached down and touched Avery’s cheeks. He wiped his hand over Avery’s face, covering his fingers in cum. That much was apparently more than the other thugs expected, because they all clutched each other and hooted like they had never seen something so incredible.
“Damn, Thumper you are one nasty old nigga!”
His hands were callused and firm. Avery licked them clean, and again he didn’t need to force himself to gag. He sucked up every drop off Thumper’s dirty hand, and then when Thumper turned around, Avery kissed his asshole as ordered.
“Give it a nice sloppy kiss, snitch, and then we leave you alone,” Thumper said.
Avery collapsed into a sweaty mess on the floor. He was spent and exhausted. The other men all interpreted it as fear and self-loathing, and they all wagged their dicks in his direction as they put their clothes back on.
“Twenty minutes, bitch,” Thumper said. “You ain’t allowed to clean up for twenty minutes. You sit there with our nasty on yo’ face and think about being a dirty snitch. You can clean yo’self up after twenty minutes.”
They all walked out, leaving Avery there alone to gather his breath. He didn’t know if Thumper had any way of verifying that Avery waited twenty minutes, but he had no intention of disobeying anyway. Avery loved the bukkake all over his face, and he would have stayed there all night if it hadn’t dried and gotten crusty eventually.
Instead Avery waited until the twenty minutes were up, then took a shower. He was surprised to find Thumper waiting for him out in the main room. Thumper grunted.
“You okay?”
Avery nodded. “Thanks, that was-“
“Shut up. I wanted to make sure you was okay,” he said. “I just might have some more homeboys in the future who wanna punish a snitch. You ready to be that snitch?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Good.”

The Model

Avery hires a hunky model for a photoshoot, but the stud’s girlfriend ruins everything, and he’s got an inconvenient bulge he can’t get rid of… That’s where Avery comes in! He’s willing to service this handsome alpha if that’s what it takes!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Apparently, this was the only weeping willow tree in front of a barn and a pond in this area. Avery didn’t think that could possibly be true. Weeping willow trees were everywhere. Ponds and barns were quite common. How could this be the only suitable location? It was probably just the only one they could find a picture of on the Internet.
But Avery wasn’t about to complain. He had a spot laid out he thought would look good, so long as the model showed up soon, before the sun moved.
He paced back and forth. This was the first time he had been hired as a photographer, after months of selling cut-rate services online. Thus far, it had been kind of a bust.
But then all of a sudden, a large Indian company hired him to take twelve pictures — of handsome shirtless American men. They were making a calendar, it seemed. Avery was excited. This seemed like a real possible entrance into the world of professional photography. On the one hand, taking shirtless-hunk pics was kind of cheap, but on the other hand, it was indisputably professional, not amateur — Avery would be able to put on his resume that he had produced the pictures for a best-selling calendar (obviously he didn’t know if it would be best-selling, but no one regulated that kind of claim, and for all he knew, it would be a best-seller in India).
He wondered if he should have looked up what Indian women thought was handsome. He hadn’t considered that. Should he assume they wanted what he would want? Would an American man think the same thing was sexy as some Indian women? The Indian company who hired him hadn’t even said that they were releasing it in India, so that all might not even matter.
He tried doing some googling with the Google India portal. As far as he could tell, aside from a preference for beards, there wasn’t much he could glean about handsome Indian men.
They wouldn’t want a picture in front of an American barn if they wanted him to look Indian, Avery thought. What if the model is Indian? He should have asked more questions when he accepted the gig. It had seemed so simple at the time: just snap some pics of a handsome bare-chested dude in front of a weeping willow, a pond and a barn. They even found the location for him and hired the model (and when the original model had had to cancel, they found a replacement).
Finally a little red Ferrari zoomed along the winding country roads that carved through the mountains. It was going way too fast, Avery thought. It came to a screeching halt on the asphalt — not on the little gravel road that led to the barn, which was where Avery had parked.
“Oh my god, Owen if you think you’re parking my dad’s Ferrari in the fucking gravel, you are very mistaken,” said a female voice. She was Veranda, and she was a pretty but harsh-looking woman with an angular face and blonde hair so perfectly cascading past her shoulders that it looked like she had scalped a Barbie. Avery instantly took a disliking to her and not just because she was Owen’s girlfriend.
Owen was the model, and he was dreamy, impossibly hunky, cringe-inducingly handsome. Avery wanted to gaze into his soulful eyes and hear him wax philosophically about sunsets. He wanted to slather him with kisses. Avery hadn’t expected him to be like that. He was kind of lean, but well-muscled, long-limbed, tall but not extraordinarily so. He had dark hair in an impeccable little foppish wave, every strand in place and plastered there with some sort of mousse that Avery guessed was very expensive. He had dour dimples and a disaffected grin on his face as he got out of the car, tossed his head back to get his hair out of his eyes and nodded at Avery.
Still on the road, they had to walk to meet Avery. Owen was mostly silent the whole way, but Veranda kept talking. “This is all so ridiculous. I can’t believe we drove all this way for this.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“I mean, we drove for like an hour to get here, an hour back, that means you’re making like twenty bucks an hour. That’s bullshit. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t piss on a dead dog for that,” she said. She lit her cigarette. “And for that…” She glanced over at Avery as though she didn’t want to finish her sentence in front of him.
That’s because she and Owen had been about to have sex when he got the call asking him to come here for a photoshoot. Owen had been struggling to break into modeling for awhile. He was desperate for any gig he could get. So he went even if it disrupted them from having sex.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen until after Owen took a little blue boner pill.
It wasn’t until Avery had shaken Owen’s hand and gotten him to take his shirt off that he noticed the erection. Owen had aimed it up so it wasn’t that obvious at first. Once you saw it though, you couldn’t hardly miss it.
For one thing, he had worn tight skinny-jeans. There was nowhere to hide his ten inches of manmeat in those pants. Avery snuck glances at it as he explained the photoshoot and got a look at Owen next to the barn and weeping willow. He looked good in the right light, real good. This was going to be a nice photoshoot. But Avery’s eyes were drawn over and over to the Wiagro-fueled bulge in his designer jeans.
Owen blushed when he saw Avery checking it out. He again re-angled his cock upwards, so it wouldn’t tent his pants. It was still visible though.
“Ah, so… You have a, uh…” Avery blushed. “That’s going to be a problem.” He pointed to Owen’s crotch. “It’s very distracting.”
“Sorry, man… what kinda pants am I supposed to wear? I can hide it,” Owen said. He bit his lip nervously, showing off those outrageous dimples that made Avery swoon. His whole body sort of undulated when he got nervous, showing off those outrageous abs — he did one-hundred sit-ups twice a day. He demonstrated that, with his cock at the right angle, it wasn’t visible. But every time he moved, it was no longer at the right angle, and he winced each time because his erect dick was so sensitive. “Sorry. I, uh… I have a hardon. It’s hard to get rid of-“
“He’s not kidding, it won’t go away for hours.”
“Don’t worry, I, uh, I have spare pants. They’re corduroys,” Avery said. “Let’s go into the barn and change.” He glanced back at Veranda. “I’ll… I’ll work around, uh… your anatomical… issues-“
She scoffed and took a deep drag. “He took a pill, mister, that thing’s not going away for a couple hours. Cuz if he thinks I am letting him fuck me in a fucking barn in the fucking middle of fucking nowhere, he is sorely mistaken-“
Owen interrupted her, his face suddenly tense and red. “I didn’t fucking ask you to fuck me in a fucking barn in the fucking middle of fucking nowhere-!”
“Don’t you shout at me, you loser!” She shouted right back. “Go ahead and get him off, mister! He’s gonna stay hard until you do.” She crossed her arms over her chest and took out her phone to start texting. Avery got the feeling she had been waiting for a good opportunity to lose herself in her phone and that she was not going to pay any more attention to Owen. Owen seemed relieved by that.
Avery nodded as politely as he could muster at her, not that she was paying attention, she was focused on that phone. He walked away, arm in arm with Owen.
When they got in the barn, Avery handed the corduroys over to Owen, who dropped his pants. That was when Avery saw how huge his cock was, and how throbbing that erection. He had been blue-balled, it seemed, and Avery was tantalized by its meaty heft and how close it already appeared to orgasm
I bet I could just run my finger along the top of it and he’d bust out, Avery thought. He blushed.
“Corduroys, huh? Do people still wear corduroys?”
“Maybe in India,” Avery said with a shrug. “They told me these would be good pants to wear.” He watched as Owen tried to fit into the corduroys, but they were a little small for him, and his massive erection kept getting in the way. Owen blushed until he was as red as Avery.
“Uh… I’ve been working out, getting more muscle tone,” Owen said. “I prolly need bigger pants. I have big thighs now. I can do it though, I just… uh…”
“Was your girlfriend serious about me jacking you off?”
Owen nodded. “You’re like… into that? Is that… cool? I mean…?” He was one of those people who talked as if everything was a question, so it was hard to tell what he actually intended as a question and what was a statement.
Avery dropped to his knees. “I just need you to go soft enough for us to take a couple pics. No biggie. I’m a professional like that. I’ll do what it takes to make this photoshoot a success.”
Owen sucked in his breath and nodded again. He peered outside to see if his girlfriend was coming closer. She was focused on her phone and wouldn’t likely put it down until he said he was done. Owen rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d let a man jack him off. Owen found a lot of modeling gigs came easier if he let a producer manhandle him. He didn’t mind. In this case, it wasn’t even that — he already had the gig. He could even have masturbated if he really wanted to.
But that would have definitely made Veranda make fun of him. She would have called him a pussy for jacking his own self off, like a loser-ass pansy. She was like that.
Avery sunk to his knees at Owen’s feet, and he pulled those corduroys down until his cock was bare. Avery chased it with his mouth, while Owen stood there like he was modeling already, putting out a smoldering handsome face aimed in no direction in particular. He looked contemplative, serious yet casual.
Finally, his dick plopped heavily on Avery’s waiting tongue. It tasted like sex, Avery decided, you could tell he had been thinking about sex, maybe even precummy, not that long ago. He might have fucked Veranda recently. Though she did seem like the kind of girlfriend who usually found an excuse not to have sex. She was like that, Avery could tell.
He could sense that Owen had been hard for a long time too. He was rock-hard but still springy and just a bit floppy in the best possible way. His veiny shaft was not pulsating like a normal hardon at first, but it did begin to throb once Avery got it excited — basically, it was still and dull when his erection was caused by pharmaceuticals, but once it was caused by arousal, it was a potent, throbbing stiffy like any other.
Avery played with it a bit first, while Owen made nervous mewling noises and kept checking his girlfriend. She had said he “could” do this, but he didn’t want her to know he actually did it. She’d probably insist he make friends with Avery so anytime she didn’t want to suck him off — pretty much always — she’d tell him to get his nut off from Avery.
That’d be a great plan from Avery’s perspective. Not so much for Owen.
He sighed and tried to relax to enjoy the mouth on his cock, which Avery worked on with enthusiasm. It did feel good, he thought, as Avery slathered his shaft with spit and slurped merrily on the tip. It was nice to get jacked off by someone eager to do it. Veranda treated it like a chore, like doing the dishes — a chore that Owen couldn’t even tell her not to worry about, because she insisted he would cheat on her if she didn’t do it. Somehow she did things neither of them wanted, yet it was Owen’s fault.
Not Avery. Owen could tell Avery did this because he wanted it, because he needed it, because Owen’s cock was that good. Avery guzzled it down.
“Hmmmm…. You taste sweet,” Avery said when he pulled off Owen’s shaft. A few drops of precum came out the tip, and Avery slurped them down. The bright, salty taste of Owen’s body hit his senses.
Avery slurped on the tip with a smirk as he played with the underside of Owen’s shaft. He let it dance overtop his face, with his mouth and lips planted right at the root, on the underside. He let his tongue snake out and tickle the veiny spot where his dick met his ballsac. The taste was salty and funk, accentuated by the vaporous chypre of the drugstore cologne Owen wore.
Owen groaned and closed his eyes. “Goddamn, man, you got a nice mouth. You’re better than Veranda. I swear, she’s like ninety-percent teeth. She’s like a shark.”
Avery chuckled. He spat on the shaft then licked it off, making Owen groan and shudder in excitement. Avery licked his way down the shaft until he got to those low-hanging balls, which were clean and ripe and juicy. Avery guzzled them down, letting his mouth fill with Owen’s fleshy sac.
“Can I lick your ass?” Avery asked. He didn’t often give out rimjobs, but if he were ever going to do it, Owen was perfect. He had a nice clean ass, fleshy and firm and strong. It smelled of sunshine and coconut soap.
His eyes opening wide, Owen blushed as he turned around. He once again checked his girlfriend — she was texting angrily now, presumably either bitching about him or sympathizing with one of her friends who was bitching about her boyfriend. She ignored him. She didn’t seem to have even noticed that this was taking a long time — technically, Owen had only come in here to change his pants. But it had already been a good five minutes, maybe more like ten.
For all she knows, this photographer turned out to be a serial killer and he’s already turning my dick into a lampshade, Owen thought to himself. The more time he spent with Veranda, the more he wanted to dump her.
But Owen was one of those guys who was literally never single. Since middle school, he always had a serious girlfriend. He hadn’t gone more than a week or two without a girlfriend in years. He didn’t know how to handle life without a woman telling him what to do.
And supporting him. Owen didn’t make enough from modeling to pay the bills.
Avery kneeled behind Owen, who leaned on a railing of some kind — this barn wasn’t used anymore, but it looked like at one point it had been for milking cows. Owen grimaced and spread his legs wide so Avery could get between his cheeks. His thighs were thickly muscled, and his buttcheeks were smooth like porcelain. Avery rammed his tongue in quickly, his hands kneadig the flesh of Owen’s backside.
“Oh god…” Owen wasn’t expecting it to feel so good, especially right away. He threw his eyebrows way back, and he let out a long moan.
From the moment Avery’s tongue hit his asshole, spasms of pleasure shot up Owen’s spine. Owen grunted and groaned. Avery’s tongue rammed into him. It seemed impossibly long, and Owen even looked behind himself to check if it was really his tongue or if it was a finger.
But he’d never gotten a rimjob before, so he didn’t know what it was supposed to be like. Was his ass that sensitive? Or was Avery’s tongue that big? Or maybe Avery was just really good at it. A wave of pleasure exploded in Owen’s body, like something he had never experienced, it was toe-curlingly intense.
Regardless, Owen’s eyes bulged out and he lifted one foot like a dog getting scratched. He wrenched his head back and held his breath.
Avery lapped at his perfectly clean and smooth ass. Owen had even gotten his anus bleached a few weeks ago, so it was pristine. His asscheeks were a lightly tanned brown, the same shade as the rest of his skin — obviously, Avery thought, he tanned in the nude. He had no tan lines at all.
Finally Owen had had enough. His cock strained to finally shoot his wad. He pulled away a little gingerly, his knees going weak when Avery’s face moved away from his ass. “Okay, man, I gotta nut. I swear it feels like I’ve been hard for years, man. I don’t even remember what it feels like to not… y’know… to be able to think about something else.” He gasped. “Oh god, I need to nut-“
“You wanna stick it in me?” Avery asked. He turned around, baring his own ass, which was paler and not as perfectly smooth as Owen’s, but still it was good enough for Owen’s horny body. He didn’t even care anymore, he just wanted to ram his dick in some tight hole and finally blow his wad.
So he didn’t even answer Avery’s question. He didn’t want to speak for fear of attracting attention from Veranda out there. She might have genuinely gotten angry if she knew what he was doing. She didn’t even know about cornholing, Owen was pretty sure. Or if she knew about it, she thought it was an urban legend, not something anybody would do.
And she’d never touch Owen again if she knew.
In any case, Avery was plenty loud for him from the moment Owen’s cock rammed up his backside. Avery grunted and groaned, pawing at the ground just from sheer excitement as that meaty shaft slid between his cheeks. It felt even girthier because Owen was skinny-muscled. It looked like he had stolen a thick man’s cock, Avery thought, making him giggle as he squeezed the lube he always kept in his pocket over his own ass and Owen’s shaft.
That helped the rest of Owen’s erection slide into Avery’s ass. Owen grimaced, humping his dick between Avery’s cheeks until he saw lube bubbling in and out of the hole. Then he aimed it in, closed his eyes and moaned.
It felt so good. Fucking Veranda hadn’t been this good in years, not since they first hooked up, if ever. None of his girlfriends ever made him feel like this.
He completely lost track of time. Owen didn’t even care how long it took or about the money from the photo shoot. None of that seemed important. All that mattered was ramming his entire rod into Avery’s ass, ramming into him over and over, exploring every inch of his tender body. Sensations exploded through both men’s bodies. Owen moved with more passion than he ever had.
“Oh god, stick it in me!” Avery called out. He had completely forgotten Veranda was out there. Owen didn’t think much about that either. She had excised herself from his life, Owen thought, so why should he care if she knew about this? What was the worst she could do? Bitch about it like she already bitched about every single thing that happened?
He wasn’t sure he had ever gotten his entire dick in a woman’s ass. He was big enough that that was a challenge, and he was too much of a doe-eyed prettyboy to really push for it anyway. So it felt nice to jam his dick in and out, clapping his hands and smacking Avery’s plump cheeks. Most women couldn’t even take his whole cock in their pussies, and Veranda would never lower herself to trying. She thought only ghetto-sluts did anal.
Finally he felt an orgasm approach, exquisite bliss spiderwebbing through Owen’s body, making his muscles all tighten up at once. Owen sighed and moaned out loud, blushing as he saw Veranda poke her head into the barn. Her eyes opened wide.
She was just in time to watch Owen’s six-pack undulate as he orgasmed. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath. His balls slapped against Avery’s asscheeks, making a loud thwack-thwack sound with each thrust of his hips at Avery’s tight booty. Veranda’s face froze.
He stayed there all the way in, cock throbbing within Avery’s ass, as the most intense orgasm of his life burst within him. Owen shouted and pounded on his chest. He ran his fingers through his coiffed hair, finally messing up his hairdo and giving himself that ‘just-fucked-a-chick’ look. A similar surge of pleasure coursed through Avery’s veins, and Avery panted, crying out for more.
“Owen!” Veranda shouted, yelping at the sight of her boyfriend’s ruddy face and bulging eyes. She held her breath and tried to look away but found herself unable to do so.
Owen didn’t respond. He was too busy writhing with bliss as he climaxed into Avery’s tight ass. Avery had been stroking himself off the whole time, and he shot his own wad soon after, spraying it over the wooden floor of the barn. A vast flood of it spurted several feet in front of him, as Owen’s cock stimulated a prostate orgasm that wracked Avery from head to toe.
Her feet tapped on the barn floor. Veranda had said Owen should get jacked off by Avery, not stick him in the butt. She had trouble thinking of a reason she should be angry about this, but she wasn’t about to let an opportunity to win an argument pass her by.
“Owen! How dare you?!” Veranda scowled.
“What?” Owen said, his voice wavering because he was still in the throes of orgasm. “You said to jack off with him.” The last few drops of his load filled up Avery’s ass.
Only then did Avery realize Veranda was even here. She seemed so unimportant to him. Even now, as Owen and her yelled, Avery’s attention remained on the fat cock in his ass, stimulating his prostate and causing a symphony of sensations to continue sparking up and down Avery’s petite body.
“I said to put it in his mouth, you jackass!” She scowled. “That’s disgusting, what you’re doing… It’s… It’s…”
“Nuh-uh,” Owen said with a throaty laugh. He took a deep breath, watching his dick throb within Avery’s cheeks. Then he pulled slowly out. Both him and Avery sighed when his cock left Avery’s ass, and both men’s knees went weak. “Goddamn, man, I needed that. Shit, you-“
“Don’t you talk back to me!”
“-you got hella nice ass, man,” Owen said, speaking over Veranda. He blushed intensely. That was true and he meant to say it, but he said it mainly to prove to Veranda he didn’t need to hang on her every word. He was his own man, not simply her boyfriend.
“Thanks. You got a nice dick. It’s a pity this photoshoot isn’t naked,” Avery said. He cleaned himself off with a wetnap.
“You hear me, you jerk?! This photoshoot is over!”
“No! We’re over. Go home, Veranda,” Owen said. He looked to Avery. “You’ll give me a ride home, right? That’s her car. Or her dad’s, I mean. Nothing is hers. You can play with it some more on the way. I’m sure I’ll be hard again by then.”
“Sure,” Avery said as Veranda stomped away to her car. Avery cleared his throat. “Okay, well, get those corduroys on. We’ll have to hurry to get these pics taken before your boner comes back.” Avery smiled. His first photoshoot as a professional photographer had gone better than expected.

The Ladysman

Teddy winds up hiring the handsome Turkish gigolo Emre… Emre needs cash and is willing to pleasure anyone who’s willing to pay, giving Teddy a wild ride in gigolo action!

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Read the whole thing here!

The convention was as boring as any convention ever was. Teddy wanted to tear his eyeballs out — he had experienced a lot of conventions, and this was the worst one yet. He had to sling drinks to dozens of businessmen in cheap suits while they tromped all over his hotel.
Of course it wasn’t really his hotel, he was just a bartender who worked at a country club that was also owned by this hotel, so he had been transferred here when the regular bartender called out sick. That sickness had continued so long that Teddy now knew every inch of this place.
Mostly the guests had come here to ski, if they weren’t here for the convention, which was for bathroom fixtures. Teddy couldn’t imagine a more boring topic for a convention. He didn’t even understand how people could have the idea to schedule a convention for bathroom fixtures without dying from absolutely boredom. What kind of person would brainstorm ideas for business ventures and think, “yes, a convention for bathroom-fixture salespersons, that would be a compelling thing that people will pay money for”? And then, the most shocking part of it all, they were right! People did pay money for it! It was a sound business venture!
Just seeing them drink after a day spent doing whatever, Teddy had no idea what someone would actually do at a bathroom fixtures convention, was enough to make Teddy bored to tears. Did they discuss toilets all day? Advanced urinal theory? Ten tricks to make a tampon disposal box more festive for the holidays?
Teddy sighed. Mostly the convention-goers were tubby men with pasty cheeks and layers of flab ensconced in cheap suits. A few sturdy women who look like they get plenty of fiber filled out the ranks. Well, he thought, they certainly look like they know their way around the bathroom. These men look like they’ve spent most of their lives sitting on the toilet trying to get rid of the Big Macs they scarfed down.
Teddy was not happy with this weekend.
“Hey, how are you doing? Gin and tonic, please,” said a throaty woman’s voice. “Make it a double. Double gin, single tonic. Don’t bother trying to upsell me on the gin, just gimme the rail. Or hell, gimme vodka that’s been stored near a spice-cabinet, that’ll do.” She put a cigarette in her mouth. “Got a light?”
Teddy nodded. He lit her cigarette and made her drink. She sipped from it. She was pretty in an upper-class, upper-age, upper-bitch way, with soft brown hair and a botoxed face. She was probably beautiful twenty years ago. He liked her already.
“Slim pickings here this weekend, huh?” Teddy said. He made sure to say it as flamboyantly as he could so she would know he was referring to males.
She chuckled throatily. “Yeah. I guess I never thought a bathroom-fixtures convention would be full of excitement, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“You should have been here a couple months ago, we had a bouncer-event. It was pretty hot. Muscle-bound meatheads everywhere,” Teddy said. He blushed. “You’d have had your pick of men then. Assuming you like ’em big and macho.”
She nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m no muscle-queen, but anything would be better than these toilet-shaped dweebs. I wish I was in that field. Bouncers.” She scoffed. “Well, if only there was money in it…”
“There’s not many women here. What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m in marketing. I know, bathroom fixtures is a boy’s club. I’ve talked to all of the women here, and they’re all stuck-up bitches like me,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. A smile appeared on her stretched-taut face, and she sighed as she finished her drink. “Well, I didn’t come here to get laid anyway. I came here to network.” She paused. “Is there a local joint worth visiting in this one-horse town?”
“Not really.” Teddy paused. “Are you… like… horny?”
She furrowed her brow. “Uh… Well, are you propositioning me?” She laughed haughtily.
“No, not me,” Teddy said. He blushed. “Just… if you wanted to… there’s a guy here, a guy who works as a masseur for the country club next door.”
“Uh-huh.” She yawned and took a long but small sip from her gin and tonic. “I don’t normally hook up with, y’know… the help. Sorry if that makes me sound elitist-“
“No worries. He’s not really the help, exactly. I mean, he’s a masseur, but that’s just a way to meet clients and launder his income,” Teddy said. “He’s really a gigolo. The hotel looks the other way.”
“A what?”
“He’ll fuck you for five hundred dollars,” Teddy said. “And he will rock your world. He’ll make you feel so good your pussy falls off.” He paused. “Or so I’ve heard. He licks pussy like nobody’s business.”
“Are you serious?” She looked like she was going to laugh and say no. Then she fell silent. She looked around the room, then back at Teddy. “Five hundred dollars?”
Teddy nodded. “Just call to the front desk. Ask for a massage. Ask for Emre. If you don’t ask for Emre, they’ll send you this fat Polish lady. I don’t know what she’d do for five hundred dollars, but you probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much as Emre.” Teddy shrugged. “He’s Turkish.”
Her eyes lit up. She didn’t respond right away. She was a smart, well-adjusted businesswoman. She wasn’t here for some prostitution.
But on the other hand… if she were ever going to pay a man for sex…
Teddy had another customer then, so he had to walk away. He watched the lady at the bar consider the possibility for a few moments before she got up. She smiled at Teddy and walked out into the hotel lobby.
Well, there’s a hundred dollars. Teddy could virtually smell the horniness wafting out from under her skirt. She was definitely going to do it.
The rest of the convention was uneventful. Teddy served drinks and pointed men towards the one brothel in town when they asked about women — which they all started doing a little after midnight. Teddy didn’t get paid per client for the brothel, so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about referring them. Emre, however, paid him for each client he sent that way.
Teddy saw the woman — Wendy Allister — the next morning, looking shame-faced yet relaxed. Emre had treated her right, that was clear. He always did. Teddy wished he could watch sometime. Emre made women feel “like liquid gold”, as one lady had told him.
Teddy blushed when he nodded at Emre, who came over to the bar and surreptitiously slipped Teddy his hundred dollars — that was Teddy’s commission for sending Emre a woman.
“Thanks for the lead,” Emre said. He had a dense spatchocking accent, all clutters of consonants and staccato vowels that made Teddy lose himself in those dimples. Seeing Emre smile at him always made Teddy blush and stammer over his words. “She was a very good client.”
He kept talking, but Teddy was entranced. Emre was so arousing it hurt. He had an incredibly thick mane of black hair, densely curly, extending up and down and out all at once. He was strong but lean and ropy-muscled, not at all bulky, with a square jaw and a hooked nose whose imperfect shape made his face all the more handsome.
Teddy was drawn to those sterling green eyes, so bright they were almost fluorescent. Teddy had insisted for months that Emre must wear colored contacts, but Emre denied it.
“She was a very good woman,” Emre said with a grin. “She was a little old, but I do not mind. Old women need loving too.” He pulled out a lottery ticket. It was a winner — two hundred dollars — but he hadn’t cashed it yet. “She gave me this too.” That was a lie, but Emre was a well-practiced liar. It didn’t even occur to Teddy that Emre had been holding onto the lotto ticket for months.
Emre had a gambling problem.
No one knew about it. Teddy knew that Emre occasionally gambled on sports, and he had seen him scratching lottery tickets, but no one knew that Emre barely managed to keep it together — every month, he paid his bills and then spent most of the remainder on lotto tickets, scratch-offs, betting or even trips to the casino on the Indian reservation nearby.
So that four hundred dollars he made this weekend went away pretty quick. He paid off a debt to his bookie. It meant he wouldn’t be able to pay his rent on time this month, but he could get past that. There was going to be a human resources convention next weekend, and Emre thought he’d make plenty of money then.
He’d held onto this winning lotto ticket for months now. He could always cash it. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was winning. Emre had read somewhere that that was one technique to reduce “problem gambling” — not that Emre believed he was a problem gambler — because he could pull it out anytime and feel like he had just won. He would maybe not feel compelled to gamble if he could feel like he had won anytime.
Once he had it in his pocket for a couple days, he didn’t even think about cashing it. It was only two hundred dollars. No problem. He didn’t need the money.
He did need the feeling. He needed to have it in his pocket, so he could finger it and look at it and anticipate what it would be like to cash it in. The way they would look at him at the lotto place — he could go to any gas station and cash it in, but he wanted to go to the lotto office. It felt righter to do it there. They knew how to do it right. They’d look at him like a winner. He’d feel like a winner.
And as long as he didn’t do it, he could savor that feeling.
Regardless, it was that next weekend that the HR convention was in town. Emre figured a human resources director convention would have to be ground zero for gigolos. So many lonely women! He could make bank.
But then that HR convention didn’t happen. The HR directors didn’t show up — the convention was cancelled after a freak snowstorm shut down the airport for the whole weekend. Emre had no way of making money. He needed a couple hundred bucks to pay his bills this month. He’d counted on that HR convention and spent some money he probably shouldn’t have.
Okay, he put money down on a basketball game. A couple basketball games. And he lost every dime.
Not an app either. Emre had been banned from all the sports betting apps because he showed “problem behaviors” and sent a manic avalanche of emails to the developer of one app, when he found a bug — a real bug, he identified how it worked and everything. He’d told the developer about it in emails sent through LinkedIn, which got him banned both from that app and from LinkedIn, and he even got a “stop harassing people” email from GMail.
Anyway, Emre had a bookie, and he now owed that bookie a hundred dollars. Not that much, but he also was late on rent and had these medical bills due…
He was expecting to make at least two grand out of these HR ladies. That should have been easy. If the HR convention happened, he would have, no problem.
But as he pondered his situation, Emre could think of only one way to make the minimum he needed to pay off his bookie and get up to date on his rent.
Teddy wiped the bar down at the end of the night. It had been slow tonight because there was no convention, just a few dozen lonely businesspeople having small meetings or rendezvousing with their mistresses. Emre watched Teddy clean the bar as the night drew to a close.
Unlike Emre, Teddy was glad the HR convention was canceled. He could think of nothing more boring than spending the entire weekend with a bunch of HR ladies. What did they talk about? The mind boggles. It’s probably a marathon of threats to add things to “the permanent record”, endless self-evaluations and probing questions asked by idiots.
But at least Emre was here. Teddy snuck glances at him as he shut down the bar.
Emre was good at flirting with women. He did it without even thinking about it. But how did he flirt with a man? Emre had no idea. It didn’t come naturally to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t think he could do it.
He flashed a dimpled smile, hoping to get Teddy’s attention. It worked, but then Teddy just went back to cleaning the counter as though he hadn’t noticed — he hadn’t realized that seductive smile was aimed at him. Teddy was so used to seeing Emre flirt with women he didn’t recognize when he was the actual target.
Only gradually did Teddy realize there were no women around. The bar was empty of women. Who was Emre smiling at?
“Hey,” Emre said when Teddy got near him again.
“Oh, hi. Slim pickings, huh?” Teddy said, laughing to himself — that was the same conversation-starter he had used with that woman. Emre didn’t get why it was funny, but he laughed too.
Emre smoothed his hair and straightened the collar of his shirt. “There was a lady in here earlier who seemed like a good prospect, but then she got all mad at me. Said she’s Mormon. I guess they don’t do gigolos.”
“Yeah. Yeah, Mormons don’t do most things.”
A long silence sat between them at the bar. Teddy was ready to take the cash drawer into the back, to put it in the safe, but he sensed Emre wanted to say something more than small-talk. Emre licked his teeth and looked down the drink he was still finishing. Then he knocked back the rest of his brandy and tonic.
Finally, Emre cleared his throat. “I could use a client this weekend for sure. So, uh… you’re… you’re nice, uh.. In the hair.”
“What?” Teddy screwed up his eyes. He had never been complimented like that. He didn’t even understand that Emre was complimenting his hair at first, then when he did get it, Teddy ran his fingers through his hair.
Emre blushed. He was never flustered like this. Women took compliments better than that. He straightened his collar again. How do you compliment men? “I just mean, your hair is nice. Your-“
“My hair? What are you talking about? It’s the same it always is.”
“Sorry, I mean… I just wanted to say, y’know, I know you’re… You have, uh… good… qualities,” Emre said. He was trying to think of things women complimented men on. They always mentioned Emre’s hair, which was dense and jet-black and perfectly wavy, and they liked his dimples and his muscular body. But Teddy was slim and had ordinary white-man hair. Emre wasn’t sure what to compliment on a man like that.
“Okay.” Teddy’s eyes were open wide like he was mystified by what was happening. “Thanks. I guess.”
“Sorry. I, uh… I was just…”
“Do you want to say something to me? Just say it.”
“Will you pay me five hundred dollars to jack me off?!” Emre blurted out. He blushed. He was never that direct. He didn’t even raise his price to give himself room to negotiate down. Teddy knew that was the same price Emre gave to women, but surely it would make sense to charge more for a man. Emre had just forgotten, and now he was leaving money on the table. He couldn’t raise the price now. Oh well, that was enough to get caught up. Five hundred bucks would suffice. He cleared his throat again. “I mean… you know what I mean, right? You do the… You get me off. And pay me. I’ll, you know… treat you like a woman. In ways that you want. That you’ll enjoy.” Emre clammed up. He never got like this with women. Was this how women feel when he made them tongue-tied?
“Hush, you’re babbling,” Teddy said. “You want me to pay you to jack you off?” Emre nodded. Teddy’s mind raced. He had an instinctive desire to say no and tell Emre he’s an arrogant asshole, that Teddy didn’t want him that bad, that he’s not God’s gift to dicks. But Teddy could hardly pretend he didn’t want Emre, and he certainly wanted to do it. “Fine.” He cursed himself immediately because he thought he could have talked Emre down on the price — obviously, Emre was only doing this because he needed the money, so he must have some flexibility.
They both walked away annoyed with themselves for not negotiating more, but neither were willing to call it off for a minor monetary dispute.
And so that was how they ended up in the storage closet just after the bar officially closed. The last of the drinkers had only just left, and the door was locked. The waitresses hadn’t all gone home yet, and some of the tables had yet to be bussed.
Nevertheless, Teddy led Emre into the storage closet in the back, and nobody noticed them sneak in there. In that enclosed space, the reek of Emre’s exotic cologne — something Turkish, vaguely funky, sunny, zesty, like a stretewise lemon — assaulted Teddy’s nostrils and made his dick twitch in his pants. Emre’s solid frame seemed bigger in the dark, his muscles bulging through the fabric of his fancy clothes.
He dressed well, in a Moroccan-style suit. Teddy had never noticed how nice Emre’s clothes were. So few men dressed up these days…
Emre was used to seducing women, and in the dark, he simply did what he would do with a female. Teddy was rather feminine in both shape and mannerisms, so Emre thought he could pretend. He kissed Teddy right on the lips.
Teddy got lost in Emre’s warm arms, and he swooned. He kissed Emre back as his hands explored Emre’s broad chest and shoulders. Their tongues met in Teddy’s mouth.
“Aaaaah…” Emre let out a moan. It was forced, but he knew women were aroused by that sound, so he thought Teddy might be as well.
Teddy’s fumbling fingers undid the buttons of Emre’s shirt, and Emre shrugged off that Moroccan suit. His chest was bare, gleaming in the dim light, and his muscles were firm beneath Teddy’s touch. Teddy’s lips sucked a few droplets of fresh, sparkling sweat off Emre’s broad shoulders.
His kisses traveled down Emre’s body. Emre was glad to get some mouth on the one hand because he very rarely got to do that. When women paid you for sex, he thought, they didn’t want to suck dick. Emre preferred to make love in the womanhood anyway. He stood there, stately and elegant though Teddy couldn’t see him in the darkness, while Teddy kissed a trail down his body.
“Oh, yes, your lips feel so soft and sweet on me…” Emre gulped, hoping he sounded natural. This was the kind of thing he would say to a woman. Somehow it come across as stilted aimed at Teddy, but Teddy either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
It was nice how little effort Teddy required. Women required such constant affirmation, an endless dose of assurances and reassurances and comforting. Every time something was less than perfect, Emre had to apologize and make up for it. With Teddy, all that mattered was his body. It was a tool for Teddy’s pleasure, and it required so little from Emre.
Then Teddy undid Emre’s pants and pulled his dick out. It was big enough to be hefty but not so big as to be painful or intimidating. Teddy thought it was perfect. He kissed it right on the tip, then popped it in his mouth.
Emre moaned. He hoped nobody walked past the closet right now or they would definitely hear him. Normally he moaned in a fake, seductive way — he’d learned what turned most women on — but this time, he had no reason to be seductive. Teddy wanted him already, Emre didn’t need to work to make that happen, and he didn’t even especially want Teddy to like him too much. That would be awkward, and it meant the pleasure suffusing his flesh was more intense and visceral than he was used. His moan was genuine, and it surprised even Emre himself.
His dick stiffened up. Emre shifted his weight into his feet and leaned against the wall of the closet. Precum flowed down Teddy’s throat. Teddy guzzled it greedily, craving every drop. It tasted sweet and sunny, like the Mediterranean islands Emre claimed his ancestors came from (which was a lie, his family had worked in a goat slaughterhouse in urban Istanbul, not that Teddy knew that).
“Ah, man…” Emre sighed. He was surprised by how good this felt. He felt like a teenager again. He wasn’t used to feeling genuinely out-of-control pleasure, rather than carefully-meted out pleasure that he had designed to maximize his clients’s desire for a second go-round. Teddy’s mouth worked up and down on his cock, sending wave after wave of pleasure to rock Emre’s handsome frame.
This time, it was a real orgasm.
He grunted and shook as intense bliss ran through his body. It felt like a real mouth — it was, of course, it was just strange to feel it, no performance, no exaggeration, no seduction, just a real, genuine, authentic climax — and it made Emre’s knees weak. He held onto Teddy’s head for support as he sprayed his cum down his throat.
That was another thing the women who hired him never did: blowjobs. A lot of them just wanted to be eaten out, but even among that minority who wanted to suck his dick, not a single one had ever wanted him to cum in their mouths. So it was nice to shoot his wad directly into Teddy, focusing entirely on his own pleasure for once. His seed coated Teddy’s throat and sat hotly in his belly. Teddy swallowed every drop and begged for more when Emre finally pulled out. Remnants of jizz stuck to Teddy’s face. That was delightfully unclean, so unlike making love to a woman. It made Emre chuckle.
“You taste so good… Let me taste you some more, please?” Teddy crawled to him and thwacked Emre’s till-sensitive cock over his face. That made Emre jerk and twitch. He chased the shaft with his tongue, while a few final drops of cum dribbled from his cocktip. Avery chased those with his tongue too.
Emre grunted and pulled his pants up. He had to pull his cock away from Teddy. “Not now,” he said. “You got what you paid for.”
“And I got my money’s worth!” Teddy blushed and smirked, taking in the body heat emanating from Emre’s body. He stayed where he was though, in that closet, arms wrapped around Emre’s well-muscled body. He had a six-pack like Teddy had never seen on anyone besides movie stars and models before he met Emre. His muscles rippled beneath Teddy’s touch, until eventually he felt he had done enough for the money, and Emre extricated himself.
“Thank you,” Emre said as politely as he could muster. His hair was mussed up now. He’d have to fix it before he headed out there, just in case he found any more women before going home tonight. He hoped he did meet a woman, because the money Teddy gave him was burning a hole in his pocket.
After all, he could stop at the corner shop for a lottery ticket. Or more than one. Surely at least one would be a winner…

The Couchsurfer

Rob lets a studly young alpha sleep on his couch, as long as Rob gets to swing on his big black meat. Can Rob handle his tenant’s huge throbbing rent payment?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob Winthrop wanted to let Lamar sleep in, but it was tough to resist touching him. Lamar’s eighteen-year-old body gleamed, sprawled out on the couch he barely fit on. It was a big couch, but Lamar was tall, with limbs like catapaults. He was sound asleep. He hadn’t even been home that long, Lamar only returned from his friend’s party a few hours before sunrise.
He wore only boxers, and the sheet he had covered himself with had fallen onto the floor. Rob could catch a few tantalizing glimpses of his dick through the fly, through which a couple stray pubic hairs were visible.
Rob gently tweaked Lamar’s nipple to see if he would wake up. But he didn’t. He was passed-out cold. He pulled Lamar’s soft dick out from within the boxers he had passed out in. Even limp as cooked spaghetti, it was almost a foot long and meaty, even heavier than it looked. Rob thwacked it against his palm.
Still, Lamar didn’t wake up.
Lamar was just eighteen years old. He had come to Rob last month to say that he heard Rob paid money to jack off black guys with big dicks, in hopes of it making Rob’s dick bigger. Rob had explained that that wasn’t exactly true. Rob did appreciate men with superb physiques, but he was not especially into black men and did not believe doing it would make his own dick bigger. But Lamar didn’t believe him. He kept referring to Rob as a lover of big black cock.
Regardless, Rob had given him money then so he could get a tattoo.
That was the words THUG LIFE tattooed on Lamar’s bicep, in short block letters that ran all the way around his arm. While Lamar remained unconscious, Rob slurped some of his drunk-night-sweat off that tattooed bicep. Fully erect, his dick was more than a foot long and so thick Rob couldn’t circle his fingers around the whole shaft. As Lamar stayed unconscious, Rob grew bolder about groping his muscular body.
Then Lamar finally stirred and smiled like a cocky bastard after Rob rammed his fingers into Lamar’s pants and started stroking. His cock was sweaty and soft — spongy-soft, like he had fucked until he couldn’t anymore. That was probably exactly what happened at that party Lamar went to.
“Pretty big, huh?” Lamar asked with a groggy groan and chuckle. Now that he was awoke, his dick twitched in Rob’s grasp.
“Yeah.”
“You like this nigga dick, huh? Well you don’t get to swallow it, not for a li’l tat,” Lamar said. He kept telling Rob that over and over as Rob jacked him off — even though Rob hadn’t tried to put it in his mouth. “You want it so bad, I can tell. You got nigga-lover written on yo’ forehead, honky. You feel me? Huh? You feel my meat throbbin’ in yo’ fingers. That’s happenin’ fo’ you. That’s my present to you, man. Ain’t no way you get to swallow it though, nuh-uh.”
Then he gasped and shot his load in his pants. It coated Rob’s hand and trickled down his wrist. He wanted to lick it off, but Lamar stopped him.
“Nah. Go wipe yo’ hand, whiteman,” he said. He licked his lips and moaned. “I ain’t lettin’ you taste my nut. That’s nasty. Girls only.” He stood there and watched, thick trunk-like cockshaft swaying between his legs, as Rob looked forlornly at the tasty cum all over his hand but wiped it off with a paper towel. Lamar left then, climbing into some white girl’s car just seconds after tucking his dick back into his pants.
Rob had watched his ass through the shorts that were visible above his sagging jeans. Rob wanted more than anything to taste his dick and feel it inside him, but Lamar had said no. That was before he showed up on Rob’s doorstep a few days ago. He said he was running from the po-po, though he later also mentioned a fight with his stepdad. “You can swing on my dick,” Lamar said with a crude sneer. “But I ain’t touchin’ you. No way.”
“Okay,” Rob said with a shrug. He knew he could get something more when Lamar was drunk enough.
Now he wondered if it was time to get a taste of Lamar’s cock. He had let Lamar move in and sleep here for two days, and all Rob had gotten out of it was the sight of Lamar’s tight body and a few handjobs.
Anyway, Lamar went out clubbing with that white girl or maybe different white girls, then came home at dawn once more. Rob had already given Lamar money, enough that he could easily buy himself beer and pay the cover charge to get into some bar. Lamar had used up all the money though, paying for not just his beer but also his friends’s and of course fruity cocktails for girls with juicy asses.
When Lamar had returned to the house early yet again, with the sun peeking over the horizon, he had staggered in drunkenly. He’d plopped onto the couch and slept awhile before getting up to vomit. Then he managed to brush his teeth and drink a glass of water before returning to the couch.
And now here was Rob yet again, trying to stimulate his unconscious couchsurfing roommate to erection. He’d said it was fine if Lamar went out partying every night, but he didn’t think Lamar would actually find a party “fulla mad bitches” every single night.
At least tonight, Lamar’s cock had slipped out from the fly of his boxers, which made it easy for Rob to stroke it. It was like a dead snake in his hand, a long tube of dark muscle that was firm even in its soft state. Rob licked his lips as he flopped it between his fingers.
Lamar was still passed out cold. When it was clear he wouldn’t wake up, Rob bent over and licked Lamar’s cock from the root to the tip, which he then put in his mouth. He again looked up. Lamar didn’t awake, but he did move his head to the side.
That gave Rob an idea. He got his own dick out. His heart pounding, Rob put it on Lamar’s lips. Rob’s cocktip throbbed on Lamar’s mouth.
His handsome brown face was still calm and asleep, and the coarse hairs of his unshaved cheeks and chin rubbed against Rob’s shaft. Lamar wrinkled his nose in his sleep. Rob flopped his rapidly firming dick around on Lamar’s face, and he attempted at Lamar’s mouth but didn’t force it in, lest the sensation wake him up.
Lamar stirred. He moaned and wiggled his ass, but he didn’t wake up the rest of the way. He murmured and grumbled. Rob sensed him waking and took his dick away, just before Lamar let out a little gag.
Holding his breath, Rob waited to see if Lamar realized why he had gagged. He was definitely waking up now. But Lamar must have figured it was lingering drunkenness.
Rob leaned in and inhaled deeply of Lamar’s musk. He inserted his nose the best he could between Lamar’s tricep and his chest, and he sniffed the musk of his armpit. It was an intoxicating, heady aroma that made Rob moan.
He licked the tight muscle of Lamar’s pecs. They were not huge — he was no bodybuilder — but they were like taut balls of rock-hard flesh beneath soft skin, brimming with power and body heat. Rob lapped at the soft flesh, which rippled beneath his touch.
“Aw, damn, baby…” Lamar murmured. His eyes gradually blinked open. He kept wiggling, and his breathing hurried up as Rob caressed his shaft.
His dick twitched beneath Rob’s fingers. Rob gave it a stroke, and it started to get hard.
“Oh. Oh, damn,” Lamar murmured. He had obviously forgotten where he was and thought it was a woman on his dick until he opened his eyes fully. Now he was full of nervous gasps and sucking in his breath. He swayed as though the couch under him moved, too dizzy from drunken surprise to react. “Ew, nasty, man, shit…”
Rob’s tongue traveled down Lamar’s taut stomach. Now that he was awake, Lamar giggled like he was ticklish but trying to hide it the entire time Rob licked at his flesh. His muscles writhed beneath Rob’s tongue. Letting out a moist gurgling sound, Lamar wrapped his fingers around Rob’s head and pushed him towards Lamar’s crotch, but then Lamar let go — feeling Rob’s short haircut reminded Lamar he wasn’t with a girl. He covered his face with one forearm, while his other hand gently guided Rob to his crotch.
After a night of drinking, Lamar’s body was covered with a sheen of dried sweat. That was perfect for Rob, who loved the taste of his flesh. It was clean, slightly soapy, yet salty from sweat and tasting just a bit of cocoa butter.
“Yo, you gunna ssshwalluh my nut?” Lamar’s voice was weak, though he tried to sound tough. He was too nervous to stop laughing though, and he could only cover that up by flexing his muscles and growling intermittently. He couldn’t stop writhing to the sensation of Rob’s tongue traveling over his body.
“Yes,” Rob said. “I am.” He kissed the tip of Lamar’s dick, which throbbed and twitched like it was begging him to swallow it. “Tell me about last night. Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” Lamar said. His forearm was still over his eyes so he didn’t accidentally see who was on his cock. A drunken burp escaped from his mouth, and he scrunched his eyes shut even though his gaze was blocked by his forearm. Now that he was fully awake and had taken a deep breath, his throbbing erection helped bring him down from the drunken dizzies, and he could speak clearly if he concentrated on his words and not the throbbing of his cock in Rob’s mouth. “It was cool. My nigga got this bitch to give up the booty, man. We ran a train on her in the bathroom of the club. Nasty-ass bitch.”
“Oh? You fucked her there in the bathroom?” Rob pulled off Lamar’s dick just long enough to ask his question, and then he thwacked Lamar’s erection all over his face like a billyclub.
Lamar nodded like a cocky bastard and ran his tongue between his lips and his teeth. “Yeah. She was on her knees on that piss-stained floor, like a fuckin’ slut. I had sloppy seconds — or like sloppy fifths, I think, fifths in her pussy anyway — and it was all drippin’ out. Made me gag and shit.”
“Why’d you do it?” Rob asked as his tongue slathered spit over Lamar’s ribs while his hand flopped Lamar’s cock around. He part lost his erction every time Rob let it go for a few seconds, which Rob enjoyed because he liked playing with a half-hard cock. Lamar was desperately horny, that much was obvious from the way he gasped every few seconds as he talked, and his hips kept bucking like he was fucking the air. Rob stroked his dick, which was just meaty enough to feel solid as Rob thwacked it against Lamar’s flesh and his own face.
“What?”
“Why’d you do it if you had to take sloppy-fifths?”
There was a long silence. “That a trick question? It was pussy, man. She gave it up,” he said.
“Oh, I thought it sounded gross.”
“It was gross.”
“I guess I just don’t get it,” Rob asked. He spat loudly, covering Lamar’s dick with his saliva, which made Lamar groan. Rob licked all that spit up. “Did you joust with your buddies?”
“Joust? Oh, you mean, like touch dicks in her mouth and shit? Yeah, me and my nigga Killer always do that shit. He was the fourth, you know, he was the one who shot his load right before me-” He paused. “Wait, I gotta do somethin’.” He reached down for the pants he had thrown down onto the ground. He pulled out his cell phone.
“Is something wrong?”
“I gotta tell Killer somethin’, you can keep strokin’ my dick. You gonna swallow my nut or what?” He said as he dialed.
“I just like to play with it first. It’s so big,” Rob said smiling at how Lamar proudly bristled and arched his back. Rob stuck out his tongue and licked Lamar’s dick from root to tip, very slowly, slathering spit the entire way.
That made Lamar moan uncontrollably, and his cock rocketed to full erection. Killer, on the other side of the line, laughed — he must have heard the moan as soon as he answered the phone. Rob couldn’t hear Killer’s words though, just his laughter.
“Thought you should know my dick is like three shades lighter,” Lamar said. He chuckled at Killer. “Yeah, yo’ nut stained my shit, Killer! I know it was yo’s — nah, you know that nigga ain’t got — oh — Fuck dat shit, nigga!” Lamar went on, laughing and carrying on, but he and Killer talked over each other so much that Rob couldn’t follow the conversation. He gathered that Lamar and Killer had made an inside joke last night, something to do with all the cum sticking to Lamar’s cock after he had sloppy fifths and staining it until it was a lighter shade.
Rob kept on stroking it though. He wanted Lamar desperate to blow his nut.
“Yeah, nigga. Okay. Peace, one love,” Lamar said and hung up the phone. He glared at Rob and tried to sit up, but Rob chose that moment to put the tip of his cock in Rob’s mouth. He suckled on the piss-slit and slathered a huge wad of saliva that dripped down the shaft. A wave of pleasure hit Lamar, who moaned and leaned back, laying down again on the couch, the same position he had been asleep in just a few minutes ago. “Yo, honky, you just playin’ wit’ it. I’m lettin’ you swing on that shit, you best handle it proper. Don’t you blueball me.”
“I’d never do that,” Rob said. “You want me to swallow it now?”
Every fiber of Lamar’s being told him to say yes. He writhed on the couch, cock throbbing in Rob’s hand. But still, Lamar didn’t. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“If you want, I ain’t into that nasty-nasty, and I got females all over,” Lamar said, even as he gasped and writhed beneath Rob’s touch. “I, uh… I mean… I’m just doin’ this for a couch to crash on. If’n you okay wit’ just swallowin’ a nut, I ain’t tryin’-a, y’know, do nothin’ wit’ you, I ain’t swallowin’ nothin’.”
“I would never make you swallow anything,” Rob said. He kept stroking Lamar’s shaft, but he kept his rhythm slow and inconsistent so Lamar’s body cried out for a warm, wet mouth.
Lamar murmured. “You best pay me,” he said. He laughed at himself, and at Rob, as he covered his face with a pillow to avoid seeing Rob’s masculine features.
“You want money?” Rob said. “How about I let you borrow my car? Is that okay?” Rob could afford plenty of money, but he had a feeling admitting that to Lamar would end up poorly for him. So he was pretending to be poorer than he was.
“Borrow your car, like anytime?”
“As long as you live here,” Rob said. “And let me keep playing with your dick.”
“Fine, fine,” Lamar said. “Okay. Just get me off…” His voice was muffled because of the pillow over his face.
Rob put the tip back in his mouth again, and he suckled on it loudly. Lamar moaned and his back arched. He nearly leapt off the couch. Then Rob removed his mouth and giggled. “You want me to swallow or spit?”
“Swallow, swallow, man, come on, just do it,” Lamar said, his attempt to show reluctance now forgotten. He roared in frustration and bit the pillow in front of his face. His youthful muscles cringed, and his dick reached up into the air, searching instinctively for a hole to penetrate. “C’mon, man, I gotta blow my load-“
Rob mounted Lamar the best he could as he laid on the couch, so that Rob’s dick and Lamar’s met. Lamar looked away and groaned, while Rob began frotting both cocks together.
“Let’s cum together,” Rob said.
A loud sucking sound came from Lamar’s mouth. He’d jousted with his niggas before in a bitch’s mouth, but he’d never frotted before. He looked at his massive cock rubbing against Rob’s, which was smaller but not small enough that Lamar could really make fun of him for it. Lamar looked away. “C’mon, man, nah, nah-” He grunted.
“Your dick is so big…” Rob said with a smile.
“I know but — I know but — I-” Lamar didn’t want to ruin a good thing by refusing or hitting Rob, though his hand formed a fist like he might do it out of instinct. Really Lamar wouldn’t have minded frotting — it was gross, but for a place to sleep, he could live with it — as long as he could guarantee Rob wouldn’t cum on his face or go any farther than this. And Lamar wished he could sober up and eat something first.
“Sorry, sorry, can’t help it…” Rob said, his voice warbling and breaking, as he shot his load. Pleasure wracked Rob’s body, and a jet of jizz spurted out. It plopped onto Lamar’s dick and into his crotch hair, but then Rob aimed it up to his six-pack and beyond.
Lamar groaned in disgust, and cum sprayed over his powerful brown chest. It made his tattoos gleam as his muscles flexed. Pleasure shuddered through Rob’s body, making him shimmy and shake, and his cock pulsated where it rubbed on Lamar’s own dick.
“I won’t cum on your face,” Rob said, but even as he said that Rob leaned back and moaned again, and his last spray of cum got as far as Lamar’s chin.
“Ew, man, shit…” Lamar let out a nervous chuckle as he wiped his chin off. He faced away from Rob, so he didn’t get more cum on his face and didn’t have to watch his cock frot with Rob’s. “You gonna swallow my load, right?”
Rob did so without another word. He jammed his own head into Lamar’s crotch, swallowing as much of that massive shaft as he could get in his throat. Rob gagged and choked, but kept going until he had nearly every inch. He tasted Lamar’s machismo in the precum trickling down his throat, its salty flavor and creamy thickness overwhelming his senses.
“Aaaaaaaaah….” Lamar moaned like he was finally scratching an itch he had been trying to reach for a long time.
Then Lamar grabbed Rob’s head to plow down on his throat. Rob loved that, and Lamar normally did too, but as soon as he did, Lamar knew it was a bad idea. That’s because Rob had very short hair, and when Lamar touched it, he was reminded of the man on his dick.
Lamar groaned with disappointment. His dick didn’t get any softer, but it did slow down. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, since Rob thought he could still take this farther. But for now, Rob thought, Lamar was disappointed that Rob wasn’t a girl.
“Damn, man, I can’t forget you ain’t a bitch,” Lamar said. “Hang on, lemme call this fat chick.” He dialed another number on his phone. “Yo. Hey, baby. Nah, I can’t tonight. I got, uh, y’know, a meetin’ to go to.” The plump girl on the other end was Miranda, and Lamar made sure to emphasize meeting in a way that suggested it was some sort of gang activity. Miranda was a rotund white girl who loved bad boys, so she giggled at the thought of Lamar at a gang meeting. Her voice made Lamar grunt, and another few drops of precum coated Rob’s tongue. Lamar removed the pillow from his face.
Rob moved down to slurp on Lamar’s balls. He put them both in his mouth and gargled loudly, making Lamar laugh into the phone even as he talked to his booty call.
“I know it’s early, baby. I just wanted to hear yo’ voice. I been, y’know, I been in trouble and shit,” Lamar said. His voice kept trailing off, distracted by the feelings of pleasure arising from his sensitive balls in Rob’s mouth. Lamar’s voice cracked. “Yeah, baby. I’m in jail. Uh-huh. I be out soon. My lawyer is comin’ to bail me out. Uh-huh. Can you talk me off? I’m jackin’ it right now.” He paused and laughed. “Yeah, there’s some whiteboy here cryin’. I think he okay, he just glad I ain’t gonna beat his ass.” He paused and affected a charming smile. “Yeah, I’s talkin’ ’bout you, whiteboy. If there wasn’t a phone in here, I’d be beatin’ you to shreds just to pass the time.”
As Lamar talked, showing off to his female friend, Rob continued slurping on his balls. Then he moved back up to the shaft. His tongue traced the pulsating veins all the way from root to tip.
“Yeah, you gonna give up the booty, right? Maybe I skip that meeting tonight, after I get bailed out. Maybe I come over. Uh-huh. You gonna let me tap that ass, right? No condom. Uh-huh. I wanna taste yo’ titties, girl,” he said. He groaned. “Maybe I titty-fuck you for a bit. You know I love thick-ass bitches and I am — no, wait! Baby! Baby!” He screamed into the phone, which he then threw onto the ground. “Fuck you! Fuckin’ hell!” He roared and slapped his own thighs. His dick throbbed in Rob’s mouth. “Fuck!”
Rob pulled off his dick. “What happened?”
“I called her a thick-ass bitch,” Lamar said. “I sorta forgot she was white and she gonna take that as an insult. Ain’t no insult!”
“Oh, that’s too bad, baby…” Rob thwacked Lamar’s erection against his face.
“She ain’t even listen to me explain. I was in jail, y’know, I prolly heard all kind of bad words. I just forgot to moderate myself, y’know,” he said. He groaned as he started to grind his hips, shoving his dick back into Rob’s mouth.
Rob pulled away, gently stroking Lamar’s dick even as Lamar flexed his hips, trying to get his knob wet again. Rob said, “You’re not in jail.”
“Yeah, but she thought I was!” Lamar said. He squirmed, his body overly energetic from both horniness and anger. “Ain’t fair. You can’t hang up on a nigga who call you from jail, just cuz he use some bad words. It’s fuckin’ jail!”
“Sure, sure,” Rob said. He licked Lamar’s dick from root to tip. Once again, Lamar grabbed his head and tried to force it back into position to swallow his whole shaft. Rob resisted. Lamar didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that he was trying to force his dick into Rob’s mouth, he just kept talking about how angry he was at the girl and his cock and his hands worked on autopilot.
Rob enjoyed teasing him. Every few seconds, he’d let Lamar ram his dick down his throat. Lamar would moan and let go of Rob’s head. Then Rob would pull off and Lamar would swear some more before doing it again.
“That fuckin’ bitch, she don’t know jack shit! She think she my girlfriend, she think I just fuck other females cuz my niggas expect it. That’s what I tell her. She dumb as shit. She dumb as her own fat ass.”
“Are you gonna go back to her and apologize?”
Lamar thought for a moment. “Yeah. I prolly will. Not fo’ awhile. Give it a month or two, and I’ll go over there in the night, tell her I been in lockup and I need a woman’s touch. I be back in her asshole right quick, I tell you that!” His anger was gone now. He laid back and let Rob lick his cockshaft.
“Speaking of assholes…” Rob said.
“You want me to stick you?”
Rob nodded.
He sighed dramatically, and recovered his face with his forearm. “You gotta buy me somethin’. There’s a gold chain wit’ a platinum crucifix on it. Got rubies and some shit. Fair-trade mined in Kenya,” he said. “You gotta buy me that.” He paused. “And Netflix, man. Why ain’t you got Netflix?”
Rob laughed. “I just don’t watch a lot of TV. I’ll get Netflix, I’ll buy you that chain, no problem.”
“You ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me, is you?”
“I swear,” Rob said. “You gotta do something else for me too though.”
“What’s that? I ain’t touchin’ yo’ dick, whiteman. Don’t even try and ask me fo’ a reacharound.” He groaned and slapped his dick over Rob’s face.
“No, not that. Call my dad.”
“What?”
“Call my dad and tell him what’s going on,” Rob said. He explained about how much he hated his father and how he loved humiliating him.
Lamar looked dubious at first, but then he smiled. He and his friends often made fun of this crackhead named Greenbelly, and Lamar did a spot-on impression of him. He was so excited to use that impression that he wasn’t even nervous as Rob’s ass slid onto his cock.
It was only as he dialed that Lamar realized he could feel Rob’s short ass-hairs on his dick. With wide eyes, Lamar watched Rob slide up and down. The feeling was disgusting — faint, but still, Lamar could feel it too strongly to pretend he was with a woman. He turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to see it.
“Hello?”
“Yo, you got a son who a real bitch? I got my dick in his ass, and he keep squirmin’. What’s up wit’ dat, honky? Huh? I’m tryin’-a smoke some crack while I dip my dick in ‘im, and he don’t sit still.”
Rob was distracted by the pain and pleasure in his ass, but he still laughed. Lamar’s crackhead-impression was great, with a frantic, clipped tone like he was really angry Rob was interfering with his crack-smoking. Rob’s father didn’t say anything on the other line, but his scoffing and his annoyed breathing were audible.
“Huh? You gonna make him sit still? Gonna burn yo’ boy wit’ dis crack pipe. He pay me eight dollar, honky, and I tells him dat, fo’ eight dollar, you get my dick and you get my hepatitises and you get my Lucy on yo’ back — I calls my crack pipe Lucy — she say I gotta smoke her e’ry day. What? What do you call yo’ crack pipe? Oh, you don’t name it? It ain’t gonna know it’s special if you don’t-” Lamar paused. “Oh, he hung up.”
“You’re really good at that,” Rob said as his prostate exploded with pressure and intense pleasure. Lamar’s cock throbbed in his ass.
“Yeah, that’s my Greenbelly impression. He this crackhead I know back in the projects, always sellin’ wifebeaters and shit,” he said. He snorted and sat up. Rob was sitting on Lamar’s crotch, so Lamar had to struggle to rearrange himself. “Gonna blow a nut in ya. Then I gotta take yo’ car and go visit my parole officer. You buy Netflix and make sure you got a credit card you can charge two grand on. When I get back, we goin’ to the mall so you can buy me that chain.”
“Okay,” Rob said, wincing as he moved with Lamar’s thirteen-inch cock inside him.
Lamar swayed as he got up on his feet — he hadn’t stood since last night — but he regained his balance quickly. He took a deep breath and slammed his dick in and out hard.
It was an intensely awkward position. Lamar alternated between trying to pretend he was a hardcore thug who knew how to treat a man like a prison bitch, and pretending he was so utterly macho he was disgusted by what he was doing. In reality, the truth was in between — he wasn’t disgusted, really, just awkward and glad his friends weren’t here to see.
Lamar forcefully pushed Rob’s face to the floor, while he lifted Rob’s hips. It was an awkward position for Rob, who took Lamar’s dick with such force he had trouble keeping his feet on the ground, meaning a large portion of his weight was supported by his own head.
Now that he was in position, Lamar drilled his cock in deep. He bellowed and pounded on his chest while he used all his weight to slam his dick in deeply. He chuckled and looked around as though waiting for his niggas to laugh with him, but of course they weren’t here.
Then he grabbed Rob’s hips and gyrated his crotch. He slammed his dick in a few times before he realized he was touching Rob’s mannish body. He let go and pounded freestyle for a couple seconds.
“Damn…” He grabbed Rob’s hips again to steady him, but then dropped him again. Every time Lamar felt Rob’s male body-hair, it reminded him he wasn’t with a woman, so he let go.
He felt like that slowed him down, like every time it happened he got farther from his orgasm. But that wasn’t really true. Lamar was too young for much of anything to slow him down — it just slowed down his mind.
So he was still thinking that he had to struggle to cum when an orgasm hit him suddenly. He grunted and yelped, embarrassed at his own animated reaction — he had thought he’d barely be able to do it at all, but he actually shot one of the biggest loads of his life.
His tight young muscles all flexed at once, and he groaned. Rob moaned in harmony with him, which made Lamar nervous because he could hear the masculine twinge to Rob’s voice. Pleasure ran up Lamar’s spine, so intense it made Lamar shudder and shake.
A torrent of cum flooded Rob’s ass. It came in thick waves, great gobs of cum flowing into him. Lamar groaned as he spewed more and more, laughing at himself and at Rob — was this a normal amount? He thought he might just be surprised because he was with a man, and it wasn’t really a normal sensation for him.
The cum just kept on coming, and it filled up Rob’s hole. It dripped out the sides of his ass, coating Lamar’s cock and dripping in gobs onto the floor.
Just when Lamar thought he was done, Rob shuddered. That caused a couple things to happen all at once. First, an intense orgasmic aftershock hit Lamar. Second, the motion made a great clump of cum plop out and into Lamar’s hairy crotch. Third, the sight of that happening made Lamar gag. So all at once, Lamar both experienced a second mini-climax and was overcome with such physical disgust that he retched.
And all that combined to make him laugh. Lamar always laughed at things that made him uncomfortable. He gingerly removed his rapidly limpening cock, and the sight of it covered in pearly white cum made him gag again.
“Yo, I gotta get a picture fo’ Killer,” Lamar said, his discomfort totally gone now. He grabbed his phone and snapped a photo of his cock, which was white with the semen that still soaked into it. He sent the photo to Killer with the caption, ‘this is what I looked like after sloppy-fifths. That’s yo’ nasty all over my dick, nigga’.
He stood up and ignored Rob, who laid there with his ass in the air, exulting in his own post-orgasmic pleasure. Lamar wandered off towards the bathroom, watching his gigantic dick throb and shake as it limpened.
“Gonna take a shower, honky,” Lamar said. “Don’t forget to buy Netflix.”
“Okay,” Rob said, his voice weak and breathless.
Lamar sauntered into the shower, already dialing his parole officer to make excuses for being late. He wasn’t late yet, but Lamar assumed he probably would be.
Besides, he thought as he stepped into the shower, there was a black slut who lived near the parole office. He could stop by and see her beforehand, get his dick wet in a real pussy and probably smoke a blunt. She usually had weed.
‘Oh, that reminds me! I should’ve asked for that!’ Lamar poked his head out the bathroom door, just before he stepped in the shower. “Yo, honky, leave some money on the counter for me. Like eighty bucks. I wanna buy some weed too.”
“Okay!” Rob said. He smiled as he put the cash out for Lamar and fired up his long-canceled Netflix account.

The Foreman

When Rob meets factory foreman Ezra McCormick, he didn’t know he was in for a ride on his massive, muscular meat! Can Rob accept Ezra’s hot, throbbing authority?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob’s eyes opened wide when he saw Ezra McClintock. He wasn’t expecting someone like that. He knew it was silly when he walked into the factory — he had the assumption in his head that a factory that made specialty graphing calculators was probably full of bespectacled nerds with pens leaking over their pocket protectors, their whiny singsong voices drowned out by the whirr of the machinery.
But that wasn’t the case. Just because it was used by nerds didn’t mean it was manufactured by them.
Mr. McClintock was statuesque and powerfully built, that was why Rob was shocked — also he had arranged this meeting through email with a woman named “Kendra”, so he was predisposed to picture a bunch of nerds and women. But that wasn’t Ezra McClintock. Kendra was just an office manager. Mr. McClintock was a rough-edged black man in his mid to late forties, with big burly shoulders and a broad barrel chest. His hair was jet-black and trimmed neatly — it was so black that Rob suspected it was dyed, since Ezra seemed old enough he ought to have a few gray hairs.
His most attractive feature, however, was not the way he barely fit in his workshirt and dickeys, it was his mustache.
Nobody wore mustaches like that these days. It was a glorious mustache, 1970s-style, making Mr. McClintock a man out of time, Rob thought, phenomenally huge and bristly, like he had a push-broom on his upper lip. It trembled as he shook Rob’s hand.
“What can I do for you? We got some older types around, but I dunno how they can help ya,” Mr. McClintock said. He led Rob into his office but then he sat on the edge of his desk. “We don’t advertise in magazines.”
Rob was momentarily flummoxed. Mr. McClintock sat on the edge of the desk, with one foot resting on the chair at the other side of the desk — meaning there was nowhere for Rob to sit. If Rob weren’t distracted by the massive bulge in Mr. McClintock’s workpants, he would have realized that he chose this position to block the chair and get Rob to leave more quickly.
That bulge was huge. His cock was at least a foot long and it looked as thick as a beer can. Maybe that isn’t his dick, maybe he had something in his pocket, Rob thought.
“Oh, uh… I’m not selling advertising,” Rob said. He blushed, his voice wavering because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the cock-bulge in Mr. McClintock’s workpants. They were thick, canvas-like pants, stained with bleach near the ankle and a big grass stain on the left ass and thigh, like he had been wearing them when he slid into home during a baseball game.
He kind of looks like a baseball player, Rob thought. He was too thickly built for basketball, and probably not swift enough for football, even back when he was younger. He had a heavy, plodding way of moving and talking; he was solid, all heft and mass, shifting his weight as though he found his own muscles tiresome. He chewed on his lower lip.
Rob cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry, I, uh… I didn’t say I was selling ad space. Our magazine is aimed at older readers, and uh…” He blinked his eyes a few times, his purpose here today vanishing from his mind. He blushed. “Uh… An article on factories! We’re doing an article on older people who work in factories, and we wanted to find some workers to interview.”
Mr. McClintock grunted. “How old is older?”
“Sixty-five.”
“We got one, he ain’t gonna be yo’ type though, mistuh,” Mr. McClintock said. When he spoke his mustache worked up and down like an excited bat, even as his face and his voice remained flat. “He a good worker, but… He don’t even work on the factory floor, he’s in the mailroom.”
“Oh, well, still…”
“He got Down’s Syndrome.”
“What?”
“He got Down’s Syndrome. He disabled as shit, man,” Mr. McClintock said. “He livin’ in a care home and e’rything. You wanna interview him? You go ahead. I dunno if he got anything to say that might be relevant to yo’ readers. He do talk though, he ain’t one them non-verbals, he talks, he do.”
“Oh… I mean…” Rob tried to be diplomatic. “I’m sure, uh… his experiences are… Uh… full of useful-“
“You don’t gotta be politically correct.”
Rob smiled awkwardly. “I don’t want to interview him. That won’t be… maybe sometime in the future, we are planning a disabilities issue.”
“Well, sorry, man, he the only over-65 we got workin’ here,” Mr. McClintock said. He sniffled like that was the end of the conversation, and he expected Rob to leave. He picked up a stack of papers off his desk. He rifled through them before looking up at Rob once more.
Rob’s mind whirred. That mustache was amazing, he thought, and he would give anything to see that fat cock sliding into his own mouth. He wanted him so bad he could already taste it.
But how to tantalize him? Rob often offered guys money for a chance to swing on their meat, but Mr. McClintock was already a foreman at a large factory — he probably wasn’t in need of cash, and he might be offended at the suggestion that he was.
“You need somethin’ else, man? I gotta get back to work. Can’t be hangin’ out wit’ some journalist all day,” he said with a throaty chuckle and a sigh.
“Oh, I’m not a journalist,” Rob said. “I own the magazine. We only have three employees so far, and I’m doing a lot of the research and-“
“You own the magazine?” He lowered his eyes. “You rich?”
“Well… I have a lot of money tied up in assets,” Rob said. He laughed a little nervously. “Most of those lose money though. Like the magazine is notionally worth a half-million, but if I tried to sell it today I’d be lucky to get fifty grand. It’s technically cash-flow positive, but, uh… It’s complicated. Anyway, I-“
“Uh-huh. So you lookin’ for new business opportunities?”
“Always,” Rob said. “But I have a business manager I have to justify things to. Don’t expect me to, you know-“
He waved Rob away. “I gots an opportunity for you. You gonna have to seize it real quick. You wanna sell some graphing calculators?”
“What? That’s not a market I’m in…”
“Well, man, I gots an idea. I was tellin’ my boss ’bout this, but he weren’t… he wasn’t open to new ideas at the time,” he said with a knowing frown. “When we get supplies, like the computer chips and the plastic cases and all that, we always get a couple extra in case some got damaged. We can make them into actual calculators. The only thing we don’t got is the batteries — we buys ’em from Duracell in bulk and put ’em in the package with the calculator, but Duracell don’t give extras. Mr. Bossman don’t wanna make a separate product line that’s the same thing ‘cept without the batteries pre-installed, ya dig?”
“Right…”
“But we already gots ’em, and the supplies don’t cost nothin’. We could churn out another five-hundred calculators a month at no extra cost beyond a few bucks in overtime pay,” he said. “You feel me? You gettin’ where I’m goin’?”
“Not exactly…”
“Well, man, we can make them calculators and sell ’em to you. No batteries, no logo. You buy ’em for us at twenty bucks each, you can sell ’em to college brats like my idiot stepson for two hundred bucks each.”
“Is that… legal?”
“Ain’t breakin’ no criminal law, nosir,” Mr. McClintock said. “This is our property, and we’s allowed to sell it. My contract with the company don’t really allow for that, but it ain’t a crime. Worse they can do is find a new factory, but we the only factory in North America that makes graphing calculators. They ain’t gonna wanna build a new one, cuz this is a dyin’ industry anyway. So they gonna look the other way, if they ever find out — they prolly won’t cuz no one gonna know. You could put ‘Made in Vietnam’ on the package, ain’t no one ever gonna think to check.” He paused. “That part is illegal, that’s on you, if you wanna mark the packagin’ incorrectly, I ain’t gonna make my boys do that.”
“Hmmm…” Rob tried to think. The math certainly worked out. This would be a good profit-making opportunity, if only he could get away with it. But there was also a chance he was being scammed, he thought. Maybe Mr. McClintock was trying to offload a couple hundred calculators that didn’t work.
“Maybe I could sweeten the pot,” Mr. McClintock said when Rob hesitated. He pointed to the chair, on which his foot still rested — Mr. McClintock sat on the edge of the desk, so when Rob sat there, he faced Mr. McClintock’s crotch.
Mr. McClintock rolled his eyes. He was annoyed with how much some men appreciated his physique. It was kind of funny, he thought, when he was young, he didn’t mind getting jerked off because he was horny and they were easy and he could do it without going out on dates or sweet-talking a female. But some men swished in his direction all the time — they liked older men. The older Mr. McClintock got, the more he noticed men checking him out, blatantly staring at him, fat slobby perverts blushing as they begged for his dick — he always said no — while the kind of pretty girl who used to go crazy for his muscles became more and more turned off by him. Nowadays most young women thought he was creepy, not sexy. Girls are prudes these days.
Though it was annoying, Mr. McClintock didn’t mind letting men jerk him off. He always made a big deal out of it because most of them would pay if they thought he was reluctant, and because if he seemed too eager, they’d want to do more than just handle his dick. Mr. McClintock had given handjobs before, and he didn’t like to think about that. If he wasn’t desperate for cash, he wan’t going to do it again.
But to offload these useless calculator parts? And to make a profit off it that he could keep for himself? He’d gladly let Rob jerk him off every month when he picked up the calculators, and hell, he thought, he’d kiss Rob for that.
“I’d like to make this happen, man,” Mr. McClintock said. He looked up and unzipped his workpants. He let his dick flop out. He sensed Rob’s eyes opening wide. He crossed his arms over his chest, which made a few hairs visible over the upper edge of his shirt — there, Rob noticed, were the gray hairs he suspected Mr. McClintock dyed off his head and his beard.
Rob’s heart fluttered. That dick was just as big as he had thought, the bulge wasn’t an optical illusion at all. It was like a massive brown cucumber, he thought, no, bigger than any cucumber, but firm like one even though it wasn’t hard. Rob touched it gingerly to see how Mr. McClintock reacted, but he just grunted and ignored Rob.
One of his fingers ran up and down the shaft, tracing a bluish vein barely visible against the deep brown of his skin. He had a lot of dickskin too, Rob thought with a suppressed laugh as he wrapped his hand around it, it was still limp and that skin moved along with his strokes. It put out a palpable wave of heat, and it pulsated in Rob’s grip. He leaned in and smelled it.
The scent was musky, zesty, spicy, glorious. Rob took a huge deep sniff of it, then blushed because Mr. McClintock looked at him like a loathsome slug. Rob kept both of his hands on the shaft though, and he kept stroking it slowly, not trying to get it hard, just sort of petting it.
This dick might be more than a foot long, Rob thought, it might well be the biggest dick I’ve ever touched. He blushed and said, “it’s so big…”
Mr. McClintock sniffled. “Won’t get hard if you just play wit’ it. You gotta swallow it.” He stood up straighter. “And you gotta get deep on it too, get it real nice and wet. Go deep on it.”
Rob nodded. He didn’t want to go too fast though. He slapped himself with Mr. McClintock’s dick, which was so thick and heavy it really almost hurt to be hit with it, like it was a warclub. He stuck his tongue out and chased it, getting a few tastes of his funky, cocoa butter-scented dick but not actually tasting it yet.
“Hmm-hmm, see you just playin’ wit it,” Mr. McClintock said. “I got no time for you to play around, man. Just do it it if you gonna do it.” His mustache twitched.
“It’s gigantic, I wanna play with it some, okay?” Rob said. He put the tip in his mouth, playing with the loose skin there, while Mr. McClintock rolled his eyes. “You’re all business, Mr. McClintock. Relax-“
“No.” He grunted. He leaned back and took his dick away from Rob. “I got work to do. If you ain’t serious-“
“Fine, fine, I’ll do it,” Rob said. He tried to grab Mr. McClintock’s dick from him, but he slapped Rob’s hand away.
“Fo’ real?” He shook his head and stroked his chin. “Goddamn, wussy-ass sissies always play fuckin’ games… can’t just do what they want, y’know.” He forced Rob’s jaw apart and slid the tip of his dick in there. “Unless you can really deep-throat the shit outta me, there ain’t much point. Lemme just jack off on ya tongue.”
“That’s not as hot-” Rob said, his voice muffled and cut off by Mr. McClintock’s dick slipping into his mouth. He struggled to take it because it was so thick. He had to stretch his mouth. He tried to say, “will you ram me in the ass?” But his mouth was full, so all that came out was a confused jumble of sounds.
“Hmmm-hmm… If you do this, I’ll let you get a nut outta me off e’ry time you come pick up the calculators, okay? It’s gotta be you, I don’t wanna deal wit’ delivery guys or whatevuh,” Mr. McClintock said. He kept one callused hand on Rob’s head, trying to ram Rob’s throat though his dick remained only partially hard. It coiled like a big black rope all over Rob’s face. “You can jerk me off then e’ry time, okay? No anal. I’ll let you play wit’ it a bit, and you can touch my muscles. But just for a few minutes, okay? I ain’t yo’ boyfriend.”
“No anal…? Come on…” Rob said with a winsome smile. “Can I tell you a secret? I’m a great deep-throater. I can swallow your entire dick and beg for more, and I’ll choke down every drop of your cum like no woman ever has-“
“Yeah, right.” He chuckled, ropy dick twitching where it rubbed over Rob’s face. “You can’t even swallow half of it. I shoot big loads, man.”
“If I get the whole thing in there, or enough anyway that my nose hits your pubic hair,” Rob said. “Will you kiss me when we’re done?”
“You want me to kiss you?”
Rob nodded and blushed. “I’ll swallow first, it won’t taste like cum.”
“Ya lips’ll still taste like cum,” Mr. McClintock said. He sighed and flared his nostrils. “Fine, whatever, you won’t be able to do it anyway. If you can’t, if you fail, you gotta lemme just jack off in your mouth real quick, cuz you ain’t gonna get me hard any other way.”
Rob nodded. “Deal.” He opened his mouth as wide as he could and let Mr. McClintock flex his hips, forcing his dick down Rob’s throat. Rob relaxed himself as much as he could, even as he felt suffocated and his lungs cried out for oxygen.
He really was a very good deep-throater. He had been playing around — Mr. McClintock was right about that — but when he loosened up his jaw, he was able to slide inch after inch of rapidly hardening black meat down his throat. Mr. McClintock looked at him directly for the first time since this began, watching his dick fill Rob’s throat.
“Goddamn, whiteboy,” he said. He let out a whistle. He was about to add more, but then a wave of pleasure hit him and his dick finally got hard. It was quick once it got started. Before Rob knew it, he had to lift his head because Mr. McClintock’s dick was as straight and immovable as a crowbar. His heart sped up, and Mr. McClintock groaned at the realization he had lost that bet. He wished if he was going to kiss Rob that it would be before the dome, not after.
He couldn’t deny it that he had done it before though — not with a man, but when he was growing up in Chicago, kissing a girl after she sucked you off was a sort of a rite of passage. It was disgusting but it was dirty and sexy and raunchy and a lot of guys bragged that they did it — they bragged both that they did it and that they thought it was gross, so it was a fine line to hew. You had to do it willingly while being unwilling to do it.
A grunt escaped from his clenched lips. He frowned and tried to pretend he wasn’t as impressed as he was — he didn’t want to give Rob the wrong impression. His dick throbbed in Rob’s throat, which clenched around it. Rob gripped Mr. McClintock’s asscheeks through those thick workpants, clutching them to hold on as his lungs cried out for air.
Mr. McClintock pulled his balls out through the fly of his workpants — which he realized now he had been wearing the last few times he let a man get a nut outta him as well. They must reek of his cum, he thought.
His balls slapped against Rob’s chin. Rob was dizzy from lack of oxygen, but he refused to pull off until he absolutely couldn’t take it. Then he gasped for air and held his mouth open so Mr. McClintock could see how good he did it, how open his throat was and how his mouth was coated in Mr. McClintock’s precum.
Then he went back to stroking, to deep-throating that massive shaft, while stroking his balls with one hand to bring him to orgasm. Rob throated that shaft until his nose pressed against Mr. McClintock’s fleshy crotch, nuzzling his pubic hair and rubbing his chin against his ballsac.
At last he felt those balls rising up in the sac, and Rob gagged uncontrollably. Mr. McClintock’s dick throbbed as though it was coming alive. Mr. McClintock had been rather absent for most of this dome, letting Rob do the whole thing, but now as an orgasm shuddered through him, he grabbed Rob’s head and held on tight.
“Oh fuck yeah, boy…”
Cum flew down Rob’s throat, right into his belly. Mr. McClintock’s shaft was so deep in him that Rob didn’t even taste it right away. He felt it flowing hotly into him, but it didn’t touch his tongue. He sensed it in the pulsations fo Mr. McClintock’s cock on his tongue and the rising up of his balls as he prepared to bust one of his fat wads.
It was hot and creamy, and it seeped into Rob’s flesh like nothing else could. He moaned and choked and begged for more all at the same time, and Rob’s hands clasped Mr. McClintock’s trunk-like thighs. A baritone grunt came from Mr. McClintock, who thrust his hips one more time, making his balls slap Rob in the chin.
“Goddamn, boy, swallow that shit…”
He shot a huge load, especially for an older, mature man, Rob thought, his mind reeling as his lungs cried out for oxygen and his throat spasmed painfully. He thought he might lose consciousness before Mr. McClintock withdrew his dick slowly.
He moved very slow. Mr. McClintock loved this part of dome, but women never let it happen like this — he pulled out slowly, using both hands to force Rob’s head to remain in place — and to cover his face so Mr. McClintock didn’t have to see it. Rob squirmed, his throat squeezing as he tried to take a breath, but Mr. McClintock’s dick didn’t allow it, and he removed it arduously slowly. Every inch to get squeezed on was a new source of pleasure that wracked Mr. McClintock’s body.
Finally Rob tasted it, salty cum coating his tongue when Mr. McClintock’s cocktip finally reached his mouth. Rob took a deep, hoarse breath and spat up a mouth full of cum that spilled out over his mouth and lips. He gurgled and smeared it over himself before sucking most of it off his fingers.
That thirteen-inch dick throbbed limply over Rob’s face. Rob nudged it with his nose, giggling at the exhausted look on Mr. McClintock’s face. Rob smacked his lips and opened his mouth again to demonstrate that he had swallowed.
Then he stood. “Kiss me…”
Mr. McClintock looked like he might back out. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing, his lips grim and tight. Rob had swallowed his cum, but Rob’s face and lips still glimmered. He was definitely going to taste like it.
He had kissed men, and he had kissed women who tasted of his own cum, but he had never kissed a man who tasted of his own cum. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, thinking he should just get it over with. Then he let out a loud croaking gag when he got close and smelled Rob’s breath — he smelled like a brothel and a well-used jockstrap, Mr. McClintock thought — was that what his dick smelled like? No wonder his wife refused to suck him off anymore.
But he wasn’t going to shirk his duty. He had agreed to kiss Rob, so he did so, even as he let out another baritone gag. It was just disgust, after all, he frequently had to deal with nasty and even painful stuff here at work. He could deal with it.
Rob’s mouth tasted snotty and sticky, his lips sour and cottony. He could tell right away that he was going to taste this for a long time, he wouldn’t be able to wash it away. Their tongues interlocked in Mr. McClintock’s mouth. Rob’s tongue moved around, but Mr. McClintock didn’t move anymore than he thought he absolutely had to.
He only pulled away when Rob began sucking on his upper lip and the mustache there. Mr. McClintock gagged again, but then resumed his stiff, dour look, his soft dick still dangling out of the fly of his workpants.
“You okay?” Rob asked.
Mr. McClintock nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak because he thought he might gag again, and he didn’t want to look weak.
“Well, then, I guess we have an agreement,” Rob said. He kept playing with that huge dick until Mr. McClintock scowled and tucked it back in his pants. Then he stood, kissed Mr. McClintock on the neck, and walked out of his office. “I’ll see you on the first of the month to pick up the calculators.”
Rob was exhilarated as he left. There were a lot of hot older guys in this factory, he noticed. The average worker was about forty or forty-five here. Rob had a lot of opportunities, he thought with a squeal of glee.
Coming back here every month was going to be fun. He could mess with Mr. McClintock for calculators, then jerk off the rednecks and blue-collars for beer money. They’d probably even gangbang him for a big enough payday, he thought with a shiver of anticipation.

The Seducer

Abelino is a Brazilian gigolo… or is he?! When his latest conquest wants to see him with another man, Abelino is bound to satisfy her needs, even if that means swinging on the downlow with a twink bartender who can’t believe his luck! Can Abelino please his woman… and his man?!

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Read the whole thing here!

Abelino was Brazilian, but he had moved away when he was very young, and his only memories of Brazil came from infrequent visits to see his grandparents. He only spoke Portuguese because he had taken classes, and his accent was atrocious. But he was of Brazilian descent, and few Americans had any idea that his Portuguese was poor.
“You are, eh, uh… the gostosa,” Abelino said to the woman at the bar. Her name was Lucinda, and she frowned at him at first. She didn’t like it when random men approached her in bars.
But Abelino was different. He was Brazilian, with a thick accent — she didn’t know the accent was not real — and he had dark skin, dark hair that fell in waves and tresses around his handsome face. He looked kind, his sparkling green eyes betraying his lover’s soul, and his broad muscles radiated the coziness of a comforting campfire. He had smooth hands with a firm grip that made Lucinda lick her lips and giggle when he touched her wrist.
And with that, Abelino knew she was seduced.
That was what Abelino did. He worked for the Rockhard Country Club. Officially speaking, he was a “Recreation Manager”. But he had been hired to seduce women. Rockhard had many women as members, and they required services that only a handsome stud like Abelino could provide.
His boss had made him the offer when he noticed Abelino stalking around the club — working as a dishwasher in the kitchen at the time — and going through women like the world was running out of them. Abelino did well then, on his own, even though a lot of the country club’s female members, who had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to join, refused to have anything to do with “the help”.
Abelino seduced the women who were willing, and those women never cancelled their memberships. So Abelino was given a promotion to Recreation Manager. That made him seem less like “the help” and more like a genuine prospect for the wealthy women who filled up the club. Since then, Abelino had been bouncing around among women, going to bed with a different one nearly every night. He kept them more than satisfied, and they re-upped their membership every year.
So when his latest female companion, Lucinda, asked about his friendship with the bartender at the club, Teddy, Abelino responded like a Brazilian (or like he thought a Brazilian would answer). He said he retained his machismo so long as he was on top. That was true. It wasn’t the whole story, but it was true.
Really, Abelino let Teddy jerk him off because Teddy liked it and gave him free drinks. After making love to seemingly all the older women of Springfield, Abelino found his head and his dick to be completely separate from each other. He had no need to be attracted to Teddy to get hard for him, and Teddy even swallowed his cum.
Anyway, he didn’t tell Lucinda that part. Or any of it, she had deduced it because she got to chatting with Teddy, and he told her only that his machismo demanded he act the man. It had become clear that she liked the machismo — her husband was a weak-kneed wastling, in her words — so he made up a story about his childhood in a favela, and she ate it up with a spoon.
She smiled at him and batted her eyes. She blushed a little, just like she had when she told Abelino she really wanted to sit on his face — not just a little bit, she wanted to ram her pussy on his face, like men in pornos did to women, throatfucking them, she had wanted to do that to Abelino. He had been happy to oblige and his tongue had explored every inch of her tender womanhood.
Now she blushed again. “So you would do that? You’d jack off with a man?”
“Of course,” he said like it was no big deal. “A real man can do it anytime.” Most women liked him as smooth and clean-cut as possible, but he knew how to switch gears and come across as a rough-edged macho when he needed to.
He leaned in to kiss her, and she allowed it though he sensed resistance — not because she disliked the kiss, but because it was not the thing she was looking for right now. He made it a quick kiss. Then he looked into her eyes trying to get what she wanted — was it something kinky? She looked like she might be into BDSM, but Abelino couldn’t decide if she was a dom or a sub. After some women had refused to listen to his safewords, Abelino did not agree to be a sub anymore. While Lucinda was confident and powerful, Abelino sometimes knew it was precisely that sort of women who most wanted to be submissive during sex. But he didn’t get that impression either. She had always been dominant in their past lovemaking.
“So… is that something you do a lot?” Lucinda asked. She blushed again, harder, but when she made eye contact with Abedino again, an involuntary giggle shimmied up her spine. She swallowed it up though, licking her lips. Then she raised her eyebrows in Teddy’s direction, as he filled drink orders at the bar.
Abelino cleared his throat as though nervous about answering. “That is… in my culture, it’s okay for a man to be on top, but a man must not brag about it with women. It is too crude-” It was only just now occurring to him that she brought this up not out of some fascination with foreign cultures and their mores, but because she was going to ask him to do it so she could watch.
Had Abelino gone too far? She was into this. He now wished he had said right off the bat he would never do that. Now she was going to want to push his boundaries. He didn’t want to disappoint Lucinda, not to mention his boss. He would be humiliated to admit there was a woman he couldn’t satisfy.
And he wasn’t lying. He knew from his father and, especially, his ex-con uncle that Brazilian men had no compunctions about jacking off with each other. His father and uncle saw that as a shameful part of Brazilian culture. They would say that Abelino should act like an American, not a Brazilian. They left Brazil to get away from the people acted Brazilian.
But that wasn’t Abelino’s view.
“So you have done it? I’m not some delicate flower that might wilt if you handle me roughly,” she said. She licked her teeth, avoid smuding her lipstick. Then she lowered her voice and leaned in close to Abelino. “Come on, it’s hot. Have you ever sutkc it to a man? Lemme hear it.” She owned a private security company, so she was used to operating in a male-dominated world. She enjoyed getting them to talk about subjects they wouldn’t normally discuss in front of women.
Abelino cleared his throat. “I have, y’know… I have been around the block, as they say. If a man wants a swing…-.”
She nodded. An elderly couple stood at the bar nearby to get drinks, and for a moment, conversation stopped. The old people would be able to hear, so neither Lucinda nor Abelino said anything. Abelino sipped at his own drink, while Lucinda re-fixed her lipstick. When the old people finally received their drinks and went back to the lounge, Lucinda looked at Abelino with big wide eyes.
“So is it like, seriously common in Brazil or what? Like if I just hooked up with some random Brazilian guy and told him I thought it was hot if he ‘cornholed’ a dude, what would be my chances of him agreeing to do it?” She put ‘cornholed’ in quotes and snickered about it. It seemed like such a silly word when she said it.
Abelino hoped he looked confident. He was about to say “yes”, that a random Brazilian man was likely to agree to cornhole another man if she wanted him to — but then Abelino got worried that she’d actually try it and end up getting killed if Abelino was mistaken. So Abelino shook his head.
“He would probably say no. Most men would do so only when they are very young, or in prison or in the Army,” he said in the thickest faux-Brazilian accent he could muster. “And they would not admit it to a foreigner.” That sounded realistic, he thought, and hopefully it would make her drop the idea clearly forming in her brain of getting Abelino to cornhole Teddy.
Lucinda sighed and nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Still, I think it’s hot. There’s, like, virtually no American men who would do that.” She paused. She glanced up at Teddy. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t think so,” Abelino said. He was already getting the gist of where this conversation was going to go next. Did he want to stop it? Abelino was not supposed to take money from the women he seduced. He worked for Rockhard Country Club, and management didn’t want him getting paid from both ends. Abelino did get meals, clothes and other gifts though. He decided he could get paid by Lucinda because she would be too ashamed to ever tell anyone.
He was sure she was going to offer a substantial amount of money, Abelino was sure of that; she had that “rich bitch who can pay for whatever she wants” look on her face. It was just a matter of time. When she asked what time the bar closed, it was clear she was waiting for Teddy to be available. That gave Abelino an hour or so to gather up the nerve. He needed to look confident, he thought.
Finally, just a few minutes before the bar closed, Lucinda motioned for Teddy, who approached, jealous that the casanova Abelino had been with her all night. Teddy sometimes got to touch Abelino’s chest when there were no women around.
“So, Teddy,” she said with a forced, fake smile. “I wanted to make an offer. Do you think he’s handsome?” She pointed to Abelino.
“Well, of course, yes, ma’am,” Teddy said.
“I want to watch him… and you.”
“I see… You’re watching us both now.”
“No, I mean, I want to watch you.” She raised her eyebrows. She glanced over at Abelino. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to cornhole him so I can watch.” She glanced back at Teddy. “That’s for both of you, you split that.”
“Abelino?” Teddy asked as casually as he could muster, but he was already locking up the cash register. Abelino’s eyes opened wide and he stammered.
“Aaaaah…” Abelino sucked on his lip. Teddy leered at him, blushing. Teddy knew that Abelino was not from Brazil — he was from Yonkers — but Teddy wasn’t going to admit that. Abelino grunted and nodded. He smiled as though this was no big deal.
‘It’s not a big deal’, he reminded himself.
The bar was almost empty and the waitresses could finish up with the last few customers, Teddy thought, hurrying to lock up the register. He quickly got through the last of his duties, then followed Lucinda and Abelino out of the country club main building and to the cabanas by the pool.
There was one cabana labeled “The Nap Room”. Its apparent intended purpose, of course, was for people to take a nap during the day. It did get some activity of that sort. Old men playing golf sometimes wanted to lay down before doing anything else.
But everyone knew that the Nap Room’s main purpose was sex. That was where Abelino made love to most of the women he seduced, and there were some female staff that brought men here as well.
It was a plain room, warm and humid like all cabanas, with reed mats lining the walls and clean towels everywhere. It smelled vaguely of flowers from the air fresheners that crowded each outlet — the staff were always concerned about the smell in here. They didn’t want it to smell like a brothel. Neither did Abelino, but he also didn’t like the cabana being overstuffed with air fresheners. That wasn’t classy either.
But it was comfortable regardless. The bed was nicer than in the other cabanas, and the sheets were luxurious. It was always warm in here. Abelino liked it that way.
“Do Brazilian men kiss?” Lucinda asked as she sat down on a chair that faced the bed. She had a strict, stentorian tone to her voice. “Each other, I mean.”
Abelino gulped and nodded. He could tell that Lucinda loved his hesitance — she seemed to get off on it, and she seemed ready to start fingering herself when she motioned for Abelino and Teddy to kiss. That was not something Abelino had a habit of doing, so he hesitated. Then he closed his eyes and winced as he planted his lips on Teddy’s.
Teddy kissed him right back, plunging his tongue into Abelino’s mouth. Teddy was so much shorter than him that they struggled to kiss standing there in front of her. After a few seconds, however, they ended up on the bed. Lucinda made them rotate to do it at a different angle so she could see as they made out.
Teddy ran his fingers through Abelino’s thick mane of black hair. It was luxurious and perfect. Teddy had never been with someone with such perfect hair. After his first few seconds of awkwardness, Abelino’s inhibitions melted away — he found that kissing Teddy was a lot like kissing a woman. Some of the women he was with weren’t even very feminine, so Teddy didn’t seem like such a stretch. At least he was young and taut, and none of his body parts sagged.
Teddy’s hands roamed over Abelino’s body, and Abelino found himself getting more and more excited. This might not be that bad, he thought, and he’d both make money and no doubt have Lucinda put in a good word about him with the country club’s management. She would never admit why she appreciated him, of course, but she would surely tell them he satisfied her.
Wanting to put on a good show for Lucinda, Abelino tongue-kissed Teddy back. At first it was awkward just like before — but worse since there was an audience — but once he got into it, Abelino found he didn’t notice so much that Teddy was not a woman. He’d been pretending to be a macho Brazilian for so long it felt good to pass as one yet again, in a whole new way.
“You are so beautiful-” He tried to aim his seductive patter at Lucinda, but she motioned to Teddy.
“Talk to him,” she said. She fingered herself as Abelino murmured sweetly into Teddy’s ear.
“I will make sweet love to you, my darling,” Abelino said, having to suppress a laugh when he saw Teddy smile. “I will make your body feel so sweetly.” His accent was thick and luxuriant, and more than a little difficult to understand. He kissed Teddy again. “You will taste my tropical fire, darling…” Abelino spoke like that when seducing women, but Teddy found it impossible to take seriously, and he struggled not to laugh at Abelino’s serious mien.
In the steamy heat of the Nap Room cabana, both Teddy and Abelino were overcome by passion strong enough to forget about the woman in the room. To Teddy, that was normal and desirable. Abelino could only keep going when he lost himself in his feelings and sensation, so he didn’t think about what he was doing. All that mattered was the pleasure sparking up from deep within him and wracking his powerful frame.
When Teddy felt the throbbing firmness of Abelino’s erection through both men’s clothes, he knew it was time to move on. Lucinda was watching intently, her face flush — she might have been closer to orgasming than either of the men, as she was fingering herself beneath her light dress.
Teddy couldn’t help but laugh at the looks on both Abelino’s and Lucinda’s faces. She was serious as a tornado, and her whole body writhed as she fingered herself hard. Abelino varied between his “seductive gigolo” look and an involuntary “desperate rough trade” mien. Teddy found both of them very arousing, and he bit back his laugh to avoid turning either Abelino or Lucinda off, but it soon became apparent neither paid any attenion to him. Lucinda had eyes only for Abelino, and Abelino was concerned only with Teddy’s ass. He was trying to avoid listening to Teddy’s voice.
Lucinda let out a little moan from watching the two of them get in position, her pussy growing wetter and wetter as Abelino’s tongue explored Teddy’s ear. Abelino sucked on his earlobe, which he knew drove women crazy. Teddy giggled like a girl, in a way he kind of always wanted to be. He wished he could be seduced by men like Abelino every day.
But once Teddy felt Abelino’s cock slip into the crack of his ass, his giggles went away. “Oh, Abelino!” He spread his cheeks and backed himself up onto Abelino’s dick. There was an intense pressure at first as he accepted every inch of his hot uncut meat, and then Teddy’s ass opened, and he slid down and a shudder of bliss wracked up and down his body.
“Ah, yes… Let me inside you, my darling, my sweet…” Abelino didn’t want to look foolish in front of Lucinda, so he exuded confidence as much as he could. He was so focused on his demeanor that he was surprised when his cock fit in easily and sent a jolt of pleasure through him.
Teddy had a tight, smooth hole and Abelino moaned, faking it at first for Lucinda’s benefit. Then it turned real and the tenor shifted. Abelino’s cock pushed in a little deeper, then deeper still until at last he was entirely in Teddy’s ass. It squeezed and pulsated around his manhood.
He was not expecting it to feel this good. Teddy’s ass was tighter than Lucinda’s pussy had ever been, and something about the way Teddy wriggled beneath him made pleasure course intensely through Abelino’s veins.
The sound of Lucinda fingering herself faded from Abelino’s mind, though her breathing grew more rapid and more jagged as she went on. He was focused singularly on making love to Teddy’s behind, overwhelmed by the tsunami of sensations that poured through his veins. He rammed his dick in, not forcefully or aggressively, but firmly, grinding it every inch of the way so as to stimulate all of Teddy’s nerves.
“Oh god…” Teddy moaned as he stroked himself off. After his initial awkwardness, Teddy thought, Abelino learned quickly and now rammed into him like he knew what he was doing.
Abelino first tried to modulate his plowing so as to best appeal to Lucinda, but he soon lost control of his passion — and deduced that that was what Lucinda most got off on anyway — that seemed to be what she wanted, to see Abelino’s Brazilian machismo take over — and went at it as hard as he could. None of his women ever really wanted that until now, so it was nice to pound away at Teddy’s ass as hard as he could, Teddy begging for more every step of the way.
It felt better than it had any right to. Perhaps the awkwardness of it accentuated the pleasure, Abelino thought, because once he got into the swing of ramming back and forth, hitting Teddy’s prostate hard, it felt so good he let out a spine-tingling howl of desire. It started off as genuine, then turned into a softly romantic moan to appeal to Lucinda, then became genuine again, as sensations the likes of which Abelino hadn’t felt in a long time moved him. He felt like a young man again, losing his virginity to an older woman and feeling the victorious pump of power that came with it.
And Teddy was so easy! No need to seduce a woman! Teddy wanted to be seduced! Abelino’s voice broke as he moaned, writhing, his whole body undulating and ramming his cock back and forth in Teddy’s ass. Teddy cried out for more, and his hands turned into claws that dug at the soft bedspread of the Nap Room.
“Ah, shit, yeah, man…” Abelino’s voice turned tight as he orgasmed deep in Teddy’s ass. He coughed, mid-climax, when he realized his words were unaccented — Lucinda hadn’t noticed, so he just bit his lip to avoid talking as he came. It was hard to get rid of that Yonkers accent mid-orgasm.
His seed flowed into Teddy, coating his insides and seeping into him. He shot a huge load, matched by Teddy himself, who shot his wad all over the mattress of the Nap-Room cabana. A hot and creamy spurt of jizz coated Teddy’s inside, as he writhed in the throes of exquisite ecstasy. Teddy cried out, and he would have done so again, louder and louder, but Abelino kissed him once more.
Was that kiss motivated by passion? By lust? By the need to quiet Teddy down lest anybody walking past the cabana realize what was going on in here. Even Abelino himself was unsure. All three of those motivations roiled within, as he pumped his powerful thighs to jet jizz after jizz up Teddy’s ass.
It kept going, all three of them orgasming now — Lucinda barely showed hers because she was too prim and proper, but Teddy cried out in a muffled voice while Abelino’s smooth baritone echoed in the tiny cabana. Lucinda’s careful neckline was beaded with sweat, and her coiffed hair had gone limp and moist.
“Oh god, yes!” Teddy’s voice warbled and brokeonce more. He had rarely gotten it this good, and he was breathless as the last pangs of his orgasm wracked his body. He was definitely going to recommend that Abelino be kept on staff and even given a raise. Management gave Teddy’s opinion considerable weight, because he knew the staff, the clients and the secrets of both. Abelino’s muscles tensed and rippled where they pressed against Teddy’s back, as both men let the last of their cum dribble out. Teddy gasped. Abelino sighed.
At last, Abelino was done. His dick throbbed in Teddy’s ass. Both of them were motionless for a moment, as Abelino tried to wipe the sweat off his face only to smear it around. The Nap Room was going to need a good cleaning, he thought, those air fresheners were gonna need to go heavy-duty. He chuckled as he pulled out and took a deep breath. He was glad he had gotten through that without embarrassing himself. His chest was sweaty, his hair tangled and ruffled. He tried to affect a macho face, though he wasn’t sure Lucinda paid much attention. She had had a loud orgasm, hadn’t she? Abelino hadn’t really been paying attention, he lost track of Lucinda. He still needed to get the money out of her though. It was hard to think until his cock finally slid limply out of Teddy’s both, and both men erupted in a synchronous sigh.
“Well, how was that?” Abelino said, chest muscles rippling when he felt Teddy’s tongue exploring his body. He sighed and allowed it, letting Teddy lick all the sweat off his shoulders and his biceps. Teddy had been trying to lick his chest since they met, and he finally got to do it now, his hands roaming over Abelino’s powerful muscles, his throbbing cock and his thick thighs.
Lucinda was sweaty and sprawled out, a faint smile remaining on her face. She stood on uneven legs. “That,” she said, “was worth every penny.” She handed over the thousand dollars. “You two should work together. You’d make bank.”
“I’m in!” Teddy blurted, clutching Abelino’s naked torso close. “I am so definitely in.”

The Bouncer

Rob is eager to service the bouncer at the biker bar, and he just might have his chance! He hangs out in the alley by the dumpster where the legendary bouncer Banner drops off the scumbags he kicks out of the Clever Pipe, and when Rob makes him an offer too good to pass out, Banner is all too happy to treat Rob exactly the way he wants it!

Can Rob handle the punishment he’s begging for?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob Winthrop headed down the alley behind the club. He smoked a cigarette to make it look like he was waiting for someone to leave out the back. Every few minutes some drunkard did leave out the back, but Rob ignored everyone. He wasn’t here for any of them.
He was here for the bouncer out front.
He had a plan to get him too, but he needed to wait for him to come into the alley. The bouncer was named Banner. He was square-jawed and rugged, with a dense network of scars on his fingers. He said that was from getting angry and punching his fist through glass windows on several occasions. He was a bouncer at the Clever Pipe, a tough bar on the outskirts of town.
Finally the back door flew open, and a drunk man was shoved out of it. Banner followed him, pushing him every few feet and barking out challenges and questions. “Get out. Come at me, brah. Come at me then. You wanna fight? You wanna show off fo’ ya girl? Here’s ya chance, come at me. Lemme see it.” Banner had a handsome face with a noble jaw and a crooked nose, with a flatness to his voice like he had a phonograph in his throat. Even when he spat invective at the drunk man he was kicking out, he didn’t really sound like he meant it. He sounded like a bad actor reading his lines for the first time. He had thick boots like a factory worker. Already tonight a few drops of blood blotted the black leather of his boots. Rob didn’t know if it was Banner’s, the drunk man’s or someone else’s.
Banner pushed the drunk man until he tottered in a garbagey puddle near the dumpster. Then he cackled and kicked the man in the side. The man yelped and squirmed. He tried to crawl away.
A drunk girl came out the back, sloshing through the doorway like a spilled cosmo. She tried to push Banner into the wall — which was ridiculous, because Banner was like a mountain compared to her drunk, wavering twig of a body — but he just moved out of the way. She smacked into the brick wall then stumbled to her boyfriend.
“You fucking pussy!” she said. She sounded so drunk she was about to pass out.
“You’re a slut!” the drunk man bellowed from the ground.
Banner watched with a sneer. The two drunkards argued there in the garbage. Banner lit a cigarette. He flexed his biceps, which were visible beneath the white wifebeater he wore — it looked like it had been brand new at the start of his shift, but now had sweat stains around the shoulders, spilled beer soaked into it and a few drops of dried blood over his heart..
He saw Rob there and nodded. Banner licked his teeth. “I’s the bouncer.” He paused like he was waiting for an order.
Rob came forward. “It’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.”
The drunk couple headed out of the alley, staggering forward as they shouted at each other. Banner took a deep drag on his cigarette. “You waitin’ for somebody?”
Rob nodded. “But I don’t think they’re coming. They might have gone home with somebody else.”
Banner nodded. Rob made sure to accentuate his feminine side to put Banner at ease. Banner bristled and wrinkled his nose. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re Banner, right? I’m Rob.” They had actually “met”, or at least interacted briefly, last weekend; but Banner didn’t remember that.
Banner grunted and threw his eyebrows back. He wasn’t used to being polite to bargoers. Being a bouncer at a club like this was one of the few professions where being mean to the customers was expected. Banner was not graded on customer service, which was good because most everyone found him chilling. He put a damper on the club every time he worked. He had that grim-eyed stare that made the waitresses trade shifts to get away from him.
But the owner, Math, liked that he kicked ass. Banner never lost a fight. At a bar like the Clever Pipe, that was a frequently useful skill, and it was more important than the comfort of the waitresses.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks to take your shirt off and put me in a headlock,” Rob said. As soon as he said it, he squealed and blushed. He handed Banner the money before Banner even responded.
He took the fifty dollar bill. He stared at it, then sighed and chuckled. He took off his wifebeater. He grimaced at the sight of Rob’s leering eyes. His pecs flexed — not in a deliberate, seductive way, but like he was imagining punching Rob and his muscles were dreaming about it.
But then he put Rob in a headlock. He wrapped his right arm around Rob’s neck, holding him tightly. Rob was squashed between his arm and his chest. His other arm pulled Rob’s body close to Banner’s, whose bare muscles writhed like a barrel of snakes against Rob’s skin.
Sweat dripped onto Rob’s lips and coated his face. The scent of Banner’s unwashed machismo was alluring, and Rob groaned. He smelled cheap deodorant too, but it had already been overpowered by Banner’s sweaty night in the overcrowded nightclub.
“Do you ever make guys jack you off?”
“What?”
“I’ve heard some bouncers sometimes take drunk guys they kick out, and y’know… make ‘em jack them off,” Rob said.
“No.”
“Would you? I mean, if I paid you?” Rob struggled to speak through the headlock. He planted his lips on Banner’s rock-hard bicep and kissed loudly.
Banner groaned and looked away. He gamely kept Rob in the headlock, though he could have dropped him. He blushed. “What, man? You wanna pay me to make some dude jack me off?”
“No, me. I want to pay you to make me jerk you off.”
“No way. I don’t-“
“A thousand dollars.”
A long, empty silence filled the alley. Banner held his cigarette in his hand. He narrowed his eyebrows to slits.
“You gonna pay me a grand to jack me off?”
“No. I’m gonna pay you a grand for you to make me jack you off,” Rob said. He writhed in the headlock, and rubbed his ass against Banner’s crotch. “I’ll pay you another grand to cornhole me in the ass.”
“Nope. No way. I don’t do that.” Banner said. He sighed. He pushed Rob away from him. His serious face screwed up like he was sucking on a lemon. “I won’t do that. No way.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “Three grand. Three grand, man. No. Nevermind. I can’t.”
“Oh-“
“Okay, yeah. Three grand. I can do it. Thirty five hundred. I’ll do it for thirty five hundred,” he said. He sighed and leaned over the railing. His big plump ass stood up. It was cradled by tight basketball shorts beneath his scruffy jeans. The top of his asscrack was just barely visible. Sweat collected there. “No, I mean… Yeah. I can do it. Four grand. I want four grand.”
“I better get started before the price keeps going up,” Rob said. He dropped to his knees and in one smooth motion planted his tongue in that spot of asscrack visible above Banner’s sagging jeans.
“Ah shit, man,” Banner squirmed. He looked behind himself at Rob licking his asscrack. “You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout licking my ass. You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout that.”
“If I’m paying four grand, I’m lickin’ your ass. Don’t get cheap now,” Rob said. “I promise I won’t put anything in there, not even a finger. Okay, my tongue. I’ll put my tongue in there.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. He turned back around and grabbed Rob by the chin. “Boy… if you even think about putting a finger in my ass, I will kill you. You understand me? I will not try to hide the evidence. I will go to prison with my head held high, bitch. You dig me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.”
“Okay, uh, Banner.”
He snorted and laughed nervously. He paused and smoked his cigarette. He blew smoke into Rob’s face. Rob coughed.
“You imaginin’ ya finger in my ass?”
“No, Banner. I promise. I swear. I don’t do that,” Rob said.
“Ya dick?”
“No. I only ever bottom,” Rob said. His heart skipped a beat. Like most bouncers, Banner was very good at intimidating people. He stared Rob down, then spat on his face. “I just want to suck your asshole, that’s all.”
“Fuckin’ freak.”
Banner undid the belt of his jeans and pulled down his shorts to reveal a pale, trembling pair of beautifully plump asscheeks. There was a big nasty twisted scar on one cheek. He only pulled down his pants on his backside, taking care to make sure he didn’t bare his cock and balls.
Rob separated those cheeks and inhaled deeply of the scent. The sound of him sniffing made Banner chuckle, his whole body shaking. Rob leaned his head in and slipped his tongue into Banner’s tight hole.
“What’s this scar?” Rob asked as he kissed all up and down the crack of Banner’s ass.
“I got shot,” Banner said. His voice was pinched, as though it hurt to have his asshole licked. He squirmed and groaned. His hole clenched around Rob’s tongue.
Rob tickled the gunshot-wound scar on his ass. One of his hands roamed between Banner’s legs, massaging the taint there. He suckled loudly and moistly on Banner’s asshole. He slurped out all the stank, salty sweat he could get to.
“Who shot you?”
“This guy. There was a disagreement,” Banner said. ‘Bout who owned this girl.”
Rob giggled into Banner’s ass. “I hope you were on the side of ‘nobody owned her’.”
Banner bristled and bit his lip. He didn’t answer at first. Then he murmured, “I ain’t a rapist or a pimp or nothin’.”
“Uh-huh-“
“Ah, damn!” Banner laughed. “I gots an idea.” He clapped his hands and fished his phone out of his pants pocket. That turned out to be difficult to do in this position, so he wordlessly pushed Rob onto the cold, moist ground on his back. Banner lowered his ass, squatting over Rob’s face. That was perfect for Rob, because it forcibly separated Banner’s cheeks, giving him perfect access to his hole. It was easier for Banner to get into his own pants pocket this way.
Rob flickered his tongue all the way in to Banner’s hole, far enough in that Banner shuddered and groaned. He nearly dropped his cell phone as he dialed. Finally he got it to ring and held it to his ear.
“Yo, nigga. Guess what? Remember that thing you said only niggas can ever talk someone into? I got this bitch lickin’ at my hole right now-” Banner paused and groaned. “Nigga nigga nigga, I say it when I want, man. I ain’t even have to talk this bitch into it. Uh-huh. Got that tongue all up in my guts right now, cleanin’ me out, uh-huh. Gonna rub it like a dog now.” He moved his ass back and forth, squeezing over Rob’s tongue. “Yeah, it’s real nasty.” He paused. “Alright, yeah. I meet you tomorrow at noon. Get up early then, and don’t try and pass off schwag, I will kick yo’ ass again. Bullshit. I beat yo’ ass like a cop behind bars, nigga. I destroyed you. I’m just sayin’ it to piss you off now. That’s my right. That’s my First Amendment right as an American.” He paused and grunted. “Hell yeah. But I am takin’ her ass, man — no! No! You can’t call it like that, that ain’t fair. I fuck her in the ass. Yeah, you take the pussy. If our balls touch, I will punch you. If our balls touch, it will be yo’ fault, I guarantee that.” He squirmed atop Rob’s tongue. “God damn, man, you ain’t say ya tongue gonna feel like that. Okay, nigga. Nigga please. Nigga you don’t even- Uh-huh, my nigga. You my nigga, dawg. I swear-” He put the phone down. He snorted. “Hung up. Fuckin’ asshole.” He stood up and grabbed Rob by the neck. “You ready to swallow some dick, deadbeat?”
“Yeah,” Rob said. The only sound he could make right now was a weak squeak.
Banner spat on his face. He laughed and clapped his hands. “Alright, goddamn. This is kinda fun.” He pushed Rob onto his knees. He had a massive cock, already half-hard and throbbing in his hands. He pried Rob’s mouth apart and fed it in. He shuddered, then smiled. “My dad was a bouncer — I only met him a few times in person, he been in jail since I was little — and he always say this is what it used to be like. Police used to be on ya side, you know? If some deadbeat raised a fuckin’ stink, you could raise a fuckin’ stink on his face, dig?” He sighed as he slammed his dick all the way into Rob’s throat.
Rob struggled to accept it all. He gagged violently. His hands tightened into claws that grabbed at Banner’s plump asscheeks, which were still wet from Rob’s licking.
“Man… My dad used to come home late, and he’d drink with my uncle Tony — he lived wit’ us then — and he’d tell Tony about the shit he did to the boys who raised too much hell in his bar. I ain’t understand half of what he said,” Banner said. “Like usin’ a bum as an ashtray.” He made sure Rob’s eyes were open wide, then ground his cigarette out on Rob’s forehead.
The scorching pain on his flesh made Rob squirm. His mouth struggled to avoid biting down, but he didn’t have any leverage anyway, so he probably couldn’t have bit if he wanted to. All he could do was hock up a ball of saliva that dripped down Banner’s shaft.
“Alright, deadbeat,” Banner said. He sounded absent-minded, like he was acting out something he recalled his father saying. “Now here comes the big finale. I’m gonna turn your ass into my woman, a woman I don’t think much of. It’s gonna hurt, and you gonna cry, but eventually it’ll be over. Then you be a flappy-butted loser.” He bent Rob over the railing near the landing by the back door to the club.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Banner had his cock in Rob’s ass — he just jammed it in as though the more he thought about it, the more he might be unable to perform. He sighed once the first inch or so was in. Rob squealed and gasped.
“That hurt? It should. You want something to bite on?” Banner said. He put his corded-muscle forearm in front of Rob’s mouth. “You can bite my arm, bitch. I won’t be mad.”
Rob didn’t want to bite, though the pressure in his ass was intense. He kissed. He sucked on the firm muscle of Banner’s forearm, nibbling a bit only when the sensations in his ass became too incredible to avoid.
“Say ‘I’m a bitch’.”
“I’m a bitch!”
“Say it louder. Be proud of ya bitchitude. Bitch.”
“I’m a bitch! I’m such a bitch! I’m Banner’s bitch! I’ll do anything he wants!” Rob screamed into the darkened alley.
“Ha, now I get it, I know why my dad was-” Banner chuckled dryly, interrupted when his cell phone rang. “That’s prolly that nigga again, tellin’ me he run out of weed or some shit. I swear to God- Oh, nevermind, it’s my boss. Shush.” He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Rob’s ass.
There was a long silence. It took all of Rob’s concentration to avoid crying out. Banner stopped moving, but he stopped with his entire cock throbbing in Rob’s ass.
“Yes, sir. Uh-huh. Uh, yeah, Math, I’m just, uh, takin’ care of- Right. Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a moment.” He hung up the phone and barked. He punched Rob in the back, then roared and backed away. Blessed relief flooded Rob as his ass was emptied. “I swear to Christ, I will rip this bitch’s throat out.” He pulled his pants up. “You hear me? I will kill- Sorry ‘bout punching you, man. I ain’t mean to hurtcha.”
“No worries, I’m not hurt-“
“I will lay down some law like a lawyer, boy. You best believe it,” he said. He went back into the club, still shirtless, his cock and his ass moist. His dick was still as hard as iron, and if the club weren’t so dark, the bulge in his jeans would have been obvious.
Rob pulled his pants up, just in case more people came out the back. He kept the door open too, watching. But the club was crowded and dark and smoky and loud, and Rob got only a vague impression of what was happening in there.
A glass-shattering crash. Gasps. What the fuck?! A crack. More gasping. Some laughter. Angry words spat out too quietly to hear. A moist sound that Rob couldn’t identify. You still feelin’ grabby, my man? A shriek of terror. Shut the fuck up! You gonna walk out like a man or you gonna get yaself thrown out like a bitch?
Then Rob saw a blurry mix of limbs and muscle come his way. He stepped away from the door just in time to see Banner dragging a thrashing man out into the alley. The man was drunk, crying, red-faced, blood streaming from his nostrils.
The man staggered to his feet in the puddle of dumpster water he landed in. “Fuck you!” he screamed. He drunkenly, slowly put his fists up. “Come at me, bro. Come at me. Try me, huh?”
Banner laughed. “Don’t make me. I would come over there and kick ya ass, bro. I would do it. But you happened to interrupt me when I was punishin’ the last deadbeat who raised up a fuss and I don’t wanna stop.”
“Come at me!” The drunk man kept repeating that, staggering around the alley. He didn’t seem to notice at first when Banner dropped his jeans again.
Banner’s cock was not totally hard anymore, but he had only lost a bit of his erection. He rammed it into Rob’s ass and sighed as though he was scratching an itch he had been unable to reach for a long time. He slipped his entire cock in, and Rob squealed — he had to make it very loud to get the drunk’s attention.
The drunk stepped closer like he didn’t understand what he was seeing. He screwed up his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “You’re cornholin’ that man’.”
“You earnin’ yo’ identifyin’-nasty-shit merit badge, man?” Banner said. “Cuz you got it. You earned that.”
There was a long pause. “That’s nasty.”
“Go home, fuckwit! Ain’t you figure this out yet? When I’m done cornholin’ this deadbeat, I’m gonna come over there and cornhole you, ya dig? I’m gonna cornhole you till yo’ eyes bleed. I’m gonna cornhole you even though my dick gonna be limp cuz I just cornhole him, I’ll just shove it in ya ass anyway and watch porn on my phone till I get hard again. So you had better run the fuck away befo’ I finish.”
The drunk man covered his mouth like he had to suppress a shout. Then he turned tail and fled. He ran down the alley, swaying from side to side so badly he bumped into the wall and knocked over a trash can.
One of Banner’s hands grabbed Rob’s hair, holding his head in place. He groaned and moaned. Rob stroked himself off.
But first, before he reached orgasm, Rob pulled out his own cell phone. He handed it to Banner and said, “Here. Will you call my dad?”
“Call yo’ daddy?”
“Yeah. Tell him you’re cornholin’ me. I want to humiliate him. He doesn’t like the idea of me being dirty at all, and he would hate it if he knew I let a bouncer in me. No offense,” Rob said. “I’ll give you an extra hundred bucks. His name is Eugene.”
Banner grabbed the phone and muttered. “Fine.” He snorted and cleared his throat as it rang. “Yo. Hey. You, uh, Eugene? That’s right, I got ya boy’s cell phone. He can’t talk right now, on ‘ccount of he’s bein’ bitched out. Uh-huh. I’s a bouncer at the Clever Pipe, that’s that discount burlesque club, ya boy is here right now jackin’ dudes off for a quarter — yeah, he just drainin’ they balls so they ain’t gotta spend as much on lapdances. If you ever been to the Clever Pipe, you know they got some nasty-ass females. But only scumbags ever come here, so it works out for them. Anyway, I was callin’ you to give you an update on ya boy and see if you wanna buy this car I got — it ain’t stolen, I swear, but I do gotta get rid of it tonight and it’s got Massachusetts tags you should prolly take off right away. You can pay in money or in meth. Uh-huh. Sorry, I’s havin’ trouble hearin’ ya over the sound of ya boy swallowin’ nutsacks. You teach him to do that? You teach him good.” He stopped and shrugged. “He hung up. Ya daddy sound like a judge. He a judge?”
“No.”
“Good. Cuz I might have kick ya ass for real if yo’ daddy was a judge. He sound like the fuckhead who put my brother away,” Banner said. “Now hush up, I’m gonna cum.” He put his cell phone on Rob’s back, and the tinny sound of hetero porn filled the air.
Once he got it started, however, Banner didn’t seem to spend much focus looking at the screen. He closed his eyes and moaned, tweaking his own nipples. He groaned in disgust when Rob orgasmed and sprayed his wad over the alley ground, but he didn’t say anything.
“Aw, fuck, aw fuck, aw fuck…” Banner grunted. He pushed on Rob’s head and gripped his ass tightly in position.
A wash of hot cum spurted into Rob, followed by a long torrent of semen. It was thick and creamy, and it seeped into his flesh. Banner stopped moving while he came. He closed his eyes tightly as though watching a horror movie. His cock spasmed and the cum flowed until it was dripping out of Rob’s ass and onto the trashy ground beneath him.
“God damn, bitch. God damn,” Banner said. He smacked Rob’s ass without removing his cock, chuckling when that made Rob yelp and squirm. Banner swayed his hips and twitched his dick, causing a bubbly frothy load of cum to slip out. It coated Rob’s ass and dripped in clumps onto the ground.
“Wow, thanks-“
“Pay me, bitch,” Banner said with a growl like a jaguar. It sent a chill up Rob’s spine. “You best not cheat me. And clean my cock off wit’ yo’ clothes.”
“Yes, Banner,” Rob said. He used his shirt to wipe off Banner’s cock, then brought out his own smartphone. They used the app that Rob’s father had invented — PayUp — to transfer four thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars into Banner’s account. Rob didn’t tell Banner that it was his father’s app. Rob knew better than to spread that kind of personal info around.
Banner put his sweaty wifebeater back on. “Alright, you done.”
Rob didn’t respond right away. He was all cleaned up and dressed, ready to go, but he wanted to watch Banner’s muscle-bound body for as long as possible. Banner stayed there at the door, scowling at him.
“Okay, man, you get away,” Banner said. He spat on the ground. “Or I will kick yo’ ass for real.”
When Banner formed a fist with one hand and reared back ready to strike, Rob turned tail and fled into the night.

The Gigolo

Galeno is a gigolo who makes love to women for money, but he just might be willing to service Teddy too… Can Teddy convince him to cross the thin lavender line?

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Read the whole thing here!

Teddy placed a plate of chicken on the bar in front of the couple, who nodded at him but didn’t pay much attention. The woman didn’t look at him because she was focused on her man, Galeno. Galeno didn’t look at Teddy because he was a man on a mission. Teddy might as well have been invisible.
Galeno used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. He popped it in her mouth and she squealed. Galeno smiled, showing off those dimples to die for.
Arousal filled the air, virtually radiating off the couple and making the whole bar feel like a bordello. Teddy found it difficult to look away because Galeno was so handsome.
Teddy worked in the Rockhard Country Club and he’d become increasingly certain that Galeno was a gigolo. The place was chock-full of women, more than most country clubs, and Galeno was usually with one.
He wasn’t with the same one every night though. He cycled between them. He could, of course, have simply been a player, maybe he got laid a lot. Teddy was jealous of those ladies. That didn’t mean Galeno was a gigolo. But it was the only thing that really made sense to Teddy.
Galeno never got “caught”. After more than a year of constant womanizing out of the same country club, that seemed unlikely. Surely at some point, a woman he had been with previously would come in to the country club she was a member of. She’d see Galeno with another woman. Teddy was pretty sure that had happened at least once, when he saw a woman coming in whom he’d seen with Galena a few weeks prior. But the woman had just shrugged at the sight of Galeno with a different woman.
So him being a gigolo made sense, that would explain it too.
Of course they could have just broken up, maybe that was why she didn’t get upset. That was another reasonable explanation. Teddy couldn’t quite be sure. It simply violated everything he thought he knew about sexual interaction to assume Galeno could serially date every woman in this place and not spark any kind of jealous encounter or public breakup.
He didn’t want to look like he was spying on them, so Teddy didn’t stick around at the bar. Galeno and his current woman were eating their chicken very slowly and would not likely order anything else. He poured a couple wines for one of the waitresses, then went to the walk-in to get more limes.
There was a woman there crying. She had scurried behind the wall separating the corridor from the bar and restaurant, so nobody could see her until they came up close. She had her face in her arm, buried against the wall. A loud choked sob came from her lips.
“Uh… Miss?” Teddy came closer.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She wiped her tears away. “I just… I don’t feel quite like myself.”
“You don’t need to apologize. If you want, you can sit in the pantry right there, that’s even more alone than this hall. You can sit in the walk-in too, but that’s pretty cold. You might not like it there,” Teddy said. “I love your necklace, by the way.” It was just a glittery piece of gold, nothing special, but Teddy thought she needed a pick-me-up.
“Thanks.” She sniffled.
“Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”
“Not unless you can turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats,” she said with a sniffle.
Teddy shrugged. “I’ve never tried to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats. Lemme try.” He closed his eyes and pulled on his ears like he was a silly kids’ magician doing a trick. “Abracadabra!” He paused. “Did it work? Ah… no, I still don’t wanna be a stepdad.” He frowned at her. “Sorry. The answer is no, I don’t have the ability to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be a stepfather to three ungrateful brats.”
She laughed through her tears. “Thanks for trying. I guess I should have mentioned you’d have to be willing to marry me too.”
“You’re just full of rules.”
“I’d even be willing to forget about the stepfather-thing. I just want a man to take me seriously… I got stood up by this man as soon as he saw me and I told him I had three kids. We got along great online, we chatted for hours… And then he just snuck out on our first date. He said he had to go to the bathroom, and he disappeared.”
“Oh… That’s terrible… Look on the bright side: He could have been kidnapped by yakuza.”
A smile flickered over her face. “You’re silly. I’m Carla, and I-“
They were interrupted by an angry shout from the bar. Teddy turned to look and saw Galeno watching as a woman stormed away. She had thrown her drink in his face. Galeno shrugged. He wiped his face off, then finished his chicken.
“Excuse me, Carla,” Teddy said. He hurried back to the bar to clean up the liquor that had spilled.
Galeno nodded at him. “Good evening,” he said in that cloying Brazilian accent. “Sorry about the mess, senhor.” He had long curly black hair that extended well past his shoulders, and dusky brown skin. His accent fit him like the tailored suit he also wore. His dimples mesmerized like a swaying cobra. The sight of those compelling brown eyes made Teddy’s knees weak, and the feel of his hot breath glancingly condensing on Teddy’s arm made him want to swoon into Galeno’s powerful arms.
“Uh, so…” Teddy glanced back at the corridor beyond which he saw Betty’s shadow. Teddy cleared his throat. “You’re really into girls, right?”
Galeno scoffed.
“Do you… accept money from them?”
Galeno nodded. “That is why she left from here. She paid for one day, and she got it, for absolutely. I told her she must do payment for more time or I would leave,” he said with a sigh. His accent stuck in Teddy’s ears and made him crave more. Galeno’s soft skin beckoned. His English was good, not perfect, but perfectly wrong. Galeno made a kissy face and said, “She believed I did fallen into love with her.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I did. I fall into love with all women, no matter their size or age or shape. They have such beautiful flavors, and each one is a papaya of infinite sweetness. I could consume their tender womanhoods for hours, each one different but each one the same, and-” Galeno saw Teddy’s expression and fell flat. “Yes, I like women. But they must pay. I give them very much good love, it is worth it.”
“So you’d… be with a woman whose kind of thick and maybe needs someone else to do her makeup for her?” Teddy asked. Galeno nodded. Teddy continued, “Well… I’ve got a client for you. What do you charge?”
“For a whole day? I would ask-“
“A day? What am I, a vicarious nymphomaniac?”
“O que você quer dizer?”
“Nevermind, no, not a whole day. Just… an hour.”
He shrugged. “Four hundred dollars.”
“I can do that,” Teddy said. He took it out of his tips for the day. It was most of his tips so far today, but he could handle that. The Rockhard Country Club paid pretty good, and Teddy made tips on top of that.
Teddy went back to Carla, who was preparing to leave. He smiled at her. “I found you a man.”
“What? How?!”
“Well… Don’t get attached, he’s a gigolo,” Teddy said. “But I paid for him to satisfy you for an hour.” Teddy gestured to Galeno, who was getting up from the bar. His handsome face was framed by his magnificent mane.
Carla blushed and her knees went weak. She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, uh… He’s… He’s… a… Oh… I…”
Galeno came closer and took Betty’s hand in his. She blushed. Galeno leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Isso não significa nada.”
She swooned into his arms, and wrapped her hands around his well-muscled chest. Galeno’s hand roamed up and down her back as he led her away. Her breasts heaved, and Teddy could sense that her heart quickened. A few beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She erupted in a salad of giggles, while Galeno smiled at whatever she said.
They went to the disabled bathroom near the locker rooms. Teddy went back to the bar, a little disappointed that he didn’t even get to watch or anything. The bar was pretty quiet today. Nothing much to do. He sighed.
He went back to the disabled bathroom and put his head to the door. He couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of Carla orgasming. You could tell she was having her pussy eaten, Teddy thought. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could tell, that was a cunnilingus orgasm. He pictured Galeno’s broad brown back muscles writhing as he lapped at her womanhood.
Teddy wanted him bad. As a great admirer of the male physique, Teddy thought Galeno was ideal, his perfectly sculpted body suitable to model for Adonis or Heracles. He was so handsome Teddy thought it’d be weird, he didn’t have any frame of reference for how it felt to walk around with a face like that.
Perhaps he would let Teddy explore his body one day. Usually men only did that when they were horny and couldn’t nab a woman though, and it seemed unlikely that that would ever be a problem for a man like Galeno.
In any case, Teddy had other goals. He was trying to get this nineteen year-old caddy Noah who worked at the club and had a delightfully perfect body. He was much more reasonable. He had as much as said he would let a man jack him off for an X-Box. Teddy just needed to get him alone sometime, and he needed to buy an X-Box so he could make the deal whenever the time was right.
That nineteen year-old didn’t work today though. Teddy would have to wait for next week. Noah might have had a girlfriend now too, which would probably put the kibosh on Teddy’s efforts.
Noah vanished from his mind moments later though, when he saw Carla stumbling out of that disabled bathroom, positively aglow with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hair was a mess — it had been a mess before, but now it looked like birds had built a nest in it. She was dazed, and she didn’t even notice Teddy. It looked like she was still orgasming a little bit, her whole body twitching with every step.
Galeno sat down. “Cup in water, please,” he said. “I am feeling of thirst.” He smacked his chapped lips.
Teddy gave him the water. “So, Galeno… how was it? Was she nice?”
He shrugged, and he flashed a grin that accentuated his dimples. “She was good. Thank you for the business.”
“You’re welcome. Do you…-?”
“Yes, I will be with men as well, but only on top, and I charge fifty percent more,” he said. His accent was noticeably less pronounced when discussing money.
“Oh, so…”
“Three hundred dollars for an hour.”
“Well, shit,” Teddy said. “I’d have never bought you for her if I’d known that. Will you be ready to go again at midnight? That’s when I get off-“
He chuckled. “I am Brazilian. I can go again as soon as you wish,” he said proudly. “We have, eh, the, eh… infinite manhood.”
Teddy blushed and giggled again. This time, his giggles had become flirtatious. Teddy touched Galeno’s bicep through his polo shirt. It flexed under his touch. Galeno smiled, showing off his dimples. Teddy’s knees went weak again.
Then a customer came in, and Teddy had to make a drink. He left Galeno there at the bar. He was so excited he dropped the first glass, heart racing as he looked forward to his little rendezvous with Galeno.
Eventually midnight came, and Galeno had vanished. Teddy was disappointed. He supposed that Galeno probably found a woman — a second woman of the night. Even if he charged men more than women, Galeno would probably always choose a female client over a male.
But still, Teddy was hopeful that he’d land Galeno eventually. Obviously it was within the realm of possibility, he just needed to get the timing right. Really though, that was true of all men. If Teddy got in there at the right time and with the right incentive, any hunk would swing downlow.
The bar gradually emptied out as midnight approached, and then Teddy was alone. He cleaned up, exhausted, disappointed, more tired than he should be because he had been excited about getting it in the ass from a real Brazilian gigolo and now it seemed that wasn’t happening.
But there he was.
Galeno walked into the bar, alone, looking substantially different than before. He had changed out of his fine suit and into a brilliantly colored sleeveless shirt made of something like nylon, below which he wore a pair of shorts that were the same color. They were too short by modern American standards, but they weren’t “short shorts”, they were just old-fashioned, Teddy thought, or foreign — presumably typical of Brazil.
His hair was wet, his skin a little moist, whether from shower water or sweat, Teddy couldn’t tell. He was mesmerized by those deep brown eyes in which he lost himself.
“Hello,” Galeno said. He kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t hear. Galeno ran his fingers through his hair. He lowered his head and kissed Teddy on the lips. He picked Teddy up and walked into the walk-in pantry that was around the corner, near where Carla had been sobbing earlier.
Teddy was dizzy. He had been reconciled to the fact that Galeno wouldn’t be with him, and now here he was. He smelled faintly musky, but with a clean, fruity scent.
He didn’t know that Galeno had done this for him — Galeno had been hired by more than one man over the years, and he knew well how to appeal to them. While women preferred him in a clean suit like a businessman, men preferred him in a skimpy outfit to show off his muscles. Galeno had gone for a quick jog to get good and sweaty, then showered without soap — just rinsed off — so he would be musky while still smelling clean. If he had more time, he would have grown one day’s worth of beard-stubble too and even let his chest sprout a layer of fur. But that would require more than an hour and three hundred dollars.
Teddy felt like the heroine of a romance novel. He rubbed his face against the smooth muscle of Galeno’s bicep, and his fingers danced over Galeno’s chest.
Galeno deposited him in the pantry. It smelled strongly of rice and olive oil, with a tropical scent that was straight out of Brazil — was that the pantry? Or was that Galeno? Teddy didn’t know. He nuzzled Galeno’s chest, his hands roaming under his shirt and lifting it over his head.
Teddy was surprised at how passionate and involved Galeno was. A lot of times when he paid a man to jack off with him, the man acted like he wasn’t involved, like he was just renting his body out for a little while. That was hot; Teddy didn’t mind it.
But Galeno was different. Galeno treated him like a woman who needed to be seduced, showered with kisses and affection. Galeno had no hesitation about kissing a man, it seemed, and his hands even explored Teddy’s body.
That was because Galeno was Brazilian. Like most Brazilian men, Galeno saw himself as so horny, so virile and so masculine that he could be aroused by anyone, and he did not see it as problematic to do anything at all with a man — except get penetrated. He thought nothing of kissing a man on the lips, or even licking that man’s asshole like it was a pussy.
That was what Galeno did. He kissed a trail down Teddy’s slim, pale body, which trembled beneath his touch. Galeno tasted the tender sweetness of his skin, and pulled his pants down.
“Hmmm… You have nice… how do you say… uh… buttocks?” Galeno remembered the word ass, of course, but he knew it was alluring when he pretended to forget English words during the heat of the moment. “It is tasting of sweetness, yes?”
“Yes…” Teddy gasped. He hadn’t expected Galeno to lick his ass. Men didn’t normally do that.
But to Galeno, this was little different than licking a vagina, which he did expertly and often. He enjoyed the harsh funkiness of it, the intense flavor, and the deeply rutting sensation it aroused within him. It was almost enough to get him hard even without a woman in the room.
He lapped at Teddy’s ass until it was good and loose. Then, pulling his face away, Galeno nodded and smiled. Teddy was good and ready, both loose and tight at once. Teddy was on all fours now, and Galeno placed his pinkie finger right there at the entrance to his asshole. He didn’t penetrate him fully, just teased the rim, which made Teddy cry out.
“Hmmmm… you feel so good, my little namorado…” Galeno said breathlessly, aiming his words directly into Teddy’s mouth.
The one thing Galeno didn’t get to do to often was get his dick wet. Few of the women who paid for his services were willing to spend time sucking on his dick.
Galeno kept his finger at Teddy’s ass to keep it open and ready, stretching over Teddy’s back to reach it. That gave Teddy enough room to pop his lips on Galeno’s cock.
“Aaaaaaaaaah…….” Galeno let out a long, cringing moan as soon as Teddy’s lips touched his dick. He could tell that sound excited Teddy, so Galeno did it again and again.
A surge of pleasure hit him. Sometimes messing with Galeno could be clinical; it was a set-menu, a series of practiced actions he could perform in his sleep, each one bringing his clients to new heights of ecstasy. It was nice to do something new for a change, to pleasure somebody different than what he was recently used to. He moaned, glad he could be as loud and as deep as he wanted — that turned off most of the women who paid for his services, but not Teddy.
His cock rocketed to full erection. It tasted clean from his shower, but with that funky aftertaste that Teddy adored. He deep-throated it to the root, letting Galeno plow into his face. Teddy didn’t mind an aggressive dick in his throat, but Galeno, of course, didn’t do that. Galeno casually and caringly humped Teddy’s tongue and the back of his throat.
“Ah, yes, you have such a soft, perfect mouth,” Galeno said with another moan. He guided Teddy’s hand up to feel his nipples, and he flexed his pecs to make Teddy croon.
Finally he felt a few drops of precum hit Teddy’s tongue, which Galeno took as a sign it was time to move on. He quickly pulled Teddy up and had him bend over the shelves of the pantry. Teddy gripped one shelf tightly.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Galeno!”
“Hmmm… Kiss me…” Galeno pulled Teddy’s head to face him, and he planted his lips tightly on Teddy’s. His cock drilled in to Teddy’s tight hole, which was still open because of Galeno’s tongue and finger.
Teddy yelped, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the shelf. Galeno gripped his shoulders and slid his dick in, inch by inch.
This was another matter that was better with men than with women — women rarely chose anal sex, and when they did, they rarely wanted Galeno to fuck hard. They liked a slow, languorous fuck, something they could experience without a single note of discomfort.
Men, however, liked to jack off with force and power.
Galeno wasn’t aggressive, but he was plenty hard. His long hair swayed around his head as he gripped Teddy’s shoulders with one hand, and his hips with the other. He held him in place as he drilled his cock in all the way, until his balls slapped against Teddy’s thighs.
Immediately, Teddy let out a howl as a surge of pleasure wracked his body. He’d never been plowed up the butt quite like this. Galeno seemed to know exactly where his prostate was, and with each thrust of his hips, he stimulated it to a new plateau of intense bliss.
“Oh god, yes!”
Galeno chuckled at the sight of Teddy writhing beneath him. He leaned his head down, rubbing his chest muscles over Teddy’s smooth back. He whispered in Teddy’s ear, “Você está ativado por idiomas estrangeiros, sim?”
Teddy didn’t know what that meant, but he was too overwhelmed by the sensations exploding within him to notice; the sound was too arousing to think, and Galeno’s smooth voice echoed in his mind. He didn’t even realize how long he stood there, leaning against the shelves as he got reamed. He was shocked to learn it was almost midnight when he finally shot his load.
It was an intense and wild orgasm for Teddy, though Galeno was more subdued. Galeno moaned moistly into Teddy’s ear, licking his earlobe. That was enough to send Teddy over the edge at just the right moment for Galeno — who always preferred his men to cum just before Galeno did.
Teddy’s wad sprayed onto the shelf in front of him, making a puddle that sit in front of the trash bags. Galeno kept going, ramming his dick in and out as hard as he could now, since Teddy was wide-open enough to take it.
Creamy cum filled Teddy up, great gobs of it that seeped into his flesh. It was warm and sticky. He could feel it trickling through his body and slipping out into his asscrack.
“Ah, yes, Teddy…” Galeno moaned again. “You feel so sweetly…” He gasped and kissed the back of Teddy’s neck. He hadn’t expected this to feel so good.
But he often thought that after jacking off with men. It was just because they were different, he thought, they felt new and fresh. Plus the women who hired him mostly did so because they had trouble with men — they were too fat, too old, too tall, too stentorian, too mean, and Galeno was able to satisfy them. But feminine men like Teddy were perfectly fine.
So for Galeno, this was almost as intense an orgasm as for Teddy, and he drained a massive load deep into Teddy’s ass. Teddy groaned along with him, then they both fell silent. Galeno sucked on his teeth and kissed Teddy’s head again.
“Yes…” he said with a grunt. He pulled out and Teddy twitched, then fell limp. One final spasm of bliss coursed through both men, who both let out a final rumbling moan of desire.
Teddy giggled as he struggled to stand on weakened knees. He turned around and leaned against Galeno’s chest. He sucked some of the sweat off there. “Hmmm… You taste good, Galeno.”
Galeno nodded. “You have three minutes,” he said.
Teddy smiled and hugged him close. “I better make the best of it.” He looked up at Galeno. “You’re really good at what you do. Are all Brazilian men that good?”
Galeno sniffled and puffed out his chest. “All Brazilian men are better lovers, it is certain. They are better than any man. But I am better than them all.”
Warmth suffused Teddy as he hugged Galeno and smiled, rubbing his face against his chest and stroking his dick for three minutes. By the time he was done, Teddy was already thinking about going to Brazil.