The Groomsmen

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

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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

The 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.