anal sex – Mansploitation

The Fat Cop

Bart is out and about when a violent encounter leads to him meeting the hunkiest of pudgy cops — Officer Lawrence Lumpowski! Can Bart service Lumpowski’s alpha male meat?

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Read the whole thing here!

Bart was tiny, and he felt like an idiot standing outside with a broom in his hand. What was he going to do with a broom? Sweep the man to death?
A few yards away, Josh Winters, a skinny white thug with a tattooed neck and a ropy-muscled body, stood in a wifebeater and jeans, shouting into a brick wall. He wasn’t even comprehensible anymore, just red-faced, blaring, spittle flecking the wall, fingers tightened into a fist that smacked against the bricks. He had so many endorphins running through his veins he didn’t even respond like he was in pain, even though he must be, his hands were bleeding.
A lesser man, Bart thought, or any woman would think Josh was the most handsome.
But Bart wasn’t into skinny guys, or even muscular guys. He appreciated the physiques of fat, stout, big or chunky men. Josh was the exact opposite of Bart’s preferred body type.
He stood in the doorway with his broom, ready to jab it into Josh’s face if he tried to come in again. Luckily it didn’t seem to have occurred to Josh to try a window, or one of the other doors into the photography studio — which, now that it was relevant to him, seemed disastrously hard to secure to Bart. There were a dozen windows on the ground-floor, and three doors.
If this was a zombie movie, he thought, there’d be no way I could keep this place secure.
There was just the one man though, not a horde of zombies. He had shown up to “speak to” his girlfriend, a plus-sized model named September. She was stunningly gorgeous, and she worked for Bart at his plus-size modeling agency. She was here to model lingerie intended for “rubenesque ladies with curves for miles”, according to the description the label had sent him. That was September. She was rubenesque for sure, or maybe a few pounds under rubenesque, which was even better for fashion purposes. She was achievable-hot for actual rubenesque women.
Anyway, Bart had been keeping Josh Winters at bay with the broom for ten minutes, waiting for the cops to show up.
“Girl, you had better get ya stanky ass out here or I swear I will smack the tits off ya body! Huh? You playin’ wit’ me? Huh? You think I wouldn’t find out about ya sluttin’ it around! You is fuckin’ every man in the state, bitch! You disrespectin’ me! I swear to Christ, girl, I will take that broom off ya bitch-ass boss and ram it so far up his ass I gonna sweep his tongue clean!”
Bart’s heart raced as he jabbed the broom at him. He had started off using the handle-end, but he soon learned that the straw end was actually very painful, and it covered a wider area. He jabbed it into Josh’s face, leaving a multitude of red marks and making him groan and scratch at his eyes. Bart tried to punch Josh while he screamed obscenities, but he only bumped into the door itself.
“Ah!” Bart squealed. He was a tiny man who had never been in a fight in his life. He didn’t know what to do about this. He swatted Josh in the face again and tried to push him away.
“Fuck you! Little bitch! I’m comin’ in there! Bitch, you had better get out here right now-!” His face was blustery as the broom handle again pushed him from the doorway.
Finally, a siren could be heard. It felt like he had called the police an hour ago. It had actually been some twenty minutes, which was a superlative response time for the Baltimore City Police Department. Bart waved the broom towards Josh, who staggered around, blinded — some of the straw from the broom had scratched his eyes.
“Fuckin’ shit! Did you call the cops on me, you bitch?! I never hit you! I ain’t never hit you! Don’t tell ’em I was ever violent, bitch! You fuckin’ bitch! I never hit you! You fell, you fall, you fell, you fell, bitch! You know that!”
Soon it was all over. Two bored-looking cops got out of their car and grabbed Josh. They seemed to know him personally, and they seemed to take offense at having to arrest him yet again. They tossed him into the wall until he stopped shouting, and they got handcuffs on him. His nose bleeding, eyes red like a stoner, bleary and cursing under his breath, he was forced into the back of the cop car.
One of the cops went in to talk to September and take her statement, while the other cop stayed with Bart. Bart had been so excited and worked up that he didn’t notice until then that this second cop had one of those physiques he craved.
He was pudgy, which was what Bart liked most about him. He was white and bald — it looked like he was balding by nature, but he shaved his head to a gleaming cue ball — with a powerful body and a layer of fat atop it. His flesh bulged against his uniform shirt.
“Uh-huh, sweet, okay, so you jabbed him wit’ the broom?”
“Only when he was trying to get in and threatening my model,” Bart said. He wondered if he should be making a statement at all — would they charge him with a crime? What if Josh was blinded by that broom?
“Don’t worry, we ain’t lookin’ to charge no one. You shoulda broke that broom off inside his bitch-ass,” the cop said. He had deep dimples like he would have been handsome if he weren’t so pudgy. He had a stentorian Baltimore accent with a souciant of East Coast stawk. His name, according to the badge on his chest, was Officer Lawrence Lumpowski.
The name was appropriate, as he was shaped like a muscle-bound lump of manmeat.
Bart wondered if he could get a taste of Officer Lumpowski. He wanted to so bad he could already imagine what it would taste like — bitter and salty and warm, fleshy, soft and firm at once. He wanted him real bad.
But how could he make that happen?
As Bart finished giving his statement, another car pulled up, followed by a second one. These weren’t police cars. A pair of young men got out, running their fingers through their fantastic hair. They wore sunglasses and sleeveless shirts that showed off their bodies. They had six-packs and perfect teeth.
They were models as well, and a few minutes later they were joined by a photographer, a makeup lady and a talent agent — they were who had rented this photography studio after Bart. Bart had forgotten that he only had the space until four o’clock. The fashion shoot was supposed to be quick in the studio, then him and September were to go to the florist shop on Elm to shoot some more pictures. The arrival of Josh Winters had delayed everything.
As the male models filed in, and September came out with her girlfriends comforting her — she had called them — Bart stood back with Officer Lumpowski. Lumpowski’s eyes opened wide at the sight of September — a big-ass beauty if there ever was one — and watched her get in her friend’s car. He didn’t stop staring until she was out of sight, and there was nothing to look at but two male models comparing abs.
“Shit… Was I starin’ at her? I shouldn’t stare at battered girls, but damn, she was hot,” Lumpowski said. “What was she doin’ with a loser like Josh?”
“Ugh, don’t even get me started. You shoulda seen her last boyfriend. He tried to get her to sign one of those consensual slave contracts, and he lived with his mom in a trailer,” Bart said. He rolled his eyes. “Women have awful judgement.”
“Yeah.”
“You like your girls thick, huh?” Bart said.
“If they look like that, hell yeah,” Lumpowski said with a low whistle aimed at no one in particular. He glanced at the male models with their oil-glistening six-packs. Lumpowski laughed and clutched his belly. “I ain’t never one day in my life have a six-pack like that. Shit, I ain’t never have a one-pack. I once had a dream ‘bout doin’ half a situp and woke up sore as a dog.”
“I prefer the physiques of a larger man,” Bart said. He cleared his throat. “In fact… I love to jack off big men.” He patted Lumpowski on the arm. “Including large cops.”
Lumpowski laughed, then cut himself off, bit his lip and blushed. His big chunky cheeks turned bright red. He realized Bart was serious. “Oh… Wait, what?”
“You actually have the perfect male physique, Lumpowski,” Bart said. “I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d gladly get you off anytime. You could treat me like a fake pussy, like your own personal fleshlight. Shit, if you weren’t a cop, I’d have already offered you fifty bucks just to let me stroke it a bit.” He threw his hands up. “But I realize you’re not into that. Sorry.” He paused and giggled. “I was just kiddin’ about offering money, Officer. That’s probably a crime, I would expect, some sort of hygiene thing, right? At least against department policy, I’m sure. And I would never ask you to violate a department policy.”
“Uh-huh. You serious? You into them…?” He grunted and covered his leering eyes, suppressing a laugh. “You’re into… like… fat… men?”
He looked so embarrassed that it made Bart laugh along with him. Luckily September was gone so it didn’t seem disrespectful. Bart clutched Officer Lumpowski’s jiggling body for support as he guffawed, and Lumpowski turned redder and redder. He watched Bart’s hands clutch his chest and belly.
“Oh yeah, yeah, I sure do-” Bart said, clutching Lumpowski’s bicep through his uniform shirt. though covered with a layer of flab, Bart could feel the giant firm muscle beneath.
“Lumpowski! Let’s go!” His partner, Heartley, called out. He was getting in the patrol car, but he stopped when he saw Lumpowski. He motioned towards the driver’s side door as though Lumpowski should already be behind the wheel. Then Officer Heartley said, “Whatchoo makin’ that face at?”
“Oh, just this dude…” Lumpowski said. “It’s a… Nothing. Nevuhmind.” He glanced at Bart. “Nevuhmind, you. That ain’t… Don’t do nothin’ Jesus wouldn’t do.” He was still red-faced and chuckling as he got in the patrol car and drove away. Bart was disappointed. He had thought that that encounter was going somewhere.
So he just went home. That photo shoot had been a bust. Lumpowski had been a bust. He never even took a single pic for the lingerie company. He was going to have to set up another photoshoot with September. He sent her a text asking how she was doing and asking her to let him know if she would be willing to do the photoshoot again, once she was ready.
He’d already paid her too. Shit…
Then he went out for his nightly walk. He liked to walk as the sun went down and it wasn’t so hot anymore, and the traffic on the road wasn’t so bad — there was no sidewalk in the area he did most of his walking. It was much easier once the day’s traffic died down, and he preferred walking in the neighborhood to using a treadmill.
He hadn’t gotten very far, however, before there was a car by his side — a police car. It pulled to a stop and the driver’s side window rolled down.
“Hey, man! Hey… you want a ride home?” It was Officer Lumpowski, his big bald face gleaming as he smiled. Heartley was gone, it seemed.
“Oh, uh, well… I was just walking, y’know… for walking.” Bart slid into the passenger seat. “But thanks.”
Lumpowski started driving again. “So, uh… I was kinda hopin’ I’d run into you,” he said. He cleared his throat.
“Uh-huh.” Bart pretended to have no idea what Lumpowski was talking about, though he had a pretty good idea where this was going.
“And, like… how you… you’re into… jacking off big guys. You know? Like… was you serious?”
“Very,” Bart said. “Did you get my address from the statement I made? Is that legal?”
“It ain’t illegal unless I access the data in the database for an impropuh purpose,” Lumpowski said. “Ain’t illegal to remembuh what you told me and write it down somewhere othuuh than the private database.”
“I see. That’s a cute technicality. Remember to take it for a walk and feed it every day.”
“So, like… If you serious, y’know… When I was growin’ up, my Uncle Ralph, he was a biker and shit-“
“Sounds nice.”
“And he was always, y’know… He said one time — or a couple times, but y’know… like he said… you know… it ain’t wrong, like it ain’t a sin — you know, like you can still — I don’t mess wit’ girl crime victims. Okay? Don’t make me do that sensitivity trainin’ again, I can’t handle that-“
“I won’t complain. You can park there,” Bart said, pointing to his driveway. Lumpowski pulled in and stopped the car.
“So, like…” Lumpowski’s big face was as red as a cranberry, shadowy with the dim light of dusk. “So, uh… I was… My uncle… and like, my dad, and some other guys, uh… back then… They was like… It ain’t, you know, makin’ ‘em sinfulnessly… if they’s… like on top. You know? Like… tops and bottoms, you know about that?”
“Yes, I know about that.”
“So, uh… like… Do you… think that… is right?”
“Well, it didn’t make any sense, you were babbling. But your uncle sounds like a very smart man, Officer Lumpowski,” Bart said. “I think he was right.”
“Shit, so like… I want… I mean… I got a wife, you know, but uh… She don’t like me… We is on the feud… I mean… She’s at her sister’s. She say I’m… Well, she ain’t too fond of me right now,” he said. “So, y’know-” He gasped and sucked in his breath as Bart’s hand snaked over to his lap. Bart’s delicate fingers snuck under his belly and into his crotch, where he ran his fingertip over the shaft of Lumpowski’s cock, stretching against the fabric of his uniform slacks.
“How far back does that seat go?” Bart asked softly.
“Pretty far, see?” He raced to activate the lever and scoot his seat back. That gave Bart plenty of room to get his face on Lumpowski’s dick between his belly and the steering wheel.
“I think cops should blow their nut all the time. It aids in focus,” Bart said. “But of course I’d never make girls do it, that would be wrong. So I’d just have to step up to the plate and jerk all those dicks.”
“Ah, shit, man, I ain’t stick my dick in a wet mouth in like six months. My wife won’t do it anymore. She said she read on a website how it’s like… impressive.”
Bart looked up at him. “What?” He undid the belt and unzipped Officer Lumpowski’s slacks.
“I swear, that’s what she said. She can’t do it anymore because it’s impressive.”
“Oh… Are you sure she didn’t say oppressive?”
“Ah! Oh, fuck! Yeah, that makes more sense!” He lifted his ass up enough to rearrange the tight white briefs he wore, giving him enough space to pull his fat bullish prick out through the fly. It flopped onto Bart’s face. “Oh sorry, I ain’t mean to mollywop you.”
“That’s okay,” Bart said. “I appreciate a good mollywopping.” He took Lumpowski’s dick in his hand and let it slide into his mouth.
Lumpowski sighed. “Shit, man…” One of his heavy hands touched Bart’s head, spreading his mouth open. “Sorry, shit, Jesus, man, that feels good. I needed that.” He leaned his head back and sighed. His dick stiffened up quickly — he must have been very horny, Bart thought.
Soon it jabbed into the back of Bart’s throat, and Bart deep-throated him into his meaty crotch, his nose nuzzling Lumpowski’s unkempt pubic bush. He inhaled deeply of his unwashed scent, the day’s musk having built up. Bart bet Lumpowski didn’t wash these slacks every day either, they smelled stale, like they were soaked in Lumpowski’s intense scent.
“Damn… My wife never sucked me off like that, yo,” he said. “I used to know this girl who did, but she dumped me a long time ago. My wife, shit… she never deep-throated me. Or even tried to. I thought that was messed up, she was always givin’ me tips on how to lick her pussy better, and printing out these weird-ass articles about how I should watch her put makeup on cuz that’ll make me lick pussy better. She said it helped but then like a week later…” His voice trailed off into a moan, and he humped his hips up, forcing his dick deeper into Bart’s throat. “Shit, man…”
Car 91. Car 91. Are you still on the road?
“Shit!” Lumpowski grabbed the radio off the dashboard. He took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t sound like he was getting off. “Yeah. I’m still out. What’s up?”
Chief says you gotta come back, you never signed that report about the domestic violence call.
“Goddamn it…” Lumpowski said. “Hey, man, was there anything you forgot to tell me earlier?”
“What?” Bart pulled off his cock, thick tendrils of spit still connecting him to the shaft.
“I gotta go back to sign it today, which is a pain in the ass, unless I gots a valid reason for not finishing it. It’s a law,” he said. “If you forgot to tell me somethin’…”
“That guy, Josh, he called me a pussy. Did I mention that before?”
“Nah, you ain’t say that. Good. That’s good, that’ll do,” he said. He spoke into the radio. “I had to re-interview the witness, about a possible miso… misojinny hate-crime charge. I’m doing it right now,” he said. “I’ll have to sign it tomorrow.”
Ten-four.
Lumpowski laughed. “Shit, thanks, man.”
“No problem… You could say thanks another way, you know…”
“What?” Lumpowski was already trying to feed his dick back into Bart’s mouth. He grunted, his cheeks ruddy again as he was nearing his orgasm. Precum ran down his shaft, and Bart licked it up.
“Hmmm… You taste real good, but you’d feel even better in my ass,” Bart said.
“Holy shit, you’re serious? You don’t think I’m too pudgy?”
“Too pudgy? Is that a thing?” Bart said. “I’m pretty sure it isn’t. I’m an expert, and I’ve never heard of it.” He leaned his own seat back as far as it would go. Then he climbed up into the basket-seat, facing backward. The cop car was barely spacious enough for Lumpowski to fit behind him, but Bart enjoyed the feel of him squeezing in there.
“Man, can’t we go inside?”
“No way,” Bart said. “I wanna get plowed in a cop car. Don’t worry, none of my neighbors can see.” Trees and an unkillable grove of bamboo blocked the view from the road, and the only house nearby was for sale and not currently being lived in.
“It’s a tight fit,” he said, then he chuckled as he slid past Bart. He grunted and squeezed to get behind him, his rock-hard dick rubbing against Bart’s ass. “Ha, ‘tight fit’.”
Bart giggled too. “Tight fits are the best.” He didn’t make it too easy for Lumpowski to get behind him. He liked making Lumpowski work and rub all over Bart’s body as he squeezed into the passenger seat. Bart was crouched down, spreading his cheeks to give Lumpowski easy access.
“Does your wife ever let you fuck her in the ass?” Bart asked.
He snorted. “No way. She wouldn’t even let me look at her ass,” he said. “She said I got a dick like a billyclub. She weren’t never gonna let me try anal.”
“Why did you hook up with her? She sounds like a bitch.”
“Yeah… But she’s hot, and y’know… Women don’t like pudgy guys, so I don’t got a lotta choices.” he said. “And she was nice… y’know, before. Before we got married.” He wedged his dick between Bart’s cheeks. “Ah, shit, I can’t believe I’m gonna stick a dude’s butt. I seen guys do that in jail, but shit, man…”
Bart opened his mouth to respond but all that came out was a wrenching oomph as he felt intense pressure in his ass. He could understand why Lumpowski’s girlfriend was not so enamored of the way he plowed into — he was aggressive and awkward, plowing in at different angles, huffing and puffing like a tired bull, his heavy body pressing down on Bart.
But while his girlfriend might not have liked it, Bart loved being treated like a piece of meat. Lumpowski could use and abuse his ass for as long as he wanted and, ideally, a little longer than that. He groaned and moaned, turning his face so Lumpowski’s hot breath condensed on his cheeks instead of the back of his head. His hands turned into claws that dug into the upholstery beneath him.
“Shit, man, damn, lemme in, shit, don’t move, don’t move, don’t move—” Lumpowski said. He sucked in his breath and a few drops of spit escaped onto Bart’s face. Intense pressure erupted in Bart’s ass, as Lumpowski’s cock rammed inexorably deeper and deeper. You could tell he’d never fucked a woman in the ass, because he was awkward and fumbling, with the cramped quarters contributing to his struggles. Bart writhed in his powerful body, as pleasure flowed like wine through his veins.
Bart slurped it all down, and when he got Lumpowski’s thick arm in front of him — Lumpowski’s writhing atop him ended with Bart in a loose chokehold — he slurped the sweat that clung to him, and he licked Lumpowski’s dense arm hairs. The smell of Lumpowski’s armpits wafted into his nostrils. A cavernous moan of bliss escaped from Lumpowski’s throat, and he squeezed Buck tight.
His uniform scratched at Bart’s back as Lumpowski pressed down on him, cock all the way in, moving in little circles, grinding atop Bart’s prostate. Bart cried out, the sound muffled by Lumpowski’s uniform and arm. Bart jacked his own self off, reaching his orgasm as his prostate exploded in ecstasy.
Cum sprayed onto the seat, followed moments later by a burst of semen into Bart’s ass. Bart sighed and moaned, slurping on Lumpowski’s forearm hard enough to leave a hickey. The pain in his ass right now was intense, but the pleasure was even intenser, and it made Bart dizzy, giddy with desire. He could have gladly flailed beneath Lumpowski’s body forever.
But eventually he was done, and Lumpowski’s cock fell limp inside him. Great gobs of cum spilled out, but Lumpowski remained right there. He murmured “don’t move” every few seconds, though Bart couldn’t move anyway, the pleasure within him was so potent he couldn’t think of it, and there wasn’t space to move in the tiny squad car.
Then Lumpowski backed out with a chortling gasp. He struggled to back away enough to get his dick out, since he was trapped in the little space between the seat and the dashboard.
Finally, Lumpowski was out, and Bart scampered over the passenger seat into the back, where he sprawled out, exhausted and spent. “Shit…” Bart said.
Lumpowski sat back, his dick out, copious sweat beading on his forehead. “Goddamn… Hey, can I come see you again, man?”
Bart smiled. “Sure. Anytime. I’m not always around though. Text me first,” he said. “If I’m in the city, I’ll come running.”
Lumpowski nodded. He lay there in the passenger seat, dazed, while Bart cleaned himself up. Then Bart cleaned off Lumpowski’s cock, kissed him on the neck and climbed out of the car.
He hoped Lumpowski did call him, though Bart expected he might not be around. He traveled often, both to find new plus-sized ladies for his modeling agency and to go in search of his ultimate love: fat men.

The Third Baseman

When minor league baseball player Lloyd Walters comes by to flooze it up at the Night Along Motel, clerk Avery Flowers is all too eager to help him out with all his… manly needs. Can Avery earn those stars on his customer service eval form?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Late night shifts at the Night Along Motel were slow and boring. Avery didn’t mind it, because he could watch TV and goof off on the Internet, which is realistically what he would have been doing at home. But still, the interminable quiet was dreadful, alleviated only by the occasional pandemonium of a drunken group of hotel guests coming back to their room. It was not usually an exciting job, but it had some perks.
“Hey hombre, you speak English?” asked a man’s deep voice. Avery was startled to see an almost-naked man there. He was a barrel-chested semi-pro baseball player — third baseman for the Riverbank Whoppers in the Mid-Atlantic Minor League — who had checked in a couple hours before, in advance of a game tomorrow. He stood there in plain white boxers from which a few tantalizing pubic hairs poked through, and he swayed on drunken legs. His mustache quivered, moistly. He had a delightfully not quite perfect physique, which Avery adored, and a daddyish thickness though he was lean, hungry-looking, like his muscles were uncomfortable for him.
Avery was used to being asked if he spoke English — a lot of the Night Along Motel’s staff were Spanish-only, after all. “Yes, sir. I checked you in when you got here, Mr. Walters.”
He leaned in close and peered at Avery as though checking to see if he was lying. The man, Lloyd Walters was his name, scratched his balls through his boxers. For a moment his thick cock was outlined by the dingy fabric of his shorts, and Avery’s heart raced as he pictured this brutish jock naked. Lloyd’s rancid breath was beer-soaked and hot. He produced a twenty dollar bill and gave it to Avery.
“Go get me a hamburger. Can you do that? Or is there one that delivers?”
“I can arrange for a delivery,” Avery said, glad that his connection at the scuzzy twenty-four hour hamburger joint across town finally came in handy.
“Good. Get me the biggest hamburger they got and everything they put on it,” Lloyd said carefully, as though describing brain surgery, “But not any kind of mushrooms. And make it rare.”
“Okay.”
“No, wait… Is this a nice place?”
“Well… It’s the only place that’s open this late.”
“Then medium-rare. I can’t be shitting all over the place at the game tomorrow.”
“Yes sir.”
His belly rumbling, Lloyd sauntered back into his room then, and after a few minutes, two cheap floozies crept out the door. Their just-fucked hair made it obvious what had happened; they giggled quietly, whispering, no doubt bragging about how they had just fucked a baseball pro (or semipro, close enough, Avery thought).
Avery’s friend arrived soon after that, with a bag containing the greasy hamburger. Avery gave him a tip and then brought the food to Lloyd’s room. He knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder.
“Come in!”
Avery walked in to see a stark naked Lloyd, sitting on the bed. He was sweaty and relaxed, sprawled out on the bare mattress. His limp cock was still moist, plastered to his thigh and gleaming in the dim light. The sheets and blankets were in a ball on the floor.
The smell of the hamburger aroused Lloyd from his soporific, drunken daze, and he took the bag from Avery. He nodded to the sheets and blankets. “Can I get some clean sheets brought in?”
Avery nodded. “Sure.”
“You might wanna… get rid of those,” Lloyd said. “Both those girls was anal virgins, if you get my drift.”
Avery saw the moist sheets dotted with blood, and he nodded. “Certainly, Mr. Walters. I’ll send the cleaning staff right in.”
“They’s prolly women, right? I should put some drawers on.”
Avery hesitated. “They would probably prefer it, sir.”
“Ain’t you polite?” Lloyd grinned. “Cleaning staff hot?”
“Eh… They are all older Mexican women, sir. The youngest is still a grandmother. They have a… steely handsomeness, but I’m not sure they would appeal to you,” Avery said. His cheeks blushed. He hoped this baseball jock didn’t ask for a prostitute. Avery wasn’t supposed to do that. The city punishes hotel clerks hard if they act as pimps. A hotel that provides women is just a brothel, after all, and the city did not want a brothel.
“Damn… Well, if any of ’em look like a sexy grandnmother, send me that one,” Lloyd said with a wink and a cackle. His sweat-dappled chest muscles rippled.
Avery licked his lips. “Didn’t you just…?” he nodded towards the door.
“We finished like an hour ago, so I’m ‘bout ready for another go-‘round” Lloyd said. “And they barely sucked my dick at all. Silly little college brats can’t suck cock worth a damn.”
“I see. Well, I do not think the cleaning staff will be interested,” Avery said.
“You look like you got nice soft lips there,” Lloyd said. His voice was deep as a canyon, and it had a sultry charm to it. Avery was not surprised he did well with women. Even aside from the fame and the physique of a baseball star, Lloyd had a masculine allure that Avery could not ignore.
Avery was so shocked he didn’t have a response. He had been propositioned by bucks here at the Night Along Motel before, that part wasn’t new, but a semipro baseball jock like Lloyd? That was a first, especially since he had just fucked — normally men were only interested when they were so horny they didn’t care where they stuck their cock. But no matter how virile he was, Lloyd couldn’t be that horny again just an hour after sex. “Yep,” Avery said, finally forming a word then blushing at how stupid he sounded.
“You got something to do with those lips?”
Avery dropped to his knees and kneeled in front of the bed. Lloyd leaned back on some pillows he had propped up, and then grabbed for the hamburger bag. He took it out and the cloyingly greasy smell filled the room.
Lloyd opened his bathrobe, his heavy cock dangling between his legs. It smelled delicious — especially with the odor of beef on top, Avery thought, giving it a tantalizing meatiness. He opened his mouth and swallowed it down to the root, determined to give Lloyd an orgasm he’d remember for a long time. The flavor of his stale sweat and the remnants of his fucking overwhelmed Avery’s senses as he slathered his tongue up and down the shaft.
“Oh fuck yeah,” Lloyd said. He groaned deeply then turned the TV on to Cinemax, where softcore girl-on-girl porn was playing. He belched loudly, his cock throbbing and firming up quick in Avery’s gullet. “Damn, I should take you with me to away games. Call you my personal ball boy.”
The pleasure visibly dancing up Lloyd’s chest made it clear how he felt about this. Avery did jack a dick off better than any women — lots of men had told Avery that. Women didn’t know how to do it, and they didn’t like to swallow a huge cock. Avery did. Avery didn’t even mind gagging on it, but usually, he did not gag.
Avery’s tongue slathered up and down his shaft as he wished Lloyd was serious, but knew he wasn’t. Men said that kind of thing a lot when their cock was in Avery’s mouth, but they always changed their mind once their balls were drained. Lloyd took a big bite from his hamburger, as Avery moved down to his balls.
He knew girls always hated licking balls, but he loved it, especially when they were swollen like Lloyd’s, and dripping with the remains of his wild rutting earlier. Avery could taste layers of sweat and feminine lotion still trapped in the hairs of his scrotum.
Moving back to the shaft, Avery deep-throated his cock. Lloyd gripped Avery’s ears tight, putting his hamburger down so he could use both grease-slickened hands. He pushed his dick all the way down Avery’s throat and held it there as he groaned.
Cum came pouring out of his cock with such an uninterrupted stream it was as though he was pissing down Avery’s gullet. Lloyd’s whole body bucked as his chest and neck turned reddish. Avery managed to swallow almost every drop of the pearly sweet cum. Lloyd grunted, sounding like a bodybuilder working hard on his biceps, and his balls slapped against Avery’s chin.
“Oh fuck yeah, you got a comment card or some shit?” Lloyd said with a throaty laugh. “I’m gonna tell the manager you’re good at your job.”
“You’ll be given an evaluation form when you check out, sir,” Avery said breathlessly as he wiped cum from his lips. He didn’t want to waste any. “I’d appreciate all fives.”
“Is that one of those things where anything less than a perfect score might as well be a zero?”
“Yes,” Avery said. He didn’t like grubbing for positive comment cards, but that was how he earned a bonus. If he got a bunch of them, he could win a five hundred dollar bonus every single month, and Avery was eager to get that money.
Not that that was why he jacked Lloyd off. Avery would do that for the love of it all. He had a great and deep admiration for the male physique. It was so much more appealing than women, he thought. Women were bony and soft and smelled nice, while Avery liked meaty, solid flesh that smelled like a barrel of jockstraps.
“I’m glad I could make your stay at the Night Along Motel more pleasing. Do let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
“I certainly will,” Lloyd said with a chuckle. He sighed, stretched and sprawled out on the bed. He was asleep before Avery had even gotten his clothes back on and snuck out the door.
Avery didn’t see Lloyd again for a couple months, and by the time he did, he had written the experience off as a one-time bonanza that was unlikely to be repeated. A pro (or semipro, technically) athlete must have had his choice of women, Avery thought, and he wasn’t going to settle for a queery blowjob again. That was too much to hope for — God wasn’t that generous, not to people like Avery. So when Lloyd sauntered into the front desk area late one night, Avery’s heart started pounding in his chest. He didn’t have two slutty girls with him this time either.
Lloyd winced a little, as though he was hoping he wouldn’t run into Avery. He hesitated, seemingly pondering his options. He held a suitcase in one hand. He wore an ill-fitting suit, with an off-the-racks black shirt and jacket that clashed horribly with his tan shoes and gray belt. Obviously he doesn’t have a girlfriend, Avery thought, or if he does, she’s colorblind. His shirt had not been ironed, Avery noticed; he looked about as well put-together as a homeless high school senior on an away game.
“Mr. Walters, another game tonight, huh?” Avery said, proud of himself for remembering his last name. That was gonna mean another good comment card, he thought.
Lloyd shook his head. “There’s no games on Sunday,” he said. “We played last night.”
“Oh, good game?” Avery said even as he realized from Lloyd’s body language that it hadn’t been a good game at all. He didn’t see that until it was too late, and Lloyd winced again. Obviously this was a sore subject for him. Avery cursed and hoped he hadn’t ruined his chances of a repeat.
“No. We lost, and…” Lloyd sighed. “Everyone thinks it’s my fault. It is my fault. I mean, not really, it wasn’t a tight throw and — nevermind, you don’t want to hear my excuses. I fucked up. I could have done better, and I didn’t. Can’t win ’em all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you did your best, sir,” Avery said, feeling like a den mother. He patted Lloyd on the forearm, and his spine shuddered at the feel of the man’s powerful muscles. He felt bad about thinking of sex when Lloyd was so upset. He handed Lloyd the key to his room. “Would you like me to come help you forget? I have to wait for my manager to go home, but that will be very soon.” Avery’s heart pounded as he wondered whether Lloyd would agree to jack off with him again.
“No, I…” Lloyd stopped and thought about it. “Yes,” he said. “Come on in.”
Avery watched him walk back to his room, the swagger gone from his step. The next hour passed interminably slow, but finally Avery saw his boss head out to the parking lot. After waiting a few minutes to be sure he didn’t come back, Avery hurriedly knocked on Lloyd’s door.
“Yeah, come in,” he said and Avery scurried inside.
Lloyd was already drunk. He must have been chugging booze from the moment he got here, Avery realized. Lloyd was stripped to his basketball shorts and a t-shirt, his bulging chest straining against the fabric. He held onto a metal flask that looked to be almost empty.
“Would you like a massage, sir?” Avery asked. He stood behind Lloyd’s chair and gripped his broad shoulders without waiting for an answer.
“Oh god yes,” Lloyd said. He leaned forward to give Avery more room on his back, then stripped off his t-shirt.
Avery rubbed his strapping back muscles. He used all his own musclepower on Lloyd’s shoulders and thick lats, which were so toned and tight they felt like coiled rope. Lloyd let out a loud moan of relaxation.
“Oh god, I needed this,” Lloyd said. He sounded almost ready to fall sleep right then, and moments later he jumped up onto his bed. Laying on his stomach, his pert asscheeks round and perfect, cradled by his shorts, Lloyd looked so delicious Avery wanted to eat him up right then.
But he didn’t want to make Lloyd uncomfortable, so he moved gradually lower and lower. He rubbed Lloyd’s upper back, his sides, his lower back, his feet and ankles, then slowly moved up his hairy thighs. He waited to see if Lloyd would tell him to stop, but he didn’t.
Was he asleep? Avery wasn’t sure at first. He might have passed out drunk, but he saw a few flickers of life. He seemed to be half-asleep, but still responding to Avery’s touch.
A few drops of sweat hovered just above Lloyd’s asscrack, in the pool at the small of his back. Avery quietly bent down and licked those beads of sweat up, then waited for Lloyd to say anything. He let his tongue jump past the elastic of Lloyd’s shorts, just for a second to see if he told Avery to stop.
No response. Avery smiled.
He let his tongue trace a line from the small of Lloyd’s back over his asscrack, without taking off his shorts. He tasted the plasticy, sweaty flavor of Lloyd’s shorts and smelled his stinky ass. The odor of thousands of hours of practice wafted into Avery’s nostrils, almost making him cum in his own pants right there.
He pulled those shorts down, revealing perfect globes of hairy assflesh. He kissed first one, then the other, giving Lloyd plenty of opportunity to say no. It was obvious he wanted this, Avery thought, and he even lifted his hips a little so Avery could get in there. He was probably just too embarrassed to say what he wanted.
Avery pushed his tongue inside Lloyd’s hairy asshole, and the musky flavor hit his senses. Avery’s own cock spasmed as he reached his own orgasm almost immediately, spraying cum into his hand. He shuddered but kept going deeper into Lloyd’s ass.
With the other hand, he reached around to Lloyd’s crotch and began stroking his dick. Soon Lloyd lifted his hips even more to facilitate it, until he was on his knees and elbows in front of Avery. He flexed his back in sync with Avery’s tongue, and his asshole opened up even more as he relaxed.
His tongue dug deep into Lloyd’s ass, but Avery saved most of his attention for the spongy prostate. Every time he touched it, Lloyd shuddered and his dick jerked beneath Avery’s fingers.
Lloyd’s breathing was short and sharp; it sounded like he was surprised at how good this felt. Avery wondered if he had ever had a rimjob before — possibly not, he knew a lot of men weren’t even aware it was something women did (which was probably fair, since most women would never do it). Avery, however, loved it, especially when he got to taste the wide ass of a semipro baseball player.
Finally he came, grunting as a thick load sprayed across his belly and dripped onto the bed below. Lloyd pawed at the mattress beneath him, then collapsed back onto his belly. Avery lifted his sweat-smeared face and took one last deep breath of Lloyd’s ass.
“Thanks for the massage,” Lloyd said.
“Not a problem, sir. That’s the kind of personal service we focus on here at the Night Along Motel.”
Avery had to get up early the next day to come in for a staff meeting. He wasn’t working the rest of the day, just coming in for a mandatory semi-annual meeting. He forced himself up at six a.m., pretending he hadn’t spent the previous evening servicing a semipro baseball player. He dimly showered and almost fell asleep on the way into work — he rarely started before noon, so this was a difficult disruption to his normal schedule.
The meeting was as dull and uneventful as ever. Avery hated coming to these idiotic meetings, except that he was able to schedule himself to be off those days, so he’d get paid a half-day for attending a one-hour meeting. That was, at least, a nice bonus. It was even worth getting up early. He could go home and take a nap after all, not that he would — Avery couldn’t sleep during the day no matter how tired he was.
When the meeting was over, he headed down the hall, choosing to go out a side door, both to avoid time-consuming chit-chat with his coworkers and because there was a chance he’d run into Lloyd. He wanted to walk past his room on the way out.
Jackpot! He smiled as he turned a corner and saw Lloyd poking his head out of the room. His grizzled face looked like he had just woken up, and was hungover. Lloyd looked at Avery in confusion — Avery wasn’t wearing a uniform.
“You working?”
“It’s my day off,” Avery said. Technically true, but he was paid a half-day today. He probably should have worn the uniform. They had been told to wear it to these meetings, though hardly anyone did and the manager seemed to have forgotten it was a rule. He hoped nobody who cared noticed.
“Oh, I couldn’t get anyone at the front desk, no one answered,” he said. “Is something wrong?”
“We just had a staff meeting. It’s over now though. You should be able to get someone. Is there a problem?”
“I just wanted to ask for a massage. You guys do that, right? I mean, not just your kind of massage.”
Avery smiled again. “Well… I do. But everyone else at the front desk just send out for a masseuse from a cheap place down the street. If you want a massage like what you got last night, let me do it. I won’t even charge you a courtesy fee like the hotel would.”
He smiled back. “Okay.”
Avery walked into Lloyd’s room, the same room he had stayed in the previous time as well. This was beginning to be the room Avery used every time he got a hot stud at work — it happened more often than seemed reasonable. The Night Along Motel simply had that sort of reputation. It was a place where men could get laid, not always by hot chicks, but someone or another.
Once Lloyd closed the door, he grinned. “Glad I found you. That massage place down the street… Are they full-service?”
“Uh, no, sir,” Avery said. “There used to be one girl who worked there who did, she gave twenty dollar handjobs though, that’s it. But she got arrested anyway. They usually send a man nowadays. Not a man like me either, a big Swedish guy with a belly and an ugly mustache.” Avery stopped talking, feeling self-conscious; Lloyd didn’t care about this stuff, he thought. He just wants another rimjob or something.
“Oh, well… I was really hoping to blow my nut this morning,” Lloyd said.
Avery dropped to his knees and grabbed Lloyd’s dick through his shorts.
“Wait,” Lloyd said. “I mean… I really wanna plow. No one wants to give up the ass anymore. Oprah said something about anal sex being demeaning last month, and now no chicks wanna do it.”
“Really?”
“I dunno, that’s what this black guy on my team said.” Lloyd shrugged. “I don’t watch Oprah.”
“Wow, I hope that’s true,” Avery said. “Cuz I love it when men get desperate.”
“I bet you do,” he said. He dropped his pants and motioned for Avery to bend over. “That happens a lot here, huh?”
“Yeah, it sort of does,” Avery said. He dropped his pants as he bent over the bed and spread his legs.
“Alright… this is weird, where do I put my hands?” Lloyd said.
“Wherever you want.” Avery felt his hot dick push into his ass, and Lloyd’s hot breath on the back of his neck.
Lloyd murmured something but Avery didn’t catch it; he was too intent on the pain blooming in his ass. He moaned and clawed at the mattress. There was a burst of pleasure as well, a dim pre-orgasmic buzz that grew and grew with every thrust of Lloyd’s hips.
“That hurt?” Lloyd asked.
“Yes, but keep going,” Avery said.
Lloyd chuckled. “Shit, I wish girls was like this about butt stuff. They take all the fun out of it with the complaining,” Lloyd said, then before Avery could respond, he rammed his dick the rest of his way in. “Hang on, this might hurt.”
Avery bit his lip and began stroking his own hard cock with one hand. He arched his back to give Lloyd a better angle, though he knew that would make the pain a bit more intense. In truth, Avery liked it when taking dick hurt just a bit; it made the pleasure more pleasurable, more incredible and more awe-inspiringly, jaw-droppingly potent. He writhed atop the bedspread as he struggled to accept every inch of Lloyd’s meat.
Lloyd whooped like he was leaving the huddle in the middle of a big game, psyching himself up with whooping and hollers. He was gyrating his hips now, moving his manhood smoothly in and out of Avery’s tight butthole.
They were moving in sync now, and Lloyd’s awkwardness with his hands vanished. He grabbed ahold of Avery’s hips to better control the positioning of his ass, and as it became apparent that Avery was going to love any position Lloyd chose, Lloyd lifted his ass even higher while pushing Avery’s head into the mattress with his other hand. His big baseball-toned muscle jiggled with every thrust of his dick into Avery’s intestines.
“You want me to pull out?”
“Fuck no,” Avery said breathlessly, and Lloyd laughed.
“I like to hear that.”
Avery didn’t have a response to that. He was busy shooting his load onto the bedspread, and shuddering as an orgasm ripped through him. He felt his ass squeeze Lloyd tight, which was apparently all he needed to send him over the edge as well.
A wave of cum hit him internally, and Avery felt its warm creaminess spreading throughout his innards. He was still pointed face-down, ass-up, so it drained deeper and deeper within him.
Lloyd’s cock spasmed hotly as he dragged it out, and there was a slick popping sound when it came out. It flopped onto Avery’s ass and left a moist slick there.
“Fuck, man… This is the greatest damn hotel ever,” Lloyd said.
“I couldn’t agree more.”

The Cocky Guido

Avery is at the Jersey Shore, where he finds himself servicing a cocky guido named Freddie. He can’t get enough of that Italian slab of manmeat!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Most guidos were actually fat or skinny. They were arrogant, orange-skinned prettyboys who weren’t even pretty. The men at the gym had turned out to be a bitter disappointment.
That was the Cornerside Gym of Northtown Meadows in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Avery worked there. Cornerside Gym had a reputation nationwide as a place for serious meatheads, weightlifters, boxers, etc., and the gym didn’t even accept women as members except where legally required to.
Seaside Heights, New Jersey, was not one of those places, so no women ever came into Cornerside except as cleaners at night. Avery didn’t mind that one bit. He enjoyed watching men work out, and he greatly appreciated the physiques of the men who worked out here. Seaside Heights was on the Jersey Shore, so a lot of those men were guidos.
It wasn’t like the guidos from that teevee show though. In the real world, most guidos were fat, or at least the ones who came to Avery’s gym were pretty tubby. They didn’t seem to realize it though. They carried themselves like they had good bodies they wanted to show off. One of them even once pulled up his shirt and smacked on his protruding belly as he insulted a skinny nerd in the locker room, even though the skinny nerd was in better shape than he was.
It was disconcerting. More than once, Avery wondered if he had wandered into an alternate reality where the standards for having a good body had changed. Still though, there was something about their cocky confidence that was arousing even when their bodies weren’t perfect, and sometimes they had both the perfect body and the cocky confidence.
Those, of course, were Avery’s favorites. One of them was Freddie Rizzoli.
Freddie walked out of the weight room one afternoon wearing nothing but sandals and a pair of sweat-marinated basketball shorts. Freddie was short and squat, too muscular for his body size, like he had trouble supporting so much muscle, yet he didn’t have that awkward-bodybuilder shape either — he looked too muscular only because he was so short, he packed more power than seemed possible into a small space.
“That’s right, man, fuck it! I told them how it is!” He pounded on his chest, talking to some friends as they all headed into the locker room. His bare chest flexed. He ran his fingers through his greasy slicked-back hair. “I don’t even play like that, man, swear to God! No disrespect, baby!”
Avery blushed and looked away. He hoped he didn’t look too obvious. He went about his business, ignoring Freddie and the other guidos. He heard them grunting and encouraging each other as they did bench presses. They were touchy, gripping each other’s muscles and casually masaging each other’s shoulders in between sets. When walking by, he even saw Freddie laying on that bench press with those sweat-soaked shorts clinging to his flesh. The outline of his huge, uncut cock was clearly visible pressing against the fabric of the shorts. It left nothing to the imagination.
When Freddie lifted, he grunted and his dick twitched. Avery drooled a little. He hurried away. Avery’s own cock was rock-hard, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Freddie. He rushed home to jack off.
But then he didn’t see Freddie at the gym next time he went. Avery was disappointed.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he saw Freddie again, still with those same couple of friends — he seemed to spend all of his time with them. Freddie ran his fingers through that over-brushed mop of straight, crunchy hair as he went into the locker room, having finished his workout, muscles drenched in sweat and cradled by the too-tight tank top he wore. Avery wondered if he could come up with an excuse to go into the locker room to check Freddie out. He blushed even though he was alone, not wanting to feel like such a lush.
But Freddie and his friends remained in there for only a minute or two. They returned with towels around their waists, having taken off their shirts. Avery watched sweat gleam on Freddie’s chest — which was freshly shaven, and not at all orange (Freddie actually tanned using sunlight, unlike most of his friends).
“Man, it’s just head,” Freddie said to one of his buddies, with a haughty chuckle, “you shouldn’t be picky about head.” He grabbed his dick through the towel around his waist.
“Why not?”
He laughed as though the answer should be obvious: “Cuz then you might get less. A mouth is a mouth, after all. So long as it’s warm and wet, who cares what she looks like?” His friends snorted and agreed with him, except for the one who had asked the question. Avery didn’t mean to follow them, but they went in the same direction he went. They went to the sauna, whereas Avery intended to walk past the sauna to go to the employee lounge. Freddie glanced at him and nodded his chin in his direction. “Fat girls love suckin’ dick,” he said quietly, like he thought Avery would scold him for being crude.
“Ain’t that nasty?”
“You ain’t gotta look down, do ya?” Freddie said as he went in the sauna, friends following behind him. They guffawed and slapped Freddie on the back. Freddie’s dimpled face, wide-eyed and exhilarated, was visible through the little window in the sauna door.
Wow, he is a champion douchebag… That was one aspect of guido life that came through on TV loud and clear. Avery didn’t like men because they were nice though.
He liked men with muscles and machismo and manhood to spare, and Freddie as exactly that sort of man.
Avery was disappointed that he didn’t get to watch Freddie any longer. Unfortunately, the sauna was one of the few spots in this gym where he couldn’t justify simply walking in whenever he wanted. Staff normally stayed out of there, and there was no storage or anything else he might have been able to use as an excuse. Plus, he had some actual job responsibilities he needed to get back to eventually.
For now though, he kept an eye on the little window in the door though. He was able to watch Freddie’s shoulder muscles flex as he laughed. The sight of his muscles and the sound of his arrogant alpha-male laughter made Avery’s dick twitch and harden up in his pants.
Avery was about to walk away to jack off alone when he heard some low murmured comments in the sauna, followed by more chortling laughter. It was very loud this time, loud enough to startle Avery from his daydream. From the tone, he guessed somebody had made some sort of scandalous joke. Something about the sound made him stand flat against the wall, listening the best he could.
A part of him could tell that they had been talking about him. The hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stood on end. He couldn’t put his fingers on what made him think that until he heard their words, but he was certain of it even before he listened.
“Man, that ain’t what I’m sayin’!” Freddie insisted, his voice audible through the door. It sounded like he was trying to stay light-hearted, to prove this wasn’t a big deal, whatever it was. Avery could hear him rolling his eyes in there as his friends laughed at him, a forced smile on his face to make himself seem easygoing even though he wasn’t. “A mouth is a mouth is all I’m saying. That’s how they did it in the Old Country-“
“As though you know, man.”
“Fuck you, bitch, say that to my face!” Freddie barked and everyone fell silent. That part was clearly audible outside the sauna. Then Freddie cleared his throat and chuckled like he hadn’t just snapped. “Yo, I been there, you know that. In Sicily, man, if you act like some disrespec’ful punk, man, you get on ya knees, boi! Verità!” He laughed cruelly. “I ain’t done it myself, but I know how shit goes down. My uncle got this one punk who owe him money, man, he puts that bitch in his place e’ry day, man!” He paused. “‘Cept on Sunday, man, he don’t do that. That’s God’s day.”
His friends murmured quietly in response, but nobody challenged him. It sounded like Freddie said this frequently and they tolerated it but didn’t approve. They exchanged glances with each other, and they laughed politely at Freddie’s antics. As always, he had taken it too far. Freddie always took things too far. When his friends laughed, he laughed harder. When his friends bullied a nerd, Freddie got too mean about it and did time in juvie. When his friends smoked weed or drank beer, Freddie smoked or drank until he puked. When they insulted a pimp, Freddie insulted him so bad the pimp tried to stab him.
The one thing Freddie couldn’t do was stop himself.
Freddie didn’t like the idea of his friends thinking of him as a braggart — he liked the idea of being old-school, hardcore, not behaving like some “prettyboy”, as his father would have called his friends. Only pansies worried about projecting an image; a real man trusted that reality would show off his manhood to everyone who needed to see it. His body streaked with sweat, he made sure his friends could all see his muscles. He kissed first one bicep, then the other, and he let his towel “accidentally” fall away to reveal his gigantic dick.
He knew he had the biggest dick among his friends. He made sure they never forgot it. His shaft was more than a foot long, veiny as fuck, and it was thick like a coke can.
“Man, Freddie, admit it, you playin’, right? You wouldn’t do nothin’ like that, and we all know it,” someone said, and everyone else fell quiet. They all shared knowing snickers with each other. “This ain’t the Old Country-“
Freddie scoffed loudly. “Yo, you don’t even know, man. No disrespect, but you don’t get how a real man is, ya feel me?” He sniffled and laughed to show how little he cared for that suggestion. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “If you got a real man’s cock and balls like me, you need to use ’em, y’know. That’s how Italians do, man, ya gotta drain ya nuts.”
“That’s why you get fat girls, man-“
“Yeah, well, fat chicks suck dick the best, everybody knows that. They know how to get deep, and they don’t get pissy about it if you force it in deeper.” He imitated a girl’s plaintive voice begging for more cock, and he pumped his hips, shadow-fucking a woman’s mouth. “Oh, it’s too big, don’t make me deep-throat it, Freddie, I can’t take the whole thing. But it tastes so good… Oooh, I want more…” He switched back to his own voice. “When I get a woman, I get inside that pussy, man. It’s all about the pussy.” He paused. “Or ass, ‘course, if she a dirty bird.”
“You could get some ass right now.”
“Yeah, do it, Freddie.”
Freddie snorted. “What?”
“There’s that dude out there, right? The one who works here? The little flamboyant one?”
Avery blushed. Am I caught? They must have noticed me checking him out. Avery was the only one who worked at this gym who might be described as a “little flamboyant” man. Avery held back a giggle.
“Yeah, he wanna slurp yo’ balls, man. He looked at you like a fat kid looks at cake.”
“So let ‘im.” Freddie shrugged. He wagged his pecker towards his friends. He guffawed too, slapping his knee at the sick look they made — they didn’t like being reminded that he had the biggest cock in the whole crew.
“Yeah, that’s some Old Country shit, Freddie. Does ya dick work or not?”
They all laughed, all except Freddie. He bit his lip and scoffed again, like this wasn’t a big deal and of course he would do it, like there was no doubt, even though the hesitation in his voice was palpable. “I mean… yeah, like… Uh-huh…. He prolly ain’t allowed to.” He cleared his throat. “Gym prolly got rules and shit.” Then he let out another forced laugh, like that ended the conversation and he wasn’t going to continue it. “So what’re you’s doin’ tonight-?”
“Uh-huh, you scared?”
“He is, he’s worried his dick won’t work-“
“Probably worried the creep gonna have a bigger dick than him.”
“What if the dude makes him bend over and ramrods him like a prison bitch?”
“That’s prolly what’ll happen-“
“Freddie gonna bottom for him-!”
They all laughed, all again, except Freddie, who roared and bellowed. “Man! I could kick that punk’s ass!” Even as he said it, he knew it made him sound weak — it was obvious he could kick that punk’s ass, that’s why his friends had suggested otherwise as a joke. Freddie knew he made himself sound defensive and weak, but he couldn’t help himself. He hated it when anyone questioned his masculinity, even a little bit. “I could do it, no problem. No disrespect, but I could knock that boy’s block off.”
Having a feeling that Freddie was about to come out of the sauna, Avery stepped away. He went to the closet just down the hall and made it look like he had just brought the mop bucket there and needed to move stuff around to make space for it. Since he wasn’t near the sauna anymore, he couldn’t hear what they said, but they kept laughing and chanting while Freddie listed excuses.
“Man, you know how I am, I don’t like, y’know… This gym is real important, I don’t wanna ruin it, y’know, get kicked out and shit. Gotta get my gym on, pump up the muscles, y’know-“
“Uh-huh, Freddie, just admit it, you’ve never jacked off in a dude’s mouth-“
“And you never would-“
“And you know fuck-all about how they would do it in the ‘Old-Country’-“
“All you’s guys can go fuck yaselves,” Fredde said with a grimace. He flexed one bicep and kissed it again, showing off a dimpled smile — for no clear reason that Avery could tell, Freddie was just unsure of himself and filled up awkward pauses with bluster and self-worship. “Course I’ll do it. Ain’t nevuh said I wasn’t gonna do it.”
Finally Freddie came out of the sauna. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He blanched at the sight of Avery like he had hoped maybe Avery would have left by now.
But Avery was there by the closet, fiddling with the mop bucket. He smiled at Freddie.
“Hey, uh, yo…” He sounded like he was going to ask a question politely. But then he heard his friends all clustered by the door to hear, poking at his back and teasing him under their breath. He felt he needed to maintain his macho image. So he grabbed his dick through his towel. “Yo, freak, you wanna slurp my meat?”
Avery blushed. “Uh…” His first reaction was, of course, to say yes, but he instinctually wanted to avoid looking too pervy, and Freddie was such a jerk Avery had an unquenchable desire to tell him no, even if he really wanted to say yes. So he played coy. He giggled and touched Freddie’s nipple, making both pecs flex in sync with each other. Freddie furrowed his brow. “I don’t know,” Avery said with another girlish giggle.
“Course you do.” Freddie scoffed. He took a deep breath and dropped his towel, standing there cockily in the hallway like he expected Avery to be so turned on by his foot-long dick that he couldn’t help but start swallowing it down right then and there. He was almost right, but Avery kept a nonchalant look on his face, despite desire blooming deep within him. When his posing didn’t result in Avery dropping to his knees, Freddie just scowled and said, “Come on.” He opened the door to the sauna.
Avery blushed but came in. The other guidos were rushing to get their own towels over their waists — they had been wearing the towels, but they hadn’t bothered to keep them secured, so most of them were loose; now that there was a stranger in the sauna, they made sure to fix the towels.
“Ah, shit, is he really doin’ it?”
“Oh damn, Freddie!”
“Bow-bow-chicka-wow-wow!”
Avery and Freddie were in the center of the sauna, which forced the other guidos by the door. They all clustered together as though worried they’d get splashed on. Though they thought it was too weird to be near Avery, they didn’t mind bumping into each other, clasping each other’s sweaty muscles and getting so close together they could taste each other’s bodies. Avery could even see one man’s towel ride up enough on his thigh that his dick protruded and rubbed against his buddy’s hairy orange-tanned thigh — they were all so engrossed in watching Freddie that no one noticed.
“Well, get on ya knees, boi!” Freddie said, pumping his biceps for the benefit of his friends. He even kissed one bicep, which made Avery giggle. Freddie ran his fingers through his greasy black hair. “You’s guys thought I wasn’t gonna do it, you thought I was just playin’!”
“Freddie’s fo’ real!”
“Aw, shit, baby!” one of them shouted, ran forward a few feet and smacked Freddie on the ass — that seemed to be some kind of inside joke — before going back to his compatriots. As he did, his towel fell, baring a splendid orange-brown ass, gleaming with sweat in the overheated sauna. Avery wondered which of that guido’s friends spray-tanned his buttcheeks.
“Get ya naked ass outta here-!”
“Don’t let your dick touch me!”
They shoved him away, and the one who had run away from the group looked behind his back. He didn’t want to pick up the towel that he had dropped because it would mean he had to bend over, ass facing either his friends or Avery and Freddie. Finally he squatted awkwardly, covering his crotch with one hand, picked up the towel and wrapped it around his waist again.
Avery sunk to his knees. He blushed, embarrassed at the leering, laughing guidos who surrounded him. Freddie had a nice big cock. His pubic hair was trimmed, which Avery was not a fan of — he preferred a more natural man — and his chest was shaved as smooth as a billiard ball. But that gym-toned body was perfect enough to make up for any disappointment in his lack of hair.
When he took Freddie’s dick in his mouth, Freddie gasped but tried to cover it up by sternly grunting, so his friends didn’t think this was a big deal for him. He crossed his arms over his pecs and flexed his muscles, making Avery giggle and blush again.
“See? You’s guys is a bunch of pansies, gettin’ all squeamish like girls,” Freddie said with a scoff, as though this had happened a hundred times and Freddie was fed up with their response. “A mouth is a mouth, boi!” He flexed both biceps over Avery’s head.
But Avery could sense the nervous energy in the thrum of Freddie’s muscles and the tension even in his relaxed limbs. It didn’t bother Avery none, as he focused on slurping that rod down deep.
“Damn, Freddie…”
“Get deep in his throat!”
Ruddy arousal bloomed over Freddie’s face and chest, his tanned neck turning burgundy. His tongue lolled around inside his mouth. Sweat covered his body. Freddie tensed up because he was worried he would cum too quickly. He had been raised to think being on top made him tough but cumming too quick would make him weak — a real man should take a little time to fuck his bottom’s throat.
But taking a break or otherwise slowing down directly would look weak too. Freddie’s instinct was to grab Avery’s head and fuck his face aggressively. He didn’t entirely want to to do though, because it would require touching his head and reminding himself he was with a man. In any case, he was sure that would make him cum right away.
“Swallow it, yo…” Freddie paused and added, in poor Italian, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!” He thought a little trash-talk would be a good compromise — it would make him look tough without making him cum more quickly, and that sentence was one of the few Italian things he could say confidently. So he said it again, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!”. He chuckled. Ain’t nobody else here knew what that meant, so Freddie flexed his pecs to make them bounce and sneered down at the weak man slobbering on his knob. Spit dripped down the shaft and soaked his pubic hair. “Aw, shit, you gonna play with it like a tubby bitch, huh? You best-” His voice broke, which he only barely managed to cover up by coughing. A shiver of potent pleasure ran up his spine. Freddie blushed — it wasn’t obvious because he was very tan and he was ruddy anyway from the heat in this humid sauna, but he could feel it, and he grew antsy trying to affect a nonchalant attitude in front of his friends. “You best deep-throat that shit, baby…” He winced as his friends laughed — he hadn’t meant to call Avery baby. That was a step too far, he thought.
“Baby? You two gonna fall in love?”
“Ooooooh! Freddie’s in love!”
“Fuck you, man, you’s guys-” Freddie pumped his hips one time, cutting off his own words because his dick rammed all the way into Avery’s throat and an explosion of pleasure like nothing he had ever experienced wracked his body. It felt so good it hurt.
He had never been deep-throated like this. He couldn’t admit how unprecedented it was because he had been bragging to his friends for years about how he made his girls deep-throat him. He said that they loved it. He specifically said that his balls rested on their chin when he came. That had never been true until now.
His balls slapped against Avery’s chin, and Freddie let out a tortured crying wail as an orgasm erupted within him. Already his friends snickered — that had taken maybe three minutes — and hooted as they slapped his ass.
He grunted, his orgasm so intense it almost hurt, and he gripped Avery’s head tightly, ignoring his short, masculine haircut. He grimaced and sprayed a massive wad down Avery’s throat, filling his belly up with creamy warmth.
The taste was salty and savory, and Avery guzzled down every drop. He loved straight boy cum because it had a vibrant, spring-like quality that made him crave more even as he swallowed Freddie’s load and licked every drop off his limpening shaft.
It just kept on flowing, more and more. Freddie’s eyes opened wide as he watched. His friends peered closer — they’d never really seen someone cum before. Of course they’d watched porn and they’d fucked their girlfriends alongside each other — they even once gangbanged this older lady who had begged for Italian meat — but they had always been distracted by their own desires and the female flesh around them. Not this time. They had no reason to look anywhere else, and like people unable to turn their heads away from an accident, they stared as Freddie’s dick throbbed and pulsating.
Great creamy gobs of cum spilled out and over Avery’s face. He saw all those eyes staring at him, and he thought to make a big mess, letting most of the cum in his mouth overflow. That embarrassed them all.
“Aw, shit-“
“Lookit that nasty!”
“Oh it’s all over his face! It’s all over his face! You the man, Freddie!”
“Ah, shit, yo, damn…” Freddie said. He shook his head and sighed, trying not to reveal how surprised he was by that big load. Avery had really pulled it right out of his balls. Freddie shrugged as though that was how much cum he normally shot. “Damn… Alright, I was, y’know… You can go now, man-” His voice broke and his friends laughed at him. “We done, you, uh… I used you as quick as I could. I wasn’t tryin’ to take a lotta time, so now you gotta go.” Freddie again knew he sounded defensive; he sounded like he was embarrassed about how quick that had been (which he was), but he couldn’t stop himself. “Man, that was what they call a cazzo veloce in the Old Country.”
Avery remained sitting right there. Freddie was so focused on demonstrating to his friends how macho he was and how he had forced Avery to slurp his dick then leave that he didn’t notice that Avery hadn’t left. Avery sat next to Freddie and clutched his muscular body. Freddie was too uncomfortable to make him leave, so he endured it until he and his friends had finally had enough of the sauna.
Then they left Avery there to remember the taste of Freddie’s fine Italian cock. That, Avery thought, had been unici deliziosi!

The Custodian

Turner Coop is a recovering crackhead and a custodian at the local college, and he’s got a physique Avery craves. When they run into each other one day, Avery is willing and ready to service every inch of Turner’s manhood. Can Turner accept?

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Read the whole thing here!

Avery stood by the door to his English classroom, waiting. He always ended up here a few minutes before class let out — he was in the next class, Advanced Poetry-Writing Techniques with Frau Klomp. He had been looking forward to that class all last semester, and it had proven as rewarding as he hoped. He only had time on Sundays, so it was a special Sunday-only summer class.
But Frau Klomp didn’t really follow a schedule very closely. Her previous class was supposed to let out at eleven o’clock, but she usually didn’t dismiss until eleven-fifteen, sometimes even later. Avery could tolerate this inconsistency, though many of his fellow students hated it — they had other classes, work schedules, girlfriends and boyfriends, etc., that made it difficult to accept an unpredictable ending to the class. And today was Father’s Day, so most likely a lot of people had plans.
Avery, however, didn’t much care about Frau Klomp’s inconsistent schedule, except that it was annoying to show up early and have to wait in the hall.
“Howdy, fella, glory be to God,” said Turner the custodian. He jawed and jived, smiling charismatically at the college students as they streamed past him in the halls. “You there, nice to see ya again. You still got the Lord’s joy in ya heart, I feel that! Heck yes!” It wasn’t clear he was actually talking to anyone specific. He was just generally saying things, aiming them at whoever happened to be within his field of vision at the time.
Avery’s heart skipped a beat. He’d had a crush on Turner for a long time. He didn’t even get why exactly. Turner wasn’t some handsome sex-god — he was a weird Christian custodian. He was dirty blond with a mustache like a 70s porn star, a great thick one that ran down the sides of his mouth, like he was trying to grow a goattee and but the lower part could only grow by dripping off his upper lip. He was a bodybuilder, but he didn’t have an excellent body — it was fine, adorable in Avery’s eyes — Avery didn’t much like that vascular bodybuildery look — because he had (supposedly) spent forty years as a homeless crackhead. Considering his age, that suggested Turner had been a homeless crackhead when he was a teenager back in the early days of crack — Avery thought that was very possible, but he wasn’t sure he believed it. In any case, he had become a born-again Christian who “sculpted God’s temple” in the gym every day just a few years ago.
So his wiry-hobo frame had gradually filled out, until he was bulging all over with thickness and firm muscle. He looked like his body didn’t quite fit on him, like he had combined a thin man’s body with a hefty man’s muscles.
But the mustache was what really drew Avery in. He did admire a man with a proper ‘stache.
“You still prayin’, Jay-Bay?!” Turner slapped palms with a fat black football player who laughed politely (and who made a face like his name was not anything similar to Jay-Bay). “The good lord loves ya!”
“Yeah…”
Turner pushed his mop bucket through the halls. He whistled loudly. He attracted a lot of attention, both for his dirty mullet and his mustache, as well as his frequent exhortations to pray. He’d been nearly fired for it twice because students complained about his proselytizing. It did not look like any of those actions resulted in him stopping.
“Who’s got the love in they heart? Do you, huh? Li’l fella, huh?” He tried to slap palms with a short young man walking by, but he nervously shuddered and quickened his pace. Turner watched him go. “Don’t worry, God loves ya just the same, boy!”
He got to work mopping the side corridor, the foreign language hallway, which didn’t have much activity on Sundays. Turner nodded at Avery who was still standing there by the door.
“How you doin’, God’s son?”
“Uh…” Avery had never actually spoken to Turner. He blushed. “I’m… cool.”
“It’s a glorious day, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah-“
“A glorious day fo’ the Lord! Hallelujah!”
“Hmm-hmm.” Avery was interrupted by the arrival of a woman.
She pushed in front of Avery, ignoring him completely, and said, “There you are! I need the keys.”
“What for?”
“I gots to drive, baby,” she said as though he should have known that.
It was obvious this was Turner’s wife. Avery had noticed the wedding ring, but he had never seen her before. Another factor that made it obvious she was his wife was that she looked, like Turner, like she had been smoking crack for decades and quit recently. Her hair was thin and straw-like, her skin yellowed, her body portly and lumpy in all the wrong ways.
Somewhat less obviously, Avery thought she was on crack again. There was a trace of herky-jerky in her movements, her voice had a warble-grunting tone to it, and her eyes had that cloudy look of a crackhead. Avery was no expert, but she looked like a current-day crackhead.
Judging from the disappointed, betrayed look on Turner’s face, he knew it too. Turner’s mustache quivered. A long silence lay between them like a coffin, and Turner was, for the first time since Avery had seen him, speechless. She fluttered and jittered like she didn’t notice the penetrating stare from her husband.
He looked down his nose at her, kindness in his eyes and sternness in his voice. “Baby, remembuh the decisions you wanna make, remembuh the life you chosen to lead, glorifying our God above-“
“Just gimme the damn keys, Turner,” she snapped. Then she added, “I gots a doctor’s appointment.”
Turner sighed and took the keys out of his pocket. He handed them over to her. Avery kept his head down, pretending he wasn’t listening. He couldn’t believe Frau Klomp hadn’t yet dismissed her class. She was still deep in the throes of a lecture, it looked like through the little window in the door. Did schedules mean nothing to her? Not everybody has the free-wheeling, haphazard lifestyle of a college English professor. She probably has literally no deadlines that matter. Avery did.
“See you, baby, I love you and God loves you and-“
“Same to you.” She virtually sprinted away from him.
Turner watched her go. He hung his head and shook it. He glanced up at Avery and frowned. “I ain’t nevuh gonna see that car again,” he said. He took a deep breath. “You ain’t looking to sell a car on the cheap, is ya?” He chuckled.
“Actually…” Avery had an idea. He could handle skipping one poetry class. “I do have a car I want to get rid of. It’s a Geo Metro, it works just fine but it’s not worth that much money anymore, it’s all beat-up. No one will buy it. It runs, no problem.”
“Really? How much? I can fix it up, yessuh, I can make it run good as new, I know all ’bout cars. The good Lord give me a mind that works like that, ya see-” He pointed to his head. “I got that mechanical brain, ya feel me? Spark plugs and that. Transmission. Mufflers. Carburatuhs. They don’t make cars with carboratuhs no more, but you know, I knows about ’em.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. “I’ll-“
“Startuh! I can fix a startuh, no problem.”
“Okay that’s great. I’ll give you the car for free, if you do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Stick it in me.”
For the second time in a long time — possibly the second time since he quit smoking crack — Turner was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth to speak but only grunted. His eyes opened wide. “The car?”
“No, I mean, I want to jack you off, and I want to lick your dick, and I want you to stick me in the ass. I know it isn’t Christian and-“
“Yeah.” Turner grabbed Avery by the head and led him forcefully — not aggressively, but firmly — into the walk-in supply closet in the foreign-language hallway. Turner’s mustache quivered on his upper lip like he was upset. His powerful arms exuded heat, and the smell of his deodorant-clad armpits assaulted Avery’s nostrils.
Avery wondered if he had miscalculated. Was Turner going to beat him up? Was he being brought into the closet just for that purpose?
“What’s ya name, son?”
“Avery.”
“You Christian, Avery?” Turner asked, and Avery nodded. Turner shook his hand in the tiny closet. “Oh that’s a good fella. I got nothin’ against no kinda folks, just so’s ya know. I loves ’em Islam’slims, with the-” He pantomimed a turban or some other head-covering. Avery just smiled and nodded as the door to the closet closed. Turner went on to make more gestures that apparently referred to Muslims, but it was dark in the closet, so all Avery could sense was some quick furtive hand movements. Then Turner turned on the single bare lightbulb, bathing the closet in light.
“Oh, I-” Avery blushed as Turner took his shirt off. His bare chest muscles rippled as though he had to use every single one to take his shirt off.
“Hmm-hmmm…” Turner let out a little moan even though nothing had happened yet. Avery hadn’t even touched him.
That was because Turner believed strongly that fornication was wrong — also that any ejaculation outside the confines of a marriage was wrong or at least less than ideal. He thought that accepting money for jacking off — or a car, in this case — was sinful. But he also believed that God forgave anything, especially sins that were inspired by momentary lust and an inability to overcome God’s urges. Besides that, Turner had long ago decided that the greatest sin was destroying his body with crack. Anything that wasn’t that was a minor sin in comparison — he wasn’t hurting anyone, except his wife — and that marriage, he thought, was all but over — and he was only doing it because he was overwhelmed by need and want and desire.
So the sooner he could make himself feel like he was “overwhelmed”, the sooner Turner could abandon his inhibitions. God would forgive anything if Turner was too aroused to control himself, and so that is exactly how aroused Turner endeavored to be.
“Hmmmm….” This time his voice was a low, throaty growl that made Avery shiver. Turner’s hand slipped onto Avery’s shoulder. Turner leaned in and kissed Avery right on the lips. His mustache scratched at Avery’s upper lip. His tongue plunged into Avery’s mouth, and the dusty, sun-choked flavor of his mouth hit Avery’s senses. Avery swooned, and his arms fluttered around Tommy, then wrapped around his shoulders and held on. Turner’s muscles rippled as he kissed Avery passionately — awkwardly at first, then passionately, so it felt like Turner forgot partway through that he was kissing a man. It felt like how he might have kissed his wife, at least back before she stole his car a few minutes ago.
When jacking men off and swallowing their loads, getting them to ramrod him like a prisoner, Avery found they were rarely willing to kiss. They were more likely to give him a reacharound than lock lips with him. He didn’t mind so much. Kissing was optional as far as he was concerned, but he did enjoy it.
So he was shocked that Turner kissed him without even a trace of hesitance. Avery hadn’t even asked him to. He stood there limply for a moment, letting Turner’s tongue explore his mouth. Then Avery’s hands gripped Turner’s chest through his coveralls.
“Boy, you makin’ me forget my religion, and on Father’s Dady!” Turner said softly, his throaty voice echoing in Avery’s ear. “Get on ya knees. You got nice soft, silky lips. Lemme feel ’em, okay? I wanna feel ’em all nice and moist on my dick. Lemme feel it.”
Avery was going to say yes, but Turner kept talking — just like he usually did, except he talked about Avery jacking him off instead of his love for God. Avery didn’t want to interrupt him, so he simply sunk to his knees without another word. Turner ran his fingers through his tangled mullet and gently pushed down on Avery’s shoulders until he was in position.
The closet filled with the scent of cleaning fluids and bleach, which clung to Turner’s bleack-speckled coveralls. Avery’s dick rocketed to attention even before he had gotten to his knees, as the smell of Turner’s manly body and his heavenly crotch got Avery’s blood flowing. He unzipped the fly of Turner’s ratty old coveralls and reached in.
“Hmmm, boy, yeah, you got nice fingers too… You makin’ me forget ’bout sin, yessuh, you makin’ me forget!” Turner said with a whoop and a slap of one palm on his thigh. Avery hadn’t even touched his dick yet, and it was one hundred percent limp still, but Turner was acting like it felt really good. Avery inhaled the zesty must of his unwashed crotch.
And then Avery finally did get his fingers on Turner’s cock, squeezing through the fly and into the humid jungle of his groin. It was hot in there, and Turner’s shaft was greasy and throbbing, veiny even though Avery only barely touched it with his fingertips. The darkened, moistened crevice of his crotch smelled strong, the scent leaking out through the open fly of his coveralls. It was funky and sour, sweet like baking bread, the warmth and humidity of it wafting out onto Avery’s face even before he had gotten the zipper fully down.
His dick was slippery with sweat, and it pulsated beneath Avery’s touch. Turner’s whole body shook from that barest of touches. He leaned back and rested his hefty arms on the shelves of the supply closet. That put his crotch at a perfect height for Avery to nuzzle. His cock slipped into Avery’s mouth.
“Take it out, boy, take it out and make it wet, make it nice and wet…” Turner closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Dang, boy… Dang, I say!”
Avery was surprised at how big it was. He had had no reason to think it wouldn’t be big, he just generally assumed that men with huge dicks talked about it a lot and found reasons to bring it up. But Turner, it seemed, was too Christian for that. Turner was short and skinny, tautly muscled but skinny, so it seemed like all his body parts should be small.
But his cock was well over ten inches long and so thick Avery struggled to swallow it. Avery battered it with his tongue, and he held it with two hands while he aggressively worked the tip. He hocked up a mountain of spit that ran down the veiny shaft and soaked into Tommy’s off-black, off-blond, off-gray pubic hair.
When he was fully erect, Turner slapped Avery over the face with his rod — that was something Turner remembered being done to him in his crackhead days. Or had he just witnessed it in prison? He couldn’t remember now. All that seemed like distant memories. Everything from when he was smoking crack was just filed into one confused bucket, and Turner couldn’t get anything coherent out of that bucket.
“Aaaaah…” Turner recalled now. Back when he was living on the streets, man stuff was something that just sort of happened — he’d wake up sixty-nining a man and have no idea why or when he started. Not just men, mind you, he’d participated in some massive orgies, spent hours licking tight pussies and generally just gotten laid way more often than you might think a hobo did.
It had happened a lot less since he quit the drugs, and even less since he got married. He couldn’t even remember the last time he got jacked off by a man. There weren’t nothing wrong with it, as he saw back before he became a Christian. Nowadays, of course… everything that ain’t Christ-full is a sin, and Christ was nowhere to be found in this funk-stinky closet. Turner moaned and gripped Avery’s head, drilling back and forth as he slid his dick down Avery’s throat.
“C’mon, boy, get it down deep…” His voice was hot, gruff, urban and throaty, and Avery wanted to tease him so he’d keep talking and making demands. So Avery just licked his shaft instead of jacking on it. That was hot enough to get Turner hard, but he still found it frustrating. “C’mon, boy, what’choo doin’? You just playin’? Ain’t ya? You ain’t takin’ nothin’ seriously, I see that. You wanted to jack on it, so put it in ya mouth, son, and swallow.”
“Hmmm… Okay,” Avery said with a flirty giggle that made Turner grunt. Avery deep-throated his shaft in one smooth motion. Turner grunted again, and his whole body shook.
“Damn…” Turner couldn’t remember if he’d ever been jacked off this good by a male. His cock throbbed at full erection, and it rubbed in Avery’s throat, which squeezed the shaft and sent wave after wave of pleasure through Turner’s body.
He stood on his toes and threw his head back so hard his mullet slammed into a shelf, and Turner groaned in pain. He lifted his hands up, unsure if he should hold Avery’s head or not — would that be too gross? Would Avery dislike it? Would it make Avery go slower or worse? Turner didn’t want to do anything that would interrupt the mind-blowing pleasure suddenly flowing through his veins.
“You ready… to smash?” Avery asked with another flirty laugh. He recognized that Turner liked that feminine sound, so he did it again and again as he turned around and bent over.
“Hmm-hmm…” Turner couldn’t believe how much like a female Avery’s ass felt. It was plump and smooth and round and had a very feminine shape. He turned out the light, bathing the closet in darkness and making it almost impossible to tell that Avery was not a woman. Turner murmured a brief prayer begging for forgiveness, but he reminded God that he had merely fallen prey to a victimless (nearly-so) sin because he was so uncontrollably horny since his wife no longer jacked him off.
Should I divorce her?
That thought sent a chill up Turner’s spine. He didn’t want to divorce her. His church didn’t even allow it. He couldn’t even ponder that. He’d have to find a way to make the marriage work.
The nice thing about cornholing males, Turner thought but didn’t say, was that anal was “allowed” — not really “allowed”, of course, but anal wasn’t especially prohibited if it was with a man. Turner hadn’t cornholed his wife in the ass because that was a sin (and because she said no). Jacking off with a man was already lust, and that’s a sin in the Bible, so what did it matter in which hole it occurred?
Turner grinned, glad that it was too dark in here for Avery to see how excited he was. He hadn’t cornholed anyone in the ass in years, and he didn’t do anal sex with his wife because it was forbidden in the Bible, or so Turner did believe. He spread Avery’s cheeks and slipped his dick in, awkwardly at first because it was dark and he was unpracticed — and he didn’t want to touch Avery’s ass any more than absolutely necessary.
“Damn!” Avery bit his lip as a jolt of pain hit him. His asshole stretched. Once the tip got in though, he accommodated Turner’s cock the best he could, and he was able to allow more and more of that massive slab of manhood to fill him up.
“Shit, boy, take it…” Turner murmured, his voice soft because people could be heard walking by the supply closet. It wasn’t lockable. Someone could come in any time. That seemed unlikely, simply because nobody here had any reason to open the supply closet, except for Turner himself.
Avery’s head hit the door, making it rattle. He gasped and tried to squirm away, but Turner was oblivious — and didn’t care that much about being caught — and just kept cornholing. Avery let out a howl of desire, which he covered up by biting his lip. The door would have rattled loudly on its hinges, but Avery instead pressed it hard, forcing it to sit tautly in its threshold rather than loosely moving with Avery’s writhing. Vast pleasure wracked Avery’s body, making him writhe and twist in Turner’s grasp. Avery panted and begged for more.
Turner moaned. It was a loud sound, but it didn’t carry well and its origin wasn’t obvious to the few students walking past the closet. They looked around, but assumed it was someone making a joke. Avery would have screamed if he could, but the pleasure that exploded throughout his body was so intense it was all he could do to breathe heavily.
“Shit…” Avery whispered. He jutted his ass back to meet Turner’s dick, until his smooth cheeks rubbed against Turner’s coarse pubic hair. Turner’s balls slapped against his asscheeks.
“Here I go, boy, take it, you gonna take e’ry drop, right? I don’t wanna pull out. Don’t make me spill my seed-“
“No, don’t pull out. Cum inside me, please, please…” Avery said breathlessly. He leaned against the door, just inches from the people filing by in the hallway.
Cum sprayed into him, great creamy torrents of it. His semen was thick and warm, the heat seeping into Avery’s flesh in waves. Turner kept going — he’d been trying not to masturbate lately, and his wife hadn’t been putting out — because he was so horny it hurt. His balls felt over-full, like he was a young man again, and all he could think about was creaming Avery’s ass with his load.
It kept flowing, wad after creamy wad jetting into Avery’s guts. Avery jacked himself off onto the door itself, but Turner didn’t even notice that. He was entirely focused on his own desire. A part of him did notice his cell phone beep, but he ignored it. He just gripped Avery’s asscheeks and held on tight.
“”Hell yeah, boy…” Turner moaned. He stayed in, even as his dick limpened. He didn’t pull it out. He just watched it throb in Avery’s clenching ass.
Eventually, however, Avery had had enough. He pulled off Turner’s cock and sighed. He grabbed some paper towels from one of the shelves and cleaned his ass off, and Turner’s cock too. When he touched the shaft, Turner’s whole body shook and his muscles flexed all together.
“Damn, Turner, that was good,” Avery said with a giggle. “I’m glad you decided to sin with me.”
“Will you go to church with me on Sunday?” Turner asked even before his breathing had recovered. He wiped sweat off his forehead.
“Uh…”
“I done somethin’ wit’ you, you should do somethin’ wit’ me,” Turner said. “I tell you what: I meet you early, okay? You pick me up in the car you about to give me. You can touch me up all kinda ways. Once we get there, I gonna be recommittin’ myself to a life of virtue, and so will you, I hope, wit’ God’s love. We both gonna be seekin’ forgiveness, and we gonna get it, son.”
“Oh, uh, well… Okay,” Avery said. He sighed. Had he really just agreed to go to church? At least, he thought, he’d get to mess around beforehand. He’d have never agreed if he was foggy with post-nut brain.
Turner finally remembered his cell phone beeped. He took it out of his pocket and scowled. “Car’s gone. She said it got stolen.”
“You don’t believe her.”
“She done sold it, I know that. She got a big ol’ bag of crack. I bet I won’t see he for a couple days, she gonna be talkin’ ’bout she at her sister’s,” Turner said. He sighed. “Guess I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Yeah, see you then,” Avery said. “I can’t wait to make you forget about her.”

The Sailor’s Armpits

Rob loves raunchy men, so when he goes to the docks, it’s time to worship the sweat-soaked filth of a Greek sailor’s unwashed armpits! Can Rob handle the raunch?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum.” Rob stood dockside as men streamed off the S.S. Admiral Smikovsk. They were a diverse group of men: Jamaicans, Brazilians, Greeks, Filipinos, Nigerians, Nicaraguans, probably more, but Rob most expected those nationalities based on his inspection of the ship’s manifest. They were deliciously filthy, with blackish smudges of soot and coal on their skin, unwashed beards from weeks at sea, most of them with half-hardons from the moment they walked off the ship.
The reason most of them had hardons was the same reason Rob found it difficult to get the men he wanted — they were macho, and there were women galore.
“Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum. Eat your ass.” Rob made eye contact with as many of them as he could. They mostly winced and looked away.
“Hey. Hey, whatcha doin’?” said a stout man with a colorful hat and a dour disposition. Rob didn’t need to be an expert to identify him as a pimp. The pimp scowled at him. “You bein’ a distraction, boy.” He sucked on his teeth. His New Jersey stawk was thick and cloying, like he spoke through a layer of engine oil. “My girls is busy, y’know, ya feel me, boy? They lookin’ for a man. That’s all. They need a date for tonight, and maybe tomorrow night too. Ya feel me, boy? I bet you do.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. “Nobody’s taken me up on it, so I don’t think I’ve stolen any of your clients-“
“What’d I just fuckin’ say? Huh? Did I say you was distracting they clients? That ain’t even… They don’t see clients, okay, they are serious ladies, doing serious things… with their boyfriends, understand me? They’s out here looking for boyfriends, and sometimes, they just might find one. Ain’t nothin’ improper goin’ on here. What I accused you of, however, that’s improper — I said you was bein’ distracting. Girls is distracted real easy. It’s them tits, it keeps ’em from gettin’ focused. That’s why men with big chests is dumbasses too, and that’s a fact. I know you ain’t gonna steal none of my girls’s boyfriend. That’s on account of these men don’t cotton to perverts, and my girls know how to satisfy a man. Ya understand me?”
“Uh-huh. I see your point,” Rob said.
“You wanna work for me? I can help you find dick,” the pimp said with a frown like he really hoped Rob would say no.
“No, thank you. I’m very good at that already.”
“Thank god,” the pimp said. “Look, you had best get the fuck off my dock. My girls work here-“
“But I’m not stealing your business-“
“You is stealin’ my girls’s hearts! They ain’t gonna be so eager to find new boyfriends when they see you offerin’ to get on ya knees for nothin’. It’s discouraging to my girls’s capitalistic spirit, ya feel me?”
“I guess…” Rob gulped. This pimp scared him. Rob mumbled an apology and walked away. He entered the crowd of men walking away from the dock. The lanky Latino walking past him had a visible hardon bulging against the fabric of his sailor’s bellbottoms. He popped the low collar of his shirt. The Latino was already touching his dick through his pants as he approached the rather trashy women calling for him on land.
“Swallow your cum?” Rob said, but the Latino completely ignored him. He took his dick out, said something in Spanish and disappeared among the prostitutes. His cock hung free as he raced to take out the wad of cash in his pocket. Rob watched it dangle and twitch, getting hard, the foreskin slowly retracting as the Latino stroked it.
The docks were amazing. Rob didn’t want to leave without seeing the docks, and to bathe in the glorious hunks who filled it with their muscles and swagger and massive cocks. Men had poured out of the ship, hardons already evident — they knew there were girls waiting for them. The girls smiled and cooed, and blushed bashfully when the men kissed them and took out their cocks.
“Go’n, hoss!”
“Do it, Lyle!”
“Lyle, Lyle, Lyle!”
Lyle turned out to be a rather skinny young farmlad in an ill-fitting sailor’s uniform — obviously new to the merchant marine — who approached Rob with a nervous tremble. He gulped and went pale, fingers trembling as he let his massive dick flop out. He lowered his bellbottoms just enough to bare his crotch as he looked away, watching his friends instead of Rob.
His friends laughed so hard Rob couldn’t tell what was going on. Obviously this was some sort of joke or prank, or a hazing episode. Rob touched Lyle’s cock, which twitched beneath his fingers, and then Lyle went running back to his buddies with his eyes opened wide.
“He did it!”
“You squeamish pansy! It’s just a goddamn finger!”
One of the older sailors with Lyle looked at Rob. “Go to prison, pervert! You’ll find plenty of men there.” Then they all walked away. Lyle’s cheeks were bright red. His friends clasped him on the back, and one of them even grabbed Lyle’s cock as a joke, making them all laugh.
Rob was left alone. The S.S. Admiral Smikovsk was empty of people now, presumably. Rob watched the prostitutes pair off (in some cases in larger ratios than pairs). It seemed so far that this dock was more difficult than he had thought.
It had seemed easy. Sailors loved to get a load off and needed money and weren’t usually too squeamish about man-on-man contact. That was perfect.
But those prostitutes… it was hard to get a man to swing downlow with a gaggle of beautiful women beckoning. Or at least somewhat attractive women, Rob thought, whose lack of attractiveness was equivalent to their willingness to fuck. He sighed and decided to go back to his hotel. It was run-down and nasty, crawling with trashy man who, Rob suspected, would be willing to let him swing on their meat for a little consideration. However, Rob didn’t want that. He was here to get a taste of a raunchy sailor. What was the point of visiting a port city if not to jerk off some sailors?
Maybe, he thought, he should find a bar frequented by sailors. Whoever was unable or unwilling to find/pay a female would still be there late at night, and Rob might be able to get a taste of sailor meat then. Of course they’d be drunk, which was disappointing — Rob preferred his men fully conscious.
He turned around, but then stopped because he heard shouting from onboard the ship. The only word he could hear clearly was fuck, but there were definitely other insults, some of which were not in English.
Then two men were visible, and Rob’s knees went weak. One of them — presumably the captain — was a stout older man with an unappealing beard. Rob ignored him and zeroed in on the second man.
He was Nikos — Rob got that from the shouting — and he was the strongest sailor Rob had seen yet. He was tall and broad-shouldered, Greek with swarthy skin the color of toasted grain and an intensely hooked nose, a square jaw like a warrior, and so much body hair his sailor’s uniform barely fit. The fur poked out the wide collar. He was muscular but not big, and he walked with a heavy gait, like his boots were cast-iron.
He was utterly filthy. Rob had no idea why, but would soon learn that Nikos had snuck a rather large amount of alcohol onboard at the last port, and had been selling it at rather exorbitant prices to the other sailors. He had been punished by being sent to shovel coal for the last few days, and at such a feverish work-schedule that he didn’t bathe during that time.
So his clothes were plastered to his skin with sweat, and smudges of black coal dust and soot splattered over and stained much of his face. His clothes appeared to be more clean of coal — presumably he had dug coal naked, or at least in different clothes than these, but wearing them over his foul body had soaked them in sweat and dirt.
“You no-good pissant! When you come back, I’ll search you so good I will tickle your tonsils from behind! If you ever try to sneak that shit on my ship again, I swear to Christ, Nikos-!”
That was all Rob heard because Nikos turned around and exploded in anger as well. He shouted in Greek, fingers running through his dense, tangled mat of black curls. He made some sort of rude gesture that Rob didn’t understand. It wasn’t clear who he shouted at, as the port crawled with sailors, laughing, pointing, shouting at each other. Nikos must have been talking to one of them.
Eventually Nikos made it to the dock, away from the ship and his captain amd whoever he was arguing with a moment ago. He scowled, but he didn’t seem to notice Rob at all. He turned around and made that gesture again, which raised his arms and bared his armpits just inches from Rob’s face — Nikos still hadn’t noticed Rob because he was focused on his argument — sending a wave of intensely acrid sweat over Rob’s nostrils. It was funky and wild, and it made Rob’s heart skip a beat.
That gave Rob an idea. He hadn’t given much thought to what he wanted to do with his sailors — usually he had to let his men choose what they were comfortable with, since many wouldn’t go as far as Rob wanted.
But those armpits were incredible. He was so hairy Rob drooled to look at him. That bushy beard, and the dense growth of armpit hair that looked like a whole nother crotch. Rob giggled, eyes mesmerized by the sight of Nikos’s arm-bush, nose wrinkling at the waves of stale, fetish man-scent that assaulted his nostrils.
“Suck your armpits. Suck your armpits.” Rob’s dick stiffened as Nikos’s greasy body wafted his stink over Rob’s face. “Suck your armpits. I’ll suck your armpits, lick all that sweat up. I’ll worship your armpits.”
But Nikos just muttered to himself in Greek, paying no mind to the small, lithe man talking about armpits next to him. He took a wallet out of his pocket, then a coin-purse. He counted his change. He had very little weekend. He wasn’t getting paid today — he had leave for the weekend, but the captain had refused to pay him due to his continued disobedience. That’s what he was shouting about when he caught Rob’s attention.
He gulped. He barely had enough to buy a meal tonight. He certainly wouldn’t be able to get drunk or hire a prostitute. He could rob someone, he thought, he sometimes did that — he wasn’t a bad man, and he’d never hurt anyone, but he did sometimes rob rich people to fund his lifestyle.
“Lick your armpits. Hey, uh, man? I’ll lick your armpits for twenty bucks. I’ll give you twenty bucks to let me go at your armpits-“
Finally Nikos turned around and realized Rob was speaking to him. It took him a moment to process what Rob had said. Then he furrowed his brow.
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars,” Rob said. He pulled out a stack of twenty-dollar bills — that was enough by far to get drunk, eat a fine meal, fuck a woman — possibly not even a prostitute — and pay for a hotel room by himself. He dangled it in front of Nikos’s face.
Nikos’s eyes opened wide. “What?” He had a noticeable Greek accent, but it wasn’t real heavy. He had been speaking English since he was a boy. He had learned it from a Brit though, so some of his words were tinged with an upper-class British accent.
“I want to lick your armpits, suck them all over, drink all your sweat,” Rob said. He came closer. “Please? Let me lick your pits.”
“Lick my armpits? Why? What does that mean?”
“It means…. Exactly what it sounds like. I want to lick your armpits. I’m into pit worship,” Rob said. He blushed a little at Nikos’s harsh glare. Of course pit worship was not a known thing to most men, so Nikos had to deduce what it meant. He still assumed he had missed something, but he didn’t want to look like a fool by asking again.
Nikos nodded. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby who knew him. Nobody seemed to be paying much attention anyway — sailors went straight for the girls and ignored pretty much everything else. Virtually no one had even yet clocked Rob’s existence. Nikos tried to grab the money from Rob, but Rob tucked it back away in his pocket.
“I will need the money to rent a hotel room,” Nikos said. “So I can shower. Then I will… I will let you do what you wish.”
Rob shook his head. “You have completely misjudged the point of pit worship. Let’s go, I know a spot.”
“What do you mean? Misjudged how? What is pit worship?”
“I already said,” Rob said with a laugh. “It’s licking your armpits. Like, a lot. You misjudged because you thought I wanted you to shower first. That ruins the whole thing. There’s no point in you showering first. I might as well lick a bar of soap. I want to suck your armpits.”
Nikos frowned like he was confused. His English was good, but he assumed he was missing something. “I will not… You may not put your… manhood, uh… in my armpit.”
Rob rolled his eyes, having difficulty controlling not laughing at Nikos. “That’s not my intent. Neat idea, but not my plan. Maybe somebody else, some other time.” He led Nikos into an alley near the beach, where there was a little concealed area behind a mound of trash in the back of the alley.
Nikos wrinkled his nose. “I feel dirty already, I am very sweaty and you will not enjoy my body odor-“
“Oh my god, Nikos, you still don’t get it. How did your people invent democracy? Okay, stop talking, you’re making me even hornier,” Rob said. “I’m gonna blow my wad early.” As soon as they were both behind the mound of trash, Rob dove his face into Nikos’s chest. He had that sailor’s shirt with the very open collar, so Rob could get right into the greasy valley between Nikos’s pecs, which were especially firm right now because he had been using them for days to shovel coal. Nikos’s eyes opened wide.
To Nikos, doing anything like this when he was sober was a new experience. He had been raised to believe it was only an ex-con would ramrod a man knowingly, but in the merchant marine that qualifier — knowingly — had evolved to the point that it barely seemed to matter. As long as the sailor could pretend he thought it was a woman, it wasn’t “knowingly sinful” and therefore didn’t count.
A lot of times, ships had one or two sailors who would put on fishnet stockings and spray on some perfume, and everybody would pretend to think they were a real woman. Nikos did that too. Pretending made it feel more real, and he could ramrod those men for hours fooling himself that he was making love to a woman.
But he was sober now and couldn’t pretend to be confused, and there was a chance he could fuck a real woman. Rob wasn’t even bothering to dress like a lady or wear a wig, or even any perfume. Nikos stood there like a statue because he didn’t want to give the impression that he was becoming aroused and because he still wasn’t sure what Rob was doing or what he expecte from Nikos.
“I will need a woman to get hard. Or at least you will need to act like a woman,” Nikos said with an embarrassed grunt as Rob pulled his bellbottoms down. His trunk-like thighs were covered in dense, coarse black hairs, matted to his skin with sweat. Rob licked a trail from his thighs up his chest — lifting his shirt up over his body — and sucking down all the sweat he could get to. He was surprised and elated to see Nikos didn’t wear any underwear, his dick just flopped freely out, uncut and gleaming.
The scent of his unwashed crotch was acrid and intense, and it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. He gave Nikos’s dick a stroke, just to get him started. It throbbed in his hand. It was hot and clammy, unwashed for days, maybe more than a week. Nikos furrowed his brow like he only just now understood what was happening.
“How long will this take? I can’t spend all evening-“
“Relax, just gimme… an hour. Less than an hour, probably,” Rob said. “Lift your arms.” He nuzzled Nikos’s armpit with his arms tightly at his side, then he lifted them and the fragrantly fruity scent of his rancid armpits hit Rob’s nostrils.
“Ah…. That is nasty. You’re just licking my armpit. What… is that?” Nikos said, furrowing his brow as he watched. He was surprised to learn that Rob had been entirely literal about licking his pits.
It was somewhat ticklish, but Nikos at first didn’t think much of it. It was an awkward situation, standing with another man in a disgusting alley, worrying that someone might come around the corner anytime. He kept looking up to be sure no windows aimed down here on this side of the trash.
But it wasn’t unpleasant. Nikos’s dick wouldn’t get hard like this — which was fine with Rob, since he would rather drag this out — yet it did throb a bit beneath Rob’s touch. Rob even dropped his own pants and let his dick joust with Nikos’s as he slathered spit all over Nikos’s armpit. He slurped down every drop of sweat, and he sucked on every one of the fine hairs of Nikos’s armpits.
Saliva dripped down his powerful chest, matting his body hair to his skin. Nikos still tried not to think about it. Looking at it was gross because Nikos didn’t want to think about what that would taste like. It was probably so moist with sweat, he thought, and gritty with salt, and bitter from the coal dust. Watching Rob’s tongue made Nikos’s tongue taste it too, so he looked away.
Rob moaned. His own cock leaked precum over Nikos’s shaft. Nikos ignored it — he and his fellow Greek sailors thought little of touching dicks when they shared a prostitute, so letting Rob joust with him didn’t feel so strange. He was not squeamish, after all. He sighed.
Was this really going to take an hour? An hour of his armpit being licked? Nikos sighed again, even louder, and rolled his eyes as Rob switched to his other freshly-funky armpit.
Still, for two hundred dollars, Nikos could spend an hour.
The taste was potent and pure stank all over again. Rob moaned, his voice breaking, his whole body cringing. Precum flowed freely over Nikos’s shaft now, which gleamed, sticky and creamy. Nikos was almost hard now.
And then, like a switch being flicked, it felt good.
Nikos’s grunted and moaned. His knees went weak, and for a moment, Rob supported him with his hands on Nikos’s dick. His heavy, sweat-slickened body rubbed against Rob, who could never have held him up for more than a few seconds. Nikos leaned against the brick wall.
He threw his head back and moaned. He couldn’t believe that his armpits felt good. It was his dick that really sent waves of pleasure through his body, but it was Rob’s tongue snaking back and forth between both armpits that made that pleasure grow, giving him an erection that throbbed against Rob’s own hardon.
Both men’s precum flowed over their shafts, lubricating Rob’s hands, which both rubbed up and down in sync with Rob’s tongue flickering over the moist valley of Nikos’s armpits. His biceps were huge and firm, flexed hard as brick now.
“Ah, goddamn, I’m going to-” Nikos bit his lip, and his whole muscled body shook as he orgasmed. It looked so intense it hurt. His knees buckled again, but he leaned against the wall for support instead of relying on Rob.
Rob dropped to his knees, kneeling among the spilled trash bags. He hurried to lower his head and let both of Nikos’s heavy, sour balls plop into his open mouth.
He kept both hands on Nikos’s shaft, which was already throbbing and beginning to spray his first wad of cum when his sac slipped into Rob’s mouth. Having not showered in days, his balls stank powerfully, the sweat dripping in rivers down Rob’s throat. Even though Rob loved mansweat of any kind and in any quantity, this was enough to make him gag and choke.
It certainly didn’t stop him though. His tongue snaked out to Nikos’s nasty taint as cum sprayed up. Rob jacked his cock off with both hands, giggling at the feel of his balls rising up in his sac. Rob could sense the cum coursing up his sac as wad after wad shot straight up.
“Ah, damn…” Nikos grunted. “Nai, afto efnai kalo…” He repeated that a few times — Rob didn’t know Greek, and he was too involved in suckling Nikos’s sweaty ballsac to ask.
Some of it coated Nikos’s chest, matting his fur to his skin, but much of it just dripped right back down on Nikos’s shaft or on Rob’s face. Nikos shuddered and shook. He was surprised at how good it felt, since after all, it was “technically speaking”, just a handjob. His dick hadn’t even gotten wet.
But Rob gave surprisingly expert handjobs, and Nikos he shot a massive load that coated Rob’s face and Nikos’s dick, where it dripped down onto Rob’s body. Then Rob licked a trail up from Nikos’s nasty balls — which now just smelled of saliva — back to his shaft. Rob sucked down every drop of sour-sweet cum there, the saltiness bringing tears to his eyes. He loudly slurped on the mess of fluids on Nikos’s cockshaft, and the sensation of Rob’s mouth on his sensitive knob made Nikos gasp, muscles rippling, as he stood up on his toes.
At last, he was done, Rob’s own load congealing warmly on the trashy pavement. Rob sat back and plopped his ass on the garbage. He lazily reached up to stroke Nikos’s limp dick, making Nikos’s hairy body tremble with post-orgasmic bliss. His brown skin had already gleamed with sweat, but now much of it was covered in either semen or spit or both, so he was positively shimmery.
Nikos suddenly felt cold and dirty. He really wanted to take a shower, and he was annoyed that he hadn’t been able to before leaving the ship. He let out a menacing growl when he realized Rob hadn’t paid him yet. Rob hurried to hand over the money, the full two hundred dollars, which he counted out in twenty-dollar bills in Nikos’s hand.
“Have fun this weekend,” Rob said. “When you find a prostitute, you should pay extra to fuck her in the ass.”
“Why?”
Rob shrugged like the answer should have been obvious. “Because it’s awesome.” He laughed. “Or so I’ve been told, I don’t know much about women.”
Nikos grunted and put his clothes on. Now that he had his money, all he could really think about was getting away from Rob before he blew his reputation. That and he still desperately needed a shower. He walked away, ignoring Rob’s eyes aimed at his ass.
Rob smiled and sighed. He leaned back in the garbage. Had he had his fill of sailor meat? He thought so. But it was just armpits, there were more sailors and more body parts, and Rob was ready to track down every single one.

The Groomsmen

Avery meets a trio of hunky groomsmen at a Jewish wedding, and when he offers to pay for their party at a strip club, they agree to let him take a taste of their alpha male meat! Can this wedding crasher service all three groomsmen?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

When Avery first crashed the wedding at Temple Mann Asaf, he had no intention of doing anything more than eating some free shrimp and getting drunk off an open bar. But it turned out to be a dry wedding — apparently the bride had a nasty history of alcoholism — and there weren’t even any shrimp because this was a Jewish wedding. The disappointments just kept on coming.
The groom was a college frat bro-turned-car salesman with a square jaw like a Roman nobleman, dark hair and a body that could barely be contained by his tuxedo. Avery was a keen appreciator of the male form, and Samuel Feinman had a fantastic one. So did the groomsmen. Avery enjoyed a man who could rock a tux and yarmulke.
Nobody had to tell Avery that the groomsmen were the groom’s frat brothers and probably his teammates too, most likely teammates in some silly frat bro sport like quidditch or ultimate frisbee. They looked and acted like frat boys. They laughed loudly and carried on throughout the reception, they ate like pigs, argued incessantly and called each other “bro” over and over. They were disgusting, rude and exuded masculinity, and Avery couldn’t look away.
Avery still wasn’t sure what to do or how to get close to them without revealing that he was a wedding crasher. But he lightbulbed up when he went to the bathroom — the main men’s room was full, but he found a different one at the end of the back hall — and saw one of the groomsmen there, having just finished up his piss.
“Hey,” Avery said. “You’re the best man, right?”
“Yeah, bro,” he said. He nodded back at Avery. “I’m Charlie Chodorow. Chuckles to my friends.”
“Well, Chuckles… Are you taking the guys out to a strip club later?”
“What?”
“Is that not a tradition around here? Where I’m from, the best man has to take the groomsmen to a strip club after the reception. The groom goes on the honeymoon, and the groomsmen get blowjobs from cokeheads, or whatever,” Avery said with a casual grin.
“Oh, no, Jews don’t do that. We’re not a cool enough religion to get blowjobs from strippers.”
“You sure? It’s a baller move.”
“Bro, I don’t got enough money for that. I could barely afford to go to the strip club by myself,” he said. He chuckled and blushed a little. “I’m not the rich kind of Jew. I’m a poor mofo, bro.”
“I could pay.”
“What? You’d pay? Who are you anyway?”
“My name is Avery. I’m a friend of Samuel’s from way back. I’d want something in return, of course…” Avery said. “I’d like to jack off you and your groomsmen buddies. What do you think? I’ll give you five hundred dollars.”
“Hell yeah.” He paused like he hadn’t meant to agree so readily. “I mean… Whatever, maybe. Like six hundred dollars-“
“Nope, five hundred.”
“Man! Come on, I…”
“You agreed to five hundred, sorry. Learn to negotiate,” Avery said. “You really are bad at being Jewish.” He dropped to his knees and massaged Chuckles’s cock through his slacks.
Chuckles blushed hard and rolled his eyes. “I know,” he said. His cheeks turned pinkish like a baby’s butt.
“You ever let a man jack you off before?”
He sighed. “Not sober. Not deliberately. My bros tricked me once…” He winced as Avery unzipped his slacks and pulled his long, floppy dick out through the fly. Chuckles blushed intensely. “Damn, bro, you are like a vacuum cleaner for cock.” His voice broke as his meat disappeared into Avery’s mouth.
Almost immediately it stiffened and stuck up straight in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled and moaned, savoring the clean flavor and salty taste of that rock-hard slab of meat. A little spit dripped off Avery’s lips and into the fabric of Chuckles’s slacks.
“Hey. Uh-huh.” Chuckles called one of the other groomsmen. “Hey, you two wanna go to the strip club? I dunno, I guess the Pink Fold. Ew, no way, Lipsweet is nasty! That chick had a c-section scar, bro! And the stripper with the hairy legs!” He laughed so hard his cock spasmed in Avery’s mouth. Chuckles ran his fingers through his hair. “So, uh… I can’t afford it and I know you can’t either. But there’s this guy… Uh… You remember Raython? Yeah. You remember how he made money?” Chuckles groaned and chuckled. “No, not that way. I mean the way that’s legal — or well, less illegal than that. Yeah, that’s it. Shut up, bro. It isn’t like that.”
Avery moved down to Chuckles’s balls. He pulled that entire sac out of Chuckles’s slacks and slurped all the sweat up. He let both balls fill up his mouth and he gurgled on them loudly, making Chuckles grunt, shake and blush as he tried to continue his conversation.
“Yeah. He slurpin’ on my balls right now, yo! I am not fuckin’ with you, bro. You wanna hear?” He put the phone down near his balls. Avery made some especially loud ball-slurping sounds. He heard a masculine voice laughing on the other end.
Chuckles laughed too. “See? Don’t tell me you don’t know what teabagging sounds like. What?” He looked at Avery. “Hey, does the Torah forbid this on Shavuot?”
Avery shrugged. “You’re the Jew.”
“We’ve already established I’m bad at being Jewish, you don’t need to rub it in. Nobody ever told me anything about abstaining from busting a nut on Shavuot.” He spoke back into his phone again. “Look, it’s not a big deal. He’s gonna jack us off, and he’ll pay five hundred bucks. We could have a good time at the Pink Fold for that. At the Pink Fold, five hundred dollars makes us kings. We could buy the damn club and make her shave her legs.” He paused. “Yeah, I volunteered your cock, and Hopper’s too. It’s too late, I already agreed on your behalf. If you back out now, the po-po’s gonna come and make you get you do it. Uh-huh. Okay.” Chuckles looked down at Avery. “Hey, we’re gonna tell Hopper he has to put it in your ass for the five hunnies, okay? You do that, right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Chuckles spoke into the phone again. “He said that’s fine. I know, hilarious, bro.” He smiled at Avery. “Just get out here, to the bathroom in the back hall.” He hung up the phone as a bolt of pleasure shot up his spine, making him moan again. He leaned against the wall.
“Hey, we’re gonna…” Chuckles began to speak but his voice trailed off as he lost track of his words. He looked down at his veiny cock throbbing in Avery’s mouth. He cleared his throat. “That tall groomsman is Hopper — not who I was just talking to, he’s Pud — Hopper is the one who’ll stick you in the ass. He, uh… He jumped over this hedge once, that’s where he got the name. Ah shit, fuck…” He closed his eyes and raised his arms to lean on the sink for support. His knees buckled and his tie shook, dangling in front of his barrel chest.
His phone rang. It was so surprising it made Chuckles’s dick twitch. He sighed and looked at the phone. It was Hopper, and he swore.
“What?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Hopper. Too bad. You wanna go to the strip club right? You always wanna go — I don’t think “leftover money” is a thing, but fine, you can have it. I am getting lap dances though, asshole. Don’t even try — nope! No! No way, Hopper! You are not wasting five hundred dollars buying drinks for strippers, bro!” He paused and bristled. “Man, shut up, I can’t stay hard listenin’ to your voice. He swallows dick good, and he got a nice ass. You’ll like it.” He made a flapping “talking too much” motion with his hand.
Avery’s hands roamed up Chuckles’s body. He loved men in suits, and he loved feeling Chuckles’s muscles beneath the suit fabric. His muscles were tense and tight, both because he was nervous about getting jacked off by a man and because he was excited about busting a nut.
“He’s hotter than that Asian chick. Don’t even give me that, bro, you licked her asshole and she looked like Jackie Chan, but less hot. You said it tasted like those baby ears of corn! Don’t even say that, bro, don’t even- Uh-huh.” Chuckles laughed so hard his face turned red. “C’mon, bro, you’ll smash anything in the ass. That’s why I don’t let you in a room alone with my dog.” He laughed so hard his face turned red. His whole body buckled. He gasped, the intensity of his laughter and the anxiety of his conversation making it hard for him to concentrate on remaining upright and holding the phone.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. Hey, bro! Chuckles!
Chuckles hurriedly got off the phone with Hopper and opened the door a crack. He took great pains to sidle over there to the door slowly so that Avery didn’t have to stop working on his cock. Spit ran down the shaft as Avery slurped up the precum sliding out.
“Hey, Pud,” Chuckles said.
The third groomsman was Asher Idelson, or “Pud” to his Zeta Tau Sigma friends. He tried to come into the bathroom, but Chuckles held the door open just a crack. Chuckles’s muscles strained beneath his suit.
“Wait up, out there,” Chuckles said, breathless, distracted as his veins throbbed in Avery’s mouth. He grunted. “I’m gonna nut in a minute.”
“So we can’t see it? I wanna see this dude-“
“Why? He’s just a dude. There’s nothing to look at.”
“I wanna see the money. He could cheat us.”
“You’re too stupid to count it anyway, what do you know?” Chuckles said with a grin. His cock throbbed mightily, and precum flowed down Avery’s throat. Avery was surprised that Chuckles hadn’t cum yet — he had felt like he was on the verge right before the knock on the door. The distraction, Avery thought, seemed to inhibit him. That was fine with Avery, who would have gladly jacked him off all night long.
“Bro, what’s up? Why don’t you want me in there?”
“We’re taking turns,” Chuckles said.
“What? I’m not gonna push in before you’re done, bro, just lemme in.”
“Why you wanna watch me so bad? Huh? You tryin’ to sneak a peek at my cock, bro?” Chuckles’s voice seemed plaintive, almost like he was about to cry. It was enough to make Avery look up at him.
But it wasn’t that — it was an orgasm. Chuckles nutted as he continued to argue with Pud, who pushed on the door and grabbed for Chuckles’s muscled shoulder through the doorway. Chuckles’s whole body shook and he grunted.
“Ew, bro! Are you blowin’ your wad right now?! Holy shit, bro!” Pud screamed on the other side of the door. His hands were on Chuckles’s shoulder, so Pud must have been able to sense the orgasm in the rippling of Chuckles’s muscles. “He’s all down your zakhrut, dude.”
Chuckles’s face turned bright red — that was normal for him when he orgasmed, not a function of his embarrassment — and he bucked. He grabbed Avery’s head and rammed his dick all the way down Avery’s throat.
He groaned as he sprayed his massive wad down Avery’s gullet. It was hot and thick and creamy, and it tasted so salty it made Avery moan. He guzzled down every drop, even as he choked and sputtered on Chuckles’s massive cock.
“Aw, fuck, bro…”
With both of Chuckles’s hands on Avery’s head, he was no longer keeping the door shut. Pud came charging in — he pushed his way through as though he thought he’d have to shove Chuckles out of the way. He nearly fell over when there was no barrier.
Chuckles sighed. “Damn…”
“Oh shit, bro! You seriously just nutted! Holy shit, bro!” Pud said. He was tall and short-haired, with an angular nose and a lean, lanky body. He was built like a basketball player, Avery thought, who was getting excited already even before he had finished swallowing Chuckles’s nut.
It was clear Chuckles didn’t want to be seen by his buddy, but he hid his discomfort well now that he didn’t have a choice. He cleared his throat. He pulled his cock out and flopped it over Avery’s face.
“Damn, so I gotta do this too?” Pud asked, concealing his eyes so he didn’t have to see his bro’s cock.
Chuckles chuckled. “Yep. He’s paying for the strip club.”
Pud was quiet for a long time. “We always told Raython that it was-“
“Shut up, bro.”
“I’m just sayin’, you were the worst about that. You called Raython a rentboy cuz that dude was paying his tuition-“
“There’s a big difference in letting a dude pay for one nut and letting one pay your entire tuition,” Chuckles said.
Pud was quiet for a long time. “Not really…” Then he burst into a torrent of ticklish laughter as Avery kissed his cock through the fabric of his black slacks. When he didn’t complain, Avery pulled his dick out and jacked on the tip.
It was just as big as Chuckles’s, maybe bigger — skinny guys usually had big dicks, so Avery wasn’t surprised. Pud grabbed ahold of Avery’s head and guided it up and down on his dick, which twitched and firmed up in Avery’s mouth.
“Okay, lemme outta here…” Chuckles muttered.
Pud slammed the door shut before Chuckles could leave. They both made eye contact and laughed. Chuckles tried to pull Pud away, but Pud fought back.
“Bro, c’mon on!”
“Stay here, bro!”
“Get outta the way!”
“Don’t you wanna watch?”
“No, man! Let go, bro!” Chuckles had been red-faced from his orgasm, but as a fight very nearly broke out yet again, he turned even redder. He clawed at Pud’s suited shoulders, but Pud stood in front of the door, blocking his way. Pud leered as Chuckles scrambled to get out of the bathroom.
His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth. It was hard and throbbing, longer than Chuckles’s, though not quite as thick. That was fine with Avery, since it made it easier for him to swallow. He giggled as he took in every inch.
“Get off me!”
“Man, quit it!”
They probably would have started actually fighting by now except that Avery was in the way. Chuckles couldn’t get a good punch in — or rather, he might have been able to, but he had an instinctual need to avoid getting anywhere near his Zeta Tau Sigma brother’s cock, so he had to stretch to reach Pud or the door at all. Pud meanwhile just pushed and shoved Chuckles away, too distracted by his dick to do anything else.
“Hey, boys, quit fighting,” Avery said when the jostling got too distracting. “Shut up. I’ll give you both another hundred dollars if you kiss right now.”
“No way!”
“Nope!”
But Avery didn’t care. He assumed they’d say no anyway, he just wanted to distract them from the fight. Pud resumed grabbing ahold of Avery’s head and plowing down his throat.
“You had to think about it, bro,” Pud said.
“No I didn’t, I was just waiting for you to say no first. I thought you were gonna say yes.”
“No way! I-” Pud stopped talking then because his cock twitched in Avery’s throat. He blushed and moaned. His voice broke.
“Ah shit, you’re nutting. You’re nutting.”
“Shut up, bro, I can’t do it if you’re talking. Shut up-“
“I’m taking both hundred bucks!” Chuckles blurted out. Then he pecked Pud right on the lips, laughing so hard his face turned red as Pud sputtered and spat.
It felt like an almost violent, painful orgasm, since it was interrupted by Chuckles’s kiss — which was a pitiful kiss: dry, chaste and lasting about an eighth of a second — and Pud roared in a combination of anger, disgust, shock and arousal. The sounds coming out of both groomsmen filled the air and echoed in the tiny bathroom. Cum sprayed down Avery’s throat, the taste making him moan and groan, begging for more. He choked too, since Pud kept his cock all the way into Avery’s gullet, moaning and red-faced as he spurted his wad.
Finally he was done. He pulled out and watched his spit-dripping cock plop out of Avery’s mouth, with a wide-eyed, horrified stare like he was watching an alien monster give birth. He covered his eyes when it was over.
“Shut up, bro,” Pud said. He blushed, while Chuckles laughed so hard he was doubled over. Pud smirked. Cum dripped over Avery’s face and down his chin. “You kissed a dude, bro. That was so nasty.”
“Boys, boys, boys, relax,” Avery said. He licked off the cum that had collected on his face. “What happened to that third groomsman? Hopper?”
“I’ll call him,” Chuckles said. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey. Where are you? In the back hall, remember? What the fuck-? No, that was not a joke, man. You gotta do it. You shoulda seen it, Pud was making out with a man. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”
“He did it!” Pud shouted. “Don’t listen to him, Hopper! It was him!”
“Shut up. No, no that wasn’t nothing. Come on, bro. You gotta come stick it in this dude. Okay. Yeah. See ya.” He hung up. “He said he’d do it.”
“What? Just like that? He was saying hell no a minute ago.”
“He found out Sarah didn’t come to the wedding.”
Pud threw his hands in the air. “That boy is retarded for that girl. She doesn’t like him. She’ll never like him.”
“I know.”
“Did he really think she was gonna throw herself at him because he put on a suit?”
“Which he looks like an idiot in,” Chuckles said. “He sounded pissed.” He looked down at Avery. “Don’t worry ’bout Hopper, okay? He won’t hurt you. He looks ugly as shit, especially when he’s angry, but he won’t hurt you.”
Avery wrinkled his eyebrows. He didn’t think Hopper looked ugly, though he wasn’t surprised to hear someone else say that. Hopper was short and squat, with a rather flat face. He was built like a prison rapist, Avery had thought during the ceremony, and he looked like he never wore a suit. His face had some acne-scarring, which was unfortunate.
All told, he was not ugly. A lot of women would say he was, or that he was at least off-putting and scary. But Avery didn’t mind a man with a little roughness around the edges, as long as he could still rock a suit. Hopper looked like he was one of those guys who went straight from acne-ridden-teenager to hulking-brutish-man without a charming-handsome-college-boy phase.
Hopper virtually ripped the door off its hinges when he stormed in. He scowled and glowered at his friends in the ill-fitting suit — he was the only one of the three who appeared to not know how to wear a suit. Hopper did not look at Avery at all, as though he hadn’t even noticed him.
“Nobody told me Gerald was gonna be here,” Hopper said with a growl. “I was about to lay that fucker out.”
The other two both sighed. “Relax, Hopper.”
“Yeah, chill out, he’s different now. He’s just as annoying, but in a different way, and he’s less punchable.”
“Just cornhole this dude and we can go to the strip club.”
“I’m getting laid,” Hopper said with a growl. “If we go to the strip club, I am getting some pussy.”
“Bro, that’ll take the entire five hundred dollars-“
“Seven hundred,” Avery said. He dove his face into Hopper’s crotch and inhaled deeply of his musky scent. He smelled unclean. He unzipped his slacks and pulled his dick out. Hopper remained so angry he barely seemed to notice — though he did stop pacing, so he must have been aware.
“Yeah, seven hundred.”
“What? I thought it was five,” Hopper said, absent-minded now that he saw his cock disappearing into Avery’s throat.
“He paid us a hundred bucks each to kiss,” Chuckles said.
“I ain’t kiss him,” Pud added. “Chuckles kissed me. It was gross.”
“I didn’t even use tongue- Damn, Hopper,” Chuckles said. Hopper’s dick was hard already, and as soon as it was, he reached over to Avery’s ass to smack it. He bared Avery’s cheeks and got ready to plow into him. Chuckles chuckled nervously. “You are quick, Hopper. You goin’ straight for the ass, huh?”
“That’s what I’m getting paid for, right?” Hopper said with a growl. “Hold on, so you’re paying two hundred dollars for a kiss?”
“No!” Avery cried out. His voice broke as Hopper’s dick rammed unceremoniously into him — that was another reason he must have trouble with the women, Avery thought, he was crude and graceless like a caveman. He had gone straight to anal without even making eye contact with Avery. Avery loved it, but women didn’t. Avery submitted to Hopper’s powerful pounding and forced himself to concentrate to say anything at all. “Uh… That was just a one-time thing. I’m not paying again for a dry little peck on the lips.”
As he slid his cock into Avery’s ass, Hopper snorted. He grabbed Chuckles by the chin and planted his lips right on Chuckles’s. This time, he kissed hard, almost violently, and he slammed his tongue into Chuckles’s mouth. It was not exactly a passionate kiss, but it was much more intense than the earlier one. Pud clapped and laughed.
Hopper pulled away. He smacked one of Avery’s asscheeks. “Pay up, weirdo.”
“Okay, fine,” Avery said breathlessly, his ass stretching to accommodate Hopper’s massive meat. “That was hot.”
Chuckles coughed and blushed, wiping Hopper’s spit off his face. He took a few steps away to be sure he wasn’t within Hopper’s range if he did the same thing again. Chuckles leaned against the wall as though too shocked to support himself. His muscles rippled beneath his suit.
Hopper snorted and sniffled like a rampaging bull as it trampled a bullfighter. The room filled with the smell of his sweat, which made Avery’s dick throb in his fingers. Hopper removed his suit jacket and tossed it on the grimy bathroom floor. That revealed his sweat-soaked armpits, which in turn made Chuckles and Pud laugh.
“Damn, Hopper, calm down.”
“You’re sweatin’ like a fat girl, bro,” Pud said.
“You promised you’d use deodorant from now on-“
“I don’t live with you anymore.”
“That was a long-term agreement. It was not specific to being roommates,” Pud said with a groan.
“You two set this up, huh? I’m just doin’ what you said. I am fucking that blonde chick tonight, and you two are paying for it,” Hopper said with a snarl. He smacked Avery’s ass. “This is how you wanted to pay for it, don’t get pissy at me about it.”
Pud and Chuckles exchanged nervous glances. But they just shrugged and agreed. Avery had a feeling that, when they got to the strip club, they would refuse to pay for Hopper’s prostitute. Avery also felt sorry for Hopper, who would surely be unable to land a stripper (or most any woman) without paying for her.
But Avery didn’t mind Hopper being crude and mean to him. He loved it. He enjoyed the feeling of Hopper slamming into his asscheeks, his brutish cock tearing Avery up inside. Every time his prostate twitched, Avery moaned and squirmed on the floor.
Finally he shot his own load onto the ground. None of the groomsmen seemed to notice. Chuckles and Pud watched with baited breath — Avery got the impression that they both wanted to leave but felt an obligation to stay and protect Avery in case Hopper got violent — and shared knowing glances. Avery moaned so loud it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and made Chuckles giggle like a blushing schoolboy.
At last Hopper was done. He grabbed Avery by the throat, not squeezing him but lifting his head up forcefully. A massive wad of cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, coating his insides and making him moan blissfully. He had never felt anything quite so potent, as though he could taste every inch of Hopper’s macho muscles and feel every inch of his body stimulating Avery’s prostate.
A big, thick wad sloshed around inside Avery, getting bigger with every thrust of Hopper’s cock. He slammed his dick in over and over and made a loud, meaty slapping sound each time his balls slapped against Avery’s ass.
“Damn…”
Pud laughed, his face turned red. “That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. I’m gonna have nightmares.”
“Yeah, that was terrible,” Chuckles said. “I thought it was bad watching your nasty-ass fuck a fat chick.”
Hopper growled and mumbled. “I don’t fuck fat chicks.”
The other two laughed knowingly, but they didn’t seem to want to anger Hopper by contradicting him. They just shrugged.
Hopper took a deep breath and shook his body like a dog drying off after a rainstorm. The movement reawakened the pain and the bliss in Avery’s ass, making him moan once again. That seemed to remind Hopper that he was touching a man. He pushed Avery away and jumped to his feet.
“Damn,” Hopper said, shaking his head. He groaned as he watched a final few drops of cum leak out of his cocktip.
Avery turned around, grabbed some toilet paper, and wiped Hopper’s dick off. He always loved servicing alpha males, and as far he was concerned, cleaning up his man when he was done was an essential part of the process. Hopper watched, wrinkling his nose like he would rather remain dirty.
“Alright, you feel better, Harold?” Chuckles asked, clasping Hopper on the shoulder.
“You best pay up,” Hopper said to Avery. His nostrils flared. “You owe nine hundred dollars.”
Avery nodded. He had a thousand dollars in his wallet. He had a feeling Hopper was going to take the entire wallet when he saw the money, so Avery took all ten hundred dollar bills out. “Here’s a grand. Have a good time at the strip club, boys.”
“Ah shit, okay!”
“A bonus! You must be good at that, Hopper.”
Hopped sniffled. “We can get that blonde stripper to go out with us-“
“Hopper, no.” They opened the door and walked out, rejoining the reception. They ignored Avery as though they forgot he existed. He was fine with that. He enjoyed watching their plump asses shake in the suit-pants.
“Yeah, we’re not making friends with a stripper, Hopper. You’re never going to get one to fall in love with you. They only like you when you have money. That’s what makes them strippers.”
“You ain’t see how she was looking at me last time, bro,” Hopper said. “She liked me.” That was the last of their words that Avery could hear, though he could tell from the tone of their conversation that Pud and Chuckles were increasingly annoyed with Hopper’s reluctance to believe them. For all his grizzled scruff, Hopper seemed delightfully naive, or maybe simply optimistic.
Avery stayed there in the bathroom, naked and basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. He couldn’t believe his luck. Of all the weddings to crash, he got the one featuring three alpha groomsmen in yarmulkes with a willingness to do whatever it took to make a few dollars.
Avery couldn’t wait to get some more cash out and continue his hunt for men in suits to jack off. He wondered if the groom had any more frat brothers at the wedding.

The Idiotic Lifeguard

When Rob seeks some work as a ghostwriter, he didn’t think it would involve interviewing a hunky but dim-witted lifeguard! His name is Gavin, and he’s willing to get down and dirty with Rob in exchange for a little consideration…

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Nobody hired writers who seemed like businessmen, even if that’s exactly what Rob was — he’d started a business as a ghostwriter. Clients hired writers who seemed like J.D. Salinger or Stephen King: a little socially awkward, a little artsy, a little weird.
And the nerds who filled the Dynamic Enterprise offices were more than a little socially awkward, not to mention weird, themselves. They would have likely been intimidated if Rob said straight up, “hey, I can write ten thousand words in a day so I’ll write your stupid thing in a week rather than dilly-dallying for months like most writers”. So instead Rob dressed in a flared cuff and a colorful shirt, accentuated his flamboyant side and spoke of how his “muse spouted a stream of inspiration to fill the world with words”.
They seemed to like him. He was probably by far the coolest person to ever come into this place — which was an IT company that provided support for something to do with the Internet — Rob didn’t quite grok it when they explained what it was. He would figure it out as he wrote the “biography” of their company.
“Do you think that would work? Or does it need to be the story of a specific person? Sorry, I dunno how that works,” said a bespectacled man in an ill-fitting suit. “I don’t, uh, read a lot. Except for, like, technical manuals.”
“Certainly, certainly, people do write books about a company, rather than a specific person, sure. I find it interesting-” Rob leaned forward and put one finger on his lips as though pondering. “-that you used the word biography. Fascinating. That’s the story of a life, and I think a company can have a life… can be a life, a growing, adapting, evolving thing-“
“Yeah, like a shark.”
Everyone in the conference room turned to look at the man walking in, and they all exchanged knowing glances. Rob’s jaw dropped because the newcomer was handsome — Gavin, a blond god with broad shoulders and a square jaw, dimples like a heartthrob and a smooth chin. He had a goofy grin like a cartoon character, and his eyes flitted brightly around the room as though expecting his shark comment to get a big reaction.
He was so handsome he made Rob’s heart skip a beat, but everyone else sighed inwardly, rolled their eyes and looked away. Did this guy have a reputation?
“I, uh… I’m sorry?” Rob said.
The blond man, Gavin, came in, carefully carrying eight coffees in two cardboard holders. He didn’t seem to have realized he could carry them like a waiter, on his forearms, and instead he awkwardly leaned back and pinned them against each other. It looked like they might spill at any moment.
“Oh, uh, I- Uh — ” Gavin was distracted by setting down the coffees. “You said something about growing and evolving, right? I have this game on my phone-“
“Yeah, thanks, Gavin-” said one of the programmers.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“-And it’s about a shark, like… you’re a shark — you’re not really a shark, I mean, you’re, like, totally playing as a shark? You see? There’s evolution. Cuz you can eat like… fish and, uh…” He spaced out for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Bigger fish, and like… like, you spend points on growing and evolving.” He ran his fingers through that incredible blond mane reaching almost to his shoulders. It was ragged and uncut, and it made Rob’s eyes open wide. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair. “So, uh… sharks do that. Grow and evolve. They can evolve into killer whales, I think, at like level 30. I don’t think real sharks do that.”
“Thanks, Gavin, for the coffee.”
“Thank you, Gavin.”
They all repeated that, one by one, until Gavin got the hint and left. Then they snickered, each of them seemingly thinking of all the snarky comments they didn’t want to say. Were they being nice to Gavin because they were nice people? Because he was nice — if ditzy? Because they were told to be nice to him?
“Sorry,” one of them said. “He’s… a great guy. Not the best assistant.”
“He’s the worst assistant. Totally incompetent.”
“Honestly we only hired him because he was a lifeguard who saved Mr. Winthrop’s daughter at the beach.”
Rob’s ears perked up. Finally, one of the nerds had said something interesting. A beachfront rescue by a lifeguard is worth writing about. Rob could stretch that into 15,000 words, maybe 20k. “Can I ask him more about that? That would be a great scene for the book.”
“Really? It’s a bad business decision. He’s not even a good assistant,” the man said as he sipped from the coffee and sighed. “This is definitely soy milk. Jerry, this is for you, he mixed us up again.” He rolled his eyes. “We have two Jerrys and a Barry, and that blond dumbass can’t ever keep us apart.”
They traded coffees until they got the ones they wanted, and Rob took a few more notes. Of course, they hired him, and they didn’t even balk at Rob’s rate. He would have this written in less than a week, he thought. When Rob had floated “something like a novella”, they nodded along, so he was going to write it at maybe 40,000 words. He could bang that out in a weekend if he went to a coffeeshop with broken wifi.
Even more excitingly, they arranged for Rob to meet with Gavin at lunch the next day, to find out more about Gavin’s heroic rescue of the little girl. Rob got a skeleton of the book written containing just the facts — that was already fifteen thousand words — and wrote down some questions to ask Gavin.
That near-drowning-cum-job-offer was the only human-interest story in the company’s history, so it was going to have to have a lot of emotional resonance, Rob thought. He hoped Gavin had something interesting to say. Without that, this corporate bio was going to be dry as a desert. Nerds are boring, and the companies they found are even worse.
Rob and Gavin met up at a coffeeshop near the company’s headquarters, where Gavin filled (incorrectly) coffee orders for most of the programmers. Rob was a little early, to get his laptop set up. Gavin showed up and went straight to the counter without noticing Rob.
His ass filled out his slacks nicely. He had big thumping thighs too, Rob thought, and his shirt hung off him like a dream. He must have the most exquisite back. He was a lifeguard too, he probably has great shoulders. Rob straightened his tie.
His physique was probably stupendous. Rob was picturing it as he waited for Gavin to notice him. When he did, he nodded and waved like they were old friends, and he almost forgot to pick up his coffee and key lime pie.
“Oh man, you’re outta them? Shit, dude, that’s… ah, totally lame,” Gavin said. “Do you have more in the back?” He loved the key lime pie here. He batted his eyes at the portly girl behind the counter, who blushed and licked her lips. Gavin had no idea he was flirting. He acted that way with most girls, and he just assumed he was charismatic. The portly girl batted her eyes and ran into the back to get more of the key lime pies.
Finally Gavin sat down with a slice of key lime pie and a “coffee” that was more whipped cream than anything else. It looked like a milkshake. He must burn off so many calories to eat like that and have a body like this, Rob thought to himself, wondering if he still worked as a lifeguard. That would explain it.
“So, uh, Gavin, thanks for meeting me here. Can you tell me more about Mr. Winthrop’s daughter?”
“Oh, yeah, man, she’s sweet as pie-” He pointed to the key lime pie. “And, uh, she’s like, nine, I think, or something. She really likes the boy band Slap Five. They suck though, really, it’s like so awful.” He beatboxed his impression of a tinny pop melody. “So lame.”
“Sorry, Gavin, I’m not asking about her in general. Can you tell me more about the time you rescued her from downing?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, totally,” Gavin said. He took a big bite of key lime pie, leaving a brilliant green streak across his lower lip. “I was like, a lifeguard, like, on this beach, you know, on the Pacific Ocean. I was still living in Southern California then. And so-” He again paused to take a bite, then spoke with his mouthful. “There’s like, all these swimmers and shit, and Robby Munter said his cousin once got, like, nibbled on by a shark or something, but he didn’t get eat up cuz he drank a lot of coffee and that makes you taste bitter to sharks or whatever, like-“
“Gavin?”
“Yeah, sorry, I mean, Jean. She was like… a little girl. And I swam her into shore. And the other lifeguard on duty was this chick who got knockers out to here, man, seriously, I saw ’em once, shit, they were like fireworks, sherrrrplooowfat! And-“
“Gavin?”
“Totally, totally sweet, man, she’s got big nipples too. She’s got a boyfriend though, I think they’re married now. He’s like Persian or something. It’s ridiculous.”
“Can we get back to the story?”
“Is Persia where the cats come from? My mom has a Persian cat, it’s name is Rample and it smells like cheese.”
“Okay, Gavin, can we please talk about Jean?”
“Yeah, sorry — can we go outside? I hate being inside,” Gavin said. He flashed those big dimples and got up before waiting for an answer. Rob sighed and went with him. It was kind of cold outside, and it wouldn’t be as easy to use his laptop with the glare and the wind. But he could just record Gavin and write down what he needed later. Besides that, it was hard to say no to someone with a smile like Gavin’s.
And the way his arms nearly bulged out of that button-down shirt. It made Rob’s heart flutter. He loved macho men, and Gavin was one of the best he’d seen in a long time.
Gavin fidgeted with his tie as they sat down at the coffeeshop’s patio. Then he frowned and quickly untied it. “Is it okay if I take off my tie, sir?”
“Um, yeah. You know I’m not your boss, right? I don’t care what you wear-“
“Thank you!” Gavin quickly unbuttoned his shirt, then leaned back to display his chest for the sun. He was bronzed a deep tan color, and his body was perfect, shimmering a little in the sunlight, his six-pack rippling, his pecs flexing as he stretched. “I hate wearing shirts, man. I was a lifeguard for nine years. Shirts are like prisons for your chest, man. Totally.”
“Yeah. Cool. Okay. So… uh, Jean?” Rob looked around. This wasn’t the kind of coffeeshop that would tolerate a diner drinking coffee shirtless, but he didn’t tell Gavin that.
“Right, yeah. She’s cool. She’s sweet, man.”
“Tell me about the rescue, Gavin.” Rob was still a bit turned on from the sight of Gavin’s bare chest, but his annoyance was enough to make him wrinkle his nose. Gavin was so dumb and so easily distracted, it was a wonder he ever even functioned as a lifeguard.
“I don’t know, man, she was like waving her hands and stuff.” He shrugged. “There’s not much to say. I swam out there, brought her back to the shore. She was fine. She told her daddy she almost drowned, and that was the same day I got in a fight with my boss about boobs and I got fired. So he gave me a job here.”
Rob rubbed his forehead. “You got in a fight about boobs?”
“Yeah. He said Lindsay Tanner had better boobs than Sally Anne Whitaker-“
“The actresses?”
“Yeah.”
“And he fired you because you disagreed?”
“It was total bullshit! Lindsay Tanner looks like she has manboobs-“
“Gavin… I’m going to leave that part out of the book,” Rob said. “I’m just gonna say you were late a lot, so you got fired, okay?”
“Cool. I was late a lot. He said that was a reason to fire me too. Did you see Sally Anne Whitaker in River of Screams? Man, in that white blouse when it got wet? You could see the full tit, man, totally. Nipple and everything. Don’t you think she’s hotter than Lindsay Tanner-?”
Rob smiled. “But yes, I agree with you, Sally Anne Whitaker has marvelous breasts. I’d love to lick them or whatever.”
“Yeah, licking’s cool.”
“Okay, well…” Rob sighed. “I’m going to have to add something to make this a more interesting story, okay? Something besides ‘she waved so I swam out there’. Was there a bad undertow in that area? Rumors of sharks? Electric eels? Stinging jellyfish? Drug cartels in motorboats? Industrial pollution? Was she injured? Was she mentally ill? Did the beach management play a negligent role?”
Gavin said no to all that, and when Rob ran out of ideas, Gavin cleared his throat. “Hey, man, so you’re like… totally into stuff, right?”
“Yes.” Rob didn’t know what Gavin was referring to, but he was a great admirer of the male physique, and Gavin’s was remarkable, so Rob intended to agree with him as much as possible. He liked agreeing with handsome men.
“So, like… I know this guy… He was like totally, like, he was really cool, but like… he knew this guy who was like older… older than you, but older than him too, and… totally… like, I, uh… he said that, like, this guy… like… sometimes did like… where he paid money… uh for things, like…” Gavin’s deep voice grew increasingly pinched as he rambled and blushed. “For… things… you could do. Like… for… in exchange for money… Do guys really do that?”
Rob scrunched his eyebrows. “Yes, that’s right. Guys sometimes exchange services for things.”
“Really?!” His big blue eyes lit up.
“Yes, Gavin.” Rob smiled and patted Gavin on the bicep. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
“Yeah! I live right over there,” he said. He got up and nearly left his shirt and tie on the chair. Rob got it for him and followed him out the door. The shirt smelled of him, of sunlight and seaspray and sand. Rob walked a little behind him so he could see his ass sway in his tight slacks, and his brown back glisten in the sunlight. He went across the street to a small apartment building.
When he had opened up the door to the lobby of his building, he looked back at Rob a little fearfully. “So, uh… what do you want to do? I mean… jacking off, right? You’ll swallow my cum, right? Girls never want to do that.”
Rob smiled. “I would be glad like to jack you off and swallow your cum, Gavin. I’ll give you-” Gavin blushed and pumped his biceps, cheering himself on. Rob waited for him to stop, by which point they were at his apartment door. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
“Oh.” Gavin looked crestfallen as he opened the door. “Ryan Delgado said he got two-fifty, y’know… to cornhole a man.”
“Oh? You’d be willing to do that — fine, that’s a lot of money, but I’ll do it,” Rob said. “I didn’t think you’d do me up the ass.” Once the door to Gavin’s apartment swung shut, Rob came up behind him and kissed the broad, smooth flesh of his back.
Gavin laughed a little nervously, which made his back muscles flex beneath Rob’s kisses. “Sweet, sweet. You’re not gonna tell the guys at work about this, will you? They’ll make fun of me.”
“It’s our little secret,” Rob said. “Why don’t you sit down, sweetie?”
Gavin obediently sat. He blushed until his tanned cheeks were almost burgundy, and he unzipped his slacks. He kicked his shoes off, and in seconds, he was down to his boxers. He sighed like he had been waiting do that for a long time. “Shit, I love a mouth. I don’t care who jacks me off. There used to be this chick who’d get me drunk and suck me off. She was like… super-nerdy. Like you don’t even know, like… she was weird. She did math. For fun! Like homework, but like… no school! It was insane! And, uh, like… she looked like a total nerd. She wore glasses. But she loved my cock-“
“Uh-huh. Don’t talk about ugly girls when I am on your dick,” Rob said. He got down on his knees in front of Gavin on the couch. His hands reached up to tweak Gavin’s nipples, making his pecs ripple and bounce. A nervously aroused laugh came outta Gavin, whose cheeks turned red. Rob pulled his fat cock out of the fly of his boxers and put the tip in his mouth.
Gavin murmured, “okay, sorry,” and put his hands behind his head. He leaned back on his couch as his dick stiffened up in Rob’s mouth. “Sorry, sorry.”
What was he apologizing for? If Rob’s mouth wasn’t full, he would have asked. Rob slurped on the tip of his still only part hard cock, and Gavin again laughed like a teenage girl with a baritone voice. His movement made his dick jab around in Rob’s mouth, which also made it hump the surface of Rob’s tongue.
That sent a wave of pleasure into Gavin’s body and a wave of arousal into Rob’s. Both men’s dicks raced to full erection, and Rob energetically slathered spit up and down the shaft. Gavin su ked in his breath.
Soon his was rock-hard, throbbing, leaking a few drops of precum down his throat. It was salty like the sea, warm and smooth. Gavin kept laughing every few seconds, sounding almost like he was ticklish though Rob could tell that wasn’t it — he was nervous.
“Shit, man, you feel just like a girl, that’s awesome. Ryan Delgado said his dude had a mustache and it scratched at his dick-” Gavin made a face like that was the grossest thing he had ever heard. “-but you have a smooth face, that’s nice…” And his voice broke, making him groan and grip Rob’s face. He plowed into and out of his mouth all without missing a beat as he talked. “And you’re not as old as he is. That’s cool, I dunno if I could get jacked off by a really old dude. Like really old. That’s so weird. Like… maybe if he paid a lot of money, y’know.”
Rob pulled off his cock and smacked his lips. He nodded, but he mostly ignored him as Gavin kept talking about how weird it’d be to be jacked off by an old dude. Rob was mollified that he apparently did not count as an “old dude”, though Gavin did call him “too old for college girls”, and Rob explained that there was no such thing. Rob may have appreciated the male physique, but he enjoyed the feminine one as well.
But with Gavin’s cock now fully erect and throbbing in Rob’s grip, both men were ready to move on. When Rob touched Gavin’s cock just a bit, the result was a painful-looking spasm of sensations erupting within Gavin’s body. The sound he made may have been a moan originally, but it turned into ironically moaning laugh partway through.
Once Rob had lubed up his ass carefully, backed himself up and lowered his ass onto Gavin’s dick. Gavin remained seated on the couch, head leaning back, like he didn’t want to touch Rob any more than necessary. His eyes opened wide as his knob teased the rim of Avery’s asshole.
But he kept talking, even as his dick throbbed and spewed precum. “Old people are crazy, like my grandmom goes to the cable company to pay her bill. Like she actually goes to the cable place. Like in a car. Like… in person. They have, like, a window.” His broad chest muscles rippled as he suppressed another nervous laugh. “Ah, shit, I love anal, girls never wanna do it, damn…”
“Uh-huh.” Rob had to lean with one hand on Gavin’s firm chest, holding onto him for support. An intense pressure shot through his body, and Rob let out a little, desperate grunt. Gavin’s muscles rippled, and Avery gripped the flesh of his bicep. He had rarely felt skin that musucular.
That touch finally made Gavin shut up for a couple minutes. He even lifted his head to watch, eyes slowly widening, as his dick squeezed into Rob’s tight ass. He watched as though flummoxed, like he couldn’t understand why his dick was doing that.
“Oh that’s so weird — it’s like… just like a girl, totally,” Gavin said. He scrunched his eyes shut tightly. He now faced Rob’s back as it slid up and down, but his eyes remained shut like there was a horror film on he didn’t want to see. His hands roamed in the air above Rob’s back. “Oh god — shit.” Gavin’s voice broke again, and turned serious. “Goddamn, man.”
Rob had to laugh, now that Gavin had stopped, as though Gavin had thought this was all a joke right up until this moment, when he felt an intense pleasure gathering deep in his loins. Rob stroked himself off with one hand, while the other leaned back and kneaded Gavin’s chest.
An explosion of pleasure in Rob’s body made him throw his head back and moan. Obviously, Gavin’s dick was knocking on Rob’s prostate, which always felt even more amazing when the top didn’t understant what he was doing.
His ass rose up and down, Gavin’s cock stroking his insides and sending shiver after shiver of pleasure up Rob’s spine. His whole world exploded in sparks of desire, and Rob writhed like he was in pain impaled on that spider’s spiked body, Rob cried out, muffling the sound at first before remembering he didn’t need to. He let out a howl as he reached his own orgasm just seconds before Gavin did the same.
Cum flew out of Rob’s cock and into his free hand, while Gavin’s load filled him up. It sprayed through every corner of his insides, sending a wave of mind-numbing pleasure through Rob’s body. It kept coming too, over and over, as Gavin’s dick moistly explored his ass. Rob had never felt anything quite like this.
His orgasm seemed to last an hour, and there was fluid everywhere. But somehow, intolerably long after it began, it was over, and Rob fell limp. There was so much cum inside him Rob could smell it, even though none had spilled and in fact Gavin’s cock remained in his ass, limp and spent. So why could Rob smell it? It wasn’t his own cum. Whatever it was, it was strong, and it made Rob want to fuck some broad.
Gavin’s ass wetly slid out of him and flopped onto his thigh. Gavin let out a sweat-soothing groan, while Rob squeezed next to him on the couch. Gavin’s body heat enveloped him.
“Shit, man,” Gavin finally said. “It’s so cool, that, like… I can do that and it isn’t even gross, y’know, I can just picture a girl. Totally.”
Rob leaned in to kiss Gavin on the neck. “Yeah. I did it better than any girl though, didn’t I?”
Gavin blushed. “Yeah.” He looked down. “I still like girls though, totally. With boobs — hell, yeah-“
Rob shrugged. “I just wanted to point out that I’m better.” He wiped his dick clean, as Gavin did the same thing with a paper towel. Rob went to his wallet, stretching his sore legs. “Let me give you the money.”
“Cool. Awesome,” Gavin said. “Are you gonna… wanna do this again?”

The Cuckolder

Avery runs across a handsome young black man fleeing the husband of his latest conquest, and since Tyrell seems to be in desperate need of a ride, Avery makes him an offer…

Then before he knows it, Avery is in for an incredible new adventure in man-on-man rough trade!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers sat in his car, waiting for his stupid brother-in-law to send him a stupid text message. His sister had asked him to help out with something: giving her no-good husband a ride to his boss’s house to beg for his job back. Avery didn’t like his brother-in-law Dayton, but he did love his sister. So he agreed, and now he had to sit out here in his car and wait for the all-clear to leave.
He was about to drive off regardless. If his stupid brother-in-law wanted to get picked up again, he could damn well call and ask for another favor.
Finally a text message appeared on his phone: nvrmind, thx Avary, all good. That meant Avery’s brother-in-law presumably had his job back again. Avery was glad for him, even if he did strongly dislike the man. He didn’t get why anyone would give him a second chance. He was especially annoyed that, after years in the family, his brother-in-law still didn’t know how to spell Avery’s name. What a dick.
That was when Avery saw a naked man, climbing out of the top floor of a three-story building. The man was tall and muscular, tattooed, dark-skinned, with short hair and an intensely masculine face. A very handsome face, like a movie star or a well-bred stallion. He was broad as an ox and powerfully built, stacked with muscles that he used to climb down the fire escape in the alley across the street from where Avery was parked.
He also had a huge cock. Avery could tell from here. Looked like a cricket bat dangling between his legs.
“You fuckin’ piece of shit! I’ll kill you!” A lanky middle-aged white man stuck his head out a window on the top floor and screamed down to the alley. Then he disappeared back into the apartment.
The black man was Tyrell Brickley, and he had one hand over his flopping cock and low-hanging balls as he descended the fire escape into the alley below. He assumed that would be enough to get away from the white man — husband to Tyrell’s latest conquest, whose name was Karen or Carol or something like that, some white-lady name. Not that Tyrell got anything against white ladies. He do savor them indeed.
The husband, Mr. Karen or whatever, must have come out the front door of the building, and he caught up with Tyrell around the block.
“Shit!” Tyrell turned to flee the other way. “This honky fast!”
This husband was more limber than he seemed. He had long legs and wasn’t fat like most of the husbands whose wives Tyrell seduced. Tyrell had strong legs, but he was heavy, and he was hampered by his bare feet. He wished he had managed to at least grab his shoes. The pavement here was covered in sharp stones and bits of garbage.
Reaching the next cross-street, Tyrell looked left and right, not sure where to go. Where to get clothes? Tyrell had no solution to his current predicament. His phone, his wallet, everything was back in that lady’s apartment.
Which was also the apartment of the man chasing him, which meant the husband had or would soon have Tyrell’s wallet and phone. “Shit!” Tyrell said with every step.
The sunny part of the asphalt was scorching hot on his feet, and Tyrell ran to a cooler, shaded spot. A squad car drove past, but luckily the cop behind the wheel didn’t notice Tyrell standing there in an alley. Tyrell frowned.
No cell phone, no cash, no car, no plan.
“Shit!” Tyrell snapped. “Shiiiiit!”
“Hey, man, need a ride?” Avery’s voice called out from his car, which pulled to a stop near Tyrell. He waved to get Tyrell’s attention. “Hey, man, need a ride?”
“Ah, shit, thanks, I on the wing, yoh,” Tyrell said. He darted into Avery’s car just as the husband came around the corner, peeping his head left and right like an angry meerkat. His face was red and squinty-eyed. Tyrell slammed his door shut. “Go!” Avery peeled away in a hurry, and Tyrell breathed a sigh of relief.
That sense of relief didn’t last long, however, before Tyrell realized he had gotten into a complete stranger’s car. He was naked, so he wouldn’t be robbed — he had nothing to steal. But that hardly made this safe. He had been so worried about getting away from that husband that he hadn’t made sure his sudden escape route was safe.
He looked out the car window in time to see the husband shake his fist at the car driving away. Tyrell smirked. He glanced over at the slim man behind the wheel.
“My name is Avery,” the driver said, with a feminine lilt to his voice.
“Tyrell.” Tyrell sighed and rolled his eyes. “Thanks foh the ride, Avery.” He flashed a handsome grin in Avery’s direction. Tyrell carried himself like he knew he was handsome, which made him less handsome. A lot of people would think of him as arrogant, or seemingly arrogant at least. Avery wouldn’t dispute that. But he had a fantastic body. Plenty of reason to be arrogant. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male form.
Avery’s hand clasped Tyrell’s leg, giving it a squeeze. Tyrell rolled his eyes and grunted in a disagreeable way. His upper lip quivered. He acquiesced as Avery’s hand roamed up his well-muscled thigh, then ascended his chest. His muscles were firm like rocks, and his pecs flexed when Avery touched them. But he said, “Nah, man…”
“Hmm-hmm.” Avery dropped his hand back to grope Tyrell’s thigh, which he squeezed hard. “Where do you want to go?”
“Ummm… the’uh’s this place out in Crandwell,” Tyrell said, his voice lightly stawky with a trace of a drawl. It was the only place he could think of to go. His muscles flexed wherever Avery touched him. He cleared his throat. “I between places right now. I ain’t homeless or nothin’. The’uh’s this chick out in Crandwell who let me keep sum shit the’uh. I got clothes I can wear — get ya hand offa muh dick, man.”
Avery frowned. Tyrell’s cock was moist and thick, sticking to his leg. Avery had just barely brushed one hand over it to gauge Tyrell’s reaction. “Sorry. Can I touch your dick?”
“No.”
“Can you flex a bicep? You have great arms.” Avery let go of his dick.
“No.”
Avery clucked his tongue and stroked Tyrell’s bicep, which was rock-hard and bulging even though he didn’t flex it. Avery’s hand moved lower and tweaked Tyrell’s nipple. “I helped you back there, I didn’t have to. You should let me touch you…” Avery whispered. “I love your physique. You must work out a lot.”
Touching his nipple made Tyrell’s dick twitch. Tyrell assumed that Avery saw it, though Avery was actually watching the road as he got on the highway. Tyrell sighed. “Don’t read nothin’ into that, muh dick ain’t gettin’ hard, I ain’t geekin’. I just like it when girls touch muh nipples, y’know.” He chuckled throatily.
“Hmm-hmm. You’re really handsome.” Avery was annoyed that he didn’t get to grope Tyrell’s dick. He had a nice body though, and that felt great beneath Avery’s hand — even that was disappointing because Avery had to watch the road and couldn’t really see Tyrell’s frame or his flexing muscles. He could feel their firmness though, and he could sense the simmering body heat, the furnace powering his broad body.
“Yeah, whatevuh, man.” Tyrell looked out the window, ignoring Avery’s hand over his chest. “Can I use yo’ phone? Shit, nah… I donno nobody’s numbers.”
“How about… if you let me jack you off right now, I’ll let you use my phone, you can message your friends if you want, and I’ll even buy you a new phone if you can’t get your old one back,” Avery said.
“What, no shit?” Tyrell scoffed and nodded. “Hell yeah, man!”
It was only a handjob, after all, Tyrell thought. He pretended it was fine. It was fine, he assured himself over and over. There was a dude in the barbershop near where he grew up in Baltimore who used to jerk off any eighteen-year-old who wanted to bust a nut. He had been legendary, and he throated Tyrell so good Tyrell thought he broke his cock. He went all the way down! All the way!
But Tyrell was young and horny then, plus drunk. He’d only ever been with two women at that point. He had been desperately horny, and all his friends did it too. They lined up outside the man’s door one night, coming in one by one until the neighbors complained. It would have been weird to not do it at the time. He was drunk enough that it barely mattered, he didn’t even think about it at that moment, and it had only taken about two minutes (to cum, plus like twenty minutes in line).
But he had plenty of sex these days. Literally like ten minutes ago. He don’t need none that DL shit. With some freaky-ass white man who got a girl’s name.
But Tyrell did need a phone and he don’t want Avery to kick him outta the car, so he just closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His dick was soft and spongy because he had fucked that woman a couple times last night and again this morning, and his manhood was still recovering. He grinned at the thought of that tight middle-aged pussy. He loved fucking a pussy some other man thought was his.
“You fuck with a lot of married women?” Avery asked.
Tyrell scoffed. “Yo don’t even know, you don’t own a pussy, y’know, ya gotta earn it, you gotta keep earnin’ it e’ry day. Man, white men gotta have money, ya know, but they don’t realize they females is still out fuckin’ wit’ nigga dick, ya feel me?”
“Hmm-hmm…” Avery murmured. Tyrell’s dick was slow to firm up in his hand, especially since it was awkward to jack him off in a moving car while Avery drove. He put it on cruise control though, now that they were on the highway.
“You ever let a guy jack you off before?”
Tyrell nodded. “Once. I was younguh then, don’t even try nuhhin’ now,” he said. “I don’t like messin’ wiff white dudes. That other nigga got me off real gud. But the’uh was this white dude who usedta look at me all the time, man. Yo be hangin’ out in the shower ‘nd’shit, rubbin’ muh back. I know he wanted muh dick. I don’t let some white man have that over me, y’know, runnin’ around tellin’ all his little white buddies ‘bout the time he got sum nigga-dick in his mouth. Nah. No way, nigga, that ain’t how I play.”
“It sounds like you have a problem with white men,” Avery said. Tyrell’s dick was rock-hard now, veinily throbbing in Avery’s hand. A few drops of precum slipped out, lubricating him, and Tyrell sighed. His dick was exquisitely sensitive.
“I ain’t lettin’ you mouf me off neithuh,” Tyrell said because he could see Avery’s eyes flittering back again and again to stare at his dick — he knew Avery was going to try to throat it sooner or later. “Nah, I ain’t into that. Nuhhin’ personal.”
“No offense taken.”
Tyrell grabbed Avery’s hand as it stroked his dick, and he guided it up and down more quickly. “Like that, good, like that, stroke that jawn fast, dawg.” He sighed. Tyrell’s hips pumped, so he humped Avery’s hand just as much as Avery’s hand stroked him.
He was surprised at how good the handjob really was. He’d never enjoyed a handjob this much. He grunted and bit his lip. His breathing sped up as he tried to hump Avery’s hand harder, lifting his hips off the seat.
“Damn, nigga-” He choked off his own words as pre-orgasmic pleasure surged through him. He gasped.
Avery teased him by stopping, squeezing his dick but not moving his hand again — Tyrell was on the edge of his orgasm, so that made him writhe in frustration and use both of his hands to again force Avery’s hand to move once more. Avery smiled and did so, as Tyrell’s dick erupted in a torrent of cum.
“Oh fuck-!”
It sprayed all over his bare chest, coating his smooth brown skin in creamy goodness. It just kept on coming, even though he’d fucked not too long ago, he just had big dangling balls that were chock-full of creamy cum.
His wad clung to his muscles and dripped from his pecs. “Ah, shit!” Tyrell said through gritted teeth. A few beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He couldn’t believe a simple handjob felt this good, and he hoped Avery didn’t get the wrong idea about him because of it. “Ah, nice, nigga, keep strokin’… Hmmm…” He licked his lips. “Don’t leggo-” He grunted. “Stroke it real slow now, real slow…” Tyrell’s whole body undulated and he moaned, jetting out one final flow of jizz.
Avery’s hand got coated in cum, and Tyrell’s dick soon was soft again. Tyrell’s whole body trembled as Avery kept on stroking until Tyrell couldn’t take it any more and pushed his hand away.
“Good timing,” Avery said. He sucked the cum off his finger, the sound of which made Tyrell gag — girls were never that enthusiastic about cum. He pulled off the highway into Crandwell. “We’re almost there.”
“Yeah, cool,” Tyrell said. He chuckled, trying to recover his breath without looking impressed. It was just a handjob, a mandingo-nigga like himself couldn’t get excited over a handjob without blowing his rep. He heaved for breath as casually as he could manage. “Cool. You bettuh buy me that phone, yoh.”
“I will. Where’s this house you can get clothes at?”
Tyrell gave him directions to a tony neighborhood a ways off the highway. There he pulled up to a house with a pool out back. “Don’t worry, I fuck wit’ this divorced lady, she don’t needta hide nuhhin’.” He got out, wrapping a jacket around his waist so he could walk to the front door without flashing the neighborhood.
He had no sooner stepped out, however, when a slightly haggard woman came out of the front door. “No way, Tyrell! Get outta here! My husband’s back!”
“Wudd?”
“My husband’s back! You gotta go-“
A burly middle-aged white man came out from behind the house. He saw Tyrell’s mostly naked body. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
Tyrell was crestfallen for a couple reasons. Most importantly, he was shocked that she had chosen her husband over him. She’d been bad-mouthing her husband for more than a year. She said over and over that Tyrell was younger, sexier, bigger-cocked, better-in-bed and just plain more charming. He was better in every way than her ex-husband.
So what, Tyrell thought, was wrong with him? Why had she chosen the husband over him?
“Huh? Whatchoo doin’, man? You best get outta here!” The man’s face turned ruddy, and he came closer. “You tryin’-a mess wit’ my wife?”
Tyrell was used to messing around with nerdy white guys’s wives, not big men like him. He didn’t like retreating, but he had few options. He took a step back then darted into Avery’s car. Avery saw all that occur, but he was unsure what it meant.
“Drive.”
“What’s happening?” Avery was confused by the large white man approaching the open driver’s side window of Avery’s car.
“What the fuck is going on?” said the white man, lowering his head to bark at Tyrell in the passenger seat. “You coming at my wife, boy?”
“Nah.”
“Who are you?”
“Just drive!”
Avery ripped the car into reverse and floored it out of the driveway. Luckily no one was coming on the street or Avery might have backed right into them. He peeled away back to the highway.
“Shit,” Tyrell said. He sighed. “Well, fuck.”
“You wanna go get that phone now then?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tyrell said. He looked out the window.
“Do you… want to stay with me?” Avery asked. He got the feeling from Tyrell’s silence that he now needed a place to stay.
Tyrell shrugged. “Do, I, uh… gotta… pay rent?”
“Sort of,” Avery said with a chuckle. “I only have one bed.”
There was a long awkward silence in the car. Tyrell wrinkled his nose. “Fine. But you gotta buy me stuff. Not just the phone. Like I need sum clothes ‘nd’shit, and, uh… a toothbrush.”
“Sure.”
“And…” There was so much going on that Tyrell struggled to think of something nice he could demand. “Uh… nice clothes. Like real nice clothes.”
“Yeah, cool.”
Avery drove to the All-Mart. Since Tyrell couldn’t go in without any clothes, he stayed out in the car, while Avery went in to buy a cheap phone, some clothes, shoes and a few odds and ends. He was relieved to come out and find Tyrell hadn’t hotwired his car.
“These clothes’ll have to do for now,” Avery said. “I’ll buy you some nicer stuff online, okay?”
“Fine.”
Tyrell felt better when he had some clothes on, and he quickly got to work on his phone. So he was involved in that and didn’t talk much or even pay any attention to Avery’s groping of his biceps and limp cock, until they pulled into the driveway of Avery’s house. Avery led him inside.
In the house, Avery was disappointed to see Tyrell in clothes. They both kept to themselves for awhile. Tyrell needed to get his life back in order — canceling his old phone, getting in touch with one nigga who was at work at the Burger Barn and could give him numbers of some other niggas, sending desperate messages to that married woman (until she blocked him), bragging to his niggas about the white chick he had boned (which made him feel better).
Avery made spaghetti — he had plenty of pasta and jarred sauce, and he figured Tyrell would like to have a big meal that was not quite home-cooked, but still plenty damn good. It was the good jarred sauce anyway.
“So do I gotta… you know, perform foh muh dinner?” Tyrell asked.
Avery clucked his tongue. “No. I’m not gonna starve you, Tyrell. You can ram me later tonight, once you’ve eaten.”
Tyrell was relieved but also wrinkled his nose. He didn’t realize Avery wanted ass. Tyrell wasn’t a booty bandit.
He could do it, of course. This nigga got meat. This nigga pounds.
But it wasn’t something he looked forward to. Tyrell hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he saw the food. He slurped down the noodles and the leftover Italian sausage Avery had added. Tyrell felt much better once he had eaten. He went in and took a long hot shower, which felt good too.
Then he came out before bed, in time to see Avery putting on a silky bathrobe. Tyrell followed him into his bedroom, his heart pounding.
He’d never plowed a man in the ass before. Tyrell fucked mainly with middle-aged white women, and while he liked to brag that he got them to give up the booty, that wasn’t really true. He’d only ever had anal sex with four women, and three of them made him quit before he even got his whole dick in there.
Tyrell closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He could do this. It would be easier, he thought, if he just pretended he was with a woman. He leaned in slowly, like women liked, and wrapped his muscles around Avery. He wrinkled his nose when Avery planted his lips on Tyrell’s, but Tyrell submitted as Avery’s tongue invaded his mouth.
Avery erupted in moans, stroking Tyrell’s powerful chest, which was moist with shower water. Avery figured Tyrell would feel most comfortable if Avery acted like a woman in love with him, being seduced. Avery giggled girlishly as Tyrell kissed him on the lips and the neck, then Avery slowly lowered himself to his knees.
“Alright, then, man, go ahead and put yuh mouf ouwn it,” Tyrell said with a grunt.
Avery pulled off Tyrell’s towel, revealing that big floppy cock. If he was with a woman, he’d be hard already. Tyrell tried not to show his feelings about this on his face. He took a deep breath, and his cock popped into Avery’s mouth. Avery smiled around it — it was clean and meaty and he could tell it was well-used too, like a muscle exhausted after a long day of work.
Tyrell fucked so many women that he got hard quickly, once he got into it, even though he’d cum a couple times today already. It had been hours, after all, which was plenty of time for him. He put his hands on his hips, watching his dick slide down Avery’s throat. At first it was just awkward and moist but cold and unappealing, like thwacking his limp dick on a plate of raw fish.
But then all at once, a jolt of pleasure made it twitch, and Tyrell narrowed his eyes to slits. His pecs rippled. His cock throbbed, and again, Tyrell felt the warm moisture of Avery’s tongue battering his sensitive cockshaft. He murmured soft nothings, and he submitted to Avery’s hands reaching up to play with his rippling chest muscles.
Not enough women were impressed by muscles, Tyrell thought, not really. Not like Avery obviously was.
“Yeah, swallow it, boi, swallow it deep…” Tyrell could get into this, he thought. He wondered if Avery would keep him paying him for his dick. That could be a regular arrangement.
It was rock-hard and throbbing soon enough, and the salty taste of precum hit Avery’s lips. Avery smiled up at him, his hands roaming over Tyrell’s muscular chest.
When he was ready, Avery turned around, leaned over the bed and jutted his ass up. Tyrell tried to cover up his lack of confidence, but Avery could tell how nervous he was. Tyrell wondered how much like a woman’s ass this would feel.
It’s good to do this once, Tyrell tried to tell himself. Lotta niggas ram once or twice. It’s better to do it wit’ a clean guy outside of prison. Then if I ever go to prison, it won’t be my first time.
One of Tyrell’s big hands spread Avery’s asscheeks, and he teased his knob at Avery’s hole. Then he closed his eyes and gyrated his hips, forcing it in as deep as it could go with one thrust. Avery gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain hit him. Tyrell had a big dick, so even with lube, there was agony as that first inch or two of cockmeat pushed into him. Avery struggled, and Tyrell grunted.
“Damn, boi,” Tyrell said. He’d never really worked through this kind of anal resistance. He was ginger, reluctant at first. Tyrell slowly worked his cock in, centimeter by centimeter. His hands instinctively touched Avery’s ass, then he pulled away because he didn’t want to touch a man.
Then a surge of pleasure hit him, and Tyrell moaned despite his anxiety. His eyes fluttered, and he gripped Avery’s flesh tight. He found his fingers on Avery’s pert ass — which, he thought, looked and felt very much like a girl’s — spreading the cheeks. When Tyrell kinda sculpted Avery’s assflesh with his hands, he could give it a vaguely feminine outline.
“Damn, man…” Tyrell grunted. His cock slid the rest of the way in, and they both moaned in sync. “Oh god… Damn, nigga!”
Tyrell didn’t know a man’s booty could be like this. Avery was tight and strong and experienced, and he could take every inch of dickmeat like few women could. He wasn’t loose either, he didn’t feel like a slut. He felt amazing, and Tyrell couldn’t believe it.
This, he thought, was better than any of the female asses he’d ever been in, not that Tyrell was going to admit that.
He pounded away, soon losing all of his inhibitions. He didn’t even mind his chest touching Avery’s back as he rammed his dick in harder and harder.
“Take it, nigga, damn!”
Soon he had Avery pinned on the bed, squirming beneath Tyrell’s massive body. Tyrell slammed his dick in and out, having lost his gingerness as he now realized Avery could take any amount of ramming. He forced his dick all the way in and out, and it was so thick every thrust of his hips brought Avery to new heights of orgasmic climax.
“Shit yeah!” Tyrell gripped his cheeks and moaned out his orgasm, surprised to see that Avery shot his own load at the same time. His body was wracked with bliss so intense it nearly hurt. He cried out loud, and his hands clawed for something to grip onto.
The smell of cum filled the air, and Tyrell sprayed his giant wad within Avery’s ass. It just kept on flowing, overflowing, dripping down and coating Avery’s thighs with creamy goodness.
More and more kept flowing, each one accompanying a long-dicking thrust into Avery’s ass The pleasure continued that whole time, Avery’s orgasm never quite ending. Tyrell’s cock had found a magic button to prolong it, it seemed.
At last, it was over, and Tyrell pulled out amid a storm of shudders through both men’s bodies. He grinned, wiping sweat off his chest. “Damn, boi… Hmm, you got ass fo’ real…”
“Hmmm…” Avery wanted to say something flirtatious, but he was too overwhelmed by the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm he had felt in a long time. He curled up on the bed and motioned for Tyrell to lay next to him.
Tyrell did so. He was tired now, having barely slept the night before. He didn’t even mind letting Avery paw all over him as they settled into bed together.
When I tell people about this — if I ever do — I’ll definitely tell them I made Avery sleep on the couch.

The Dumbass

Avery runs into a handsome dumbass at a store, only to realize he’s got an opportunity for rough trade. This lovable idiot just wants some dough, and he’s willing to give Avery a taste of his slacker-jock meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was at Randall’s Candles. He was in Martinsburg for a wedding, and he needed a nice present. The woman getting married loved candles. Avery thought he might find some sort of ultra-luxury candle, or maybe a candle-making kit, but he found nothing of the sort.
What he did see was a tall, broad-shouldered man walk in. He was scruffy, thick-bodied, strong without quite being muscular. He looked rather like a frat boy, but Avery got a strong whiff of dumbness in him and suspected that he did not go to college (or if he did, it was on an athletic scholarship). His face was round and cute enough, not a babyface, just round like the sun, like a sexy Winnie the Pooh. His smile was crooked and everpresent and reeked of idiocy.
Sexy but not handsome, not by a long shot. If he cleaned up, he might be handsome. He had a good body though. Definitely not a six-pack, which was not a problem for Avery. He appreciates a man with a meaty physique. This dark blond man was more of an eat-cereal-for-dinner guy, quite possibly an eats-cereal-with-beer-instead-of-milk kind of guy.
The man’s loudly sniffed one of the candles. He put it in his arms, then grabbed another. His deep bass voice rang out. “This one smells like mango… What’s chut-ney?! Oh, I like this one!”
“Hey, Jimmy,” said the employee, a portly Goth-adjacent woman with dyed black hair, a dour face and a ‘Gina’ nametag. She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Hi Gina, did you get any new ones in? I need my usual shipment,” he said. Jimmy looked at Avery and nodded. “‘Sup, hey.”
“Hi,” Avery said. He blushed. He wasn’t expecting to see such a handsome young man in here. The scented-candle shop usually had an exclusively female clientele, despite the name suggesting a man owned it. (There was no “Randall” behind Randall’s Candles though.) “Lemme guess, you’re buying something for your girlfriend? Who’s… an English major?”
“Ha, no, good guess though, my last girlfriend was an English major. She was into poetry and like books and stuff.” He frowned and made a thumbs-down gesture. “She dumped me though.”
“Sorry, man,” Avery said as sympathetically as he could manage.
He shrugged and said, “She dumped me because of inconsiderateness and not being… not saying things when she was… like, upset. Or whatever. Or not, like… sometimes, saying too much. Like, she said I didn’t get it or even, uh… it was about listening too much. Or not enough.” As he talked he tapped on the counter, waiting for Gina to return.
“So, do you really have a ‘usual shipment’?” Avery asked. “You must buy a lot of candles.”
Jimmy blushed and bit his lip. His tapping on the counter gradually turned into full-scale drumming, but it stopped as he turned red. “I just like candles. I like… I read this book — or, my other ex-girlfriend did, really. But she showed me all the good parts, I read them, the parts that she showed me, I did, I read it all,” he explained this in a rush like Avery was going to scold him for not doing his own work. “It was about smelling, and how it has an effect on stuff. Like if you smell something, something happens. You know? Like, in you. It happens in you. It’s like, good for… you. So, she made me put on a pine-forest candle when I worked out. She said it was good for physical… for getting your pump on. Like exercise. Or whatever. So I did it and then she dumped me because I wanted anal too much and my dick was too big. And I liked the forest thing when I work out, it does help me lift more, you know. Or whatever. My coach kept track of my workouts back when I was in college, and he said it was better, cuz I was doing the lifting and all. Aerobic exercise too.” He blinked. “Hey, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that part about fucking her in the ass.” He smiled. “I mean… having sex with her in her ass.” He cocked his head to the side. “I mean, having sex with her in her butt.” He smiled broadly as if expecting a medal for that.
“That’s okay,” Avery said. He was still dumbstruck by how cute Jimmy was, and Jimmy talked so fast it was hard to get a word in.
“Man, I like girls, and, um… boobs. You know about boobs? Boobs are awesome.” He looked into the back and saw Gina coming back to the front. She had a box of forest-scented candles.
“Sorry, Jimmy, the price on these went up,” Gina said. “Just a dollar though. The Homelife Essence series, they raised the price on all of them.”
“Again? The price keeps going up,” Jimmy said with a frown. He sighed and counted out his cash.
“Wait, Jimmy, let me,” Avery said. He handed over his credit card.
“Really? Awesome! Can I get one of those mango chutney ones?!” He was already running back to the shelf to get it. “Do you know what chutney is? Is it food?”
“Yes, it’s like… it’s just chopped up fruit, in a sauce.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“Usually just a bunch of spices and stuff.”
“So you can eat it?” Jimmy said as Gina rang up the candles.
Avery paused, unsure how stupid Jimmy actually was. “… Not the candle,” Avery said. “Actual chutney, yeah. It’s food. Don’t eat the candle.”
“Wow, I wonder what chutney smell is good for? Aroamingtherapy, that’s what you call it. Do you know? Do you think it’ll make me better at X-Box?” Jimmy asked. He was again shifting his weight back and forth like a hyperactive teenager (though he was clearly well into his twenties).
“Maybe,” Avery said. He caught a glimpse of Gina, who was politely bagging up Jimmy’s candles with a morose grimness to her face.
“So, why are you buying candles for me, man? Thanks a lot, by the way. Thanks. Thanks… Thank you. Thank you, sir.” He spoke with increasing seriousness every time he repeated himself. “Thank you.” He gave a bow. “My good sir.”
“No problem, Jimmy, glad to help. I actually have something you could do to earn some money,” Avery said. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested.” He walked out of the shop with Jimmy, who carried his scented candles.
“Oh cool, I need a new job, I hate delivering pizzas. Lemme call my boss and tell him to fuck off. He’s a prickface-“
“No, no-“
“He called his wife a bitch, which I think is wrong. I mean… it’s right, she is a bitch. But you’re not supposed to say that if you’re married to her. And he called Frankie a retard, which is totally not okay because he is a… He has… He’s messed up. It’s okay to call people retards if they’re not.” He paused. “I mean, I think you’re not supposed to do that either. But you’re really really not supposed to call actual retards retards.” He pulled out his phone. “Frankie’s hilarious anyway, he-“
“Jimmy, wait, don’t quit-“
“Hang on, I’m calling my boss. What’s this job you’re hiring me for?” He put the phone to his ear.
Avery could hear it ringing. “Wait! Jimmy, stop!” He grabbed the phone from him and hung up. “Jimmy, shut up, Jesus, listen to me for a minute. I’m not offering you a job. I’m offering you a one-time thing. It’ll take a couple hours, and then I’m leaving. Don’t quit your job. Christ, were you really going to quit because a stranger offered you a job? I didn’t even tell you what the job was or how much it paid.”
He blushed and smiled. “Oh yeah. It’s not a video game developer? That’s what I want to do. That’s what I was hoping for.” He looked genuinely surprised. Jimmy grinned. “They said you have to know about computers though.”
“Yeah, you have to know about computers,” Avery said, rolling his eyes. They were out of the mall now, in the parking lot. Jimmy said he walked to the mall today, so they went to Avery’s car.
“Or a stuntman. I think I’d be a good stuntman. See?” Jimmy flopped onto the ground and rolled back and forth like he was on fire. He screamed so loud he attracted attention from everyone else in the parking lot. Then he jumped to his feet and brushed gravel off his chest. “See? That was me on fire.”
“Cool, Jimmy. That’s neat. No, I’m not offering you a job as a stuntman.”
“So what is it? What is the job?” Jimmy finally asked. Avery couldn’t believe it had taken this long for him to actually ask what the job was. Avery wasn’t trying to hide it, Jimmy just kept talking, and Avery didn’t interrupt him. Avery unlocked his car, and Jimmy sat in the passenger seat.
“Wait… Jimmy… Just for future reference, when someone offers you a job, you should ask what that job is before you get in that stranger’s car,” he said. “And you should consider not getting in the car.”
“How else would I get the job? Should I ride on the roof? My uncle let me do that once when I was a kid. It was awesome. A ladybug flew up my nose. I think it’s still in there.”
Avery sighed. Jimmy was lucky he was cute. Avery didn’t want to sound threatening, so he didn’t explain his concerns in any detail. It was clear Jimmy would remain a fool for the time being regardless. “No, Jimmy. You’re fine. Just be careful, okay? Not everyone is as nice as me. Where do you live?”
Jimmy gave him directions, and he talked the whole way there. It wasn’t far. Avery parked outside a dingy apartment complex near a Taco Bell but not a good Taco Bell. Inside was a typical bachelor pad. It smelled like dirty clothes. There was a TV and a mattress, both on the floor. The trash can by the bed was filled mainly with used condoms and empty beer cans. A street sign reading Twitman Avenue was mounted on the wall — Jimmy later explained that he thought it said Twatman when he was drunk and didn’t realize until the morning that there was no joke there. Most of the living room was taken up by a bench press and free weights scattered around the floor.
“Do you wanna play X-Box?” he asked, running to the console like a kid on Christmas Day. He stopped himself. “Oh, wait, what’s this job? Do I need to wear nice clothes? I have a button-down shirt but there’s a stain on it that looks like pee. It’s not pee, it’s… well, I don’t know the polite word for it. Vaginajuice, I guess? Is that a word? Vagina pee?”
“Vagina pee is just pee, Jimmy.”
“Oh, yeah, I always forget women pee out of there.” He giggled like a schoolboy. “The thing about vaginas-“
“Stop talking about vaginas, Jimmy,” Avery said with a sigh. He watched as Jimmy lit a candle. The room filled with the scent of nuts and milk. Avery smiled. “I-“
“These are chestnuts. It’s a chestnut-eggnog candle. I think chestnut is a funny word, it makes me laugh every time I say it. I think its roaming therapy effect is… it makes me horny, but that’s probably not right. Oh wait, sorry, I mean… is that offensive? It makes me want girls. I think its roaming therapy is that it makes you wanna do it with hot chicks.” Then he blurted out, “With tits!”
“Jimmy…” Avery said. “Have you ever jacked off with a man? Or, y’know… cum in a guy?”
He had to be blunt to sneak the question in before Jimmy went off on another tangent. Jimmy cocked his head to the side like he didn’t understand the question. “What? No… Just y’know, pussy. Vagina, I mean. Vaginas. You know about vaginas, right?”
Avery narrowed his eyes to slits. “I’ve heard of them.” He sighed. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to put it in my ass. You can do it real hard, as hard as you want. And I’ll swallow your dick deeper than any girl.”
Jimmy didn’t respond. For the first time — possibly ever in his life — he was speechless for a long time. He blushed a deep, dark red. “Are you serious? Five hundred dollars!” He jumped up and down. “Wait… Are you serious? You want…?” He was barely able to contain his glee. “But wait… is that allowed?”
“What?”
“Like… won’t I get in trouble?”
“For messing around with me? No. It’s just like jacking off.”
“But you’re not… Isn’t that like… I dunno, racist or something?”
“How would that be racist?”
“Not racist, but, I don’t know… intolerant, or something? Is it okay?” His eyes were bugged out. His face was as red as a cranberry.
“Yes, Jimmy. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell anyone at all,” he said.
Jimmy thought for a long time. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can-“
“You can look at pictures of hot chicks while you do it.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?! Oh, wow, okay then. Sure. I’ll do that. No problem. I mean… what if…? You know, I don’t know if… What if I don’t…? Or if I can’t…?”
“You’ll get hard, Jimmy, don’t worry,” Avery said.
He took a deep breath. He looked more and more nervous with every passing moment, like he had agreed just thinking about the money and now wasn’t sure if he could do it. “Can they be Asian chicks?”
“Yeah. Take off your shirt,” Avery said.
He did so. He laughed. His face was red, as was his chest. Avery didn’t mind — there was nothing more arousing than a nervous alpha. Jimmy had an amazing body. It wasn’t perfect by any means, he had a few pounds of padding on his belly (he was tall enough that he still had a flat stomach, just no six-pack) and a generally meaty build. But he clearly worked out a lot, and his body brimmed with powerful muscles.
He laughed more as Avery kissed his nipple. His pecs rippled beneath Avery’s tongue. His rolling laughter made it difficult for Avery to suck on his muscle, but Avery enjoyed chasing his body with his tongue. His thickness jiggled every time he moved.
“Hey, wait a sec, oh holy shit…” Jimmy mumbled to himself. He went into his bedroom and came back out with a handful of erotic magazines. He sat on the bench press and flipped through one until he found a picture of a sexy Asian woman spreading her legs. He sighed. “Ah, yeah, okay.” He showed Avery. “I like Asian chicks,” Jimmy said. “Is that okay? And I appreciate the culture. Like the tits. Diversity.”
“Fine with me,” Avery said and kneeled in front of him. He touched Jimmy’s dick, which twitched and which made Jimmy’s whole body spasm and shake. Jimmy gasped. He leaned back to give Avery better access to his crotch. His dick twitched in Avery’s grasp.
Then he leaned all the way back and laid onto the bench press, like he was going to work out. He had his magazine in hand, holding it above his head. He gripped it tightly and stared at it like it was a liferaft and he was drowning.
Avery pulled his jeans down and whistled at sight of Jimmy’s massive cock. He wasn’t kidding about it being too big for anal (for most girls, not for Avery, of course). He gave it a stroke and Jimmy laughed again. Jimmy watched his cock throb in Avery’s hand as though it was an action film and he was eager to see how it ended.
His cock perked up as Avery licked it and slathered spit overtop it, letting saliva run down the spongy shaft. It pulsated and firmed up in seconds when Avery really got to slurping on the knob, while his hands gently stroked the sensitive skin of his ballsac. Jimmy had huge hefty balls that felt perfect in Avery’s grip. Soon his shaft was as hard as Jimmy’s muscles, and it throbbed atop Avery’s tongue.
A cacophony of sounds escaped from Jimmy’s mouth. He kept his eyes tightly focused on the magazine, but he gurgled and grunted, moaned, sputtered, laughed and coughed all at once. He glanced down once his dick got hard, then muttered, “Oh god…” and held a tight focus on the magazine. His chest rippled. “Hmmm…”
Once he was good and hard, Avery pulled off his dick, smacking his lips as he savored the first few drops of precum. Jimmy sighed and laughed some more. One of his arms gripped the magazine, the other flailed uselessly over his body — it looked like he had an urge to touch Avery’s head, to guide him up and down, but he didn’t want to touch a man.
He mounted Jimmy, who grunted and lowered the magazine so that it literally covered his face. Then he gagged and dropped it. “Oh, man, I forgot I nutted all over that like a million times. Tastes like cum. Oh man, that smells so nasty.” He covered his face with one forearm, laughing so hard he turned red.
“So do all girls tell you your cock is too big for anal?” Avery asked as he lowered himself onto Jimmy’s dick.
Jimmy bit his lip and bucked. His hands fluttered above his chest, then grabbed the bench press beneath him — the bench was much narrower than his body, so it was awkward and it forced his muscular chest upwards, off the bench. Jimmy laughed and blushed. “Yeah. Yeah. Most girls won’t do it, at least not more than once.” He was about to add something else, but then moaned violently. His cock slid the rest of the way into Avery’s ass. “Oh god, that feels good… Just like a girl, kinda…” His eyes bugged out, and he kept his hands behind his head.
Avery grunted. He was momentarily overcome by pain and pressure in his ass. He struggled to accept it, and his ass gradually loosened. He swayed back and forth, making Jimmy gasp and sputter all over again.
Avery lifted himself up and slid back down Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy responded like he was tied up and had to struggle against the ropes. But of course he wasn’t tied up, the only reason he struggled was that Avery was atop him and Jimmy didn’t want to touch Avery, so there was nowhere to put his hands. Jimmy put his hands on the bench press beneath himself instead.
His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch. Jimmy responded like he was ticklish to Avery’s fingers rubbing his muscles — though it was hard to tell if Jimmy was laughing at that, or just generally laughing, since he hadn’t really stopped since his dick got hard, or since the candle shop, really. Laughter seemed to be his default state. He looked down at his body slick with Avery’s saliva and nervous sweat and watched his cock disappear into Avery’s asshole.
“Oh god, man, I can’t believe… Hey does this mean I’m a gigolo?” Jimmy asked. He covered his eyes again.
“Not technically,” Avery said, his voice tight and pinched as he accepted Jimmy’s massive manhood within him. “A gigolo gets paid by a woman for sex.”
“Do you know any women who…?”
“No. Sorry,” Avery said, orgasmic feelings welling up within him and making it hard to answer. “I think gigolos are fictional.”
“Can I tell people you were a woman?”
Avery smiled, closing his eyes briefly as wafts of pleasure spread up his body from his sensitive ass. Jimmy had no idea how much his cock was stimulating Avery’s prostate, making him writhe atop Jimmy’s rod. Avery’s hands explored the muscles of Jimmy’s chest. “I guess. But you could always do that, Jimmy.”
“What?”
“You could have made up a woman paying you for sex anytime. You could have made that up yesterday. You don’t need me to make that okay,” Avery said. His voice wavered and broke, as bliss flowed through his veins. His own cock throbbed in his hand.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so. But this way, maybe people will believe me,” Jimmy said.
Avery didn’t see the logic of that, but he didn’t want to argue about it. He just said okay and kept riding his dick. Jimmy was on the verge of orgasm too. His veiny cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s ass.
“Hey do you know Terry?”
“What?”
“He’s my neighbor. He’s weird,” Jimmy said. He blushed even deeper red — Avery got the feeling Jimmy responded to anxiety (and everything else) by talking, that was why he was rambling. Jimmy frowned. “He always looks at me… Do you think he’d pay me too? I could do this again. He’s kinda… old. He’s like forty.”
“I don’t know him, Jimmy. You could ask. He might do it,” Avery said. “Now be quiet so you can cum.”
After a pause, Jimmy said, “I can cum when I talk. I talk a lot during sex. My girlfriend said I talk too much-“
“You do. She was right. Hush,” Avery said, his eyes closed, both hands massaged Jimmy’s flexing pecs. “If you’re gonna talk, it’s gotta be dirty talk.” He wanted to explain further and get Jimmy to do some dirty talk — he got the feeling Jimmy would giggle through it, but it would be fun to try. But the pressure and incipient orgasm in his ass made it impossible to focus.
“Oh, right. Like this…” He cleared his throat. “Oh, god, baby, yeah…” He kept laughing through his “dirty-talk”, which ruined the dirtiness of it.
Then, as though he was utterly shocked by it, Jimmy orgasmed. His laugh cut off in the middle, and his muscles all tensed at once. His face was tight and pinched like he was in agonizing pain. He looked at Avery for the first time since this had begun.
Avery climaxed too, shooting his load into the palm of his hand, some of it spilling onto Jimmy’s chest. A giant wad of cum filled up his ass, spraying jet after jet of creamy hot cum into his insides. Avery squirmed and gasped, his hands caressing Jimmy’s taut muscles.
Their simultaneous orgasms lasted what felt like forever to Avery. He loved getting plowed by straight boys. There was nothing better, he thought as he exulted in the unkempt scent of Jimmy’s body and the feel of his sticky cum seeping into Avery’s flesh. Jimmy shot a huge load, his whole body shaking, hair flying back and forth like a shaggy dog drying itself.
“Hell yeah…” Jimmy said with a tight grunt. He screwed up his eyes when he saw Avery’s cupped hand, in which he caught his own jizz, overflowed, meaning Avery’s cum coated Jimmy’s belly and ribs. “Ewww…” Jimmy said, but he was still moaning from the sensations in his cock too, as he spewed his last few drops of jizz up Avery’s guts.
Finally it was done. To tease Jimmy, Avery remained on his cock, shifting his hips back and forth. Every motion sent a wave of staggering pleasure through Jimmy’s body, making his muscles ripple, his scruffy hair tremble, his upper lip shake. Jimmy groaned, his face remaining a bright red dappled with sweat.
Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a wordless moan. Avery giggled. He bent down and kissed each of Jimmy’s nipples, then pulled off his dick. Jimmy sighed grandly, his whole body spasming at Avery’s touch, and he limply flopped onto the bench press beneath him.
“Thanks, Jimmy. That was really hot…”
Avery looked for some tissues to clean himself and Jimmy with, but there were none in the living room. He found some paper towels in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but peer into the refrigerator too — it was a standard bachelor fridge, nothing but condiments, beer, hot dogs and leftover pizza. Avery slipped another fifty dollar bill in the fridge and added a note that read use this to buy real food, Jimmy. He left it unsigned, figuring Jimmy would probably think it a message from God.
He went back out to the living room. Jimmy’s body gleamed with sweat, but he had wiped the jizz off himself with his tee shirt, which now lay on the floor. He was limp all over, half-asleep. He grumbled when Avery wiped his dick off with a moistened paper towel. He lifted his head enough to watch Avery handle his meaty shaft, then laid back down.
He seemed to have totally forgotten about the money. Avery could have just walked right out. But he didn’t. He placed five hundred dollar bills on Jimmy’s pecs.
“Bye, Jimmy. Good luck.”
He lazily lifted one hand to wave goodbye. “Later, dude. Come by and see me again sometime.”

The Jock

Avery is a masseur who finds himself servicing a studly if idiotic football jock! His name is Jimmy, he knows literally nothing and he’s desperate for someone to prove it’s possible to swallow every inch of his alpha male meat…

Can Avery satisfy Jimmy’s oral needs?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers rubbed lotion into his feet. The bottom of his feet sometimes got dry and cracked. It was awkward to do it himself because he couldn’t see where it was a problem, and he always ended up with a slippery foot afterwards. On the linoleum-tiled massage room floor at the Thackenswitch Center for Massage, that was problematic.
So when Jimmy Spokes strode in, Avery was surprised — he nearly toppled over and had to grab the counter to support himself. He wasn’t expecting anyone right now, and he lost his balance.
Plus, Jimmy was a burly jock with a studly physique. As a fervent admirer of the male form, he was immediately attracted to Jimmy’s body. Of course he didn’t know who Jimmy was yet, he was just a stranger striding into his massage room uninvited.
“Hey, you’re Avery, right?” Jimmy asked. He cocked his head to the side and tapped his feet on the ground. He had a big round face — not chiseled or handsome like an action movie star, but jolly and earnest and strong. He was naturally powerful though he didn’t have a perfect body. He had a hefty frame, a barrel-shaped chest and plenty of meat to his body. He looked like he was naturally very fat, but only had an athletic shape because he was so high-energy. He was a tight end on the GHU football team.
“Uh… Hey.” Avery furrowed his brow at the shapely intruder.
“I don’t think it’s a big deal, I know she thinks I’m embarrassed, but I’m not.” Jimmy paused. “Okay, I am.” He laughed and turned red, his lightly Southern accent echoing against the high ceilings. “Okay, just… Are you okay? You don’t have to do this.”
Avery had been momentarily distracted by Jimmy’s physique. Now he thought he must have missed something. He didn’t know what Jimmy was talking about.
“Uh… what?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Avery said. “Oh… Wait, you mean Elaine Gambrill? You’re Jimmy?”
He beamed and pounded on his chest, then took off his shirt. His chest was set with huge strapping muscles. “That’s right.” He paused. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do this. Am I supposed to kiss you?” He blushed as red as a cranberry. “I can’t do that! Don’t make me do that! I’m like… I’m not allowed to kiss you, on account of, because of, the reason… See, I, uh… “
“Okay, Jimmy, tell me what you’re talking about. Where’s Elaine?”
“I just don’t want to kiss you.”
“Why was that ever the plan!?”
“It wasn’t!” He hopped up onto the massage table like it was an exam table and he was waiting for his doctor. He laid there with his hands behind his head. “Hey, you watch football, right? I was trying to get Elaine to come over to watch a game and she was being ridiculous. She said football is as boring as watching paint fly, which I think would be amazing, I’d totally watch paint fly. If it was blue, you’d never see it. If you were outside. And it wasn’t cloudy. And it was daytime. Or if it was nighttime, you’d never see it either, but for a different reason.”
“Ah. Okay.” Avery sighed. Elaine had said her new boyfriend was an idiot — she had said it much more nicely and hadn’t used the i-word, but now that Avery had met him, he knew exactly what Elaine had been hinting at.
There was a loud banging knock on the door and a hoot like someone was watching a stripper. Avery was startled, but Jimmy just guffawed. He got up and opened the door. He stuck his head out into the hall and laughed. “Fuck you, George! Get outta here! You’re the pansy!” He turned around and smiled at Avery. “Sorry, was that offensive words? He’s just a total retard. So it’s not offensive. Don’t tell Elaine.”
“Okay. Jimmy, Jimmy, please tell me what you’re here for. Do you want a massage?”
He had a big silly grin on his goofy face. “Oh wow, yeah! Can you do that?”
“Yes, Jimmy. This is a massage parlor. You have to pay. Elaine didn’t tell you I’d do it for free, did she?”
“Not the massage! But I’m not paying for the… other thing.” Jimmy blushed again. He bit his lip. “Is that… ? Sorry, are you…?”
“Jimmy, please just say it. What the hell is going on?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No! No! I’ve told you that, I said it before! If I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t have a face like a confused white guy, would I?”
He laughed again, or rather he continued to laugh, since he hadn’t stopped since he walked in, his deep barrel-shaped voice echoing in the massage room. “Okay, well, I… You’re supposed to, like… jerk me off.” He paused and licked his lips, his ruddy face breaking out in sweat. “Sorry, I guess I thought she told you. Oh, I am supposed to give you this. Is that right?” He pulled a jockstrap out of his pocket and handed it to Avery. “What do you do with that? It’s too big for you. Can you really sell that?”
“Oh.” Avery took the jockstrap. It was used, stained with sweat, and he could smell the unwashed musk of it already. He was too confused still to really think about what was going on. “What? I’m supposed to sell this? Like online?”
“Online? I guess, I don’t care. Is that a rule?”
Avery sighed. “Jimmy, why did you give this to me?”
“Elaine said I had to.”
“Did she give you a reason?”
“She said you would like it,” he said. “She didn’t say why.”
“Ah, okay. Thank you for explaining that,” Avery said. He rolled his eyes. He had made a joke once to Elaine about how he would like to sniff her boyfriend’s jock — that hadn’t been Jimmy, she was dating a different big buff athlete then — and she constantly brought it up. Avery blushed a little because she wasn’t exactly wrong; he’d probably sniff that and jack off later. He was hardly a jockstrap-enthusiast though.
“So you’re not going to sell it?”
“Sell it? No. It’s not-“
“So what do you do with it? Is it a collection?”
“A collection? Jimmy-“
He must have realized there was a sexual component then because his eyes opened wide and he jumped to his feet. He jumped up and down. “Oh it’s a… Oh shit!” He opened the door. “Hey, George! He’s gonna sniff it or something, I think. It’s like, he’s into sweat!”
George was out in the waiting room. He said something Avery couldn’t hear, but it sounded like he and Jimmy had been brainstorming theories as to why the jockstrap was important.
Jimmy went back to the massage table and sat down. He took his shoes and socks off. “I’m glad Elaine didn’t tell you to jerk me off. She might have told you to do it badly. Will you tell her I did it right? Tell her I asked about her. No, wait, tell her I was a good listener. Tell her I told you about the thing… about her job. Tell her I told you what she told me about her job.”
“What?”
“About her boss, he’s like… Jerry, I think. He, uh… She doesn’t like him. There’s a whole thing — I don’t remember, but tell her I said it. Tell her I was listening,” he said. He took his football jersey off and tossed it on the floor. His broad chest muscles were covered in scruffy tufts of fur.
“Listening to what?”
“To her!” He had a big grin like he thought Avery should already know what he was talking about.
“You mean the attendance policy at work? Jerry changed the rules about how much notice she has to give for time off.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that. Tell her I told you about that. Tell her I listen to her.”
“Jimmy… You aren’t really making much sense. Elaine told you to come see me, give me a jockstrap and you want me to tell her that you told me about her job, even though she didn’t.”
“She did!”
“You weren’t listening?”
“I was! I was trying! There was a football game on! Or, I mean, I was playing a football game on my X-Box. It was on the TV,” Jimmy said. “And you have to jerk me off.”
“What?”
“That’s the whole thing!”
“Oh my god, Jimmy, talking to you is like talking to the Cheshire Cat if it smoked a lot of weed. I’m supposed to jerk you off?”
“Yes!” He blushed again. He realized Avery was looking at his bare chest. “Hey, do you think…?” His eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, my neighbor’s like that! Whenever I lift weights he comes out and he has that look on his face!” He shrugged. “You might know him. Like… Spencer or something? He’s an… office… guy? He does something with paper. He uses a computer, I think. Maybe not all the time. Or is it a museum? Do people work in museums?”
“Jimmy, why did Elaine want you to get dome from me?”
“Oh,” he blushed and bit his lip. He jumped back up on the massage table, wearing only dirty jeans. “She said no one can deep-throat it cuz it’s too big.” He beamed proudly. “She said you’ll prove it. You swallow dick better than anyone. She said if you can’t deep-throat it, I can’t ask her to do it ever again.”
“Oh.” It was Avery’s turn to blush. He was a little annoyed that Elaine hadn’t told him first, but then, he suspected that she didn’t plan for it to happen that way. Jimmy was annoying because he had assumed Avery already knew the plan; Elaine no doubt assumed Jimmy would be nice and politely ask Avery to jerk him off. Jimmy assumed somebody else had made all the arrangements.
“You do it up the ass, right?” Jimmy asked. Then he blurted out, “Not me! I mean, I don’t wanna do anal, that’s not why I’m asking. Can you tell Elaine to do it? Tell her I’ll use lots of lube. Tell her it doesn’t always hurt-“
“Jimmy, hush.”
“Tell her that, okay? Come on, I can do it. I had a girl give up the ass once. She loved it.” He leaned in and whispered to Avery, “She was black. Is that okay? Can I say that?”
“Jimmy, be quiet,” Avery said, shaking his head. “Just stop talking. I’ll jerk you off if you stop talking.”
Jimmy did lean back, but only for a half-second before he got up and opened the door again. “Hey, George, he’s doing it! He’s gonna do it!” He laughed at whatever George said. “No way, man, you’d do that! You want it so bad! We all saw you with that fat girl!”
Avery grabbed Jimmy around the waist and pulled him away from the door. Jimmy’s strapping body tensed beneath Avery’s body because he tried to get back out in the hall. Avery dragged him in. “This is a spa, Jimmy, please stop shouting through the halls.”
“Okay, sorry, I was just telling George that we all know he fucked a fat girl, we saw her-“
“Stop, shut up. I know what you were saying. I was there,” Avery said. “Sit down and lean back.”
“Okay. I like fat girls. You’re bossy like Elaine is. You two must hang out bossing each other around,” Jimmy said. “Don’t tell her I said that. I meant it in a good way. Tell her that.” He paused. “Don’t tell her-“
“Jimmy, shut up. I’ll decide what to tell her about today.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. He had just gotten back on the massage table, leaning back and about to pull his pants down when he sat up once more. He looked at the Delaware state flag on the wall (this massage parlor was owned by a Delawarean who was proud of his state for unfathomable reasons). “Is that… a flag?”
Avery rolled his eyes. “Sure is. Nothing gets past you,” Avery said with a sigh. “Elaine needs to sew your mouth shut.”
“No, I lick her pussy and I do a good job and I-“
“Jesus Christ, stop talking about vaginas. Lift your ass up, Jimmy.”
He did lift himself up so Avery could undo his belt and pull his pants down. “Okay, I was just gonna ask if you could-“
“I know what you were asking.”
“-talk Elaine into doing something hot so I could watch. She could do something with other girls. You’d have to provide the girls,” he said.
“I’ll check my pantry,” Avery said. His annoyance disappeared at the sight of Jimmy’s massive manhood. He had been so distracted it hadn’t really occurred to him that Elaine sent him here to prove that he couldn’t be deep-throated, which would only be an issue if he had a huge cock. Now that he thought about it, Elaine had mentioned it was more than a foot long and as thick as a coke can. Avery had assumed that was just bragging, but, it seemed, it was real.
“See, it’s big, huh?” Jimmy got up, limp cock flopping all over, to go to the door and say something to George again. But his pants were around his ankles, a fact that he forgot until he toppled to the ground. “Ah shit.” He groaned. “I fell.”
“Jimmy…” Avery sighed.
Jimmy struggled to stand again. He blushed. “Sorry. I was gonna tell George you were impressed by it. George always says no one wants to see that, he says I have an ugly cock like a dead cricket bat. It doesn’t even make sense. He says I shouldn’t whip it out.” He made it to the door this time. “Hey, George! He said-“
Avery clamped one hand over Jimmy’s mouth. “Jimmy, shut the fuck up. Quit yelling in my massage parlor.”
Jimmy turned around and shuffled back into the room, pants around his ankles and huge cock swaying between his legs. “Sorry. I just wanted to tell George you thought it was the biggest you’ve ever seen.”
“I… didn’t say that.”
Jimmy hopped back up onto the table. His dick bobbed around like a wand. “Hey, can black guys be werewolves?”
It was such a non-sequitur that Avery could do little more than do a double-take and ignore the question. He was excited to finally start on Jimmy’s cock. He shivered in anticipation when he touched Jimmy’s the shaft, which was fleshy and warm. He gave it a stroke.
Jimmy giggled. “Ah, that tickles.” He paused. “So what do you think, can black guys be werewolves?”
“I don’t understand the question. Werewolves aren’t real.”
“So?”
“So… no. Black guys can not be werewolves. No one can,” Avery said. “Can I just jerk you off now?”
“Yeah, fine, go for it,” Jimmy said. Then he shouted towards the door. “Hey, George-!” He stopped himself. He fished his cell phone out of his pants, which were around his ankles, so reaching down there almost made him fall off the table. If he didn’t have such a powerful upper body, he probably would have fallen. “I’ll text him so I don’t have to shout.” Then he did shout anyway, he just aimed it at his cell phone as he typed out his message. “You can’t have black werewolves, George!”
Avery stroked his dick. He hoped focusing on that would make Jimmy focus on his dick. If he got hard, Avery thought, Jimmy would have to pay attention.
“We’re going to write a movie. It’s about werewolves. Werewolves are really cool. Our movie’s gonna have, like, so much shit, it’ll be great. We watch all the action movies, man, we got it figured out. We’re experts. We’re totally going to do this. It’s not just werewolves, there’s like… helicopters. And some girl stuff too, don’t worry, like there’s a science chick and some romance shit, and like… and, uh… like there’ll be scenes where people just talk. And, uh, shadows. And colors. So it’ll be cool. We’re gonna call it Primal Power. It’s gonna be badass. There’s aliens too.”
His dick was getting hard, even though Jimmy seemed to be paying no attention to it. He looked like he thought Avery might invest in this movie if he just described it well enough. Avery had literally no money, but Jimmy didn’t consider that possibility. Avery got down lower and planted his lips on it. The taste of his funky cock, mixed with faint, watered-down cologne, flooded Avery’s senses.
That got Jimmy’s attention. He looked down, seemingly surprised by what was happening. Then he moaned and his dick twitched. “No vampires in the movie, George is wrong about that, no way am I putting vampires in… oh, damn that feels good.” Avery resolved to stop responding to him at all. Jimmy would have to stop talking once his dick was fully hard and in Avery’s mouth.
It was so thick and long it didn’t even feel real at first. Soon it was hard as steel, throbbing and pulsating beneath Avery’s tongue. Avery slathered spit up and down. For the first time since he had walked in, Jimmy was quiet for a few moments.
“Oh shit, man, I can’t believe you’re doing it,” Jimmy said. He laughed. “Hey, George! He’s doin’ it!” He laughed sheepishly. “My dick’s hard.” The he moaned again and his voice broke. “Ah, fuck, fuck, my dick’s real hard.”
“It’s so big,” Avery said with a smirk and a smile. It was hard to believe how huge it was. Jimmy was a big boy, so it almost didn’t seem as big as it really was — it didn’t go all the way to his knees, for example, because he was so tall, so until Avery touched it, it didn’t seem as big as others he had touched. But now that he stroked its veiny shaft, it was clear that this was bigger than any dick he had touched before. On a short man, it would have reached to his knees and maybe even past that.
“I got a donkey dick,” Jimmy said with a silly leer, a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “That’s what Coach Marshall says.”
“He’s right.” Avery tried to deep-throat him, but it was obvious that couldn’t happen. He’d have struggled to deep-throat a cock half this size.
“You can’t do it?” Jimmy said. He shrugged and sighed. “Can you tell Elaine you did?”
“She’d just make me demonstrate it on a zucchini or something,” Avery said. “She wouldn’t believe me. She’s smaller than me, Jimmy. If I can’t deep-throat you, she can’t either.”
“Man…” He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Avery swallowed as deep as he could. He enjoyed struggling to deep-throat a man, and Jimmy was perfect. When Avery’s fingers crawled up Jimmy’s powerful chest to tweak his nipples, Jimmy’s eyes opened wide like he was shocked. He watched his pecs ripple beneath Avery’s grasp.
A painful-sounded strangled cry erupted in Jimmy’s throat. His balls crawled up in his sac, and that entire cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s mouth. The flavor of salty cum hit him just seconds before the first jet of juices hit the back of his throat. It trickled down his gullet.
“Ah shit, man, ah shit, I’m sorry!” He groaned and grabbed Avery’s head, holding him in place as he drained a massive load into Avery’s throat.
Salty sweet cum flooded Avery’s senses. He guzzled down every drop, as Jimmy continued to apologize — it soon became apparent that Elaine (and probably other girlfriends in the past) had demanded that Jimmy not shoot in her mouth. With a big dick and low-hanging balls like that, that made sense to Avery. Jimmy apparently assumed that Avery felt the same way.
Instead, Avery loved cum. He would have gladly swallowed even more of it. Its creamy richness coated his belly and the sour flavor enlivened his senses.
He sighed as he pulled back. Jimmy let out an even louder, more grandiose sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, while Avery slurped the last remnants of cum off his dick. Jimmy’s broad muscles twitched and he grunted.
“How was that?”
“Ah, hell yeah, man,” Jimmy said. His red face looked relaxed, ready to go to sleep. But he swung his legs to the ground and ran to the door again. He stepped out into the hall, cum-dripping cock still half-hard and jutting out from his hefty body. “Hey George! I did it! He couldn’t deep-throat me either, man, you were wrong! His throat isn’t infinitely big and I didn’t feel his Adam’s apple and he said the movie sounds amazing, but black guys can’t be werewolves, you dummy!”
“Jimmy! Shut up!”
Jimmy blushed as he realized he had walked out stark naked, dick still dripping fluids onto the floor. No one else was in the hall, but there was an old lady in the waiting room peering towards Jimmy as though trying to figure out if he was naked or not. She squinted through her glasses. Jimmy darted back into the massage room.
“Ah, man, that old lady totally saw my knob. Hey George! Did you see that old lady, she totally-?”
“Jimmy, shut up! Put your clothes on! Or I’m telling Elaine you’re a terrible listener.”
“Okay, fine, fine, sorry, geez,” he said. He giggled. “Oh, yeah, can you tell Elaine I take, uh, academics seriously? Tell her I study a lot. And I shower every day.”
“Just put your clothes on.” Avery sighed, glad to have Jimmy finally leave. He hadn’t even gotten his clothes all the way on, still pulling his pants up when he got distracted and ran into the hall. He shouted for George, tripped on his pants and rammed into the wall, where he knocked a painting of a lighthouse off the wall.
“Sorry,” Jimmy said absent-mindedly. He headed out into the waiting room. “He did it, George! I told you he would!”
Avery shook his head. He got out his cell phone. He was going to text Elaine something about her idiot boyfriend.