body odor – Mansploitation

Floormates in the Dark

Avery is left in the dorm over spring break with the hunky exchange student Federico. He expected to share the building with Federico… but soon enough, they’re sharing a bed! Can Avery learn to appreciate Federico’s exotic ways?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Earlier today, Avery had realized that the only other of his floormates to be in the building right now was Federico. At the time, Avery just sighed and shook his head — he knew that Federico would come over and annoy him sooner or later.
That’s because Federico was an Italian exchange student and a star on the GHU soccer team. He came from Venice, where (he said) his father was a well-known local politician. He was a big burly foreigner with a hairy chest — like a seriously hairy chest, like he was a werewolf, so hairy the other floormates couldn’t imagine why he didn’t shave it— a loud voice and many annoying habits. Avery didn’t want to be rude, but he really did not want to spend the day with Federico.
So when Avery awoke to find that Federico was in his room in the middle of the night, he was angry. Federico had been following him around. First he was trying to get Avery to lift weights with him; Federico did that every morning and acted like it was a scandal when Avery said he never lifted weights. Then Federico wanted to eat dinner with him — Federico had crackers, cured meats and a slab of some stinky cheese, which Avery steadfastly refused to eat. It stank up this entire floor of Mannheim House and probably other floors too. Lastly Federico walked to the shower stark naked and stood in Avery’s doorway talking to him in thickly accented English about the weather.
His fat prick just dangled there between his legs, drawing Avery’s gaze to it. Avery gulped, trying to hide his stare. He had wondered if Federico was trying to turn him on.
Federico had been walking around the dorm naked most of the semester. It was normal for him in all-male environments, or so he said. He was shocked that Americans didn’t feel the same way. Back in Italy, he said, men weren’t worried about seeing each other naked — it was normal, and only squeamish losers got worked up over it. The RA had insisted he wear clothes to and from the shower though, and Federico had grudgingly complied.
But apparently Federico had interpreted that rule as applying only when the RA was actually here in Mannheim House. So now that it was the first day of spring break, he stood there in Avery’s doorway with his fat, uncut cock laying greasily against his thigh. Avery gulped.
Avery was only here during spring break because he was a team manager for the PE department, and they were practicing this week. Federico was here because he was an exchange student and couldn’t afford to go home for Spring Break.
“We could doing fun, we have entire floor to usselves, floormate-uh,” Federico said. Someone had jokingly called him a floormate back in September, and Federico had needed an explanation of what it meant and how to use -mate as a suffix. Federico thought it was great and had been calling everyone ‘floormate’ all semester. Federico cackled as Avery blushed, trying to ignore the bare cock beckoning Avery’s eyes.
Avery had simply declined to hang out. He said he had to study, which was technically accurate even if Avery had no intention of doing so. Avery ignored Federico’s irritated expression. He felt bad about rejecting Federico, who had been struggling to make friends in America, but he turned Avery off.
So when Avery woke up in the middle of the night to see that Federico had crept into his room, he was both scared and annoyed. What did Federico want with him? Light from the hall flooded the room while the door was open, but that lasted only a moment before Federico pulled it shut.
Avery was groggy at first, and he didn’t fight back when Federico told him to move over. Avery made room on the bed. The smell of Federico’s exotic cologne filled the room, while under it was a note of body musk and stale sweat. Federico must have worked out this evening. The other guys on this floor — their floormates — complained that Federico always smelled like a barrel of armpits. Avery agreed with that conclusion, but he didn’t complain. He liked the smell, but he didn’t tell anyone that.
Then Federico lay down in the narrow dorm bed alongside Avery, who gasped in shock at the realization that Federico was naked. His hairy body slid under the covers, pushing Avery against the wall. Federico was much bigger than Avery so he took up most of the bedspace.
“Hello, good night, eh, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His smooth, silken accent was deep and booming, echoing in the dorm room and in Avery’s ears. It made Avery shudder as a torrent of emotions washed over him. He couldn’t believe Federico wanted to share a bed with him. Was this normal in Italy?
“Federico, what are you doing?!” I-” Avery exclaimed, stopping only when Federico kissed him right on the lips.
Every part of Avery’s mind told him to continue, to kiss Federico on the lips and make out with him all night. But a part of Avery also wanted to tell him to leave, to remind him that he was a dickhead and that Avery wanted nothing to do with him.
Yet Avery didn’t do that. He stayed right where he was. For some reason as soon as he felt Federico’s broad, strapping chest muscles and his strong tongue pushing into Avery’s mouth, Avery didn’t want to fight him, nor did he want to fight against this experience. He just wanted to kiss Federico until there was no more kissing left to be had.
Avery’s petite fingers grabbed at Federico’s toned chest, while their tongues interlocked in Avery’s mouth. This was all happening so fast, Avery was left reeling, dizzy and full of surging desire.
There was something intense and arousing about kissing Federico on his soft lips. He was powerful and dominant, his corded muscle chest writhing atop Avery’s body. Avery’s skin wasn’t perfectly smooth, but compared to the dense layer of fur atop Federico’s chest, Avery seemed as smooth as a porcelain doll.
“No girls aredhere, eh,” Federico said. He hung his head sadly. “I went for a walk, eh, none of girls, eh.”
“Yeah. The campus is shut down, Federico. We’re not even really supposed to be here,” Avery said. That was true. They had to get special permission to stay here after the campus closed for the vacation. Federico couldn’t go back to Italy for just one week, and Avery had told the college he had no family to go home to (not technically true, but Avery didn’t want to go home). The GHU administration pushed him very hard to find a friend or family to stay with for the night, but Avery had refused — he paid top dollar for this dorm, and he wanted to use it.
“Federico…”
His hands moved of their own accord, gripping Federico’s back. He was a very hairy man, especially for someone so young, but his back was smooth and unblemished, a milky brown color, though in the dark, Avery couldn’t see anything except for Federico’s shadowy face. He had a dense beard which scratched at Avery’s scruffy face as they kissed.
Avery understood now why women liked Federico so much. The other guys on this floor often joked about that — to them, Federico was weird, almost effeminate yet offensively macho, hard to understand, both a prettyboy and a stinky alpha, and he had nice hair. His hair put theirs to shame.
But now, in this dorm room at night, Avery squirmed under Federico’s warm body and he let out little gasps that were swallowed up by Federico’s kisses, and Avery understood what women found alluring about him. He moved with such passion, his lips and his hands exploring Avery’s body and appreciating every inch of him, while Federico’s own body was toned and muscular, firm to the touch yet soft and pliable, exuding waves of warmth that Avery ensconced himself within.
He wished the dorm room was cold, so he could cuddle up with Federico like a loyal dog.
“Sssh…” Federico said. “You do not need to be embarrassed, it is okay-uh.” He reached behind himself, where he wrapped his fingers around Avery’s cock — he had to stick his hand under Avery’s boxer shorts. He gave it a stroke. Just one stroke, but somehow it was enough. It sent a little electric tingling sensation up Avery’s body.
Avery was too nervous to get hard. Federico just kept stroking. It was only when Avery’s hands roamed from Federico’s rippling back to his furry chest that Avery felt a surge of energy in his cock. It got hard and jabbed straight up in the air, throbbing beneath Federico’s touch.
“Good. You are a real man, eh, do not be embarrass-uh,” Federico said. He mounted Avery’s chest, the thick nest of hair around his balls and cock dragging along Avery’s smooth skin.
Avery realized with a nervous, anticipatory giggle that Federico intended for Avery to swallow his cock. He stroked Avery’s dick as he brought his own cock up to Avery’s mouth. Its silhouette loomed in the dark in front of Avery’s face.
“What, uh… what are you doing?”
“I am to be putting my penis into your mouth,” he said, cocking his head to the side and frowning as though Avery should have known that. He aimed his rock-hard, uncut cock towards Avery’s mouth, and the tip touched his lip. That was enough to taste the musty warmth of his manhood, and Avery chased the tip with his tongue. Federico kept his dick away. “Do not be embarrass. I will not tell anyone, eh, it is low to down.”
“You mean downlow?”
“Yes! Downlow. Dat is correct and factual,” Federico said. He beamed like he was a detective who had just solved a case. He finally let Avery put his mouth on his cock, but just barely, Federico keep it far enough away that Avery got only a teasing taste of the tip. Federico moaned like he was in pleasure even though Avery was only barely touching him. “I am bigger, eh, so you will be a passivo on me. You have nice big mouf, and no beard to touch me in the penis or dick, eh, si, I do not like beard hair.”
“Uh… are you going to get me off too?”
Federico paused. “No. I am bigger-uh dan you. Bigger men do not do so in Italy. I am only to top, eh, it is your position to do it wit’ your mouf-uh. You will lick my dick now, eh, si?”
Avery opened his mouth. Federico took Avery’s open mouth as an agreement and aimed his cocktip right for his wiggling tongue and his tight throat. Avery couldn’t deny that he was eager now to swallow Federico’s girthy Italian cock.
He was disappointed this wasn’t going to be reciprocated though. He thought that was what “downlow” meant. Maybe not. In any case, Federico didn’t even know that word, much less abide by it.
Regardless, Avery was eager to taste that cock, to swallow it as deep as he could and worship it until he tasted Federico’s creamy seed. Avery let his mouth fill with Federico’s dick.
It was only half-hard, but it was very big so it felt hard right away. Then it got harder and harder as Avery choked on its massive, salty head. It tasted both good and bad, but Avery was focused on the savory flavor and the sensation of desire that erupted in him now that he was tasting cock. It tasted clean and fleshy and it pulsated like an alien creature in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled on the moisture that leaked out of the tip. That foreskin felt like so much extra flesh Avery wondered if it was normal — he hadn’t been with very many uncircumcised men before.
“Yes, you are good, Aver-uh. Very good-uh. I am approving,” Federico said with a groan and a moan, his whole body rippling above Avery.
As Avery licked, Federico continued to jack Avery off, reaching behind himself to do so. He didn’t stroke it so much as hold on and let Avery move his hips, so Avery humped his hand while Federico acted like he didn’t even notice what was happening behind him. Federico’s attention was aimed squarely at his crotch, where his cock disappeared down Avery’s throat. He moaned and crooned like he was trying to seduce Avery, who vacillated between finding the sounds disgusting and alarming and finding them arousing and charming. He rubbed Avery’s face with his thumb and stroked his lips, gently but firmly pushing Avery’s mouth open as wide as it could go.
Then the hand jacking Avery off roamed down to his balls. Federico played with them very briefly before rubbing the taint between Avery’s balls and his ass. Avery’s flesh was very sensitive there, and the touch made Avery shudder with desire. His finger moved lower and lower, closer to Avery’s ass.
“You are nice with the mouth,” Federico said. His accent was thicker now that he was aroused, and his cock pulsated in Avery’s throat. Drops of precum hit his tongue, flooding his senses with the intense saltiness and savory flavor of his manhood. Avery’s hands roamed up his chest and tweaked his nipples, which made his pecs ripple each time he did it. Then Avery’s hands moved around Federico’s chest to his back and his smooth ass, firm like a pair of overinflated soccer balls.
Before Avery could do anything else, Federico’s finger pushed into his ass, pushing past Avery’s resistance, making Avery’s whole body tense up. The finger entering him sent a shiver of pain up Avery’s spine, but also a shudder of intense pleasure. He lifted his legs up — again his body acted on instinct even as his mind told him not to — and spread his own asscheeks to give Federico better access to it.
Then Federico pulled his cock away from Avery’s mouth. Thick gobs of saliva connected his lips to Federico’s shaft, until Avery’s hand tentatively stroked that massive meat. He had never felt anything like it, he thought, hot and spasming beneath his fingers, precum dripping in milky rivulets down the shaft, coating his foreskin and Avery’s fingertips. Avery groaned and Federico moaned.
“You are good at being girl-boy,” Federico said. “And you have nice girl-ass. It is… culo grassoccio.” For some reason when he said culo grassoccio, it made Avery grunt and blush, swooning with desire. Italian, he thought, was such a sexy language. Avery didn’t know what Federico said, but it turned him on.
Avery gave up on getting Federico to reciprocate. He decided to just go with the flow. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so willing to let Federico slam him, but he was — he wanted it more than anything. Federico’s obnoxious personality had faded into the background of his mind. He wanted nothing more than to feel Federico’s cock invade his ass.
“I will do putting in your ass,” Federico said softly. Though his tone was low, his words were loud and expressive, and they hung in the air, resonating in Avery’s ears.
As Avery rolled over onto his belly and stuck his ass in the air, Federico pulled out a tube of lube he had snuck over, Avery recalled Federico’s stunning success with girls. He seemed to be able to seduce any woman, from mousy shy nerds to outgoing cheerleaders, he got them all. It annoyed their other floormates because, to them, Federico was an annoying weirdo who didn’t do anything right. Somehow the girls loved him for it.
Federico was handsome, and American women loved Italian men. But Federico was more than just charming, he was a sexy beast who oozed charisma in his broken English. There was something special there, that was why he was good with girls. He had deep dark eyes that drilled into the soul of whoever he spoke to, and Avery found it hard to look away from him. His voice simmered like a slow soup.
And now he had even seduced Avery, who blushed like a tomato as he lowered his head to the pillow. Federico gently guided Avery’s hips up in the air, so Federico could kneel on his knees while Avery’s ass lined up with with his cock.
“Here I am, entering you now,” Federico whispered, his words echoing in Avery’s ear.
A jolt of pain hit Avery’s backside, but it lasted only a moment before a slow, melting sense of pleasure erupted deep within him. It was so potent that it felt faint, too powerful to be palpable at first, growing slowly over time. But Avery could sense how incredible it would be. If he gave it time to blossom, he thought, it would overwhelm anything.
“Va bene. Va bene, it is good,” Federico said. Avery didn’t know what that meant, but he got the impression it was supposed to be soothing. Avery’s whole body swooned in Federico’s arm as passion enveloped them both. Federico moaned into Avery’s ear, and both men rocked back and forth. Federico’s cock pulsated deep in Avery’s ass.
He was surprised at how little it hurt once Federico got started. He kissed the back of Avery’s neck and rubbed his shoulders as his cock slipped in, centimeter by centimeter.
The pain was still there. It didn’t go away, and it even grew. But it was increasingly overpowered by the intense, throbbing pleasure that made Avery writhe in exquisite agony. Federico pumped his hips more and more powerfully with every passing second, thrusting back and forth up Avery’s behind. Each thrust sent Avery to a new height of pleasure, and Avery couldn’t help but moan out loud.
He had to remind himself he could be as loud as he wanted to be — him and Federico were the only two people on this floor, or even in all of Mannheim House. Avery let his moans of desire grow louder, turning into demands for Federico to ram harder and harder. Federico probably didn’t notice what Avery was saying, as his English seemed to get worse when he was horny.
When Federico leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Avery’s chest, Avery moaned. They kissed there, and for Avery, it could have lasted a lifetime. He had never experienced a kiss like that. With his asshole stretching to accept Federico’s Italian cockmeat, Avery experienced an intense connection between them. He could feel every inch of Federico’s muscle and his powerful cock sliding into him, his bulging muscles and the clean sweat that dappled his skin now.
“You have-uh de beaut-iful-uh bottom, Aver-h…” Federico murmured. The way he said Avery made Avery giggle: vrwaowbbuh. “I will make you feel such pleasure. You will explode onto my hand.”
At last Federico’s hand explored downward. He tweaked each of Avery’s nipples in turn, sending little sparks of bliss through Avery’s body. Avery’s skin puckered, and he gasped when he realized where Federico was going.
Federico’s hand grabbed Avery’s cock. He groaned as though touching Avery’s dick was almost enough to send him over the edge. Avery moaned for the same reason. Avery’s shaft throbbed and spasmed, leaking precum into Federico’s grip.
Again Avery had no idea how long it lasted. His orgasm began from the moment Federico touched his dick. It continued forever, and Avery squirmed within Federico’s grasp. The more he wiggled, the more Federico’s cock moved inside Avery, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, and the more Federico’s breathing sped up as he experienced his own intense orgasmic pleasure.
Avery thought that was it. He didn’t think he could take any more; he didn’t think it was possible to feel more or experience any more intensity shaking his body.
But Federico, it seemed, had other plans. Federico could take Avery to the next level.
And as he began pounding hard onto Avery’s ass, that was exactly what happened. The sensation was so intense that Avery screamed, in shock and pain and bliss and desire and pure, unadulterated lust. He screamed because there was no one on this floor to hear him anyway, so why not?
His muscles turned to jelly. They were weak and insubstantial compared to Federico’s body anyway. Avery just submitted. He would have collapsed onto the mattress but Federico kept him in position, bent over a pillow with his ass in the air.
The prostate orgasm was so intense that Avery couldn’t even feel Federico’s hand on his cock. He was numb all over, and the only feelings he experienced were the muscle-clenching power of his climax.
“Ah, si…” Federico’s moan made the hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stand up.
Cum sprayed into the pillow and mattress beneath him, as Avery came first. He bucked his hips, slamming his ass backwards deep onto Federico’s cock as his thick cumwad hit Federico’s fingers. That didn’t slow Federico down at all, and he cooed like he loved the feeling of semen dripping through his fingers.
As though he had been waiting for Avery to bust first — which was, in fact, precisely what he had done — Federico began pounding harder and faster now that Avery was done. He drew his dick up all the way out of Avery’s ass, then slammed his rod back in all at once.
After just a few more of those power-strokes, Federico began his own orgasm. Avery’s head was still groggy and dazed, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the feeling of white-hot cum spreading within him. It was warm and creamy and it seeped into every corner of Avery’s body.
It was an impossibly big load. Avery didn’t know a human male could shoot something so big, so much milky cum that it spread in gobs within him. It dripped down Avery’s thighs and clung to his fine blond hairs, while plastering Federico’s coarser black hairs to his skin.
“You are prestante…”
Then at last it was done. Federico slowly let his cock plop out of Avery’s ass, and when he did, Avery sighed loudly. He had never experienced an orgasm like that. The feeling of his asshole emptying was like scratching a painful itch that Avery didn’t even know he had had.
He collapsed into a moist, sweaty heap on the mattress. He was too tired to do anything but submit as Federico gently caressed his back muscles. Federico kissed him on the spine, his lips traveling down to Avery’s ass. He just kissed each asscheek one time.
“Tank you, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His velvety voice purred and made Avery desire him all over again.
But Federico just sunk onto the mattress. He wrapped his powerful body around Avery’s. He massaged Avery’s smooth skin and kissed him on the neck. His thick, luxuriant beard scratched at Avery’s face.
“You are very nice-uh,” Federico said. “I was enjoying to be jacking… off… Uh… I am apologizing-uh. I do not remember my English words right now, eh.”
“That’s okay,” Avery said softly. He hadn’t spoken since this started, and now he blushed. He buried his face in Federico’s biceps, blushing as though he wanted to hide even though they were alone in Avery’s dorm room (and alone on this floor, in this building and on this campus as well). Avery licked the clean sweat that stuck to Federico’s muscle.
“I am glad about no girl here tonight,” Federico said. He whispered directly in Avery’s ear, making him shudder as aftershocks of orgasm ran through Avery’s body. “You have nice butt, and your dick was feeling good in my hand, uh. Maybe we will do it again after you come back from spring break, eh, yes?”
“Yes,” Avery blurted out. “We will. We’ll do this again next semester, I’ll find you. Whenever. We’ll find a way. We’ll figure it out. We’re together a lot, so it can’t be that hard. We’re floormates, after all.”
“Indeed. We will find, eh, each odduh,” he said.

The Alpha in a Wifebeater

When a roughneck comes by Avery’s place to ask for money, Avery just might be in for more than he bargained for… a lot more! That’s because this blue-collar stud has got more meat than he knows what to do with.

Luckily Avery knows exactly how to handle this much meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was glad to have the house to himself on Thanksgiving. He was living with his sister, her husband and her two daughters, but they were all away at Avery’s brother-in-law’s parents’s house. Avery was invited but begged it off. He rarely got the whole house to himself, and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Besides that, he didn’t like his brother-in-law’s family, and he didn’t get the impression they liked him much either. So he was alone for the holiday weekend. He couldn’t really complain though, he had a whole apartment above the garage, so he didn’t have to see his nieces at all if he didn’t want to (and there were times he definitely did not want to see the screaming terrors).
But he did love holidays, so he was disappointed that he didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with. Tomorrow, he and a few friends would be having a Friendsgiving after a day of shopping, but that wasn’t really the same thing.
There was a knock on the garage door. Avery was in the main house right now, since he could have it to himself, but he heard someone banging hesitantly on the garage door.
A deep raspy voice called out, “Hello?!”
Avery peered through the window. There was a man standing there. He was underdressed for the weather, in just a wifebeater and camo pants. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and it was very cold for northern California. He shivered. It looked like he hadn’t really given much thought to what he wore in the snow. His massive biceps shook as he trembled in the cold.
He had a shaved head, though a stubble had grown recently, and he had a scruffy beard too. He had a husky build, with muscles bulging out of his wifebeater. He was very tall, carrying himself like a blue-collar worker, Avery thought, maybe a carpenter or plumber. Maybe military. He had a bald eagle tattooed on his heart, just barely visible peeking over the rim of his ragged wifebeater. He looked uncomfortable with his own heft, and Avery was sure he would blush if anyone ever told him how handsome he was. That made Avery want to tell him so.
Avery opened the front door of the house. “Hey,” he said, calling out to the garage where the man knocked.
“Oh, hi, you must be Avery.” He came to the front door and shivered. He looked like he expected to be let in. “I’m Spackle. Albert Spackle, but e’ryone calls me Spackle. I’m Gregory Spackle’s grandson.” He gestured to one of the houses across the way. That made Avery snicker to himself — Mr. Spackle was an elderly redneck who was hilarious in his own little way — his own racist, catankerous and bitter way — Avery could only imagine what Mr. Spackle had told his grandson about him. Spackle smiled nervously. “Can I come in?”
“Uh… Do you… have a reason?” Avery asked. “Sorry, I mean, I don’t know you or anything-“
“No, yeah, I, uh, I guess… I should have expected that. It’s just really cold,” he said. He bit his lip.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Uh… My granddad said you’d be, uh… that you’d get me inside quicker than a… …” He blushed and didn’t finish the analogy. “Well, I guess he ain’t mean it literally, I should’ve… I, uh…” He shivered again and laughed. “It’s never this cold at Thanksgiving, man, I ain’t even bring no long-sleeves back with me. Uh…”
“Yeah, weird weather this year.”
“Look… My granddad… My granddad — I mean, no offense man, you got like, a lisp and a limp wrist and, uh-” Spackle gestured towards Avery.
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. He smiled and threw his hands up. He suspected where Spackle was going with this, but he wanted to make him struggle to get there. Snow continued falling on Spackle’s broad shoulders, dappling his skin with little white flakes that melted instantly.
“Yeah.” Spackle blushed. His deep voice resonated, filling the doorway and echoing around in Avery’s ears. He had that big-guy voice, all dull and flat, draping over Avery like a baritone blanket. “So my granddad said… Look, I’m gonna be honest wit’ you, I got some money problems right now. Okay? It ain’t like… It ain’t, you know, drugs or nothin’ like that. But, uh… my granddad says you… You like, sometimes pay dudes to like… jack them off, or whatever.” His cheeks turned bright red, and he gestured increasingly wildly. “No offense, man,That’s, uh, but I am, like… I am okay, with the whole… thing.”
Avery chuckled. “So your granddad said I’d fall head over heels in love with you and pay you, so you should come over here to make some money? And I’d just open the door for you right away?”
“Well… He ain’t exactly phrase it like a suggestion. He kinda meant it, like… you know, a bad thing, like somethin’… Like he said basically if I was a deadbeat, you know… He said he’s not giving me money and I should just come over here if I’m… You know, if I need money, I should come here and ask you instead of him. He ain’t gonna give me… Well, he’s old-fashioned.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Avery sighed and opened the door. “Your granddad is totally right, by the way. I’ll give you two hundred dollars to cornhole me.”
“Oh hell yeah, okay, finally,” Spackle said. He came in and immediately undid his belt, dropping his pants to his ankles. Only then did he begin to unlace his heavy workboots. Spackle looked a lot more confident now that he was inside.
“Finally?”
“I work at an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, right? And we get leave off in this crapdunk little town called Masquerez, ain’t jack-shit there to do. All the chicks is Mexican and fat. Not a single one is fuckable. I mean, I still fuck ‘em, but I ain’t proud,” he said with a chuckle. His deep voice boomed; he spoke loudly, like he was used to being on an oil rig where engines constantly whirred. As he removed his boots with his pants around his ankles, his arms bulged and his pecs rippled beneath his wifebeather, which was ripped and stained with layers of grease and industrial lubricant. “And uh… me and my buddies Eddie and Dog and Raffy — he’s from Jamaica — and we all heard this rumor ‘bout this dude who pays money for it, y’know, for swallowin’ dick. And we spent all fucking night chasing this dude, never found him, man. We found one Mexican who ain’t speak no English and he got even less money than me, so we ain’t cornhole him.” He leaned back and wiggled his toes. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. He grabbed the remote control. “You got porn on here?”
“Prolly not. This is my sister’s place. I doubt her husband dares to keep porn in here,” Avery said. “And I bet he’s into something gross like diapers.”
“Ew, nasty,” Spackle said with a chuckle. He burped, settling back on the couch — looking ridiculous in his holey socks and wifebeater, which he seemed to have forgotten he was still wearing. His pants lay crumpled up on the floor beside the couch. “Sorry if that weren’t romantic.” He flicked through the channels and eventually found some hip hop music video channel that was nearly softcore porn. “So, uh… I dunno how you do it. I mean, I know… like the gist of it. But I dunno what to do.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out,” Avery said. He sunk between his knees in front of Spackle.
“Oh, I should shower first, man, you don’t wanna jerk me off yet,” Spackle said. He chuckled. He sniffed his armpit and wrinkled his nose. “I smell rank, sorry, man.” He was about to take off his wifebeater finally, but Avery stopped him.
“What? No. You are way off,” Avery said. “I love dirty guys.”
“Ew, why?”
“The smell,” Avery said with a smile. He dove his face into Spackle’s armpit, the same one he had sniffed and found wanting. It was disgusting, he was right about that. It was slick with sweat — Spackle’s grandparents kept their house at a sweltering temperature, which was why he had been wearing just that wifebeater and shorts until he put on pants to come over here. So Spackle had been sweating since he got to the house late last night.
His armpit was so wet it was like he had just taken a shower, though the smell proved he hadn’t. Avery also tasted snow that lingered on his muscles.
Avery kissed up Spackle’s arm from his pit, inhaling the filth of his wifebeater as he went. He had tattoos on his arm, a silhouette of a naked woman, an iron cross, a network of barbed wire, and Avery licked an outline of each one. Spackle watched him with a wry smile like he might watch a child explore something mundane. His muscles were stiff, too nervous at being licked like a cat to relax.
Then Avery kissed his shoulder and the lower side of his neck, where a climbing ivy tattoo extended up to his ear. Avery’s hands snaked under his wifebeater and teased his nipples. As soon as Avery’s tongue and lips touched Spackle’s scruffy neck, Spackle’s whole body tensed even more. Avery knew he had made a mistake.
“Ugh…” Spackle sucked in his breath like he was thinking of hitting Avery for kissing him on the neck — that was almost like a real kiss, perilously close to his lips. That was too much for Spackle. He sucked in his breath and grunted.
Avery’s heart skipped a beat. Spackle was huge and bulky and possibly violent. He was a roughneck. Avery wasn’t sure how’d respond. He should not have tried to kiss his neck.
But Spackle just placed one heavy hand on Avery’s head. He gently but firmly pushed him down.
He chuckled nervously and pointed to a spot about a third of the way up his neck — he was very muscular, so he didn’t really have much of a neck. He pointed to just above his shoulders. “You can kiss me up to here, man. No higher than that. We ain’t makin’ out. No hickeys neither. I can’t explain that to my mama.”
“Okay,” Avery said. Spackle breathed a sigh of relief like he thought his rule might have been a dealbreaker for Avery.
Avery didn’t mind. He liked pushing alphas to their limits. He took off his own clothes as he sucked on Spackle’s wifebeater-clad chest and shoulders, below the limit. Spackle was hairy and dusty, and he was tense wherever Avery kissed. Spackle’s skin puckered underneath Avery’s lips.
“Ah… Damn,” Spackle said. He blushed a bright red. “Man, this shit is crazy. I ain’t know it was gonna be like this.” He shifted his weight on the couch. “I mean… they said that dude in Texas, man, he was… It was like a gloryhole thing. Supposedly. You ain’t gotta look at him or nothing. He ain’t lickin’ ya nipples. Shit’s crazy.”
“You like blowjobs from women, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah.”
“You want me to just go straight to swallowing your cock?”
He snorted and chuckled. He whipped his cock out the fly of his tattered brown boxers. He thwacked its limp shaft around, battering Avery’s shoulder with it. He licked his teeth.
“Hell yeah, man, fuck,” Spackle said. He bit his lip, smiling as he thwacked his dick on Avery’s face. “You deepthroat? Ain’t no girls deepthroat no more.”
Avery giggled. He stuck his finger down his throat to demonstrate. He got it way down there before gagging. Spackle lowered his eyes and breathed deeply. His cock twitched.
“Ah yeah, man, like that,” Spackle said, his voice rumbling like he had to force himself not to attack Avery’s throat right now. His muscles flexed under his wifebeater.
“I’ll let you facefuck me,” Avery said. “If you let me get you hard with a little jousting.” Avery giggled.
Spackle laughed a deep barrel laugh. He covered his face with his hands. “Okay, but I’m puttin’ a time limit. One minute, man. If I don’t get hard in one minute, you put it in your mouth. Ain’t no way I’m gonna get hard touchin’ a dick. No offense.”
“None taken.” Avery knew that Spackle was probably right. Avery didn’t care. The point wasn’t to actually get him hard. Avery would just enjoy trying.
Avery kneeled in front of Spackle, who was still sprawled out on the cushions. Avery thwacked his own hefty cock against Spackle’s, and when he did, Spackle’s whole body jerked. Spackle’s eyes were closed, one hand covering his face. He groaned and giggled like a boy. He covered his eyes with both arm.
“Ah, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he said. His voice was muffled by his arms. “That’s nasty…”
“You ever touch cocks with another man?” Avery smushed his erection against Spackle’s limpness, while Avery’s hands slipped under his wifebeater to grope his chest.
“Nah… I mean… Maybe kinda.” He laughed again, his anxiety evident in the wavery tone of his voice. His face was covered by his forearms, but even through the gaps in the flesh, Avery could see his dingy face turning red like a cranberry. He giggled so uncontrollably he squealed like a mouse, a very deep-voiced, raspy-throated mouse.
“You okay, Spackle?” Avery asked as he stroked both cocks together. Avery’s was smooth and clean, while Spackle’s was tan, veiny, knobbly, and even had a small faded scar along the top of it, near the root.
“Yeah.” Spackle had to take a deep breath to regain control of himself. He peered through his fingers, but when he saw his cock touching Avery’s, he squirmed and re-covered his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “Nah, it wasn’t nevuh like this.” He paused and bit his lip. “Alright, yeah. One time. Raffy — that’s that Jamaican dude — he was… he had this game. He said it was Jamaican but some other dude googled it and said he saw nothin’ ‘bout it in Jamaica or anywhere else.” He paused and laughed. “I only did it one time. But, uh… He like come up at ya wit’ his big floppy dick, and you… you know, you hit each other’s dicks and shit. Like joustin’ for real, you know? And uh… if you back out cuz his dick hurt ya — and Raffy knows how to do that too, he got a massive rod and he uses it like a fucking club, man, he really gets ya with it. He hits ya in the balls with it. Anyway if it hurts and ya gotta back out, you lose, and if you get hard, you gotta suck his dick.” Avery chuckled. “It’s how Raffy always wanna settle things.”
“You did that?”
Spackle talked more fluidly now, still watching his dick limply rub against Avery’s, but his anxiety over it seemed to have dwindled. “Just one time. That motherfucker was trying to take my towel, man. We was in the shower. He said he just forgot his, he wanna share. I was like, I do a lot of things for my friends, but I ain’t gonna let you wipe ya ass off with my towel and then I’m gonna use it. I’m gonna wipe my face off wit’ ya ass all over my towel? No way, no I ain’t.”
“You won?”
He shrugged. “Kinda. We was still goin’ when my boss came in the shower. He don’t tolerate that shit, so he made us stop.” He paused. “Okay, man, start suckin’.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Avery pulled away from his cock. “On the rig, we got a lotta Africans and shit, Arabs, that kind of thing. They ain’t nice about that kinda shit,” he said. “And Indonesians. We got Indonesians.” He shifted his weight on his asscheeks.
Once the minute was up, Avery stopped jousting — he waited for Spackle to tell him, so it was actually more like three minutes. Spackle’s dick roped around in Avery’s grip and rubbed against Avery’s cock, but when he was done, Avery kissed a trail down Spackle’s chest. He reached his crotch, kissed his cock on the top and then very briefly, chastely, kissed Spackle on the lips. No tongue. Spackle groaned anyway, and before he could complain, Avery swallowed his cock as deep as he could go in one motion.
His cock remained limp at first, as an awkward silence filled the room. Avery wondered if Spackle would even be able to get hard — not all guys could do it, no matter how much money they were offered.
But then finally, Spackle’s dick perked up. It twitched in Avery’s mouth, then got firmer and firmer. Spackle watched like he had never seen this happen before. His eyes were open wide.
“Ah, yeah, yeah, like that,” Spackle said. He moaned like Avery was scratching an itch he hadn’t been able to reach for a long time. He leaned back on the couch. He grabbed his pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Can I smoke in here?”
“No, sorry. It’s my sister’s house. She would literally shit a brick,” Avery said, wiping precum and spit off his chin.
He smiled. “I’d like to see that.” But he did put the cigarettes away, back in the pocket of his workpants on the floor. He shrugged. “I’m trying to quit anyway.”
Avery rammed his head all the way down on Spackle’s cock. He gagged, but he kept his mouth in position, even as his throat clenched and fought against Spackle’s shaft. He choked up spit, while Spackle groaned and grunted.
He was a very loud humper. Spackle kept on making sounds, whirring and hooting at himself, chuckling at jokes only he heard, shifting his weight on the couch. Avery couldn’t tell if he always did it like this or if he just did it because he was nervous. His wifebeater shook as his muscles al l flexed and stayed tense.
“You ready to cornhole me?”
Spackle blushed again. “Yeah, course,” he said. He said it like a macho man, but it was obvious that he was nervous. When Avery bent over his lap with his ass in the air, Spackle sighed with relief. “Damn, thank god, I was worried you’d be hairy. You shave your ass, right? I’m glad girls don’t get hair in their asses.”
“Girls absolutely get hairy asses,” Avery said as he backed his ass towards Spackle’s lap. “They shave.”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way, I swear. Or a lot of them do, anyway. Not all.”
Spackle wrinkled his nose and watched Avery’s ass collide with his erection. “Well… I don’t much like that, they shouldn’t get hair in their asses, man, that’s gross.”
Avery giggled. His ass rubbed against Spackle’s shaft. “I will be sure to inform the Committee to Regulate Female Asses,” he said. Then he shuddered in both pain and pleasure when Spackle’s dick pushed into his asshole.
Spackle gasped. “Aw, fuck, aw, fuck, man, aw, fuck, I don’t even… Aw, fuck…”
“You like that?” Avery asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Spackle groaned, and his whole body rattled. He absent-mindedly lifted his wifebeater as though going to take it off, but then he dropped it and left it on. He held his breath, watching Avery squirm backwards deeper and deeper onto his cock. “Yo, man, yo… I gotta… Yo, man, you, uh… what kinda positions you like?”
Avery found it difficult to concentrate while his ass loosened and adjusted to Spackle’s cock. So he just said, “Any, really. What do you want to try?”
“No big deal, just… no girls ever wanna do this,” he said. “They say it hurts too bad. Man, girls complain a lot. Why don’t you complain?”
“Cuz I like getting it up the ass from dirty guys with big monster dicks,” Avery snapped. “Girls don’t.”
He sniffled. “Fuckin’ bitches…” he said. There was a faint note of pride there, he enjoyed hearing talk about his “monster dick”. He wrapped his arms around Avery’s chest. He rotated so that he laid out on the couch — he was a little too tall, so his feet had to be angled off the edge. Avery struggled to remain atop his cock, but all the extra motion made him horny enough to burst.
Spackle hugged Avery to keep him close, and Avery’s back rubbed against his filthy wifebeater Avery held his breath, trying to endure the awe-striking pressure in his ass. Spackle’s entire cock was in him, throbbing, and since he was mounted on Spackle’s sweat-slippened body, Avery could do little more than slide around on his muscles.
But Spackle wrapped his arms over Avery’s chest, and he even hooked his legs around Avery’s ankles. That pinned Avery on his back on Spackle’s chest and cock. The smell of his unwashed roughneck body was overpowering, like Avery was bathing in his funk.
“This alright, man?” Spackle asked.
“Hell yeah.” Avery’s voice was weak and thready. “Girls are never going to like this position, Spackle. It hurts. I like it because… well, for my own reasons. Don’t bother asking girls to do this.”
He sighed. “I know.” He took a deep breath and started ramming his dick upwards into Avery’s ass. He was quick like it was a race, like he was trying to shatter Avery’s insides. Avery yelped and screamed, in pain at first but then with pleasure flowing through his veins.
Spackle’s cell phone rang. He cursed and answered it, only slowing down a little bit. “It’s my sister,” he said like he didn’t want to talk to her.
He answered it anyway though. “Hey. I’m around. Near the house. None of your business. No. No. No! No! No! You better not!” His cock trembled in Avery’s ass. Spackle breathed heavily but tried to conceal it. He wiped sweat off his brow and smeared it on his wifebeater. “I am not! I don’t even know none the neighbors here. Grandpa is an asshole, I don’t think he was right about that. I’m… at the store! I wanted to pick up a…”
“Bottle of wine.” Avery whispered, struggling to speak with the intense pressure in his ass.
“A bottle of wine! I wanted to get wine for dinner tonight! Yes, I know what wine is! We’re not that barbaric on the oil rig, you know! Oh, you think you know everything? I ain’t a rentboy, shut up!” He hung up the phone. His cock twitched angrily in Avery’s ass. “Fucking bitch. She knows where I am, by the way. If she ever asks, I didn’t come over here. I’ll tell her I dropped the wine and broke it on the way back.”
“I have wine,” Avery said. “You can take a bottle.” His voice was tense, breathless, clipped. He sounded like he was near tears, though he was merely near orgasm instead. “You can leave out the back. You can come out down the street, it’ll look like you’re coming back from the store.”
“Shit, alright, thanks,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I wanna do somethin’ nice for you, but I can’t think of nothin’. Don’t ask for a reacharound, I don’t do that.”
“Take a video of that Jamaican guy. Record yourself thwacking dicks with him. I wanna watch,” he said, ramming without even paying attention to it, like he was just moving on auto-pilot. Avery sighed as his prostate sent wave after wave of pleasure through his body.
Spackle gagged and winced. “Ah…” He smiled. “Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll just tell him it’s for a girl, alright? I’ll say I know a girl who wanna see it.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Avery yelped like a puppy. He at last reached orgasm as Spackle finally began fucking again, triggering Avery’s whole body to tense and send pleasure pounding up his spine. Spackle didn’t notice right away because he was focused on his own cock, which spasmed as his balls drew up in his sac.
Then Spackle moaned in disgust when he saw Avery spray cum over his belly and chest. It covered Spackle’s muscles and matted his wifebeater to his skin. Spackle closed his eyes and muttered a complaint about the cummy smell. “Nasty…”
But it didn’t slow him down any. He groaned right into Avery’s ear. He jackrabbited his cock into Avery’s ass again, so hard and so violently that Avery screamed in both pain and pleasure. His fucking accentuated the orgasmic aftershocks that wracked Avery’s body.
“I’m gonna nut, man, gonna nut, gonna fill you up, aw shit, man aw shit, aw shit!” His voice gradually rose to a plaintive yell.
Hot cum spurted into Avery’s ass. It was a thick, creamy load, even denser and stickier than most. It coated Avery’s ass in warmth, and it kept on going. Avery took a deep breath and savored the feel of looping jets of cum covering his prostate and dripping throughout his body.
Spackle sighed grandly. When Avery moved, Spackle gasped and held Avery’s hips in place. His cock twitched, which made Avery hold back a howl of pain. The movement kept his post-orgasm going, however, and Avery shuddered uncontrollably.
At last Spackle was done. Thick gobs of cum dripped down his shaft and into his pubic hair. He shuddered too, and then he fell limp.
Even when Avery lifted off him, Spackle just sprawled out on the couch. He groaned. He burped again. Avery stretched his legs and grabbed some napkins. He cleaned off Spackle’s cock, which rapidly limpened in Avery’s fingers. Spackle took off his wifebeater, which had Avery’s cum on it.
“Damn,” Spackle said. He sighed. “Do I gotta go back to my family? Can I stay here all day?”
“Fine with me.”
He frowned. “I know. But I can’t. My mama would kill me,” he said. “You’ll still be here tonight?”
“Yes,” Avery said. He went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. He handed it to Spackle.
“Good,” he said. He smiled. “Will you pay me again tonight?”
Avery giggled. “Not five hundred dollars.” He wrote out the check to Thomas Spackle and handed it over. In the memo field, he had written meat, but Spackle didn’t even look at it yet.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry though. We can have fun, and I bet you can make some money one way or another. Maybe not five hundred bucks…” Avery said. Spackle nodded and agreed. He put his pants back on, then offered Avery the cum- and filth-encrusted wifebeater, which was soaked in his sweat. He left through the back door. Avery watched him sneak down the street, then shiveringly walk bare-chested back to his grandfather’s house, carrying the bottle of wine.
Avery took a deep sniff of the musk staining his wifebeater, and he smiled with satisfaction. He hoped Spackle would come back one day soon.

The Scally

Rob is visiting England when he happens upon a studly scally willing to treat him terribly! Can Rob handle the ultra-raunchy man-on-man action Trevor has in store for him?!

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Read the whole thing here!

Rob walked into the parking lot of the Toppenlad Housing Estate, hoping he didn’t look vulnerable. He really wasn’t vulnerable — he had more ways to protect himself than he appeared, because he looked like a slim flamboyant weakling. But Rob could take care of himself.
Manchester was not a nice city. Sullen women glared at Rob, white men in track suits and undershirts chugging lager on every corner. One of the men scratched his nuts in a way that made his bulge very apparent, and Rob could see the outline of his cock through his Adidas tracksuit bottoms. Rob’s heart skipped a beat. He liked the alpha males of Manchester and their brusque accents. Most of them were unemployed, of course, who would hire such a lout? Throughout the city, scallies hung around on stoops and in alleys, shouting come-ons at girls of low repute. They ignored Rob, until one of them noticed Rob checking him out.
“Oi! Ya nasty siss! I’ll stomp that punk look off ya face!” He stood up, his big thick chest making Rob drool. He wore brilliant blue trainers with his chile 62s tucked into the socks.
Rob backed up. The scally had deep-set eyes and hair cut very short. He scowled and laughed at the frightened expression on Rob’s face. He spat on the ground, almost hitting Rob.
“Get outta here, mate!” His companions glared too, and they all bunched up so close together their bodies touched. Rob was entranced for a moment by the sight of their mostly bare arms rubbing against each other, their Adidas-clad asses touching. One of them even clutched the shoulder of the man next to him, and a for a moment, it looked like they were going to kiss. Rob would have gladly stayed to watch.
But that wasn’t what they were going to do. They were going to beat Rob up and take his wallet. So Rob left.
The Toppenlad Housing Estate had a big grassy courtyard in front of it. It might have looked nice at one point, but now the grass glittered with broken glass from bottles and empty cans of lager. Spraypainted graffiti covered the walls of the building.
“Oi! Come here, you bitch!”
“Let’s go!”
“I’ll suck your dick, baby!” That was a woman in skimpy clothes, hair pulled back so taut it looked painful. She was yelling at a man, then turned to Rob — seemingly to offer to suck him off as well, then she stopped when she saw the swishy lilt to Rob’s walk. She scowled. “Foickin’ pansy.”
Rob blushed, but entered the building. He found flat 9B with fear growing with every step. There was a man with a swastika tattooed on his back doing pushups near the lifts, with a Staffordshire pit bull watching Rob go by. The dog growled as Rob stepped into the lift. The man wasn’t doing pushups in any kind of area, he was just in the hall, not totally blocking it, but still in the way, and he did his push-ups with frantic energy like he was in a manic state, coked up or both.
Another man came into the lift before the doors shut, and Rob’s heart raced at the sight of a yardie with what appeared to be fresh blood on his trainers. It wasn’t even all dry yet. His dreadlocks smelled like coconut and steel, and he simmered and fidgeted, sucking on his teeth and sneaking glances at Rob the whole way up.
Finally the lift reached the ninth floor, and Rob stepped out. The yardie got out at the same floor.
There was a hypodermic syringe on the ground just outside the lift. Rob stepped over it. 9B was right over there. He could feel that yardie watching him. He had a feeling that he would have been mugged if he had gone to a different flat — Trevor was dangerous enough that his visitors didn’t get messed with. Others might not have been so lucky.
Rob knocked on the door, sighing with relief when he heard that yardie stalk away. He still wasn’t sure Trevor was going to be there, or even that this was the right address. Someone had told him he could buy drugs here.
After a few more knocks, Trevor opened it, nearly ripping the door off the hinges. “Wut, mate?” He was bleary-eyed and looked to be half-asleep.
“I-“
“Who the foik is you, mate? Huh? Ya foickin’ pussy-faced cunt, get in here!”
Rob’s heart raced. This was definitely Trevor. He had a shaved head, a scruffy chin, a craggy face with a scar on the cheek, and he wore an Adidas tracksuit over perfectly clean Nikes. He had a plain white shirt on, stained with sweat from yesterday’s workout. He had the same intense scent and overwhelming swagger that Rob remembered from the older Trevor in prison.
The smell of his chest was invigorating. Rob was overwhelmed, especially when he walked into Trevor’s flat. There were dirty trainers and socks everywhere, filthy clothes piled upon stacks of filthy clothes, and empty packets of fags, a couple of orange traffic cones for some reason, empty cans of lager galore and a ratty old mattress on the floor in one room.
“You’re Rob, righ’?” Trevor said with a nod. “Dave said you’d be ‘ere at one.”
“Yeah, I’m running late. I got stuck in traffic, you know how it is on a Friday afternoon. The cars on the M60 were back-to-back-“
“Oi!” Trevor had to crane way down to get eye to eye with Rob. His muscles heaved and his face turned red like he was going to strangle Rob. “I didn’t ask ya to tell me a foickin’ story, mate.”
Rob’s heart sank. “Yeah. Sorry. Okay-“
Trevor’s murderously angry face broke into a broad grin. He was actually quite handsome when he didn’t look like a psychopath, which seemed to be rare. “I was just taking the piss, mate. I’m a dealer, not a copper. How much do you want?”
Again, Rob’s heart skipped a beat, because Trevor turned to get him a bag, and his bare arm came so close to Rob’s face that he could taste the sweat beading there. “I just need a couple pills. The best stuff you got.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Rob didn’t really care about the pills. He liked being so close to Trevor while he showed him the three different pills he had. Rob bought four slinnidols.
After handing over the quid, Rob stood up, the pills in his pocket. He smiled at Trevor like he had just come up with an idea. “Did you want to make a little extra money?”
“Course, mate. You want me to bash someone?”
“No! Not that,” Rob said. “I’d like you… to ram me.”
Trevor laughed, a big, harsh Mancunian laugh. He clasped his belly too. “You’re a poofter, mate?”
Rob nodded and reached out for Trevor’s chest with one hand. Trevor looked at him and furrowed his brow. Rob stroked in between the crest of his meaty pecs.
“I’ll give you a hundred pounds,” Rob said. His heart nearly thumped out of his chest. “But you have to ram me, and you have to ram me hard. Can you do that?”
“Seriously? A ‘undred pounds?” Trevor scoffed. He licked his lips and sneered as though he was disgusted by the offer. Rob wasn’t surprised by that, he just stood winsomely, sucking on one of his fingers to tantalize Trevor.
Like a lot of men, Trevor wanted to get his dick wet and didn’t care too much whose wetness he dipped it in. He’d have gladly rammed any adult female besides his mother for a hundred pounds, no matter how nasty she was.
But a male?
“Oi! If you fink you’re gonna make me jerk you off, you’re wrong, bitch, and I’ll rip ya skull off if you try anything, I’ll piss down ya foickin’ throat.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t do that,” Rob said. “I’m a bottom. That means-“
“You don’t ‘aveta explain,” Trevor said.
“I deep-throat real good,” Rob said. He demonstrate putting his entire fist in his mouth with his middle finger extending out and down his throat. He gagged but succeeded. “I have a tight ass too, tighter than any of the females you prolly fuck. I’ll never tell you to slow down or be gentle either.”
Trevor’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t want to look too excited. “That is foickin’ nasty, you li’l mincing fairy. But I’ll do it. For two tons,” he said.
“Fine.” Rob smiled — “two tons” was slang for two hundred pounds.
“You had be’er not complain when I’m swea’y and gross. I’m gonna make you regret it, poofter. You still ‘aveta pay me, even when you back out.” Then he belched directly into Rob’s face, the rancid smell filling up Rob’s nostrils. He laughed at Rob’s shocked expression, and he belched again. Perverts, he thought, were so neat and clean that Rob would hate being burped on, so Trevor thought Rob would back out.
That turned out not to be the case, but it took Trevor a few moments to figure it out. He forced belch after belch, a few drops of burpjuice even landing on Rob’s face. But Rob just grinned and sunk to his knees in front of Trevor, like a supplicant ready to worship.
“Stand up,” Trevor said. He wrinkled his nose, annoyed that Rob wasn’t responding as he had hoped. Normally women complained that he smelled bad — that was because he didn’t shower often. His pits were especially fragrant. His last girlfriend had dumped him after she accidentally stuck her nose in his pit. So Trevor lifted off his white tee shirt and tossed it to the floor, amid the sea of dirty clothes forever waiting for a laundry machine.
He lifted up one arm and slammed Rob face-first into his armpit. He cackled as Rob’s body twisted. He rubbed his hair over Rob’s nose and mouth. “Taste it, poofter, that’s what a real man tastes like.”
Rob inhaled deeply and licked his sweaty armpit hair. The taste was salty and potent. Rob loved every drop of it, and he especially loved the way Trevor’s big barrel chest shook when he laughed. Rob’s hands gripped Trevor’s flat, tattooed belly and reached for his ass, but Trevor stopped him.
“Poofs are nasty, mate,” he said. “Clean my other pit.” He wondered if this would be a viable long-term plan — maybe instead of paying for deodorant just to mollify a bunch of slutty females, he could let a siss pay him to suck his armpit clean every day.
Trevor didn’t want to let on that he was considering that option, so he tried to smell his own left armpit, the one Rob had already finished with, without being too obvious about it. It didn’t really smell much better though, he thought, it was still rank with sour sweat and caked-on grime, but now it had that spitty scent like a baby’s dummy too.
In fact, Rob did see Trevor sniff his other armpit, but he didn’t comment on it because he was focused on the right pit. He slathered saliva all over it and sucked up every drop of sweat he could find. Trevor had adorably hairy pits, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered all week (which was true, Trevor usually only showered on Sunday mornings because he saw his mother for dinner).
Trevor snarled because he had to suppress a laugh, as Rob’s tongue got through his hair to his ticklish skin. He covered up his ticklishness with an angry grunt.
“Oi, you can get on my dick now, ya poofter.” He firmly pushed down on Rob’s head, forcing him back to his knees. Then he hawked up a big loogie. He thought for sure this would scare Rob off as he spat it onto Rob’s face.
It was thick and stinky and it made Rob’s stomach churn, but it aroused him too. He loved being spat on by scally lads. He planted his lips on Trevor’s bulge, letting that nasty lump of phlegm slip out and soak into the fabric of his track bottoms.
“Oi! Don’t make my tracksuit duhty, swallow that shit! Don’t spit it out!” Trevor laughed at Rob’s expression — he couldn’t tell if Rob was turned on or grossed out. Trevor hoped both. Rob opened his mouth and sucked the loogey back into his mouth. Trevor growled. “Now swallow it.”
Rob gulped and did so. Trevor’s mouth was agape. He smiled. He was astonished that a man would willingly go through all this — Trevor had long thought he was sexy and women should treat him like he was. They didn’t. They generally preferred clean-cut upper-class guys. Even the sluts and tramps of the Toppenlad Housing Estate made it pretty obvious they wanted the nice suit-clad gentlemen who worked in offices and drove to work and read The Guardian, not the tracksuited lads like Trevor who walked to work on those occasions they had a job to show up to and didn’t read any of the papers, not even The Daily Mail.
Rob smacked his lips. He showed off his empty mouth. “Will you spit on me some more, please?”
Trevor was taken aback because he was expecting Rob to beg him to stop. He spat again and again, trying to make the poofter beg him to stop. He took a long chug from his can of lager hoping that would make him phlegmy again, but it didn’t work. He had been spitting so much his mouth was dry and not even the beer helped.
His saliva glistened all over Rob’s face. Trevor gingerly touched it, a smile creeping over his face as he smeared his spit to cover Rob’s cheeks. “Keep that mouth open, poofter. Let’s see what else you can put in there.” He picked up a nasty old sock off the floor, one that he had worn last time he worked (as a builder for a day, hauling bricks in barras back and forth to the worksite). The sock was ripe, and Trevor could virtually see the stink-lines emanating off it.
He jammed the sock into Rob’s mouth. The taste was bracing and acrid and harsh, and it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. It tasted like Trevor’s armpits but even funkier, and with actual dirt ground in. Rob could taste gravel and mud.
One of the things Rob loved most about socks and shoes was how it enabled him to taste everything about Trevor. He could picture Trevor at work, arms covered in grit as he wheeled a heavy barra among the builders. They wore those bright orange hi-vis jackets, and they all had deep, rumbly voices that could be heard a mile away because they spent so much time bellowing over the sound of the jackhammer. Trevor had come home from work that day utterly soaked in sweat, this sock plastered to his skin. He had taken one of those rare non-Sunday showers then, and he had pulled off that sock just before jumping in the water.
“Suck on me sock, poofter, nasty!” Trevor said. His dick was hard already, throbbing in his bottoms.
When Rob had soaked the sock with his spit — and the spit that Trevor had spat into his mouth — he pulled it out and rubbed it over his face. It absorbed all the spit and sweat there.
“Can I suck on your trainers?” Rob asked, his voice weak and mewling. He bent over and kissed the toes of Trevor’s left foot, through his squeaky-clean trainer. Like most scallies, Trevor placed a great deal of importance on footwear. He threw away his shoes and bought new ones — or more often, stole them — whenever they got scuffed.
“Suck on them? No. You can clean ’em, poofter. Clean me trainers like the bitch you are.” His trainers were white Nikes with dark blue highlights. Rob licked them, even rubbing his tongue like a sponge on a tiny spot of dirt until it came up.
After having a sock in his mouth, Rob’s tongue was dry. But he got a good burst of mud and sweaty foot flavor. He ran his tongue along the side of his trainers, then Trevor even lifted one foot up to see if Rob would suck on the underside.
Which he did, with a big smile on his face.
“That’s disgusting, mate,” Trevor said with a throaty chuckle. He pulled his feet away. He sighed, his cock still hard. A lot of guys got hard at the prospect of busting a nut regardless of the situation. Trevor pulled down his tracksuit to reveal a hefty, meaty cock, which stank of unwashed manhood. Rob put the tip in his mouth and sucked on it loudly, slurping up all the saliva he could generate.
Rob looked up and made eye contact with Trevor, who still looked shocked that this was happening even as his dick firmed up in Rob’s mouth.
“Oi, mate, open that froat up,” Trevor said. “You’re gonna learn how to gag real nice now…” He grabbed onto Rob’s ears and plowed deeply into his gullet.
His shaft was fully hard now, slamming in and out of Rob’s throat. Rob loudly choked and sputtered. Trevor’s balls slammed against his chin. Trevor loved that: balls-on-chin. That used to be he and his mates’s go-to threat: you’re gonna have chin-balls — it meant throating.
But now, Trevor was actually doing it. He’d be bragging about this to his friends for some time to come. He rammed so hard there was a satisfyingly meaty thwack-thwack as his balls hit Rob on the chin. Trevor would later go on to say Rob told him he rammed his throat too good, that his dick was too big for that, that he had such a legendarily huge cock that nobody could ever deep-throat him.
A gasp escaped from Trevor’s throat. His face turned ruddy. He hadn’t expected it to feel this good, and his muscles spasmed with pleasure. This was actually better than any blowjob he’d ever had. That’s because Rob loved his cock and loved its unwashed dirtiness even more. It tasted like those nasty old trackpants he wore, tattered and muck-splattered and dingy.
The precum was thick and salty, and Rob guzzled it down. He looked up to make eye contact with Trevor, but Trevor’s eyes were closed. He moaned as he rammed at Rob’s throat hard, slamming his dick in over and over.
He opened his eyes only when he pulled his cock all the way out. Spit dripped from it — some of it Trevor’s own spit from earlier and his phlegm too, which stuck to the palate of Rob’s mouth. Trevor’s eyes lit up.
He spat again and again, his beery mouth now finally phlegmatic enough to hawk a loogey again. It plopped nastily on Rob’s tongue, then it smeared over Trevor’s shaft as Trevor forced it back in his throat.
It was nice to ram a man’s throat, Trevor thought, because it was bigger and wider than a woman’s. That made sense to him, he thought. He could really push it all the way in like a porn star, and Rob didn’t complain.
But Trevor didn’t want to blow his wad like this. Aside from the fact that he had agreed to ram Rob in the ass, he wanted to do it — girls didn’t give up the ass very often. Trevor craved a bum.
“Oi, you had better open that arse up. Bend over, get on ya hands and knees,” Trevor said. He didn’t wait for Rob to comply though. He just grabbed his ass and pulled his track bottoms down. He bent Rob over on all fours.
Again, girls always made Trevor go slow. Even tarts who gave up the butt easy made Trevor be slow and gentle and use plenty of lube. Trevor didn’t want to do all that. He wanted to destroy some tight asshole. He loved the idea of watching someone squirm in both bliss and agony brought about by Trevor’s massive manhood.
So he spat on his palm a few times and wiped that over his shaft, which was already plenty moist anyway from Rob’s mouth. Trevor thought that ought to be enough.
“Say ‘I’m a poofter and I want Trevor’s cock’.”
“I’m a poofter and I want Trevor’s cock!” Rob shouted.
Trevor hit him in the back of the head. He pulled on Rob’s hair. “I didn’t say to shout it, pansy.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Rob panted. His cock was so hard it felt like it was going to explode. “Please ram me. I need your cock inside me. You’re a real man, you’re a real alpha, I need you-“
Trevor cackled. He spat into the palm of his head and held it in front of Rob’s face. Rob sucked it up and even sucked on Trevor’s hand desperately, moaning as he felt Trevor’s cock rub between his cheeks.
With a surge of adrenaline flowing through him, Trevor bellowed and pounded on his chest as he pistoned his cock right into Rob’s waiting asshole.
“Open that asshole! Let a real man in there, ya li’l mewling pansy-bitch!”
Rob howled as his ass split, Trevor plowing into him so hard Rob drew blood where he bit his lip. A burst of pleasure and pain hit Rob in equal measure, the pain quickly subsiding as his ass adjusted to Trevor’s massive dick. That left behind only an intense and ever-mounting sense of bliss.
Trevor sighed. He wanted to talk, to grunt, to berate Rob — that’s what seemed right to him. That’s what a tough guy should do when ramming a man in the ass, he thought.
But he couldn’t simply because this felt too good. Rob’s ass gripped his cock, clenching, holding on, so Trevor had to rip in and rip out with each thrust of his hips. He would have thought that would tear Rob’s ass to bits, but somehow Rob took it without complaint.
“Stick it in me!” Not only did he not complain, but he shouted out loud.
Trevor couldn’t have that. He liked the idea of plowing into Rob hard enough he couldn’t stop screaming, but he didn’t want everyone in the nearby flats to know what was happening. His own grunts and shouted insults wouldn’t attract as much attention as Rob’s flamboyant, feminine lilt.
So Trevor grabbed another dirty sock, not the one Rob had sucked on before. He rammed it into Rob’s mouth to shut him up. Rob bit on the sock, his hands tightening into claws that dug at the dirty tracksuit beneath him on the floor. The taste was freshly musky and salty, and Rob savored it on his tongue.
That was enough to send Rob over the edge into an orgasm. The taste of Trevor’s scally foot flooded his senses, distracting him from the massive dick tearing his ass up. Rob’s prostate tingled and pulsated where Trevor’s cock throbbed against it.
“God damn!” Trevor groaned. He slapped Rob’s cheeks as a potent orgasm hit him. He didn’t even notice Rob jacking himself off onto the floor, which was filthy enough that Rob’s load wasn’t obvious.
Trevor’s climax was intense and grimy and it made him feel gross but also victorious. “Damn it, poofter, you have got one tight ass.” He chuckled as the first few drops of cum hit Rob’s insides. “Or you did have a tight ass, until now.”
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, great wads of it filling him up and coating his insides. It seeped into him, and Rob sighed. Trevor grunted. He weighed down on Rob’s back, pinning him to the floor. Trevor hadn’t intended to ram like this. He thought it would feel too awkward to be on top of Rob, his muscles flexing against Rob’s smooth shoulders.
But in the heat of the moment, it didn’t feel too strange. It made Rob twitch and cringe, squirming beneath Trevor as though he was trying to escape. Trevor’s hot breath condensed on Rob’s cheek. It smelled now, strongly of lager since he had started drinking since he belched on Rob’s face earlier.
His cumwad kept coming. Rob couldn’t believe how much he shot. Trevor was young and dumb and full of cum, it seemed, and Rob moaned the entire time as his ass filled up.
At last he was done. He pulled and chuckled as Rob spasmed. Trevor breathed a sigh of relief that he was done. “You are one gross poofter, mate. You kiss your mum with that mouth?” He laughed. He placed one of his bare feet on Rob’s face, making Rob suck on his toes. “You had be’er pay me. You’re not takin’ the piss, are you?”
Rob smiled, too exhausted from the plowing to laugh with him. He sucked on Trevor’s feet — Trevor had unthinkingly put his foot on Rob’s face thinking it would make Rob get up and hand over the money right away. He was so overwhelmed by his climax it didn’t occur to him that Rob would like it.
He jammed his big toe into Rob’s mouth until Rob gagged. Rob’s hands flailed and clawed at Trevor’s trunk-like thighs. His meaty thighs flexed beneath Rob’s touch.
“Thanks for the pills,” Rob said with a gasp when Trevor finally took his foot out of his mouth. “And everything.” Rob grabbed his wallet and counted out two hundred pounds.
Trevor nodded. It hadn’t occurred to him until he saw Rob’s wallet that he didn’t need to abide by any payment amount. He grabbed the entire wallet and pulled all the cash out — that was only an extra tenner, but Trevor didn’t care. This story would be better, he thought, if it was part of a robbery.
Rob blushed and nodded. Trevor scowled at him. “You had be’er get outuh here before I start looking for more money on you. If you had nicer shoes, I’d have already took ‘em.”

The Drifter

Rob has paid off a child support beef for the legendary drifter and hobo Tommy Weathers, and for that, Rob is ready to taste his filthy, raunchy meat. Is Tommy willing to give it up?

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Read the whole thing here

It took a long time after Rob paid off the child support for Tommy to be released. Rob’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of his latest lust striding cockily through the jail, his eyes darting suspiciously towards the uniformed cop who escorted him out.
“I thanks ya kindly, suh,” Tommy said when he was in the waiting area and his handcuffs were unlocked. “You a real prince among men.”
The situation was awkward, the waiting area clogged with dour-looking girlfriends, mothers and lawyers, all of them pretending they weren’t eavesdropping. Tommy was oblivious though and shamelessly spoke loudly and at great length in front of them.
“Uh, yeah, no problem. You’re welcome,” Rob said.
Tommy’s deep voice boomed. He was tall and big-bodied by nature, but with the lean, ropy build of a drifter. He was white but with very sun-tanned skin, burnt and reburnt by his days of shirtless work. He was missing several teeth. His accent was so thick it reminded Rob of the incomprehensible hillbilly, Boomhauer, from King of the Hill. He talked incessantly too, as though he was required to verbalize every thought he had.
“I’m gonna pay you back, suh. Not in money, you know I ain’t got none of that, and if’n I did, I’d just spend it all on booze, ya hear. The ol’ Tommy, he would-a say he gonna pay you back in cold hard cash, ya hear, but he wouldn’t do it. Nosirree. He just use ya and abuse ya for as much as he can, then spend it all on fentunill, uh-huh, ya hear, son? I ain’t that kinda man no mo’, suh, and I thanks ya rightly for all that you done. I’s gonna tell ya upfront that if I gets any cash, I be buyin’ liquor wit’ it. Ain’t proud of it, ’s just my weakness, ya hear? God ain’t see fit to gimme the strength to resist sweet lady drink.”
He kept talking as they walked back to Rob’s car and drove away from the jail. Rob found his accent alluring, and his intense energy made Rob horny. He couldn’t focus on Tommy’s words because he was so aroused.
So far, Rob had only managed to jack Tommy off once when he was drunk. They met because Tommy was holding up a sign asking for money at a busy intersection — he had insisted even as he begged for handouts that he didn’t accept welfare (he offered to write down every person’s address and pay them back at some point in the future, but most people understandably declined). Rob had offered him thirty bucks to jack him off.
Tommy agreed without giving it a second thought and jumped into the passenger seat. Once he was there, however, he made a big show of this being contrary to his ideals as a Christian. Those ideals didn’t slow him down any, but he did make Rob buy him liquor first, and by the time he had his dick out in the shadowy corner of an All-Mart parking lot, Tommy had been piss-drunk.
His dick was thick and fleshy, nice and long, and it throbbed beneath Rob’s fingertips. Tommy had demonstrated its thickness by holding it next to his forearm — it was just a bit thicker than his cock. He cackled with pride.
“Mah friends always used to say I got color cock,” he grinned, showing off his gap-toothed jaw. “You know what that mean? I got dick like a color boy. Ain’t prejudice now, ya hear?”
“Uh-huh.”
He went on, talking about his lack of prejudice and, at the same time, all the groups of people he was prejudiced against: Filipinos, blacks, foreigners, electricians, feminists, Marylanders, Jews, Frenchmen, people named Bruce, Canadians, psychiatrists, people who eat smooth peanut butter, Texans, politicians, Mexicans and Mormons, among others. Even as his dick got hard in Rob’s hand and leaked precum into his fingers, Tommy didn’t stop talking.
“I used to fuck this color girl, she loved me somethin’ fierce. Ah, damn, she got this ass, man… It’s enough to make me unchristian, it rightly is, suh. I tell you one thing. Uh-huh.”
When he orgasmed, he shut up for about half a second, then let loose with a loud torrent of moaning. Even his moans had a redneck accent though, which made Rob giggle.
Sitting there in the car in the All-Mart parking lot, Rob had nearly busted his own load just from the sight of Tommy’s muscles writhing beneath his t-shirt, his scruffy chin and his unwashed hair shaking. He finally stopped talking for a few seconds, long enough to spray sweet, sunny-smelling semen all over Rob’s hand. It spurted over Tommy’s t-shirt too, soaking into it. That made Tommy drunkenly groan with disgust, but Rob had given him a new t-shirt. Tommy allowed him to keep the old one, which Rob had fallen asleep sniffing and licking.
So that had been how he met Tommy. He had paid Tommy thirty bucks and the bottle and said he could stay at Rob’s place. He slept on the couch. That first night, he had spent the whole thirty bucks on more booze. He said that it would last him a week, but he actually finished it in two days — he shared some with a couple of homeless men, but he drank most of it himself.
Since then Tommy had been out and about — “testifyin’ at ‘bout the Lord on heaven” — so Rob hadn’t had the chance to get at his dick again.
Until today.
Tommy had spent a day and a half in jail after being arrested for being drunk in public. It turned out he owed five hundred in child support, which Rob paid to get him out.
When they pulled into Rob’s house, Tommy cleared his throat. “Ya need any more work done, suh?”
Rob shook his head no. Tommy had refused to take charity, so he had done some work around the house in exchange for a couch to sleep on. But that work was all done.
“You gonna wanna jack me off, huh?”
“Yeah,” Rob said.
He sighed. “Fine. I knew it was gonna come to that. I don’t take charity, so I’ll do whatevuh it take,” he said.
“I might know someone who needs work done,” Rob said. “Why don’t I make some calls? I might be able to find you a job.”
“I’d be much obliged,” he said. He sniffed his pits. “I should go take a shower. I got jailstink in me.”
“No.” Rob blushed. “Wait. Lemme… y’know… first.”
“Oh, you like it stinky, huh?”
“The stinkier the better,” Rob said. He sent off a text message to a friend of his, asking about a job for Tommy. Then he dropped to his knees and massaged Tommy’s cock through his jeans. Tommy snorted and was silent for a moment — that was highly unusual for him, and it was enough to make Rob chuckle. He undid the fly and let Tommy’s cock flop out.
Rob opened his mouth and swallowed it down. That triggered Tommy to start talking again, but Rob ignored him. He focused on the taste of his meat; it was salty and musky, with a sun-drenched summery flavor that made Rob drool all over it.
“You really like jackin’ dick, huh? What’s up wit’ dat? Huh? Dick don’t taste good, I never put it in my mouth — no how, no way — but I knows dat, yessuh, you best believe it. That’s where piss come from, why don’t it just taste like piss?” He paused, his voice scrunched up as he pondered this conundrum. “Oh, but girls piss too. Pussy does piss I know dat, suh. But they’s cleaner. That’s the diff’rence. Tastes like piss, yessuh. I know dat.”
His dick got hard easily — Rob was glad to see he didn’t have whiskey dick, despite the bottle of whiskey he had drunk before getting arrested. It was massively thick, one of those rare cocks that Rob actually needed to struggle to deep-throat.
There were two reasons in Rob’s book to practice rough trade. Firstly, he just plain enjoyed it. Secondly, and even more important, Rob loved to humiliate his father. Dad was an upper-class elitist who hated the lower classes. He genuinely thought poor people shouldn’t be allowed to speak to the wealthy unless spoken to first.
So as Rob swallowed, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Dad. As expected, it went straight to voice mail — Dad knew what it meant when Rob called him. Rob was fine with the voice mail, since Dad couldn’t hang it up. Rob left the phone recording while he moistly put his mouth on Tommy’s cock, whose incessant yammering in his Southern dialect would enrage Dad so much it made Rob smile.
“You got nice lips, damn, suh. I wasn’t expectin’ that, nosirree. I never do no pervy shit wit’ no male person befo’, nope, no, no, no, no way, and I will slap the bitch off anyone say different,” he said. “But I’s a Christian man, so I won’t do that. I don’t slap no one. I would though, I’d do it and get meself some fo’giveness later. I’s Christian fo’ real, suh. Don’t hit anyone who question me, not even men. Nope, that ain’t Christian. But don’t doubt that I ain’t nevuh do none of that pervuht shit befo’, or I will hit ya, and that’s a Christian promise.” He continued swearing that he both would definitely hit this hypothetical person and definitely would not, apparently having no realization that he was contradicting himself over and over. He peered down at his cock as it disappeared down Rob’s throat. He covered his eyes with one hand, peeking through his fingers before looking away again.
Rob loved hearing Tommy’s rumbling drawl, his gravelly voice filling the air with the words that dripped out of him like molasses. His cock dripped too, salty precum flowing down Rob’s throat. He gurgled on it, letting some leak out from his lips and down his chin.
The phone rang — not Rob’s personal phone, but his landline. Rob wasn’t going to answer until he saw he caller ID. It was a friend who owned a small bakery in town.
“I should take this,” Rob said. “It’s the guy I asked about giving you a job. I sent him a text. He called on the landline-“
“Hell yeah, answer that, suh, I rightly need dat, yeah,” he said. He wrinkled his nose as Rob lazily stroked his dick and answered the phone. He stared at the cock as he had to fight back the urge to start jacking on it again — he needed his mouth free to talk on the phone.
It turned out his friend did have a job available. He needed someone to re-tile his bathroom, and, when Rob asked, Tommy nodded as though he didn’t have experiencing tiling but was willing to pretend he did.
So Rob passed the phone over. Tommy took a deep breath before answering, and Rob couldn’t help but lick his dick. He didn’t put it in his mouth again while Tommy interviewed over the phone, he just licked and lightly stroked the shaft.
“Hello, suh. Yessuh, I swears, I do got experience. Yessuh, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, ain’t nevuh tiled a bathroom all by myself. But I done it. I know all ‘bout that, yessuh. And you can rest yerself unworried, suh, I’s a Christian man. I’s a God-fearin’ man, uh-huh.” His voice broke when a drop of precum leaked onto Rob’s tongue. “Yessuh. I got dat punc-tual-ity, yessuh, I always do. I do good work. I was raised propuh.”
His dick twitched in Rob’s mouth. Rob kissed the tip as loudly as he could, giggling when Tommy frowned at him. Rob licked up all the precum that dripped out of his dick.
“I only ask that ya treat me wit’ respect as well. I only ask fo’ you to treat me like a man, ya hear. I don’t like to hear no kinda disrespec’. Ya got me? Huh? I see, yeah. Yessuh,” he said. “I ain’t gonna lie to you, suh. I do gots a problem wit’ the drink, yeah. I’s man enough to admit dat. Uh-huh.”
Tommy used one hand to keep the phone on his ear, while his other hand grabbed Rob by the head. He bucked his hips one time, slamming his dick all the way into Rob’s throat. He listened intently to the phone as he did, like he didn’t even notice what his cock was doing. He smiled and stuck his tongue out when he was all the way in Rob’s gullet, and he moaned loudly.
Then he blushed and stammered into the phone. “Sorry, suh, I was, uh… I just stubbed my toe, so sorry,” he said. “I ain’t know ‘bout that, suh. It might not be the best way to go. I do drink me some ‘lcohol, that’s fo’ sho’. Uh-huh. I ain’t gonna lie to you, suh, I’s a Christian man, I do drink e’ry night. The Lord ain’t seen fit to take that burden from my back. I pray e’ry night, both befo’ and aftuh I get drunk, ya hear. I pray fo’ guidance, yessuh, and I pray for forgiveness.”
As Rob started to stroke Tommy’s cock in earnest again, he looked up at Tommy’s serious face. Tommy had one arm crossed over his flat belly, rubbing against the blond hairs there. Rob suckled loudly and moistly on his cockshaft, which throbbed and precummed down Rob’s throat.
“Alright, yessuh, thank you, thank you fo’ the oppo’tunity, yessuh, I do ‘ppreciate it, mighty fine,” Tommy said. Then he hung up the phone. He snorted. “He ain’t hire me.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“He say he gonna need me to do some drivin’. The tiles he wanna use is in some far-away warehouse or somethin’. He say he gonna make me take a breathalyzer first. He say insurance make him do it,” Tommy said. “I can’t get no kinda DUI no mo’, or I do some big-boy time in the slammer. That’s what my lawyer say last time. So I tell him, I tells ya friend, I tells him nah, I can’t lie. I gonna be drunk, at least at the legal limit from the night befo’. ‘nless you pick me up from jail like you done today, that’s ‘bout the only way I might be sober fo’ him. God ain’t seen fit to take the burden of drink off my back, ya hear.”
“Uh-huh. That’s too bad, I’m sorry to hear that,” Rob said. He was too horny to really care, though a part of him was annoyed that Tommy hadn’t even been willing to try to quit drinking for the job. Rob was also certain that his friend was making that up — he had no breathalyzer, he was just saying that to scare Tommy into admitting he would never show up sober.
“Hey, suh, I wanna-” Tommy said. He snorted and threw his head back to moan, biting his lip as he nearly orgasmed right then and there. He pulled his dick out and let it flop against Rob’s face. It smelled like hay and saliva and sweat, and it made Rob’s mind race as dizzying desire overwhelmed him. Tommy took a deep breath. “I’s in need, ya know that, ya hear. You seem like the kinda man who wanna help a Christian brotha out, and ya know I don’t take no kinda charity, no way. Huh-huh. I don’t do dat. I got some pride left in these old bones.”
“What do you want, Tommy?” Rob didn’t meant to be impatient, but he desperately wanted to get back to swallowing his dick.
“I want you to forgive me my debt fo’ that child support shit, and I need more. If you gimme ‘bout two hundred, I can buy enough liquor to last me for weeks and still have enough to pay child support fo’ this month, ya hear. That’ll keep me outta jail long enough to get a job.”
“A job that doesn’t expect you to come to work sober?” Rob asked. Tommy wrinkled his nose, and Rob smiled. He didn’t mean to be confrontational — he wasn’t Tommy’s social worker, after all.
“That’s fair, I say. I say that’s fair,” Tommy said. “But the Lord ain’t seen fit to tell me to quit drinkin’. The Lord ain’t say that yet. Maybe it’ll happen tomorrow. Maybe the day aftuh that, I dunno. The Lord works in mysterious ways, suh, as I’m sure you well know.”
“Uh-huh.” Rob inhaled deeply from the musky cock that rested and pulsated atop his face, as he looked up into Tommy’s ultra-serious mien.
“So I’s askin’ for two hundred, suh, but I wouldn’t be askin’ if I ain’t wanna earn it, like a real man. I dunno if you know this ‘bout me, but I don’t take charity. Nope, no way, no how,” he said, and even though he had told Rob that maybe a hundred times in the week or so they had known each other, he seemed to be genuinely unaware that he had said it before. He took a deep breath. “I’s willin’ to treat you in a most unchristian way, if that’s the way you want it.”
Rob would have had no idea what that meant, but from the way Tommy raised his eyebrows and stroked his twitching cock, Rob guessed it was exactly what he wanted. He glanced over at the phone to be sure his father’s voicemail would pick up this conversation.
“You’ll stick it in my ass?”
Tommy blanched, frowned and chuckled nervously. “Damn, you really speak blunt, suh, but yeah, that’s what I’s sayin’.”
“Have you ever done it before?”
“Nossuh!” he said. Then he paused. “I been drinkin’ a lotta drink fo’ a long time, suh.” He put his hand over his heart. “I ain’t wanna lie to ya, suh. This man I know — Willie — he tells me one time that we get drunk together in a tramp camp out near the highway — not the highway here in Tuscaloosa, this was down in Florida — and we get so drunk, me and Willie, we get so drunk we can’t even stand, I swear to God. I wasn’t composed-mentis — that’s a legal term, ya hear — and I ain’t even remembuh it the next day. But Willie, he a color boy, not that I’s prejudice, but he say the next day, he say that we was real drunk and I was attemptin’ at his asshole all night. Color boys say dat, yessuh. But I wasn’t right in the mind then, and I don’t rightly remembuh it. I punched that Willie in the face and I ain’t even ask fo’giveness. He say we was drunk and messin’ each other off — color boys call that ‘sixty-ninin’’, yessuh, and then he say he stick me in the asshole, and I say no way, no how, I don’t do that, nossuh. I don’t let no white man in my ass, and I don’t let no color man in there neither. I ain’t prejudice. He say we both do it, but I punch him in the face.” Tommy laughed. “He punch me back, but we make up and get to smokin’ some ice togethuh, all forgotten. We was both smokin’ that crystal meth-am-phetamine then. I quit that now, by the grace of God, thank you, suh.”
As he told that long story, Rob got into position. He bent over on all fours, above his own cell phone so he could be sure his father would listen to every moist sound and intense moan. He slathered lube all over his ass.
It was only as he finished his story, talking about smoking meth and over-enunciating the word methamphetamine, that Tommy got in position to enter Rob’s ass. He kneeled and got behind Rob, who cringed as soon as he felt that thick prick at the entrance to his ass.
Tommy grabbed Rob’s hair, which was just long enough that he could grip it. He screwed up his face like a mean thug for a moment, and he slapped Rob’s asscheek.
“I ain’t gonna stick ya real mean-like. Ya reckon it’s okay if I hold onto yer hair, suh?”
“That’s fine.”
“I just likes to hold on, like for somethin’ to grip. Plus I can pull on it just a bit, make ya tighten up some. Ya just gotta tell me to stop or slow down,” Tommy said, sounding like he really hoped Rob would make him stop.
But Rob didn’t. He was so horny he backed his ass up while Tommy was still talking, so in the end, Tommy didn’t penetrate Rob — instead Rob penetrated himself with Tommy’s dick.
He threw his head back and moaned as Tommy’s cock hit his prostate, inch after inch of it squeezing into his ass. Rob had rarely accepted such a thick slab of meat, so he struggled to take in the whole thing.
“Oh god! It’s so big!” Rob knew that men like Tommy pounded better if their ego was stroked, so Rob kept shouting about how huge Tommy’s cock was. Sure enough, that made Tommy grin like an ape and bristle with pride.
“Here we go, suh, I do hope this is worth it,” Tommy said. He groaned and grunted as he forced the last few inches of his dick in.
They were both motionless for a moment. Rob shivered as he struggled to adjust to the cock in his ass and the wave of pleasure enveloping him. Tommy looked down at his dick disappearing in Rob’s ass as though he had no idea how it had gotten there. He chuckled to himself and was again struck silent for a few seconds. Though Tommy’s accent had turned him on, Rob was glad to have a few moments to think as his prostate came alive.
Then at last Tommy began pounding away at Rob’s ass. He pulled gently on Rob’s hair to keep his head up, even as Tommy pushed down on Rob’s upper back. He placed Rob’s shoulders on the floor, his ass in the air and his head upraised just enough that he could see.
“Damn, suh, from behind you look a lot like a girl,” Tommy said. “A girl who got a real athletic back, that’s nice. A li’l hairy, but hey, I know I ain’t no prize. I met girls a lot hairier than you and I ain’t kick ‘em out of bed. Or outta the tent I be sleepin’ in, or whatevuh. I don’t fuck wit’ prostitutes, mind you suh.” He groaned again and slammed his dick in so hard his balls slapped against Rob’s thigh.
“Uh-huh.” Rob reached behind himself and massaged Tommy’s balls. It wasn’t clear Tommy even realized he was doing it — Tommy’s mind was fixated on the pleasure and the horror of his dick in a man’s asshole. Rob’s fingers slipped behind Tommy’s balls, rubbing that sensitive spot where his sac met his taint. The thick nest of blond hairs there was choked with dried-on sweat.
Tommy stopped moving. He coughed. “Ah, damn, does this make me a rentboy, suh?”
“Uh… No, you’re just…” Rob winced. It was hard to concentrate on speaking with such a huge cock throbbing inside his ass. It was right on his prostate, sending jolts of bliss through his body. “You’re just givin’ me a lesson on masculinity. I’m small and weak-“
Tommy chortled. He mulled around the word masculinity in his mouth and repeated it, dick twitching inside Rob’s twisting body. “Muscle-innity? Wuzzat?”
“It’s, a, uh… bein’ a man” Rob said.
“Well hooty toot, ain’t that right. I ain’t no pervuht, just doin’ what I gotta do to make some scratch. Wish I could tell my sister that and have her get impressed. She called me a failure and a loser, can you believe that? She accuse me of stealin’ cash from her when I was sleepin’ on her couch,” Tommy said. He started moving his hips again, rubbing his dick on every surface of Rob’s guts. Tommy moaned and bit his lip. “I did steal cash from her, mind you. I done sought forgiveness fo’ it already,” he said. “But she ain’t know I done it. She ain’t have no kinda clues ‘bout that. She just ‘ssumed. To me, that ain’t right. She my sister. She should gimme the benefit of the doubt. Ya hear me, suh?”
“Yeah. Uh-huh.”
He chuckled dryly. “I can tell you want me to blow my load. You like, uh, nut, huh, suh?” He shuddered as though that thought was unspeakably disgusting.
“Yeah. Stick it in me,” Rob said, still too distracted by his ass to speak normally, so his voice was wrenched by moans.
“Now when I fuck a girl in the ass, she nevuh want me to fill her up inside. Huh? You want me to pull out? I like to fill her up, cuz that’s in the Bible,” Tommy said. “Spillin’ yer seed is bad, I know that. I hears this preacher say it one time.”
“Yeah. Just cum inside me, okay,” Rob said. He rolled his eyes while he shot his own load into his hand. Some of it even landed on the phone on the floor, which still whirred as it recorded Tommy’s voice and the sound of Rob’s orgasm. Rob smiled — his father was going to hate this. Tommy’s earnest nature, his Christianity, his dirtiness, his redneck accent, he was everything Rob’s dad despised.
“Yessuh, I am glad you say dat,” he said. He spat into the palm of his hand and used that as additional lube. He groaned and slammed his dick in. He pulled it all the way out and did so again, grunting each time, as Rob bit his own lip, the waves of pleasure overwhelming him with each thrust of Tommy’s cock.
Rob could feel his orgasm approach. He writhed, his sensitive ass tingling so intensely Rob could do nothing but bury his face in his own arms. But that didn’t last long because Tommy pulled on his hair as he climaxed.
“Aw, fuck yeah…” He spoke softly for once, and he paused, allowing a moment of delectable silence to fill the room. “Gonna shoot so much you ain’t nevuh stop drippin’, suh… Got a ‘nfinite ‘mount of cum to fill ya up wit’, suh. I always shoots some big loads, like a color boy. I ain’t color, mind ya, and I ain’t prejudice.”
A big jet of creamy cum hit Rob’s prostate, reawakening his own orgasm. Rob twisted and contorted, but Tommy kept a tight grip on his hair.
Then Tommy collapsed his body onto Rob’s back. That pinned Rob down as Tommy gyrated his hips, shooting wad after wad of hot cum inside his ass. It was thicker than most cum, or so Rob thought he sensed as it trickled into his body. He could feel it sticking to his innards, soaking into him, its heat seeping into his flesh.
Rob moaned, but the sound was overpowered by Tommy’s own moan. Tommy’s ropy, dusty, sunburnt muscles flexed where they pressed against Rob’s bare back, and Rob moaned beneath his grasp.
“Ya feel me fillin’ you up, suh? That how you like it? Huh? Girls don’t like that, or some of them do but I think they just prostitutes and sluts, that’s what they is. They usually make me pull out, shoot all over the floor, but I don’t like dat, nossuh. I like-” he paused and his voice broke as he moaned again, another few drops of cum dripping into Rob’s ass. “I likes this, yessuh. I do this fo’ two hundred anytime, yessuh, that’s fo’ sho’. Ain’t Christian to do it, ain’t propuhly Christian, but that’s why the Cath-olics invented forgiveness, yessuh.”
At last they were both done. Rob didn’t know how long he laid there. It felt like eons. All he could focus on was the feel of Tommy’s muscles writhing above his back, his cum trickling into his ass and his breath condensing on Rob’s neck.
“Alright, suh, that okay?”
“Yeah, Tommy, you can get off me now,” Rob said, breathless and strained.
“Yessuh,” he pulled off. He wrinkled his face at sight of his cum-coated cock, dripping with santorum and goop. He laughed at himself. “Well, shit, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but I did it. Yessuh, I did.”
“Yeah. That was good, Tommy,” Rob said. He took a deep breath.
Tommy crossed his arms over his wiry chest and shot Rob a suspicious look. “You ain’t gonna stiff me, right? Two hundred. That’s what you said.” He thought for a moment. “You pretty rich, right?”
“Well, not exactly,” Rob said. His own cock was rock-hard, even though he had cum a couple minutes ago. That’s because the stink of Tommy’s hobo armpits filled the room, and Rob kept playing with Tommy’s rubbery soft cock and wiry muscles. “But I do okay. You said you’ve been in prison before, right? Not just jail-“
“Ayyuh, yessuh, I been gone to lockup buncha times, big-boy prison too, a year and a half once, back befo’ I was a God-fearin’ man,” he said. “That’s how I seen pervuhsion befo’, I know how bad that taste, so I bet — I ain’t taste it, mind you, I know from rep’tation. I hold my own in prison.” He looked away.
“So you’ve never tasted cock?”
“Nosuh, nosuh, nosuh,” he said. “And I nevuh would, nevuh. I tol’ this one color fella he best shank me, cuz no how no way, uh-huh, I ain’t puttin’ his nasty old thing in my mouth.”
“Oh, okay,” Rob said. He had hoped maybe there was a chance he could get his dick in Tommy’s mouth, but he knew that was always a longshot, so he just shrugged.
But Rob saw a hesitant look on Tommy’s face. Rob said, “Four hundred.”
“Eight. I don’t taste no color fella prick, nosuh.”
Rob nodded. “Fine,” he said. His heart pounded. Was he really about to get his dick wet in this redneck?
Tommy got on his knees, weary look on his face, his mouth already puckering. He looked at Rob’s dick and wrinkled his nose. “I nevuh done it — I love me some drugs, you see, but I tol’ that color fella I ain’t tastin’ no hog fo’ it,” he said. “Tastin’ like shit anyhows, on ‘ccount of he always stickin’ his homeboys in the butthole.” He picked up Rob’s dick with two fingers and winced. He opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Just before it touched Rob’s dick, he closed his mouth again. “You ain’t gonna stiff me, right?”
“Swear to God,” Rob said.
Tommy closed his eyes. “Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, you feel me?”
Rob nodded. “No judgement, it’s-” He gasped as his cock slid into Tommy’s mouth. Tommy immediately deep-throated him most of the way down, but as soon as Rob’s cock touched the back of his tongue, Tommy violently retched.
Tommy sat back and closed his mouth like he thought he might vomit. He paused. “First taste is always the nastiest,” he said as though that was a cliche he’d said before. “I-” His face turned pale and he snapped his mouth shut. He got up and hurried the best he could with his pants around his ankles. He went to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, retching into it. “Sorry, suh, sorry, I’s tryin’ — first taste is always the worst, makes ya puke, but I’ll get-” He retched again. “I’ll get through it, swear to God.”
Rob came into the bathroom then. Tommy was bent over the toilet dry-heaving and spitting. His pants were still down so his asshole was bare, wrinkled, pale as could be but studded with off-blond hairs, especially running up his asscrack. Rob came up behind Tommy and thwacked his cock against Tommy’s asscrack.
“Don’chu even try and stick it in my hole,” Tommy said. He turned back around, leaning his back against the toilet. He eyed Rob’s cock with disdain.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to stick it in, just playin’,” Rob said. He slowly got closer, expecting Tommy to open his mouth. But he didn’t. Rob got closer and closer, until his dick touched Tommy’s lip. He didn’t react.
Then he opened his mouth a crack. Rob slid his dick in. Again, Tommy gagged, but not as violently, and Rob was able to keep his dick in there.
Tommy kept his mouth opened wide and his tongue low, minimizing the amount of Rob’s dick that touched his tongue. His chapped lip rubbed against it.
“Oh god, yeah…” Rob moaned loudly. He grabbed Tommy by the ears and pushed his dick in as a sudden orgasm overwhelmed him. The change in angle meant his cock rubbed thoroughly against Tommy’s tongue, and he gagged once more.
“No wai-sshh, I cauuhn’t-” Tommy tried to pull off Rob’s dick, but he was pinned with the toilet behind him, and Rob had a grip on both ears. He let go to hold onto Tommy by the mullet on the back of his head. His hairy was dusty and coarse, and he let out a furious stomach-churning retch as Rob’s dick slid all the way into Tommy’s throat.
“Sorry, just a sec, just a second,” Rob said softly, his face turning red. A jet of cum hit the back of Tommy’s throat, dripping straight down his gullet.
This time when Tommy gagged as the second cumwad hit him, he spat up all the cum he had swallowed so far. His whole body writhed as a big ball of spit and semen slipped out onto Rob’s cock. Tommy finally managed to get himself off Rob’s dick.
“Nasssshuh-” Tommy tried to hold back a vomit, but he couldn’t. He twisted sideways so he could vomit into the toilet bowl. His stomach was empty because he had thrown up before, then spat up Rob’s first cumwad. Rob wasn’t done cumming though. His third spurt of cum landed on the strap of Tommy’s wifebeater on his shoulder.
Then Rob moved to the side of the toilet, so he could jam his dick back into Tommy’s mouth, as Tommy let out a hoarse breath and spat again. Tommy didn’t see it coming, so Rob managed to get his fourth and final cumwad into Tommy’s mouth.
“Sorry, sorry,” Rob said. He thought he shouldn’t have to apologize, since he was paying good money for this, but he figured apologizing would make Tommy more likely to come back. “I’m all done.”
Despite being done, Rob didn’t stop moving his limpening dick in and out of Tommy’s mouth. Tommy was hunched over the toilet, letting fluids drip from his mouth into the bowl. Finally he took Rob’s dick in two fingers and held him back. He closed his mouth, spit again and took a deep breath.
“Alright, alright, you got’cha money’s worth. Damn, that’s the dickens! Still, you ain’t taste as bad as that color fella,” he said. “Or so I hears.” He stood up and pulled his pants up.
“I’ll get you your money. I’ll have to write a check, I don’t have that much cash. What kinda fee will you pay at the check-cashing place.”
“Like five percent plus, uh…” His voice trailed off. “Hundred bucks. Five percent plus a hundred bucks.”
That was clearly a lie, he was exaggerating the cost. But Rob didn’t care. Money was no object to him. He wrote out a check for two hundred dollars, which would more than cover any check-cashing fee. He didn’t get up, his body still too weak and basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. He passed the check over to Tommy.
“Thank ya, suh,” Tommy said. He stood, stretched his knees and wiped his cock off with a napkin. “I thanks ya mightily. I’m just gonna go cash this check, yessuh. I got big plans fo’ it. Gonna buy just a little liquor. Enough to get me drunk fo’ a couple nights. Gonna make this money last, yessuh.”
“And child support,” Rob said weakly while Tommy got dressed. “Don’t forget, you want to be able to pay your child support for a couple months. Or else you’ll just get arrested again.”
Tommy paused for a long time. It was clear he had no intention of paying his child support. He stared at the check for a long time. He smiled at Rob. “Yessuh, ‘course. Thanks a lot fo’ ya help, suh. I swear, I be back. I am gonna turn my life around, yessuh.”
“Okay, see ya, Tommy,” Rob said.
As the door slammed shut behind Tommy, Rob knew that was it, he was not going to see Tommy again. All of that money would be spent on booze, and it would all be gone in a week or two. Tommy was a drifter, and it was time for him to drift away.

The Linebacker

Avery is offended by the hazing horseplay of the GHU football team, so they come by to say sorry and give him a ride on the player of his choice. Avery is all too happy to forgive them, but then he turns down the six-packed studs everyone thought Avery would pick…

Instead he opts for the stout linebacker they call Gravyboat! Can Avery handle this thick-ass jock’s mountain of manmeat?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When the waiting room to the massage parlor erupted in noise, Avery assumed it was a mistake. There was a bar next door, so maybe this group of rambunctious dudes had intended to go there and entered the wrong door. That seemed probable. They were whooping like this was the last stop on a pub crawl.
Avery hurried out to the waiting room, where he stopped short.
The entire football team from the GHU campus had come, more than fifty men filling into the cramped space, which had twelve chairs. Avery was flummoxed by the conglomeration of young bucks in loose-fitting sweatpants and ripped t-shirts.
“Youths…” Avery furrowed his brow. There was a time when he sought the vitality of young men. And he still did, in his own way. But Avery was more mature now. He had more to lose. He did not like the way they leaned on his chairs and the counter and the bamboo mats on the wall, and he could smell their feet from here, or maybe that was them, not just their feet, but Avery didn’t like it.
He wrinkled his nose.
They all spoke at once, the air filling with bravado, threats and challenges. At least three spoke to Avery, who couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Two of the young men began arm-wrestling, which required them to get down on the floor on their bellies. The armwrestling, Avery later determined, was to decide which of the two “called dibs on upstairs for the party tonight, broh”. Six of them explained simultaneously why that was important. It involved girls. They wanted to fuck, presumably.
Avery could sympathize with that. He didn’t feel the same way, but he understood the impulse.
“Hey, hey, shut up, y’all, e’ryone shut up!” shouted the square-jawed quarterback, Jimmy, who looked like a Disney prince with a powerful shock of blond hair and broad shoulders like a plow. His brilliant eyes flashed handsomely. He made Avery’s heart flutter. His muscles rippled under the jersey he wore, not a jersey for his team, it was a 49ers jersey.
That was when Avery spotted Quinn Webblehutt, the quiet one in the corner, looking like he didn’t want to be noticed. He sat in a chair properly, and he blushed when he laughed. He avoided eye contact with Avery.
That’s because Avery knew Quinn. He came in last weekend.
Quinn was a freshman linebacker, and he was fat. He was also very strong and athletic and he was very fast for his size, but he was more than four hundred pounds and he had a belly that could fit a dozen Averys. He had come into the massage parlor and gotten a massage. Afterwards, he took out his disgusting fat dick and farted with his disgusting fat ass and told Avery to “lube up”.
That fucking asshole had come in here thinking Avery was some kind of cum receptacle of last resort for peanut-dicked hairy lardasses. Quinn said that he was being hazed, that he was told he had to come here and ram the fuck out of Avery and that Avery was to bend over and take it in whatever position Davy chose.
Anyway, Avery might choose to service a man he liked, someone with a physique worth admiring. But he did not take watery loads from some nineteen-year-old behemoth who smelled like a load of bread that got left out in the rain, and he did not appreciate his services being assumed. He said that first to Quinn and second on the phone to the head coach at the GHU athletic department. Coach Marshall Shapiro.
Now Quinn was over there in the corner looking chagrined as a toddler, eyes aimed at his feet. He didn’t talk to anyone.
“Hey, y’all, shut up!” Jimmy shouted again and again until they finally fell more or less quiet. Jimmy cleared his throat and spoke to Avery. “Uh, look… So, we heard, like… You were pretty mad ’bout the, you know… hazing.” Jimmy smiled, showing off his dimples. A girl could drown in those dimples, Avery thought. Jimmy flashed his grin like he thought it would get him out of any problem. “We didn’t mean that you had to, y’know… do anything. It wasn’t like… it was just a little thing that got out of control. You know, hazing. Nobody was like… it wasn’t required.”
A few of the other players laughed. Avery crossed his arms over his chest. He felt very small right now, but powerful.
“So, uh… We… I — I, very much, but also we, we need you to call Coach Marshall, and, uh, tell him that we’re okay now. You gotta tell him we apologized and everything’s alright, broh. It’s all good. He won’t stop being, like… he’s been like very shouty, it’s been, you know… Like…” Jimmy blushed like Quinn, as an underhushing arose from the assembled jocks, some of whom played out like they were grabbing each other’s balls and squeezing, which made them silently laugh. That made Avery suspect Coach Marshall had squeezed the shit out of Jimmy’s balls. “Coach Marshall was like… mega-pissed. I mean, you just gotta tell him that, alright? Tell him you accepted our apology.”
“You haven’t apologized,” Avery said.
“Oh, yeah.” Jimmy stripped off his shirt and flexed his muscles in front of Avery’s face. His chest was broad and clean, brightly pale, his six-pack etched, his pecs rippling like a sea in a storm. He got down on his knees as though he was going to propose marriage. “I’m sorry. I apologize for not respecting you and having the… not respect to, uh… I’m an in-grate. I was in-grating. I was ingrated. Ingrating to you. Disrespectfully,” he said. So… I apologize.” Then his eyes lit up. “And Quinn’s a fucking dumbass, I made him run a buncha laps and do this thing… It’s gross, but it’s like… He sucked on my jockstraps for a whole practice-” The players all tittered. “It was in his helmet. It’s cool, he’s cool You’re cool, man. We’re cool. All cool now.” He raised his eyebrows in Avery’s direction.
“Hmm.”
“And, to make up for it,” Jimmy said with a wry grin and a smile. “You can — you don’t got to — but you can, if you want… You can pick one of us, and uh… y’know…” He blushed. “You can do, like… If you want ‘em in ya ass, y’know… Whoever you pick gonna do it. Anyone you want.” He again made his pecs ripple and flexed his six-pack in Avery’s direction. A few guys snorted and snickered at him. Jimmy smiled again. He seemed to think Avery would pick him, presumably because he was the one girls threw themselves at. His body language suggested the picking was just a formality, and it was already a given that Jimmy would be the choice.
Avery smiled. “So you’re going to apologize for assuming I wanted to get it up the ass from a stranger by allowing me to pick the stranger?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Well, yeah. Kinda.” He paused. “Yes. That exactly, that’s what we’re doing. Sorry, is that-?”
“That’s fine,” Avery said, but he rolled his eyes. That seemed like a bad lesson for Coach Marshall to be teaching. But Avery really did want to take it up the ass from someone in this room. A linebacker, in fact, not the quarterback Jimmy. Not the freshman linebacker Quinn.
The entire room was silent. Avery’s heart thumped. These men all looked at him.
Avery already knew who he was going to choose. There was a senior linebacker with pale skin and a massive barrel-shaped frame, kneeling because there were no more chairs available. He was big and brutish in a crude, cavemanish way. He was Gravyboat — his real name was Davy. He looked like the kind of beast that Avery wanted. He was exactly the kind of man Avery wanted most: too big and too raunchy for girls, too hairy, too rough, crude, rude and overwhelmingly massive. His hair was thick and greasy, his chin scruffy, his clothes stained and torn. He didn’t have a six-pack at all, but he wasn’t fat either. He had just the right amount of heft over his powerful body.
“Who you want, huh?”
“He’ll pick Jimmy. Or Raython if he likes black dick, like Kelly-“
“Shut up, broh-“
“Don’t give him ideas, nigga!”
“-jacked me off in the exam room-“
“Fuck you-“
Avery just ignored their arguments. He walked slowly through the crowd, tickling each one. He grabbed their asses and even kissed their biceps as though carefully inspecting each player to see who fit his needs. When a pair of cocky black guys pulled their dicks out together to show off how big they were, Avery gave each one a stroke and nodded.
“Nice ones, sure,” Avery said. He was about to move on, but then he had an idea. “Sword-fight.”
They must not have heard that term, cuz they both looked confused for a moment, then their eyes lit up at the same time. They flopped their limp dicks at each other, laughing and jumping away, then they came closer and did it again as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. A few others did the same — sword-fighting right there in the waiting room — but Avery just moved on.
“Sorry guys, stop by and see me sometime. Come together.” He winked at them, and they both erupted in furious laughter, which made their dicks jiggle like fat baseball bats in an earthquake. Avery moved on down the line. “Don’t stop swordfighting.”
The two black guys — Raython and Easy — laughed and chortled, and they kept their dicks touching. They avoided looking at each other or at Avery after that, they just kept their heads cocked to the side as their fronts jutted towards each other so their limp cocks smushed against each other. Easy and Raython more or less stopped sword-fighting, they watched Avery instead, but they did keep their dicks touching, which Avery appreciated.
But he kept on going, tracing the outline of one handsome stud’s pectoral muscles and even kissing his bare nipple, prompting another outpouring of chatter and laughter from the others. But Avery at last stopped when he reached the one they called Gravyboat, who kneeled in a ratty old t-shirt without sleeves.
“Lift your arm,” Avery said.
Gravyboat furrowed his brow, but did so, emitting a baritone laugh to conceal his anxiety as his teammates chuckled. Avery hadn’t gone for anyone else’s armpit. But Gravyboat was sweaty and unwashed, and Avery could tell that he was going to be fragrant. Avery sniffed his armpit, which was rank and made Avery’s cock throb in his pants. The team erupted in applause, and Gravyboat blushed — it took a lot for him to be embarrassed, but that was enough.
“Gravyboat! Gravyboat! Gravyboat!”
“Do the Gravyboat!”
The “Grayboat” was a dance and an intimidation tactic on the field. Gravyboat had a deep voice befitting his massive size, and when he let out a warcry, it could be heard over the cheering fans in the stadium, at least on the sidelines. He did a shaking-ass dance at the same time. The crowd went wild, always did. He had spent hours practicing it back in high school.
But it felt awkward to do it now, off the field, outside of practice and in front of this tiny flamboyant weirdo. Gravyboat did it because his friends demanded it. He roared and flexed his muscles all at once, cringing because he felt Avery’s feminine fingers stroking him as he did.
It was a joke because Gravyboat did not have a perfect body. Not fat like Quinn, Gravyboat — Davy Mitchell — was just thick. He was perfectly thick, in Avery’s view. The other football players mostly competed on their six-packs. It was only Gravyboat, Quinn and a handful of others who had any meat on their bones.
Gravyboat blushed so red Avery wondered if he was going to pass out, while Avery’s hands explored his chest and the firmness underneath the padding atop his torso. He even licked a trail from Gravyboat’s neck — which Avery had to practically jump up to reach — down to his pecs, feeling his lungs expel that awesome cloud from his cavernous lungs. His anxiety made his pecs and stomach and shoulders and arms all ripple in turn.
“I choose you,” Avery said, just in case it wasn’t obvious. “Will you carry me into the room?”
Gravyboat blushed. Part of why he had adopted the Gravyboat-persona was that he found it difficult to present himself well — he didn’t have the patience to wash and brush his hair, to shave, to wear deodorant every single day, to always shower after a workout, to do his laundry and wear clean clothes. He found that the best way to overcome the teasing and snickering was to get so big and muscular that people were scared of him and to pretend that his behavior was a deliberate choice, that it came with being The Gravyboat.
But he had never been sexy as far as he was concerned. He got girls sometimes, but they never seemed satisfied with him. They told him when to shower (seemingly all the time), they tried to get him to cut his hair, shave his chest, wear beard-oil, which he thought was preposterous, and even cologne, which he hated.
So he blushed beet-red as he scooped Avery up in his arms and carried him into the back of the massage parlor. His friends laughed, clapped and slapped Gravyboat’s plump asscheeks as he walked past them. Avery laughed too, and one of his arms wrapped around Gravyboat’s barrel-shaped body to hug his thickness close.
In the massage room, Gravyboat put Avery down. It was impossibly quiet back here, once the door slammed shut, the carrying-on in the waiting room now sounding distant and faded. Gravyboat’s smile disappeared. Gravyboat wondered if he smelled bad, or if he looked dumb and unfashionable. Why didn’t Avery choose someone who knew how to pick out clothes? He was surprised that Avery had gone for him instead of Jimmy, whom the girls loved and who always wore impeccable clothing, or one of those black tight ends who danced well and smelled like coconut lotion. One of them had an old dude who jerked him off for money all the time. He says — the old dude says — the cum of a young black athlete will make his own dick bigger and his erections last longer.
Maybe that was true. Gravyboat was still not gonna drink a black dude’s cum. He blushed and looked down at his ugly boxish shoes, which he had to buy at a fat dude’s store.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked. “You look nervous. It won’t hurt, I promise. You’ll like it.”
Gravyboat shrugged. “I ain’t never done this.” He blushed again and bit his lip. “I mean… I’ll do it, I don’t care. Ass is ass, right?” He pounded on his chest and made that warcry again — no dance this time, cuz the massage room was small — the sound prompted whooping and cheers from out in the hall, where some of his teammates listened at the door — but now it sounded forced and weak, at least to Gravyboat himself. They weren’t into it. If you do it too much, the crowd loses interest, Gravyboat had learned that. Always leave ’em wanting more.
Avery giggled. He liked Gravyboat’s machismo being inhibited by his anxiety. It was cute. Gravyboat’s hairy body trembled as Avery pulled his shorts down. His crotch smelled strongly, not bad, but it smelled of fresh sweat and old cum. It smelled like the crotch of a man who jacked off a lot.
That was exactly true. Gravyboat did jack himself off a lot. The women threw themselves at Jimmy and Raython, not Gravyboat and Quinn.
He bristled and firmed up as soon as Avery touched his cock. He jiggled and grunted. Not knowing how to react, he stood motionless, like he was at a doctor’s appointment. He opened his eyes wide, arms forming fists that dangled stiffly at his side. He murmured to himself as his dick got rock-hard right away.
“You sure get hard quick. You must be real horny,” Avery said. He smiled.
His cock throbbed in Avery’s grasp. Gravyboat stared at it like it was disobeying him. He gulped and looked at Avery. “I get girls. I had a girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t implying anything,” Avery said. “You have such a big dick. You must have hurt your girlfriend, huh?”
Flattery seemed to help Gravyboat relax. He grunted his acknowledgment as his dick throbbed. It was thick as a coke can, smooth aside from one clear vein running up the undershaft. Avery liked how it pulsated in his grip.
When it was fully hard, Avery put the tip in his mouth. Gravyboat sucked in his breath, which Avery both heard and felt in his cock twinging. Avery giggled around the meat in his mouth, which he licked and slathered spit on. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft.
“Wait, wait,” Gravyboat covered his eyes with one arm. He shifted his weight on his feet.
Avery did not wait right away. He wanted to make sure Gravyboat felt the pleasure of Avery’s cock on his shaft, as Avery slurped and spat up all up over it. Both of Avery’s hands worked it too. When Gravyboat stilled looked too tense, Avery pulled his mouth off it. He kissed it on the piss-slit. “You have a nice cock.” He thwacked it on his own face. It was so thick and heavy it was like a club, but Avery enjoyed the meatiness of it when it slapped against his flesh.
“This is so weird. Raython does it all the time. He has an old guy. White guy. I think he hasn’t said, oh shit, my god, shit, so like, his name is Raython, he’s the one out there with… I don’t know, what, a shirt probably it’s cool but anyway he’s okay, he’s okay, Raython is, what was I saying. Raython Lake. That’s his name. The black guy, I don’t know the white guy’s name. I guess maybe he’s not white, I don’t know. Raython just says he’s ‘my old guy’. He buys him beer and stuff. Shirts.” Gravyboat sounded like a man on the verge of exploding. “Uh-uh. So that’s cool. I’m not asking you to buy me anything! I mean, just, I was sayin’, Raython does it all the time.”
Avery wasn’t listening. He stuck his tongue out and ran it down Grayboat’s shaft, then slurped up some of the spit he left behind. Gravyboat’s voice wavered and broke. He gasped.
Once the taste of salty precum hit Avery’s tongue, he knew Gravyboat was ready for the next step. Avery turned around and bent over. Gravyboat stood perfectly upright, chest as he pretended he wasn’t nervous. He was glad Avery’s ass was smooth and hairless, like a girl’s.
“Oh…” Gravyboat grunted in surprised as his manhood slipped into Avery’s ass. He was expecting it to be uncomfortable — the girls he had fucked in the ass had been small and delicate and unsure about Gravyboat’s size and his willingness to go slow, so those experiences had not been entirely successful. He had never had someone take charge of forcing his uncut cock into their tight asshole before. He just stood there like an idiot, arms flailing in mid-air.
Then he slapped Avery’s asscheek and groaned. He blushed, thinking it was too weird to touch Avery’s ass. But he couldn’t stop himself. It felt so good to spread those cheeks and give himself better access to Avery’s tight hole, which he drilled into inexorably. Avery’s cheeks even jiggled kinda, not exactly like a girl’s but not entirely unlike a girl’s. Gravyboat was glad to not have a girl telling him to slow down every few seconds. He was glad that Avery didn’t even consider backing out because his dick was too big or because his breath smelled like garlic fries.
He had intended to remain like that, standing upright, so he didn’t have to touch Avery. But as his orgasm approached, Gravyboat found himself losing his inhibitions.
“Open that ass up, damn…” His voice was hoarse and monstrous, he thought, and it caused Avery to shudder.
That wasn’t actually his voice that made Avery shudder, it was his cock, sending sparks of sensation up Avery’s spine. He was adept at taking big cocks, but Gravyboat’s was exceptionally thick, and it filled him up in a most delightful way. Avery intended to make loud orgasm sounds to embarrass Gravyboat in front of his friends, but it turned out to feel so good he didn’t have a choice. He made those sounds by instinct, and he cried out for more.
Finally he wrapped one of his broad arms around Avery’s face, and they both went down to the ground. Gravyboat didn’t mind. The idea of rutting on the floor was nasty and raunchy and perfect. Avery was too enthralled by the intense pressure in his ass to even consider the location important.
Gravyboat’s chest rubbed against Avery’s smooth back as he slammed his cock in and out. He was aware of his teammates peering in through the door, shushing each other and running away when they caught a glimpse. Someone even threw something at him, maybe a paper airplane? He was too engrossed in Avery’s ass to go look.
“Ah, fuck!” Gravyboat roared. He pounded away at Avery’s ass, using his entire body to drill Avery into the massage room floor. Avery was only dimly aware of the discomfort and pain that resulted, because his prostate exploded in intense pleasure.
Avery barely even touched his cock before an orgasm erupted within him. He moaned, the sound drowned out by Gravyboat’s baritone bellow. He writhed, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Cum flew into his ass, while Avery shot his own jizz too, onto the floor.
So much cum filled him up that Avery could do little more than lay there and bask in the glory of creamy heat seeping into him. The puddle of cum on the floor from his own load coated his belly.
As he shot his wad, Gravyboat didn’t stop fucking. He kept grunting, the sound breaking, interrupted with moist exhalations as he slathered spit over the back of Avery’s head. He gripped Avery in a tight chokehold, making it hard to breathe.
“Fuck, broh, take it, don’t move, don’t move.” Gravyboat’s voice was plaintive and desperate. His hot breath condensed on Avery’s cheek. “Shit.”
They were both motionless for a moment. Gravyboat’s cock shot another wad of cum, a final jet of heat seeping into Avery’s guts, and Avery felt it trickle out of his ass. It puddled up on the floor of Avery’s massage room.
Then all at once, they both fell limp. Gravyboat landed on top of Avery, plopping there, his dick limpening inside him. Avery was utterly unable to breathe, or tell Gravyboat to get of. He couldn’t even squirm.
He wasn’t upset though.He exulted in the feel of Gravyboat’s muscles enveloping him, the musk of his unwashed body potent now that he was covered in fresh sweat.
“Shit, man.” Gravyboat coughed. He got up, his dick plopping out of Avery’s ass. “Shit… Shit, man.” He took a deep breath.
Avery sat up, heaving for air. He was exhausted. He had never been taken a dick that felt that good. He stood on uneasy legs. “Thanks,” he said weakly.
Gravyboat nodded. His swarthy face was crimson from both embarrassment and exhaustion. He thought if he said anything, his voice might break, so he was quiet. He put his tattered jockstrap on without bothering to clean his cock off.
Jimmy stuck his head in the door, but kept his eyes aimed upward so he didn’t see anything. “Did you bite his head off, Gravyboat?”
“No. He was a perfect gentleman,” Avery said. He smiled at Gravyboat, who walked out carrying his clothes. He wore nothing but that jockstrap, which was soaked to transparency with the fluids that clung to Gravyboat’s cock. Gravyboat sniffled like he didn’t care as his teammates howled and slapped his hairy asscheeks, which were bare, cradled by that jockstrap. Those two black guys, Raython and Easy, were still dick-to-dick because Avery never said they could stop sword-fighting, and they still avoided looking at each other.
Jimmy furrowed his handsomeness in Avery’s direction. “Really? A gentleman?”
Avery nodded. “He was perfect. You can send me men like him anytime. I’ve got plenty of happy endings to give out.”

The Alpha in a Wrestling Singlet

Avery is summoned into a steamy sauna by a wrestling coach, cuz one of his athletes is in a rage-filled fury over a ref’s bad call, and only Avery’s tender touch — and his mouth — can calm this livid alpha! That’s cuz Marco’s a hothead with a need to dominate other men, which is something Avery is eager to sign up for.

Can Avery get Marco to calm down long enough to spill his seed?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery struggled to remain professional. He was in the men’s locker room at the Cornerside Gym near the GHU campus. The smell of sweat filled the air even though no one was in here. It stank of manhood. Avery had an urge to just go through smelling things, checking out the shower where it sounded like someone was still cleaning himself off. The locker room was full of clothes scattered over the floor. That’s because there was a wrestling match going on. The wrestlers had changed, gone out for the match and left their clothes behind.
That was the source of the smell that Avery craved. As a masseur working for the Cornerside Gym, he had to stay professional. He was not hired to sniff the jocks of this college wrestling team.
“Just wait here,” Coach Thickman said when they came to the physical therapy work-space at the back of the locker room, connected to it by a hallway. His bristly mustache shook. Avery suspected that Thickman was supposed to give him more instructions, but Thickman just walked away. “The match is over. Marco will be here soon.”
Avery didn’t know why he was here. He had been hired to give someone named Marco a massage, but Avery had a feeling that was just an excuse to get him here. Marco was probably going to ask for Avery to jerk him off.
That was also part of being a masseur for the Cornerside Gym. Avery was expected to — and was eager to — fulfill that part of his duties. Avery greatly admired the male form, and the Cornerside Gym was full of men with the most admirable of physiques. It was a serious gym, men only, home to real athletes and bodybuilders, and of course, this regional champion wrestling team.
A series of loud whoops and hollers filled the locker room. The sound echoed and resonated. They were angry, upset, Avery gathered, they must not have done well in the match. There were grunts, recriminations, possibly some almost-fights. Avery had to fight back his urge to sneak out there and watch. The physical therapy room was set back a little, with lockable doors since it was accessible from both the men’s and women’s locker rooms. Avery would have to step well out into the hall to see anything. He wondered if he’d get in trouble.
Then Marco entered with a scowl on his face. He was short, but he was a heavyweight, his body packed with muscle and body hair, which extended all the way to his shoulders. He had swarthy skin and dark eyes, with a curly mess of tangled black hair. His hawkbrown nose was hooked and regal — he was a dark hawkbrown, a darkhawk, as they say, not that Avery ascribes to that kind of thing. It had a crooked bent to it, like it had been broken recently.
“Yo.” Marco sneered. “Man!” He threw his hands in the air like he was upset. He turned back around. “Coach! I-” He took one step out of the door and rammed right into the beefy chest of Coach Thickman, who pushed him back into the physical therapy room.
“What?”
“Lemme go talk to that ref, coach. He made a mistake.” Marco’s voice was clipped, angry, almost sinister. He had a thick New York accent with a deep and guttural stawk in a barking baritone to it that made Avery shiver with delight. Marco straightened the tight straps of his wrestling singlet. His chest hair was matted to his skin with sweat. His pecs and his biceps and shoulders and back all kept rippling as though it took every muscle he had to adjust his cock in the crotch of his singlet and stretch then release each strap of the singlet.
He ran his fingers through the thick black mane of hair, which clung flat to his head cuz he was so sweaty and it was hot and humid in here. A few tufts suggested he normally combed it up, and he had a voluminous head of hair, so it probably looked great on him like that. Pity he had a harsh, cocky-asshole of a face, a very punchable face, handsome but you’d never see him play a good guy in a movie.
“No. You’ll hit him.”
Marco scowled. “No I won’t.” But he mean-mugged at Avery as if that was a lie. He again stretched the fabric of his sweat-soaked singlet. The GHU colors were silver and red, so there was a silver U whose lower part stretched to his crotch. His fat cock protruded against the fabric. Avery could see that it had fallen out of his jockstrap, probably because he kept scratching it and rearranging his junk in his singlet. He sniffled and rubbed his nose. He might have been sniffing the hand that just arranged his cock and balls in his singlet. “I won’t hit the pansy.” He glanced at Avery, then looked down at his feet and again rearranged his dick in his singlet. “I don’t hit pansies.”
“You can’t hit someone every time you lose, Marco. You said-“
“Lemme out there!”
“You can’t hit the ref!”
“Fine, lemme fuck the slut. Where’s that slut-?” Marco paced, his hefty ass jiggling up and down in his singlet. It was riding up in his asscrack, so he pulled the fabric out of it as he paced. “You said I could have a slut-“
Coach Thickman slapped Marco across the face. A loud ringing sound boomed and echoed through the locker room. The moist sweatiness of Marco’s skin could be heard in the slap. Thickman shoved Marco back into the physical therapy room. “Don’t make me lay down the law, boy. I let you have a lotta leeway. You know I can’t bring you a female, the university is lookin’ into that shit, I could get fired if they found out. They wouldn’t even let me keep a cheerleader calendar in my office, cuz it could give you boys stiffies you can’t control, you gonna go groping waitresses at the Waffle House and shit, damn-“
“That wasn’t me!” Marco said.
“Shut yo’ fool mouth, sumbitch!” Thickman said. He jabbed a finger in Marco’s face. “You get’cha temper under control!” He sucked on his teeth, mean-mugging Marco harshly. “You got that Latin blood, that’s what that is. You got pepper under yo’ collar.” He feigned like he was gonna smack Marco in the balls, and Marco flinched. Thickman laughed and patted him on the cheek of the face, then the cheek of the ass. “So slow yo’ roll, whiteboy.”
“I told you it ain’t my fault!” Marco shouted. He pounded on his chest. Avery detected a casual stawk in his voice, like he was from New York or pretended to be. “Lemme out there, I ain’t a pussy. I can kick that blond motherfucker’s ass too, that last one I wrestled. He wrestled like a rank coward, like he don’t know nothing, Coach, swear to Christ! He over there in the other locker room, right? C’mon, he ain’t gonna bitch me out. No way. I ain’t lookin’ like a sloppy punk-ass sumbitch! I’ll go right over there, coach, swear to fuckin’ Christ! I’ll rip his goddamn nuts off and shove ‘em down that ref’s throat! I keeps it real, you know that!”
“Marco!” Coach Thickman barked. He smacked Marco again, and Marco stepped towards him like they were going to fight. Thickman pushed Marco, who was red-faced and fuming now, unable to stand still. He came at Thickman as though trying to pick a fight with someone behind him, even though there was no one there.
“You promised, Coach, you said you’d get me a girl! You said that! I ain’t playin’, I ain’t that kinda man! That fuckhead from Portsmouth State, man, I swear, you know I could have kicked his ass if it wasn’t for that damn ref!”
“Marco, shut up!” Thickman wrapped one arm around Marco’s head and put him in a tight headlock. Marco screamed and twisted, trying to get out of it, but he ended up only ensconced more tightly in Thickman’s arms. Thickman shouted incomprehensibly. Marco was bent backwards, with made his sweat-soaked crotch bulge aim upward. Avery’s eyes were drawn to it.
Marco was uncut. Avery could see that through the singlet. He licked his lips.
There was a long awkward pause. Avery was both nervous because this had turned into a very angry encounter for no comprehensible reason and aroused because Marco’s massive body rubbed against Coach Thickman’s. Marco’s sweat rubbed off on Thickman’s muscled flesh, which made his white polo shirt translucent.
“You okay? You better now?” Thickman asked when there had been a few moments of silence. Marco’s glistening chest heaved up and down, his pecs rippling under the straps of his singlet.
“Yeah. Fine. Lemme go.” Marco scoffed as though that should have been obvious, like he had never lost his temper. Thickman let him go. Marco again straightened his singlet. He glanced at Avery as though he hadn’t noticed him until now. “Man, coach-“
“Shut ya face, Marco.”
Marco bit his lip and looked down. His muscles were tense. He opened his mouth to complain a few more times, then stopped.
Thickman crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted me to keep you out of trouble, right? You wanted me to make sure you didn’t get kicked off the team and arrested?”
“Man… Just… I won’t hit him.” Marco didn’t sound like he believed that even as he said it.
“Who? Some random lady in the parking lot?”
Marco sucked on his teeth. “No!” Coach Thickman glared at him. Marco cleared his throat. “The ref, man.”
“He’s gone, Marco. The only person you’ll find out there you can hit is maybe a lady in the parking lot.”
“I can go after that blond fuck from Portsmouth State. He wrestled like a fucking pussy, Thickman-“
Thickman slapped him again. “Do not call me Thickman, you little shit. You speak to me with respect.”
“Sorry, Coach.” Marco shifted his weight between his feet.
Thickman looked at Avery. “This is Marco. He’s a fucking moron with a temper problem. His idiot brain is always picking fights-“
“Man, Coach-” He sucked on his teeth.
“Shut up. Every time he loses he throws a little baby hissyfit and punches someone. Then I gotta clean up his messes with the police, with his teammates, with the dean, with the goddamn rabbi that one time-“
“It ain’t a hissyfit, shut up! I ain’t a fuckin’ pussy, coach, I’ll kick anyone’s ass, swear to Christ! I’ll come at those motherfuckers with e’rything — I’ll punch a Jew if he comes at me, you know that, I keep it real, Coach! Motherfuckers are always comin’ at me-“
“Shut up!” Thickman roared. “Which motherfuckers, Marco? There’s no motherfuckers here to hit. You just lost a match. You can’t get arrested every time that happens.”
“I ain’t get arrested every time it happens!”
“Sixty percent of the time!”
“Not every time! That ain’t every time!”
Thickman sighed. “You said you needed to get a nut out, Marco-“
“Not a man!”
“You specifically said you didn’t care! We agreed on this! You said you ain’t care cuz you a top. As long as you get ya dick wet, it don’t matter. Ah, coach, you don’t even know, where I come from, real man gotta stick his dick in someone, just fuck the shit outta her, or him, it’s all pink on the inside! I make any kinda bitch squeal!” Thickman did an exaggeratedly caveman-like impression. “Remember? The hood in Brooklyn.”
“I ain’t say that! I ain’t say that! I was just talkin’ ‘bout, y’know, my old ‘hood back in New York, coach. That’s how wise guys do it, y’know. They don’t care ‘bout males…” Marco’s voice trailed off. He looked at Avery like he had just noticed him there. “I mean… Yeah, hell yeah, I can do it. You ready, boy? I’m-a rock ya world.” He grabbed his dick through his singlet and shook it in Avery’s direction. “Wreck ya ass, boy. Like the old country.”
Thickman slapped him again. “What’d I say about that shit?” He lightly smacked Marco’s ass through that tight blue singlet. “Go’n cornhole him. He’s into it.” He looked at Avery, who eagerly nodded. Thickman smacked Marco’s ass again, making his cheeks jiggle like Mount Aetna. “Go’n hurry up. Don’t hit him.”
“I won’t!” Then Marco was quiet for a long time, chewing on his lower lip. His anger seemed to have diminished, but his chest still heaved, soaked in aggression-fueled sweats. “What happened to that girl?”
Thickman sighed. “I tol’ you that ain’t happenin’, on account of two reasons. Firstly, you lost and I ain’t bringin’ you no girl when you lose.”
“Man…”
“Secondly, you called that girl a bitch and a slut and a ho. You tried to get her to suck ya brother’s dick.”
“So? She could’ve done it.”
“Marco… You told me you couldn’t concentrate cuz the girls around here are prudes. You said you’d stop getting in trouble if you-“
“Coach-!”
“You said that! You said you needed to drain ya nuts! You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout double-teamin’ some slut with your brother! Who ain’t even in this state, dumbass! What’d you think she was gonna do? Hang out in here while your brother drives for eight hours to get a blowjob?”
“Man, shut up!”
“She said you were too mean and too hairy and you said you took a shower but she didn’t think you took a shower and you fucked her too rough and you got a dick that looks like a goblin!”
“She did not!”
“She did! She said all that! She said she chargin’ extra for you next time. I don’t blame. Son, you nasty. Get right wit’ God.”
Marco hung his head. He shrugged and sucked on his teeth. “Whatever, that bitch was a fuckin’ prude, and she had a stank ass.”
“She had a stank ass? Shut up, Marco. Just go stick the pansy. Don’t hit him.”
“I won’t,” Marco said. He looked at Avery and shrugged. “Alright, then. You, uh… How, y’know, how you wanna do this?”
Coach Thickman scoffed. “I thought you knew how to use ya dick like a champion, Marco? Remember? Like in the old country? Of Brooklyn? You can get ya nut off in-“
“Shut up. Get outta here. I don’t wanna do it wit’ ya old-ass watching me.”
“Keep talkin’ ‘bout my ass, boy, you’ll find your tongue deep inside it,” Thickman said. “I’m-a wait right outside, so you ain’t tempted to start punching.”
“I wouldn’t. Punching sissies is like punching girls. You ain’t allowed to do that,” Marco said indignantly as Thickman went to the hall. He faced towards the locker room. Marco looked back at Avery. Despite Marco’s apparent confidence, his face looked tense and nervous, and he yet again rearranged his cock in his singlet and ran the same hand through his mop of hair.
“That’s why she said you stink,” Avery said.
“What?” Marco said with a snort.
“You keep touching your balls,” Avery said. “Then your hair, or you rub your nose. It makes you smell like ballsweat.
Marco snorted again. He threw his eyebrows way back. “What? Oh.” He grunted. “Okay. Thanks.”
Avery nodded. “Be gentle with girls.”
“Man, shit, shut up, you dunno nothin,” Marco said.
Avery walked right up to him, ignoring his fluttering heart. The scent of Marco’s post-match sweat filled the air. It was intense because it clung both to his body hair — which was substantial — and his singlet. Avery planted his tongue on Marco’s chest right above the edge of his singlet, which Marco began to remove.
“I done this before, man,” Marco said. “It ain’t shameful for me, y’know, cuz I’s on top. I ain’t no less of a man, nuh-uh.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “That’s how it is in th old country. Italy.”
“Of course,” Avery said. He dropped to his knees as Marco’s singlet landed on the floor. He wore a plain jockstrap, which Avery removed, making his thick, uncut cock pop out. He had a heavy pair of low-hangers too, which Avery cupped in one hand.
“Yeah, there it is, man, swallow that shit,” he said. He smacked Avery across the face with it. “Is it the biggest you’ve ever seen?”
“Hell yeah it is,” Avery said, following the shaft with his mouth. He stuck his tongue out until Marco held still long enough for him to lick it. The unwashed taste of body sweat and sun-drenched male flesh hit Avery’s tongue, making him moan. It wasn’t actually the biggest cock Avery had ever seen — it wasn’t even the biggest — but it was plenty big and Avery thought Marco’s arrogance was alluring, so he said it was the biggest. “By far the biggest, man, for sure.” He chased it with his tongue.
“I know,” he said. He sniffled like it didn’t matter. He kept thwacking Avery over the face with it though, emphasizing how it was almost as long as Avery’s entire face. It was thick and meaty too, and it was indeed uncut, just as Avery suspected when he saw it through the singlet.
Avery took that foreskin-clad tip in hand, and he started stroking it. He didn’t often get to jerk off uncut men, so it was a nice change of pace. He liked the way it seemed to have excess skin as he stroked it up and down, but then it grew more taut as it firmed up under the grip of his hands and his tongue. The funky smell of Marco’s dick got even more intense when it hardened up and that cocktip came out to play.
As a series of aggressive moans came outta Marco’s throat, Avery slathered spit up and down it, slobbering saliva all over the shaft. Marco bristled, shuffling his weight between his feet. Marco’s face showed his anxiety and his surprise at how good this felt, but he scoffed like he wasn’t impressed and kept his eyes away from Avery’s.
Avery said, as though the answer should have been obvious, “You’re Italian, right?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. He thwacked Marco’s fat erection over his face. Each time it hit Avery’s tongue and bounced off, it jiggled and roped over his nose and his forehead. And each time Marco twitched like he had seen a ghost. His cock pulsated atop Avery’s face. “So you’ll do it old-country style? Or not? Doesn’t matter to me, that’s just how real Italians do it. It’s a machismo thing.”
He sniffled and shifted his weight between his feet. He wiped his face off. “Hell yeah,” he grunted. “‘Course I do it that way, slut. I know what it means.” He sniffled. “I’m from Brooklyn, dawg. We keep it real.”
“Oh, great, okay,” Avery said. His heart thumped. Was this really working? He turned around and aimed his ass for Marco’s cock. “What’s that Italian saying? A virile man makes his bottom feel it all. I don’t remember it in Italian.”
“That’s right.” He spoke in stuttering Italian, a language he obviously had only a dim knowledge of. “Uh-huh. That’s how you say that.”
He was so focused on his dick sliding into Avery’s ass that he barely seemed to notice his hand being brought around to Avery’s front. The heat emanating from his sweat-soaked chest hit Avery’s smooth back, as his cock rammed its way up Avery’s backside. That sent a spasm of pleasure to wrack Avery’s body, and he let out a harsh, jagged moan of a breath. Avery dragged Marco’s to his own cock and had Marco start stroking, just as his manhood filled Avery’s ass up all the way.
“Ah shit!” Marco yelped and backed his hand away when he realized he was giving Avery a reacharound. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, I thought you were going to gimme a reacharound? That’s how the toughest tops do it in prison and stuff, y’know, but that’s fine,” Avery said with a grin. “That’s how mafia guys do it. I thought you were from New York? They’ve got old-country Italians there, I just assumed you were into that.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. Yeah,” Marco said with an indignant sniffle. His hand moved slowly back to Avery’s cock, and he gulped as he touched it. “Yeah, ‘course. That’s how they do it in the old country. It ain’t, y’know, America is… things is different over there.”
“Your cock is so big,” Avery said with a moan. He leaned his head back, which both allowed him to grind his ass onto Marco’s cock while licking his chest hair as well as gave Marco easy access to Avery’s cock. Avery got swallowed up in the thickness of his arms and his chest.
It was an awkward reacharound, but Avery didn’t mind. The nervous yet cocky sounds emanating from Marco’s throat made the awkwardity worth it. Avery turned his face to the side so he could suck all the wrestling sweat off Marco’s chest, while his body squirmed and experienced Marco’s increasingly harsh ramming.
Soon he slammed his dick in all the way with each thrust of his hips. At first he seemed to want to do it hard enough to make Avery tell him to slow down, but when it became clear that wouldn’t happen, he stopped trying. Instead he closed his eyes, bit his lip and slammed his dick in and out as hard as he could. His balls slapped agsinst Avery’s asscheeks.
But Avery wasn’t surprised that Marco had trouble keeping a girl after fucking her — he was not gentle, and he wasn’t aggressive in an obviously good way either. Avery loved it because he liked a little pain, and he thought Marco’s machismo was hot. Girls, Avery thought, would find it a lot less appealing. That, he thought, must be why Marco was so angry and high-strung.
That and the smelling-like-ballsweat thing.
“Alright, boy, gonna fill you up,” Marco said with a grunt. He held Avery’s body in place with one hand while his other stroked Avery off. He had no sooner warned Avery when his balls crawled up in his sac. He stopped moving for just a moment, grunted in Avery’s ear and then let go of him.
Hot cum sprayed into Avery, great arcing jets of it that filled him up and turned his prostate on. Before Marco had even finished cumming, Avery was having his own orgasm — luckily Marco didn’t notice Avery’s cum coating his fingers — as the most intense sensations of his life ran up his spine.
It was a moment that seemed to last forever, Avery being filled at one end while his own cock sprayed onto Marco’s pudgy fingers. His hairy Italian muscles rippled behind Avery’s back, and his hot breath condensed on Avery’s neck.
Marco pulled away the moment he was done, so quickly that the last few drops of his cum landed on Avery’s back. They dripped down his asscrack and onto the floor of the filthy locker room. He sighed like he had thought he might not be able to do that.
“Alright, Coach Thickman, I done it,” Marco said. He snorted and jogged in place, half-hard dick bouncing as it slowly limpened.
Thickman walked in and groaned at the sight of his hard cock. “Boy, cover yourself up.”
But Marco just glared first at his singlet and jockstrap, then at Coach Thickman, then at Avery, then back at Thickman. “Nah,” he said like a cocky jerk. He walked towards the locker room, stark-naked. “I gotta take a shower.”
Thickman followed him trying to make him put clothes on, but Marco ignored him. Avery didn’t mind. He stayed there with Marco’s jockstrap and singlet, sniffing it and bringing himself to a second orgasm that was so intense it was almost painful. He spurted his second wad onto the pile of sweat-soaked clothes Marco had worn in here and forgotten about on the floor.
When he was done, Avery gathered up the singlet and the jockstrap, he hurried out of there. Those, he thought, were going to give him orgasms for many nights to come.

The White Trash

Avery’s surprise encounter with the white trash hunk Calloway leads to a bout of intense rough trade, as he gets to swing on the trashiest redneck this side o’ the holler!

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Calloway Hitch stumbled home, exhausted. His boss dropped him off at just past four o’clock in the morning at the entrance to Smashwood Trailer Park. He probably would have driven into the trailer park, right to Calloway’s front door if Calloway had asked him to.
But he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want him to do that, it was too awkward.
He thought there was a chance his girlfriend had kicked him out. He didn’t want to get dropped off at a trailer with a sign on the door saying Calloway fuck off! It would be awkward. Calloway was used to it. He could just sleep on the grass, and his boss would never have to know what a deadbeat he was.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t already dirty.
He worked on a road crew rebuilding the parking lot at the local hospital. His job involved standing around, sometimes for hours, then working furiously to dig trenches. It wasn’t specialized labor but it was boring and it was physically arduous and it left him covered head to toe in dirt.
Clumps of dirt clung to every scrap of skin that was visible, and some had even gotten under his pants somehow — he was shirtless because it was a hot Mississippi night, so his chest was absolutely covered in dirt. It had been mud originally, but it dried into just plain dirt.
The farther he got from his boss’s truck, the more tired he became. The adrenaline flowed out of his veins, and every step he took was wearying. He was increasingly sure his girlfriend would have found a reason to be pissed at him.
Sure enough, when he got close to the trailer, he saw a piece of paper on the door to his trailer. He groaned. He felt so tired he didn’t even want to keep going to read it. He could just curl up here on the grass and sleep.
But he wanted to read it. What if the note said Daenerys has a fever, we’re at the hospital? He’d look like an absolute piece of shit if he never showed up to see his own daughter at the hospital just because he was too lazy to get close enough to read the note.
So he staggered there on tired legs. Sure enough it read fuck off Calloway yr child spprt check bounced again will call cops if u come in go away go away go away. He let out a growl aimed at no one in particular. He didn’t understand why that check had bounced, he had thought there was enough money in there to cover it.
“Goddamn fuck!” He shouted at the sky. He knew he ought to be quiet, but he was upset and he needed to express it. Somewhere a dog barked.
A light turned on in the trailer. Calloway groaned and spat on the ground. He didn’t want to get in trouble and he couldn’t handle getting arrested again, but if that bitch baby-mama of his was going to come out here, he was going to defend himself.
“There you are, Calloway, you piece of shit! Daenerys needs school clothes-“
“So do I, bitch!” Calloway shouted, pointing at his shirtless body and tattered old jeans.
His girlfriend wore one of his oversized tee shirts over a pair of shorts. She came out with a baseball bat in her hand. She was red-faced and puffy because she had been asleep — and probably was binge-drinking — until moments ago. “You told me you’d pay up this month-“
“I tried, but you kept borrowin’ money for beer-“
“Don’t try to pawn this off on me, you deadbeat piece-of-shit-“
“If I’m a dead beat, you’re an entire dead rap-“
Not that far away, Avery woke up with a start. He had found an empty trailer in the Smashwood Trailer Park and moved in yesterday. He went outside just in time to see Calloway curse at some of the neighbors who had poked their heads out of their trailers. Nobody called the cops in places like this, not unless it was absolutely necessary, they just shouted at Calloway and “that bitch” to shut up.
“Why don’t you go suck that cop’s dick again?!” Calloway shouted at her as she backed into the trailer. “Maybe his cum is beer! You dumbass bitch!” He faced the neighbors in the rest of the trailer park. “She loves sucking off cops! She especially likes that fat motherfucker Heartley!”
Some people snickered. It wasn’t clear if they were laughing at Calloway for calling Officer Heartley fat or if they were laughing at Calloway’s girlfriend for sucking off a cop. Calloway smiled victoriously — he had obviously interpreted it as the latter, but the look on his girlfriend’s face as she went inside suggested she thought it was the former.
Calloway tried to look like he was confident and proud as he chose a spot on the grass. It was on her property, in front of her trailer, but it was close to the road. The grass was cool and dewy. It actually felt very good — it was moist, the cold wetness sliding over his bare chest and forming clean rivulets that ran down his chest.
Once some of the filth had been wiped off, a few tattoos were visible, pale looping lines, soldiers carrying American flags and an iron cross on his neck. Clumps of mud fell off his taut, leanly muscled chest. Avery watched him settle out and lay down. Calloway didn’t last very long though before he got back up and looked around to see who was up.
Calloway didn’t go to bed without drinking. He wasn’t an alcoholic, mind you, he just didn’t go to bed without drinking. He often had only a few drinks, it was just a way to relax and get sleepy.
But of course he didn’t have any, and his girlfriend wasn’t about to let him in to nab a beer (she had probably drank it all anyway). No one else was even awake.Was he going to have to sleep totally sober?
“Psst! Hey,” Avery said, approaching him in the darkness.
Calloway nodded at him as though he often chose to sit, covered in dirt and dew, in the grass at four o’clock in the morning. He didn’t recognize Avery. “Sup, man.”
“Hi. I’m Avery.”
“Sup.”
“I just moved in across the way,” Avery said. He pointed to his new trailer.
“Cool.” Calloway paused, then said, “Hey, you got any liquor? I need a drink. No biggie, I just need a little-“
“I do in my trailer, yeah,” Avery said. He came closer and sat down in the grass next to him. “I’ll give it to you. I’ve got five bottles — I filled out my bar when I moved in. I got a bottle each of vodka, brandy, rum, gin and tequila.”
“Ah, no shit? What? What’d you say your name was?” He looked at Avery as though he really mattered now.
“Avery.”
“Cool. Hey Avery, I’m Calloway. Lemme get a drink of that rum,” he said. As he said it, he thought there had to be a catch. This trailer park was home to tons of poor white trash like him — not quite as poor or as trashy as him, but still, no one who lived here believed there was such a thing as “extra rum”, and they never had bottles around the trailer without a plan to drink them in the near future.
“Sure, sure, but first… Will you cornhole me?”
Calloway paused for a long time, his face emotionless. Then he furrowed his eyebrows. The dirt that clung to his skin cracked because he didn’t often move in that direction, and little bits of it dropped over his face and his bare chest. “What?”
“Cornhole me,” Avery said. “I wanna taste your dick and feel you in my ass — you gotta cum inside me. You don’t pull out, do you?”
“Uh… What?”
Avery smiled. He reached for Calloway’s crotch, and Calloway sucked in his breath and scooted back. Calloway licked his lips. Avery moved very slowly so Calloway could get away if he wanted to. But Calloway just watched as Avery’s hand grabbed his cock through those mud-choked jeans.
“Is that cool? I’ll give you the best dome of your life, man.”
“Right here? I mean…”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be here,” Avery said. “It’s not that public.” They were not illuminated by the street lights strung up to the trees along the dirt road through the trailer park, and it was four o’clock in the morning, so no one was around. It was barely “in public” at all.
Calloway had a hollow hick laugh, and his heavily tattooed body shook. He was very muscular — not like a bodybuilder, like a worker, with heavily overdeveloped shoulders because he spent a lot of time digging trenches. He also spent most of his money on bills, debt, court fees and child support, with a hefty amount going to booze, weed and some occasional pills. He spent virtually no money on food.
So there was no padding anywhere on his body. Avery gently stroked his dick through his pants as Calloway hemmed and hawed, and Avery’s other hand began to touch his ribs. He had a perfectly flat belly, with not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen.
That didn’t mean he had a six-pack though. He didn’t go to the gym or work out in an organized enough fashion for an actual six-pack, his abs weren’t that well-developed. His limbs were skinny despite the corded-muscles attached to them.
Avery suspected he smoked meth, which wasn’t true — but only because he had cleaned up when he was last in prison. Calloway had smoked meth for years before getting locked up. Now he didn’t see any of that other stuff as being real drug use: the weed, the pills, none of that mattered as long as he stayed off the meth.
“Fine,” Calloway said. He smiled nervously, revealing his jagged teeth with a gaping hole on the front-bottom. He was missing a few teeth in the back too. He leaned over on his back on the grass, raising his arms over his head so he didn’t have to watch it happen.
“Have you ever been jerked off by a man before?” Avery asked. He unzipped Calloway’s jeans and pulled his dick out. It was long and not that thick, just like Calloway’s body, but it looked tasty. He flopped it over his face, and chased it with his tongue. When he did finally get a taste of it, Calloway shuddered and shook like he hadn’t thought that would really happen.
“Uh…” Calloway blushed. His voice was weak and wavery. “In prison, once. That was… not, uh… like this.” That had been totally different. His father had told him once that it ain’t none of that shit if there ain’t no females around, like in the Army. Calloway had taken that to heart. That had been the one thing he had been excited about in prison — getting jerked off by prison bitches all the time.
But it hadn’t really turned out like he had thought. Sissies in prison weren’t treated as bitches, they were treated like queens. They got to do anything they wanted. The one sissy Calloway had wanted to get dome from — because he was very girlish and had excellent, thick lips — refused on account of Calloway being a filthy hick who smelled like ball-sweat.
Not only was Calloway not allowed to force anyone into giving him dome, he couldn’t even pay or beg for one — he had only ever gotten that one nut off because he spent all weekend showering, even buying cologne in the Commissary, and then he had had to take “his man” out “on a date” in his prison cell. It had taken weeks to set up. It was more difficult to get jerked off on in the inside than it was on the outside.
This, however, had happened so quickly and so suddenly Calloway was still pondering it when it had happened. His pants were virtually ripped down and his cock plopped right into Avery’s mouth.
At last, he felt a twinge of pleasure. This dome was a little weird and awkward and he prayed that no one was awake to look out their window — even in the darkness, they could probably see what was happening — it was a full moon tonight, after all.
His dick soon firmed up in Avery’s mouth, long and throbbing against his tongue. Avery deep-throated him until his nose was buried in Calloway’s bushy pubic hair.
The taste was raunchy and sour, and it made Avery gag most deliciously. Calloway’s dick had the flavor of dirt and mud from the day’s work, and even more intensely, an underscent of old, stale dirt, the scent of dried mud and of dusty rooms, all clinging to his dick. There were even clumps of what Avery could only assume was actual dirt, or maybe some sort of grease or oil, since it had a rather chemical, astringent flavor to it.
It was actually engine oil, from when Calloway had given his boss an oil change for a few extra dollars. That had been three days ago, and Calloway hadn’t showered since then. So that extra-ripe funk emanating from his ballsac was all the stale sweat that had collected in the humid area between his legs.
It felt good to have his pants down and his cock out. Calloway didn’t get to wash that often, so his crotch didn’t get bared that often either. He sighed and tried to concentrate on how good this dome felt — he had to admit it was the best dome he’d had in awhile.
“Goddamn,” he said as he lit a cigarette. He hadn’t intended to smoke any more before he went to sleep tonight — he was trying to conserve his cigarettes — but this seemed like a fortuitous enough even to justify it. Besides, he always smoked when he got dome. He was saving enough in getting this free rum that it didn’t seem that important — he could use the money he saved by not needing to buy alcohol for a few days to buy more cigarettes instead. He could even buy a carton, he thought, which would save him even more money.
His cock leaked precum that coated Avery’s throat and tongue. Avery guzzled it down greedily, slathering spit all up and down that greasy dick. He didn’t use his hands, preferring to sneak up and over his raunchy body. His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch.
Then Avery pulled off and slurped on his balls, which were so sour with funk that he gagged violently. The taste brought tears to his eyes. There was so much sweat there it tasted like he had splashed his tongue into a puddle of muddy taint-juice.
“Ha!” Calloway pumped his bicep as though he had been hoping to make Avery gag like that. He blushed a little too, though that wasn’t visible beneath the layer of mud that still dappled his cheeks. His taint-hairs tickled Avery’s tongue as he licked the spot beneath Calloway’s ballsac. “You are a fuckin’ nasty freak… — Avery, I mean,” he said when he remembered Avery’s name. He flopped his dick over Avery’s face.
This, Calloway thought, was what he had been expecting out of prison bitches. He thought there’d be lots of gagging and he’d get to mollywop his prison bitch on the cheek. He did that now as Avery slurped on his balls and retched. He slapped his cock over Avery’s face, again and again. He chuckled to himself. Now that he had done it this way, all nasty and humiliating and raunchy, he was glad he had done it romantically and sweetly in prison — this was a funnier idea than an actuality.
“Are you ready to get in my ass?” Avery asked. He blushed because of the disgusted look on Calloway’s face.
Calloway shrugged and sighed. “I guess so.” He had refused to do anal in prison. It just seemed too gross, he thought. Those prison-sissies probably had old cumwads drying in their ass. Every time he watched his cellmate do it — Calloway tried to look away when it happened, but like a car accident, he couldn’t always look away — he thought he saw little dried flecks of cum on the man’s cock. It wasn’t easy to see if that’s really what it was, not without getting on his knees and peering closely — which he wasn’t going to do — it could have been bits of fuzz from the prison-issued underwear, for example.
But it seemed like it could have been dried up, old cum, and he wasn’t going to let himself touch that. No way. That was nasty.
Avery, he could be somewhat confident, wouldn’t have cumwad still soaking into his ass. Avery bent over the grass, with his ass high in the air, swaying back and forth. Avery used one hand to spread his asscheeks, revealing a tight brown hole that beckoned.
Calloway whistled. “Damn, that looks tight. I know it ain’t, it can’t be — you must be nasty-loose on account of you wanderin’ ‘round trailer parks gettin’ it up the ass…”
Avery giggled and shook his ass. “Yeah. You got a good point. I’m good at keeping it tight though. Go ahead and just ram it in.”
Calloway grimaced. He normally would hold his dick in his hand and guide it in, but he didn’t want to do that because it would mean he had to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He instead closed his eyes and tried to jab it in with no hands — but of course he just missed. He rammed it into Avery’s asscheek, leaving a moist spot of precum.
“You missed, dude,” Avery said with a giggle.
A blush bloomed on Calloway’s face again. He was glad no one could see. He looked like he was fumbling through his first time. He grimaced and tried again, this time getting it close into Avery’s cheeks.
He found the hole but had trouble getting his dick in without touching Avery’s ass. More than once, his hands instinctively grabbed those cheeks and his shaft, and tried to help his dick in, but then he pulled back when he realized he was touching Avery too much.
He took a deep breath. Touching a man’s ass wasn’t that bad, he thought, it looked better than fumbling like a squeamish virgin. He bit his lip and separated those cheeks with one hand, while his other slid his dick in.
“Damn…” Much to his surprise, it fit in very easily. Avery’s ass slid apart to almost suck his cock in. He had only intended to stick the tip in at first, to go slowly and see how much pain Avery was going to be in.
But instead Calloway watched with wide open eyes as his cock was slurped up by Avery’s ass. It clenched tightly around his shaft, and Calloway began to piston his hips.
He had been so focused on his surprise and his discomfort that Calloway gasped when a shudder of pleasure flowed through him. He bit his lip. He gripped Avery’s ass even more tightly with his fingers, so he could easily ram his dick in and out.
“Shit, boy, goddamn,” Calloway said, with a groan as pleasure flowed through his veins.
He had to admit this was better than fucking most women. It had its drawbacks, sure — no tits to grab on to, no pussy to play with, and he couldn’t kiss Avery — or wouldn’t, anyway — but Avery fit in that sweet spot between ‘tight and intact’ and ‘nasty and loose’. He was loose yet tight because he clenched hard on Calloway’s dick, as though trying to prevent him from ever pulling out. No girl did that.
Avery winced and writhed beneath Calloway, clawing at the dewy grass beneath him. He had thought they only just started plowing, but when he saw the first brilliant fingers of dawn sliding over the horizon, Avery realized he had lost track of time. It must be getting late, he thought.
It was well past five o’clock. Avery had been worshiping every inch of Calloway’s body for more than an hour, and now his prostate sang with every thrust of Calloway’s cock into him. Calloway’s lean and ropy body wrapped around Avery as he neared his orgasm, pounding away, his inhibitions finally gone at last. He didn’t even stop himself when he fondled Avery’s nipples out of pure instinct — Calloway had forgotten he wouldn’t find any tits there, and he was glad no one was around to see him do that.
An orgasm ripped through Avery’s body first. Calloway, again, was surprised — he didn’t know it was possible to orgasm while getting rammed in the ass. Girls never did that when getting fucked.
Avery shot cum all over the grass and his own hands, while Calloway felt his body ripple and massage his dick; he could sense the orgasm flowing through Avery’s body, and it was enough to bring him to the edge of his own climax.
“Damn, nasty-ass pig, you are gross!” Calloway barked right into Avery’s ear. Then he pushed Avery’s still-orgasming face into the mud. Avery got a mouthful of dirt as the raunchiest cock he’d ever taken shot its creamy wad into his guts. “Gonna fill you up wit’ my babies, bitch…”
Creamy hot cum sprayed into Avery, who moaned, his own climax still emanating through his body. The sticky, milky texture of cum was palpable inside him, and still more shot in, jet after jet of the most incredible load Avery had ever taken. It coated his insides and spilled out in a big cummy mess that coated Calloway’s crotch.
Exquisite waves of pleasure wracked both men. Avery howled out loud, uncaring of whether or not he attracted attention from the neighbors. Calloway did the same for a moment, then clenched his teeth shut and looked around to be sure no one was watching. He was unable to resist letting out a long, low and lingering moan though, as his hands gripped Avery’s smooth flesh.
Shudders flowed up Avery’s body, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug up clods of dirt underneath. Avery threw his head back, unable to howl anymore because the pressure and the pleasure were too intense. He could only gasp and cry out and beg for more from Calloway, who was still grunting with each thrust of his hips, sending spurt after spurt of creamy hot jizz up Avery’s body. Calloway’s sweat-soaked body gained a whole new layer of salty sweat that clung to his muscular frame.
Clumps of cum slipped out and onto the grass. “Ewgh, oh shit, I can see it, damn…” Calloway pulled out slowly, watching his creamy white semen plop out with his dick, until Avery’s entire ass was covered in glistening cum. Calloway’s dick rested on the surface, marinating in the santorum that dried there.
“How was that?” Avery said. His body was weak and tender, but he managed to stand on wobbling knees. He grabbed Calloway’s dick with one hand and gave it a stroke. A post-orgasmic shudder of exquisite pleasure shot through Calloway, who’s long limbs all tensed.
“Cool…” Calloway’s voice was breathy and tired, even more exhausted now than when he had gotten home from work.
“Come on,” Avery said. He held onto Calloway’s dick as he led him inside. “Lemme get you that rum.”
“Hell yeah,” Calloway said. “I gotta get drunk quick before the sun goes up, or I won’t be able to sleep.”
Avery nodded. He didn’t care. Once Calloway passed out drunk it would be morning, and he had heard a rumor there was a garbage man who sometimes wagged his massive knob at women who were up that early. Avery fully intended to be there.

The Terraformer

Madhu is part of a terraforming crew on an inhospitable planet, and his team includes one hunky handyman named Buck. He’s filthy, he’s strong, he’s crude and he’s ready to give Madhu a swing on his mechanically minded meat!

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His arms bulged from the too-small uniform shirt. He wore the uniform of a doctor even though he was not a doctor. Madhu couldn’t tear his eyes away from that bicep bulge above the caduceus patch. The green fabric of his right sleeve — the one Madhu could see most clearly from where he sat at his desk — was torn in parts, and there was a burgundy stain — dried blood from who knew what — up near the collar. Had his ear bled onto his shoulder? That’s kind of what it looked like, Madhu thought.
He turned his head back to the microscope just in time to avoid it being obvious that he was checking Buck out. Madhu sighed as he counted algae on the microscope slide.
“Hey, Buck, the O2 levels in the command hold are low!”
Buck grumbled. He yelled out of the lab, down the hall. “I know! I said that at breakfast!”
After a few moments, Commander Chumbers called out, “Well, can you fix it?”
“Yes!” Buck snarled. He ran his fingers through his hair, which was jet-black and greasy, flopping over itself as he tried to straighten it. It ran down to his shoulders, dense curls making it tangled since he didn’t shower often.
Madhu didn’t shower often either. That’s because water was at a premium still. They were able to give themselves sponge-baths from time to time, but not actual showers. Even the sponge-baths were strictly limited to avoid wasting water.
Soon, that problem should be fixed. Madhu was happy with the amount of algae he found in the microscope — they were colonizing the small amount of water that Commander Chumbers’s crew had managed to create. There were now a few ponds on the surface of Lannentia, with algae.
There were five species on the planet now, six if you counted humans. It had taken eight years to get to that point — Madhu had only been here for six months, but the terraforming colony had been around for seven and a half years by then — and would probably take another eight to be minimally inhabitable by humans with just a few adaptations. Terraforming tended to be like a snowball running down a hill: very slow at first, taking three years just to establish one kind of microscopic purple sulfur bacteria that made the whole planet smell like a turd, but then it would go quickly. This time next year Madhu hoped to be stocking the oceans with fish.
But his more immediate goal, the reason he had come to Lannentia, was to taste Buck’s dick.
“Zhing Chuen!” Buck snapped at himself. The screw he was trying to remove had become stripped. He glanced at Madhu to make sure he wasn’t offended by the neo-Chinese cursing. Madhu pretended not to notice.
Buck was the only non-scientist on the crew. He was the handyman, the “rank and file” — this organization divided its employees into “knowledge workers” and “rank and file”, but poor Buck was the only “rank and file” on the entire planet.
“Buck?” Commander Chumbers stuck his head in the lab.
“What?” Buck said with an angry snarl. Then he mumbled, “Sir?”
“Can you fix the O2 in the command hold-?”
“Yes! I’ll do it! Ya want this radiation shielding to work or not? That has gotta be mah first priority!” Buck said.
Commander Chumbers glared at him, while Buck strained to get a screw out. Chumbers was not used to this level of disrespect.
Buck’s arms gleamed with grease-stained sweat, and his biceps bulged and flexed as he worked. Madhu was hunched over the microscope, but when he looked up, he saw Buck’s ass because he was bent over, ass upraised and aimed towards Madhu’s head. He had a thick and juicy ass, and it made Madhu’s mouth water.
“Fine. Yes.” Commander Chumbers hesitated. It was obvious he was reluctant to scold Buck. He should have, he was commander, he was entitled to respect and obedience. But Buck was also right — the radiation shielding was mission-critical, while the command hold could deal with low oxygen levels for a little while. Buck could have said that in a respectful way but hadn’t.
Commander Chumbers turned to leave. He no doubt didn’t want to risk losing Buck, who, despite being the lowest-paid person here, had brought his own shuttle. He could leave anytime. That was, Madhu supposed, necessary for someone like Buck, who probably got fired without notice on many occasions.
Madhu got the feeling Buck left most of his past jobs when he lost his temper and punched his boss. He seemed like that type.
Once he was gone, Buck stood up and rushed the door like he was going to stab Commander Chumbers in the back with the screwdriver in his hand. “Fuckin’ asshole! Ming te tin!” He spat on the ground. Then he glanced at Madhu. “Sorry.” He snorted and grabbed his dick through his uniform overalls, which were tight on him — he had been too big for any of the uniform pieces on the planet, which was why he was dressed as a doctor (there had been a Migwadlian doctor here last year, and they tended to be very large, so the colony had plenty of large doctors’s uniforms).
“No worries,” Madhu said. He stood and stretched his legs. “Commander Chumbers is a fucking asshole.”
“Yeah.”
Madhu came closer to Buck, who furrowed his brow at him. The scientists were usually shy and intimidated by Buck, and Madhu was too, but Madhu was also aroused by his intense masculinity and his dominant attitude. Madhu was a great admirer of the male form. He smiled at Buck. “Do you need money, Buck?”
“What?” Buck stopped, arms upraised as he was about to screw in a new, non-stripped screw. He held the screwdriver up, so his armpits were bare, his big fleshy arms firmly flexing in front of Madhu’s face. The furry bush of his armpits was clearly visible, and the smell of his unwashed sweat filled Madhu’s nostrils.
“Do you need money? I have thirty-four credits burning a hole in my pocket,” Madhu said. He pulled the money out and counted it. “Oh, no, I apologize, I have thirty-five credits.” He paused to lick his teeth. “I’d be glad to hand them over if you let me do certain things.” He tried to insert a finger beneath Buck’s shirt-sleeve onto his biceps, but his arm was high in the air, and anyway it was squeezed into a too-tight sleeve, so there was no space for Madhu’s finger. He rubbed the part that was palpable through a tear in the fabric, which got Buck’s attention.
Buck’s eyes opened wide. “Oh… Well, shit…” Buck blushed and groaned. He laughed and blushed even harder. His muscles rippled beneath the too-tight doctor’s uniform. “Ah, damn… I mean, there ain’t no females around…”
“Well, there’s Leslie.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Ain’t no females around.”
Madhu laughed with him, though that was mean — Leslie was a rather mannish woman who didn’t even have a pleasant personality to fall back on. Madhu liked her, but he wasn’t surprised that Buck didn’t.
Buck sighed and nodded. Madhu touched his dick through his overalls, and Buck snorted. He hadn’t expected it to happen right here. This was technically in public — no one would likely be here, and it was impossible to sneak up, but still, the micro lab was not a private place.
Buck rolled his eyes like this was yet another unpleasant duty as a handyman — Buck always played everything off like it was a big imposition — everything from addressing his Commander as sir to fixing the plumbing to sponge-bathing himself, he treated it all like he had better stuff to do. That made it easier to demand a high rate of pay, and as a handyman working in off-world locations like this uninhabitable planet (so far), Buck was always negotiating a higher rate of pay.
Pulling his pants down was k awkward since they fit so poorly. He had to shimmy them down, as they were taut against his thunderous thighs. Madhu helped to pull, and he was rewarded with a limp but huge cock flopping into his face when it was finally bared. His shaft was fat, jiggling as it swayed between his muscled thighs.
“Hmmm… Looks tasty,” Madhu said with a petite giggle of desire. He chased Buck’s cock with his tongue as it bounced around, Buck still shaking and struggling to get his overalls down and his shirt off. His muscles rippled.
He didn’t sponge-bathe as often as ships regulations commanded. To Buck, a sponge-bath felt too much like he was a child who had shat himself. Anyway, he didn’t see a need to impress anyone here — there were no women to speak of, and who cared if a bunch of men thought he stank? He did stink, but so did the other men here.
Not Madhu. Madhu smelled like a woman, moreso than Leslie even.
That was why Buck did not care that he smelled like engine grease and stale sweat and who knew what else. It wasn’t a foul smell, but it was intense and astringent, almost cloying, and it brought tears to Madhu’s eyes as he kissed Buck’s chest. He slurped up the sweat that made Buck’s body hair cling to his pecs. Buck eyed him warily — he had only agreed to be jerked off, and he didn’t want to be taken advantage of.
His pecs flexed, and Madhu sucked on each nipple. Sour smoggy oil coated his tongue because Buck had repaired the tao furnace earlier. Buck firmly pushed his head down.
“You said you wanted to jerk me off, not lick my fuckin’ chest,” Buck said with an annoyed growl. He didn’t force Madhu to stop, but he did hurry him along to his knees.
Madhu opened his mouth and swallowed that big greasy hog down. He let it fill his mouth and throb there, dry and soft at first. Buck frowned like he was about to demand more money to get hard — Madhu hadn’t said that was a condition of his offer, after all — but then his dick twitched and firmed up in Madhu’s mouth.
Buck’s frown turned into a surprised shake as a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine. Madhu smiled up at him, his fingers reaching up for those nipples, which remained hard, pecs bouncing beneath Madhu’s touch. Buck grunted.
He wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. Buck was usually disappointed by the mouths of men — it simply wasn’t as good as a blowjob from a woman. But Madhu seemed to be an expert, his mouth silky and warm, and it made Buck let out a moan as his cock rocketed to full erection.
His fingers ran through his mane of jet-black hair, and he grumbled like he was disappointed even though it was plainly obvious that this was the best dome he’d had in a long time — the look on his face was unbridled ecstasy. He groaned and gripped Madhu’s head.
He plowed in deeply, his reluctance gradually melting away. By the time he had his whole cock in, balls slapping against Madhu’s chin, Buck had lost most of his inhibitions. This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten jerked off by a man anyway — it was the first time he’d done it sober when he knew for absolutely certain that it was a man, but as far as he was concerned, if you hadn’t checked the DNA and/or if you were drunk, it didn’t count.
And in prison, it didn’t count in prison either. Or on a farm without women. Any place without women. Any place with fewer than ten women.
“Shit…” Buck definitely didn’t expect it to feel this good. He was only doing it for the money and to avoid awkward situations with Madhu in the future. But he found it more pleasurable than he thought possible, actually better than most any blowjob from any woman he had ever been with. He didn’t know how to take that. He didn’t want Madhu to know he felt that way, so he played it off like it was no big deal. “Damn, man, get deep on there, go’n… Shit… You ain’t best, you know, I’ve had females as good as you.”
Despite that, his words wavered, his voice broke and his knees weakened, and Madhu could tell Buck had rarely felt such unbridled pleasure. Women didn’t give blowjobs with as much enthusiasm as Madhu jacked off Buck’s cock with his mouth, swallowing every inch of that alpha male dickmeat.
A giggle escaped around Madhu’s lips, which were still stuck tightly around Buck’s shaft. Madhu knew perfectly well Buck was lying about how much he enjoyed this. For one thing, Madhu knew he handled dick good — legendarily good — and for a second thing, no one made a point of comparing him to a female unless they wanted to conceal the fact that Madhu was better than a woman.
Madhu didn’t mind. He wasn’t looking for credit, and he could already tell that Buck would gladly do this again whenever Madhu asked. Madhu probably didn’t even need to offer money next time.
Well, Buck would demand money, since he knew Madhu would give it. Madhu would have to pretend to be broke.
At last precum filled Madhu’s mouth, great gobs of it, so much that Madhu first wondered if Buck had blown his wad early. It flowed like milk into Madhu’s mouth, and it coated Madhu’s tongue with its intensely salty, bright flavor. Madhu guzzled down every drop, savoring its sweetness and letting it spill out onto his chin and cheeks.
“Hmmm… You taste good,” Madhu said. He kept his tongue out as he rubbed it up and down on Buck’s shaft, on the underside now, sort of licking, but using his head to move his tongue rather than moving his tongue itself. That sent sparks of pleasure through Buck’s body.
Buck’s eyes opened wide. No girl had ever let him treat her mouth like this. That’s because Buck was dirty and hairy and he usually had an excuse to skip showering — women did not like that. His balls were dark and heavy, low-hanging, begging for Madhu’s attention.
When Madhu’s tongue finally touched his ballsac, Buck moaned exquisitely. It felt good — he had asked girls to do it, but they never would, even if they said they would do it — once they saw how sweaty his balls got, they backed out.
Not Madhu. He loved his ballsacs as sweaty as possible. He loved getting his head real low and letting Buck dip his sac in Madhu’s open mouth. It was just a small piece of his body, but it felt like the whole thing, like the sweat that trickled past Madhu’s waiting lips contained Buck’s entire body in it.
“You wanna ram me?” Madhu asked, his mouth moist and gargly cuz it was full of Buck’s ballsac. He had to repeat it a couple times before lifting Buck’s balls out of his mouth so he could say it more clearly. Then he slurped up all the sweat off his wrinkled scrotum.
“Shit, yeah, c’mon, bend ovuh, baby,” Buck said, clucking his tongue and jumping into position. He bent Madhu over on all fours before stopping himself, as he remembered he was pretending to be reluctant. “I mean… Yeah…” His dick throbbed, precum leaking onto Madhu’s back. Buck hesitated, his body trying to gyrate while his mind slowed himself down. “Uh-huh.”
Madhu giggled. “It’s okay to want it, Buck, you don’t have to pretend. You must be so horny-“
“I’s waitin’ for a female,” Buck said. He blushed and wiped sweat off his face. It was hot in here, but that couldn’t be fixed until he had finished this repair job. His hairy body and head were so overheated he thought he might pass out.
But he wasn’t going to stop. There was something alluring about ramming in sauna-like heat like this, he thought, something aside from the sweat making effective lube. It made him feel like a beast, a feeling that was aided by Madhu’s willingness to let Buck come at him like an animal. No woman would ever want to do it, cuz it might mess up their hair and cuz they don’t wanna be around Buck when he was dripping in sweat.
That was not a problem for Madhu, who bent over and raised his ass so Buck could easily access it.
Buck raced to ram his dick in Madhu’s asshole, both because he was horny and because he thought he might lose his nerve and look weak if he hesitated. He growled and roared, stroking his dick just twice before sliding it into Madhu’s tight, unprepared asshole.
That caused an outpouring of pain, and Madhu howled. He made Buck slow down by reaching his hand behind himself and placing it on Buck’s hairy belly. Buck stopped, with just the first inch or so of his dick in Madhu’s ass. That was enough to cause a wave of both pleasure and pain to wrack Madhu’s body.
“Hmm, okay…” Madhu gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath and his ass slowly relaxed. Buck tried to drill into him as soon as he could, but Madhu stopped him again. “Gimme a sec… Damn, your cock is huge, man, you’re splittin’ me apart.” Madhu wrenched his head back — he exaggerated his pain a bit, since alpha men always liked that.
Buck clucked his tongue and massaged the small of Madhu’s back. He sounded sympathetic but still frustrated that he had to stop. When he sighed and rolled his eyes, his dick twitched and Madhu winced in pain. Buck held back a moan of pleasure.
“Sorry,” Buck said, his deep voice echoing in the low-ceilinged lab. He grinned despite his sullen apology. He had to hold back a laugh at the sight of Madhu writhing and relaxing. Then Buck sucked in his breath as Madhu nodded and spread his cheeks. “You okay?”
“Ram me, Buck! Ram me hard!” Madhu screamed, the pressure in his ass so intense he couldn’t help himself. He clawed at the ground beneath himself, and he squirmed so powerfully he knocked over the stool he had been sitting on just moments ago.
What’s going on? Buck? You okay?
“Ah, shit! Commander Chumbers!” Madhu said. He couldn’t quite bring himself to pull off Buck’s uncut cock, which throbbed all the way inside him, slowly rubbing as Buck began plowing back and forth harder and harder. “He’s coming!”
Buck chuckled throatily. “Let ‘im. He ain’t gonna fire me, can’t find a new handyman,” he said. “He won’t fire you either. He’s a goddamn pussy.”
Madhu nodded. He was too engrossed in the pleasure emanating from his ass to consider whether he agreed with Buck’s conclusion.
What was that? Buck! If you hurt that scientist, I’ll have you court-martialed!
“Fuckin’ fuck-ass jing ma shit!” Buck spat vituperatively without missing a beat as he rammed Madhu. “Why is he assumin’ I’m attackin’ you? You’re the one who shouted, he shouldn’t be makin’ assumptions! Maybe’s you’s assaultin’ me!”
“Uh-huh,” Madhu moaned. He lowered his head to the cool steel floor, which helped him savor the explosion of bliss deep in his ass. He had rarely taken it up the ass this good. Buck’s increasing anger and distraction was part of what made it feel so good — it meant he just plowed back and forth with abandon, without thinking about it, without even being aware of it. His dick rammed at every corner of Madhu’s asshole, which stretched and clenched as he accommodated it.
Buck squatted — simply because he thought that was the most intimidating posture, precisely because it was so awkward. It made his thugs ache almost immediately. But it did make his dick feel good. It gave him the perfect angle to plow in as he approached his orgasm, which he felt growing in his loins.
It probably would have taken longer for him to cum if he weren’t distracted by cursing at Commander Chumbers, whose heavy-booted feet were plainly audible heading this way. Chumbers climbed down the airshaft, which took a minute or two, before he arrived at the micro lab.
He flung the door open just as Madhu sprayed his own wad on the steel floor. Madhu howled and threw his head back, his face reddish and tense. Commander Chumbers’s middle-aged silver-bearded face looked on, in anger, then confusion, then dismay.
“What are you — ? What…?”
“Mind ya own goddamn business,” Buck said with a loud groan, sounding like his entire body was going to fall apart. Jizz flowed into Madhu’s ass. He grunted and growled once more, putting Madhu in a headlock as he rammed his dick all the way in and held it there.
Cum flowed into Madhu’s ass, a great river of it that just kept on going. It almost felt, Madhu thought — but didn’t really believe since it seemed impossible — that Buck kept fucking because he could tell it annoyed and disgusted Commander Chumbers.
“Ah…” Chumbers blushed and tried to avert his eyes, but he kept looking back at it. “Ah…” He was entranced by the sight of Buck’s greasy zheing-lein class body, all hair and muscle and meat, shimmering with sweat as he plowed into Madhu hard.
“Hell, yeah, boy, take it, take it deep, shit…” Buck moaned. He collapsed right onto Madhu’s back as though pinning him down.
Jet after jet of cum filled Madhu up, each drop sending his own orgasm to new heights. It was hot and creamy, sticky, seeping into Madhu’s flesh and dripping onto the puddle of fluids that had already collected on the steel floor.
“Shit…” Buck said with a loud sigh. He glanced up at Commander Chumbers, who frowned at him. His dick throbbed in Madhu’s ass, a few final drops of jizz leaking in. Buck grunted. “You ain’t sposedta watch ya employees naked, sir.”
“You’re not supposed to-!”
“Then fire me,” Buck said. He pulled his dick out and wiped it clean on Madhu’s ass. An intense sense of relief flooded Madhu’s body.
“We don’t hire the likes of you just so you can befowl our-“
Madhu giggled breathlessly, glancing up at Commander Chumbers. Madhu kneeled next to Buck and hugged his muscled torso tight. “Commander Chumbers, shut up.”
Buck laughed. “Yeah, man, shut up. We know you ain’t gonna fire no one on account of you got a deadline to meet. If you fire me, it’ll take you six months to get a new handyman in, and he won’t be any better than me — he’ll be worse, prolly, at fixin’ shit, but he’ll be the same as far as bein’ dirty and stinkin’ the place up and havin’ a big dingdong that scares you. Ain’t that-?”
“I’m not scared of your dick.”
“Then look at it.” Buck stood and crossed his arms over his chest. His massive dick dangled. His muscles all flexed. Commander Chumbers gritted his teeth and lowered his head.
He barely glanced at it before turning to Madhu. “What about you? I can get a new microbiologist in a heartbeat-“
“Then do it,” Madhu said. He shrugged and kept touching Buck’s chest until Buck gently but firmly shoved him away. Madhu smiled.
Buck waved his dick in Chumbers’s direction. “Go’n, sir, why don’t you go get my toolbox and bring it to the command hold. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
After a long pause, Commander Chumbers said, “Clean yourself up, Buck. You’re representing Tao Terraforming-“
“Ain’t no one here to represent to-!”
But Madhu just got dressed, ignoring the argument. It was obviously never going to end. Commander Chumbers really couldn’t afford to delay things — and there was a constant need for repairs here, so without a replacement, the entire place would shut down in days — but he wasn’t so much of a weakling as to ignore Buck’s insolence. Madhu wasn’t interested anymore.
He had gotten what he wanted.

Thumper & His Prettyboy Cellmate: Ch. 3

Chapter Three

As Lamar grew accustomed to incarceration, things settled into a sort of cruel normalcy. The everyday humiliations of prison life became minor nuisances, and even the food seemed to taste better as memory of a better time faded from Lamar’s grasp.
The one thing Lamar couldn’t get used to was Thumper’s touching. Since he never hit him, the guards wouldn’t intervene, no matter how obvious it was Lamar wanted him to stop. None of the Bloods would back him up either, so Lamar had no choice but to submit and accept it as a part of his prison routine.
About a month into Lamar’s sentence, the air conditioning broke. Lamar begged Thumper to let them take a break from working out until it was fixed, but he looked at him like Lamar was crazy. “The Vasquenzas ain’t gonna stop. The Crips ain’t gonna stop. The Aryan Way ain’t gonna stop.” He continued naming every gang in this prison.
“Okay, okay, I just thought we might wanna keep the sweat down. It smells bad enough in here as it is,” Lamar said.
“Fuck you, nigga. You the stinky one, youngblood,” he said, “Go on, gimme some squat thrusts.”
As soon as Lamar got started, Thumper stripped off his shorts and boxers, so his cock dangled freely in front of him. He stood there watching Lamar and scratched his balls. Lamar knew better than to complain. Why does old nigga got hang his dong out all the time?
Despite the heat and the zesty aroma of old nigga sweat filling up the cell, Lamar managed no to complain as he finished his routine. When Thumper finally told him Lamar was done, Lamar sopped off his sweat with a towel and climbed up to his bed.
“Wait, nigga, come on down here,” he said, “I got somethin’ I been savin’ for a rainy day. Or a sweaty day, whatever.”
Thumper showed him a long, thin blunt. Lamar didn’t see where he had gotten it from, but he must have had it stashed somewhere in the cell. He grinned, and Lamar’s bitterness about his intimacy vanished. Lamar hadn’t gotten high since before his trial.
Lamar sat on the bed next to Thumper. His stark nudity was uncomfortable, but Lamar reminded himself that it was only barely different than the thin layer of fabric Lamar wore. Not really a big deal, Lamar told himself.
He lit the blunt with a strike-anywhere match, and they began passing it back and forth. As always, Thumper answered any questions about pre-prison life with vague handwaving and asked probing questions about him and who Lamar knew in the Bloods back in California.
The first haze in Lamar’s mind appeared. Lamar felt his eyes narrow to slits. In a way, Lamar was glad he hadn’t been able to smoke for a long time cuz it meant Lamar got baked even on Thumper’s tiny blunt.
“You always dodgin’ my questions, Thumper,” Lamar said, feeling bold. “Wuzzup wit’ dat?” Lamar laughed at himself, and Thumper joined in.
“You ain’t wanna know nothin’ ’bout ol’ Thumper,” he said, “I got nothin’ important out there in the real world. No career, no family, no friends. All that’s left of me is what’s in here.”
“Is it true you was a boxer?”
“Shit, I was the best boxer. The Chesapeake Champion,” he said, “Still am. But don’t ax no questions about that, nigga.” He took the roach and dropped it, still lit, in his mouth. He swallowed it and smiled at him. “Hey,” he said, “Gimme yo’ hand.”
Too stoned to think about it, Lamar just extended his hand to him. Thumper took it and caressed it, moving it slowly towards his crotch, Lamar realized he expected a handjob and his heart dropped.
“Hey, stop-“
“Shut yo’ mouth, Lamar,” Thumper said. He whispered, “Don’t you dare say no to me. You still ain’t my bitch. Nobody gotta know what happens in here. If you say no and I gotta force you into it, then you gonna be my bitch. And everybody gonna know that.”
Lamar stopped resisting and looked away from Thumper. He put Lamar’s hand on his dick, and Lamar awkwardly stroked it a few times.
Thumper said, “Come on, face me. Do this right.”
They both turned to face each other on his tiny bed. Thumper pulled Lamar by the legs closer to him, until their thighs were interlocking. He pulled Lamar’s dick outta the fly of his prison boxers.
“See? I ain’t a bad guy. This is a circlejerk, that’s all,” Thumper said. He spat on his hand and flogged Lamar’s dick until it got hard. His hands were softer than Lamar expected, though Lamar felt the calluses and thick muscles underneath his skin. He moved expertly but in a dispassionate way, like a farmer collecting semen from a stud.
Lamar was getting a rhythm on Thumper’s dick, which pulsated in his hands. It was disgusting and made him wish he could wear a glove. It was huge too, a foot long at least, thicker than any dick should be. It was slimy with precum in his grip.
Thumper shot a load with a deep groan that resonated in Lamar’s ear. Lamar hadn’t thought he was giving a good enough handjob for him to cum so quickly, but Thumper must have been horny. His wad spurted all over Lamar’s wrist and forearm. Lamar held his hand up like a mad scientist witnessing his creation, but he couldn’t reach anything except his own bedding to wipe off with.
Lamar gagged and tried to move, but Thumper told him to stay. He used both hands on Lamar’s dick, and Lamar had to admit it was the best handjob he ever had. Spasms of pleasure flew through Lamar’s body, despite his heart pounding and him holding his breath. Thumper moved in rhythm with Lamar’s body, and Lamar could almost forget what a hellhole he was trapped in.
Lamar came with a pained grunt, his load making a hot and stinking mess right in the center of Thumper’s waist. Lamar’s grunt turned into a moan as his whole body buckled, and jizz flew over Thumper’s torso.
When it was all over and Lamar’s dick was limp once more, Thumper wiped all that cum off with his hands, then wrapped his heavy arms around Lamar’s neck, smearing the cum across Lamar’s shoulders.
“There, there,” Thumper said, “That weren’t so bad, nigga, was it?”