arguing – Page 2 – Mansploitation

The Plumber

Rob hires a plumber with a body to die for and an ex-wife he can’t stand. Luckily Rob is there to help him out with a soft touch, an open mouth and a willing ass!
Can Rob get his plumbing fixed at last?

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Rob had never seen a pleasant plumber. They were always fat and gross in his experience, like a sour frog mated with a rejected hog. So when Dino showed up, his knees went weak. Rob stood there at the front door, quaking like a child.
Dino was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with swarthy skin betraying his Greek heritage, though his accent had the baritone stawk of an American man. He had a dense mop of curly black hair that extended in an unruly mess all the way to his shoulders, not that he had a long hairstyle — he had a short hairstyle that was overgrown enough to cover his nape. He wore a tight wifebeater, much too small for his expansive frame, and a thick layer of curly black hair extruded from beneath it.
He had a surly look about him. A lot of people would have seen him as rude — quite accurately — but Rob didn’t care. Rudeness didn’t bother Rob. Meanness did. Some people had forgotten there was a difference. Rob thought that difference was the most important fact that was largely unknown and unspoken of.
It was a simple job, and it only took a few hours. Rob went away to surf the web. It was difficult to distract himself, and he kept getting hard thinking about Dino there under the sink. Dino was sprawled out, head in the under-sink cabinet, long thick legs stretched across the kitchen floor.
“What?” Dino’s angry voice spat out. It was deep and resonant.
Rob was flush with fear. Had he angered Dino? Had he offended him? He wasn’t even in the same room. He cautiously crept into the kitchen.
“I told you about that.” Dino said. His fingers gripped the cell phone tight as he held it to his ear, rolling out from the undersink cabinet. The wide nostrils of his fat nose flared. His shoulder muscles rippled beneath the wifebeater that was now sweaty and marked with grease. He stood up and paced in the kitchen. “I told you — baby, look, I said I’d pay for it, right? So — so just fuckin’ wait for it! Don’t tell me not to curse at you, you’ve been cursing at me since the moment I answered the phone! Well fuck you, I told you about that and you dumped me, so it’s none of your business, you fat stupid cow!”
He hung up the phone and nearly slammed it on the counter but stopped himself at the last moment. He tossed it into his toolbox instead, then he roared and shadowboxed the air, his face ruddy and his hands tightened into fists.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “That was my bitch ex-wife. She’s such a fucking whore. You know she’s makin’ me pay for my daughter’s makeup? I don’t even think she should be wearing makeup yet, she’s only thirteen. I said no. I threw it all away into the garbage. But I don’t get a say, I just have to pay for it.” His face was red and he paced in Rob’s tiny kitchen. He stopped and looked at Rob. “Sorry. She’s just… She’s being a bitch. Wants me to cough up two hundred bucks out of the blue. Like I’m fuckin’ made of money.”
“I know how you can make two hundred bucks,” Rob said with a flirtatious grin, which he hoped looked nonchalant. “Not plumbing. I mean, in addition to the plumbing.” Rob reached out to pat Dino on the belly through his wifebeater. He had so much body hair there Rob didn’t feel the firmness of his flesh, just the tangle of body hair beneath the fabric of his shirt. Dino showed no reaction. Rob said, “And if you do it the way I tell you, I’ll give you five hundred.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Do what?”
“I’ll give you a hint,” Rob said. He blushed and grabbed for the loose waistband of Dino’s jeans. He tickled the rim of his boxers, and Dino’s eyes opened wide. His muscles all tensed. “It’s long, I’m pretty sure, and thick, and it’s probably a light brown, and I’ll make it feel very good-“
“You, uh…” Dino paused. “You tryin’…?” He looked away and bit his lip.
“Yes. Exactly. I’m not big and tough like you, and I’ve read that playing with the dick of a bigger man can make me stronger. I’ll make you forget that bitch ex-wife,” Rob said. “I just want you to help me embarrass my own embarrassing former family. My dad. He’s disowned me, I like to call him sometimes and let some guy he’d think is white trash make it clear he’s made me his bitch.”
Dino blushed and laughed nervously. He covered his mouth with his face. He grabbed his crotch with his other hand. “Let’s, uh, be clear,” he said. His eyes flashed menacingly. “I ain’t gonna touch your dick. You don’t get up in my ass or nothing. I will rip yo’ face off if you even think about it.”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’ll swallow your dick. You stick me in the ass. You make a lotta noise when I call my stepdad,” Rob said with a shrug.
Dino paused. He caressed his own chest, his muscles rippling as he looked away from Rob — he found eye contact very intense and uncomfortable right now. He sighed like he was going to say yes, but then he stopped and reconsidered. He opened his mouth. He laughed again. “Aw, fuck, it’s for my daughter…”
“A noble cause,” Rob said. He gently touched Dino’s meaty but flat belly, through his wifebeater. Then he pushed one of his fingers beneath the fabric, tracing a trail through the sweaty hair there. His chest muscles rippled when Rob came into contact with them.
“You, uh, want me to take a shower first?” He asked. He raised one arm and sniffed at the pit. “I stink-“
“No!” Rob blushed and rammed his head into Dino’s hairy armpit. He suckled on the coarse, sweat-slickened hairs there, which made Dino chuckle. Normally Dino was ticklish there, but he was too shocked to react that way. He was used to people treating his sweaty, hairy body as gross — as impressive, given his muscles, but still foul-smelling and unpleasant no matter how much he washed. Dino was used to it by now, so he found it weird and off-putting to have someone actually worshiping every inch of his raunchy flesh.
“Damn, you are nasty,” Dino said with a bass chuckle, which Rob heard through the thickness of Dino’s chest.
Rob licked the flesh of Dino’s chest. He licked over Dino’s hairy pecs, lapping at the kinky hairs and sucking up all the sweat. Dino’s muscles rippled as he tensed up. He had never had a girl who was really, genuinely into his muscles and hairy body — they occasionally thought he was handsome enough, but they would have preferred he was smaller and smoother.
But Dino couldn’t do anything about that. He had been beat up too much as a kid to be willing to slim down, and anyway he was a big boy by nature. He put on muscle-weight easily, so he worked out a lot. At first he had only worked out because he wanted to look good for when he picked up chicks. He had simply overshot his goal, and he refused to change his trajectory, so he just kept getting bigger and bigger and less and less appealing to women.
He felt self-conscious and vulnerable when Rob undid his belt and dropped Dino’s heavy workpants. His cock and balls dangled. His dick had never been so limp, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get hard. Finally he had the bright idea to bring up some medical-supply catalogue models on his cell phone. Hot chicks dressed as nurses usually got him going. It was close enough to pornography, if you know the right sites to look at.
Rob saw Dino take out his phone and mumble to himself as he looked up some chicks. Rob didn’t mind, he was used to servicing big alphas in need of women to get fully hard. He inhaled deeply of Dino’s musk, then swallowed his dick to the root. It was limp and soft, but as soon as it touched Rob’s tongue, it twitched.
It pulsated in Rob’s mouth. He could tell when Dino found a pic he was really into because his dick jumped and hardened. It went from soft to erect as stonehenge in seconds, and Dino groaned over Rob’s head. He began pumping his hips back and forth, gently at first but with more force with each thrust of his hips. His swollen cock rubbed on Rob’s tongue, while Rob’s hands gripped the hairy firmness of Dino’s thighs.
As the sour taste of precum overwhelmed Rob, he gurgled merrily. Dino tasted salty and sweet, and a little like seawater — his precum tasted like Rob imagined seawater did on a remote Greek island. It tasted sunny and warm and savory, and it made Rob’s mouth water as he savored the creaminess and the brine that assaulted his senses. He licked and lapped at that throbbing cock, while giggling at how it made Dino twist and writhe as though it hurt.
Really though Dino just contorted because it felt so good. His knees were weak. His body was overcome by pleasure wafting over him in waves. He wanted to grab ahold of Rob’s head and fuck his throat like a slut’s pussy. Dino rarely got the chance to cum in anyone’s mouth like that — mostly girls thought his body hair was gross enough that any kind of contact was a favor. Women disliked the way his chest hair, back hair, crotch hair, leg hair and armpit hair all kind bled together into a carpet of fur. Rob loved a hairy man. Dino’s ex-wife had made him lick her pussy without ever sucking his dick, and then when he complained, she called him a misogynist.
None of that bothered Rob in the slightest. He loved a hairy man.
His cock spewing prejizz into Rob’s mouth, Dino grunted. He was still on the page for that nursing catalogue when a call came. It bounced him off the website and those beautiful blonde nurses disappeared. He was angered, especially when he saw that it was his ex-wife again.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he murmured to himself. He answered the phone, which required him to bend over and grab it from the toolbox he had put it away in. His hairy asscheeks loomed high in the air for just a moment. Then Dino snarled into the phone, “What?”
“You are such an asshole, Dino! You never told me about that slutty bitch at the club. It’s just like Tampa all over again-“
“It is not, you stupid bitch!” Dino screamed. “I did tell you about her, and I ain’t fuck her, and we ain’t together so it wouldn’t be any of ya bizness if I did! I don’t gotta tell you ‘bout this shit!”
“If you ever want to see your daughter, I have to be convinced you have a healthy living environment, Dino. You can’t be getting drunk with sluts.”
“I don’t do that when I have Lydia! You are one miserable bitch of a cock-sucking whore! How’s that accountant’s dick taste, huh?”
“Dino! I can’t deal with you when you’re like this. I oughta send my brother over there-“
“Go ahead, I’ll kick his ass again,” Dino said. “What do you want, Marina? I’m busy right now, I got a girl over.”
You’re not at work?
“She was one of my clients. She been beggin’ for my meat,” Dino said.
Yeah, right. You’re a pussy, Dino. And you’re a hairy fuck.
Dino whispered, “make some sounds like a girl.” Then he put the phone next to Rob’s mouth. Rob blushed but did as he was told. As he swallowed, he made loud gurgling sounds, taking care to ensure his voice was as feminine as could be.
Ew, god, Dino, did you just put the phone near your cock? That sounded disgusting. You’re disgusting. She sounds like a total slut. And she sounds fat.
“You’re disgusting, you stupid bitch,” Dino said. “I gotta go. I got my dick in a girl who’s worth a damn.” He hung up, glad he had gotten the final word for once. That rarely happened. He grinned down at Rob.
His dick throbbed in Rob’s mouth like getting the final word made his erection firmer. Now that Dino had gotten more comfortable with this whole thing, he went ahead and plowed into his throat hard. He wrapped his meaty palms around the back of Rob’s head. Rob paused to situate himself at the perfect angle to deep-throat Dino, who began grinding his dick into Rob’s gullet.
That must have sent a wave of sensations through Dino, who groaned and threw his head back when he felt the earliest tingling of his orgasm. He went slow, not wanting to blow his load so soon. He ground his dick into Rob’s throat, which spasmed and struggled to accept every inch of his load.
Dino had been raised Greek Orthodox, so he was overcome with guilt as he pounded. Dino had always thought masturbation was wrong. A man should save up his seed for the holiness of matrimonial passion. He really ought to start going to church, to prove he’s not a degenerate, but also because his ex could try to get him in legal trouble and a history of going to church would look good in court. Plus Dino’s mother would want be furious if she knew he wasn’t a churchgoer.
It didn’t seem like it should be sinful to Rob. He was just jacking off in a welcome, warm, wet hole — what could be sinful about that? The Bible didn’t forbid it. Rob pulled off Dino’s cock and slobbered on the tip. He smiled up at Dino.
“You’re gonna put on a show on my phone too, right? I wanna embarrass my dad,” Rob said.
Dino shrugged. “Fine, whatevuh.” His muscles rippled again as a shiver of pleasure ran up his body. Rob didn’t even stop servicing his cock when he pulled his own phone out of the pocket, and he didn’t let it pop out of his mouth as he scrolled through his contacts either. Finally, he dialed his dad.
When Rob gave him his phone, Dino was surprised — he assumed Rob would start the conversation. He didn’t know what to say to Rob’s father, and he was so overwhelmed by the pleasure snaking through his body that he didn’t know if he could come up with anything to say.
“Yo. Hey, Mr. Winthrop?” Dino asked, his voice wavering because the pleasure arising from his loins.
Yes. Who, may I ask, is calling? He sounded annoyed at being interrupted. Rob snickered around the cock in his mouth. He’d changed his phone number so his dad would accept his calls again, and it looked like that worked.
“Yo, uh, this is Dino. I just wanted to say thanks, for makin’ ya son. He got a nice tight throat, and my dick fits perfectly down it.”
A loud sigh came from the phone. Am I on speaker-phone? Robert, this is truly immature behavior.
“His mouth is full, sir, full of my dick. He looks good wit’ dick in his throat,” Dino said. “You wanna listen as I stick ‘im? I’m gonna stick him in the ass now.”
He grabbed Rob by the hips, and pulled him off. His dick was cold and alone, begging for attention — Rob tried to stroke it as he got in position, but Dino kept moving, making it impossible to jack him off as they arranged themselves.
Rob dropped his pants and bent over on all fours. He put the phone on the ground in front of his face, so his father could hear everything that happened.
“Hey, Dad! I’m just using my inheritance,” Rob said. “I paid Dino five hundred dollars to stick his dick in me.”
Robert… You shame me.
“I know, but you deserve it,” Rob said. He threw his head back and moaned as Dino slipped into him. There was an intense, uncontrollable pressure. He moaned again, as loud as he could, a powerful, cringing sound that resonated in the kitchen. Rob’s father groaned in disgust.
You don’t need to call me for this.
“I absolutely do!” Rob said. His voice broke as a twinge of pleasure erupted in his prostate. He pushed his ass back, squeezing every inch of Dino’s dick into him.
Now that he had started and was into the groove of it, Dino was less nervous. He was surprised by how easy this really was — Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s. It helped that Rob was such a feminine man, with a bubble-butt that was smooth, clean and unblemished, not to mention tight. He writhed like a sexy snake below Dino’s firm body.
“Yo’ son is a pervert, Mr. Winthrop!” Dino called out. He cackled. “That’s my dick in his ass!”
Really, son, you are disgusting. I’m hanging up now. And then he did so.
Rob was disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised. Dad always hung up once the noise started getting really passionate; Rob liked to imagine that he sobbed once he hung up the phone, but he didn’t know if that was true or not. Rob reached behind himself to spread his asscheeks, giving Dino more access to his asshole.
With a loud roar, Dino slapped Rob’s asscheek. He held onto it tightly as he humped. When he had gotten started, Dino didn’t want to touch any more of Rob than he absolutely had to. He was worried he’d feel some body hair and remember he was deep in a man. He’d be humiliated if his dick went soft in the middle of this.
But now that he was into it, he wasn’t worried about that all. Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s, and he was so smooth he put most girls to shame. Dino gripped his ass and slammed his dick all the way in.
“Take it, bitch, god-damn!”
Once he was more comfortable with it, he knew what position he wanted — no girl ever let him do it for more than a few seconds because they said he was too heavy and hairy. But Dino had long wanted to do it laying on his partner’s back.
So that was what he did. He rammed his dick until it was all the way in, and he wrapped one forearm in front of Rob’s mouth. He sighed and moaned directly into the back of Rob’s head. His sweaty, hairy chest plopped down on Rob’s back. Bliss flooded Dino’s body, making his chest muscles spasm and flex against the smoothness of Rob’s spine and shoulders.
Entirely pinned beneath the Greek giant, Rob couldn’t even squirm, due to Dino’s heavy body pressing down on his back. He couldn’t breathe either, both because of the mass of Greek muscle atop his back and because he was too overcome by passion to take a breath. The body hair scratched Rob’s smooth back and left a sheen of sweat that Rob both felt and smelled.
“Hell, bitch, slut… You take dick good, damn! You must do this a lot…”
Dino rotated his hips, moving his dick in a wide circle within Rob’s ass. He hit every corner of Rob’s insides, his cock aiming into every part of Rob’s guts. He could even tell — as disgusting as it was — when his dick touched Rob’s prostate because it made Rob writhe beneath his body. He couldn’t move much, but Dino could feel his body struggle to squirm, and he sensed the pleasure roiling Rob’s innards.
Rob gasped, and Dino grunted.
Finally Dino felt his orgasm coming on strong. Rob had stopped breathing, the pressure in his ass so intense he couldn’t even gasp. Dino snorted like a hog, the sound of his rutting filling the air and echoing in Rob’s ears. Spasm of pleasure wracked both men’s bodies, which made Dino’s muscles ripple while Rob gaspingly pressed his back into Dino’s hairy chest.
“Here I go, baby, gonna fill you up, I love you so much, sweetheart-” Dino stopped and blushed because he remembered he wasn’t talking to a female. Luckily Rob either didn’t hear his words or didn’t take them seriously.
A wad of hot cum sprayed into Rob’s ass. Dino groaned loudly, his deep voice resonant and rough like sandpaper. His cum was hot and creamy, and it seeped into Rob’s flesh. Rob moaned as he shot his own load onto the floor and into his hand. Dino wrinkled his nose in disgust — he hadn’t known Rob was pleasuring himself — but he didn’t stop Rob even if it seemed disrespectful. Dino had been raised to believe a real man commanded respect, and he didn’t let his bitch distract him.
But this was too potent an orgasm to do anything while it still coursed through his veins. Dino’s hands curled into claws, then tightened into fists. He smacked Rob, not outright punching him of course, but hitting him in an affectionate way — or at least he saw it as affectionate; Rob saw it as bullying, but he was so aroused by it so he didn’t complain — harder than he would have ever hit a girl. More and more jizz jetted into Rob, until he was drenched inside and couldn’t even feel if it was still happening. But he could still feel Dino’s thickness throbbing within him, as cream and santorum dripped out between his legs.
He burped and laughed. Any girl would have kicked him out of bed for burping in their face, but Rob inhaled deeply of it and moaned. Dino screwed his nose up in disgust. His cock slowly limpened, but he remained in position, deep in Rob’s ass, his heavy body pressing down on Rob’s back.
“You ain’t gonna stiff me, is you?” Dino asked. It hadn’t occurred to him before now that Rob could just refuse to pay him, and Dino would have no recourse. He should have demanded money upfront. His dick still lay in Rob’s ass, its pulsations sending waves of pleasure up his spine.
“No. I won’t. I’ve got cash in my wallet,” Rob said, his voice strained and clipped. He bit his lip and moaned.
Dino nodded and moved to get up. When he did, his dick swam through the sea of cum that gurgled within Rob’s ass. He could feel the sticky fluid clinging to his soft cockflesh. Rivulets of jizz slid out Rob’s behind and onto the floor.
“Wait,” Rob said. “Can you stay there for a moment? I like feeling you inside me.”
“Fine,” Dino said with a grunt. It now felt pretty gross — this was more what he had imagined it would feel like before he started. He was intimately aware with every passing moment that he was inside a man’s ass. There was no way to pretend he was with a woman, not now. He reached out and grabbed Rob’s pants. “In here?”
“Yeah.” Rob’s voice was weak and wavery.
Dino pulled out the wallet. He briefly considered stealing Rob’s credit cards, but he figured someone as wealthy as Rob probably had excellent security on the cards, and Dino didn’t want to get in any legal trouble, as he might lose the right to see his daughter at all. He pulled out the cash — there was six hundred dollars in there. He took it all, though he had only been promised five hundred dollars.
“I’m taking six hundred dollars. The extra hundred bucks is for the performance I put on for your daddy,” Dino said. He pulled his dick out of Rob’s ass. “And you still gotta pay for the sink too.”
“Okay,” Rob said with a sigh. He turned around and frotted his dick with Dino’s much bigger, caramel-colored shaft. He smushed them both together.
Dino sneered. “That’s nasty, that’s nasty,” he said. But he let it continue for a few seconds, looking away. “I ain’t do no circle-jerkin’ since I was a merchant marine.” He glanced at Rob’s curious face. “When I lived in Greece, I was a merchant marine. Ain’t no females around, just a buncha A-rabs, and they do, y’know…” His cheeks turned red. “They do circle-jerkin’. I ain’t wanna.” He laughed. “But I did.” He finally put his cock away.
“Thanks, Dino,” Rob said. “You’re a great plumber.”

The Gangsta Bottoms

Avery is at a bachelor party when the others guys all go off with a ho. He’s not interested, but the pimp Slim Jay has something for everyone… even when that something is an anatomically gifted alpha male gangsta willing to bend over and let this twink climb on top!

Can Avery find satisfaction from Slim Jay’s diverse stable?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was embarrassed for himself because he assumed Slim Jay was a mugger at first. Luckily he didn’t respond based on that assumption, so no one knew what he thought.
He and the rest of Jinky’s bachelor party had stumbled out of Lipsweet, a strip club in Lawndale, Chicago. They were all in high spirits, even Avery who thought he’d hate that part of the evening. He was not into strippers. It was fun enough though, and the other partygoers bought Avery a bunch of drinks. That was good, because cash was strapped right now.
The fresh air was cold and invigorating, but it came with a brisk wind that soon made it uncomfortable. Avery did not like the Chicago weather. It was only October, and it already felt like February. The men he was partying with, including the soon-to-be groom Jinky, were drunk, most of them drunker than Avery. They were loud and rambunctious. That soon dwindled though, once they were out of the strip club.
When they made it around the corner, Slim Jay was waiting. He shook hands with Jinky, while Avery reached for his wallet before realizing that this was not a mugging.
Slim Jay was a pimp. He had dark brown skin, a clean-shaven chin beneath his handsome face, which was marred by a scar — which looked recent — that stretched almost to one eye, like someone had attempted to gouge out his eye. He wore a violet suit and a yellow tie, with a purple hat and white belt, and somehow the clashing colors all worked on his muscular frame. He was flanked by a bevy of beautiful women in slutty clothes.
“Alright, gentlemen,” he said. “Step right up and pick the female of yo’ choosing. It’s all been paid for. Y’all got the bachelor party package. Congrats to the lucky groom. You pick first.” He nodded to Jinky.
The guys all jostled, confused at first, then excited. The best man had paid for this, that was why he was making smirky comments about “not nutting in your pants before the afterparty” all night. What was even the point of all the lapdances then? Avery rolled his eyes. They could have seen a show or gone to a nice restaurant and still fucked these cheap-ass whores all night. Or for an hour or two, since Avery doubted that these women were paid enough to spend a whole night with every man here.
Well, every man minus one. Avery didn’t intend to do it.
The others all paired off with a girl, and they headed in giggley pairs to a cheap motel across the street, the Top Inn. Jinky himself went first and got two beautiful girls, the two cleanest-looking ones in the group. That was apparently part of the ‘bachelor party package’ that the pimp had offered.
Awkward and nervous, Avery hung around until the end. It seemed they were all so excited to get laid after hours of being blue-balled in the strip club that none of Avery’s friends noticed he was left last. Finally there were only two girls left, one rather fat and the other horse-faced, which was presumably why they had been last to be chosen.
“Well? Pick one, honky,” Slim Jay said when Avery was the only one left. “I ain’t got all night.”
“Oh, uh… No, thanks. I’m uh…” Avery blushed. “No, thank you.”
“He don’t wanna, Slim Jay,” said the fat one with a chuckle. “Ain’t you see that? He got a wrist limp as a dead snake, and-“
“Shut up, Bethlyn,,” Slim Jay said. He peered closely at Avery.
“No offense, it’s just not my thing. I don’t sleep with prostitutes. I’m not even… I didn’t even get any lapdances in there. Well, one, but that wasn’t my choice,” Avery said. “I’m friends with Jinky from where he used to work, I don’t even know most of those guys-“
“Shut up,” Slim Jay said. He stroked his chin. “You like my hos?”
“Uh… Not… in a sexual way,” Avery said. “They’re cool and all.” He gave a smile and a nod hello to the thick ho, who smiled more eagerly back. She waved at him. “I love your top.”
“Thank you, baby,” she cooed, the motion of which made her corpulent breasts jiggle.
“Shut up.”
Slim Jay nodded. “You Christian?”
Avery nodded.
“Fine. Go to Room 16. Just wait there. I’ll send you someone.” Slim Jay turned and walked away, pulling out his cell phone as he went.
The fat prostitute and the awkward, horsey-faced girl shrugged. They followed after Slim Jay, who went toward the motel lobby. Not sure what else to do, Avery just went to Room 16. If nothing else, he could wait there until the other groomsmen were done. This would not be the first time he waited for other men to be done at a brothel. Room 16 was unlocked, even though this was one of those motel rooms whose doors automatically lock. The lock was disabled, apparently.
He had just given up on Slim Jay doing anything when there was a knock at the door.
Avery got up from the bed, where he had been trying to figure out the remote control. He wasn’t into prostitutes. If Slim Jay brought him a new ho, Avery was just going to tell her to leave.
Standing there, glowering in the doorway to Room 16, was Nutter, a tall, broad-shouldered black man with a barrel chest and a cocky grin on his face. He wore a powder-blue baseball cap backwards, and a large crucifix was tattooed running up his sternum to his neck. He had dark brown skin that was smooth and creamy, and he carried with him a bottle of malt liquor that he finished as he entered the room.
“Yo,” he said, showing off his alluring smile and dimples. He stepped in, his muscular chest tense and puffed out like he meant to intimidate someone, despite the smiling face. “I’m Nutter.”
Slim Jay stood outside the door, with his arms crossed over his violet suit and purple tie. He smiled at Avery’s shocked face. “Nutter’ll do anything you say. Have a good bachelor party, man”
“Thanks…” Avery’s voice trailed off. He had no idea what was going on. The motel room door slammed shut. Of course, the lock had been disabled, so it simply bounced in the doorframe before settling on the threshold, barely shut at all.
But the door was shut enough to give an air of privacy to the dingy motel room.
“You blow weed?” Nutter asked. He pulled out a blunt he had been keeping behind one of his ears. He lit it and puffed til it had a good cherry, then he passed it to Avery, who took a deep drag. He hadn’t smoked a blunt since high school, so he coughed before passing it back. Nutter smiled. Avery took another hit, then passed it to Nutter, who puffed on it like a smokestack. He sucked down like a third of the blunt in his two hits.
Then Nutter held the smoke in his open mouth before exhaling a long plume. “A’ight… You want me to jerk you off, right? Let’s get it over wit’. You gonna stick me in the ass, honky?”
“Oh. Uh… Okay. Yeah, I, uh… I do that, do you, uh, mean…?” Avery was sure he had heard this wrong. He had to laugh at his own nervousness. This was like a dream, he told himself, you better not get so nervous you can’t even take advantage of it while you can. There was no way Slim Jay had a stable of both pretty women — kinda pretty — as well as this alpha male mandingo with the huge muscles and a no-doubt tight ass.
Nutter put the blunt down on the ashtray on the nightstand. He took off his hat, removed his shirt, then put his hat back on. His bare chest muscles rippled.
“So, uh… Nutter, are you…? I mean, uh, do you work, uh, for Slim Jay?”
“You mean am I a ho like a bitch?” Nutter asked. He scoffed. He stood up. He took another puff on the blunt, then exhaled the smoke directly in Avery’s face. “Do I look like a female ho?”
“No! That’s why I was asking! You didn’t seem like it, like that,” Avery said. What if he got beat up and robbed? Did Slim Jay really have any reason to trust Nutter? What if this was a set-up?
“No. I do not work for Slim Jay, whiteboy. I got cash, see?” He pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. “I got whores of my own, turnin’ tricks for me. Ya dig?”
“Oh. You’re a pimp?”
“Not ‘xactly, but yeah. I got whores workin’ for me, so…” He shrugged as he took off his clean sneakers.
Avery nervously undressed. He was a thin and delicate man, and he felt tiny standing next to Nutter, who was a round-chested, bulging-muscled macho. His chiseled torso was smooth, but Avery could tell it was only because he shaved it, whereas Avery had always been naturally smooth.
“You smell like girl,” Nutter said. He inhaled deeply.
“Uh… I guess… thanks?” Avery said. His dick dangled between his legs. He was proud of it — he rivaled Nutter’s own cock size. Judging from the look on Nutter’s face, he had intended to make fun of Avery for having a small dick and was annoyed to see that Avery didn’t, so he couldn’t.
Nutter got down on his knees. He laughed. “You believe me that I’m alpha as fuck?”
“Yeah!” Avery said. He blurted it out, and as soon as he said it, it was apparent that Nutter didn’t believe him, which made sense since Avery’s instinct was to say no.
“No, you don’t. You just want me to jerk you off,” Nutter said. “But you don’t get it.” He took Avery’s dick in hand and put it in his mouth, for just a second. “See? I can do it.”
“Yeah, I-“
Nutter scowled and frowned at Avery. “I was locked up for a long time, that’s all. I had a girlfriend. I mean, she was a boy, but I plowed her like a bitch and I always call her a her. I-“
“You had a girlfriend in prison-?”
“Don’t interrupt me. I plowed her ass until it turned into a pussy. She grew a clit just to satisfy me, whiteboy, and so I could make her cum so hard her teeth fall out. You believe that?”
“Well… Not really. No…”
“Shut up. I did it, I swear to God,” he said. He kissed Avery’s cock on the tip. “She had a dick like yours. Sometimes I liked to satisfy her dick. It feels good to be close to someone, y’know. Can’t be alone forever. I wanted to make someone happy, ya dig?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “That makes sense.” He had trouble concentrating because Nutter seemed so aggressive even though his words were not. Avery couldn’t even think about what Nutter was saying. Nutter just scoffed at Avery, flopping his limp dick between his fingers.
“So go fuck yourself, whiteboy,” Nutter said. Then he swallowed Avery’s dick again.
The hostility in the air made Avery nervous. He disliked confrontation. But the anxiety actually made this even better than he expected — in truth, Nutter had an awkward, sloppy mouth. Avery felt his teeth more than once, and he attacked Avery’s dick as though he was angry with it. Avery couldn’t stop thinking about how Nutter could bite his dick off anytime.
That didn’t stop him from getting hard though, and the more anxious he got, the more his dick spasmed and throbbed, stiffening and prodding Nutter’s throat. Since Nutter was so big, he could deep-throat Avery easily, and with just a little struggle, he managed to nestle his nose deep into Avery’s flesh. Pleasure bubbled up Avery’s body.
“Aw, okay, oh god…” Avery babbled, too anxious to keep his mouth shut. It felt so good he stood on his toes and his eyes fluttered, hands hovering above Nutter’s head.
Finally Nutter pulled away. He swallowed, snorted and sniffled. He shot an angry look up at Avery, who blushed and turned his head away. Nutter stood and reached for his pants. He withdrew a bottle of lube.
“You wanna get in my ass, whiteboy?”
“Uh… okay… Yeah,” Avery said.
Nutter continued his hostile glare, never breaking eye contact for a moment as he squeezed lube out onto his hand. He rubbed it between his asscheeks. “You ain’t half the man Ramon was.”
“Okay. Ramon?”
“That was my girl, man.” Nutter spat onto the carpet. He sounded like he thought Avery should have already known that. “In prison. She tasted better than you.” He smirked at Avery, then he shook his head.
“Oh. Sorry,” Avery said. “You know, I’m like… cool with that, right?”
“Yes, you are. You wanted to ram a big black buck, and so that’s what Slim Jay got.”
“Whoah, that is not what happened. I never asked Slim Jay for anything,” Avery said. “You came in here and asked to jerk me off. You asked me to stick you in the ass. So I’m doing it. Don’t get mad at me for doing what you asked me to.” Avery blushed. He was rarely that confrontational with anyone.
Nutter bristled and wrinkled his nose. Then he smiled again. “Whatever, fuck Slim Jay. He’s a shithead. I turned his mom out, y’know,” he said. “She’s a trashy crackwhore.”
“Oh. Okay,” Avery said, slim-lipped and sucking in his breath.
“You’ll go at me hard, right?” he said. “I can take it.” He bent over the bedspread and clutched the blanket there. His big brown ass was bare, gleaming with lubricant.
Avery gulped and spread his asscheeks. He felt small in comparison to Nutter, whose asscheeks were wider than Avery’s entire chest. He rubbed each cheek and moaned at the power he felt in their quivering flesh.
“You gotta get lower,” Avery said softly. “You’re too tall.” His dick was at Nutter’s knee-height.
“Damn, short-ass whiteboy,” he said. He scooted down so he squatted on his ankles. Avery had to sit on the ground under him, making for a very awkward position since Nutter was much bigger and heavier than he was. Nutter chuckled, and his massive muscles writhed in front of Avery’s face. “Ramon was not that short.”
“It sounds like you really cared about him,” Avery said as he wedged his dick in.
“Her!” He barked so angrily Avery didn’t understand what he said at first. Then Nutter said, “Ramon was my bitch. I let her do things to me cuz I loved her, and I needed a tangible expression of my love.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Avery said. “Her. Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, man, get goin’,” he said. “Come on, hurry up.”
Avery nodded and started to work his dick in. It felt like Nutter hadn’t taken any dick in a long time. His asshole was so tight Avery wasn’t sure this would work. But he squeezed on more lube and slowly got his dick in there, inch by inch.
Soon Avery was all the way in his ass, which squeezed and clenched around his cock. He moaned as little sparks of pleasure erupted in his manhood, and it throbbed in Nutter’s tight guts. Avery topped so rarely that he felt weird doing it now, especially in this awkward position.
But Nutter appeared to only be willing to do it like this. He kneeled in front of the bed as though he was going to start praying. His gold and platinum chains dangled around his neck, and his muscles all tensed as he struggled to accept Avery’s dick.
“You gotta relax,” Avery said when Nutter’s tight body started making it difficult for Avery to keep plowing him.
Nutter took a deep breath. He wrenched his body and gasped. Avery couldn’t tell if he was in pain or pleasure or both, but Nutter writhed. He leapt up and onto the bed so fast he dragged Avery with him.
And then Avery was literally on his back, supported entirely by Nutter’s spasming muscles. Since he had no leverage, it was all Avery could do to hold onto Nutter’s shoulders like a rodeo-rider on a rampaging bull. Avery’s body was wracked by intense sensations, which made him moan and groan, the sound of which was swallowed up by Nutter’s back.
“I would give you a reacharound,” Avery said breathlessly. His hands tried to grope around Nutter’s body, but Avery’s arms were much too short. He could barely finger Nutter’s erect, precum-leaking cock. “But I can’t reach.”
“Ramon always gave a reacharound,” Nutter muttered. “She loved me. Like a good bitch.” He took another deep breath and winced as Avery started to move his hips in a circle. That reawakened the bliss coursing through Avery’s veins.
Since Avery just laid on Nutter’s back and ass for now, he couldn’t plow. He just swayed, moving his dick around in Nutter’s ass as Nutter slowly grew comfortable with it. Nutter’s back muscles writhed, his tattoos gleaming with the sweat that collected there.
Eventually it felt like Nutter had grown used to Avery’s dick in his ass. Avery massaged his back and licked up the salty beads of sweat that dappled his flesh. Nutter moaned, his hostility gone now. Avery was able to slowly grind his dick in and out, every centimeter’s worth of motion wracking both men’s bodies with spasms and shocks of pleasure.
“Yeah, stick it in me, whiteboy,” he said. “You got a bigger dick than Ramon. It hurts more. But it feels good more too.” He chuckled but cut off his laughter when the movement made the pain worse.
Avery smiled. “Yeah. I got a big dick. Not as big as yours,” he said. He wasn’t sure that was strictly true, but he saw the wisdom in pumping up Nutter’s pride. Nutter did straighten his back out when he heard that.
Then Nutter’s cell phone rang. He roared in frustration, reached down to his pants and pulled out the cell phone. “Keep it down, whiteboy,” he said. His movement made his asshole squeeze around Avery’s cock. “I gotta take this. You might hear me get real.”
“Oh. Okay,” Avery said, too overwhelmed by passion to think about what that might mean.
“What?” Nutter said by way of greeting into the phone. “Uh-huh. No. No. No. No. No! You know my answer, Coolie. You pay me tomorrow.” He groaned into the phone. “Shut up, bitch. I’m fuckin’ a female in the ass. You wanna hear her croon?” He held up the phone to Avery, who was startled. He let out a feminine oah, ooh! “You hear that, Coolie? I just might hear you making that sound if you don’t pay me — well, it ain’t that hard, motherfucker. Just charge the shitmunchers more to make up for it. If you was a real hustler, you could it, nigga! Lil Bee do it. Rakhim Shockley do it. Wink do it. Nailboy do it,” he said. His face was red and screwed up, his anger at Coolie mixing with the intensity of being rammed in his sensitive ass. He roared into the phone. “You can do it too. Nailboy is straight up retarded, you fuckin’ bitch-ass nigga, you sell that shit and pay me tomorrow, or I will get the money outta yo’ ass!” By the time he hung up, Nutter was screaming so loud it made the light fixtures rattle. Avery was sure people in other rooms could hear that. His shouting made his asshole squeeze, sending shoots of pleasure through Avery’s body.
Avery was perfectly motionless, focusing on not orgasming despite Nutter’s massaging his dick. He was terrified of the argument — he had seen enough movies to worry that a driveby was coming next. But Nutter didn’t seem upset about it.
“Sorry ya had to hear me act like that,” Nutter said, his voice tense and clipped, Avery’s cock throbbing in his ass. “I know street talk makes white folk uncomfortable.” He sniffled. “Now get back to business.”
“Okay, yeah, sure, okay,” Avery said. “Cool. Fine.” He took a deep breath to stop himself from babbling again.
He took his dick all the way out, then pushed it back in with a loud sigh. He got up on his knees, while Nutter remained laying on his belly on the bed, one hand underneath himself jacking his own manhood.
That gave Avery leverage. He worked his dick in and out, and they both moaned in harmony with each other. Nutter had a deep, baritone voice that resonated in the rickety motel, while Avery’s flamboyant lilt gave the sound a musical air.
Avery was short enough and Nutter’s body was thick enough that Avery could plow his plump, bubbling cheeks while Avery kneeled behind him and Nutter laid on his belly. Avery just rocked his body forward, slipping his dick all the way in and most of the way out.
One of Avery’s hands gripped the bed beneath him, while the other kneaded the thick meaty slab of flesh over Nutter’s shoulder. Nutter moaned loudly. Each thrust of Avery’s hips brought both men closer to their climaxes.
His asshole clenched, and the smell of cum filled the air. Avery moaned as well, as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He felt the most incredible sensation of his life bursting deep within his body. His muscles all tightened.
The feeling of Nutter’s orgasm was palpable in the squeezing of his asshole and his muscles writhing in Avery’s delicate fingers. Nutter spurted a massive load into his hand and onto the bedspread. It soaked into the fabric there and filled the air with its cottony-sour scent. Nutter inhaled deeply of the aroma, while the first drops of cum filled up Nutter’s ass and landed on his sensitive prostate.
For a moment, Avery felt as strong as Nutter was — it was ridiculous, of course, since Nutter was easily twice Avery’s size. Avery pounded on his chest and roared, the sound drowned out by Nutter’s much deeper, louder grunting.
Cum sprayed into Nutter’s ass. It was a huge load, bigger than any Avery had ever shot. He just kneeled there motionless, using Nutter’s muscular back for support. He threw his head back and moaned his eyes, his girlish moan filling the air as wad after wad of jizz flooded Nutter’s ass.
Finally Avery was done. But his orgasm continued, in great waves as he felt Nutter’s muscles contract and flex beneath him. His cum filled up Nutter’s body and dripped out, further soaking the motel’s bedspread.
“God damn,” Nutter said with an exhausted moan. “You like that, whiteboy?”
“Hell yeah…” Avery said as he pulled out his limpening manhood. He took a deep breath. He was suddenly dizzy, overwhelmed by both fear and desire — he had visions of that Coolie person who had been on the phone coming by to fight with Nutter. Avery leaned down and kissed each of Nutter’s cheeks, which trembled beneath his lips.
“Clean up my ass now, bitch,” Nutter barked. Avery grabbed the tissues of the nightstand. He cleaned up Nutter’s ass, where creamy white cum flowed out of it.
Then Nutter stood and stretched his legs. He avoided eye contact with Avery as he got dressed.
“Thanks,” Avery said.
“Thank Slim Jay,” Nutter said. He shrugged. “If anyone asks, you was in here beggin’ me fo’ some free crack. I made you jerk me off and then I still ain’t give you none.”
“Uh… okay,” Avery said. He sat back on the bed. He had no intention of telling anyone that, but he wasn’t going to tell Nutter no.
When Nutter was dressed, he sneered at Avery’s naked body. “You skinny as shit,” he said. “You gotta get bigger.” He relit the blunt he had placed in the ashtray before. He took a deep breath and glanced out the window. “Aw, fuck, there’s that Coolie nigga. I’m-a go beat his ass. Have a good time, y’know, wit’ whatevuh whiteboys do.”
He left before Avery could answer. Avery crept forward to the window, where he watched Nutter stride out into the street. He confronted a trashy-looking, low-class thug, and they argued but soon walked away from the well-lit motel parking lot.
Avery got dressed and stepped out. By then, Jinky and the other groomsmen were finishing up with their prostitutes as well. Slim Jay smiled when Avery came out of the hotel room and met up with the others.
“You have fun, man?” he asked.
Avery nodded.
“Fo’ real?” Slim Jay asked, and in the way he raised his eyebrow, it seemed Slim Jay knew what had happened in here. He knew that Nutter had bottomed, and he knew that Avery wasn’t supposed to reveal that.
“Yeah,” Avery said with a smile. “I jerked him off, y’know. He’s an alpha male, a real gangsta. He throated me down hard. I, uh… I couldn’t take it. He’s too hardcore for me.”

The Volleyball Player

Rob isn’t interested in volleyball, until he overhears that one hunky player is in need of a few dollars. That’s something Rob can provide, in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!

Can Rob satisfy this volleyball jock’s carnal desires?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob happily munched on a taco, sitting on a bench near the beach. He watched the sorority girls splash each other. The sun shone brightly, and it lay a blanket of heat upon the beach. He hoped it wouldn’t dissuade the men from coming out, and indeed, the women soon proved an irresistible siren. This splendorous slice of California beach always attracted more women than men. That’s because there were three university campuses nearby, and all three were mostly women.
By eleven o’clock, sun-tanned young men were gathering in dribs and drags, and they made eyes at the girls, who made eyes back at them, and then mostly nothing happened, but it was cute to watch. Rob was a little old for this stuff. They probably saw him as “the old guy over there”. Luckily, there were a few older guys — like really old — so Rob didn’t come across that old.
One of them shot Rob a look like he was a creep. He was a bit young and slim for Rob’s taste, with a face like an overgrown infant, but Rob might have made an offer to him anyway. But Rob soon became entranced by a developing drama. That babyfaced fratboy seemed to have a crush on one girl who wanted nothing to do with him, while a different, somewhat thicker girl was all over him.
There was also a handsome dark-skinned man with long messy hair. Was he Brazilian? Rob overheard an accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. The man had a perfect six-pack, which Rob adored. He was a great admirer of the male form.
But the Brazilian man — if that was indeed what he was — did not look like a good prospect. He flashed a wad of cash when talking to a girl. A handsome man with cash and a girl already swooning over him was not likely to be willing to let Rob swing on his meat for a few dollars. That’s what he was hoping to find today on San Guapo Beach.
Rob was patient. He didn’t mind waiting. He loved beaches. He would gladly spend all day, or even multiple days, hanging out and waiting for a desperate man who might let him take a swing on their meat.
As the day wore on, San Guapo filled with college kids on spring break, including plenty of hefty, tanned and muscled young men who needed beer money and a ride home. Girls were too drunk to fuck most of the time, so the boys were frustrated and horny. It was prime hunting grounds for Rob.
He decided to go back to his hotel a little before noon. This part of the beach was filling up with family-types — women in one-piece bathing suits, carrying babies, and balding gray-haired men with paunchy bellies — so Rob left. Once the evening came he figured he’d be able to go back out, the beach would be crawling with young studs once again.
For now though, he was at a loss for what to do.
There was a crowd of people near the hotel’s part of the beach. Rob was interested and went closer — he didn’t normally hang out at the hotel’s bit of beach because his experience suggested those were the most scrubbed-clean, unexciting and banal beaches of all. It was impossible to do anything fun with corporate security goons on the lookout everywhere.
The Top Inn Hotel staff was here, Rob could see them scattered about, looking terrified of the crowd they had created. But the onlookers weren’t focused on anything but the match:
Volleyball.
It was a volleyball game. It was important enough for ESPN2 to be there filming. Now that Rob saw that, he recalled having seen a sign in the hotel to that effect. Was this a pro volleyball match? Was pro volleyball even a thing? He had no idea. Maybe Olympics qualifying or something.
Rob pushed into the crowd to watch. There were two teams of six playing. One was clearly the “away-team” — they were either Australian or New Zealander, judging from the flags on their shorts. The other were presumably locals, or at least American.
With some graceful shoving and sliding through the crowd, Rob got to the front, close enough that he could see the action and hear the grunts of the players when they struck the ball.
But he got to the front of the crowd only moments before the match was over. He had little interest in volleyball itself, so he didn’t much care about missing the game.
What he was sorry he missed was the guys — especially one guy in particular.
He was on the US team. He was tall and broad-shouldered, built like a jolly truck, with a hefty frame and a perfect six-pack. He was long-legged and long-armed, and he wore only short black shorts that extended just a few inches onto his thighs. Rob could tell his shorts were so short he had shaved the top of his pubic hair or it would have poked out above the elastic.
That volleyball player had a physique that Rob ached to admire. He wanted to taste his sweat-dappled shoulders so bad it hurt. He needed him. He wanted to suck the scruff off him. The blonde volleyballer ran his fingers through his confused blond mop of hair and said something frustrated, his words lost in the thrum and clamor of the dissipating crowd — his team had lost, and it seemed he and his teammates were upset with each other. They good-naturedly smiled for the ESPN2 cameras and shook their opponents’s hands, but they didn’t like it. Rob could sense it in them.
Rob milled about. He wanted that volleyball player. The man was obviously handsome enough to get a girl if he wanted it, but he seemed depressed. The women flocked to the winning team from down under — not only had they won, they had adorable accents. And Rob had to admit, they also had physiques he could get down with.
But they were not for Rob, he had eyes only for his beloved blond buck. He just needed to find a way to get him. Rob bought a bottle of water and drank it as though it was an important activity he couldn’t leave and do, so nobody noticed he was milling around for no reason. He waited for the herd to thin, and the cameras went into a van parked at the hotel. The excitement, such as it was, disappeared.
The argument between the blond and his teammates erupted out in the parking lot. Rob had casually walked out that way when they did. He didn’t catch the beginning of the argument, but he saw it end.
“I told you that wouldn’t work! Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Now we’re out ten grand-“
“Oh please, he was twenty minutes late, we nearly forfeited-“
“Maybe you ought to show up to practice once in a while!”
“Hey fuck you, none of this was my fault!”
“I’m the team captain, and I said we should-“
“Then it’s your fault!”
As they argued, they climbed into a jeep. At first Rob thought they were all going to squeeze into one soft-top jeep (with the soft-top removed, so there was plenty of room, more or less). It looked that way. But then just four of them slipped into that jeep, leaving two behind to continue arguing as though they didn’t notice the foursome in the keep was leaving without them.
“I told you that I had the better strategy-“
“But you never showed up to practice to tell us about it!”
“Oh come on, I skipped like two practices!”
“Yeah, but they were last week. You were out of practice today. You cost us that match, Hark!”
“Don’t you make accusations, you little pisshole, you served the ball like a goddamn cripple that one time-!”
“I made one error the whole game!” That blond — Hark was his name, it seemed — threw his hands in the air. He was the handsome blond with a bashful tangle of hair and a perfect body. Rob was entranced by the beads of sweat clinging to the pit in the small of his back — there were presumably fine little hairs there collecting the sweat — Rob knew most men had that, but he couldn’t see them because Hark was blond and his skin there was light — and he wanted to suck up every salty droplet. Hark’s shorts had slipped a bit as he walked to the parking lot, so the top of his asscrack was visible. He had big plump cheeks that Rob wanted to put his face between and blow. His asscheeks were pale as porcelain, but his shoulders and his face were browned by the sun.
“Well it cost us ten grand!” the other guy said. He threw his hands in the air. “I’m walking back!” he snapped, as though he had any other choice. The jeep had gone.
Hark stood there watching him go. He put his hands on his hips and ran his fingers through his hair. He scowled, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He forced an awkward smile on his face. Then he turned around and nearly ran into a complete stranger: Rob.
“Ah! Hey. Hi,” Hark said with a grunt. He was normally charming and outgoing, but it was hard to restart himself after that fight with his friends. It took him a moment to switch gears. He had a naturally jolly face when it wasn’t tense with frustration.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m cool,” Hark said. He shrugged. “I just… Things didn’t turn out how they were supposed to.” He added, “Obviously”, because he assumed Rob was a fan and was as disappointed as he was that his team lost.
“You poor baby… you wanna tell me about it?”
Hark looked at him suspiciously. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Rob Winthrop,” he said. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’ve got some weed. I’m not very good at rolling joints, but if you can roll one up for me-“
“Okay,” he said flatly. Then he blushed. “I mean… yeah, cool. I can roll joints. And I haven’t smoked in awhile cuz I was preparing for this match. Some good that did me.”
“I saw your match. You were really good,” Rob said. He didn’t mention that he watched about thirty seconds of it. “What was that fight all about?”
Rob of course didn’t really care. He was just making conversation. Hark explained to him all about the team’s conflicts as they walked back to the hotel, and Rob listened the best he could manage given the dullness of the subject. He had literally nothing to offer to a conversation on volleyball strategy and training regiments. Once Hark — Keith Harkness was his name, Hark to his friends — once Hark got into talking about it, his natural charm took over, and he forgot that this was a kind of weird experience — running into a random man and going back to his hotel room to smoke weed.
The smoking weed part was pretty normal for Hark. The rest of it was odd.
This wasn’t the first time Hark had met some fans he didn’t know and gone somewhere with them. It was weird that Rob was just one person and that he brought Hark back to his hotel room. Hark thought that was odd. But not bad, after all, and he really did want to smoke a joint. That would relax him after that disappointing match and the fight with his teammates. Later, after it was all over, he was stoned enough to get paranoid and wonder what would have happened if Rob was an axe murderer. But that did not occur to him until long after it didn’t happen.
“Man, volleyball used to be fun,” Hark said as they got to the room and Rob unlocked the door. Hark sighed. “I started playing volleyball when baseball got too serious in high school. People would get in fights about it and shit, Coach Shithead yelling at me. I just wanted to lay back and toss the ball around with my buddies, broh.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. He shut the door once Hark was inside.
“But now volleyball is all about making it to practice every day no matter what, and my girlfriend dumped me because I went to this match instead of her niece’s christening… it was complicated, but she’s got like, eight sisters, y’know, I can’t go to all their stupid shit. That’s like… all the time, y’know? They have so many kids — christenings like every week! I don’t have time for that! I went to her cousin’s friend’s baby shower! I didn’t get any credit for it because she got in a fight with her friend.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said, rolling his eyes. “The weed’s in this box.”
“Hell yeah.” Hark’s emotions dwindled once he saw the weed and had a task to complete. He didn’t even just roll one joint. He was stuck on auto-pilot, so once he started, he rolled the entire eighth of an ounce into small joints. He was an expert joint-roller, despite his big sausage-like fingers.
Rob could actually roll great joints. He had only asked Hark to do it to get him in the hotel room. In fact, two joints Rob had rolled last night were sitting in the box. Hark didn’t notice them or realize it suggested Rob was lying about being unable to roll joints.
As Hark worked on the joints, Rob cleared his throat. “So… were you counting on the money from that match?”
Hark nodded. “I kinda need it. I bought this jet-ski last month, and uh… the salesman misled me about the monthly bill.” He blushed. “I mean… It was complicated. There’s fees and like… percents.”
“Oh, you poor baby,” Rob said. He patted Hark on the bare meat of his shoulder. It was firm and warm from the sunlight and moist from his sweat. “I could help.”
“What?”
“If you ram me in the ass and you make me feel good like I know you can,” Rob said, “I’ll give you two grand. I know that’s not as much as you were gonna make-“
“That’s more than I was gonna get it from it. We had six guys and ten grand, I was getting less than two grand out of it,” Hark blurted out. He bit his lip and shifted his weight uncomfortably, like he wished he hadn’t said that so eagerly. “Plus there’s taxes, I mean… you’ll be giving me cash, right?”
“Right. No taxes at all. So this is a lot more than you’d be getting if you had won.”
Hark laughed again, a nervous quaver in his voice. “That’s weird, broh.”
“I know,” Rob said. “I’ll jerk you off so good. I bet I do it better than any woman you’ve been with. I have a nice tight ass too.”
“Really?” Hark laughed. “I mean…” He blushed. “I guess… Yeah… That’s cool.”
Rob didn’t want to dawdle. He immediately pulled Hark’s shorts down — Hark had to lift his ass to give Rob easy access to his crotch — and bared his dick. He didn’t wear any underwear under those shorts. Rob had guessed as much seeing his cock and balls flop around when he had jumped and run across the volleyball court.
But it was nice to see it in person. He had a big meaty dick just like his body, all thick and girthy and strong, pale like his skin. His pubic hair was deep black though.
Hark sucked in his breath and held it in. His cheeks blushed a deep ruddy tone that made Rob laugh quietly. Hark held an unlit joint in his hand as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, shorts down, looking like he expected to get smacked in the balls any moment now. He was ready to wince.
“Relax, Hark…” Rob said. He made his voice as feminine as possible to put Hark at ease. Then he lowered his head and kissed the tip of his dick.
It tasted like the beach, like flesh after sitting in the sun for hours. It radiated warmth, and the flavor of salty sand hit Rob’s tongue, as did the years of muscle-memory and strategy from Hark’s volleyball career. His hands roamed up Hark’s broad chest, while his mouth opened to swallow the tip of his manhood.
“Ah, oh…” Hark grunted like he had thought this would be painful and was surprised it wasn’t. He opened his eyes just in time to see Rob deep-throat him to the root.
A gasp escaped from Hark’s lips. He lifted his ass up off the bedspread, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. He was exhilarated suddenly, his anxiety vanishing in the face of the intense pleasure that rocketed through him.
He had been hornier than he thought. He was so upset about the match and nervous about being on TV, angry at his teammates and anxious at the situation with Rob that he hadn’t really given much thought to how this would feel. He had thought it was something he would just get over because he needed the money. It would be like mopping a floor — not pleasant by any means, but not the worst way to make a few dollars, and once you got started, you could just put on some Jimmy Buffett and think about something else.
That was what he did now. He put Jimmy Buffett on his cell phone, the tinny speakers filling the air and overpowering the sound of the dome. Hark had trouble concentrating after a few seconds because it felt so good. His hands shook with his cell phone hovering above his body before he could gain enough focus to get the music started.
The lit joint fell loose on the bed, both Hark and Rob having forgotten about it.
His dick rocketed to full erection in Rob’s mouth as Rob slammed his own head down deeply. His nose nuzzled the silky pubic hair of Hark’s crotch, while his hands reached up to tweak both nipples at once. Hark had big hefty pecs — Rob had been mesmerized watching them bounce when he jumped during the game, and now they bounced because they flexed under his fingertips.
“Goddamn!” Hark threw his head back and breathed through his gritted teeth. He laughed. “I never had dome like this.” He peered down at Rob, who greedily, moistly suckled on his dick as though trying to remove it. He slurped on it so hard it almost hurt, and Hark laughed harder to cover up his nervousness.
The sour and salty taste of precum hit Rob’s tongue. He guzzled it all down, making eye contact with Hark’s surprised face. The moist sounds of Rob gurgling on precum were loud enough to overpower the sound of Jimmy Buffett singing about the last mango in Paris.
“Are you ready to stick it in me? I wanna feel you inside me,” Rob said. He grinned and stood. Precum flowed freely down the shaft of Hark’s dick even though Rob wasn’t touching it now.
Hark clapped his hands, eyes giddy and heart beating. He’d never actually had anal sex — his dick was too big for any of his girlfriends to do that. He’d always wanted to try it though.
Rob rubbed lube into his own ass and bent over. He was going to sit on Hark’s lap, but Hark stood — he thought it seemed more manly to bend Rob over the bed so Hark could be on top.
“Ah, man…” Hark laughed again, as he always did when he was nervous. His cock throbbed. Precum dripped down his shaft. He ran his fingers through his tangled blond mop again, then watched Rob spread his cheeks. His tight dark hole winked, beckoning. Hark gulped. Was he really going to do this? Would he tell people about it? If not, he’d have to pretend he was still in need of money to pay for the jet ski.
Hark took a deep breath and slipped his dick in, just the tip at first. He felt resistance and stopped. He bit his lip. A bit more slid into Rob’s ass, which was well-lubed enough it felt like a trap, like quicksand and once Hark’s dick touched it, it was slowly sucked in more and more.
It was awkward, weird, his asscheeks strangely cold. It didn’t feel good at all at first — it wasn’t painful, it just didn’t feel like anything. Hark wondered if he was going to have to stop this.
And then a wave of pleasure hit him. He had been so nervous it didn’t happen right away. Once it did, however, it felt better than he thought possible. It was way better than being with a woman, he realized, because there was less pressure — he was so sure that Rob wanted him badly that it didn’t matter if Hark didn’t do it that good, or did it for too long or too short a time, or if his dick was too big, small, skinny or thick. He could just go with all his might without worrying about any of that.
He gripped Rob’s asscheeks and forced his dick in until his balls slapped against Rob’s flesh. A surge of sensations hit Hark, whose smile turned to an intense grimace. He let out a long low howl that was audible outside the hotel room.
Rob used one hand to jack himself off, while his other tightened into a claw that dug into the bedspread beneath himself. He panted, the potent feelings that coursed through his veins growing with each thrust of Hark’s dick into him.
“Oh god, shit, yeah, broh,” Hark cried out. He realized he was being loud — he had a deep voice so it carried well, it was difficult for him to say anything very quietly — but he couldn’t help it. It felt so good it was like losing his virginity all over again.
He sprayed a massive wad into Rob’s ass, great creamy wads of it coating Rob’s insides and seeping into him. Hark’s heavy balls crawled up in his sac, and still more sticky cum flowed into Rob.
Rob shot his own wad too, into his palm and on the mattress beneath him. But he stayed there, letting his ass get it hard over and over. Hark didn’t stop even when he was done. He kept moved his dick around as it limpened, turning all the creamy cum in Rob’s ass into a big wad of foamy juices that soaked onto the sheets.
“Damn…” Rob howled as loud as he could — which wasn’t very loud. When Hark’s dick finally plopped out, Rob sighed and shuddered. His exquisitely sensitive ass was so potent it hurt and he couldn’t breathe; it was all he could do to experience the climax rocketing around inside him.
Then, Rob collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. He looked up at Hark’s ruddy body. “You wanna lay with me for awhile? The cash is in my pants pocket.”
Hark didn’t respond for a long time. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to decide what to do — should he leave or stay to cuddle? Should he do it again? If so, should he demand more money? He found the cash in Rob’s pocket, but still wasn’t sure.
Then he saw that tender ass, plump and bare and ready for him to go again. “Aw, hell,” Hark said. He climbed into bed and lay next to him. “I guess I could give you your money’s worth.” He placed his arms behind his head, accentuating his chest muscles and baring his armpits. He looked surprised to see Rob smile and suck on his nipples. Rob licked his chest and his neck. Hark sighed. “Thanks, man.” He found the joint he had dropped earlier, which singed the pillow, and he puffed on it.
“No, thank you,” Rob said. For now, he thought, he was right where he wanted to be. He had found the kind of man he was hoping to find when he came to California.

The Cholo

Anthony works for a cartel but only in a technical capacity. He’s not a cholo himself, but he does wind up spending the night in a hotel room with one! That means Anthony is in for a night he’ll never remember, as this alpha male ex-con craves a tender touch that Anthony is eager to provide…

Can Anthony handle his bedmate’s unbridled machismo?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Anthony was glad to be treated like a real Latin Kings cholo now, not just a hanger-on of his brother — his brother Chuy was a high-ranking Latin King. But nowadays, he was helping the cartel’s front business with its computer system, so maybe he was a high-ranking Latin King too. Or at least a ranking one. Computer geeks weren’t really a part of the normal promotion system.
But he had a reputation as a good, loyal soldier of sorts. He was as much a bona fide cartel member as any of the other cholos and vatos could be. They showed him respect, and the lower on the totem pole they were, the more respect they showed, cuz they didn’t know who he was or how important his job was.
It was that reputation as a loyal worker that got him into the security detail for a wedding near the end of the year. Anthony didn’t know any of the people getting married — it was some bigwig señor’s daughter, who married a cholo from the cartel — but he was assigned to security for the event. Mainly, they wanted him to manage the wifi and the cybersecurity for the wedding, since they were quite sure that the law enforcement agencies of at least two countries would have undercover operatives there.
That was why Anthony was at the wedding of two strangers, dressed awkwardly in an ill-fitting suit, alongside a macho named Tejón, a muscle-bound, scar-faced cholo who made Anthony’s whole body quake with both fear and desire. Neither he nor Anthony had a tailored suit like the upper-class cartel leaders who filled the church’s pews.
Tejón was terrifying, to Anthony at least. To everybody else he was invisible. Anthony held his breath whenever Tejón was around — which was pretty much all the time, since he was guarding Anthony.
Before the actual service, Anthony did another quick last-minute review of the wifi and the server for the house.
He found an anomaly on the server. It was impossible to know for sure if it was just a faulty setting on the device, or if it was a relic of some sort of tap-and-trace software that had been installed. It was impossible to keep a wedding like this low-key — the bride’s main desire was for it to be big and public and highly visible — so the guests had all been told to use only their clean, crime-free cell phones. Most people hadn’t even brought one, which Anthony thought was probably wise.
Could have been the FBI trying to get a tracking signal from somebody’s phone. Could have bene another cartel, or the Chinese the Latin Kings did business with.
Anthony worked alongside the other security guys, all of whom were big tough ex-con cholos like Tejón. Most of them did prison time, and Anthony assumed Tejón did too. Those tattoos didn’t look professionally done. Anthony was a thin, reedy man, so he didn’t fit in with them. He looked out of place, and he felt even more out of place than he looked.
Luckily the rest of the wedding went off without a hitch. For a moment it looked like the bride might not show up, and Anthony wondered if this wedding was about to turn bloody, because the groom was getting angry.
But then at last the bride-to-be appeared. She looked radiant in her dress, which was more revealing than Anthony had thought any wedding dress could ever be. Her tits barely fit in it. She looked like the world’s most expensive prostitute, which he strongly suspected was the case. Or at least, she wanted everyone to think she was.
The wedding was over as quickly as it had begun. Anthony watched from the patio, but he couldn’t hear any of the words. It seemed like such a huge production, Anthony thought, for a ceremony that lasted about a minute. It didn’t even mean anything legally. All that mattered was the signing of the marriage certificate afterward. There was no officiant at this wedding, because they didn’t want to invite any outsiders like a priest. The bride and groom just signed the marriage certificate a couple days later with their priest. It was all just a big pointless formality, with the side benefit of it being a great way for the FBI to nab someone.
But Anthony didn’t explain his cynicism to any of the attendees, and he certainly didn’t say anything to Tejón, who glowered and flexed and scowled throughout the ceremony.
As the guests filed off for the reception, Anthony and Tejón headed for the hotel. Their shift was finally done. Anthony wasn’t too happy about sharing a hotel room with Tejón, who was a glowering, bullet-scarred, bull-faced man with a gruff demeanor and seemingly no ability to experience joy. He had shown no emotion during the ceremony. He looked like a cyborg carefully decorated to look like a cholo, Anthony thought.
But there was something alluring about him too. Anthony had changed into his suit with him in the bathroom and seen his powerhouse body then. Anthony only snuck a few peeks at him though. He’d never try anything. Who knows how a freak like Tejón would react?
Anthony was glad he had made it through without offending any of the cartel bosses or having to actually use the gun strapped to his waist. He had a lot less experience with violence than he had let on when he joined the Latin Kings, and he didn’t want that to become obvious in a firefight in front of everyone important. It wasn’t even what he had been hired for — he was just a computer guy — but they had insisted everyone on the security team be armed.
Now he had acquitted himself well, and so far as he could tell, nothing had gone wrong during the wedding. He was beginning to feel like a real gangsta, like he was just like everyone else in the organization. They had treated him like an outsider at the beginning of the day, but by the time the wedding was over, they treated him like one of their own.
The hotel was sumptuous and well-furnished, easily the fanciest hotel Anthony had ever stayed in. The Latin Kings rented rooms for the security guys, and Anthony couldn’t wait to get in the room and relax. He had been up since before dawn this morning, when he and Tejón had inspected the hall for listening devices.
He was so tired now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping through his veins that he didn’t realize until he and Tejón walked into their room that they had only been given a single one-bed hotel room. Tejón apparently saw that as normal and expected, but Anthony did not. He wasn’t sure if he should ask about it or if that would make him look weak.
“One bed,” Anthony murmured softly, to himself, not intending Tejón to hear.
Tejón nodded. “They do that, esé. They don’t think security needs separate beds,” he said, and he clucked his tongue. He shrugged. “It is like prison.” He licked his teeth.
“Oh. Yeah.” That did not make it better for Anthony.
“You scared to share a bed, hombre?” Tejón asked with a sneer. He took off his shirt and shoes, getting ready for a shower. He laughed at Anthony’s lack of comfort with the situation. “You prolly enjoy cuddlin’ wit’ me like a female. You look like the type. Flouncy.”
Anthony shrugged. “Whatever, esé. We’ll see if you can keep your hands off me.” He blushed. He was flouncy, he couldn’t be too upset that Tejón noticed it.
But he didn’t like to get called out like that. In any case, the broad, dark gold muscles of Tejón’s chest attracted Anthony’s gaze, and he didn’t think to look away Tejón saw him staring. His skin was marked with scars and those prison tats. He was what they might call a bugablack — very dark skin, but maybe not quite a full negro by Spanish-speaking standards. Too dark to be a mestizo though.
Tejón scoffed. He dropped his pants and boxers. He flopped his uncut cock between his finger and wiped sweat off his barrel-shaped chest, which was so thick that he overheated easily, especially underneath the suit he had been forced to wear all day. He sighed, glad to be naked finally, and headed into the shower. His powerful asscheeks jiggled up and down with each step.
Not wanting to look like he was scared of Tejón, Anthony hurried back to the room before Tejón was done with his shower. He got naked himself, so he could shower next, and he didn’t want to seem uncomfortable being naked in front of Tejón.
Cholos were like that. He’d seen it around the compound. Once there were no women around…
Well, as an avid admirer of the male physique, Anthony got quite an eyeful on many occasions at the compound. Sometimes a mouthful and often an assful too. He enjoyed visiting the compound.
Tejón came out of the bathroom on his cell phone, trying to convince his girlfriend to give him permission to fuck a whore — there were plenty hanging around the hotel. It did not sound like she was entertaining the possibility. He shouted at her in rapid-fire Spanish. Anthony caught just enough of it to understand the gist of the conversation.
Anthony frowned. The one exciting part of this wedding for Anthony, he thought, was that he thought he was going to get lots of hot cholo meat. It turned out that most of the guys working this wedding had duties nearly the entire weekend, so that wasn’t likely to happen. They were almost all here with their wives anyway. As Tejón finished his hushed conversation with his wife, Anthony headed into the bathroom for his own shower. It was warm and relaxing, and Anthony felt refreshed when he came out.
By the time Anthony was done showering, the sun was going down, and Tejón sat, still naked, on the edge of the bed, watching TV. He flipped aimlessly between the channels as Anthony dried off. He wanted to put shorts on, but he didn’t want to look more self-conscious than Tejón.
But then Anthony had been surprised by the cartel before. One of the other big machos he used to work with revealed that, when he and some buddies had been locked up, they drew straws to see which one of them had to be a bottom, and it had been him. He’d been rammed a couple times a day for most of a year before they were all released. It was widely considered okay or only mildly shameful, as long as he wasn’t pimped out to other prisoners. No one considered it such a big deal.
A punk is a man who gets bitched out to other prisoners. It was shameful to be a punk. Any other role was fine.
As the evening progress, Anthony noticed several times that Tejón snuck glances of Anthony’s smooth ass and pale thighs. Anthony wondered if Tejón’s penetrating glances were a prelude to something. He was so very naked, his big brutish body gleaming, exuding body heat that Anthony both craved and feared. Anthony was naked too, of course, but only because Tejón was first. Anthony was pale and small and thin, and he looked tiny next to Tejón, who took up most of the hotel room, it seemed like.
In the end, nothing happened that evening. Once they were both naked and watching TV, Anthony got less and less nervous. He began to think that Tejón must be naked by default — he was from Latin America, where it was very hot, so maybe he was used to being naked at home, Anthony thought. He and Tejón talked about the wedding, and Tejón complained about his girlfriend’s constant text-message nagging and her refusal to entertain the ‘fuck-a-whore’ proposition Tejón came up with. Tejón earnestly explained that it didn’t count if you were in a different country. Women have a different view of that kind of thing, which Anthony tried to explain. Tejón wanted a reason cheating didn’t count. Women want a man who wants to prove how expansive his definition of cheating is as proof of his devotion to her.
It was all anticlimactic, Anthony thought as he drifted off to sleep. He had been half-expecting the wedding to be interrupted by a hail of gunfire. If this was a movie, something would have happened. The Latin Kings had been dead set on the wedding would go off without a hitch, and they hired the professionals who could make it happen.
He and Tejón were both stark naked, sleeping on top of the covers at first. Anthony instinctually crawled under the blankets around midnight, where Tejón’s body heat was already warming things up. The air outside had gotten quite cold by then, and the air-conditioning was still on, so the inside of the hotel room became ice cold.
Anthony dreamed of a beautiful boy caressing his body. He spooned him from behind and nuzzled the back of his neck. He even fingered his ass and lower back. The warmth radiating off Tejón’s body was enveloping like a blanket, with a hot and spicy scent that made Anthony’s heart race even in his sleep.
In his dreams, Anthony moaned as that beautiful young man, a blond god, some sort of ski instructor, kissed a trail up his spine, fingers teasing Anthony’s sensitive asshole. Anthony squirmed and cried out with desire.
This smooth blond hunk, Anthony realized, was hairy. His chest was smooth but Anthony felt body hair. How did that happen?
He realized with a start that he wasn’t dreaming. It was Tejón’s hairy tattooed cholo body, grinding on Anthony from the side. His hot breath condensing on Anthony’s skin. His hard cock rubbed against Anthony’s thighs and asscheek. Tejón had woken up some time ago and was working himself into a full-fledged erection.
Or maybe he was not entirely awake. His voice sounded blearly, half-asleep, almost drunk, though he wasn’t drinking — the Latin Kings had forbidden it.
“Sssh, do you want it?” Tejón murmured, his voice baritone and echoing in Anthony’s ear.
“Hmmm… Yes!” Anthony whispered as loud as he could whisper.
“I knew it. You looked at me like you was hungry, but what you didn’t know is I’m hungry too. I’m just gonna put the tip in. It will not count. Do not fear, little pale one,” Tejón said in lilting Spanish. His arms were wrapped around Anthony’s body, so if he tightened his muscles, Anthony would be in a chokehold. “If it is in the dark, it does not count. You will still be a man.”
Before Anthony could say anything, Tejón’s dick pushed into his ass. Anthony gasped for air. The pain was so intense he couldn’t bring himself to speak, or even to cry out. The only sound that came from his lips was a sort of exhausted choking cough.
Bolts of pleasure shot up from behind. Anthony squirmed, trying to get in a more comfortable position, but he was trapped under Tejón’s heft.
This had all happened so fast. Anthony was, just moments ago, asleep.
Anthony let out a begging little moan and pushed his ass back, forcing more of Tejón’s dick into his tight body. That sent shivers of pleasure that wracked Anthony’s petite frame. He burst into sweat and let out a series of spine-tingling moans of desire, as Tejón’s cock rocked every inch of his insides. His rough hands roamed over Anthony’s body, while Anthony’s own hands clawed at and massaged the meaty muscles of Tejón’s body.
“Sssh, I will give you a reacharound,” Tejón said, his voice a slumberous groan, muffled because he had covered himself up from head to toe with a blanket. Anthony was buried beneath his warm muscles. That was probably why he had ruled it out when the lights were still on. He had meant it literally when he said it wouldn’t count in the dark. Tejón would do virtually anything with a man as long as no one, not even God, could see. “That means you are my pasivo, it is okay.”
Despite Tejón’s warning, Anthony was still shocked when the older cholo’s fingers wrapped around his cockshaft. Anthony’s dick was already harder than it had ever been, throbbing painfully at just the touch of Tejón’s callused fingertips.
“Tejón…”
“Ssh, you taste so good, my darling,” Tejón whispered as he kissed Anthony on th elips, his voice tremulously baritone, as though he was desperate to get his rocks off. “I will make it feel very good, yes, esé? You are in the cartel now. You are uno narco in this organization…” He said that as though it meant Anthony was supposed to let himself get rammed — did Tejón ram all the new cholos? The more he learned about Latin Kings, the less surprised Anthony would have been by that.
“I don’t…” Anthony was confused about what Tejón was doing, but the bliss that rocked Anthony’s body made it hard to think about it, and all Anthony wanted was to finish this. He cried out and bucked, sweating now beneath the confines of the blankets and Tejón’s heavy body.
His prostate sang, sending waves of sensations to rocket through Anthony’s limbs. His fingers tightened into claws, which dug into the soft mattress of the hotel bed. He buried his face in the cool sheets as Tejón’s hot chest pounded onto his back. The pleasure exploded in Anthony’s ass and ran up his spine. He arched his back, rubbing it against the corded muscles of Tejón’s broad chest.
As Tejón’s dick began sliding in and out of Anthony’s increasingly accommodating ass, the pain gradually diminished. Each thrust converted some of the agony of his huge cock stretching his bottom open to paroxysms of pleasure that made Anthony cry out and beg for more, the sound of which was muffled by the hotel mattress. Anthony’s back arched and a few twinges of pleasure rocked his body, moving from his sensitive asshole and up his spine.
That was enough to send Anthony towards his own orgasm. He grimaced from the pain and pressure as his cockshaft pulsated in Tejón’s hand, which stroked his manhood with tenderness and care, plus plenty of spit and precum as lube — Tejón must have learned well how to lube up with minimal supplies in prison.
Anthony bit his lip to suppress his moan of pleasure at feeling a few drops of precum inside his ass. Tejón’s cock filled him up, and it seemed to grow bigger with each daggering thrust into his insides. Each one raised Anthony to new heights of pleasure.
He didn’t know how long it took then. His ass burned, roiling with intense senations too poent for him to comprehend. It was unlike any ramrodding experience Anthony had ever had, and it made him dizzy with desire. All he could do was cry out and demand more.
The agonizing pleasure in his ass didn’t go away. It actually got worse and worse as Tejón’s powerful hips slammed his cock in and out of Anthony’s ass. Every time he did it hurt worse.
But it also felt good. It felt so good that Anthony began humping his ass backward, pushing onto Tejón’s dick in sync with his gyrations. They rammed there for an amount of time that could have been a minute or it could have been a week, Anthony didn’t know except that he didn’t recall seeing the sun come up.
Eventually it was over. Anthony shot his wad all over Tejón’s hand, while he felt creamy precum spurting up his ass from behind. Huge gobs of jizz sprayed onto the bed in front of Anthony, and the smell of it bloomed like a jungle in the air freshener-scented hotel room.
The orgasm that erupted in Anthony’s ass was so potent it made Anthony shout, loud enough that he wondered if it was audible in the next room — that was inhabited by two other cartel bodyguards, who, Anthony now realized, might be messing around right now just like him and Tejón were.
He hoped so. That was nice to imagine.
Spasms of bliss rocketed up and down Anthony’s spine. He shuddered and grunted into the pillow below beneath him, as his sticky cum spurted across the hotel bedspread. He even drooled onto the pillow, unable to close his mouth because of the outrageous pangs of pleasure that wracked his body.
Anthony had never felt anything like it. He’d gotten rammed in the dark by a lot of men and even a lot of cholos with huge cocks, but nothing had ever made him feel like this, like his whole body was going to rattle into a million little pieces of pure sensation. He gasped and bit the pillow under him.
“Toma mi pene, chico, necesito llenarte con mi hombría. Voy a disparar tanto que sale por tu nariz. Vas a estar oliendo mi esperma cada vez que te tiras un pedo a partir de ahora…” Tejón spoke softly, too quickly for Anthony to make out the words with his rudimentary Spanish — he was distracted by his orgasm anyway, but he could tell Tejón was saying dirty-talk, something about sperm, Anthony heard that. He assumed it was both dirty and romantic, and whatever it was, it made Anthony shudder with desire as he finished his orgasm at last.
He pushed back with his ass when he felt the first few drops of Tejón’s cumload finally hit his ass. He could tell it was going to be big, and he giggled with anticipation — he loved it when men filled his ass with cum.
Tejón grunted in his ear. His hairy chest dragged against Anthony’s back, as he filled Anthony with his frothy cum. He kept plowing even as his dick began to get limp, humping until his wad began to drip down Anthony’s thigh and stain the bedsheets.
Anthony was right — it was a huge load. It just kept on flowing, filling Anthony up, seeping into his flesh until he could virtually taste it from his nose to his toes. He felt Tejón’s manhood suffusing through his body, until it was all he could think about. Tejón gasped just like Anthony did, in plaintive, panty tone, like he was desperate for this orgasm, which went on as long as Anthony’s did.
Creamy wad after creamy wad flew up Anthony’s behind, each one leaving a warm afterglow of sensation deep in Anthony’s body. Tejón shot huge loads, like he had built it up in prison. Or maybe that girlfriend was blueballing him. She was likely provided by the Latin Kings and often found something better to do than take dick from the harsh-eyed scarface with the battering ram for a cock.
Poor guy… Anthony thought to himself.
At last they were done. Anthony fell limp on the bed, breathing a sigh of relief when Tejón finally pulled out of him. Tejón’s sweaty muscles remained curled around Anthony’s body, however, as though he intended to cuddle Anthony to sleep.
“Uh, Tejón?”
“Sssh, just go to sleep,” Tejón said. He rubbed his limp, gooey dick over Anthony’s asscheek.
“Oh… Well…”
“Ssh, baby, my little mamacito,” Tejón mumbled. He sounded like he was nearly asleep as he curled his biceps up with Anthony’s head in the crook of his elbow. He kissed Anthony on the cheek. “Just go to sleep.”
Anthony was so satisfied he couldn’t bring himself to move away, even though he was buried in Tejón’s overly hot flesh. He didn’t want to sleep on the floor either, but that was the only other option. He was just going to have to cuddle with this tattooed beast of a man. It was still cold in the hotel room anyway. Anthony felt warm, but he figured he would soon be shivering if he weren’t in Tejón’s arms tonight.
Besides that, he felt safe and secure in Tejón’s powerful muscles, so he was satisfied as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The Alpha in a Stringer

Avery loves alpha males, which is one reason he likes the Cornerside Gym — that’s where all the toughest, biggest and strongest alphas like to work out. But Avery didn’t realize what he was in for when one studly specimen of white trash approaches him, in desperate need of some release.

That means Avery is in for some intense man-on-man action in this grimy gym’s filthy sauna! Can Avery handle his newfound alpha’s superior manhood?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers joined the Cornerside Gym of Myrtle Beach to work out. He was finding it more difficult to maintain his lean, athletic body as he got older. He just wanted to work out somewhere there were few women, and the Cornerside Gym had a reputation as being a place for boxers, MMA and crossfit guys and serious bodybuilders. Most of the personal trainers and coaches working out of there have a history of steroid trafficking arrests. It was that kind of gym.
That was not a problem for Avery, who was a great admirer of the male form. The Cornerside Gym was crawling with men whose physiques made Avery’s mouth water. On his first day working out there, he was especially interested in this one broad-and-bulky type, a literal red neck and a figurative redneck who wore sweatpants, backwards hat and a sleeveless tee marked with the logos of several college football teams. He was blond and scruffy, with a thick, bushy beard and unkempt hair, wild eyes with drunken bloodshot veins around his irises. He had a certain white trash look that made Avery’s blood boil.
But the football boy got into his own routine at the pull-up bar on the other side of the gym from Avery on the treadmill. He wasn’t visible in the mirror either. Avery entertained himself on his phone for about thirty seconds. It’s funny how phones can be endlessly distracting when you want to pay attention to something else, but when you’re on the treadmill and need a distraction, the phone is dull and uninteresting.
Avery looked around the gym again. There were a couple old guys, this one hideous steroid freak Avery tried to avoid looking at because he was kind of nauseating, a trio of twinkish Asians who combined could almost outweigh an American sushi roll, a few other sad sacks and underweight banker-types, but not many men at the moment who caught Avery’s eye. A few more men were trickling in though, as the early morning headed towards noon.
Then he saw that that one blond trashy stud with the muscles of a Navy SEAL, muscles that were barely concealed by the string-like sleeveless muscle shirt he wore. He came back around the corner from the pull-up bars because he got a phone call, to which he spoke in hushed whispers. He paced angrily up by the door, where the treadmills were, and Avery pretended to involve himself in his phone so it wasn’t obvious how interested he was in the bulky man’s physique.
And he was trying to surreptitiously overhear the angry phone call the man made. With a woman who was screaming. Asking for something? Accusing him of something? He muttered something vituperative but quiet. Avery scrutinized his phone intently so it wouldn’t look like he was listening.
The trashy musclegod was constantly taking his backwards baseball cap off, touching his head as though rubbing his fingers through his hair — he didn’t have enough hair to actually do so, but he touched his scalp like he wanted to — and then put the backwards baseball cap back on.
Hitch! The woman on the phone was calling him Hitch. Or maybe bitch, but Avery was pretty sure it was Hitch.
Hitch made eye contact with Avery, who couldn’t tear himself away or conceal his massive boner. He was sure anyone who looked in his direction would see it. He blushed before anything else even happened, and felt for a moment of intense eye contact, it felt like Hitch’s powerful body was dripping sweat into Avery’s mouth. Avery could taste the salty acrid flavor of his flesh. Hitch rolled his eyes in Avery’s direction.
He probably even tasted like trailer park trash. Avery bet he tasted real bad. Men like Hitch were precisely the reason women hated this gym. They didn’t go here because it was the kind of low-class spot that had puddles of dripped sweat on the benches. Men don’t care about that stuff. Women can’t abide. Avery loved it.
When Avery looked away to avoid gawking at Hitch, he spied a gaggle of men coming out of the locker room together shirtless or in sleeveless shirts or those little half-shirts that football players wore, lifting weights, touching each other’s muscles, shooting funny-sexy videos for their YouTube channels. Avery’s face bloomed ruddy and dappled in nervous sweat.
That was when he saw Hitch coming over here. He had that awkward thick way of walking that heavy, strong-bodied men had, like his feet didn’t know how to carry a man of this size. Hitch wore one of those “stringers”, the tank tops with no sleeve or shoulder, just a thin strip of material that ran between the shoulderblades and over the spine, soaking up all that delicious backsweat. His muscles stretched and flexed with each step he took.
Hitch walked over to Avery, whispering in his ear with such sexiness that Avery nearly exploded with desire. “I seen the way you lookin’ at me,” he said with a thick Lowcountry-hick accent.
Avery stammered over his words. “Uh… Well, I…” He looked at his feet but found himself staring at Hitch’s huge shoes. You know what they say about guys with big feet… He got the feeling Hitch was implying he wanted Avery to jerk him off. That was what Avery wanted to do, and Hitch seemed like the type. But he could have meant he knew Avery was eavesdropping on his phone call. So Avery didn’t say anything in return. “Hmm… Uh, well…”
“Don’t say nothin’,” Hitch said with a sneer. “You one snivelin’ li’l pansy, ain’cha? I got sumpin you can do wit’ that dumb mouth of ya’s, if’n you want. Or if’n you don’t want, I don’t give a shit. Come on.”
Avery looked around to see if anyone else was listening, but the other men were all grunting as they worked out alone or in small groups. No one paid attention to him and Hitch, who turned to walk away without checking if Avery followed.
Avery did follow though. Of course he did. He would love to get bullied some more by this foul-armpitted muscle-man in a stringer. Avery wanted to suck that fabric clean. A stringer has such little fabric to begin with that as soon as the wearer starts sweating, it becomes sweat-soaked. That was the main reason to wear one, really. If an alpha male athlete knows whatever shirt he wears will soon be a sweat-soaked rag, he might as well wear one with as little fabric as possible. It’s for when you want to be shirtless but decorum or state law or whatever prohibits. Hitch, wearing that stringer his muscles bulged out of, loomed tall and strong ahead of Avery, who was a little scared — what if this was a prelude to a beating? That seemed eminently possible.
“C’mon, brah, lift that shit! Do it! Do it!” One man was trying to get another one pumped up as he did a bench-press. He slapped the younger man’s pectoral muscles, which were bare, gleaming, growing larger seemingly as Avery walked by watching and licking his lips.
He followed Hitch into the locker room, into a deserted corner in the back of the showering area, behind a curtain. Avery knew this was potentially dangerous, that Hitch was an obviously disreputable lout — he literally had Bad Boy tattooed on his neck — and slice of white trash and that he could be walking into an ambush. But Hitch was had better muscles than any man Avery had ever seen, and he was so horny he wasn’t sure he could resist even if he wanted to.
“G’on, then, do it, sissy.”
So when Hitch pulled his cock out and pushed Avery down to the ground, refusing to let him do any of “that sissy shit” like play with his thick pecs and biceps, Avery was so turned on he swallowed Hitch’s cock right down. He had a long, thick shaft that was dripping with rancid sweat, which Avery savored and suckled. It smelled like he hadn’t showered in a couple days, and Avery wondered, not for the first time, if Hitch was homeless.
Without thinking about it, his fingers crept back up, underneath Hitch’s stringer. He barely caught a feel of his hard pecs and nipples before Hitch swatted his hand back.
“If’n you keep tryna-a feel me up, sissy, I will beat you senseless, maaaahn, foolish mug,” he murmured. He sneered down at Avery, whose head worked up and down Hitch’s rapidly firming up cock. “Goddamn, shit, lick that cock, boy, goddamn…” Hitch murmured. He slapped Avery’s cheek, not real hard but hard enough to make a loud ringing sound. Avery put one of his hands on Hitch’s ballsac, gently stroking his scrotum, while his other hand jacked himself off. Hitch grunted and again slapped Avery on the cheek, a little harder this time. “Back in prison, we had one sneak to the fence j’st ‘bout e’ry Sunday, on account of they know the guards don’t have ‘nough folks workin’ on Sundays to monitor the fence. They gives us couple bucks to jerk us off through the fence.” Hitch grumbled and grunted. “That you?”
Avery tried to answer — he had never done that but absolutely would if he found out where exactly — but Hitch didn’t let up on his throat, so he just mumbled the best he could with a full mouth. He flickered his tongue up and down Hitch’s shaft, making sure he got every drop of sweat off there.
He could taste that prison-life in Hitch’s body. Avery had thought at first he might have been talking shit, but Avery had jerked off enough guys to taste the different kinds of men. Hitch had a musky metallic quality, like sucking on a copper penny that had been marinated in ball-sweat for hours, and Avery had learned long ago to associate that with ex-cons. It was like those steel corridors and handcuffs and rough-hewn, poorly-washed clothing had seeped into their skin — more prosaically, Avery thought they tasted similar because they ate the same, mostly canned food and wore the same brands of clothes washed with the same brands of detergent. He preferred to imagine it as the taste of prison life though.
The sour, salty flavor of precum coated his tongue, and Avery moaned as he shot a load in his own pants. Hitch didn’t even seem to notice that Avery had jacked off. Hitch might have made Avery stop if he had seen it.
Avery quickened his rhythm on Hitch’s cock, struggling to choke the whole thing down. He nuzzled it deeply until his nose was buried in Hitch’s pubic hair, and by now, Avery was reaching up to massage Hitch’s pecs and around to play with his plump asscheeks — Hitch had allowed him to do it now that his dick was hard, and all he could think about was getting deeper in Avery’s ass. Hitch had never taken his workout shorts off, they were just down around his ankles, so he couldn’t really move forward without tripping (or without picking his shorts up). That meant he couldn’t effectively throat Avery down, he had to keep leaning forward, almost losing his balance, trying to grip Avery’s head without losing his balance.
“You disgusting,” Hitch said with a loud hoot. He slammed his fist into the wall and let out a moan. “Disgustin’, yeah, but you got a fine mouth, boy, goddamn!”
Avery choked as Hitch began plowing his face even harder. He had finally gotten a good grip on his skull, and Avery submitted to the aggressive throating. He could deep-throat like few others. Hitch pushed Avery’s head against the wall of the locker room and began slamming into him. With every flex of his hips, the lockers rattled behind Avery.
The locker room door swung open, and Avery heard footsteps and Southern-tinged laughter.
“Hitch, you in here?” asked one of the men. “Or’d you beat that sissy down?”
A couple deep voices filled the locker room with their laughter.
“Over here,” Hitch said. “Got the sissy swinging on my dick.”
The other men turned the corner and saw them. They burst into laughter. Avery was embarrassed, but it seemed Hitch was even more so. They had known he was going to do this, but they hadn’t really believed it. It was especially funny because Hitch had a shocked look on his face, like he never thought dome from a man would feel good. He muttered and looked away, his face and chest flush as he slammed Avery against the wall. He was plowing Avery’s throat even harder now, no doubt showing off to his friends, Avery thought, not that he minded.
And though Avery tried to stand up, Hitch had him pinned against the wall. Hitch’s muscular frame jiggled up and with his thrusts, as Hitch and his gym-rat buddies laughed together. Hitch rammed his hips again and again, forcing every inch of his cock down Avery’s choking throat. Avery dug his nails into Hitch’s backside, but Hitch was relentless. The sweat dappled and twinkled as it evaporated off Hitch’s prison-tatted muscles.
“Watch,” Hitch said with a cruel sneer. He glared down at Avery, then looked up at his buddies and laughed. “I gonna make this sissy spit my spunk out his nose. You hear that, sissy? We gonna play a game. It’s called Choke-the-Sissy.”
His balls slammed against Avery’s chin. Hitch used one hand to pinch Avery’s nostrils shut, and the other to massage his neck. The other guys got closer, then backed away because they didn’t want to get splashed with cum.
Hitch closed his eyes. He looked almost pained, like he had to struggle to bust a nut. He murmured a little, and he flexed his biceps and his traps. Avery was pinned straight-up against the wall at this point, Hitch’s balls resting on his chin as Avery’s lungs cried out for oxygen. Hitch moved his waist in little circles, like he was making love to every inch of Avery’s gullet, which spasmed and choked.
Maybe it was that spasm that finally triggered Hitch’s orgasm. He grunted and slapped Avery — hard this time — really hard — just as he reached his climax, and pleasure visibly rippled through Hitch’s chest muscles. Jizz spurted into Avery’s belly, Hitch’s cock extending down so deep it was past Avery’s tongue and he didn’t taste it.
He let go of Avery’s nose just as he shot his load right down his throat. Avery let loose a torrent of choked coughing, but Hitch kept his dick in place, so the cum spurted out Avery’s nostrils. It sprayed in a giant wad into Hitch’s wiry crotch hair.
“Ah, shit, he’s doing it!”
“It’s happening!”
“Oh god…”
“Eww, nasty!”
They all laughed and clutched each other as though they might get splashed, which was a real possibility. A huge cumwad sprayed from Avery’s nostrils and soaked Hitch’s meaty frame. More kept coming. At this point Avery’s sore throat couldn’t clench even if he wanted to, and Hitch was back to ramming his dick back and forth, moaning again and again as his orgasm ran through him.
He shot a huge load, or maybe Avery just choked up a huge amount of creamy spit, or both. In any case, he made a huge cummy mess on the floor and on Avery’s chest. Hitch’s cock was covered in his own cum and more of Avery’s spit, which Avery sucked up loudly as he tried to regain his breath. The watching men alternately laughed and groaned.
“Alright,” Hitch said. His dick dangled in front of his crotch, and when he swayed, it slapped into the soupy mess on Avery’s face. “Let’s clean up and go find some bitches..” He was ruddy and covered in sweat.
And that was it. Hitch and his friends went off, to find bitches, presumably.
Avery thought it was a one-time thing, that surely a stud like Hitch wouldn’t be interested in plowing a sissy on a regular basis. He must have had bitches to fuck, right?
But the next week he saw Hitch again, and knew right away from the look in his eyes that Hitch wanted another go. The muscle-bound hick was doing bench presses in another stringer, a tattered old one with a Confederate flag on it. Avery saw him when he walked by and glanced in his direction. He tried to remain aloof but saw Hitch watching him out of the corner of his eye.
Hitch approached him later, looked around to make sure no one was watching, then whispered, “Hey, I got a better place we could go this time. We ain’t gotta rush like before.”
“Hey, I didn’t, uh… I mean, yeah, fine,” Avery said, shocked that once again Hitch had approached him instead of the other way around. He forgot any of the things he wanted to say. All he could think about was being used and abused again.
Obviously, he agreed to follow Hitch.
This time, Hitch brought him back to a room where unused equipment sat. It looked and smelled like a gym, just with more dust and less sweat in the air. Plastic exercise mats and disused weights were scattered about, among machines that seemed possibly broken or simply out-of-date. A couple treadmills were back there too, each one with a post-it note listing what was wrong with it.
Hitch unceremoniously dropped his workout shorts and jockstrap, letting his dick flop out. He kept the stringer on. It was so wet with sweat it was plastered to his skin. Of course a stringer is just a narrow strap of fabric running down the center of the back and chest, so almost his entire torso was revealed. Avery stroked his cock, using Hitch’s own sweat as grease. His heart began pounding again as he wondered how private this room was — it wasn’t locked, and it wasn’t even marked as off-limits.. He kissed Hitch’s chest and licked his nipple, letting his tongue run up and down Hitch’s powerful torso. Acrid sweat smeared over Avery’s face.
Hitch again batted his face away, just like last time. “Nah,” he said. “We ain’t makin’ love. You wanna get it up the ass, get started and jerk it. Quit playing games.”
That momentary taste of Hitch’s nipple gave Avery a shot of adrenaline, and his own dick popped into full erection. “You need to quit playing games,” Avery said without thinking about it. He slathered his tongue on Hitch’s pecs, which rippled and twitched when Hitch grunted. Avery didn’t want to risk losing this chance to jerk off this alpha once more, but he didn’t like being lectured. “If you want dome, I want a taste of your chest. I wanna see what those nipples taste like, and I wanna lick the sweat off your body.” With an overexcited cluck of his tongue, Avery rammed his own hardon onto Hitch’s thigh, which he humped until Hitch shoved him to his feet. He left a sheen of precum on Hitch’s sweat-greasy thigh.
“Alright you bitch-ass punk, I don’t gotta be nice,” he said. He shoved Avery to his knees. “This ain’t ’bout you, and I ain’t wastin’ my time so’s you can lick my chest.” He smacked Avery in the cheek. “You a sissy, you got me hard, now you is finishin’ me off.”
Avery wanted to stand his ground and demand some respect, but he didn’t want to risk missing that opportunity. He glared up at Hitch, whose handsome face glared right back. Hitch grabbed ahold of Avery’s ears, just like before, and held his head in place for maximum fucktoy-use. He had big, sweaty balls that slapped against Avery’s chin as he began working his dick into Avery’s throat.
Just like before, Avery choked — but earlier this time — and Hitch didn’t stop. Avery didn’t want him to stop, but still, when he tapped Hitch on the meat of his asscheeks, Hitch just rammed harder at his tender throat. The familiar flavor of manflesh assaulted Avery’s senses, and he moaned around the cock in his throat. He suckled all the fluids and precum off it, letting all of Hitch’s macho juices flow into him.
“Hey, let’s turn it round,” Hitch said with a laugh. “We can do this right. There’s only one good way to cornhole a punk in the throat. Learnt this in prison, watch this.” Hitch dragged Avery by the head to a slanted bench — that must have been why he chose this room, cuz this bench was in here. Avery laid on it backwards, so his throat was arched upward as he leaned his head back to let Hitch ram his mouth.
Avery opened his mouth again, and Hitch rammed it in. This time his cock easily pushed all the way in, so Avery’s nose was buried in the thick, coppery bush around his balls. The scent of sweat was overwhelming, and Avery shot his load onto his own chest and belly with just a few tugs of his dick.
“I ain’t say you could jack off,” Hitch said. He growled and open-hand slapped Avery on his belly, right in the puddle of jizz — it was just a slap, but it was hard, and Avery cringed in pain. “Now we gonna do something really nasty,” Hitch said. “Actually you gonna do something real nasty. You ready for that?”
Avery nodded the best he could with Hitch’s cock shoved down his throat. The precum leaked out of his lips and stuck to his chin, and some of it came out his nose too, just like last time. The movement prompted Avery to gag violently, which made Hitch sneer, watching gobs of spit spill out of Avery’s mouth.
The smell of saliva was thick and cloggy in the air. Hitch let his dick plop out, and he snickered as Avery’s face turned red and he heaved for breath. Tendrils of saliva connected Avery’s heaving mouth and nose to Hitch’s dick.
Hitch turn around and bent over. “I know you know how to do this, bitch,” he said. “Not even the filthiest female sluts like eating ass though. So you is my only chance to do it real nasty. Get ya sissy tongue all the way up there, bitch.”
Avery wasn’t really a rimjob-lover, so he would have said no if asked, but it was somehow more arousing that he didn’t have a choice in the matter, and in any case, he wanted nothing more than to taste the musty sweat dripping down oHitch’s body. Avery dove in enthusiastically, separating Hitch’s toned, jiggling asscheeks with his fingers. He had a slick buttcrack, covered in sweat from his workout. Avery jerked every drop of it up.
Still gathering his breath from that throating a few seconds, Avery went to work on the asshole, slipping his tongue directly inside. The musky, filthy taste overwhelmed him, and Avery reached his hands around Hitch’s body to jack him off. Hitch’s huge cock throbbed in Avery’s fingers, spewing copious precum that lubed up Avery’s hands.
Hitch flexed his hips, moving his body up and down, rubbing his asshole on Avery’s face and tongue like a dog with an infected ass. His big muscles shifted with every move, and he let out an uncontrollable moan. For the first time, he seemed to be losing control, his passion and lust overtaking him.
“Man, you is nasty,” Hitch muttered. He drew his stringer up high so it wouldn’t get in Avery’s way, as Avery slathered his ass in spit. His asshole loosened as Avery jabbed his tongue farther and farther in, wiggling it around, poking at his spongy prostate. The funk was intense and marvelous, and Hitch let out a howl of intense pleasure. His muscles rippled under that stringer from his shoulders to his thighs, which Avery gripped as he lapped at Hitch’s asscrack. His tongue ran from the taint to the small of his back, but Avery paid special attention to Hitch’s tight hole. His tongue explored the rim and entered the hole, which made Hitch grunt and howl again and again.
When he could resist no longer, without a single word of warning, Hitch turned around and rammed his cock back down Avery’s throat. His shaft spasmed and spat a thick load of cum. It sank into Avery’s gullet, filling him up with hot, sticky fluid.
More and more came out, and since Hitch still wore that now-disgusting stringer — its paltry fabric soaked in several body fluids — it was draped over Avery’s face, as he no longer held it up. All Hitch cared about now was his orgam, which overwhelmed him and made him cry out loud. He aggressively held Avery’s head in place, though Avery didn’t try to move it away.
Avery swallowed every drop of his jizz, savoring the flavor as Hitch stood up and sneered at him. His heart pounding, Avery cowered beneath him. It tasted salty and warm and a little grimy, which was exactly the flavor Avery liked best.
“You’re nasty,” Hitch said, sweat pouring down his forehead. He took off his stringer and pulled up his workout shorts. He tossed the nasty-wet stringer at Avery. “Luckily, that’s the only quality I like in you.”
“Me too,…” Avery said. He caught the stringer tank top, which he wadded up into a ball and inhaled from deeply. “You smell nasty too…” A long, low moan came outta Avery, as the scent sent him reeling. Then he passed Hitch his business card. Avery sucked up more of the sweat and jizz clinging to the stringer. “Call me. Anytime.”