The Home Invaders

When Avery is woken up by a home invasion in progress, he never thought it would end like this!

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After spending years living with roommates, Avery was overjoyed at finally having a home of his own. He rented a house in the inner-city. It was a run-down, two-bedroom affair, broken windows sealed up with cardboard and all, a stamp-sized front yard that was all brown like a mummified lawn. But it was Avery’s first chance to live totally on his own, and he had never felt more independent than when he first slept in his new bed there.
It wasn’t the nicest neighborhood, but it wasn’t the worst either. Avery didn’t even really care about how nice the neighborhood was — he could take care of himself.
Or so he thought. One night, just a few weeks after moving in, his ability to defend his home was put to the test. Avery woke up before dawn to the sound of a man breaking in.
Maybe two men.
His heart nearly leapt out of his chest. He grabbed the pepper spray he kept in his bedroom and hurried into the hallway.
There were two men there.
Avery stepped into the bathroom so they wouldn’t see him just yet. The closer one was young, handsome, short and lanky, but with bulging muscles beneath his baggy clothes. He had tight cheekbones and a smooth chin, cute but thinks he’s handsome, like an adorable newt. Avery might have seen him before, maybe at the bodega? He caught Avery’s eye because he had those dimples you could do dishes in.
The other one, who was unplugging the television in the living room, was bigger and older, scruffy, cornrowed and lighter-skinned. He was heavyset like a professional wrestler, with a craggy face like a lighthouse keeper. He had a deep scratchy voice too, and his smooth panther-like movements contradicted his apparent roughness, age and heavyset frame. Avery was a great appreciator of male physiques, and both of these men had remarkable ones.
There was no time to consider that though. Avery needed to get to his phone, so he could call the police.
“Yo, Rico, help me pack up this Playstation,” said the older one.
“Yeah, Thumper, in a sec.” Rico — the younger, handsome one — glanced down the hall. He looked worried, in contrast to Thumper’s confident glare. Rico seemed uncertain of whether he had seen movement.
Holding his breath, Avery hid deeper in the bathroom, looking around for anything he could use as a weapon.
“Rico! Nigga, come on!” Thumper said. “Nobody here, okay? Just help me get this shit!”
Rico sighed. He turned around.
Avery wished he had his cell phone with him so he could call the police, but he had stupidly plugged it in using a kitchen outlet — he was all out of outlets in his bedroom. Now it seemed so simple, he could have unplugged something he wasn’t going to use tonight. There were a ton of reasons to keep his phone near the bed.
Wait! A memory lightbulbed up in Avery’s mind. He had put that box of stuff in the bathroom closet, the box with the flashlight and stuff from that one drawer in the apartment — the drawer that was beside the door in his old apartment, which was why he put the pepper spray in that drawer. The pepper spray was in the closet.
While the two home invaders were stacking up Avery’s television and Playstation by the door, Avery silently opened the bathroom closet. He rifled through the box until he found the pepper spray.
Just around the corner, in the hall, Rico opened the hall closet — which was adjacent to the bathroom closet Avery was in, though neither of them knew they were a few feet from each other, practically looking at each other despite the wall in the way. Rico whistled in surprise, which was when Avery realized where he was.
“Thought you said it was just a single man living here,” Rico said.
“Yup.”
“He got a closet full of women’s clothes,” Rico said.
That seemed to throw Thumper for a loop. Avery couldn’t see from his vantage point, but he thought Thumper was looking in the closet too. That meant they were both facing away from the bathroom.
This is your opportunity, he told himself. He crept out of the bathroom closet and quietly pushed the bathroom door open.
“Tall woman too,” Thumper said. “Prolly an ex-wife or some shit. Go on and look in the bedroom-“
“Fuck you, assholes!” Avery screamed and came into the living room, pepper spray in hand. He realized only when Thumper and Rico looked at him that he had never looked closely at this pepper spray. He didn’t know how to use it, or whether there was some kind of safety latch he needed to remove first. Sure enough, when he pressed the trigger, nothing happened. The can of pepper spray was unopened, and Thumper lazily knocked it out of Avery’s hand.
For a moment, all was silent. Thumper and Rico looked at Avery as though they had never seen a white man before. Avery was too scared to move.
Thumper chuckled. “Oh, damn. Someone is here.”
“Don’t hurt me!”
“Tie him up in his room,” Thumper said. He turned around to look in the drawers of the desk in the living room. He picked up an old iPod as though considering stealing that, then decided it wasn’t worth it. He set it back down.
Rico approached Avery with the confident, cocky glare of a thug. Avery, embarrassed at having been outmatched so easily, felt a surge of adrenaline — if he let these home invaders dictate what happened here, this would end up bad for sure.
“Goan, man,” Rico said. “Get to the bedroom.” Despite his confident demeanor, Avery could tell he was wavering. He had never done anything this violent.
“No. Fuck you,” Avery said. “Get outta my house.”
“Just take him, Rico!” Thumper barked.
Rico pushed Avery towards the hallway, but Avery had a few pounds on him. He stood flat-footed and didn’t move an inch. He pushed Rico back, and the smaller man nearly tripped over the couch. Rico looked like he hadn’t expected to have to make an effort. He was used to intimidating scared white men, but Avery’s adrenaline flowed too hard for him to be easy to scare.
Thumper laughed. “What’s wrong wit’choo, boy?”
“He pushed me!” shouted the annoyed Rico, who stomped towards Avery yet again.
“Yeah, he do that!” Thumper said. “We’s robbin’ him. He might push back. That happens, nigga. Shit’s fucked up.”
That momentary burst of success gave Avery a spring in his step. This time when Rico approached him, Avery used the self-defense techniques he learned in a karate class at the Y — he nearly knocked Rico over with a foot sweep, but instead put him in a bear hug. Rico’s lithe muscles squirmed beneath Avery’s touch as Avery kept a hold of him and dragged him to the front door.
He literally tossed Rico out into the front stoop, as Thumper laughed behind him like a baritone jackal. When Avery turned around, Thumper was screaming peals of laughter, clapping his hands on his meaty thighs.
“You got that, man, you got that!”
Avery blushed. He hadn’t meant to impress Thumper. Now that Rico was gone, Avery just needed to get rid of Thumper, or at least make it into the kitchen to call the police.
But then Rico walked right back in behind Avery. He once again tried to push Avery, who easily tossed him out the front door yet again.
This time, he was distracted long enough for Thumper — who still laughed as though he had never seen anything so funny — to grab Avery from behind. He wrapped both muscular arms around Avery and hissed. His basketball-thick arms were like iron bars, and Avery was unable to escape his hold.
“Get off me!”
“This is how you do it, nigga!” Thumper barked at Rico. Thumper’s powerful body pressed against Avery’s back.
Rico muttered as he followed Thumper, who dragged Avery into the bedroom. Rico shut the front door and wiped wet grass off his stained t-shirt. Avery wiggled in Thumper’s might grasp, ensconcing himself in Thumper’s broad chest muscles.
Despite or maybe because of all the fighting, Avery was horny. It came both from general excitement as well as from the strapping muscles of Thumper’s body, undulating behind his back. Avery could even feel a horsey cock beneath Thumper’s jeans, rubbing against the small of Avery’s back.
“Get some rope,” Thumper said as he tossed Avery on the bed on his belly.
Avery felt naked and vulnerable. He wore only a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. He tried to get up, but Thumper sat on the bed next to him, resting one heavy arm on Avery’s back.
“Get a rope!”
“I, uh, I ain’t got one.”
“I tol’ you bring a rope!”
“You said he wouldn’t be home! And I ain’t got a motherfuckin’ rope, nigga!”
Thumper sighed. “You stupid fuck. What we s’posed to tie him up with?”
“You said he wouldn’t be home.”
“What I said was bring a rope, nigga!” Thumper said. “You should stay prepared, man. Don’t come into some nigga’s house without rope to tie him up.” He patted Avery on the back of the head. “Sorry ‘bout callin’ you a nigga, whiteboy.”
“That’s okay. Just get out! Lemme go,” Avery said.
“Go find something we can tie him up with,” Thumper said with a sigh. He held Avery’s face in the pillow, not suffocating him, but keeping him from seeing what Rico was doing. After a few seconds, Thumper shouted in frustration. “Not in here, nigga! If there was something in here we could use to tie him up, I’d-a said ‘hand me that, nigga’. I said go find something!”
Rico muttered angrily to himself as he walked out the door the bedroom. He could be heard pawing through the hallway closet.
“Sorry, man, he young. He slow,” Thumper said. Leaving one hand on Avery’s neck and hand, his other rested on Avery’s back. That hand moved slowly lower, then he squeezed Avery’s asscheek. “He ain’t nevuh been locked up. He don’t know.” He leaned in and kissed the back of Avery’s neck. “You got a nice booty.” He let out a choked moan. “Boy, if you was my cellmate… I’d brew up something in yo’ ass and yo’ mouth, e’ry damn day.”
Avery shuddered at the thought. He was so aroused now his dick was already getting hard, pressing into the mattress beneath him.
“You into that, huh?”
“Hell yeah,” Avery said. “You can ram me. Just don’t rob me.”
Thumper laughed. “Those things ain’t mutually exclusive, man,” he said. “And you ain’t in position to be making demands.” He chuckled as he stood up. He unzipped the fly of his jeans and fished out a long dark cock. “There’s two options before you, but they both lead you to the same place.”
His head moved of its own will towards Thumper’s cock. Avery hesitated, inhaling that musty, prison-starved scent — he could tell that the underwear Thumper wore was that plain white kind, prison-issue boxers. He must be a recent releasee, or maybe he just never quite got over his release.
But before Avery could open his mouth to suck it down, Thumper took his head in hand and pulled it into his crotch. The silky sensation of limp cockmeat filled Avery’s mouth, and Avery inhaled deeply of the scent of his wiry pubic bush, which was all-black despite the streaks of gray in his beard and his cornrows. Thumper had an intense and potent flavor. He tasted of blunt ash and grimy city streets. He smelled of prison cells, men in cramped conditions and unwashed ballsweat.
In no time his cock began to firm up within Avery’s mouth. It grew hot and thick, and Avery let his tongue caress the underside of Thumper’s veiny shaft. He slurped up the sweat that clung to his shaft.
“Oh yeah…” Thumper murmured. “I only got outta prison yesterday, man. I needed this.”
Thumper kept all his clothes on. He didn’t even drop his pants, he just let his cock poke out of the fly of his jeans. As Avery licked, Thumper stooped more and more to give Avery better access to his entire dick. Soon enough, Thumper was leaning over the entire bed, humping Avery’s face like a dog.
His dick kept angling out of Avery’s mose and smearing spit over his face. It was at least a foot long and thick as Avery’s wrist, and it throbbed with a desperate, intense horniness. Thumper thrust with all his might even as he missed Avery’s mouth. Whenever he got a good rhythm of throating Avery down for a few seconds, he moaned and groaned and undulated his powerful chest muscles.
The smell of a lit cigarette filled the room. Avery was annoyed — he didn’t allow smoking in his home. He hated cigarettes, but he wasn’t about to complain, even if his mouth weren’t full. Lit cigarette cocked between his lips, Thumper climbed all the way onto the bed.
The position was awkward. No one would have ever chosen to get dome in this position, but Thumper didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was used to overcrowded prisons. Avery’s body jammed against the wall of his room, laying on his side, while Thumper crawled onto the bed, stooping over so his cock could reach out of his sagging jeans and into Avery’s throat.
“Slurp it good, nigga,” Thumper said. He snuck one callused hand behind Avery’s head, holding it still while he worked his cock in and out. When Avery finally gagged on its thickness invading his throat, Thumper murmured his approval. “There ya go. That’s the sound of a job done right. Move yo’ tongue around mo’.”
Avery did as he was told. He had never tasted a cock this delicious before. Avery could still savor the drops of untainted sweat that clung to his shaft, rather than tasting nothing more than his own spit.
Then the overwhelming saltiness of precum hit Avery’s senses. He moaned around the fat cock in his throat, which made Thumper laugh. He lightly smacked Avery on the cheek, and his callused fingers squeezed his nose shut to help his throat open more.
“You fo’ real, man,” he said. “I like you. You wanna slurp on my balls?”
He didn’t need to ask Avery twice. Avery reached into the hairy dankness of Thumper’s crotch and withdrew a low-hanging sac from the fly of his jeans. He drooled as he pulled off Thumper’s cock and let both hairy balls fall into his mouth.
That enormous brown dick stood straight up from his face. Avery lazily stroked it with one hand, giggling at sight of Thumper’s meat twitching with every touch — Avery kept his hand off-rhythm, light, just barely stroking Thumper’s shaft as he gurgled on those sensitive balls. That was tortuously tantalizing for Thumper, whose hands fluttered as though he was unwilling to touch himself no matter how much his instincts demanded it.
“Whatchoo doin, nigga?!” Rico screamed when he came back into the bedroom. He dropped the soft cloth belt from a bathrobe, which is apparently what he found with which to tie Avery down. Rico sounded like he was about to start crying.
Thumper laughed. “What’s it look like, lor nigga?”
Rico hesitated. He stood there in the doorway. Avery couldn’t see his face because Thumper’s balls overflowed from his mouth, and all that was in front of his eyes was that towering shaft of chocolate brown cock. With every barrel laugh of Thumper’s heavy body, Avery felt the balls on his tongue quiver. He suckled as loudly as he could, and the moist sound of gargling balls filled the room.
Rico audibly gagged. He came closer, approaching gingerly, as though it was a bomb he needed to find a way to defuse.
“You ramrodding’ that man?” Rico asked.
Thumper laughed again, and his balls twitched in Avery’s mouth. “Nah. He slurpin’ on my balls, nigga. Does it look like my dick is in his ass?”
“Ewwww…! He’s slurpin’ on ya balls, nigga!”
“I know, I just said that-
“Why’s he slurpin’ on ya balls? Ain’t that gross?”
“He likes it.”
There was a long silence. Avery could hear Rico come even closer, and kneel as he looked right at the balls disappearing down Avery’s throat.
“He likes the taste of balls?” He peered closer but stepped away as though worried about being splashed. He wrinkled his nose.
Thumper grabbed Rico’s head. Rico squealed and tried to pull away, but Thumper held him close. He dragged his head right to Avery’s ball-slurping face. For a moment it looked like Thumper was going to make Rico swallow his cock while Avery kept working on his balls.
But he didn’t let Rico go. He just held his face there for a long time, so close the spit from Avery’s ball-slurping splattered on Rico’s nose. Rico gagged and bucked, and Thumper let him go.
This time, Thumper and Avery both laughed together, though the sound of Avery’s laughter was a moistly muffled roar because his mouth was full. Rico wiped his face off and roared.
“Ewww! Ew, nigga! I tasted that!”
“Don’t nevuh get locked up, nigga,” Thumper said. He pulled his moist scrotum out of Avery’s mouth, planted it right on Avery’s nostrils and laughed at Rico’s shocked reaction. Avery snaked his tongue out to tease the underside of Thumper’s ballsac.
“I won’t!”
“You gunna embarrass me if you do.” Thumper pointed the tip of his dick into Avery’s mouth, but just jabbed it in once before getting up. He kneeled on the bed, straddling Avery’s body. He grabbed Rico’s dick and put it on his dick, but Rico let go without acknowledging that. Thumper said, “You know how things go in there, nigga.”
“Yeah!” Rico sounded like he was about to cry. “I know how lockup works, brah. If I was in there, I might lay some pipe in a nigga. But I ain’t. I-“
“You don’t want that to be yo’ first time, Rico,” Thumper said. His fingers gripped Avery’s face, rubbing his cheeks and stretching his mouth open. He leaned over until he was so close he nearly kissed Avery right on the lips. Rico watched with baited breath, but then all Thumper did was purse his lips and spit. A wad of saliva landed right in Avery’s mouth, and Thumper forced his lips shut. Thumper licked Avery’s spasming face from his chin to his forehead. “You mine, bitch.” He chuckled to himself. “It ain’t the same if you want it. I kinda miss makin’ prison bitches squirm,” he said, ruefully. “You wanna mouth off this nigga too?”
“God yes!” Avery shouted.
Rico didn’t respond and maybe didn’t understand what Thumper said. He wavered, and looked away when Thumper smiled at him. Without taking his body off the bed, Thumper wrapped one arm around Rico’s shoulder. Rico shuddered.
“C’mon, nigga. You should do this. You ain’t gotta tell no one,” Thumper said. “You gonna look like an idiot if yo’ first time wit’ a man happens behind bars. Don’t young niggas do shit on the downlow these days?”
“No!”
Thumper rolled his eyes. “You don’t, you mean. I know some young niggas do.”
“I got females, Thumper!” Rico said, his voice plaintive and desperate. He closed his eyes while Thumper guided him close to the bed. Rico began undoing his belt, but Thumper stopped him.
“Nah. Real thugs don’t take they clothes off, not to ram it up some whiteboy,” Thumper said. “You might have to run wit’ a quickness.”
Rico’s breathing was slow and swift. He was very nervous, and his hands trembled as he unzipped his fly. He took a deep breath and let his cock flop out. It was plenty long but not as remarkable as Thumper’s, and it wasn’t as thick. Avery still looked at it hungrily.
“Well? Come on, put it in his mouth,” Thumper said. He chuckled. “Gonna break you in tonight, Rico, shit…”
Rico winced. He closed his eyes again, and bit his lip. His dick waggled in front of Avery’s face. Thumper held it in one hand and wagged it like a dog’s tail. Rico sucked in his breath and looked away.
“Rico, you fucking pussy, just do it, if you gonna do it. If you scairt of this whiteboy and wanna run out the door, do that,” Thumper said. “Is you a thug or ain’t you? Thugs ain’t goddamn squeamish ‘bout who swallow they nut. Head is head.”
Rico nodded. He didn’t seem any more relaxed, and with his eyes still closed, he could do little more than flop his cock in the general direction of Avery’s mouth. Avery was eager to taste it. He lifted his head the best he could with Thumper still pinning him down. He got the tip of Rico’s dick in his mouth, but as soon as he touched it with his tongue, Rico giggled like a teenager and backed away.
“Rico!” Thumper screamed. “Don’t be a goddamn pussy. You almost twenty years old, actin’ like a fuckin’ pansy.”
With a startle, Rico stepped forward again. He opened his eyes just long enough to see that Thumper’s cock was still rock-hard, resting against Avery’s face. Thumper roared in frustration and grabbed Rico’s cock with one hand. He aimed it for Avery’s mouth.
“Shit, Thumper! You touchin’ my dick again!” Rico’s eyes opened wide, looking at his shaft in Thumper’s hand. He stood on his toes and sucked in his breath, but he didn’t back away from Thumper.
“Don’t be squeamish,” Thumper said with a snarl.
Avery was shocked that Thumper would touch another man’s dick. It looked like Rico was even more surprised. He looked at it like a bad car accident as Thumper led his dick to Avery’s mouth. Rico stepped forward stiffly, wishing he hadn’t agreed to rob houses with Thumper — he had known something like this would happen — not this exactly, but something unpleasant, Thumper was like that — Rico considered leaving even now. He could leave. Thumper would tease him about it and probably tell everyone Rico left because he couldn’t get hard.
Rico didn’t want to seem squeamish, and a part of him did want a consequence-free orgasm. So he didn’t leave. He just tried to pretend it wasn’t Thumper’s middle-aged, callused fingers pawing over his meat, stroking the shaft and forcing it like a dead snake into Avery’s waiting mouth.
This time Avery immediately licked the tip, which perked up right away. Rico frowned and sucked in his breath, still watching as Thumper stroked him and Avery slurped on him.
Again, Thumper seemed uncaring of how much he touched Rico’s cock, as he pointed his own cock towards Avery’s mouth as well. Avery focused on getting Rico hard while Thumper’s dick poked at his lips. Rico’s lithe frame was so tense he was like a fully clothed statue, his knees trembling as he got hard in Avery’s mouth. Avery got one hand on both dicks and slurped on them both at the same time. Thumper’s was still rock-hard, Rico’s stayed soft as pudding.
“See, nigga? It ain’t bad. You gangbang bitches?”
“Yeah!” Rico scrunched his eyes half-shut, and he leaned back like he wanted to be as far from his dick as possible. He might have been holding his breath, Avery couldn’t tell.
“You ever joust in a bitch’s mouth?”
Rico mumbled over some words that Avery couldn’t quite catch. He sucked in his breath and looked away, then back at his dick touching Thumper’s dick and being battered by Avery’s tongue, then looked away again, then back. With a jolly grin, Thumper wrapped one arm around Rico and brought his head in. He kissed Rico on the forehead and laughed again as Rico pulled away from him.
“Lay off me, nigga! Why we gotta joust and shit?” Rico said.
“I just like fuckin’ wit’ you, nigga,” Thumper said. “But we ain’t gotta joust if you want. I’ll do him up the ass.” Then he backed away. He rolled Avery over onto his back, so Rico had to mount his body just like Thumper had been, in order to aim his dick into Avery’s mouth. Meanwhile, Thumper, in one smooth motion, lifted up Avery’s legs and pulled his sweatpants down.
“Oh shit, you isgonna ram that man!”
“Hell yeah, I ain’t some squeamish nigga who just wanna get his dick wet,” Thumper said. “I been locked up, nigga. I ain’t fuck for a long time.”
“Brah, I ain’t wanna hear that shit. That’s disgustin’-“
“Nigga! Shut yo’ goddamn mouth. If you keep complainin’, I’ll have you stick ‘im too,” he said.
Rico wasn’t really paying attention to his dick. He was much smaller than Thumper, so in order to mount Avery’s chest, he had to stretch his hips and thighs apart. It was distinctly uncomfortably for him, especially in those loose-fitting jeans he still wore. He kept his hips perfectly still as Avery slurped on his smooth brown shaft through the fly. Rico didn’t notice his dick was getting hard in Avery’s mouth.
“Keep yo’ head lookin’ that way if you don’t wanna see it,” Thumper said gruffly as he wedged the tip of his dick between Avery’s cheeks. He shoved a small pillow under there to lift up Avery’s ass, then rammed his dick in.
It was just the first few inches at first, but the pain was intense. Avery moaned around the cock in his throat, as pleasure followed the pain in pulsating throughout his body. That hot cock pushed deeper and deeper inside.
“Brah, can’t you give a warning? He almost bit down on my dick-“
“You ain’t figger out what was about to happen?” Thumper asked. He lifted his shirt up so it wouldn’t get in the way, then lifted it over his head, without taking it off. His high yellow chest was bare and gleaming with sweat. Thumper ground his dick in even deeper and chuckled at Avery’s squirming. “This honky know how to take it. How’s that dome, nigga?”
Rico didn’t answer. He closed his eyes again. His dick was hard, but it seemed that he was still too nervous and distracted to notice. His lithe body bucked instinctively.
“You best get tougher, nigga, or less handsome,” Thumper said. “Prison go’n eat you alive.”
“I ain’t goan to prison! And can you not talk? Yo’ voice is right in my ear. I can’t nut wit’ yo’ voice all up in my shit,” Rico said.
Thumper was leaning forward, so his breath condensed on Rico’s neck. “When you locked up, there ain’t always bitches around. Most of the time, you in a cell wit’ some dudes. Even if you got a bitch, he prolly ain’t around when you want him.”
“I ain’t tryin’-a get locked up, brah.”
“No one tries to get locked up, sometimes it just happens,” Thumper said. “And you gotta feel good however you can.”
Rico shuddered as Thumper’s hands caressed his back. Thumper lifted up his shirt to reveal a broad, smooth brown back. His fingers danced up and down Rico’s spine.
Then his hands roamed lower and lower, until they went past the waist of Rico’s jeans. He grabbed Rico’s plump asscheeks.
“You ever took it up the ass before?”
“No!”
“You got a hell of an ass, nigga,” Thumper said gruffly. He kissed Rico’s bare shoulder then rammed one finger up his asshole.
Rico was so nervous that his erection flagged inside Avery’s mouth. Avery didn’t mind, as this was arousing enough that he didn’t want it to end. Anything that made it go on longer was fine by him.
“How’s that feel, nigga?”
Rico closed his eyes, not willing to answer. He leaned forward and grimaced in pain as his hips began instinctually flexing forward and back, daggering his dick deep into Avery’s throat as he went forward.
Rico couldn’t see what Thumper was doing, so he had no idea that Thumper caressed Avery’s flat stomach. Then he grabbed Avery’s cock and gave it a stroke. He made a quiet shushing sound, which Avery gathered was aimed at him — Thumper didn’t want Rico to know he was giving a reacharound (of sorts — it wasn’t a real reacharound, since Avery was on his back; it was a reach-front).
With the taste of one cock in his mouth and another stimulating his prostate, Avery had no ability to delay his orgasm. He was about to bust a nut without anyone even touching his cock, and now that Thumper was stroking it, he couldn’t resist. Avery cried out but the sound was muffled by Rico’s cock.
Cum spurted from his cock, coating Thumper’s fingers. Thumper didn’t slow down at all. He kept stroking, and moaned as Avery’s body contorted around the cock in his ass.
Rico was so focused on the pleasure coming from both ends that he didn’t notice Avery orgasm. He breathed a sigh of relief as Thumper removed one finger from his ass then gasped when Thumper replaced it with one from the other hand, the hand he had just stroked Avery off with. Rico had no idea that the pinkie finger in his ass was coated in Avery’s cum.
“Ah, gawd, here it comes, brah,” Rico said, his voice soft and weak now that he was letting Thumper finger him. His voice even broke as the first few drops of cum coated Avery’s tongue.
“Nah, niggas paint they bitches’ face,” Thumper said. He grabbed Rico’s cock as it shot its load, pulled it out of Avery’s mouth and aimed it to spray all over his face. Rico’s entire tight body spasmed at Thumper’s touch, and his cock pulsated beneath Thumper’s fingers, his asshole squeezing the finger of Thumper’s other hand..
As the orgasm wrapped around Rico’s muscles, he leaned forward, gasping. Rico yelped and squirmed but didn’t try to crawl away, he just submitted to the humiliation of enjoying his cum spray into Avery’s mouth.
Thumper grunted. He stayed still for just a moment. He kissed Rico’s neck, making Rico shudder at the touch of Thumper’s lips. Avery stroked Rico’s sensitive cockshaft as he felt Thumper’s cumload spray within him.
It was hot and creamy, and Avery and Thumper moaned together, as though harmonizing with each other. Thumper’s guttural, tremulous tone filled the room, and Rico shuddered in disgust at the sound. Avery, feeling bold, pushed his hands up underneath Rico’s shirt. He gripped his pecs — just as he had suspected, Rico was small, but powerfully-muscled. Each pectoral muscle was like an overpumped basketball, tense with post-orgasmic glow and awkward tension, his older thug friend still massaging his back and fingering his ass.
Then he was done. Thumper didn’t move. He kept his limp cock right in Avery’s ass, while both cum-covered hands caressed Rico’s body. It was obvious he was playing a prank on Rico, seeing how much touching he would accept before complaining. Rico held his breath and closed his eyes, trying to pretend there weren’t men feeling him up from both sides.
“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” Rico finally said. He nearly fell off the bed in his haste to get away, and he sighed when Thumper leggo his ass. He shuddered as he pulled his shirt back down and tucked his cock away in his pants. “I know you just messin’ wit’ me.”
Thumper dismounted Avery’s ass, the intense pressure of being penetrated finally leaving Avery’s mind. Thumper stood next to the bed, then much to Avery’s surprise, he dropped his pants all the way to his ankles. A thick, hairy pair of asscheeks waited right above Avery’s face.
Thumper pulled those cheeks apart to reveal a twinkling brown asshole. He laughed at Rico’s shudder of disgust, and Thumper planted his ass right on Avery’s face.
“Give it a kiss, man,” Thumper said.
Avery did as he was told. Thumper waited for the kiss on his ass, then shuddered and stood up. He pulled his pants back up.
“Okay, we ain’t takin’ this man’s shit,” Thumper said.
“What?! After all that, nigga?”
Thumper nodded. “We already rammed him. That’s enough. Ain’t really got shit anyway.”
“Come back anytime,” Avery said. He blushed. He should follow them out to the living room, to make sure they didn’t actually take anything. But he was too weak from the dick he just took to stand or walk, so he just watched them both march out the door.
From the living room, he heard Rico scoff. “We ain’t comin’ back-“
“Hell yeah we is,” Thumper said. “You find me a female tomorrow night, Rico. If you can’t get one to take it in the ass, I’ll either ram you or this honky. Your choice.”
“Man, Thumper… I mean, him, obviously-“
“Yo’ choice. I like touchin’ yo’ ass while I ram. Might keep you wit’ me e’ry time from now on,” Thumper said. He paused and yelled back, “Later, whiteboy. Get some porno mags we can look at next time.” The door slammed shut, then Thumper opened it. “Black chicks!”
“Okay,” Avery said, his voice too weak for anyone outside the bedroom to hear. He heard Thumper chuckling as he slammed the front door again, and Avery breathed a sigh of relief.
He was exhilarated. He settled down in his sheets, unwilling to move because he could still smell that masculine scent. He didn’t want it to ever go away.
There was a tap on his window. It was Rico’s handsome cornrowed face, frowning at him. “Hey, man? Thanks for that. I’ll come back alone sometime. I don’t wanna mess around with that ol’ nigga. But I want another nut from you. Don’t tell no one, okay?”
“Okay,” Avery said breathlessly.
Rico paused and whisper-yelled away from the window. “Alright, Thumper, damn! I’m comin’! I just dropped my lighter.” Then he muttered into the window before scurrying away. “Keep yo’ door unlocked and yo’ lips unchapped, man. I be back.”

The Debtor

Alfonso is late on his payments, but he can’t let the tow-truck driver take his car away… That means he’ll have to do whatever it takes to keep his car!

Is he gonna hafta bend over and take it from the generous booty bandit who makes an offer?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Alfonso scratched his balls as he went into the bathroom to shower. He had to step over stacks of dirty clothes. He yawned. His breath was hot and harsh, so he brushed his teeth right away. He didn’t like eating breakfast with bad breath.
There was a truck idling outside. That wasn’t so strange, since Alfonso lived above a bodega. They probably had a delivery. He had barely finished brushing his teeth when he realized it was a tow truck.
A tow truck picking up a car. A little blue Mazda.
Alfonso drove a little blue Mazda.
The tow truck was taking Alfonso’s car!
He darted outside, unaware that his dick dangled out the fly of his boxers. “Yo! Esé!” He ran to the parking lot, shivering in the chilly early-morning air.
He tore down the stairs of his building, screaming for the tow truck to stop. All the things he needed the car for ran through his mind — he needed to get to work, to drive to his girlfriend’s apartment, to drive his girlfriend places, to find other girls to fuck on the sly, to go to Tyrell’s to buy pills and just generally to not look like a poor slob who couldn’t afford a car.
So he couldn’t let them take it. By the time he made it out to the parking lot, he had become dimly aware of the fact that he was in his boxers. He tucked his cock back into the fly.
“Hey! What’re you doin’, esé?”
“Hello, Mr. Cornejo? We’re from Deltoro Towing and we’re here to-“
“Lay off my car, man! C’mon, what’choo doin’?”
The tough fat-bodied biker with thinning hair in a ponytail and a pig-like face glared at him. He was flanked by two more big men who crossed their arms over their chest. Behind them, the tow truck pulled the car up its ramp and onto the back of the truck.
“Ya gotta pay ya bill, hoss,” said the fat tow-truck driver, who grinned like an ape. “Car’s gettin’ repossessed!”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ deadbeat.”
“Ain’t ya car no more!”
“Nah! No way, esé! Put that car back! Hey!” Alfonso ran around them, heart pounding, unsure what he was going to do but desperate to do something. He thought maybe he could run up onto the back of the truck, get in the car and drive it away before anybody could react.
But he tottered a little as he got up onto the truck, which gave the repo men enough time to get close to him, and Alfonso realized he didn’t have his keys — all he wore was his boxers, which wasn’t even concealing his dick right now. He didn’t have his keys or his driver’s license or a shirt.
“Get down from there, man, don’t make us call the cops,” said the fat biker, who grunted and held one hand on his belly.
“Man, fuck you! I need that car! C’mon!” Alfonso tried to undo the straps keeping the car in place.
The guy operating the truck’s lift stopped it while Alfonso was climbing around up there, so the car was almost entirely on but the rear of it still angled down to the ground on the ramp. Alfonso felt strong hands on his feet as he reached for the straps. The men tried to pull him back to the ground.
“C’mon, holmes, get off the car! We ain’t playin’ wit’cha!”
They dragged him off the tow truck, Alfonso screaming a litany of threats and insults in both English and Spanish. He shoved the fat man away from him, and someone else rammed him into the tow truck. Alfonso grunted and was struck with dizziness. He stayed right there just long enough for the car to be brought the rest of the way onto the tow truck.
“C’mon, esé, c’mon, ya gotta give me some more time,” Alfonso said. His heart raced. He didn’t like begging, especially not in front of a bunch of gringo rednecks, but he didn’t have a choice. “You don’t understand, I gotta have that car-“
One of the bikers, a dusky-skinned fellow with a neck tattoo of Gothic lettering, stepped forward and grinned. He casually slapped Alfonso on the cheek a couple times, not in a violent way, more like a chummy friend. He chuckled. “Then, esé, you should’a paid ya bills,”
“Man, come on…”
Alfonso kneeled and buried his face in his hands. Obviously this wasn’t going to work. He knew it looked like he was crying — which he wasn’t — but he needed to concentrate to come up with a plan. He heard the tow-truck guys snickering amongst each other, and Alfonso had to fight against the urge to go punch them.
His muscles flexed because he wanted to start a fight, like his body was already working itself up for combat even as his mind told himself no. This was how he lost his temper. Back in school, that happened all the time, and he kept getting in trouble. Being an independent adult living on his own had mostly cured him of his temper problems. It was just on certain occasions like these he found it difficult once again to control his anger.
There were people looking at him. Alfonso hated being humiliated like this. His blood ran hot and cold, his toes curling. He felt like his head would explode. He wanted to shout at all these people to get back in their houses, that this was none of their business, that they should fuck off or he would kick their asses.
But it was important to be focused on what mattered — Alfonso was going to need rides into work. He needed to save enough money to catch up on his payments. He was going to need to do some extra work somehow to make more cash.
Would he have to do something illegal? Alfonso hoped not. Tyrell would definitely hire him to sling pills, but that was not a viable way to make money, not really. He’d be lucky to make ten bucks a day doing that.
Of course there were other drugs he could sell. The only dealer he knew was Tyrell, and the only drug Tyrell dealt was lorazepam. But Alfonso had connections. His friend Enrique knew a coke dealer. Some of the guys at his job did steroids.
Could he really sell hard drugs? Alfonso didn’t want to do anything illegal. But he couldn’t think of any legal way to make a lot of money in a hurry. He was going to need a couple thousand dollars to get his car back, and if he didn’t do it in thirty days, the car would be auctioned off. If that happened — and this was the part that made him furious — Alfonso would still owe all that money. He’d be out of the car, but he’d still have to make payments on it until it was paid off, and he’d owe money to the tow company as well.
There was one person watching whom Alfonso could sense was still there, even as the others left. His eyes drilled into Alfonso’s skull, making him intensely aware of the man’s existence. Alfonso lifted his head out of his hands. Sure enough, he was still there.
He had caught Alfonso’s eye before, during the argument with the tow-truck guys, because he was probably not from this neighborhood — he wasn’t Latino, and this area was almost all Peruvians. The stranger stood out on the street, near the bus stop — though he faced the wrong way to meet the bus.
He watched Alfonso. The stranger was mid-thirties, black, tall, wearing a plain brown shirt and pants. He looked like a businessman on casual Friday (though it was Thursday), Alfonso thought, complete with a thick mustache and a no-nonsense glare to his deep, brown eyes. The black man had a solid, glaciery way of carrying himself, like nothing mattered but what he was doing, which was nothing, and therefore, nothing mattered.
Alfonso stood, looking in his direction nonchalantly so he didn’t attract attention. The strange black man approached him then.
“Hey. Alfonso? Alfonso Cornejo?”
Alfonso nodded and narrowed his eyes to slits. He was still hostile and upset, so without thinking about it, he glared menacingly at the stranger. He flexed his ropy-muscled, tattooed chest. He wished his cock had flopped back out the fly of his boxers again because it was big.
“I need some help with a job,” the black man said. “If you come with me and work for the day, I’ll make your car payments. I’ll get you all caught up. You’ll be able to get your car out of the impound lot. Today, son.”
“Really?”
The man nodded. Alfonso hesitated. He assumed this job, whatever it was, was unpleasant. He wouldn’t be offering that much money to someone desperate if it wasn’t bad. But Alfonso had done some terrible jobs before, scrubbing toilets, getting up at five o’clock every morning, working outside in the freezing cold all winter.
“What is it?”
“Can’t tell you now. Come get in my truck,” He gestured to a large black truck parked out on the street. It looked like a work truck but it didn’t have any markings on it. “My name’s Nelson.”
“Uh-huh.” Alfonso decided to say yes, but he had difficulty bringing himself to actually say that. Aside from being fearful at what the job was, Alfonso was embarrassed to agree like this. No one but some desperate loser and punk would ever agree to a job he knew nothing about from a stranger he didn’t know. Was he really going to get in a truck with some strange man?
If he was a gringo, Alfonso might have said no. But he thought he could handle a middle-aged black weirdo. Nelson checked him out, looking him up and down. Alfonso preferred to assume that Nelson was simply checking out how strong he was, to be sure he could do the job. Alfonso made a bicep and Nelson squeezed it. Alfonso hoped this job was something difficult and arduous but simple, like building a deck (but nobody would hire just one person for that). Nelson grunted like that was satisfactory but didn’t move.
“Well? Come on, if you’re coming on. I got work clothes for you,” Nelson said. He didn’t wait for Alfonso, he just turned around and went towards the street.
Alfonso followed him to the truck. He sighed. It’s just a job, he reminded himself. “What is it? Where you gonna take me? What kinda work clothes you got? Do I need my ID? I ain’t got my wallet.”
Nelson got behind the wheel. Alfonso wanted to refuse to go anywhere until he got some answers. But the prospect of making enough to get his car back today was enticing. He desperately wanted that. He could spend today doing whatever this was and then not have to worry about it anymore. That was preferable to spending the next month hustling up enough money to rescue his car from the impound lot. No matter what the job is, he thought, he could do it for a day.
He got in the passenger seat. Nelson drove off, with the radio off too, which was disconcerting to Alfonso, who never drove in a quiet vehicle. He could hear every rumble of the truck’s engine. He heard Nelson’s heavy breathing, which sounded almost sexual. Alfonso shuddered but hid his discomfort.
This was all happening so fast, he thought. He’d only been out of bed for a half-hour or so. “What kinda work you got for me?” he asked when the silence had become unbearable.
“Hmmm…” Nelson turned to grin at him as he pulled to a stop at a red light. It was still early in the morning so there were few cars on the road. “It ain’t exactly work. I thought we could play a bit.” He paused, then placed one of his big meaty hands on Alfonso’s flat belly.
Alfonso’s six-pack rippled as Alfonso groaned and leaned his head back. He shut his eyes.
“You don’t wanna do it?” Nelson asked.
Alfonso didn’t say anything. He shut his eyes more tightly. “I ain’t, y’know, I ain’t some punk or nothin’. But, y’know…-“
“Nobody said nothin’ ‘ccusatory. I just wanna get my nut off, and I don’t wanna muck about with some female. You just know she gonna talk my ear off, right? Prolly make me take her out to dinner at some fancy restaurant. Who got time for that, huh?” His hand roamed up and down Alfonso’s body.
“Man…”
“You wanna go back home? I take you back now if’n you want,” Nelson said. “And I’ll even give you five bucks to pay you for these couple minutes wit’ me so far.” He handed over a five-dollar bill.
Alfonso took it. “I mean… I ain’t touchin’ yo’ dick, you know that, right? I ain’t into… I mean, as long as it’s me gettin’ my dick wet, you know. It ain’t wrong to get jacked off by some pasivo. Ya feel me?”
“I do. I feel you very well,” Nelson said. He chortled as his hand slipped down to Alfonso’s crotch. He pulled his long, uncut cock out through the fly of his boxers.
Alfonso sucked in his breath, and he wrinkled his nose at Nelson’s callused hand stroking his dick. He wished Nelson was a young man. Instead, it felt like getting pawed over by a grandpa.
“You okay?”
Alfonso scoffed like that was a stupid question. “I can handle some… man strokin’ my dick,” he said. He had to cut himself off to avoid calling Nelson something rude. He closed his eyes again.
“You ever done this before?” Nelson asked. He was driving again, on the highway now. He kept one hand on the steering wheel while his other hand lazily stroked Alfonso’s half-hard dick.
“Yeah. I’m from Peru, we always get our dick wet, esé. So yeah, I get li’l punks to jack me off all the time.” Alfonso didn’t further explain that he’d only ever let them do it when he was very drunk. He was much less comfortable in this situation, in the truck of a large, older stranger who wasn’t part of Alfonso’s culture or neighborhood.
“Uh-huh.” Then he got off the highway. Nelson had to use both hands for that, and when he was on a side street, he drove quickly into the used-car dealership where Alfonso had purchased the car. There were two lots nearby, one wide open (full of cars available for sale), and the other was behind a fence (full of cars that had been repossessed or were in need of repairs before being placed out for sale). The dealership’s office wouldn’t be open for nearly two hours, but this was where Nelson would have to pay Alfonso’s delinquent bill.
He parked in a rear part of the lot, where it wasn’t obvious if he was parked for the impound lot or for the restaurant supply store next door. They shared a parking lot, but both stores appeared to be closed this early.
“Alright, vato, you lookin’ kinda horny. You horny?”
Nelson put one hand on Alfonso’s stomach, and his other on his dick. He had to awkwardly crane his body to the side to face him. Alfonso still leaned back in his seat, eyes closed. He brought one of his arms to his face to further cover his face.
“Huh? You horny?” Nelson gave Alfonso’s dick a good long stroke, slow as anything.
“Not exactly…” Alfonso grunted. “I can bust a nut anytime though. My chicas always say that. They say my dick get hard too easy, ya feel me?”
“Uh-huh.” Nelson leaned over and popped the tip of Alfonso’s dick into his mouth. Alfonso groaned. His cock was only a bit hard at this point. Alfonso wasn’t even aware of that because he was hyperfocused on his own nervousness. That was good, because if he was aware that he hadn’t gotten hard, he might have become even more anxious and unable to perform.
A long low moan with a baritone rumble to it escaped from Nelson’s mouth. Nelson laughed around the cock in his mouth, which rubbed through the dense bristly hairs of Nelson’s mustache.
Nelson thought it was cute to watch guys struggle to get hard, eyes alternating between scrunching tightly shut and opening wide as they watched it finally happen. That was what happened now. Alfonso peered underneath his arm just in time to see his dick fully stiffen up as Nelson deep-throated him. Alfonso could feel pleasure in his dick, but for now, it seemed distant and dim, like it was happening to someone else and Alfonso had some strange connection to it he couldn’t explain.
But Alfonso found it hard to look away because it felt better with every passing moment, as he became less and less nervous with it. A jolt of pleasure shot up his spine, and he bit his lip.
“Shit, esé…” Alfonso hoped that sounded more confident than it felt in his mind.MenWhen the bracing taste of precum hit Nelson’s tongue, he knew it was time to move on. Alphas getting jacked off by a man had a way of cumming suddenly and without warning — sometimes it took a surprisingly long time, some times it was a surprisingly short time. Nelson theorized that that was because they paid more attention to their own feelings than the physical sensations, and they weren’t used to a purely physical orgasm, so it hit them by surprise.
“You ready to stick me, nigga?” Nelson asked. He kissed Alfonso on the neck and Alfonso gulped.
“I mean… Yeah,” Alfonso said. His voice had a nervous quaver to it, but he tried to hide it — a real man, he thought, should be comfortable with his dick, even if it was downlow.
The cab of the truck was too small to do it easily, but Nelson thought that was one of the charms of messing around in here. He always thought it was more fun to have some limitations of that sort. If he was in a plain old bedroom, for example, he’d have simply bent over and invited Alfonso to plow in.
But that wasn’t an option. Alfonso had to help, to get out of the way so Nelson could take his pants down — which meant his bare black ass jutted up and into Alfonso’s face. Alfonso backed away in horror as though he might accidentally give Nelson a rimjob if he got too close to it.
Nelson chuckled and waved his ass in front of Alfonso’s face, then he lowered his hips so that he was crouched overtop of Alfonso’s crotch. He would have to sit, crammed into Alfonso’s lap.
“Ah, oh… shit, esé, uh… can’t we, like… Yo, can we get in the back?”
“We’ll be seen,” Nelson said. He smirked. “These windows are tinted, nobody can see us up here. Besides, it’s cold out there, and I’ve got the heat on in here.”
“Oh…” Alfonso didn’t really like letting Nelson be on top. It would have been fine if Nelson was slim and feminine. Alfonso could have forcibly put him in a good position (which Alfonso defined as any position in which he didn’t have to see Nelson’s cock, balls, body hair, head hair, mustache or the distinctly masculine shape to his hips). Alfonso would have had plenty of room, and Nelson would have done anything he said.
Instead he could do little more than sit there, arms hovering above his head because he couldn’t put them anywhere else without accidentally touching Nelson’s firm body. Alfonso closed his eyes again as he felt his cock slip into Nelson’s tight asshole.
This time, he couldn’t deny that it felt good. It actually felt almost exactly like a woman’s ass. He would never admit that, but it was true — all that stuff he thought would make it impossible to get hard with Nelson turned out not to matter: he barely noticed the kinky black hairs of Nelson’s ass once he got in there, and with his eyes closed, he didn’t pay any attention to the shape of Nelson’s well-muscled back.
It really did feel good, he thought, but he wanted to hide it. Alfonso grunted like he struggled to stay hard.
But his grunt turned into a gasp. Nelson sunk all the way down on his cock, grinding his hips, rubbing to each side. He leaned over and kissed Alfonso right on the lips. A long low moan came from Nelson’s scratchy throat.
That part Alfonso didn’t mind so much — it was normal in Peruvian culture to kiss one’s bottom.
It still felt weird, however, because Nelson was on top of him, because he moaned into his mouth with a densely masculine, gravel-coated voice and because his scratchy mustache rubbed over Alfonso’s upper lip. It was hard to pretend he was with a woman with Nelson’s tongue in his mouth.
His hands gripped Nelson’s hips. Alfonso now opened his eyes wide. He could feel an orgasm hitting him, and he shouted, the sound resonant in the tiny cab of the truck. He was shocked at his own self for gripping Nelson’s meaty, hairy hips. He would have thought he’d be grossed out by it.
But he found no real reluctance in himself to hold Nelson’s body as he pistoned his hips up. He slammed into Nelson’s ass so hard Nelson grunted and bumped his head on the roof.
“Shit!” Alfonso moaned, hands clawing at Nelson’s back.
“Goddamn, vato!” Nelson shouted with a tense chuckle. He leaned himself back, all the way onto Alfonso’s cock, as he sprayed his own wad onto the dash of his truck. The smell of jizz bloomed in the stuffy cab.
“Hell yeah, man!” Alfonso held Nelson deep on his dick. An orgasm finally exploded within him. He had felt it coming, but then it hit him as a surprise, his mind still focused on his shock at touching Nelson’s body without being nervous or grossed out by it. He was glad that none of his friends were around — they would be impressed if he had ramrodded a male this hard, but they’d tease him forever for plowing a bigger, older man in exchange for money.
But he was also glad he did it. Aside from the financial benefit, it just felt good, Alfonso thought as bliss flowed through his veins and he let out a long, crooning sigh. His hands gripped Nelson’s skin tightly, then loosely, then they both fell to the seat beneath him.
“Shit, esé…”
“Hmm… fill me up, son,” Nelson said with a moan.
Cum flowed into him, great creamy gobs of it that flowed through his body and trickled into every corner of his flesh. It was warm and creamy and inviting, and Nelson wished it could have lasted forever.
But alas, it didn’t. Nelson sighed, remaining deeply ensconced on Alfonso’s ass until every last drop had snuck out. He craned his head back to kiss Alfonso again, first on the lips, then on his cheeks, his mustache rubbing against Alfonso’s early morning scruff.
“Goddamn, son,” Nelson said. He chuckled and gave Alfonso a peck on the lips. “That was good enough you could-a talked me into buyin’ you a new car.”
“Really? I-“
“Nah, nah, nah, no, man, no,” Nelson said. He shook his head, mustache quivering. “Nah, I was just kiddin’, I wouldn’t do that. If I did, it’d just be a new used car that ain’t no better than the one you got. Nah, nah, don’t even try that.”
“Oh.” Alfonso wanted to argue, but it was hard to concentrate with his limp dick still in Nelson’s ass. His orgasm was over, but aftershocks still hit him, making him writhe and grunt beneath Nelson’s heavy body.
When Nelson finally slipped off him, every inch of his dick emptying from him sent a new wave of post-orgasmic pleasure running through his body. He sighed and slapped Nelson’s ass with a cocky chuckle. He thought that would make him feel tough again, but that only lasted a moment before he looked down in time to see his dick plop out, followed by a giant puddle of cum that slopped onto his shaft.
Alfonso gagged at the sight. He hurried to grab the pile of napkins on the dashboard, and he wiped his dick off. “You best pay up, esé.”
“I will,” Nelson said. He sighed and slipped into the driver’s seat. Somebody else was just parking nearby and heading over to the impound lot’s front office. Nelson watched them go. “Looks like we’re just in time. I’ll go pay your bill right now. You wanna stick around? You can drive yourself home…” He chuckled dryly. “Nevermind, I’ll take you home first so you can get ya clothes and ya keys and shit. Then I’ll pay the bill and you can drive your car home.”
“Yeah, cool, esé,” Alfonso said. He cleared his throat as Nelson drove off.
This had gone well enough that Alfonso was beginning to wonder if he could set this up again. Maybe he could make some extra money on the side for a long time to come. Maybe, he thought, this guy could make his car payment every month.
“You okay?”
Alfonso nodded. “You, uh… do this a lot, esé?”
Nelson shrugged. “Now and then.”
“Cuz, uh… I’ll be around next month, and I’ll have another car payment to make…”
Nelson smiled. He patted Alfonso on the back when he got back into the parking lot. “Sorry, vato, I’m movin’ on after this,” he said. “Go’n get ya clothes. Maybe we could play a bit more today. I got some cash burnin’ a hole in my pocket. But when I move on, I’ll be gone.”

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.”