Percy was handsome as hell. He had gray hair, but it was long and shaggy like his grandson, and he was built like a powerhouse despite his age. He was crackly and windswept, and he dressed in baggy shorts and a hip hop tee shirt that looked ridiculous on a man his age. Percy was gruff and mean, that was just his personality. Avery didn’t expect friendliness or charm, nor did he even want it. Percy had a handsome look, and Avery loved muscular men with gray hair like that. Percy looked like an old-fashioned painting of Zeus, with a redneck flair.
He was Junior Dalman, and he was so well-built he filled the doorway like a Greek god. Junior was middle-aged and burly, the owner of a construction company his father had founded. He had a few tinges of gray in his beard, and his hairy chest was visible through his shirt. He kept his hair cut very short, like a military crew-cut, though he was never in the military.
Avery finds himself celebrating Thanksgiving with a family of construction workers, the Dalmans, who one by one let Avery service every inch of their blue-collar meats! Can Avery satisfy the Dalman clan?!
Avery came back to his apartment above the garage after his sister and her family left. He was glad to be alone. Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and he had spent all day with his sister, her husband and their three daughters. It had been excruciatin. While he loved his nieces very much, he did not love spending more than a few hours with them. They were exhausting, annoying, loud and they smelled bad. He had gotten through one whole day though, and he was done with that until Christmas. At least, he thought, he had managed to avoid going to his brother-in-law’s family’s Thanksgiving celebration. That was where the rest of the family was at today, the day after Thanksgiving. The whole family had gone to Redding to see the grandparents. That gave Avery a free day. He lived above the garage, so he didn’t live in the house, but he could go there when he needed to. Today he hung out in his underwear, eating leftovers and watching the big-screen TV his brother-in-law had recently bought. About three o’clock, however, there was a knock on the door. “Hey, man, we’re having a Thanksgiving dinner next door,” said the man in the doorway. He was Junior Dalman, and he was so well-built he filled the doorway like a Greek god. Junior was middle-aged and burly, the co-owner of a construction company his father had founded. He had a few tinges of gray in his beard, and his hairy chest was visible through his shirt. He kept his hair cut very short, like a military crew-cut, though he was never in the military. Avery explained that the family was gone. As it turned out, the Dalmans were doing something similar but in reverse: They had all spent Thanksgiving scattered among various girlfriends, in-laws and others, and now the Dalman men were having their own Thanksgiving the day after. “But, uh, we was supposed to have my ex and her sister and daughters, but they ain’t show up,” Junior said. He scowled a little but didn’t explain why. “So we gonna have lots of extra food fo’ sure.” The only reason Avery agreed is that Junior was handsome, as was Junior’s son, PJ, a college lacrosse star who also did construction work on the side. Avery didn’t really want to go anywhere or do anything today, but he did want to look at the Dalmans. PJ had shaggy blond hair, which he obviously cut himself, all uneven and ratty, a bit greasy but only in a good way. Avery shook his hand, hoping he didn’t look like he had a crush (which he did). PJ’s arm muscles flexed as he shook up and down. Avery smiled and patted PJ on the bicep at the same time, holding back a gasp and moan of desire. His bicep was firm and rock-like. “Hey, man, are you putting money on the game? My money’s on the Raiders,” he said. “Oh, I don’t really watch football,” Avery said. He smiled. “But, uh, I guess if everyone else is, I could put a few bucks on the Raiders. That way I can root with you.” Avery blushed again — he thought that made him sound like a PJ fanboy, which he was. Much to Avery’s surprise, there was only one other person there — Percy Dalman, PJ’s grandfather and Junior’s father. Much to Avery’s even greater surprise, Percy was handsome as hell. He had gray hair, but it was long and shaggy like his grandson, and he was built like a powerhouse despite his age. He was crackly and windswept, and he dressed in baggy shorts and a hip hop tee shirt that looked ridiculous on a man his age. After eating some fruit — a fruit platter had been purchased for the womenfolk, none of whom showed up, so Avery was as feminine as was going to be there all day, and it was up to Avery to eat the fruit — Avery sat down next to PJ. The football game was on, but Avery paid little attention. He cheered when PJ did. Avery paid most of his attention to PJ, who shifted and wiggled on the love-seat they shared. PJ was more than a hundred pounds heavier — solid muscle — than Avery and took up much more space. Avery didn’t mind, and he even found himself sitting there with his arm on the back of the couch, tantalizingly close to hugging PJ’s muscled back. “He’s gonna keep throwing, I can tell,” Percy said with a sneer as the second quarter was about to begin. “Fuckin’ punk, needs to run. They got runners.” “Nah, Pops, running is for pussies,” PJ said with a laugh. “Man, they should always throw-“ “Shut the fuck up, son,” Junior said. “Passing sucks!” “Them’s the Raiders, son! You best believe they know what they’re doing,” Pops said. “There’s history in that franchise-“ “Pops, shut up!” PJ moaned and covered his face. “Hey PJ,” Avery said. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks they run the next play and get a first down.” His gently lilting voice drove the conversation to a halt. PJ paused, then said, “Fine, bro.” “He ain’t got fifty cents, man,” Junior said. “I do so!” PJ said, his voice defensive enough that Avery realized PJ indeed had little money. He might have been telling the truth about having fifty cents, but he wouldn’t be able to pay the bet. That was okay with Avery, who thought he might get something out of today after all. Finally the game resumed, and Avery watched with baited breath — he actually enjoyed lacrosse for once — as the play began. The quarterback handed the ball to a runner. Avery cheered, as did Junior and Percy. Only PJ groaned as the player sprinted up the field, easily getting a first down. PJ leaned back and closed his eyes. “What a fucking idiot, who runs?!” “It’s an important part of the game, jackass. You know until the 50s, it was almost all running? Throwing the ball wasn’t allowed most of the time until the NFL changed the rules,” Percy said. “Well, they knew what they were doing. They got the down.” “You best pay up your fifty dollars,” Junior said with a sneer. PJ blushed. “Well, yeah. I, uh… I might have to owe you on that one.” Avery smiled. He patted PJ on the thigh. “Don’t worry about it-“ PJ shook his head. “I always pay my debts-“ “You mean you get me to pay your debts,” Junior said with an angry snarl. “I always pay my debts, man, I don’t want any charity.” “Except for student loans and your mom paying your tuition and your coach giving you free tutoring and your free health care courtesy of the Democrats-“ “Shut up, Dad,” PJ said. He glared at his father and grandfather, who continued to make faces at each other and laugh. But Avery just patted PJ on the shoulder and said, “Well, I would gladly forgive the debt if you do something for me. I could use a pair of big strong arms for something. Come on next door, I’ll show you.” He nodded. He seemed glad to be away from his dad and grandfather, who still snickered and listed all of the charity that PJ received. Avery wished he could walk behind PJ, so he could watch his gigantic lacrosse-toned ass sway. PJ filled out his jersey and workout shorts well. But PJ was following Avery, since Avery was the one who knew where they were going. He led PJ over to the garage where he lived, and brought him up to his apartment. Then Avery closed the door and grinned at PJ. “So whatcha need, man?” “Well, I thought, instead of paying me fifty dollars,” Avery said. “You let me drop to my knees like this.” He did so. PJ’s eyes opened wide. Avery licked his lips. “And close your eyes. You can just do what comes naturally.” “Oh.” PJ blushed until his cheeks were bright red. “I mean…” “I won’t tell anyone, not even your dad. And I’ll swallow your cum,” Avery said. He inserted a finger into his mouth and sucked on it. “Okay,” PJ said. He blurted it out like he needed to say it before he changed his mind. Then he grunted and mewled a bit, like he had then changed his mind but didn’t want to say it. He nodded again. “Damn, I need a nut, bro.” Avery hurried to pop his cock out. PJ had worn his old workout shorts today because he wasn’t leaving the house, and thought he might play a little touch-football with his dad later. He rarely washed these shorts, so they were funky and sweaty and exactly how Avery liked them. He wore a brand-new jockstrap too, clean and cottony and smelling just enough of balls for Avery. Avery planted his tongue right on PJ’s cocktip, making him gasp. His dick twitched. Avery swallowed it deeply, until his nose teased PJ’s pubic hair. “Damn, bro… You can’t tell anyone about this, man, especially not my dad. Or my granddad!” His dick stiffened up, and PJ gasped. He didn’t think this would happen so quickly. Now he got more and more worried his father would find out. Would it be obvious he had just gotten his nut off when he got back to the house? It felt so good it was almost painful, and it was definitely awkward. PJ knew how to act around women, but he just flailed and grunted and shook as he raced straight to an orgasm in Avery’s mouth. Pleasure shuddered up his muscles, and his knees went weak. “Ah, shit, man!” PJ gripped Avery’s head and held on, jutting his hips forward to ram his cock all the way down his throat. Creamy hot cum filled Avery’s belly and coated his throat. It was salty and sweet and delicious, and Avery moaned, craving more. A long flow of it coated his gullet. Avery slurped down every drop, as his hands massaged the meaty thighs of PJ’s body. PJ was young and virile, so he shot a huge load, giving Avery plenty of thick cum that seeped into his belly. Avery moaned and kept licking until PJ couldn’t take it anymore and took his dick away. “Damn, bro, you really got enthusiasm for dick,” PJ said, blushing, wide-eyed. None of his girlfriends had ever really liked sucking cock — he wouldn’t have thought that was true a few minutes ago, but now that he got it from Avery, he knew his girlfriends were never enthusiastic like Avery was right now. He thwacked his limp dick over Avery’s face (which no girl ever let him do). Then it was all done. PJ was glad. He took a deep breath. His face was ruddy and sweaty. His dick dangled, shorts still around his ankles. He was too exhausted to do much, so Avery pulled his jockstrap and shorts up for him. PJ gasped and giggled a little, nervously, when Avery touched his sensitive cock and balls. “Tell them you helped me put together a bookshelf,” Avery said, pointing to the bookshelf he had just put together yesterday (he had needed to get his brother-in-law to hold some stuff in place while he screwed it together). “It was heavy enough you’re a little red-faced and out-of-breath.” “Are you gonna tell them…? They’ll call me a pussy if they find out.” “No. It’s our secret,” Avery said. “I promise.” PJ nodded, still too embarrassed to really say much. Finally on the way back to the house, PJ said, “I can’t believe you just jacked me off like that, bro. That was so weird.” Avery laughed. “Yeah.” When they got back in the house, PJ’s heart thumped, certain his father or grandfather would guess what had happened. The game had resumed, however, and they barely even acknowledged that PJ was gone. They never asked what he had done. PJ breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down and resumed cheering on the Raiders. This time, PJ sat on the chair, instead of the loveseat. Avery sat by himself, wondering if he could sit in the center of the couch instead — he’d be crammed in between Junior and Percy, probably close enough to them he could feel their armhair and smell their chests. It was enough to make his mouth water. When his cell phone rang, Junior stood up. He had a serious frown on his face. “Damn it, it’s Charlie, if he calls out tomorrow, I will rip his goddamn head off.” He walked away, into the kitchen. Just a few moments later, the sound of Junior angrily hissing into the phone could be heard. The other two ignored it, but Avery found it increasingly awkward, especially when Junior’s voice got loud enough that his words were audible. “No, fuck you, you drunk bastard! ‘I wanna get real drunk tonight’ is not a good reason to call out sick-” Junior fumed. “Then don’t get that drunk, Charlie! It’s not responsible to plan on getting so drunk you can’t drive the next morning — oh, then tell the state police, they’ll give you a plaque! Maybe they’ll give you a job too, a job where ‘a strong desire to get drunk’ is an acceptable excuse to call out from work! Then don’t bother sobering up for Monday!” He threw his cell phone against the wall, then cursed himself and put the battery back in the compartment. Avery got up. The game was in an exciting moment (or so Avery assumed since PJ and Percy were deeply engrossed; every moment of football was equally boring to Avery) and the others didn’t really notice him go into the kitchen. Junior paced there, square jaw working as he chewed on his lower lip. He rubbed his stubbled face and nodded at Avery. “Sorry, man, I got this worker…” “You seem frustrated,” Avery said. He sighed. “Yeah. It ain’t even… I really wish my ex had shown up. We’ve been gettin’ along. I thought maybe…” “You thought maybe she’d treat you right?” “Nothing’s going right right now,” he said. “If I don’t get the concrete poured for that school tomorrow, it won’t be ready in time for next week.” “You poor baby… You should relax though,” Avery said. “Stressing out won’t solve anything.” Junior grunted. He still mostly ignored Avery, standing there flipping through his phone as though additional workers might have inserted themselves in there. Avery grabbed Junior’s cock through his dingy work khakis. Junior looked up and his eyes opened wide. “What’re you…?” Avery frowned. “I hate seeing people stressed on holidays,” he said. “And I bet you were hoping that ex-wife of yours would give up the booty.” Avery turned around and raised his ass, aiming it towards Junior’s crotch. “But maybe I can take her place?” “Shit…” Junior glanced back at the living room. He grabbed Avery’s hips and dragged him to the other side of the kitchen, where they were blocked by the center island. No one could see Avery without being right there next to Junior. Avery dropped his jeans and rammed his ass back towards Junior’s crotch. His dick was still soft, but it twitched through the fabric of his khakis when Avery’s ass touched it. “Shit…” Junior said again. He sighed like he didn’t want to do this, like it was a big imposition. He even glanced towards the living room and considered saying no. But his cock was hard, and he wasn’t about to turn down some booty. Nobody, he thought, would know. He unzipped his khakis and let a thick, veiny cock flop out. It was big like PJ’s but less smooth and more tan. Avery didn’t mind that at all. He rubbed his ass over the shaft of Junior’s limp cock, while Junior looked away, seemingly pretending this wasn’t happening. He closed his eyes as his cock firmed up. “Hmm, stick it in me,” Avery said. He lined his ass up with Junior’s cock and pushed back. As soon as he got started, Junior found his hands moving on instinct. He grabbed Avery’s ass and held on. It twitched and trembled until it turned rock-hard, throbbing against the surface of Avery’s asshole with every pulse of Junior’s heart. “Open up, boy,” Junior said with a grunt. He drilled his dick in. He had a nice big cock, enough that Avery had to struggle to bring it all in. He pushed when he felt resistance, and Avery had to focus on not crying out. He whimpered as Junior slammed into him. Finally he was all the way in. His cock throbbed as Avery adjusted. It took all of Avery’s focus to just take a breath. “Here I go, boy, take that dick,” Junior murmured. “Say yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.” Avery struggled to speak softly. “Yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.” Junior grunted right into Avery’s ear as he orgasmed. His knees buckled, and he went to the ground with Avery, wrapping his powerful arms around Avery’s body and holding him right. The pressure and pain in his ass were intense, but Avery loved every moment of it. Cum filled him up, great creamy gobs of it that spread to every corner of Avery’s insides. It flowed over his prostate and dripped out onto the floor of Junior’s kitchen. Avery moaned, which would have made a loud sound but his pleasure was so intense it ended up being a breathless, voiceless moan. “Shit,” Junior said, his cock limpening now. He stayed on top of Avery though, squirming and grinding his dick in deeper. That caused his cumload to turn into a big frothy mess that made a puddle on the floor. It felt so good Avery couldn’t breathe. Finally Junior pulled out. He stood. He wrinkled his nose. “How was that, boy?” “Hmmm…” Avery moaned. His whole body shook as the aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body. “Clean up that mess you made,” Junior said. He tossed a roll of paper towels to Avery, whose knees were weak and wobbly as he bent over to do as he was told. Junior watched him until he was done, then made him take the cummy paper towels out to the trash can in the driveway. “Don’t you dare tell no one. My pops would blow a lid, and my son would tease me forever.” “Sure. It’s my secret,” Avery said before following him back out into the living room. He hadn’t been in there very long before it erupted in cheers. The Raiders had scored. PJ and Percy whooped and hollered so loud it rattled the picture-frames on the wall. PJ took his shirt off and pounded on his chest. Avery just grinned and watched the sweat roll between his pecs and his shoulder blades. A few minutes later was precisely five o’clock. Percy’s phone beeped. He took it out and peered at the screen, taking several minutes to determine how to turn the beeping off. “Damn piece of shit,” he said when it was finally off. “I gotta do some FaceCall. You got FaceCall on your computer?” Junior looked at his dad like he was crazy. “Yeah. FaceCall? Dad, that’s a computer thing.” “I know, moron, why do you think I asked about your computer?” PJ said, “You hate computers, Grampa. You-“ “I know what I hate, boy!” Percy said. His wrinkled face frowned. “I need to do a FaceCall!” “I can do that, Percy,” Avery said. “My computer’s all set up for it.” “Yeah, do his FaceCall,” Junior said. The game was back on, and he turned back to watch it. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I’ll do a FaceCall on yours.” “You don’t ‘do a FaceCall’, Pops, you just FaceCall with someone,” PJ said with a snicker. But Percy ignored him and followed Avery back out to his home. This time they didn’t go to the apartment above the garage. Avery let him into the main house where there was a big high-res computer screen to use. He showed Percy how to connect to the person he was meeting up with. Percy was gruff and mean, that was just his personality. Avery didn’t expect friendliness or charm, nor did he even want it. Percy had a handsome look, and Avery loved muscular men with gray hair like that. Percy looked like an old-fashioned painting of Zeus, with a redneck flair. It was a woman. On the FaceCall. She was pretty in her own late-fifties way, with long hair that Avery was certain was a wig. She was demure and quiet, in stark contrast to Percy’s gruffness. “How you doin’, baby? How was the family? Ya grandson still an ungrateful prick? Uh-huh.” Avery backed away to give them privacy. He had to suppress a giggle because Percy was like a mean dog who turned submissive around a child. He smiled and laughed and told the woman compliments. He offered to beat up her ungrateful grandson. He ended by telling her he loved her — he used hushed tones and made sure Avery wasn’t looking that way before he said it. Finally the FaceCall was done. Percy cursed at it for a minute before Avery came over to turn it off for him. Then Percy stood and glared at him. “I’s expectin’ you’ll want a little lovin’ now, huh, boy?” Avery blushed. “Well…” “C’mon. In the bathroom.” He went to the tiny half-bath attached to the kitchen. “We got the whole house,” Avery said. “No one’s here. We don’t have to go into the bathroom-“ “You think I do this shit anywhere else? You makin’ me do somethin’ nasty, we gonna do it in a nasty place,” he said. He grabbed Avery by the arm. Avery bumped into him and discovered he had a firm hardon. “I’m not making you do it-“ “Shut the fuck up, I gotta pay you for doing that FaceCall, right?” “Well, it wasn’t my computer, it’s my brother-in-law’s, but he doesn’t pay per FaceCall or anything. It doesn’t cost him any money-“ “Shut the fuck up, I know you want it. You’re begging me for it,” he said with a snarl. He shoved Avery into the bathroom. “I only do it in males one way, just so you know. I’ll slam you jail-style. You’ll like it, they always do.” Avery giggled. It was obvious Percy wanted this real bad but didn’t want to say that. So Avery played hard to get. “I don’t know…” he said with a feminine lilt to his voice. “Shut up, I know you just playin’. Swishy sweets like you wanna get they ass plowed. It’s what they do,” Percy said. “And I seen you checking out my grandson. Don’t go attemptin’ after him.” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” “He wouldn’t anyway, young’uns is prudish these days. Now I won’t do nothin’ tricksy, so don’t even try that,” Percy said. “I am strictly on top, boy. Don’t you even think ‘bout making me touch your dick.” “Of course not,” Avery said. He was about to drop to his knees when Percy grabbed his chin and lifted his head an inch or so. Then he planted his lips on Avery’s. Avery was so shocked he didn’t react at first. He thought he must have misunderstood something. Then he kissed Percy back, but when their tongues interlocked, Percy pushed him away. In seconds, Avery was on his knees on all fours, his pants around his ankles. Percy let out a bestial growl as he took his own cock out. He was uncut and meaty, bigger than the other two, rougher and cruder too, like a caveman’s cock, full of veins and even a scar running along the top. Percy kissed him again from behind, his lips running up and down Avery’s face and neck. Avery moaned. His asshole twitched as Percy’s cock rubbed against it. Then Percy drilled his dick in, just the tip at first. Percy noticed a fluid in there, which he would have realized was his son’s cum if he had stopped to think about it, but he just assumed it was lube and it didn’t occur to him that Avery hadn’t used any lube. He grunted and Avery bit his lip. “C’mon, boy, lemme in. Beg me for it. Say you want it. Say you need it.” “I need you inside me, stick it in me, Percy. Fill my ass!” Avery cried out. He was shocked again, moments later, when Percy reached around Avery’s body and grabbed his cock. To Percy, this was the proper way to do a man’s ass — Avery had assumed “jail-style” meant rough and violent, which it did, to a certain degree. But when Percy was in jail, he had gradually lost most of his inhibitions; he and his fellow rednecks formed a gang with a few men to use as toys, but they had only agreed to it if Percy and the others treated them like girlfriends. So Percy had come to love giving a reacharound so he could feel his bottom orgasming. He didn’t care about stroking a man off, that didn’t even feel weird to him. He was on top, after all, so that didn’t feel good, it just made his bottom orgasm and Percy loved that, “Gonna get deep inside ya, boy, don’t fight it, just open up and let it happen…” Avery could do little more than writhe and beg for more. Percy pounded his ass, kissed his cheek, held his neck with one muscled arm and weighed down his back, so Avery was pinned. His arms gripped the wall of the bathroom as he struggled to take every inch of Percy’s manhood. “Shit, boy, take it!” Percy spat vituperously into Avery’s ear. Avery opened his ass as much as he could, letting Percy pound away. His cock was better than the others in the family. Avery wondered if it had always been that way, or if Percy had grown better over time. Maybe the other two would be just as good once they got to Percy’s age. When Avery orgasmed, he shot his wad all over Percy’s hand, and his asshole clenched. That was what Percy was waiting for. He had always interpreted that as love when his jail-cell wife did it. He loved the feel of bringing a bottom to orgasm through ramming into his ass with all his might. It made Percy feel so powerful his muscles all flexed and he could forget about all the kissing and jacking off he’d been doing. “Goddamn… you got nice ass…” Percy said, throwing his head back and crying out. Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass. Percy kissed him again on the lips, continuing to stroke his limpening dick as he shot the most massive wad of the day into Avery’s body. He kept going, making a huge mess just like his son had, turning his wad into a cummy froth that coated Percy’s low-hanging balls. Finally he was done, and he pulled out. Unlike his son, Percy didn’t make Avery clean up. Under prison rules, clean-up was the top’s responsibility. “Stay there, boy,” he said. He found some napkins and wiped up Avery’s ass, and the mess on the floor. “Good. Did you like that, boy?” “Yes! Oh god, yes,” Avery said. He stood up on weakened knees. “Can I have another kiss?” Percy frowned and furrowed his brow. “No. It’s nasty to kiss a man. I kissed ya before on account of my dick was in ya guts, boy. Ain’t nothin’ nasty ‘bout demolishin’ some butt.” He chuckled. “Don’t you try and kiss me, I’ll kick your ass.” Avery blushed. “Okay, fine.” He giggled. “I think it’s about time for dinner.” “Reckon so,” Percy said. He took a deep breath. “You best not tell no one. My boy and grandson, they don’t know ‘bout this shit. They’re squeamish as hell.” Avery smiled. “Yeah, sure.” They headed towards the house next-door. “I’m glad I got to celebrate Thanksgiving over here,” Avery said. “I have a lot to be thankful for.”
A pounding rhythm filled the air, emanating from Avery’s niece’s little boombox back in the main house. That helped Jeff a lot, and he danced around the room for a few seconds to get into the rhythm of it. Avery watched his back muscles writhe. “You ready?” Jeff asked, flashing his dimples. He backed up to Avery, who was still seated so Jeff’s ass was around his face level. Avery’s cock rocketed to attention. The fact that Jeff hadn’t prepared to strip today actually made this more arousing — dirty basketball shorts were more alluring, Avery thought, than contrived stripper clothes. The faint layer of chest hair that hadn’t been shaved yet even extended over his shoulder. His natural musk was only barely covered up by deodorant — he no doubt wore cologne when he stripped, but he assumed no one would notice through the fatsuit. All those things turned Avery on more than any polished Hollywoodized stripper. His asscheeks flexed, one after the other, in front of Avery’s face. Avery inhaled deeply of the sweaty scent and moaned loudly, and the awkwardness of the situation made him chuckle. That made Jeff laugh too — it was clearly forced, he was in agreeable-stripper-mode — and Avery even tried to tease those shorts down before Jeff batted his hands away. “No touching the stripper,” Jeff said.
This Santa was more handsome than he had any right to be. He had a thick shock of black hair, a square jaw and deep, dark eyes, and broad shoulders partially visible around the shower curtain. He looks like the hero on the cover of a fantasy novel, Avery thought to himself. He sent a shiver up Avery’s spine. The man — the Santa — was sturdy like a mountain, with big lips and skin the color of vanilla ice cream on his bare chest, which was untanned. Jeff wore dingy old basketball shorts, sneakers and little else, aside from a dog tag. There was a military-looking tattoo on his bicep as well, a bald eagle flying with a rifle in its talons. His chest was broad and strapping, with well-worked muscles that you could tell didn’t come from a gym.
When Santa comes by to entertain at a party, Avery assumed he’d be busy all night. But a need for a clean shirt brings Santa to Avery’s den, where this studly Santa just might let Avery take a swing on his jolly meat. Can Avery handle Santa’s manhood?
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Avery loved his nieces. They were beautiful little girls, and he wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But he did not want to attend their Christmas party. It sounded boring, and not only that, but since Avery was a cool, funny, outgoing uncle, his nieces would mob him, demanding he do silly voices and give them piggyback rides as soon as he got there. It was, unfortunately, difficult to avoid because Avery lived above the garage at the same house as his sister, her husband and their three daughters. So he was invited, and he heard the little girls running around excitedly with their friends (the idea of spending time with more than a dozen little girls sounded exhausting, just thinking about it made Avery want to take a nap). That was, after all, the nice thing about not having kids — you didn’t have to spend time with them when you didn’t feel like it. Today was definitely a day when Avery didn’t feel like it. But it would be rude not to go at all. It was the day before Christmas Eve after all. He needed to make an appearance. He decided to bring his Christmas presents for the girls. They were all wrapped and ready to go, so he could put them under the tree and his nieces would forget that he wasn’t at the party — the only thing they would remember was that Uncle Avery had brought them their presents. He was just about to head down there when he saw a ramshackle Chevrolet pull up outside. It was powder blue but speckled with gray flecks and the passenger-side door had been replaced with a red one from a different car. A man in a Santa costume got out and headed for the door. He walked with a swagger-heavy gait, but he stopped and steeled himself before knocking on the door. He plastered a jolly smile on his face. Avery put his presents down. He didn’t want to compete for attention with a Santa. He scoffed — when his sister first got pregnant, she said that she was not going to fritter away money on nonsense, and here she was throwing a child’s Christmas party (which isn’t even a tradition) and hire a Santa for it, when they could just go to the mall and do the same thing for nearly free. Sounds like money frittered away on nonsense to me. But then, Avery’s sister had also sworn that she wouldn’t buy her daughters “girls’s toys”, and that lasted until her eldest daughter was old enough to ask for specific toys. Avery’s sister had sworn she wouldn’t let them wear makeup until they were sixteen, and they started playing with makeup last year, when the youngest was only eight. Not that Avery really cared about any of these things, he just thought it was funny that his big tough sister’s resolve failed when her daughters batted their eyelashes and asked nicely. She never could tell them no. Eventually Avery stopped hearing the Santa’s ho-ho-ho — whoever it was, he had a great deep booming Santa-voice — and heard the now-familiar tune of the Frozen soundtrack. Let it go, let it go. Wish they could let Frozen go. He went downstairs and headed over to the main house. That must mean the Santa was done. Avery hadn’t seen him leave yet and his car was still out front, but the Santa show seemed to be finished. Avery could hang out with the adults until the movie was over, then make a big deal of bringing the girls’s presents to the tree. It wouldn’t take very long, and he’d look awesome in front of his nieces. Avery’s sister and a few other moms were in the kitchen. He came through to say hello. The girls sang along to the movie in the other room. Santa was nowhere to be seen. Avery wanted to find out if his physique was as grand as it had seemed from the window. It was hard to be sure given the fat suit and the distance. “Oh, hi, Avery, merry Christmas.” “Merry Christmas!” “Happy holidays!” Groans emanated from some of the other moms. Avery wasn’t interested in quibbling over “holidays” vs “Christmas”, so he just smiled and nodded and small-talked with them until he thought he had done enough. Nobody really was interested in him anyway. Uncle Avery was not the star of Christmas, Santa was. “What happened to Santa?” “Oh, the girls got a little over-excited. There was some throw-up,” Avery’s sister said with a wry smile. “He’s taking a shower.” “A merry, jolly North Pole shower!?” “No, a normal shower in our bathroom,” she said. The other moms giggled. “I think he might need some men’s clothes, something to wear under the Santa suit. Probably just a t-shirt or something. Do you have anything? You know… that might fit him?” She was a little awkward because her tremendously overweight husband was in the next room, watching football. He pretended he wasn’t sensitive about his weight, but he was. “Your husband’s clothes…? I just thought… You know… Santa?” Avery pantomimed a large belly. “Oh no, this Santa’s not fat. He’s got a fatsuit on,” said one of the other moms. “I think he might be… He’s a well-formed young man.” The women all giggled, the same sound their daughters were generating in the next room. He went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. The shower was running, so he opened the door just a crack. “Hey, uh, I live above the garage, man, do you need some clothes?! I can give you some of mine if you need it!” The shower turned off. “What?” A man’s face appeared poking through the shower curtain. “Oh, hi, I’m Avery…” His voice trailed off because this Santa was more handsome than he had any right to be. He had a thick shock of black hair, a square jaw and deep, dark eyes, and broad shoulders partially visible around the shower curtain. He looks like the hero on the cover of a fantasy novel, Avery thought to himself. He sent a shiver up Avery’s spine. The man — the Santa — was sturdy like a mountain, with big lips and skin the color of vanilla ice cream on his bare chest, which was untanned. “Uh… Hi, Avery,” he said. “I’m Jeff.” “Hi.” Avery blushed. “Uh… My sister said you got thrown up on? Did you need some clothes? They uh… They said you might fit in my clothes, but… They don’t know men’s sizes I guess. What are you, like six and a half feet tall?” “Almost.” He smiled, flashing deep dimples. “I’m six-four.” “Cool. Cool.” Avery blushed even deeper. “Sorry, I, uh… Did you want to come look at my clothes? I might have something that fits you.” “Uh, yeah, thanks, I really just need a t-shirt. That fat suit is uncomfortable without a shirt on underneath, and my shirt is vomity. I just need something I can get on, you know, it doesn’t have to fit right.” “Okay, well, come on over to the garage then,” Avery said. “I’ll go see what the biggest shirt I have is.” He felt giddy as he hurried out to the garage again. He was beginning to think that Santa was a potential conquest. He knew exactly what his biggest t-shirt was, because a different conquest had left it here after a July 4 party. The fireworks man had left his sweaty t-shirt here. It was about four sizes too big for Avery. It would probably be a bit big for Jeff too, but not cavernously large like Avery’s brother-in-law’s shirts would be. Avery hid it at the bottom of his dresser drawer so he wouldn’t accidentally “find” it before he had a chance to work on Jeff. There was a knock at the door. Avery let Jeff in, his jaw agape — Jeff wore dingy old basketball shorts, sneakers and little else, aside from a dog tag. There was a military-looking tattoo on his bicep as well, a bald eagle flying with a rifle in its talons. His chest was broad and strapping, with well-worked muscles that you could tell didn’t come from a gym. “Oh, are you a soldier?” “Not anymore. I’m a vet. I got out of the Army last year,” he said. “And now you bring presents to all the children at Christmas? That’s super,” Avery said. He started to make a show of looking through his own shirts, all of which were way too small for Jeff’s broad shoulders and chest. He smiled. “I’m actually… Don’t tell your sister this, some people don’t like the idea of children’s entertainers who are… well, I’m a stripper,” he said. “That’s what I was doing until Christmas. Still am, but Santa gigs pay better now, and anyway I can do kids parties during the day and still strip at night.” “Oh, that is so cool! You have a great body, you should be a stripper! I’d have suggested it if you didn’t say it!” He grinned wanly. “Yeah, well… so if you know anyone who, uh… They don’t gotta be ladies.” He grimaced and blushed. “Oh? What does that mean?” “I mean, I do dude parties, if you want. I’m not… I can tell you prolly don’t spend a lotta time with women. You might know some guys who would hire me, y’know, at a party… Well, I rub my dick on guys’s faces, that’s you know, pretty much, if they want that. I don’t do any of, you know… the… I dance. I’m a good dancer,” he said. He blushed. “That’s all. I’m a good dancer.” Avery sat down in his computer chair. He withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and tucked it into the waistband of Jeff’s shorts. “Prove it.” Jeff blushed a little deeper red. He looked around. Avery got the feeling he had never given a man a lapdance outside of a crowded party. But Jeff took a deep breath and snapped his hips to one side, making his massive cock shake and bulge in the shorts he wore. He clearly didn’t have on any underwear beneath that. A pounding rhythm filled the air, emanating from Avery’s niece’s little boombox back in the main house. That helped Jeff a lot, and he danced around the room for a few seconds to get into the rhythm of it. Avery watched his back muscles writhe. “You ready?” Jeff asked, flashing his dimples. He backed up to Avery, who was still seated so Jeff’s ass was around his face level. Avery’s cock rocketed to attention. The fact that Jeff hadn’t prepared to strip today actually made this more arousing — dirty basketball shorts were more alluring, Avery thought, than contrived stripper clothes. The faint layer of chest hair that hadn’t been shaved yet even extended over his shoulder. His natural musk was only barely covered up by deodorant — he no doubt wore cologne when he stripped, but he assumed no one would notice through the fatsuit. All those things turned Avery on more than any polished Hollywoodized stripper. His asscheeks flexed, one after the other, in front of Avery’s face. Avery inhaled deeply of the sweaty scent and moaned loudly, and the awkwardness of the situation made him chuckle. That made Jeff laugh too — it was clearly forced, he was in agreeable-stripper-mode — and Avery even tried to tease those shorts down before Jeff batted his hands away. “No touching the stripper,” Jeff said. Avery was expecting that. He slipped a hundred dollar bill into Jeff’s hand. “Oh, well… Thanks,” Jeff said. He blushed. Avery dove his face between Jeff’s buttcheeks. He inhaled deeply and licked the fabric of those shorts. Jeff grunted and laughed with a nervous tremor to his voice. “I bet you could use more money,” Avery said. He pulled down Jeff’s shorts, revealing perfectly plump, pink cheeks. He kissed each one, making Jeff yelp and laugh again. Avery smiled. “How about two hundred dollars?” “For what?” “Stick it in me. Treat me like a woman,” Avery said. He patted Jeff on the left asscheek. Jeff turned around. He covered his bare crotch with both hands, shorts around his ankles. With his arms over the center of his body, his pecs were bunched together, making Avery so horny he wanted to burst. “What?!” “Oh come on, don’t tell me I’m the first guy to offer!” He shrugged. “Well, uh… No, I guess you’re not. But you’re the first one to be serious! They, uh… I mean, at parties they make jokes, but…” Avery giggled. “Oh, Jeff… What do they teach you in the Army? I can assure you those guys were serious. They made it like a joke because you were more comfortable that way. It meant you could say no and not get awkward, you could just shrug it off. If you said yes, they would pay you.” “They would?” “Well, I can’t vouch for all of them. I’m sure some would trick you and not pay. You gotta use some discretion,” Avery said. “But I’ll definitely pay you.” “Oh… Uh… Okay. Yeah, fine,” he said. He closed his eyes. “Whatever. Fine. Yeah. I’ll do it. You gotta hurry though, they’re gonna want me back there when Frozen is done.” “Well, then get to dancing,” Avery said. Jeff took a deep breath and resumed his strip show. He shook his ass in front of Avery’s face, then turned around — his shorts were already around his ankles, so there wasn’t much stripping in this strip show. He simply wasn’t wearing enough clothes to strip. But he did dance. He had a nice hefty cock that flopped between his legs. Avery switched the house music to a techno-Christmas album, and Jeff danced to a dubstep version of “Little Drummer Boy”. He even air-drummed like a drummer boy, and the sight of his bulging biceps made Avery’s dick so hard it was about to burst. He beckoned Jeff, who gulped and approached. Avery grabbed his cock. Jeff winced and closed his eyes. He stood there with his hands on his hips, as far away from Avery’s chair as he could be while still being close enough for Avery to grab his dick. Avery pulled. Jeff came closer, and closed his eyes again when his cock disappeared down Avery’s throat. “Ah… alright…” Jeff grunted. As soon as he began, he seemed to lose a lot of his inhibitions — many guys reacted that way, as though they thought a man’s mouth was going to be painful and were surprised when it felt way better than they expected. Jeff’s face was bright red. “Wow, okay… You, uh… you get pretty deep on that.” Avery already knew that, but he liked to hear it again. He rammed his nose all the way down deep in Avery’s crotch, nuzzling his pubic hair — which was mostly shaved. He inhaled deeply of that masculine musk. In no time, Jeff’s cock was rock-hard and throbbing in Avery’s mouth. Jeff gasped and writhed. He moved like he hadn’t blown a nut in a long time, and it took every ounce of concentration to keep himself from blowing a load embarrassingly quickly. Wanting to feel that shaft all the down his throat, Avery dragged Jeff’s hands up to his head. But Jeff just seemed to think he had to be gentle, and he let go of Avery’s scalp. “You can ram it into my throat,” Avery said, wiping up all that drool that dripped past his lips. He licked Jeff’s cockshaft, making his whole body shake as Jeff moaned. “Oh… I, uh… I don’t know… I mean, I know what, uh, but uh…” Jeff blushed. “I don’t know how…” “What? Really? Don’t you and your fellow soldiers spend your leave banging whores? Don’t tell me you make sweet love to them and lick their pussies all night long?” “Ew, no! No way! I don’t do that, man! No way! I don’t do prostitutes!” he looked genuinely shocked. “I mean, some guys in my unit… I’m not like that, man. You can be discharged for that. They’ll court-martial you in a heartbeat. I’m not into… I’m Christian, okay? I mean… things are different now. It was… I’m only doing this for the money. It’s not lust. That’s a sin.” He paused and bit his lip. “It’s not greed either, okay? It’s… It just makes fiscal sense. I can make more money this time of year if — nevermind, I don’t have to prove anything to you.” “That’s right, quit talking and stick your dick in my throat!” A strangled choking moan escaped from Jeff’s lips as he drilled his dick down Avery’s throat. He gasped and gulped. Jeff’s throat was somehow louder than Avery’s, even as Avery gagged uncontrollably and allowed his throat to be drilled. Jeff may have been too nice to ever really ram it in anyone before, but he was tough enough and macho enough that it came easily to him. In no time, his balls swung against Avery’s chin, and Jeff grunted while precum flowed like a river down Avery’s throat. That creamy, salty taste made Avery moan. This was already shaping up to be his best Christmas encounter ever, and it wasn’t even Christmas Eve yet. “Okay, I’m gonna bust in a minute…” Jeff said. He pulled away. His face was bright red. His hands flailed above his spasming cock as he struggled to avoid blowing his load just yet. Avery watched and giggled. Precum flowed thickly down his shaft, and Avery licked it off, making Jeff shake like he was in pain. Then Avery turned around and lifted his ass in the air. The sight of a man’s ass seemed to make Jeff’s erection die just a little bit, enough to bring him back from the bring of orgasm anyway. He hyperventilated as he approached Avery’s ass. He grimaced and wedged his dick between Avery’s cheeks. “Okay, I, uh… I’ve never done this,” he said. “So you gotta tell me if I’m doing it wrong.” “Sure thing, baby,” Avery said. He paused. “Wait, does that mean you have messed with a man’s mouth before?” He chuckled. “It wasn’t my fault. She was dressed like a woman. I mean, he was dressed like a woman. The guys in my unit said they had all gotten blowjobs from her. But it was just a prank. It was a dark alley,” he said. “I didn’t notice she was, you know… a he.” He sounded defense. “He had tits that looked so real. They were just falsies. Ah…” Jeff gasped at the sight of his cocktip already in Avery’s ass. He had been so focused on telling Avery about the non-woman that he didn’t even notice that Avery had already gotten him started. Jeff bucked his hips and smiled at the feel of Avery’s tight ass squeezing around his cock. One of Avery’s hands wrapped around his own dick, while he lowered his head and raised his ass. The sound of little girls screaming filled the air outside — Frozen must be finished. “We better hurry for real then,” Avery said. He slammed his ass back, grimacing as most of Jeff’s cock slipped in. Jeff gasped. He had a big enough cock that he wasn’t used to anyone taking his entire shaft so easily. He was still so shocked and overwhelmed by all that was happening that Jeff did little more than stand there. His rock-hard dick filled Avery’s ass up, but all of the motion came from Avery sliding back and forth. Avery didn’t mind — he enjoyed being a power bottom, and it was funny to watch a big macho soldier like Jeff react with such intense anxiety. Jeff watched his cock disappear inside Avery with his eyes wide open, as though he was constantly surprised and elated that his manhood wasn’t chopped off inside Avery’s body. It was only right before his orgasm hit him that Jeff finally relaxed. He grimaced and gripped Avery by the hip with one hand, and by the shoulder with the other. He held on tight and slammed his dick in one time. He grunted loudly. “Oh fuck, don’t move, man, don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” he said over and over like he was panicking. Then he moved quickly, gyrating his hips and plowing Avery’s ass hard. He groaned and grunted. His whole body twisted, muscles all flexing at once. He collapsed onto the ground atop Avery, his heavy Army muscles writhing above Avery’s head. He pistoned his hips a few more times, humping his dick deep in Avery’s ass in sync with the pounding bass beat of the stripper-music that still hadn’t ended. Hot cum flowed into Avery’s ass, huge arcing jets of it that crept through Avery’s body. The warmth of his cum spread on his skin and through his veins, flowing throughout his body until Avery could feel and taste creamy cum over every inch of him. Avery shot his own load as well, getting most of it on the floor. Jeff didn’t seem to notice. He kept on pumping his own wad deep into Avery’s ass, ending only when he got every last drop out. Jeff sighed. A wave of pleasure like melted butter exploded throughout Avery’s body, and he cried out, only to stifle the noise. He gasped. His whole body twitched and squirmed. It was clear Jeff felt something similar, his muscles rippled where they pressed against Avery’s smooth back. His square-jawed face turned tense and red, and he plowed into Avery’s ass so hard it sent a jolt of pain accompanying the ecstasy that wracked Avery’s frame. Then, all at once, they both collapsed into a sweaty heap. Still though, Jeff’s cock was in Avery’s ass, pulsating. A few final drops of creamy jizz hit Avery’s insides, and the heat of his load seeped into Avery’s flesh. “Wow,” he said. “Daaaang…” He was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by Avery’s cell phone dinging to say he had gotten a text message. He lifted his upper body off, and he wiped a layer of sweat from his broadly muscled chest. Overwhelmed by the pressure in his ass, Avery struggled to pick up the phone. Jeff didn’t move yet, just kept his limpening dick inside Avery’s tight ass. His hot breath condensed on the back of Avery’s neck. He is santa not yr playtoy bring him back girls want santa. Gross. “My sister says you need to go back. The girls want Santa,” Avery said. He nodded and pulled away. Potent relief flooded Avery, who sighed and sprawled out on the floor. He lazily wrote out a check for Jeff before typing a response to his sister. Jeff sighed too, and then he wiped his dick clean with a wad of tissues from the box beside the bed. Don’t be jealous sis. His cum tastes like peppermint so it is still holiday-appropriate. Deck yr own halls. Jeff hurriedly got dressed again. He had put the fatsuit in the garage, so he walked out of Avery’s apartment above it wearing just those shorts again, putting on Avery’s t-shirt as he went. “Thanks!” he called out. “No. Thank you,” Avery said. “Can you bring those presents there over?” he pointed to the pile in the corner. “They’re for my nieces. Tell them they’re early presents from the North Pole. Or whatever, make up your own story.” “Yeah, sure, good idea.” He seemed relieved — that would explain where he was, it was a good excuse. He didn’t know Avery’s sister had already guessed what was happening. She knew how Avery rolled. “See you later, Jeff. Remember — those dudes are not joking. You can make money letting them swing on your dick. Good money.” He blushed with the undersized t-shirt half-on his chest. He pulled it down and cleared his throat. “Sweet. Okay. Thanks,” he said. “Yeah, I guess… I should’ve figured that out. Thanks. Merry Christmas.” “Merry Christmas, Santa!”
When a college baseball jock’s party loses its chance to buy a keg, Forrest has only one option… to see if Avery will buy it for him in exchange for a swing on his massive meat. Can Forrest perform and Avery provide?
“You let those black guys tell you what to do, you let some liberals tell you to call them African-Americans, you let your coaches, those scouts for the Orioles, your priest, you let everyone tell you what to do. You’re a grown man,” Avery said. “Take responsibility for your choices.”
“Hmm…” Avery shrugged. “I don’t agree, but whatever, you have to make your own decisions, Byron.” He kept one hand on the root of Byron’s cock as he rubbed lube onto the shaft. “You let those black guys tell you what to do, you let some liberals tell you to call them African-Americans, you let your coaches, those scouts for the Orioles, your priest, you let everyone tell you what to do. You’re a grown man,” Avery said. “Take responsibility for your choices.”
It was hard as iron now, he was in no danger of losing his erection. Avery could tell Byron was concerned about that though. Young men usually were. You’d think they’d only be concerned about when they got old enough it might happen, but that wasn’t the case. Young men were always terrified of getting or not getting hardons.
Byron was a quiet young man with a juttingly handsome face accentuated by his ever-present blush. He was a redneck with a Louisiana drawl so thick you could make gumbo out of it. He was short for a baseball player, with broad shoulders that were sunburnt red, the color extending up his neck. He had a military buzz-cut, though he was not in the military, he went to GHU, where he was on the baseball team. He was probably a devout Christian (though Avery was surprised to see that he neither wore a crucifix or had any religious tattoos, which Avery would have bet money he had).
