circlejerks – Mansploitation

Jockstrap Raid!

The football team at GHU did a panty raid, which means the gymnast team is allowed to turn the tables… The jocks get their jockstraps raided, resulting in a massive-athlete multiple-man locker room showdown both teams will never forget!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Last year, the football team had done a panty raid on the cheerleaders in the locker room. They stormed in there half-naked and shouted ‘Panty Raid!’ over and over as they grabbed used and clean panties from the girls. It was a big scandal at GHU afterwards. The cheerleaders themselves called it an enjoyable prank, but the feminist groups on campus were less enthused.
But now this year, Avery and the other gymnasts marched into the men’s locker room a few minutes after football practice ended. His heart pounded as he and the other gymnasts chanted, “Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
That was because the gymnastics team had won the state championship this year, the first GHU team to win a championship in years. The football team had had a dismal season, so Coach Marshall told the gymnasts to come on in and go to town on the football jocks.
The players were sullen, sweaty beasts, angry with each other for having lost the season badly and having had a disappointing practice today. They stood and sat on benches in the locker room, dressed mainly in their jockstraps, though a few were naked, crotches covered by their hands as they watched the gymnasts file into the locker room.
“Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
Avery blushed. He wasn’t used to being this forward. It was normal for athletes to be so horny they couldn’t resist stealing girls’s panties. But he and his fellow gymnasts just didn’t do that kind of thing.
“Give us your jockstraps, men!”
The gymnasts clapped and hooted as they spread out. Someone even turned the lights off, so the locker room was dimly illuminated only by the emergency lighting. That made it significantly easier for Avery, who didn’t feel like he was about to be beat up as he approached Jimmy.
Jimmy was the quarterback and team captain, and he had the most well-sculpted ass that Avery had ever seen. Once a few months ago, Avery walked past the men’s locker room and caught a glimpse into the door as it swung shut. Jimmy was there, wearing a jockstrap and nothing else, flicking a wet towel. His muscled back was covered in either sweat or shower water, Avery couldn’t tell which. There was a sink area near the door, so Jimmy’s presence near enough that Avery could see him from outside suggested that Jimmy and the team were engaging in horseplay there in the lockers. Avery had shuddered at the sight of Jimmy’s plump asscheeks cradled by a soaked jockstrap.
Now he went up to Jimmy’s shadowy body. He stood with one foot on the bench, mid-conversation with a linebacker when the gymnasts filed in. He remained right there, balls overflowing from his jock pouch where it dangled between his open legs. His broad muscles were bare, his crotch unblocked from view, cuz Jimmy was shameless like that. When he spoke, his balls jiggled in the pouch of his jockstrap.
“Give up the jockstraps, gentlemen!” shouted the gymnastics team captain, Fred. He was the most flamboyant and feminine of the gymnasts, and as he spoke, he shook his ass in his trackpants in front of the tight end Charlie Smitkowski, who giggled like he was watching his first stripper give him a lapdance.
“This is weird, Jimmy.”
“Don’t be fuckin’ squeamish, man. Ain’t a big deal. We told the cheerleaders it weren’t a big deal, so it can’t be a big deal now-” Whoever that was — Avery didn’t see in the darkness — squealed then, and there was an explosion of movement.
“Damn, whoever that was, that’s too much, you can’t stick your finger in my ass!”
Avery ignored the nervous laughter of the football players. He steeled his own nerves and reached out for Jimmy’s broad, strapping chest muscles. Jimmy must not have realized it was going to happen, because he yelped in surprise and his muscles all tensed at once.
That rolling undulation of his powerful muscles was enough for Avery to get dizzy and overheated. Jimmy dripped with sweat, and his pectoral muscles were like overinflated soccer balls, hard and unyielding yet soft and inviting at the same time. Avery leaned in and licked the sweat off his nipples as Jimmy joined the other teammates in laughter.
“Oh yeah, nasty!”
“Lick it up, boys! Lick it up!”
They laughed cockily as though they enjoyed being the object of attention from a bunch of flamboyant gymnasts, but they were all distinctly nervous. Their muscles remained tensed as the gymnasts explored their football jock bodies.
“Jockstrap Raid! Jockstrap Raid!”
Meanwhile Avery’s hands roamed down Jimmy’s body. Jimmy stood there, flat on both feet now like a soldier at attention. His muscles quaked like he was slightly ticklish or just plain nervous at Avery’s hands on the straps of his jock.
A part of Avery wanted to keep going and stroke Jimmy off, but he didn’t — nobody else was, and he didn’t think Jimmy would allow that. Coach Marshall hadn’t said they could do it (though he hadn’t say they couldn’t either). And the football players hadn’t had sex with the cheerleaders after the panty raid — or had they? Now Avery wasn’t sure. He knew he heard once that the football players had all eaten out a cheerleader’s pussy at the same, and they had switched girls as a competition to see who was best.
That seemed gross and unsanitary to Avery, but, he could hardly complain. Once he pulled down Jimmy’s jockstrap and had it in his hand, he shoved the entire thing in his mouth. He suckled on it, trying to get every drop of salty moisture.
“Oh damn, I ain’t think they was gonna lick on ’em!”
“That’s is fuckin’ nasty. We ain’t suck on the panties.”
“Raython did.”
“Fuck you, I did not! I licked one panty-“
“You brought it back to the dorm afterwards though-“
“I ain’t suck on it!”
A fight broke out. In the dark, Avery couldn’t see who was involved. There was a flurry of punches, shouts of ‘come at me, then!’ and ‘try me, bro!’ but soon enough it was done. Avery couldn’t even tell who fought — Raython exchanged punches with someone, but that only lasted a moment and was more friendly than a real fight. But the players bumped into each other, sparking a real fight. Avery was right there in the melee. His heart raced. In the dark, fists flew willy-nilly, and more than one gigantic hulking linebacker rammed into him accidentally.
Yet Avery didn’t want to find his way out of the crowd. Everywhere he looked and everyplace he flailed his hands, all he gripped was sweat-dripping muscles, hairy flesh and jockstraps that Avery was desperate to get his hands on.
“Come at me, then bro!” someone shouted, as a brief fight erupted.
“Fuck you, man, no fighting in the locker room!” Jimmy shouted as the other shadowy player got up and stalked off towards the showers. Jimmy wagged his fat cock in that player’s direction. He scoffed. As the team captain, it was up to him to make sure they didn’t fight in the locker room. He sighed and glared at his teammates.
The remaining players were crammed in so close together that Avery could barely breathe. He was short, especially for a gymnast, so on most of the football players, Avery’s face was even with their nipple lines or even lower than that. Since the players were crammed into a tiny part of the locker room, Avery was pinned between their slabs of sweaty meat. He stuck his tongue out and everywhere he turned, he lapped up a fresh batch of freshly sweat-dappled muscle.
“Fuck you, Jimmy! You thought we would win! You promised it-“
“Oh grow up, Tony! I’m the team captain, of course I said we would win if we worked hard and played our best,” Jimmy said. “What kinduva team captain would say anything else?” He put his hands on his hips. Avery managed to squeeze through the players until he was behind Jimmy, whose sweaty back pressed against Avery’s face. Without thinking about it, Avery’s hand began loosely caressing the light blond hairs of the small of Jimmy’s back. When Jimmy didn’t protest, his fingers moved lower, playing with the moist funk of Jimmy’s asscrack.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be our team captain anymore!”
“After the season is over?! There’s not even any point to having a team captain anymore. There’s no more games,” Jimmy said.
“The cheerleaders are going to the basketball team party. The basketball team barely did any better than we did, and they’re all gonna get blowjobs-“
“We were invited to the same party,” Jimmy said. “Come on, guys-” Jimmy bristled and tensed up as Avery’s finger brushed over his asshole, his tight, dark, funky hole. His voice cut off and broke.
“We can get you off!” Fred shouted, and the other gymnasts all cheered.
The football players exchanged odd glances in the dark. It looked like some of them had forgotten the gymnasts were here. Avery realized only just now that more than a few of his fellow gymnasts were stroking off the football players in the dimly-lit locker room. A few of the football players let out some nervous laughter. One of them walked away, shaking his head as he headed to the showers.
But most of the team remained. Avery couldn’t believe this was happening. His hand roamed from Jimmy’s ass to his crotch. Avery’s heart skipped a beat as he gripped that thick shaft.
“Uh… Is this… okay?” Jimmy asked, directing the question at his teammates. There was a chorus of sharp breaths as the football players gasped. They looked at each other, raising their eyebrows, questioning who was going to give in to this and who was going to go take a shower.
No one actually answered Jimmy, but since no one — including Jimmy himself — walked away, the answer was apparently yes, at least for those jocks who hadn’t already left (a few had). Someone let out a long, low groan that provoked laughter in the other players.
“Who was that? Huh? Someone really likes it!”
“That was Raython, I’m sure of it.”
“Guess again, motherfucker. It was Tuck.”
“No it wasn’t. The guy on my dick ain’t even do it very good, nothing personal.” That was Tuck, the left tackle, who gasped then as the gymnast on his dick fell to his knees and swallowed his dick all the way down to the root.
“Ah, shit they doin’ it now! They doin’ it!”
One by one, the football players each said it was no big deal. Even Jimmy said it, though his voice quavered and his body tensed like he didn’t entire believe that. Or maybe he was so horny that his body tensed beneath Avery’s grasp. His dick throbbed.
Either one drop of precum escaped from Jimmy’s cock, or maybe it was a droplet of sweat. Regardless, Avery felt it coat Jimmy’s shaft and Avery’s fingers, lubing his hand up.
Something had changed then. Avery sensed it, and he knew everyone else had sensed it too — this jockstrap raid had become a circlejerk. The jockstraps themselves tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Someone was already getting someone else off, Avery could hear the moist suckling sounds.
“Ah, goddamn, it’s true what they say about men throating better than females… fuck…”
Avery dropped to his knees to start throating as well He was so short that when he went all the way to the ground as he usually would, he was too short. He could have crawled like that between Jimmy’s legs and Jimmy’s balls wouldn’t have dragged on Avery’s back — Jimmy was just too tall.
So Avery had to stretch his head upright, on his knees in front of Jimmy. He still had to strain to reach Jimmy’s cock, which was just slightly hard. It twitched as though trying to run away from Avery’s mouth when he kissed it on the tip.
“Oh, damn, my guy is makin’ out with it,” Jimmy said, with one muscled arm covering his eyes even though he was in a darkened locker room so he couldn’t see anyway. He giggled nervously like a little boy. The other players were reacting similarly — all except Raython, who reacted like he did this all the time.
“C’mon,” Raython said, “Go deeper…” He groaned and moaned as he did so. Avery couldn’t tell who was licking Raython’s shaft, but whoever it was gurgled as Raython’s cock rammed down his throat.
But Jimmy was too ginger about this to do anything like that. He flailed his hands above Avery’s head as though he wanted to start guiding him but didn’t want to touch him, like Avery’s short hair would remind him that the person tasting his cock was not a girl.
By now Jimmy’s cock was hard as stone. It throbbed and pulsated in Avery’s mouth, and it twitched as though it had a mind of its own. It communicated its desire to Avery through its vibrations in Avery’s hungry throat.
“Holy hell…”
“I was not expectin’ practice to end like this…”
Even in the dark, Avery could tell that Jimmy was red-faced, his chest and neck ruddy as pleasure wafted through his body. He suspected that Jimmy would have never agreed if the lights weren’t off in the locker room.
One of Avery’s hands snaked out without him thinking about it and grabbed the muscular booty of one of the players standing nearby. Avery moaned as he felt another pair of sweaty asscheeks, which twitched nervously beneath his touch.
He moved down to Jimmy’s balls, which were heavy and low-hanging. They smelled rank with sweat right now, though that scent was mostly indistinguishable from the locker room itself. Avery made as much noise as he could because it made the football players laugh — a deep, boisterous chorus of laughter that echoed in the locker room — and the other gymnasts joined in.
“Ah fuck, he slurpin’ on my balls now,” Jimmy murmured. Some of the other jocks laughed at his shocked tone.
Soon the locker room was filled with the deafening roar of loud suckling, moist bubbling sounds and wet choking as the gymnasts sputtered on massive jock cockmeat sliding down their throat. More than a few of the football players made plenty of noise too, moaning softly, cutting themselves off because no one — save Raython, who was shameless — wanted to seem like they were really into this.
But the sharp gasps and hyperventilating made it clear how enjoyable this was for the players, including Jimmy, who felt up his own nipples now.
Avery guided Jimmy’s hand from his chest to Avery’s own head. Jimmy instinctively gripped him tight and slammed his dick all the way down. They both groaned, but then Jimmy pulled away like he hadn’t meant to do that.
“Damn, why couldn’t you have long hair like a girl?”
Avery wanted to explain why, but his mouth was full of ballsack. He had had long hair in high school, but it made him look like a girl from behind and the football jocks had teased him so much he cut his hair. It wasn’t conducive to serious gymnastics either.
He gargled on the balls in his mouth, making a loud, somewhat nasty sound that caused the football players to all laugh. Only Jimmy didn’t laugh, because he threw his head back and moaned.
He wasn’t paying attention, which was perfect for Avery’s new plan. He took ahold of Jimmy’s hand again. Before, he had guided it to his head so Jimmy could really get it down his throat, though Jimmy had been uncomfortable with that. This time, however, Jimmy was busy moaning as his sensitive balls bounced and dripped sweat into Avery’s mouth.
So Avery guided Jimmy’s hand to his buddy, who was the dark-haired wide receiver George. Jimmy didn’t seem to notice as he clutched his teammate’s muscled back, and his hand was guided down to George’s ass.
Both Jimmy and George realized what was happening at the same moment. They both yelped and jumped. Jimmy drew his hand away, and Avery giggled.
Avery kept his mouth in position beneath Jimmy’s juicy balls, but then he moved his tongue back as he slid between Jimmy’s legs. Avery’s tongue ran along Jimmy’s sensitive taint, causing a shudder to run up his spine.
“Ah, damn, that tickles…”
The sweat here was fresh. It was salty and grimy, and it made Avery’s own cock pulsate in his hands. He writhed and Jimmy must have felt similarly, because his knees buckled and he nearly fell over.
But Avery didn’t stop there. He continued licking Jimmy’s taint as though he wanted to lick right through the skin. Then he slipped through Jimmy’s legs and came up, tongue-first on the other side.
That meant his face dived between Jimmy’s asscheeks. Jimmy wasn’t a very hairy jock overall, but his ass had plenty of fine blond fur. As soon as his tongue ran over Jimmy’s sensitive asshole, Jimmy bent over and moaned. His teammates laughed at him, but no one could quite see what was happening so they didn’t know that Avery was giving a rimjob.
Jimmy had clearly never had anyone lick his ass before. He gasped in shock with every lap of Avery’s tongue on that sensitive hole, and he writhed as though it hurt when Avery finally entered his ass. He backed his hips up, penetrating himself with Avery’s tongue.
The sweaty ass-funk of Jimmy’s unwashed body coated Avery’s mouth. He loved licking a big macho straight man’s asshole because it always tasted so nasty in a perfect way — it tasted like pure manhood, like Avery had taken all of the things that make a man manly and put them in a blender, then chugged it by the mouthful.
“I don’t know ’bout y’all,” Raython said with a groan. He loudly smacked his gymnast’s ass. “But I’m gonna stick this guy in the ass. That okay wit’ you, queer?” He laughed.
“What?!”
“You serious, Raython?”
In the darkness, Avery couldn’t see, but it sounded like Raython wasn’t waiting for the approval of his teammates. A moist slapping sound filled the air, and Avery could tell that it was Raython’s uncut cock sliding into someone’s ass.
“Hell yeah, I’s serious,” Raython said. “Real men don’t care what they stick it in, y’know. When yo’ balls is full, you gotta drain ’em somewhere.”
“No way!”
“Uh-huh.”
Raython cackled. “What ’bout you, Jimmy? You a real man or what?” The laughter vanished. Avery stuck his tongue deep in Jimmy’s ass as he reached around to stroke Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy bristled and his spine arched. Avery got the impression that Raython was Jimmy’s chief rival for the team captaincy next year, so this was just the most recent of Raython’s attempts to degrade Jimmy’s manhood.
“Fuck you, Raython, I ain’t squeamish. You know that. I took sloppy ninths on that fat chick, remember-?”
“Yeah, that ain’t nothin’, Jimmy.”
“Nothin’?! There was cum oozing out of her, man! It was dripping off my balls in clumps!”
“You drew the short straw!”
“Yeah, I know, but if I was squeamish I would’ve backed out. And I am gonna stick my guy in the ass. He been beggin’ me for it,” Jimmy said. He roared and pulled his ass away from Avery’s face. Before Avery even realized what was happening, he was bent over the thin bench between the lockers, and Jimmy began to shove his dick in.
Avery was focused on two things — first, he needed to relax his ass so Jimmy could get really deep inside him in it. Second, he needed to balance himself on the narrow bench, at one end of which sat a player, the wide receiver George. He faced away from Avery as he allowed some gymnast to get him off.
Since Avery was behind George, every time Jimmy slammed his dick into Avery’s ass, that forced Avery’s face forward. The motion planted Avery’s entire head in the meaty asscrack of George’s body, which was hairier and thicker than Jimmy’s.
He stuck his tongue out. He would have tried to lick George’s ass, maybe even given him a rimjob while Jimmy rammed his cock into Avery’s ass, but Jimmy pounded so hard Avery couldn’t keep still. All he could do was leave his tongue poking out so as he moved he covered George’s asscheeks and his lower back in his spit. He wasn’t even sure if George noticed — the players and the gymnasts were still crammed into a small area, so hands and tongues and muscled bodies bumped into each other all over the place.
“Yeah, ram it in that ass!”
Then the sensations grew so intense Avery couldn’t even keep his tongue out anymore. Jimmy pounded into him, his gingerness diminishing with every thrust of his hips. He used one thick-fingered hand to keep Avery’s head low, and his other elevated Avery’s hips so they were at the perfect height.
Jimmy’s big throbbing cock slid in and out. The precum flowed like frothy champagne, rivulets of it dripping into and out of Avery’s ass. Jimmy slammed his cock over and over, grunting — his reluctance had switched to aggressive lust now that he needed to prove something to Raython, who pounded even harder.
“Ugh, I smell that…”
The smell of cum and santorum filled the air. Was that Raython? George? Someone else? Avery couldn’t tell. Someone shot a huge, ripe load that smelled so tasty Avery licked at the air, succeeding only in getting a tongue-load of George’s ass instead.
After that first person — whoever it was — came, the others followed suit quickly. It seemed no one had wanted to be first, but no one wanted to be last either. They sprayed their loads over their bottoms’s faces and down their throats, moaning and flexing their muscles as they did. More than a few of them even slapped hands with each other while orgasming and filling their bottoms up with cum.
“Yeah, take that shit! Swallow it!”
“Open up!’
“Gonna fill yo’ guts, boi. Gonna fill ’em up real good.”
The loudest was Raython, whose roaring and pounding on his chest could be heard over the satisfied gurgling of the others. He grunted as he sprayed his load inside his bottom’s hole, coating his guts in cum that dripped out and onto the floor.
The smell of cum seemed to trigger Jimmy, who moaned in disgust, then in pleasure as he ran headlong into his own orgasm. His dick tingled and quivered, sending waves of pleasure up from Avery’s prostate.
He and Jimmy both came then at once, Avery shooting his load onto the floor and into his own hand, while Jimmy filled him up. “Ah, damn…” For the first time, Jimmy stopped gingerly avoiding touching Jimmy’s body. His knees buckled, and he leaned forward until his massive chest rested on Avery’s bare back.
If Avery weren’t mid-orgasm, it would have been painful because Jimmy was so big. His quarterback muscles pressed down on Avery, which forced Jimmy’s dick in so deep Avery tried to howl at the intense waves of sensations wracking his body — he couldn’t howl, however, because he couldn’t take a deep breath.
“Yeah, take it… Take it all…”
The cum flowed into him like water from a hose. He and Jimmy both moaned. Jimmy’s chest rattled where it dragged against Avery’s back, and Avery could hear Jimmy’s orgasmic grunt through his fleshy chest in addition to through his ears.
Jimmy lowered his head as he came, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care that his face was planted in George’s muscled back. Finally Jimmy’s cock twitched one last time, sending a final wave of bliss through Avery’s body.
Then Jimmy pulled off. His cock plopped out with an audible moist sound that made Avery shake with desire.
“Well, uh-” Jimmy’s voice was cut off by the lights flickering back on.
For a moment, both teams were visible. The football jocks were standing and seating, while the gymnasts were on the floor, hunched over, bent down, kneeling, groaning, writhing as they swallowed the cum that had just been sprayed over them.
“Hey!” Coach Marshall stood there, his face red. He blew his whistle. “Hey! Gymnasts, get outta here! I told you could come in and steal their jockstraps! I ain’t say you could steal their virtue! Get the fuck out!”
Avery felt a surge of fear, like he was going to get in trouble — he had always been a good student. He wasn’t used to being in trouble. But he saw that his teammates weren’t getting worked up. They slowly cleaned themselves and headed towards the door behind Coach Marshall.
“Football players! Get in the shower! Now! On the double!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, so loud spittle dripped from his lips. “We’re having a team meeting in the shower, and I’m turning the hot water off!”
The players grumbled, but they jumped into action. They were all naked already, so they hurried towards the shower, where a few of their teammates were already cleaning themselves off. The shower area was still steamy for now, because Marshall hadn’t yet turned the hot water off.
Avery and the other gymnasts just giggled and headed towards the door. As Avery passed Coach Marshall, he tickled his crotch and felt his middle-aged cock twitch underneath his own jockstrap. Avery had thought Marshall was intensely arousing since the first moment he laid eyes on him.
“Hey! I ain’t part of the jockstrap raid!” Coach Marshall said. Avery and his fellow gymnasts giggled. Coach Marshall’s authoritarian, drill-sergeant-vibe vanished like he didn’t know how to interact with non-jock men. “You had better not do this without permission, again, boys. I give permission for all jockstrap raids. Only me.”
“Well, when do we get to do it again?”
“Yeah, what about the wrestling team?”
Coach Marshall opened his mouth as though to bark out some orders. Then he nodded his head thoughtfully. “Yeah. Fine. If the wrestling team loses next weekend, you can do a jockstrap raid on them. And the baseball finals are the week after that…”
The gymnasts cheered over Coach Marshall’s recitation of the sports teams at GHU and their final matches, and Avery smiled. He thought he was going to enjoy his freshman year.

The Lumberjack

When Yoder’s leave from the lumber camp goes wrong, he’s got no choice but to spend the night with Cooter! Cooter’s a filthy, hairy redneck with some curious ideas on what men can do on lonely nights…

Can Yoder handle the kind of sweet release Cooter’s seeking?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Yoder assumed he would get laid on his night out. He had spent two weeks living in a remote camp in the middle of nowhere, working as a lumberjack on a remote tree farm in West Virginia. It was just him and about two dozen roughnecks like him, no women, for weeks. The work was arduous, and Yoder’s muscles ached so bad they were numb some days. Even today, when he was off all day, he struggled to get out of his bunk. His back and his legs and his shoulders ached like a Monday morning, and he could still feel the vibrations of yesterday’s chainsaw reverberating through his body.
Needless to say, the lumberjacks all planned on fucking whores when they finally got a night off in town (the “town” being Laramy, West Virginia). They done been talking about it for weeks even before Yoder showewd up — some them working-harders been living there in the woods for a couple months already. This was Yoder’s first job of this sort, but the others was old hats at it, and some had done been lumberjacking for decades. They steady procured a prostitute on their first night off, they did declare. It was a tradition of sorts.
Or maybe “tradition” was overselling it. They was just horny, and they don’t got the patience, stature or stability needed to attract a woman as a partner. Their only outlet — Yoder’s only outlet — was a prostitute.
That made Yoder nervous. He ain’t never had been with a prostitute. He was raised a God-fearing lad, and he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. He was afrighted for his very soul.
But he don’t admire to be left out, so he shown up to the alley behind the late-night bar in Laramy at the designated time with money in his pocket. There was a pimp there — dressed in a resplendent multicolored suit — and a bevy of women.
One by one, the roughnecks did choose a woman. That included this fat-ass Pollack who talked like he had gotten one of his extra chins stuck between his teeth, a half-Mexican who was the most racist son of a bitch Yoder had ever met and a gibbering hillbilly who had Mountain Dew for brains. None them got any trouble hiring a woman for the night, or for a couple hours at least.
But Yoder done arrived there last, and by the time it was his turn, there were no women left. The pimp shrugged and said sorry, that was it, he don’t got any more hos. He walked away, leaving Yoder there, dejected and alone.
Alone save for Cooter.
Jethro “Cooter” Wilde was the tallest lumberjack at the camp and the biggest one too. He was one them with experience, having done work as a lumberjack much of his life, and he had bulging muscles, a powerful body and a hairy chest. He spoke with a hoarse, gravelly voice from his constant smoking, and he was so loud and rambunctious that Yoder considered getting a hotel room just for himself, even without a whore — he didn’t much like the idea of spending the evening in camp with no one but Cooter to keep him company.
They could have drank alone in a bar, but that seemed pointless if there was no chance of getting laid (and in this rural area inhabited almost entirely by roughneck men, the chances of getting laid by a non-prostitute approached zero — even meeting a woman was a slim prospect). It was cheaper to drink back in the camp, so that was what they decided to do.
But when they got back to the cabins they had done built — first step on the job had been building their own cabins — they had locked up the stash. That wasn’t to keep Yoder and Cooter out, it was because another fracking company crew was working nearby and they had a reputation for stealing beer. Arnie ain’t think anyone would be here tonight.
So they ate dinner and then went to bed, both Yoder and Cooter too depressed to do much else. The lack of sex didn’t seem like a big deal to Yoder really, he was ambivalent about prostitution anyway. Well, not ambivalent, opposed.
But he would have done it. He thought now he would have done it. He had a girlfriend before coming to work at the lumberjack camp, and he missed her more than he thought possible. Not just her body either, but including her body. She loved to fuck.
If nobody ever brung up the prostitute thing, Yoder would have been fine. If nobody ever done invent prostitution, it wouldn’t have even occurred to him that he was missing out on a chance to fuck this weekend. No way to get a girlfriend living as a lumberjack out in the woods, so there was no way to fuck.
But there was a way to fuck without a girlfriend, and Yoder had missed out on it. Being so close to getting laid left him horny and unable to think about anything else. He even had the money to pay for it still in his pocket.
But now here he was, trying to sleep in the cabin he shared with nineteen other men. It smelled like body hair and like sweat and engine grease and sawdust. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see that old girlfriend again. Just hear her voice.
Or maybe hearing her voice would tantalize him all over again.
“Hey… Yoder…” came Cooter’s gravely voice from his upper bunk on the other side of the cabin.
“What?”
He jumped down from his bunk. His massive body jiggled as he stretched his legs and came over to Yoder’s side. “I can’t sleep,” he said. “I’m too horny.”
“Me neither.” Yoder paused. “You wanna take a turn in the porn shed?” That was a tool shed near the living quarters. Inside was a trunk filled with old-fashioned porn magazines (it also had tools). The roughnecks took turns jacking off there at night, and sometimes they didn’t even take turns. No room for squeamishness in Lumber Camp D. Yoder thought it was gross — he did it, of course, but in his mind, men should pretend they didn’t masturbate. He didn’t see the attraction of making everyone cum on the same photo in the same magazine until the entire thing was wrinkled and soggy, pages stuck together. Yoder didn’t like to touch it.
Some of the others, including Cooter, thought it was hilarious to make it filthy.
“I don’t wanna jack off.” Cooter stood there like he was waiting for something. With only two men, the cabin had an eerie liminality to it that made the hair on the back of Yoder’s neck stand on end. He didn’t like being in camp without all the people. It felt like a post-apocalyptic hauntscape. Cooter cleared his throat.
“Okay… then I guess go back to bed?”
Cooter took a deep breath. “You wanna… do somethin’?”
“What?”
“I mean… we could share mouth.” Cooter had suggested that before. Back when he was a young man, he claimed, there was no porno shed, or at least there was no porno. The lumberjacks traded mouths to get their nuts off.
Seemed gross to Yoder. It was gross. Yoder didn’t even like getting dome that much. Sure, it’d be nice, but it was no ass. Yoder loved ass for sure.
After a long pause, Yoder said, “Are you serious?”
Cooter nodded. He sat down on the edge of Yoder’s bunk. “Come on… if you swallow my dick, you know, full mouth, I’ll let you stick me up the ass.”
“What? Really? Yeah, I mean…” Yoder blurted out without thinking about it. In his mind, he wasn’t agreeing to do that, he was agreeing that it was a good trade, it was beneficial for him — Yoder would be getting more than he gave.
He wasn’t saying ‘yes’, per se, even if the thought of getting his dick in some booty was tantalizing. Yoder’s stiffy was still tenting his boxers. Cooter had a well-muscled ass, and Yoder was no stranger to cornholing a man when he got to — Yoder was from Smashwood Trailer Park, where cornholing a hobo was a veritable rite of passage.
But Cooter? He was hairy, sweaty, big… Yoder mighta said no if he got time to think about it, but Cooter took his agreement as a yes and ran with it, and by the time Yoder was brainstorming how to say no, Cooter was dropping his drawers.
“Oh thank god,” Cooter said. He flopped his fat cock between his fingers, swaying it left and right.
This was all happening very fast. Yoder still lay on his side on his bunk, and now Cooter sat naked right next to him. His broad, plump asscheeks spread out on the mattress. Yoder looked at the hair of his ass with considerable discomfort, both because he could only imagine Cooter farting onto Yoder’s mattress right now and because he was nervous about getting up into that hairy, massive ass. He was not going to be able to pretend he was with a woman.
But Yoder didn’t want to back out. He remained on his side but curled up around Cooter’s body so his head was near Cooter’s lap. The smell of cockmeat assaulted his nostrils. Cooter had a big dick, which he whacked across Yoder’s face. Cooter laughed.
“Can you not fuckin’ hit me with your cock?” Yoder asked. He flared his nostrils, not that Cooter could see it in the dark.
Cooter chuckled like Yoder was an idiot for asking. “Sorry, I was just playin’, hoss,” He sighed at the serious expression on Yoder’s face, dimly illuminated by the dim light at the cabin’s door. “Just get to it, Yoder, don’t blueball me. Make it nice and wet.”
Yoder sighed, but he cut his sigh short because his mouth filled with humid air from Cooter’s hairy crotch, as Cooter stood and faced Yoder’s bunk, his barbaric dick dangling free near Yoder’s head.
The air tasted like cock already. Cooter was a hairy redneck with a wild bear, and his wild furry crotch was dense and bushy. His dick was even bigger than it seemed from a distance because so much of it was concealed behind his pubic hair.
But Yoder didn’t want to put this off any longer, or Cooter was going to get angry, and Yoder’s cock was crying out for ass. Yoder opened his mouth and swallowed his dick down to the root.
Instantly a few sensations overwhelmed Yoder — first, there was disgust, as Cooter’s cock tasted like distilled manhood, like Yoder was licking every inch of his body rather than just sucking on the tip of his dick. Second, it didn’t taste anywhere’s near as bad as he had predicted. Maybe it was just because he was horny, Yoder thought, but this really wasn’t too bad. It tasted a lot like dirty pussy.
Of course he didn’t want to admit that. His throat opened up as he forced himself to deep-throat Cooter, all the way to the root. He had a big cock so Yoder struggled to get it all down, but when he did, Cooter’s entire body writhed from intense pleasure. His nose nuzzled Cooter’s pubic jungle.
That veiny beefy shaft throbbed in Yoder’s mouth. He let his tongue roam up and down the shaft because he knew he liked it when girls did that to him, and apparently Cooter enjoyed it too because he moaned and arched his back as Yoder did it. Yoder blushed — he hadn’t meant for it to look like he was good at this.
“Hey… will you gimme a reacharound when you stick it in me?” Cooter asked, his voice quiet as though there was some chance someone might could have done snuck into their camp to hear him. He pulled his dick away from Yoder’s mouth, and Yoder held back a gag as he wiped off spitty tendrils connecting his face to Cooter’s cock. That made him gag again.
“A reacharound?” Yoder’s voice was clipped and moist. He drooled because he didn’t want to swallow what was in his mouth, and he didn’t want to spit on the floor of the cabin he lived in.
“Yeah. Do I gotta explain what that is?”
“Well… I suppose I can guess,” Yoder said. “I thought you wanted mouth?”
“I do. I did. I can’t conc’ntrate on it knowin’ what’s ’bout to happen,” he said. “So if’n you j’st gimme a reacharound while you do it, t’won’t be that bad..”
“Fine, yeah, I’ll jack you off,” Yoder said, glad to stop tasting his nasty dick. He stood up next to his bunk and quickly dropped his sweatpants, while Cooter got on his knees and bent over.
That’s when Yoder realized how awkward this was gonna be.
Cooter was quite a bit taller and a lot heavier than Yoder. Even on his knees, the size difference was substantial, and Yoder hadta get him to lower his ass so Yoder could get it in him. Yoder was on his tiptoes to get his dick lined up with Cooter’s ass.
He felt small and skinny next to Cooter. In comparison to these other roughnecks, Yoder came across like a skinny prettyboy. That’s how they saw him. He wasn’t, not really, he just wasn’t the kind of raunchy-bearded hard-living freak who spent his whole life wandering between prison cells, work-camps and oil rigs.
And there was that hairy ass. Yoder hadn’t really thought about that until he saw it bent over before him, and now the time had come — he was going to put his dick in there. He felt like he was sticking it into a trap, but he was too horny to back out now. Besides that, he had already done his half. Quitting now would be humiliating.
He pushed his limp dick between those cheeks, nestled in the thick fur of Cooter’s hillbilly ass. Cooter grunted as though he was already in pain, though Yoder hadn’t even penetrated him yet. His body hair was coarse and unpleasant, distinctly unfeminine, Yoder was unable to pretend it was a woman’s pubic hair.
“You have a hairy ass, you fuckin’ redneck, shit…” Yoder gritted his teeth as he rubbed his dick in the hair of Cooter’s crack. Cooter laughed at him — he, like most of the other roughnecks in this camp, wore the redneck badge proudly.
Much to Yoder’s surprise, his dick got hard quickly, despite the ass-hair. The tension and anxiety flowing through his veins probably helped, but he hadta admit that Cooter’s muscular ass was arousing. The cheeks were tight, but plump, and the hair was moist with sweat, so when he could stop thinking about what he was doing, he could imagine a woman.
Yoder didn’t want to seem like he had trouble getting hard, so he quickly pushed his dick in, just the tip at first. He felt a surge of pleasure as his dick squeezed into Cooter’s tight asshole. He was not expecting it to feel this good.
Cooter grunted and buried his face in his meaty forearm. He held his breath, biting his upper lip as he struggled to loosen his ass. His toes curled against the ground.
“Open up, hoss,” Yoder said, chuckling as he imitated Cooter’s accent. Cooter grunted again, as though he didn’t appreciate Yoder’s joke, but Yoder didn’t care. He felt powerful, like he wasn’t the green rookie anymore. He felt like he had conquered Cooter, a much bigger and stronger man than he.
Yoder’s hands flailed above Cooter’s body. Cooter’s back muscles writhed, his shoulders etched like a statue; there was a confederate tattoo on his spine, and a Bible verse printed in flowing script on his ribs, extending onto his back. With the tattoos and the undulating muscles, Yoder couldn’t imagine he was touching a woman’s back, which was why Yoder kept his hands away.
But it was awkward to plow back and forth into his ass without touching Cooter. The more Yoder rammed his lower half at Cooter’s body, the fewer inhibitions he had, so his one hand separated the cheeks, ignoring the dense blanket of fur on Cooter’s ass. Meanwhile his other hand caressed Cooter’s back. His instincts took over, and all he could do was watch as his hand did what it wanted. The muscles beneath his grip writhed firmly like a layer of snakes below the skin.
“Don’t forget, hoss, you gotta gimme that reacharound…” Cooter said, his voice pinched and tense from pain.
Yoder had sort of forgotten that, or at least tried not to think about it. He sighed. His right hand moved from Cooter’s back muscles to his front. He had a hairy chest too, but Yoder moved down, through the dense thicket of fur there, until he felt coarse pubic hairs.
Then he wrapped his hand around that cock, which felt greasy and slick from Yoder’s mouth. The saliva was evaporating from the shaft, but there was still enough there to provide some lubrication. He trembled as he gave it a stroke and felt Cooter’s entire body move. The dickshaft pulsated beneath Yoder’s fingers.
Despite his discomfort with the situation, Yoder plowed harder and harder. His dick thrust into Cooter’s ass, each motion making Cooter gasp in a combination of pain and pleasure. Each thrust also sent tingles of desire up Yoder’s spine, making himg runt and groan along with Cooter.
“Damn, hoss, you go hard…”
Yoder was proud of that. He was smaller, weaker and less confident than Cooter in almost everything, so it felt good to know his dick caused Cooter some pain. He ground his dick in slowly, savoring the waves of pre-orgasmic pleasure that washed over him.
“You got a nice ass, Cooter, tight as hell… Wish you’d shave your asshole though,” Yoder said.
“Not a chance.”
The crippeting of the crickets and spring peepers outside was deafening, but Yoder listened attentively to it so he would hear if the others returned to the site. The more excited Yoder was, the more paranoid he became that the other campmates would be back early. Yoder knew Cooter had more to lose than he did, at least right now, but he remained paranoid as his dick slammed in and out of Cooter’s ruddy ass.
Yoder wasn’t sure he wanted to cum first, but he wasn’t able to prevent it. He thought it’d make him look like a wuss who couldn’t last a long time.
But Cooter’s ass was tight, and not even the forest of hair that choked his asshole could prevent Yoder from cumming. He moaned and slammed his hips hard against Cooter’s plump blue-collar ass. Cooter’s cheeks jiggled like a stripper’s.
Though Yoder would later call it weak to save face, the orgasm that wracked his mind and body was the most intense and potent of his life. His mind melted and his muscles all tensed at once. He felt victorious in a way he never had before, like he was extracting all of the manhood from Cooter, who cringed and writhed beneath Yoder’s much smaller body.
“God damn, you hillbilly fuck! Hell yeah!” Yoder was unable to conceal his excitement anymore. His spine arched as his climax roiled through his frame.
Cum spurted out and coated Cooter’s insides, his hot and creamy seed spreading within Cooter’s massive body. Yoder wasn’t sure how much he shot, but it felt like a lot, a bigger load than he had ever produced. Jet after jet of it angled into every corner of Cooter’s guts.
It dripped out and down Cooter’s legs, getting tangled in the coarse hairs of his thigh. Cooter moaned and shuddered. His fingers gripped the mattress on the bunk, and he took a deep breath as his ass filled up with Yoder’s cum.
When Yoder finally fell limp, his dick flopped out of Cooter’s ass. Yoder sighed with the power of his post-orgasmic pleasure, while Cooter sighed from relief that his ass was finally empty again.
“Get back to my dick, hoss…” Cooter said. His voice was tight like he was still in pain.
He sighed and got on his knees next to the bed, while Cooter rolled over. He winced and tentatively put weight on his ass. Yoder tried to hide how proud he was of the fact that his cock had hurt Cooter — Cooter was so much bigger than Yoder that it seemed reasonable to be proud of being able to hurt him. Yoder would have guessed that Cooter was big enough and tough enough to take any dick easily, if he had wanted to.
Cooter struggled to settle on his ass. His dick was rock-hard, throbbing and ready — it felt like it was already near orgasm as Yoder gripped it again. It seemed harder than his own dick ever was. Was that an illusion, he wondered? Or was Cooter really as hard as rock?
Regardless, Yoder swallowed it down, just like before. It tasted worse now, like salty cum as though Yoder’s load had come out Cooter’s dick. He tasted it for a few seconds before he realized it was precum.
That made him gag, but Yoder didn’t stop. Cooter wrapped his hands around Yoder’s head and held on. He slammed his dick all the way — all his gentility was gone, like he had only been gentle about it before because he wanted Yoder to treat him gently when Yoder got him in the ass, or maybe it was because he now felt he needed to reassert his masculine dominance. Or maybe, Yoder thought, he was just so horny he couldn’t help himself. He throated Yoder hard, chuckling as Yoder gagged when his dick hit the back of his throat.
He stopped moving with his cock all the way into Yoder’s throat, his shaft pulsating, the veins of his dick throbbing as Yoder sensed cum flowing towards the tip. That sensation — feeling semen flow through Cooter’s dick in his mouth, his balls crawling up in his sac, giant muscles tensing and relaxing in waves above Yoder’s head — made Yoder gag all over again.
“Ah, yeah, makin’ love to yo’ throat, hoss, that’s what that is…” Cooter said with a groan and a laugh.
Yoder had thought his own load was thick and plentiful, but that was nothing compared to what came out of Cooter’s cock. It felt like he was chugging it, and it flowed out in a constant stream. It coated Yoder’s tongue and the inside of his cheeks, and it sprayed down his gullet, while more dripped out past his lips.
The taste was sour, sweet and salty all at once. It made Yoder’s eyes water the flavor was so potent, and he could sense its heat suffusing from his stomach to every corner of his belly.
At last Cooter let go of Yoder’s head. Yoder pulled off and sputtered as cum dripped from his mouth. He held back a gag, then darted to the back door of the cabin to spit it up into the grass.
“Thanks,” Cooter called out from the bunk. “You swallow dick good, hoss.”
“Fuck you, you got a nice, tight ass. Or you did have a nice, tight ass anyway,” Yoder said with a nervous laugh, as he returned from the back door.. He stayed away from Cooter, whose limp dick still loomed large between his legs. They both tried to catch their breath.
Then Yoder’s blood froze when he heard a truck engine rumbling outside the cabin. Raucous laughter emanated from outside, and Yoder jumped to his feet. He bumped into Cooter, who did likewise, and Yoder got a faceful of funk-sweat plastered all over his skin. The salt of Cooter’s chest hair and sweat trickled into Yoder’s mouth, making his lips pucker.
Damn, those bitches is already asleep! I’m glad I got my nut off!
They were back early. Yoder felt like he was covered in cum and it would be obvious what happened. Should he take the time to wipe his face off? Or just hide under the covers?
Cooter strode outside, stark naked, totally confident, stretching his legs as he tried to hide the pain in his ass. He grabbed his shower stuff as he went — he was known for walking to the shower-tent naked, so that was a good idea. Yoder wished he had thought of it. He watched Cooter’s naked hairy ass jiggle as he walked outside.
What’s up, boys? You fuck the shit outta those ugly whores?!
You’re a damn pussy, Cooter. You could’ve had sloppy seconds, y’know.
Did you and Yoder have a circlejerk?
What?
That’s what we all guessed you was doin’ back here.
We ain’t do that. We just took turns in the porno shed.
Yoder quickly wiped his face off with his own t-shirt, then darted underneath the sheet on his bunk. The whole mattress stank of Cooter and his hairy ass, but Yoder was terrified of being caught so that didn’t bother him. Would they see cum on his face? Had he wiped it all off? Would they smell the funk?
The cabin door opened, and Yoder scrunched his eyes up to pretend to be asleep. He had, however, never been more awake in his life. He sighed and tried to pretend he was ignoring his campmates as they took their own clothes off, bragging about how hard they had fucked their respective whores.
If only they knew, Yoder thought with a wry smile as he finally drifted off to sleep. A part of him was glad he hadn’t fucked a prostitute. That would have been immoral and expensive. It was better to swing on the downlow with Cooter.
As a matter of fact, Yoder had another leave coming up in two weekends. He wondered if Cooter would be willing to take a second go. This, Yoder thought, just might make his time as a lumberjack a lot more satisfying.

The Hustler

Rob stumbles across an alpha male biker in need of cash, a place to stay and a chance to get a nut off, which are all problems Rob is eager to help solve. That means Rob is in for a night of raunchy action, dominance and a mind-blowing orgasm.

Can Rob handle the firm hand of his new friend?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob sat in his coffeeshop, looking at the novel he had just finished writing. He had finished it too recently to edit it now. It was tough to edit something right after you wrote it. But his deadline was tomorrow, so Rob was trying to gin up the energy to do it anyway.
He didn’t really have to meet the deadline. Most freelance writers were so flaky, he was seen as “on-time and ultra-efficient” if he was less than a week late. That would give Rob a few days to decompress, then look over the novel with a fresh pair of eyes.
He just didn’t want to have this Mafia romance hanging over his head any longer.
He idly googled the Mafia. There needed to be some fact specific to the Mafia that worked into the plot. Right now, it was just a story with criminals in it — that they were Mafia was mentioned in the prose, but not demonstrated through an action. They were just generic criminals so far. Rob needed to add a tidbit that directly related to some Mafia word like omertà or consigliere. But not as hokey or well-known as those, it needed to be something else.
A goombah was a man’s mistress. That could be something, Rob thought, but women might find it offensive, even if it was only a villainous kidnapper’s woman.
He kept scrolling through lists of Mafia slang. Most of them had the same twenty or so words.
Who’s that? Someone caught Rob’s gaze.
There was a man outside, hanging out near the motorcycle shop on the street. He caught Rob’s eye. He looked vaguely bikerish, but Rob didn’t get the impression he had any intention of going into the motorcycle shop next-door. He just milled about near the practice-lot for new motorcyclists and smoked a cigarette.
The man was medium-height but well-muscled, his broad shoulders showed off by a sleeveless shirt. He had a scruffy mustache and a scruffier beard, and dark eyes, with long black hair that was tangled and greasy.
He threw his cigarette on the ground. Then he curled his lip at a young black man walking by. They both nodded at each other as though they knew each other — there was hostility though, like they had fought once. When the black guy went past, the biker licked his teeth and watched him go. He exhaled a long plume of smoke.
As soon as he snubbed out his cigarette, the white man with the black hair lit another one. Was he waiting for someone? Rob sensed an opportunity for rough trade.
He paid for his coffee and put his laptop away before heading out to his car. He knew from personal experience that the best way to get a hustler off the street was with a car. That would signal that Rob had some money, and it would get the hustler somewhere more private.
He pulled to a stop in front of the bike shop. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
The hustler scowled and looked in the passenger side window. Cars streamed past Rob on the street. “What?” he barked into the window.
“Hey, how you doin’? You know cars? I could use someone who knows cars. My car’s making this noise, it’s sort of a thwump-thwump-“
“You lookin’ for a mechanic?”
“Bah, you know, they’re all crooks. They’ll cheat me, I know it. They always do. I usually just look around for someone who might know what they’re talking about. You’re into motorcycles, right? You must know about cars.” Rob gestured towards the motorcycle shop.
“You payin’?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll treat you right, I swear.”
The hustler shrugged and nodded. He got in the passenger seat. “Yeah. I know cars. I mean, sort of.”
“Cool, sweet.” Rob cleared his throat. “I’m Rob.”
“Glasser.”
“Cool, Glasser, sweet,” Rob said. “So-“
“What sound is ya car makin’? I don’t hear nothin’.”
“Oh, not this car,” Rob said. “It’s my other car, back at my place. I’ll take you there. Where do you live, Glasser?”
He shrugged. “Around.” He let out a shiver. Now that he was out of the cold air and the light drizzle, he found it more difficult to keep himself from shivering.
“You got a girlfriend?”
Glasser scoffed like that was absurd. “I got females I mess wit’.”
“Uh-huh. Sweet. Cool.” Rob smiled at him as he got on the highway. “So, uh… you horny?”
“Always.” Glasser crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window. That position accentuated his pecs, which pressed against his too small tee shirt. His biceps gleamed with either sweat or rain or both.
“You wanna… y’know… do somethin’ ‘bout that?” Rob asked. Glasser ignored him, just staring out the window. Rob gingerly touched Glasser’s left bicep. Glasser still ignored him. Rob squeezed his arm and caressed it, his fingers slipping under Glasser’s sleeveless shirt to his shoulder. That made Glasser’s muscles all twitch at once. With one hand still on the steering wheel, Rob massaged Glasser’s back with his other hand. “Can you take your dick out?”
Glasser sighed like that was a huge imposition. His mustache quivered. He unzipped his dirty camo pants and took his dick out — again, he looked back out the window, avoiding Rob’s gaze. He had a hefty dick, plenty thick and tanned a dark brown, just a shade darker than his skin.
He just took it out and let it flop against the fabric of his rain-soaked pants. He didn’t play with it or anything. It just lay there like an abandoned sausage.
“You have a nice cock. I really do have a car at home that makes a thwump-thwump sound. I think something’s loose in the undercarriage,” he said. “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can fix it tonight.”
After a long, pregnant pause, Glasser said, “I might need tools.” His dickfat jiggled when he spoke. He exhaled another plume from that ever-present cigarette.
“I’ve got some tools. If there’s something you can’t do tonight, then we’ll work something else out,” Rob said. He grabbed Glasser’s limp cock with one hand. He didn’t sroke it, he just held on like a handle, gauging Glasser’s reaction. Rob faced the road, so he couldn’t see his face, but he sensed only a blankness from him.
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring out the window intently like he might see something interesting if he looked hard enough. It was dark out though. There was nothing to see but the streetlights and the other cars whizzing by on the highway. His dick throbbed and jostled in Rob’s grip.
“Okay, cool, thanks,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock a squeeze and a stroke, and still Glasser ignored it.
Glasser ignored Rob’s finger as it moved in a little circle over the spot on the underside of his cock, right where the glans met the shaft. His dick was heavy and thick. Rob stroked it with just one finger at first. He rubbed that finger from tip to root and back, while Glasser sighed.
At last, Glasser looked away from the window and watched Rob stroke his dick. He didn’t say anything.
“You let guys jack you off a lot?”
“No.”
” I’ll pay you. Hundred bucks, if you let me swallow your cum. Plus fifty to fix my car,” Rob said. “You need a place to stay?”
Glasser didn’t answer, but he grunted in a way that made the answer clear — yes. He watched his cockshaft as it flopped limply in Rob’s hand. Rob stroked slowly. He made no effort to get it hard, he was just playing with it the best he could while still driving the car with the other hand.
“You want a drink?”
Glasser glowered for a moment, then said, “Can’t. Gots a parole officer who gonna test my piss tomorrow.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Rob said. He kept stroking. Glasser’s limp dick was hot and moist with sweat. Rob was pretty sure he was trying hard not to get an erection yet. Was that to hold out for more money? Just plain anxiety? Did he drink enough he actually had trouble getting an erection? Or did he just want to prove he couldn’t get hard for a man too easily?
Pulling off the highway, Rob slowed down the car but sped up his stroking. He squeezed a bit too. That made Glasser grunt.
His cock pulsated and twitched. It began to firm up in Rob’s mind. Glasser returned to looking intently out the window. At least now there were things out there — a gas station, a dog running along the side of the road, a woman parking.
“I wanna swallow your cum.”
Glasser chuckled throatily — it was a dim, minimal chuckle, but still, it was the strongest emotion he had shown yet. “That’s nasty.” He paused. “Don’t show me ya mouth. Some perverts do that, they jerk a man off and swallow and then open up so I can see — that’s fuckin’ disgusting. Don’t do — I mean, I ain’t sayin’ I let fellers jerk me off. I don’t do that, no sir, not on the regular. I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I used to, alright? When I was doin’ drugs, I mean, I used to let all kinda boys handle my meat,” Glasser said. “That’s all. I ain’t doin’ it no more.” He sniffled. “After tonight.”
“Okay. Cool. I get to be your last, huh?” Rob said with a laugh. He pulled into his driveway and put the car in park in front of his garage. Then he lowered his head to Glasser’s crotch and deep-throated him to the root, all in one smooth motion.
“Shit…” Glasser said. His eyes opened wide — not that Rob could see it — and he had to hold back a gasp. He didn’t know it would feel this good right away. He sucked in on his cigarette then coughed, which rammed his cock deep into Rob’s throat.
Rob grinned as he choked. Even though he couldn’t see Glasser’s face, he knew what was happening. Glasser was shocked at how good this felt but he was trying to hide it. He could sense it in Glasser’s feet curling and lifting off the car floor, in the tensing of his thigh muscles and the sudden explosive erection — his dick got noticeably more erect just in the moments it took Rob to go from playing with it to swallowing the whole foot-long shaft.
Betcha no women swallow him that deep, Rob thought… He would have said it out loud if his mouth weren’t full.
Glasser growled, a low rumbling sound that bounced out of his mouth through his gritted teeth. He lifted his ass off the seat and grabbed Rob’s head with both hands.
“Take it, man, swallow it, swallow that shit, sissy, c’mon…” Glasser said. His swarthy face turned reddish. He grunted loudly, like an angry hog, and he gripped Rob’s scalp tightly. “Don’t stop, man, I’m gonna nut.”
Rob wasn’t expecting him to cum so quickly, especially since it had taken Glasser awhile to get hard. But Rob didn’t mind — he thought he could get another load out of Glasser tonight. Hot streams of jizz poured down Rob’s throat, and he choked loudly even as he managed to get every drop down his gullet.
His lungs cried out for oxygen, but Rob managed to avoid spitting out the cum that flowed deep into his throat. Glasser held him tightly, all the way down on that massive dick, which tasted of rain and dirty clothes. His cum, on the other hand, was bright and warm and sunny, creamy like… well, cream, and salty in a good way. Rob savored the taste as it pumped down his gullet.
“You’s makin’ a sloppy mess, sissy,” Glasser said, heaving for air as he orgasmed in Rob’s mouth. He frowned, gripping Rob’s hair even more tightly. He bucked his hips, forcing his dick all the way in once more for the last few wads of cum. It coated Rob’s throat and sat hotly in his belly. “Goddamn…”
When he could resist no longer, Rob sputtered, unable to avoid making a big mess of cum that spewed out and soaked into Glasser’s pubic hair. It coated the surface of his jeans too. Even when he thought ht was done spitting up, Rob moved his head just an inch, which triggered both another explosion of pleasure in Glasser and a gag that roiled Rob’s body. Rob retched up a mouthload, while Glasser let out an involuntary moan that turned into a stonefacing grunt. He kept Rob’s dick in place, forcing him to choke up again and against, the sensation massaging Glasser’s sensitive shaft.
At last, Rob pulled off completely, forcing his head away from Glasser’s cock cuz Glasser held on tight like he was never gonna let him take a breath. Rob grabbed a coarse lungful of air, while Glasser sighed. Then Rob moved to kiss him on the lips, an instinctual move he didn’t think Glasser would accept. Glasser gently pushed and then rudely slapped his cum-dripping face.
“Don’chu dare kiss me.” He coughed, making his dickfat jiggle once more as it rapidly limpened up. “You nothin’ special, pansy.” Glasser wasn’t about to admit that that was an especially good dome — he would never admit that because it sounded too queer to say out loud. But it was obvious from his breathless reaction and the way his whole body went limp at once as he let go of Rob’s head. Rob at last pulled off and took a big, deep breath, which made a hoarse sound that filled the tiny cabin of the car.
“Hmmm… Damn, you… got dick… for days,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock another stroke, which made Glasser gasp and his whole body squirm.
Glasser smacked Rob — not as hard as he could but hard enough to hurt. Glasser hadn’t wanted to squirm like that, it made him feel weak. “I ain’t say you could swallow it.”
“Oh, sorry, okay,” Rob said. He wiped his face off. “You wanna come in-?”
“Pay me, bitch.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Rob pulled out the hundred dollars he had promised and handed it over. He pointed to the garage. “Did you want to work on the car tonight? You could sleep tonight instead and do it tomorrow-“
“You got electricity in ya garage?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll work tonight.” Glasser got out of the car — only then putting his dick away and realizing how much cum had gotten on his pants. He went out to stand in the rain to “wash” the stain off some. “Just go to bed, sissy. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and finish the car tomorrow.”
“Oh. I…” Rob wanted to ask if Glasser was going to ram him in the ass. He had hoped to do more than just play with his dick for about three minutes. But he sensed that the more he pushed right now, the less cooperative Glasser would be. “Okay.”
Rob went inside. He first made himself some food — just pasta with a bunch of leftovers mixed in, but he made sure to pan-fry some onions and garlic in butter — no one, he thought, could resist that smell. He knew it was smellable out in the garage too.
But Glasser still didn’t come in. When Rob went out there to check on him, he was pretty sure Glasser hadn’t been doing any work until Rob came to the garage door. Then he slid under the car and pretended to be doing something.
It soon became obvious that the car was fixed. Glasser wasn’t going to come in the house until Rob was in bed. Rob just shrugged — a lot of men will do what they have to for money, but not sleep with men, or kiss them, or even hug them in some cases. Obviously Glasser was one of those kind of guys.
Rob put a pillow and blanket out by the couch, plus a bowl of food in the kitchen. He thought he’d get Glasser later tonight or very early tomorrow morning — he’d be horny again then, and he’d probably want money to go out drinking after meeting with his parole officer.
Then Rob turned out the lights and went to bed. Sure enough, he heard Glasser come in about twenty minutes later. Rob didn’t go out. If Glasser was homeless — which now seemed like a real possibility — he probably wanted a chance to be in a home, by himself, to relax. He heard Glasser turn the TV on — that took some fumbling with the remote, but Rob didn’t go out there to help. He let Glasser figure it out on his own.
Rob was just about asleep when the door to his bedroom opened up. His ears twitched. Glasser’s baritone burp filled the air (it smelled like the leftover pasta Rob had left out for him).
“Hey. I’m gonna ram you. Don’t say nothin’,” Glasser said. He pulled the covers off Rob and dragged his shorts down. Glasser was already naked, his dick already hard because he had found some hip-hop videos on the TV, which were thinly disguised softcore pornography. He slid his dick between Rob’s cheeks and climbed into the bed with him.
Rob wanted to ask a bunch of questions — did Glasser want a ride to his parole officer tomorrow? Did he want to use a condom? Did he want the lights on? Did he want Rob to get on all fours? That was the position men seemed to want the most often — because it didn’t require them to look at Rob’s face, his breastless chest or his cock and balls. From behind, Rob looked very feminine except for the short haircut. But then, it was dark in here anyway, so Glasser could have easily pretended Rob was female in any position.
In any case, Glasser didn’t seem too concerned about that. His hairy chest scratched at Rob’s smooth back, as Glasser humped his dick between Rob’s cheeks.
“Shush…” Glasser said after he let out a groan. He kept on shushing Rob, even though Rob barely peeped. It was Glasser who kept grunting and clucking his tongue against his teeth whenever Rob didn’t move in the direction he wanted.
Glasser brought the covers back up as though he wanted to cover this up, so no one could see what was happening. He lifted his hips up to give himself some leverage, then aimed his dick for Rob’s asshole.
“Open that ass, punk, lemme in,” Glasser said, whispering breathlessly into Rob’s ear. He slapped one of Rob’s cheeks just as his dick pushed in.
Rob grunted. At last, he finally made a sound, and Glasser erupted in a torrent of hushing. Rob squirmed as pressure hit his ass, an intense pushing sensation that was hard to take at first — this was all going so fast. After waiting for hours, Rob was finally getting rammed by his favorite hustler yet, he just needed a moment to adjust.
But Glasser wasn’t waiting a moment. He gritted his teeth and pumped his hips once more, forcing more of his dick down and into Rob’s ass. He was relentless.
He pushed Rob’s face into the mattress. “Lift ya asshole up.” He lifted his own body up as he rammed all the way in and out now. Rob had to raise his hips to meet Glasser’s cock, and soon Rob was knelt over instead of on all fours. He cried out and groaned, but Glasser again shushed him. “Quiet, keep it real quiet…”
Glasser had gotten into the habit of plowing men on the downlow, in the darkness and quiet, during his first stay in jail. Back then, he had been in a small local jail with a sheriff who strictly forbade premarital sex and even circlejerking — that was what Glasser’s biker gang traditionally did when they got arrested, to “christen” their new cell. So Glasser had started ramrodding his cellmate with the lights off, as quietly as possible, and with blankets covering him.
That was why now, even though the positioning made it awkward, Glasser tried to keep the blankets covering up his crotch and Rob’s ass. He had to use one hand on that so he could only use one hand to hold Rob in position. He pressed down on Rob’s head, which meant he couldn’t hold onto Rob’s ass — instead, every time Rob moved too much, Glasser growled to signal he should keep his ass high. And when Rob’s motion made the blanket fall away, Glasser smacked his asscheek.
“Shush, I’m gonna nut now, I’m gonna nut…” As Glasser felt his orgasm approach, he collapsed onto the bed. This felt good. It was like making love to a woman. He pulled the covers over Rob all the way up to the neck. That made it easy, especially in the dark, to pretend Rob was a woman — Glasser wasn’t pretending that, but he felt he needed to leave the option open, so he could, and so he could tell others later (not that he would tell anyone about this) that he had had to pretend Rob was a woman in order to ram him.
But actually, Glasser didn’t pretend that at all. He just wanted to bust a nut. He slid onto his side, and wrapped both hands all the way around Rob’s chest. He even kissed Rob’s cheek and nuzzled his neck as he orgasmed.
“Ah, goddamn, yeah, keep ya asshole open, keep it open…” Glasser moaned right into Rob’s ear. His breath condensed on his cheek. “Keep it open, pansy, lemme fill you up…”
Rob sprayed his own wad onto his belly and into his hands, just as he felt Glasser’s muscles spasm against his back. The petrichorian smell that clung to his unwashed body was overpowering now that it was trapped by the sheet, and since Rob was smaller than Glasser, he was buried in the scent of Glasser’s chest hair and armpit sweat.
Cum flew into Rob’s ass. Glasser was one of those who stayed still as he came, his dick all the way in, spurting wad after wad of white-hot cum. It was creamy and thick, sticky, seeping into Rob’s flesh. He felt it flowing within him.
Glasser was motionless for what felt like forever, as liquid orgasm coursed through his veins. He hadn’t blown a nut this good since prison. He attributed that to Rob having a nicer ass than most of the common prostitutes he hooked up with on the street. Being able to mess around in a bed instead of behind a dumpster helped a lot too. And Rob was clean enough to kiss, not that he intended to do any kissing.
After one final spurt of jizz up Rob’s guts, Glasser began humping again, very slowly, just grinding, sliding his half-hard dick around within Rob’s ass. He grunted along with Rob when the pain grew more intense, and Rob clenched, sending a wave of pleasure through Glasser’s post-orgasmic body.
“Shit…” Glasser said. He sighed, and for just a moment, he stayed there, breathing heavily, dick sliding moistly out of Rob’s ass. He kissed Rob’s cheek. It was affectionate and intimate, and Glasser loved it.
But he couldn’t let himself continue that. He rolled over and off Rob’s back. Rob took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” Rob said.
Glasser stood and lit a cigarette — mainly because he knew Rob didn’t allow smoking in the house and he wanted to show he did whatever he wanted, that he wasn’t letting some man be the boss of him. The smell of tobacco filled the air. Glasser smoked quietly, standing near enough to the bed that Rob could hug his hairy thighs and clean his dick off with a tissue.
Then Glasser grunted and walked out of the bedroom. “I’ll sleep on the couch, asshole,” he said. “You owe me fifty bucks for the car and two hundred for plowing you in the ass.” He paused. “Get me up at nine o’clock and drive me to the parole office. You better buy me breakfast too. Not Burger King.”
“Okay.”
Glasser went back into the other room to sleep on the couch. Last thing he did before going to sleep was sliding Rob’s ipad into the backpack he brought over here. No punk, he thought, deserves to go without being robbed.