cunnilingus – Mansploitation

The Gigolo

Galeno is a gigolo who makes love to women for money, but he just might be willing to service Teddy too… Can Teddy convince him to cross the thin lavender line?

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Teddy placed a plate of chicken on the bar in front of the couple, who nodded at him but didn’t pay much attention. The woman didn’t look at him because she was focused on her man, Galeno. Galeno didn’t look at Teddy because he was a man on a mission. Teddy might as well have been invisible.
Galeno used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. He popped it in her mouth and she squealed. Galeno smiled, showing off those dimples to die for.
Arousal filled the air, virtually radiating off the couple and making the whole bar feel like a bordello. Teddy found it difficult to look away because Galeno was so handsome.
Teddy worked in the Rockhard Country Club and he’d become increasingly certain that Galeno was a gigolo. The place was chock-full of women, more than most country clubs, and Galeno was usually with one.
He wasn’t with the same one every night though. He cycled between them. He could, of course, have simply been a player, maybe he got laid a lot. Teddy was jealous of those ladies. That didn’t mean Galeno was a gigolo. But it was the only thing that really made sense to Teddy.
Galeno never got “caught”. After more than a year of constant womanizing out of the same country club, that seemed unlikely. Surely at some point, a woman he had been with previously would come in to the country club she was a member of. She’d see Galeno with another woman. Teddy was pretty sure that had happened at least once, when he saw a woman coming in whom he’d seen with Galena a few weeks prior. But the woman had just shrugged at the sight of Galeno with a different woman.
So him being a gigolo made sense, that would explain it too.
Of course they could have just broken up, maybe that was why she didn’t get upset. That was another reasonable explanation. Teddy couldn’t quite be sure. It simply violated everything he thought he knew about sexual interaction to assume Galeno could serially date every woman in this place and not spark any kind of jealous encounter or public breakup.
He didn’t want to look like he was spying on them, so Teddy didn’t stick around at the bar. Galeno and his current woman were eating their chicken very slowly and would not likely order anything else. He poured a couple wines for one of the waitresses, then went to the walk-in to get more limes.
There was a woman there crying. She had scurried behind the wall separating the corridor from the bar and restaurant, so nobody could see her until they came up close. She had her face in her arm, buried against the wall. A loud choked sob came from her lips.
“Uh… Miss?” Teddy came closer.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She wiped her tears away. “I just… I don’t feel quite like myself.”
“You don’t need to apologize. If you want, you can sit in the pantry right there, that’s even more alone than this hall. You can sit in the walk-in too, but that’s pretty cold. You might not like it there,” Teddy said. “I love your necklace, by the way.” It was just a glittery piece of gold, nothing special, but Teddy thought she needed a pick-me-up.
“Thanks.” She sniffled.
“Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”
“Not unless you can turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats,” she said with a sniffle.
Teddy shrugged. “I’ve never tried to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats. Lemme try.” He closed his eyes and pulled on his ears like he was a silly kids’ magician doing a trick. “Abracadabra!” He paused. “Did it work? Ah… no, I still don’t wanna be a stepdad.” He frowned at her. “Sorry. The answer is no, I don’t have the ability to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be a stepfather to three ungrateful brats.”
She laughed through her tears. “Thanks for trying. I guess I should have mentioned you’d have to be willing to marry me too.”
“You’re just full of rules.”
“I’d even be willing to forget about the stepfather-thing. I just want a man to take me seriously… I got stood up by this man as soon as he saw me and I told him I had three kids. We got along great online, we chatted for hours… And then he just snuck out on our first date. He said he had to go to the bathroom, and he disappeared.”
“Oh… That’s terrible… Look on the bright side: He could have been kidnapped by yakuza.”
A smile flickered over her face. “You’re silly. I’m Carla, and I-“
They were interrupted by an angry shout from the bar. Teddy turned to look and saw Galeno watching as a woman stormed away. She had thrown her drink in his face. Galeno shrugged. He wiped his face off, then finished his chicken.
“Excuse me, Carla,” Teddy said. He hurried back to the bar to clean up the liquor that had spilled.
Galeno nodded at him. “Good evening,” he said in that cloying Brazilian accent. “Sorry about the mess, senhor.” He had long curly black hair that extended well past his shoulders, and dusky brown skin. His accent fit him like the tailored suit he also wore. His dimples mesmerized like a swaying cobra. The sight of those compelling brown eyes made Teddy’s knees weak, and the feel of his hot breath glancingly condensing on Teddy’s arm made him want to swoon into Galeno’s powerful arms.
“Uh, so…” Teddy glanced back at the corridor beyond which he saw Betty’s shadow. Teddy cleared his throat. “You’re really into girls, right?”
Galeno scoffed.
“Do you… accept money from them?”
Galeno nodded. “That is why she left from here. She paid for one day, and she got it, for absolutely. I told her she must do payment for more time or I would leave,” he said with a sigh. His accent stuck in Teddy’s ears and made him crave more. Galeno’s soft skin beckoned. His English was good, not perfect, but perfectly wrong. Galeno made a kissy face and said, “She believed I did fallen into love with her.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I did. I fall into love with all women, no matter their size or age or shape. They have such beautiful flavors, and each one is a papaya of infinite sweetness. I could consume their tender womanhoods for hours, each one different but each one the same, and-” Galeno saw Teddy’s expression and fell flat. “Yes, I like women. But they must pay. I give them very much good love, it is worth it.”
“So you’d… be with a woman whose kind of thick and maybe needs someone else to do her makeup for her?” Teddy asked. Galeno nodded. Teddy continued, “Well… I’ve got a client for you. What do you charge?”
“For a whole day? I would ask-“
“A day? What am I, a vicarious nymphomaniac?”
“O que você quer dizer?”
“Nevermind, no, not a whole day. Just… an hour.”
He shrugged. “Four hundred dollars.”
“I can do that,” Teddy said. He took it out of his tips for the day. It was most of his tips so far today, but he could handle that. The Rockhard Country Club paid pretty good, and Teddy made tips on top of that.
Teddy went back to Carla, who was preparing to leave. He smiled at her. “I found you a man.”
“What? How?!”
“Well… Don’t get attached, he’s a gigolo,” Teddy said. “But I paid for him to satisfy you for an hour.” Teddy gestured to Galeno, who was getting up from the bar. His handsome face was framed by his magnificent mane.
Carla blushed and her knees went weak. She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, uh… He’s… He’s… a… Oh… I…”
Galeno came closer and took Betty’s hand in his. She blushed. Galeno leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Isso não significa nada.”
She swooned into his arms, and wrapped her hands around his well-muscled chest. Galeno’s hand roamed up and down her back as he led her away. Her breasts heaved, and Teddy could sense that her heart quickened. A few beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She erupted in a salad of giggles, while Galeno smiled at whatever she said.
They went to the disabled bathroom near the locker rooms. Teddy went back to the bar, a little disappointed that he didn’t even get to watch or anything. The bar was pretty quiet today. Nothing much to do. He sighed.
He went back to the disabled bathroom and put his head to the door. He couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of Carla orgasming. You could tell she was having her pussy eaten, Teddy thought. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could tell, that was a cunnilingus orgasm. He pictured Galeno’s broad brown back muscles writhing as he lapped at her womanhood.
Teddy wanted him bad. As a great admirer of the male physique, Teddy thought Galeno was ideal, his perfectly sculpted body suitable to model for Adonis or Heracles. He was so handsome Teddy thought it’d be weird, he didn’t have any frame of reference for how it felt to walk around with a face like that.
Perhaps he would let Teddy explore his body one day. Usually men only did that when they were horny and couldn’t nab a woman though, and it seemed unlikely that that would ever be a problem for a man like Galeno.
In any case, Teddy had other goals. He was trying to get this nineteen year-old caddy Noah who worked at the club and had a delightfully perfect body. He was much more reasonable. He had as much as said he would let a man jack him off for an X-Box. Teddy just needed to get him alone sometime, and he needed to buy an X-Box so he could make the deal whenever the time was right.
That nineteen year-old didn’t work today though. Teddy would have to wait for next week. Noah might have had a girlfriend now too, which would probably put the kibosh on Teddy’s efforts.
Noah vanished from his mind moments later though, when he saw Carla stumbling out of that disabled bathroom, positively aglow with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hair was a mess — it had been a mess before, but now it looked like birds had built a nest in it. She was dazed, and she didn’t even notice Teddy. It looked like she was still orgasming a little bit, her whole body twitching with every step.
Galeno sat down. “Cup in water, please,” he said. “I am feeling of thirst.” He smacked his chapped lips.
Teddy gave him the water. “So, Galeno… how was it? Was she nice?”
He shrugged, and he flashed a grin that accentuated his dimples. “She was good. Thank you for the business.”
“You’re welcome. Do you…-?”
“Yes, I will be with men as well, but only on top, and I charge fifty percent more,” he said. His accent was noticeably less pronounced when discussing money.
“Oh, so…”
“Three hundred dollars for an hour.”
“Well, shit,” Teddy said. “I’d have never bought you for her if I’d known that. Will you be ready to go again at midnight? That’s when I get off-“
He chuckled. “I am Brazilian. I can go again as soon as you wish,” he said proudly. “We have, eh, the, eh… infinite manhood.”
Teddy blushed and giggled again. This time, his giggles had become flirtatious. Teddy touched Galeno’s bicep through his polo shirt. It flexed under his touch. Galeno smiled, showing off his dimples. Teddy’s knees went weak again.
Then a customer came in, and Teddy had to make a drink. He left Galeno there at the bar. He was so excited he dropped the first glass, heart racing as he looked forward to his little rendezvous with Galeno.
Eventually midnight came, and Galeno had vanished. Teddy was disappointed. He supposed that Galeno probably found a woman — a second woman of the night. Even if he charged men more than women, Galeno would probably always choose a female client over a male.
But still, Teddy was hopeful that he’d land Galeno eventually. Obviously it was within the realm of possibility, he just needed to get the timing right. Really though, that was true of all men. If Teddy got in there at the right time and with the right incentive, any hunk would swing downlow.
The bar gradually emptied out as midnight approached, and then Teddy was alone. He cleaned up, exhausted, disappointed, more tired than he should be because he had been excited about getting it in the ass from a real Brazilian gigolo and now it seemed that wasn’t happening.
But there he was.
Galeno walked into the bar, alone, looking substantially different than before. He had changed out of his fine suit and into a brilliantly colored sleeveless shirt made of something like nylon, below which he wore a pair of shorts that were the same color. They were too short by modern American standards, but they weren’t “short shorts”, they were just old-fashioned, Teddy thought, or foreign — presumably typical of Brazil.
His hair was wet, his skin a little moist, whether from shower water or sweat, Teddy couldn’t tell. He was mesmerized by those deep brown eyes in which he lost himself.
“Hello,” Galeno said. He kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t hear. Galeno ran his fingers through his hair. He lowered his head and kissed Teddy on the lips. He picked Teddy up and walked into the walk-in pantry that was around the corner, near where Carla had been sobbing earlier.
Teddy was dizzy. He had been reconciled to the fact that Galeno wouldn’t be with him, and now here he was. He smelled faintly musky, but with a clean, fruity scent.
He didn’t know that Galeno had done this for him — Galeno had been hired by more than one man over the years, and he knew well how to appeal to them. While women preferred him in a clean suit like a businessman, men preferred him in a skimpy outfit to show off his muscles. Galeno had gone for a quick jog to get good and sweaty, then showered without soap — just rinsed off — so he would be musky while still smelling clean. If he had more time, he would have grown one day’s worth of beard-stubble too and even let his chest sprout a layer of fur. But that would require more than an hour and three hundred dollars.
Teddy felt like the heroine of a romance novel. He rubbed his face against the smooth muscle of Galeno’s bicep, and his fingers danced over Galeno’s chest.
Galeno deposited him in the pantry. It smelled strongly of rice and olive oil, with a tropical scent that was straight out of Brazil — was that the pantry? Or was that Galeno? Teddy didn’t know. He nuzzled Galeno’s chest, his hands roaming under his shirt and lifting it over his head.
Teddy was surprised at how passionate and involved Galeno was. A lot of times when he paid a man to jack off with him, the man acted like he wasn’t involved, like he was just renting his body out for a little while. That was hot; Teddy didn’t mind it.
But Galeno was different. Galeno treated him like a woman who needed to be seduced, showered with kisses and affection. Galeno had no hesitation about kissing a man, it seemed, and his hands even explored Teddy’s body.
That was because Galeno was Brazilian. Like most Brazilian men, Galeno saw himself as so horny, so virile and so masculine that he could be aroused by anyone, and he did not see it as problematic to do anything at all with a man — except get penetrated. He thought nothing of kissing a man on the lips, or even licking that man’s asshole like it was a pussy.
That was what Galeno did. He kissed a trail down Teddy’s slim, pale body, which trembled beneath his touch. Galeno tasted the tender sweetness of his skin, and pulled his pants down.
“Hmmm… You have nice… how do you say… uh… buttocks?” Galeno remembered the word ass, of course, but he knew it was alluring when he pretended to forget English words during the heat of the moment. “It is tasting of sweetness, yes?”
“Yes…” Teddy gasped. He hadn’t expected Galeno to lick his ass. Men didn’t normally do that.
But to Galeno, this was little different than licking a vagina, which he did expertly and often. He enjoyed the harsh funkiness of it, the intense flavor, and the deeply rutting sensation it aroused within him. It was almost enough to get him hard even without a woman in the room.
He lapped at Teddy’s ass until it was good and loose. Then, pulling his face away, Galeno nodded and smiled. Teddy was good and ready, both loose and tight at once. Teddy was on all fours now, and Galeno placed his pinkie finger right there at the entrance to his asshole. He didn’t penetrate him fully, just teased the rim, which made Teddy cry out.
“Hmmmm… you feel so good, my little namorado…” Galeno said breathlessly, aiming his words directly into Teddy’s mouth.
The one thing Galeno didn’t get to do to often was get his dick wet. Few of the women who paid for his services were willing to spend time sucking on his dick.
Galeno kept his finger at Teddy’s ass to keep it open and ready, stretching over Teddy’s back to reach it. That gave Teddy enough room to pop his lips on Galeno’s cock.
“Aaaaaaaaaah…….” Galeno let out a long, cringing moan as soon as Teddy’s lips touched his dick. He could tell that sound excited Teddy, so Galeno did it again and again.
A surge of pleasure hit him. Sometimes messing with Galeno could be clinical; it was a set-menu, a series of practiced actions he could perform in his sleep, each one bringing his clients to new heights of ecstasy. It was nice to do something new for a change, to pleasure somebody different than what he was recently used to. He moaned, glad he could be as loud and as deep as he wanted — that turned off most of the women who paid for his services, but not Teddy.
His cock rocketed to full erection. It tasted clean from his shower, but with that funky aftertaste that Teddy adored. He deep-throated it to the root, letting Galeno plow into his face. Teddy didn’t mind an aggressive dick in his throat, but Galeno, of course, didn’t do that. Galeno casually and caringly humped Teddy’s tongue and the back of his throat.
“Ah, yes, you have such a soft, perfect mouth,” Galeno said with another moan. He guided Teddy’s hand up to feel his nipples, and he flexed his pecs to make Teddy croon.
Finally he felt a few drops of precum hit Teddy’s tongue, which Galeno took as a sign it was time to move on. He quickly pulled Teddy up and had him bend over the shelves of the pantry. Teddy gripped one shelf tightly.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Galeno!”
“Hmmm… Kiss me…” Galeno pulled Teddy’s head to face him, and he planted his lips tightly on Teddy’s. His cock drilled in to Teddy’s tight hole, which was still open because of Galeno’s tongue and finger.
Teddy yelped, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the shelf. Galeno gripped his shoulders and slid his dick in, inch by inch.
This was another matter that was better with men than with women — women rarely chose anal sex, and when they did, they rarely wanted Galeno to fuck hard. They liked a slow, languorous fuck, something they could experience without a single note of discomfort.
Men, however, liked to jack off with force and power.
Galeno wasn’t aggressive, but he was plenty hard. His long hair swayed around his head as he gripped Teddy’s shoulders with one hand, and his hips with the other. He held him in place as he drilled his cock in all the way, until his balls slapped against Teddy’s thighs.
Immediately, Teddy let out a howl as a surge of pleasure wracked his body. He’d never been plowed up the butt quite like this. Galeno seemed to know exactly where his prostate was, and with each thrust of his hips, he stimulated it to a new plateau of intense bliss.
“Oh god, yes!”
Galeno chuckled at the sight of Teddy writhing beneath him. He leaned his head down, rubbing his chest muscles over Teddy’s smooth back. He whispered in Teddy’s ear, “Você está ativado por idiomas estrangeiros, sim?”
Teddy didn’t know what that meant, but he was too overwhelmed by the sensations exploding within him to notice; the sound was too arousing to think, and Galeno’s smooth voice echoed in his mind. He didn’t even realize how long he stood there, leaning against the shelves as he got reamed. He was shocked to learn it was almost midnight when he finally shot his load.
It was an intense and wild orgasm for Teddy, though Galeno was more subdued. Galeno moaned moistly into Teddy’s ear, licking his earlobe. That was enough to send Teddy over the edge at just the right moment for Galeno — who always preferred his men to cum just before Galeno did.
Teddy’s wad sprayed onto the shelf in front of him, making a puddle that sit in front of the trash bags. Galeno kept going, ramming his dick in and out as hard as he could now, since Teddy was wide-open enough to take it.
Creamy cum filled Teddy up, great gobs of it that seeped into his flesh. It was warm and sticky. He could feel it trickling through his body and slipping out into his asscrack.
“Ah, yes, Teddy…” Galeno moaned again. “You feel so sweetly…” He gasped and kissed the back of Teddy’s neck. He hadn’t expected this to feel so good.
But he often thought that after jacking off with men. It was just because they were different, he thought, they felt new and fresh. Plus the women who hired him mostly did so because they had trouble with men — they were too fat, too old, too tall, too stentorian, too mean, and Galeno was able to satisfy them. But feminine men like Teddy were perfectly fine.
So for Galeno, this was almost as intense an orgasm as for Teddy, and he drained a massive load deep into Teddy’s ass. Teddy groaned along with him, then they both fell silent. Galeno sucked on his teeth and kissed Teddy’s head again.
“Yes…” he said with a grunt. He pulled out and Teddy twitched, then fell limp. One final spasm of bliss coursed through both men, who both let out a final rumbling moan of desire.
Teddy giggled as he struggled to stand on weakened knees. He turned around and leaned against Galeno’s chest. He sucked some of the sweat off there. “Hmmm… You taste good, Galeno.”
Galeno nodded. “You have three minutes,” he said.
Teddy smiled and hugged him close. “I better make the best of it.” He looked up at Galeno. “You’re really good at what you do. Are all Brazilian men that good?”
Galeno sniffled and puffed out his chest. “All Brazilian men are better lovers, it is certain. They are better than any man. But I am better than them all.”
Warmth suffused Teddy as he hugged Galeno and smiled, rubbing his face against his chest and stroking his dick for three minutes. By the time he was done, Teddy was already thinking about going to Brazil.

The Raunchy Construction Worker

Rob happens upon a crude, catcalling construction worker, and that gives him an idea for his next rough trade target: the Italian macho Vic, who’s hairy and filthy and perfect for Rob. Can Rob handle Vic’s massive alpha male meat? Can he manage to embarrass the shameless stud?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“Hey, baby, I’ll lick ya pussy all night long, gurl! I won’t even make you suck me off at the same time, I lick ya pussy just for fun!” he squeezed his dick through the filthy jeans he wore, which had a giant rip that had been amateurly fixed with thread.
The girl scoffed and stormed away. She was pretty, clean, classy — like a lawyer, maybe, Rob thought. She was not the type to be seduced by a catcalling construction worker.
“I lick ya asshole then! That what you want? I lick wherever you want, baby, you just tell my tongue where to go!” He stuck his tongue out to demonstrate, and laughed with all his other worker buddies. When she was almost out of earshot, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Fucking prude!”
The construction worker was dark-haired and swarthy, Italian, probably, or pretending as much. He was muscular, thick-bodied and broad-shouldered like a highway overpass, hairy all over, drenched with sweat, wearing a wifebeater and an orange jacket, along with heavy black boots and a hardhat. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and every few seconds he switched it from one side of his mouth to the other.
Rob confidently walked into the construction site. The man was facing the other way down the street. He snorted at the sight of a fat girl walking past him. “I won’t hate on ya cuz you big, woman. That just means there is more of you to love. Fuckin’ you would be a long-term project! I wouldn’t kick ya outta bed, baby!” he called out.
“I was about to say the same thing to you,” Rob said. He flashed a limp wrist and a big smile.
The man turned to see him. He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “Whatchoo want, princess? This is a closed site. You lookin’ for a pansy?” He pointed to a tall, corpulently fat man, who sat on a piece of heavy machinery eating a sandwich. “That him? Russell. He’s our resident sissy, ain’t ya?!”
“Who you callin’ a sissy, man?”
The two screamed more insults and accusations back at each other. Rob couldn’t hear the other man’s words, but he did pick up that the man — the handsome, not fat one — in front of him was Vic. Vic frowned when he saw Rob still standing there.
“You ain’t allowed on the construction site, man. Whatchoo want?”
“You. I’ll give you five hundred dollars to ramrod me. Right here. Right now,” Rob said.
Vic chuckled a little. He looked down and up. His fellow workers were watching, and it looked to Rob like he really wished no one had seen him get propositioned. The other workers snickered.
“Do it, Vic!”
“Yeah, man. It’s like the opposite of prison! You outside instead of inside, you gettin’ paid fo’ it ‘stead of payin’ a fine, and you givin’ it ‘stead of takin’ it. Opposite of prison.”
Vic blushed, though it wasn’t obvious because his face was smudged with dirt, “Shut up, all you’s fuckers! Shut up ya mouths or I come over there and shut ‘em up!” He blushed an even brighter red. He grabbed his dick through his jeans and affected a cocky laugh. He looked at Rob again. “Seriously though, princess-“
“I’ll eat your ass! I’ll eat your ass with a spoon,” Rob said. One of the other workers burst into guffaws so powerful he fell to the ground. The rest of them howled, calling over men from elsewhere at the construction site. Some of the heavy machinery even stopped, which made the scene much quieter.
A sneer of disgust appeared on Vic’s face. He gagged. “Man, please! Have some self-respect, seriously?! You gonna eat my ass right now! I was gonna make that girl shower first, and she’s about a hundred times cleaner than me! Man, you are messed up if you think-“
“I want to gargle your cum! Please! I can deepthroat anything!” Rob said. He rammed his whole hand into his mouth to demonstrate.
“Nah, man! Nah, man! Nah, man!” Vic repeated it like he was broken. His eyes bugged out. He laughed too, and covered his belly with one hand. “Don’t make me see that, nah, don’t make me see that…”
“He swallowin’ his whole hand! He fistin’ his throat! You see that? Legendary!”
“Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! “
There were probably twenty men over there chanting for him to do it. Vic nodded and sighed. “Man… Six hundred bucks, okay? Man? I’ll do it for six hundred bucks.”
“Fine.”
“And you ain’t puttin’ nothing in my ass! No way!”
“Well… except my tongue.” Rob smirked.
That again prompted peals of laughter from the other workers. They clutched each other and bellowed. They were red-faced.
“You serious about that?” Vic cocked his head to the side. “You know I am sweaty as hell right now? I don’t even know… Man, do people do that?” He chuckled nervously.
“Is that a no?”
He looked shocked. “Oh, it’s a yes, man. For six hundred bucks, I will ran you and let you lick my ass. Hell, I’d let you lick my ass for free cuz no one ever did it before. I’s sayin’ it’s so gross it make me wanna throw up, but I ain’t gonna say no. You only gotta pay me for the cornholin’, you gotta pay for that.”
Rob dropped to his knees in front of Vic, who couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t laugh animatedly, but he didn’t stop even as he mumbled down at Rob. “Yo, man, this… You are, like… Man, you’s crazy, alright? I’m just… Man, princess and shit, man, I can’t even…”
“Whip it out, Vic!”
“C’mon, you always braggin’ ‘bout it! Let’s see it!”
“Woo-hoo!” They catcalled at him, making porno-movie sounds and whistling like they were at a strip club.
“Take it off, Victor!”
Vic ignored Rob. He faced the other workers and pumped his biceps. He kissed each one. “Man, fuck all you’s guys! I ain’t got nothin’ to be ashamed about!” He undid his fly and let a massive uncut cock flop out. “Bam! See? I got-“
He stopped boasting, and yelped because Rob came up behind him and kissed his bare shoulder. It tasted so salty it brought tears to Rob’s eyes, and there was a layer of gritty dirt atop it. Rob planted his mouth between Vic’s arm and his chest, trying to get to his fuzzy armpit.
“Yo, hey! What? Yo, what?! I can’t even, man, I can’t even… cope with that shit, what the fuck?!” Vic gasped. He slowly lifted one of his arms as though he had no idea it was possible to lick armpits, like he thought Rob might actually be going for his elbow or some other body part. He cackled when Rob dove in to his pits enthusiastically.
“You gettin’ horny, Vic?”
Vic’s face was bright red still, though he tried to cover up his insecurity by laughing and shouting insults at the other workers. His muscles were tense, and they didn’t relax the whole time.
“Yo, you fat-ass bitches are just jealous of my shit, man!” Vic scoffed. He smiled down at Rob. “Alright, princess, you really into pits? Or you just teasin’ me? Huh?”
“I love armpits,” Rob said. He smiled from Vic’s left armpit, whose sweat was smeared over Rob’s face. It was bitter and sharp, and the potent scent made Rob choke even as he swallowed all that he could. He sucked on each kinky black armpit hair, and he lapped at the flesh underneath. He did first the left, then the right armpit. Vic stood there and endured it, giggling like a boom-voiced, raspy-throated schoolboy.
Then Rob planted his lips on Vic’s chest. Vic stopped laughing now, looking down with a disgusted sneer. Rob moved his tongue up Vic’s hairy body, and as he did, he removed Vic’s torn white wifebeater without removing the orange safety vest. Vic looked perfect standing there, covering up his nervousness as his chest throbbed beneath the paper-thin orange vest.
“Yo, fairy, man, you know his chest is dirty as shit, right? He been rollin’ around in dirt! He got grease all ovuh him!”
“Hey fuck you, Russell!” Vic shouted with a deep belly laugh. Rob licked his greasy sweat soaked chest, muscles trembling as he shouted to be heard over the urban traffic not that far away. Vic lit another cigarette and shouted, “At least I ain’t had to have my boss tell me I gotta start showerin’ e’ry day!”
“That’s cuz he know it’s a lost cause wit’ you!”
“I’ll come ovuh there and show you a lost cause, man!” Vic shouted out, but the others laughed so loud they couldn’t hear him. They laughed because Rob started stroking Vic’s meat.
It was long and soft still. Vic didn’t even notice Rob’s hand on his cock because he was so focused on bellowing at the other workers. He dick was delightfully huge — Rob didn’t even hope it would be that big, no wonder he was full of pride, bravado and machismo. It throbbed hotly beneath Rob’s fingers, but it didn’t get hard.
It only perked up only when Vic suddenly jumped, realizing that Rob was on his cock now. He snorted and closed his eyes.
“Aw, man, god damn, ah fuck, man,” Vic said. He bit his lip. He shifted his weight between his feet. “Ah, damn, okay, sorry, man, I swear to God, man, I won’t catcall after no bitches no more, not ever again.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette. His cock twitched and began to firm up in Rob’s hand. Vic’s face was ultra-serious now. “Okay, no, not that. I won’t catcall after any bitches for a month, man, I swear to God. I learned my lesson.” He paused again and chuckled at himself. “I mean females. I won’t catcall after any females for a month.”
“Whatcha gonna spend that money on, Vic? You need a dress that show off ya armpits, that way you can pick up more johns.”
“Tell the dress salesgirl you an autumn, Vic.”
“I will come over there and kick your ass!” Vic shouted. He looked serious enough he might have actually done it — he took a few steps in that direction — but Rob’s hand on his cock kept him here.
Rob dropped to his knees. He kissed Vic on the cocktip. Vic howled and covered his face. Vic was so loud that Rob couldn’t hear the other men, who laughed and yelled jokes at Vic. Meanwhile Rob licked up and down his shaft.
It tasted dirty, of course, rather like his armpit but with a more musky and sweet flavor to it. The dirt here was more smooth, almost muddy — this wasn’t street dust that had collected on his bare skin, it was grime that had collected on his unwashed cock.
Rob could taste the entire day’s work in the filth that had collected on his dick. It was just sweat and a few bits of thread and debris from his pants, Rob knew that, but he felt like he could sense Vic’s entire day from the taste.
He could feel Vic waking up on a ratty mattress on the floor of a small apartment — his dick tasted a bit like one of those bachelor-pad mattresses, with sheets that got washed before girls came over and on no other occasions (he normally went to his girls’s places, so he wouldn’t have to clean up his own apartment). Vic’s sheets didn’t even fit his twin-sized mattress, they were queen-sized sheets.
His dick gradually got hard in Rob’s mouth. There was hesitance in his erection, as though every few seconds Vic realized he was in a man’s mouth and his cock reconsidered getting hard. Rob gurgled merrily on it regardless.
A man like Vic probably didn’t cook his own breakfast, Rob suspected. He might make himself a bowl of cereal, but probably not. He most likely went down to the street and got a egg-and-bacon sandwich from the Pakistani fellow at a nearby bodega. Vic definitely liked carbs — you could see that in the meaty thickness of his body and the plumpness of his asscheeks — he’d have been fat if he didn’t have a calorie-burning job — so he probably got an extra plain bun too, just to munch on while he walked to his jobsite.
Once his dick was hard, Vic crooned and moaned. He made sounds like he was seducing a girl, little kissy noises and sucking on his own teeth. Rob gurgled and made a mess over his face when he tasted precum. He wiped Vic’s fleshy shaft over his lips and nose, so a layer of salty precum coated his face.
“Man… Princess, that is nasty. That is nasty. That is nasty. Fo’ real, I can’t even deal wit’ that. You don’t get nothin’ outta that, man, nothin’. You got my precum all ovuh ya face. Whatcha-?”
“Can I lick your balls?”
He raised one eyebrow. “What? Yeah… I mean… I guess so.”
Rob had to pull his jeans down all the way. He had heavy low-hanging balls, which Rob adored. He could barely fit them both in his mouth, especially since Vic’s scrotum was so slick with sweat that Rob couldn’t get a good grip on them.
“Alright now, that is new, that is real new,” Vic said. He called out to the other workers. “Yo, Jammy-Jew! He doin’ it! He slurpin on mah balls! You’d like that shit! He ain’t gonna mace ya fo’ askin’!” The men laughed, teasing one of their own. Vic looked down at Rob. He ashed his cigarette, some of the ash particles landed on his crotch and adding a bitter charred flavor to his precum. “Jammy-Jew over there — don’t worry, he ain’t a Jew, his last name is Joo-En-Oi.” It sounded like he was trying to say something French. “That’s just what we calls him. Anyway, he that hairy one over there. He ask this girl to suck his balls once and she start yellin’ at him, ends up macing the motherfucker on ‘ccount of his balls is too nasty to even think about.” He threw his cigarette on the ground. “You serious ‘bout lickin’ asshole, princess?”
“Absolutely,” Rob said. His voice was moist and crackling from the ballsweat that coated his tongue.
Rob moaned with anticipation. He pulled off Vic’s balls and moved around to kneel behind him. He kissed each one of Vic’s hairy cheeks, which stank even worse than his balls. His flesh was cold and paler than the rest of his body, though it was still a light nut-brown. Plenty of thick black hairs extended up from his thighs.
“Okay, bend over and spread those cheeks-“
“Nah,” Vic said, and for the first time, there was no humor in his voice at all. He cleared his throat. “Don’t you nevuh tell me to bend over and spread ‘em again. I will kick yo’ ass for real. There ain’t enough money in the world to make me put myself in a bitch-position. Nah. Nah. No way, man. No way, princess. You might be royalty, but you ain’t my queen, no sir, no how, no way,” he said. He shook his head. “You can lick my asshole standing up.”
“Can you squat on my face?”
He looked like he might vomit. He sighed and shook his head, but he muttered yes. Rob got down on the ground and laid on his back.
Vic lowered his hairy ass onto Rob’s face. He squatted as though he was about to jump as high as he could, like a frog. Squatting like that spread his asscheeks, giving Rob easy access to his funky hole.
His tongue plunged in. Vic yelped and squirmed atop Rob’s face. He stuck his tongue straight up, and Vic’s movement meant Rob got to taste every inch of his insides.
Once again, Rob felt like he could sense everything about Vic through his body and the way his filth tasted on Rob’s tongue. Vic fancied himself a ladysman — that was why he catcalled after girls all the time — but he was a lot less successful than he let on. If he cleaned himself up and acted more charming, he’d have tremendous luck with the ladies, who would love his muscles, dimples and square jaw. But he didn’t have the personality for that, and he didn’t care enough to change, he was fine with fucking trashy, slutty girls. Vic would rather be the sexy stud whom all the fat girls want rather than the cute guy who has to work to charm pretty girls. At any given moment, Vic had a half-dozen or so girls he was seeing. He got a handjob at least, if not a blowjob, every night — if none of his females were available, he’d go to one of the whores in the alley behind his apartment. They only charged five bucks for a handjob, and they did it sweet as candy.
His asshole sweated and twinkled around Rob’s tongue. His nose nestled in the hair of Vic’s asscrack, which shook as he yelled back and forth at the other workers. Rob couldn’t hear their words because Vic’s hefty body muffled the sound. Sweat trickled in to Rob’s mouth, flowing constantly from the small of Vic’s back.
Eventually Rob pulled off. He was about to blow his own load, and he wanted to do it with Vic’s cock in his ass. Vic loved booty, so he was excited, especially when he saw that Rob kept his ass shaved.
“Nice and smooth, alright,” Vic said softly so no one but Rob could hear. “Nothin’ personal, man, sorry ‘bout this-” He called out to the other workers- “Man, it’s gross, man, it’s nasty as shit. He got hairy, sloppy butt-“
“You must be used to it, Vic! I seen the girls you date!”
“Yeah, you into lady-sasquatches, Victor! You got no room to complain.”
“Man, I fuck chicks you can’t even dream ‘bout, old man!” Vic called out. Then he spoke to Rob. “Alright, weirdo, I am into ass. This is the part I been lookin’ forward to.” The plump girls who lusted after Vic usually gave up the ass with just a little persuasion, so he had plenty of anal sex.
“Did you enjoy your first rimjob?” Rob asked, licking his lips.
Vic scrunched up his face. His cock throbbed right at the entrance to Rob’s ass. “Well, it felt good, yeah. But I ain’t enjoy it, no.”
Pain exploded in Rob’s body as Vic pushed his cock in. He made more kissy sounds and wrapped one arm around Rob’s neck, putting him in a loose chokehold. He stayed so close Rob could feel the buzzing of his chest hair against Rob’s back.
“You got a nice tight ass, princess,” he said. He gulped and threw his head back. “Nothin’ personal, I’m gonna tell all them you was loose as shit. I gots a rep to protect.”
“Uh-huh.” The pressure in Rob’s ass disappeared, replaced by a torrent of pleasure. Vic’s cock teased his prostate. Vic shoved it in harshly when he realized Rob wasn’t going to complain or fight back, and his meat sent waves of pleasure up Rob’s spine.
“Yo, he loose like a goose, man, I’m gonna have to work hard for my money!”
Vic shuddered, making his cock shift within Rob’s ass. Vic was used to girls having trouble taking his entire manhood, but he was relentless — that was why he made those soft kissy sounds the whole time; he was used to having to continually seduce girls, to remind them that he was sexier than they could normally get, that they had better not disappoint him or he’d stop fucking them. So he had that instinctual need to seduce Rob even as he plowed his ass hard and mercilessly.
“Damn, boy, damn,” Vic said, speaking softly into Rob’s ear. “I ain’t gonna nevuh admit this to no one but you, but you got a nice ass. You take dick like none other, man, I can’t even, uh-huh.” Vic cleared his throat and yelled at his friends. “I’m gonna nut, boys! Who wants to come clean this asshole up?! Huh? You guys hungry? You wanna eat my nut outta his ass? We got spoons in the truck, man!”
Then he closed his eyes and bit his lip. He moaned. He held Rob close against his chest. Rob jacked himself off — since he faced the other workers, they all groaned and turned away — and sprayed his wad all over the construction site ground.
Vic didn’t seem to notice that. He groaned and grunted into Rob’s ear. Then he exhaled slowly, blowing right on Rob’s cheek. Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, a great big wad of it that was followed by jet after jet of hot juices.
It was creamy and sticky, and it seeped into Rob’s body. He could feel it trickling to every part of him. It leaked out of his ass, into the tangled hair of Vic’s thighs. Vic kept on ramming, drilling his dick in even as he shot his load.
When his cock finally fell limp, Vic pulled out and let out a hoarse croak. His manhood flopped out. Vic looked down at it as though it had betrayed him.
Vic sighed. He rolled his eyes. “Alright, pay up.”
But Rob ignored him. He turned around and removed some napkins from his pants pocket. He gingerly cleaned off Vic’s dick. Vic scoffed but allowed him to do so. Then Rob licked the sweat off his nipples.
“‘Kay, princess, you got ya taste. You got what you paid for.”
“Make a bicep, please! I wanna lick your bicep!” Rob said, loud enough for the other workers to notice the ramrodding was done. They resumed catcalling.
“Make out wit’ him, Vic! Give him his money’s worth!”
“You get him pregnant, Vic? You best pay for the abortion!”
Vic shook his head and scowled. He pumped his right arm. Rob licked the muddy sweat off his curvy arm, which flexed beneath his tongue. Vic laughed like he was ticklish, and Rob slurped up and down his powerful arms.
“C’mon, princess, or uh… Mister whoever. I did my part,” he said. He was plaintive now, like it had only just now occurred to him that Rob might not pay.
But Rob did pay. He handed over six hundred dollars in cash. Vic breathed a sigh of relief, took the cash and pulled his jeans up. He put his filthy t-shirt back on.
“Alright, princess you better go. You ain’t really allowed in here,” Vic said. “And our boss is gonna be here soon.”
Rob nodded. “Thanks, Vic.” He backed away towards the street, slowly, and as he did he yelled at the top of his lungs. The workers — and a few people on the street — listened and laughed, while Vic turned bright red once more. “Thanks for cornholin’ me for money, Victor! You have a nice cock! You should stick it in a girl who ain’t a fat trashy slut sometimes! Thanks for lettin’ me eat your asshole too! Your balls taste like cheese, Vic, and I loved ‘em!”
By that point, a crowd had gathered, laughing and pointing at Vic’s bright red face, too loud for Rob’s catcalling to be heard anymore. Vic chortled and shook, like he was about to either laugh or cry — or both — so hard he shattered. He glared at Rob, who just smiled, gave a little limp-wristed wave and darted off down the street.

The Warehouseman

Rob thought he was in for a boring day when he runs into a studly young black man in a warehouse. He needs money for court fees, and Rob needs his throbbing fat meat! Can they reach a mutually agreeable deal?

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Rob Winthrop was bored. He felt like crying as he sat there and endured the world’s most hideous presentation. It was so boring it hurt. He couldn’t even think of anything exciting to do, like this presentation was so boring it made other things less exciting through contagion, like it crowded out the part of Rob’s brain that could experience excitement.
What was an exciting thing? Planes… Explosions… Movies? The only movie Rob could remember was Nanook of the North, which he had watched in film class. And that Andy Warhol movie that was just a twelve-hour video of a skyscraper.
Excitement was a real thing, wasn’t it? Rob felt like prying his eyelids off.
It was a presentation about the relative popularity of the costs of implementing various water purification strategies in certain parts of rural Colorado. The presenter was a dour-faced black woman who was probably chosen as a presenter because she was beautiful and they thought Rob would be interested.
Rob didn’t care about her. He only came here because he wanted to humiliate his father yet again. But there were no good opportunities. He could just rip all his clothes off in the middle of the meeting — that would certainly add some excitement — but he’d done that before. People just assumed he had a psychotic break or an alcohol problem, something like that. Rob was a billionaire’s son, so everyone found it easy to believe there was something wrong with him.
No, if he was going to humiliate his father today, it would have to be something else. His father periodically set him up with companies to manage, in hopes of pushing him towards a more responsible future.
But Rob hated his father with a fiery passion, so he always ran those companies into the ground (or just ignored them). Toqay he was in Colorado, taking control of a county government services company. Rob was supposed to help them expand into state and federal government contracts. It was the single most boring goal anybody has ever had.
A woman came into the meeting. She meekly apologized for interrupting it. She needed the CEO, to sign something, which he did with a scowl like he was annoyed, not at being interrupted, but at the thing he needed to sign.
“Another one? Tell him to keep it in his pants, for Ch-f-sh…” It sounded like he was going to say for Christ’s sake, then for fuck’s sake, then for shit’s shake but didn’t want to curse because Rob was here, so he just stammered and said nothing. “He’s going to be a slave sooner or later.”
Then he suddenly blushed intensely. He coughed like he hadn’t meant to say that. He glanced at the presenter, the only black person in the room. She was on the other side of the conference table so it didn’t seem that she heard what he said.
Rob’s eyes opened. This, he thought, was a thing. He didn’t know what, but there was clearly something happening here.
He excused himself and made his way out after the woman, who hurried towards the door marked Human Resources at the end of the hall. She glanced at Rob. “The bathrooms are down that way, sir-“
“That’s not why I came out,” Rob said. He glanced at the clipboard. “Is that…?”
The human resources lady did not know that Rob was not a businessman. She assumed he was given this company because he wanted to and knew how to run it. So she assumed that he asked to see the paperwork because it was relevant to his business, which indeed it was. That simply wasn’t why Rob wanted to see it.
It was a court order, demanding that the company garnish the wages of Jaekwan Malcolm Brown. One hundred and seventy-eight dollars were to be taken from his paychecks and sent to a child-support-payments processing company.
“It’s just a garnishment order, sir,” she said. She blushed. “It’s okay, we know how to do it. Mr. Brown has… other garnishments on his file.”
Rob made a serious face like his father would have. “Well, ma’am,” he said, “I’m going to have to investigate this. Where do I find Mr. Brown?”
“He works in the warehouse,” she said. She watched him walk away like she was nervous, like she was supposed to stop him — which was technically true, since human resources matters were supposed to be confidential. But Rob didn’t care. The more rules he broke, the more embarrassed his father would be, and then Rob wouldn’t have to run any more companies into the ground for awhile.
He went down to the warehouse on the first floor. About twenty guys worked there shipping and receiving supplies. A huge part of the warehouse was filled with blue recycling bins.
The warehouse guys didn’t know who Rob was, and he didn’t really carry himself like an executive, so they didn’t react to him. He asked where Jaekwan was and they said only that he was around here somewhere.
Rob eventually found him among the stacks of blue recycling bins. He didn’t know that’s who it was at first. That’s because he didn’t see him right away. He heard him first.
It sounded like someone trying to lift something heavy. There was the sound of a woman there too. Rob smiled when he realized it was the sound of sex.
It was him. Jaekwan wore the blue pants and polo shirt of the warehouse workers, but he had pulled the pants down and lifted the shirt over his head. He had a tight grip on a thick woman’s hair as he pounded into her.
She was the married receptionist at the pool services company next door. She was thick and not especially attractive.
Jaekwan, however, was perfect. He was young and tall and ropy-muscled, not exactly thick but not skinny by any means. He had cornrows and deep, dark skin inked with blueish tattoos. His face was noble and square and big and expressive, and Rob wanted to gaze into his eyes. He wasn’t sexy or even really handsome, or at least not especially handsome, but he had swagger to spare, and Rob was sure Jaekwon could get any woman he wanted. Presumably that was exactly what he did, hence the garnishments on his paychecks. He let out a growl as he filled the woman’s pussy with his seed. Rob watched cum drip down onto the floor.
“Damn, girl, you treat me right,” he said. He grinned, showing off his deep dimples. His massive dick flopped out of her body limply. She blushed and whispered something to him. Jaekwan bent over and kissed her on the forehead. “Nah, baby, I can’t kiss you on the lips. You sucked my dick earlier. That’s nasty.”
“Jaekwan! I’m leaving my husband for you!” She looked down at her feet as she pulled her panties up.
“Don’t. I tol’ you not to, baby,” he said. He already had his phone out and was texting someone, his pants still around his ankles, fat cock bobbing around and dripping a few remnants of cum and pussyjuice onto the warehouse floor.
“Come on…”
“No.” He pulled his pants up and scowled at her. “That ain’t the kinda nigga I am. You best get back to yo’ office, baby.” He walked away with a noticeable pimp lean. He didn’t pull his shirt back down, so his sweat-dappled chest was bare. Rob had a feeling he did that because it would imply to his fellow workers that he had had sex among the stacks of recycling bins.
Sure enough, he heard their deep-throated greetings, slapping hands and macho boasting. It all erupted at once so he couldn’t hear exactly what was said, but the meaning was clear. They must have known he was here fucking a woman.
Rob tried to make his way back to the main part of the warehouse without being seen, but he made slow progress. He heard Jaekwan become upset about something. He shouted curses about lawyers and judges, which Rob took to mean he found out his paycheck had been garnished yet again.
Soon the warehouse guys filtered out. Rob’s cell phone blew up with text messages from the executives upstairs — they didn’t know where he went, and they needed him to make a decision on some issue that bored Rob so much he couldn’t possibly choose. So he turned his cell phone off.
Jaekwan worked later than the others because it was his turn to clean up. That meant he had to sweep and double-check that all of the heavy machinery was turned off and unplugged, so he was to leave some half an hour after the others. He was supposed to verify that the office was empty, lock the warehouse door and close the gate too.
That gave Rob an idea. He went around Jaekwan — who swept with earbuds in, so it was easy to sneak around him — and went upstairs. He wrote Hey Jaekwan, you wanna make a thousand dollars by demolishing some ass? on a whiteboard, with an arrow pointing into the CEO’s office.
Rob went in there and bent over with his bare ass high in the air. He covered himself in lube.
Finally he heard Jaekwan come upstairs. He opened the door from the stairwell and called out, “Hey! Any motherfucker here?” He sounded angry.
Rob paused, waiting for him to come in here. He was supposed to check that no one was in the office. The company’s insurance required him to look in each room.
But he didn’t. Rob hadn’t even considered the possibility that Jaekwan might not actually do it. Rob hurried out into the hall once he heard the doors slam shut.
Am I gonna be locked in?
He made his way to the stairwell. Jaekwan was down on the first floor. “Hey Jaekwan! Hey!” But his earbuds were still in. Jaekwan danced as he went down the steps, murmuring along with the song. He had a bitter, angry look because he was still mad about the garnishment order. He was pretty sure that kid wasn’t his anyway.
Rob made it into the warehouse behind Jaekwan. He shouted and even knocked over a recycling bin to try to get his attention. Jaekwan opened the bay doors. He stood there waiting for them to open.
Then he stepped out and pushed the button to close them. He only turned around and saw Rob sprinting through the warehouse towards him as the bay door slid shut in front of him.
“Hey!”
“Yo! Hey! Was someone in there?!”
There was a moment’s silence. Rob kept running even as the lights flicked off. He was plunged into pitch-blackness and collided face-first into the bay door just as it began raising once again. Pain exploded in his nose. “Ow, fuck!”
“Hello? Mister? Who in there?” Jaekwan sneered when the door opened. He took the earbuds out of his ear.
Rob was out of breath. “Hey. Sorry. Hey. I’m… I’m Rob.”
“Rob? Do you work here?”
“Sorta… I… own… it.”
“You own it? Own what?”
Rob gestured all around him. “This.”
It looked like Jaekwan either didn’t understand or didn’t believe him. He scowled. “What?”
“I own this place. I’m Rob Winthrop.”
“Oh.” His eyes lit up. “Oh! You’re that guy?!”
“Yeah. That’s me.”
He paused, then forced a smile on his face. “Yo. Uh, hey! Hey… Nice to meet’cha, sir.” He shook Rob’s hand.
“Don’t…” Rob wanted to tell him not to be so polite, to not treat him like a boss. But he was still out of breath. It had been exciting, he thought, after a day of boring work, he had had to race or be locked in overnight.
“Don’t what?”
“Sorry, uh…” Rob said. He leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath. “We’re not at work anymore. You don’t have to call me sir. I mean, you can call me Rob even at work, but now you should really call me Rob.” He took a deep breath.
“Oh. Okay, Rob. I’m Jaekwan.” He grinned. “Sorry I was in a bad mood before. I, uh… I’m kinda upset-“
“I know. I heard. You got your wages garnished.”
He nodded. “Man, I can’t get ahead. It ain’t fair. Court fees got me down. Costs so damn much…” He paused and spat on the ground. “You alright? You fall asleep in there or what?”
“No, not that,” Rob said. He took a deep breath. “I wrote something upstairs — we should…” He chuckled. “Nevermind. It’ll be a surprise tomorrow.” He paused. “I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Me?”
“I would be willing to help you with your court fees and child support,” Rob said. “But you gotta do something for me.”
“Hmm?”
“Cornhole me.”
His eyes opened wide. “What?”
“I want you to cornhole me. I’ll get you hard-“
“Okay.” He paused. Then he paused and bristled. He looked around, shutting the bay door behind himself. “I mean… how much? I don’t do that shit. You gotta pay-“
“Jaekwan, it would be more effective if you negotiated before you said okay.”
“I ain’t mean to say okay. I was…” He smiled like he had been caught in a lie. “You gotta pay a lot. I don’t do this. It’s, y’know… You gotta pay me a lotta money. Twenty grand.”
Rob choked. “Shit, are you serious?”
“Twenty grand.”
“Jaekwan…”
“What, man?!”
“I’m not paying you twenty grand.”
“Why not? I got good nigga dick!” He grabbed his cock through his crotch and snorted. “Bam!”
“That’s not happening, Jaekwan. I’m not paying twenty grand,” Rob said. “I was gonna offer two hundred dollars.”
“Man…” He sucked on his teeth. “Five hundred dollars.”
“Fine.” Rob shook his hand and giggled. “Did you really think I was gonna pay twenty grand?”
He opened the door to the warehouse and led Rob in. “Man, you should pay that. I’m good, man. I swear. I can stick you so good-“
“There is no way you do it twenty grand good. Unless your jizz is Apple stock, it can’t be that valuable.”
He sniffled. He stepped into the warehouse, leaned against a wall and lifted his shirt over his head again. “I’m worth twenty grand, man.”
“Well, prove it,” Rob said as he dropped to his knees.
He unzipped his jeans and let a thick black cock flop out over Rob’s face. He laughed and slapped Rob on the cheek with it. “You like nigga dick, huh?”
Rob blushed and nodded. That wasn’t exactly true — Rob loved all kinds of men. One funny thing about them was that they always assumed he had a fetish for their type. He didn’t have a special love for black guys, but whenever he jerked one off, they assumed he had a black-men fetish. Whenever he jerked off a Texan, they thought he had a fetish for Texans. When he jerked off plumbers or Mexicans or stuntmen or bus drivers or Native Americans, they always assumed he had sought them out for their identity. He didn’t bother to explain that because he knew from personal experience that Jaekwan would just think he was lying anyway.
“Uh-huh…” Rob licked his dick from tip to root. It twitched and got hard in his hand. He kept licking, not putting it in his mouth, just licking it, until it was fully hard and throbbing where it lay against his face.
“Why don’t white boys offer money more? Huh?”
Rob went right to throating it. He didn’t really understand what Jaekwan was asking, and Rob was too focused on his cock to consider it. He slurped up all the day’s sweat off Jaekwan’s dick, while his hands roamed up to Jaekwan’s perfectly flat belly.
“Huh? Man?” He grabbed Rob by the ears and pulled him off his dick. “What’choo think? My daddy always said-“
“Lemme get-” Rob stuck his tongue out. He managed to tease the tip of Jaekwan’s dick, but Jaekwan wouldn’t let him go back to it. Rob pushed against his hand with his tongue out. Jaekwan’s dick, which still stank of that fat girl’s pussy, throbbed half-hard, tantalizingly close to Rob’s face.
“My daddy used to say that you could get white boys to pay you for dick, to make they dick better. Like if’n you swallow some big nigga dick, it make yo’ dick bigger. He say he got this white man who pay a thousand dollars to jack ‘im off. He got all these rules-“
“C’mon…” Rob managed to break free and taste his dick for a few seconds, his mouth plunging deep on Jaekwan’s shaft, but Jaekwan pulled him off without missing a beat.
“He got rules, like you can go behind a swanky nightclub and they’s always gonna be there, givin’ cats dome. But I done that and ain’t no one there but some swishy sissy passed out cold. Ain’t even have no money in his wallet.” He paused. “Well, answer it, man.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “You didn’t ask a question.” He really wanted to get back to Jaekwan’s dick. He had one hand on the base, stroking it slowly, hoping to get Jaekwan hard enough he’d get on with it.
He furrowed his brow. “What up with that?”
“That’s… I don’t know, uh… I mean… Your dad, uh… sounds like he’s full of shit.”
He threw his hands in the air. “I know, right?!”
“Maybe it used to be true. Maybe when he was growing up, there were guys offering money behind a nightclub. That’s not, like, a tradition though,” Rob said. “Can I get back to your dick now?”
“Yeah, man, go for it.” He wrinkled his nose like he hadn’t made Rob stop. He moaned as Rob immediately throated him deeply. He leaned against the wall. “Shit, man…” He paused. “We should set up some regular thing, man. Like… I can come over, and you can pay me-“
“No.” Rob smiled. “Sorry. I don’t do that.”
“Man-“
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What?”
“Do you have a serious girlfriend?” Rob stroked his dick and teased it, tracing the veins that ran up and down the shaft with his tongue.
Jaekwan scoffed. “Nah. I don’t do that. I got bitches I fuck wit’.”
“Well, I have similar arrangements,” Rob said. He thwacked Jaekwan’s cock around his face. “I’m not going to be sticking around here. I’ll call you up when I’m in the area.”
“Like a bootycall?”
“If you like.”
He frowned. He watched his dick disappear down Rob’s throat. “Yo, man, you prolly know lots of rich people, right?” Rob nodded without taking his dick out of his throat. “You should give ‘em my number. Tell ‘em I got good nigga dick. Tell ‘em five hundred dollars but I can negotiate. No, wait, tell ‘em I don’t negotiate, but like… hint that I might. But don’t hint toward any rich ones. You know rich folk? Don’t give ‘em an amount. I’ll say-“
“Jaekwan, shush,” Rob said. He slurped up the precum starting to leak out of Jaekwan’s piss-slit, despite the fact that Jaekwan was seemingly not paying attention to what Rob was doing.
“Man…” Jaekwan sucked on his teeth.
“I don’t know any one who would pay you-“
“You know girls who pay for sex? I’ll be a gigolo. I’ll fuck fat chicks, no problem. Old chicks too, I don’t care. I’ll do it. Hundred bucks. Plus expenses, if they want me to take ‘em out to dinner or somethin’.” He beamed like this was an act of charity he should be commended for. “I eat pussy real good too. See?”
Rob sighed. He kept stroking Jaekwan’s dick with one hand, while Jaekwan pulled out his cell phone. He played a video for Rob, showing Jaekwan eating some woman’s pussy. Jaekwan was holding the camera as it recorded and as he licked her vagina, so it was a blurry, poorly-shot video. It was held so close it looked like some alien creature gave birth to a full-grown man but his tongue got stuck.
“See? Look, man, I eat pussy so good.”
Rob rolled his eyes. “Jaekwan, quit it. I don’t know any women who will pay you for sex.”
“I’ll give ‘em the first time for free,” he said. Rob just ignored him though. Rob decided to move on. He turned around, dropped his pants and bent over. He stuck his ass high in the air. Jaekwan’s voice trailed off as he looked at Rob’s tight bottom. “Shit…”
“You ready?”
He wedged his thick dick between Rob’s cheeks. There was a moment of merciful silence, which seemed spookily sepulchral in the high-ceilinged warehouse. The tip of his dick slid in, and Rob grunted.
“Oh!” Jaekwan slapped Rob’s asscheek. “I got an idea. You like nigga dick, right? I know all kinda niggas. You gimme a hundred bucks per nigga, I can send you like a million of ‘em. You gonna be drownin’ in nut-“
“Jaekwan, stop-“
“I could send you like twenty of ‘em tonight. Like all them warehouse dudes-“
“I don’t have a black-guy fetish.”
“What?”
“I won’t just mess with any black guy,” Rob said, panting cuz of the pressure in his ass. “I think you are desirable. You, personally. None of the other warehouse guys.”
He looked taken aback, like he hadn’t thought Rob was capable of showing discretion. He stood there with just the first half-an-inch of his dick in Rob’s ass. “Oh. Well, what kinda black guys you like? I can send you ‘em. You want big dicks? I’ll measure dicks, I don’t care. I can do that. Shit, us warehouse niggas all gangbanged this chick last year. I saw most of they dicks then, and Jerome Nicklebee accidentally shot most of his nut on my shoulder-“
“I don’t like them!” Rob shouted. “C’mon, Jaekwan, you gotta cornhole me. I don’t like the other warehouse guys.”
“Not even Malik Jumper? He got a six-pack, swear to God-“
“No!” Rob had no idea if he had seen Malik before, but he didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
Jaekwan grumbled. “Man… you ain’t nice. I know all kinda niggas.” He drilled his dick in a little deeper. “I can hook you up wit’ any nigga you want. We can go drivin’, you pick someone out, on Center Street, there’s always tons of niggas there, most of ‘em shirtless in summertime. I don’t know ‘em all, but you gimme two hundred bucks, I’ll find ‘em. Don’t tell them how much you payin’ me, cuz I’ll only give them fifty bucks-“
“Jaekwan, stop it. I’m not giving you any money for anything besides cornholing me right now. That means you gotta stop talking about other stuff. You gotta focus on cornholing me. You gotta earn your money.”
Jaekwan let out an annoyed growl. “Fine.” He pumped his hips, gradually shoving more of his dick in. At first it hurt — he was in a bad mood and didn’t try to make it feel good, then he remembered he was being paid and he made long, slow, smooth motions with his hips. “That feel good, baby?” His voice was seductive, like he was talking to a girl.
“Hmm… Yeah…” Rob backed his ass up until he felt Jaekwan’s pubic hair and crotch on his ass. He moaned, which made Jaekwan laugh like a cocky bastard.
Jaekwan wrapped one arm around Rob’s face. His father had told him that you should put men in a chokehold when you cornhole them, so that was what he did. It was gross because he was so sweaty — the air conditioning was off, so it was getting hot in the warehouse — but Jaekwan didn’t mind the sweat.
He went down to the ground with Rob. His shirt was over his head, his pants around his ankles. Jaekwan pounded away at Rob’s ass, his bare chest pressing down on Rob’s back.
He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Rob. “Hey. Do you smoke weed? You want weed? I can get you great weed. Or coke. Or Ecstasy, man, I do it all. You want pills? I can get fent, or-“
“No,” Rob said through gritted teeth.
“Damn it… I thought rich guys did lots of drugs.”
“Jaekwan. If you’re going to cornhole me, please focus on cornholing me,” Rob said. He grunted. The pressure in his ass was intense. It felt good too, but it was hard to have a conversation right now. He was ensconced in Jaekwan’s powerful arms.
“Oh. Yeah.” He sounded like he had forgotten his dick was in Rob’s ass. He slammed all the way in and out, grinding his cock deeply into Rob’s tight hole. “Shit, you got a nice ass…”
“You have an amazing cock…” Rob said.
“I know! You should pay me more, man, that’s what-“
“Shut up,” Rob said through gritted teeth.
Jaekwan sighed and kept going. He grumbled to himself as he went, and he tightened his grip on Rob’s arm. The one nice thing about sticking men, he thought, was that they didn’t complain about going at them too hard. A girl would have made him slow down by now.
He was about to ask if Rob needed any work done on his car — Jaekwan was a pretty good mechanic — when an orgasm erupted deep within him. Jaekwan slapped Rob’s ass and pounded him into the ground. He didn’t even notice Rob shoot his own load all over the concrete floor.
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass. Jaekwan, even though he had just fucked a couple hours ago, shot a massive wad of cum. It just kept flowing, filling Rob’s ass up, until hot, creamy cum seeped into every corner of his flesh.
“Goddamn…” Jaekwan said. He took a deep breath. Aftershocks of his orgasm ran through him. “Yo, man… You got a car?”
Rob heard his question but was too overwhelmed by his own climax to answer. He just shuddered and moaned. Gradually Jaekwan pulled out of his ass, asking the same question again and again. One final long flow of jizz seeped into Rob’s guts, and Rob sighed as aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body.
“You got a car, man? Huh? I can fix it. I can do anything, man, swear to God. I’m good with cars,” he said. He pulled out and Rob sighed. Jaekwan stayed on top of him, his dick leaking a few more drops of cum onto Rob’s asscheeks. He whispered into Rob’s ear. “Huh? How’s your car?”
“It’s fine. I don’t need any work,” Rob said. Then he smiled. “I’ll give you an extra hundred bucks if you kiss me. With tongue.”
Jaekwan made a face like he would never do that. But then, without another word, he turned his head to the side and kissed Rob right on the lips. His tongue plunged in. It was rather awkward and unpracticed. Jaekwan felt a few stray mustache hairs on Rob’s mostly smooth face, and that made it difficult for Jaekwan to forget he was with a man. The kiss reawakened the sparks of bliss from Jaekwan’s cock, and Rob’s whole body twisted as intense sensations roiled his petite frame.
Finally he was done. Jaekwan sniffled like it was no big deal. He got up and wiped his dick off. “You best pay me, man.”
Rob nodded. He got out his smartphone and arranged a direct transfer into Jaekwan’s bank account.
“Hey, you like Mexicans? I can hook you up with this cholo I know. He’ll rob you, so don’t bring no cash. But he’ll cornhole you first,” Jaekwan said as Rob got dressed. “I’ll tell him not to beat you up. I know buncha Mexicans. Most of ‘em got tiny dicks though.”
Rob ignored him. He just went to his car. There were only two cars in the parking lot, so it was obvious which one was Jaekwan’s. Jaekwan frowned at him.
“Come on, man. He’s great, you’ll like him,” Jaekwan said. “Hey. You think about it. Call me, man.”
“See you later, Jaekwan.” Rob got in his car.
“Yeah! You can lick my asshole!” Jaekwan called out as Rob pulled away. “Uh… Six hundred dollars.” He saw Rob laughing through the driver’s side window, so Jaekwan thought he had guessed wrong. “Twenty bucks!” The last thing he did was pull his sagging jeans down and display his bare brown ass for Rob in the rear-view mirror.
Rob watched his ass get smaller as he drove away. He giggled. He didn’t normally mess around with guys more than once, but Jaekwan was very alluring. He couldn’t resist.
He might wait to run this company into the ground until he had gotten everything he could out of Jaekwan.

The Fat Jock Bottoms

A lot of rugby jocks are six-packed hunks with perfect physiques… Orson Gammond is not one of them. He’s desperate for a woman to pay attention to him, so when some cheerleaders dare him to let their twinky buddy ride him like a pony, Orson is eager to agree!

But can Orson bend over and take it long enough to put on a good show for the ladies he craves?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

The cheerleading squad consisted of fourteen girls and Bart Dazzle — he was the only man on the squad. They were best friends, and Bart spent all his time with them. Bart always felt more comfortable with women, but he did appreciate the male form. The cheerleaders attracted some pretty appealing exemplars of the male physique, and they got Bart invited to all the coolest parties and get-togethers at Goldendale Hills University.
At first Bart enjoyed watching the cheerleaders take turns sucking off Raython, the football player, but soon it became old hat. He watched them take turns “reverse-gangbanging” the captains of the football team, and then the captains of the basketball, rugby and soccer teams. Not every cheerleader participated, but most of them did. They thought it was hilarious, which Bart had to admit it kind of was. But it was hot too. Bart enjoyed watching sex more than joining in.
One of the few players they didn’t think was sexy was Orson Gammond. He was a prop on the GHU rugby team, and like most props, he was huge. He wasn’t fat, but he hardly had a perfect body either. He was one of those men who was too muscular to have a six-pack. His belly jutted out with the sheer power of his oversized frame. He was goofy, with a big round face, a perpetually uncombed shock of thick black hair, and an awkward sprinkling of tufts of hair over his strapping chest. He had an ass that just didn’t quit — too plump to be a “bubble-butt” but plenty round and thick and inviting. Bart just wanted to spend hours covering it in whipped cream and licking it clean.
At a giggley late-night drinking session on Saturday, Bart and the girls had rated the members of the rugby team. The discrepancy over Orson’s ranking was tremendous — Bart rated him highly, while the girls uniformly put him on the bottom of the list.
That was what had sparked the girls to come up with this plan, which Bart had raced to agree to.
“Hey, so we’re having a sauna, Orson, and you can come in if you want…” said Lisa Anne, poking her head out of the sauna and into the locker room. The other cheerleaders giggled behind her.
Orson’s eyes opened wide. Everyone else in the locker room fell silent. They usually did when one of the girls came in. Orson had never been invited into the sauna with the cheerleaders before.
He grinned like a goofy bastard, and he even did a little dance there in front of Lisa Anne before going into the sauna. That made his jockstrap bounce and his pecs shake. Lisa Anne squealed because of his big caveman-like face leering at her. She blushed.
“Hell yeah, are you gonna jerk Orson off? Hey!”
“Can I come too?”
The other players were both surprised and annoyed that they didn’t get to come. The cheerleaders usually only took one player into the sauna at a time — reverse-gangbanging jocks was a cheerleading tradition here at GHU. Bart had come in and watched a few times, and he got to very briefly taste Raython Lake’s cock once. He had thought Raython wanted some dome from him as he ate cheerleader pussy, but it turned out Raython wanted a blowjob and simply hadn’t noticed who was on his cock at the time.
The sex was exaggerated though. It was more of a prank than anything else. Usually the entire cheerleader squad would bring one player in, and they’d tease him, dancing, laughing, maybe give him a massage and a lapdance, and then either suck his dick or fuck him. Sometimes they’d all do it. They’d usually all pretend to join in — at least touching him — so they could say it was an orgy. But Bart had never seen any man have actual sex with more than two girls in the sauna. Usually they’d make a big deal out of it, but then only the sluttiest girls on the squad did anything, while the rest giggled and teased. The athletes at GHU were usually too testosterone-charged to fuck a dozen girls before cumming.
He had also never seen Orson in there.
Orson was so huge — nearly seven feet tall — that he seemed to fill up the sauna. As soon as he strode in, the girls all fell silent. Orson blushed. He had a big dick that barely fit in his dingy jockstrap. His body heat turned the sauna even warmer.
“Hi, uh, girls.” Orson chuckled, his deep voice resonating in the wooden-ceilinged sauna. He blushed deeper every time he caught a glimpse of a naked girl through the steam.
“Hi, Orson…” said Lisa Anne, who grinned at him. “So… don’t get too excited, we didn’t invite you here because we want to fuck you.”
They all laughed because Orson looked crestfallen. Bart felt bad for him and got up. He wrapped one hand around Orson’s waist, hugging him close. “Oh, you poor baby…”
“Man…” Orson lifted his nose. “Why’d you invite me in here then?” He completely ignored Bart, who nuzzled his belly and even touched his asscheeks. Bart’s delicate arms reached all the way around Orson’s wideness, and Bart nuzzled the sweat-dappled flesh of his torso.
“Oh, sorry, sweetheart… you’re so nice, baby…”
“We just love you so much, Orson!”
“You’re so cool! Really, so so cool!” The cheerleaders squealed and cooed. Their tits jiggled, which was what Orson’s eyes followed.
Only then did Bart tweak Orson’s nipples, which finally got his attention. Orson looked at Bart’s petite body wrapped around him, as Bart licked a trail down his belly.
Orson frowned. That frown turned into a scowl, though he didn’t seem annoyed by Bart touching him. It seemed like he scowled just because that was what he thought guys should do, or maybe he thought he needed to in order to communicate that he wanted to mess with the girls in here, not Bart. Or maybe he was just a scowler.
In any case, his dick was hard. His belly was in the way, so the girls didn’t see, but Bart could tell. Orson might not have even realized he was hard. His eyes were hypnotized by the enchanting jiggle of their tits.
Lisa Anne touched Orson right on the navel, and she giggled — all the girls were giggling, that was their natural state — but Lisa Anne’s giggles intensified when she touched Orson’s belly. His bellyfat jiggled like her tits. Lisa Anne didn’t touch men with bellyfat. Her last boyfriend was Raython the football player, who had a six-pack like a movie star. She had never dated a man who didn’t have a six-pack, and Orson had never even seen his ribcage.
Bart could feel his ribcage though. Orson watched her finger explore up his body to his powerful chest. Orson’s muscles rippled under his torso fat when Lisa Anne traced her finger back down his belly, then scampered away like a Japanese photographer before Godzilla. Orson wasn’t touched by girls often, so that made him shudder and shake.
“So, we didn’t invite you in here so we could fuck you,” Lisa Anne said. The girls all laughed. Orson — who had a reputation as a dummy — just stared at her blankly. Lisa Anne patted him on the side. “I would like to propose a trade. You get to do whatever you want with someone on this squad, and then someone on this squad gets to do whatever they want with you.”
“Okay.” His baritone voice rumbled. He blurted out his answer without taking any time to think. It was obvious he hadn’t figured out where this was going.
Lisa Anne giggled. “I didn’t tell you who yet.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care, you’re all beautiful.” He blushed again as they all oohed and aahed at him. He wiggled his body and even covered up his jockstrap as he felt momentarily vulnerable. He seemed to have forgotten it was Bart stroking his asscheeks and his muscled thighs. Bart slurped up the sweat clinging to his flesh.
“Thank you so much, sweetie,” Lisa Anne said. She blushed too. She wasn’t usually this forward with men, but it was obvious Orson wouldn’t catch anything that wasn’t made very explicit. Lisa Anne cleared her throat. “Okay, you have to let Bart here ram you up the ass. And then we’ll-“
Orson looked down at Bart, who still clutched his torso. It took a moment to sink in, then Orson grunted and stepped away. It looked like he might leave the sauna. He covered his jockstrap with both hands, as though he just now noticed he was naked in front of a gaggle of girls plus Bart.
“What? He ain’t a girl.”
Lisa Anne and the other cheerleaders giggled. “Well, yeah, we know that. We just think it’d be so hot, baby. We wanna watch-“
Orson jumped between his feet a couple times. He was too nervous to stand still. He cleared his throat. “Yo, girls, come on… Come on…”
“You can say no, Orson.”
“Yeah, we’ll just mess with each other instead. We can have an all-girls day, y’know, if you don’t want to do anything…”
“Ooh, we should do that while Orson gets it up the ass! That way he’ll have something to watch!” Lisa Anne squealed, and the other cheerleaders all agreed that that was a good idea. They sometimes made out or even ate each other’s pussies for the benefit of the players, so that part wasn’t so strange for them.
They all reacted as though that settled it, and Orson had said yes. He hadn’t, but he hadn’t left either. A part of him knew he was going to do it even as he tried to bargain with the girls.
“How about I let him just jerk me off or whatever? That’s not too weird.” Orson’s big round cheeks were red as cherries.
“We’ve seen that, baby. We’ve seen Bart jerk off all kinds of guys,” Lisa Anne said. That made Bart giggle — it was true, they, or at least a couple of them, had done that before. Men would do anything Lisa Anne said. “Besides, he can’t bottom all the time-“
“He’s a bottom, I can tell by lookin’ at him!” Orson shouted.
“Oh, you don’t know, you can’t tell how much of a bottom someone is by looking at him,” Lisa Anne said. She crossed her arms over her chest. Orson sighed and nodded. Then, just to help make this easier for Orson, she kissed another cheerleader right on the lips.
Orson watched the girls making out like his life depended on catching every detail. Bart came back to hugging him close, just to see how comfortable he was so far. Bart’s hand moved down to his crotch and handled his fat erection. Orson twitched but he didn’t respond. Bart kissed him on the belly, then climbed onto the sauna bench to kiss up his chest. Orson was totally stiff, unmoving, staring straight at the girls as they made out.
His muscles were hard as rock. Since Orson didn’t have a perfect body and he was usually pretty low-key, his muscles were never really this firm. It was like touching a stone statue. He seemed to be going for pretending it wasn’t happening.
“Ooh, Orson, that’s so hot…”
“We love you, baby!”
Orson grunted at them. Bart knelt in front of him and put his mouth on Orson’s cock, just long enough to make it hard. Orson had a deliciously greasy flavor, full of machismo and unwashed manhood.
But instead he sat down and spread his legs. Bart couldn’t help but giggle — he couldn’t believe he was really doing this. The sight of girls fingering themselves and each other was strange too, something Bart never really had seen before, not like this.
Even when the girls told him to put his mouth on Bart’s dick, Orson didn’t stop watching them eat each other’s pussies. He knelt in front of Bart, blushing intensely. He opened his mouth and winced even before Bart’s dick passed his lips. He scrunched his eyes shut.
“Swallow it!”
“Oh my god, that’s so hot! You’ve never been sexier, Orson!”
Bart couldn’t tell if they were telling the truth, teasing Orson or exaggerating to make him feel more comfortable — Bart had won a bet with the girls, that was why they agreed to make Orson do this. Plus they probably wanted to see how much they could make a frustrated and horny fat guy do. So they hooted and flashed their tits at Orson as cringingly brought his mouth closer and closer to Bart’s manhood.
As soon as Bart’s dick touched his tongue, Orson gagged so violently Bart didn’t think this was going to happen. Orson retched and spat up a big wad of saliva onto the floor of the sauna. His now-open eyes looked dourly on towards the girls, who all giggled as they watched, having removed their tops now entirely. When Orson caught sight of their breasts, he again was hyponotized them. His cock twitched, and Bart stroked it with one hand the best he could — Orson was so tall that it was difficult for him to stoop low enough to put his mouth on Bart’s dick, and when he did, that placed his crotch nearly out of reach for Bart’s hand.
He opened his mouth and gagged again when he took Bart’s dick past his lips. His gags made his bellyfat and his thunderous thighs wobble and made the muscle under his meat flex and ripple. Bart explored those jiggling muscles as his dick jabbed and roped around on Orson’s face — Bart didn’t focus on getting it straight in Orson’s mouth, because that made Orson gag and spit it out, and Orson was more focused on the girls and their catalogue of tits. That meant Bart and his hands could roam over every inch of Orson’s face and chest and even his ass. Orson was a big man with a big mouth, and he tried to take Bart’s dick without actually touching it any more than he could help it — he tried to take his dick in his mouth without letting it touch his tongue or the sides of his mouth.
And he was big enough, he could sort of do it. His mouth was cavernous, and Bart got his entire dick in there before he felt Orson’s tongue finally batter his shaft.
“Oooh, baby, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…” The girls moaned, their giggles turning to quiet titters so Orson wouldn’t feel they were laughing at him. They were, of course, or some of them were, holding back hysterical laughs so hard their cheeks were turning red like Orson’s. Orson did not notice.
When Bart’s dick got to be too much for Orson, he closed his eyes, only to open them when he realized that meant he couldn’t see the cheerleaders. With some effort, he managed to keep his tongue on Bart’s cock. He was surprised to find that the taste wasn’t so bad. He had gagged initially because he was humiliated and worried about how gross it would be.
But it actually tasted just like pussy, he thought. A lot of girls refused to fuck him, they just let him lick their pussies — because he had a nice big tongue but his dick was too big for them, and they didn’t like having to cram beneath his massive body — so Orson was an experienced pussy-eater. He had tasted a lot of vaginas, and this cock tasted just like one.
He wasn’t sure if that was because all cocks rather tasted like pussies, which seemed logical if disconcerting, or if Bart specifically tasted like a girl. That option had a certain logic to it, since Bart was effeminate.
Regardless, once he got started, Orson thought it wasn’t so bad. He had to watch the girls out of the corner of his eyes, but that was enough to see them, and as long as he thought about that, he wasn’t too embarrassed at the cock drilling down his throat. He could almost ignore it.
Bart didn’t mind the awkwardness of it. He was a bottom by habit and by nature, so he rarely got jerked off like this, and he had certainly never been jerked off by a massive rugby jock who outweighed him by like two hundred pounds. He forced his dick down Orson’s throat, and the more Orson got into it, the less he gagged and the more he could keep an intent stare at the naked chicks in front of him.
It was almost too awkward and nerve-wracking to really be enjoyable. For a moment Bart wasn’t sure this would go anywhere. It was the worst dome of his life, objectively speaking, but when he felt that tongue slather spit on his shaft, and Bart touched the sweat-dappled muscles of Orson’s back, a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine.
Bart moaned. Precum flowed onto Orson’s tongue, enough to spark another torrent of gagging. That made the girls giggle, but they didn’t stop. Orson just arranged his body so he could get a better look. More and more precum spewed forth, as Bart was overcome by throes of passion and an intense desire to blow his wad. He tried to hold back though.
Finally, when Bart thought he was about to cum, he pulled out. He bent over and kissed Orson on the lips before Orson could say anything else.
The girls cheered him on. Orson wrinkled his nose and didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t stop Bart. Bart’s tongue plunged into his mouth. Orson sighed but endured it, while Bart’s hands roamed all over his body.
Bart very nearly sat on his lap as they kissed, out of pure instinct and habit — he loved taking it up the ass like that, sitting on his alpha’s lap. But instead he reversed it, sitting on that bench and motioning for Orson to sit on his cock.
“Oh.” Orson hung his head. He had hoped maybe Bart would cum just from the blowjob. But there were so many naked girls all around him that Orson couldn’t bear to say no. He wanted this more than anything. Orson would have found it difficult to say no to any number of naked girls for any reason.
The position was awkward, but Bart loved it — he feel of Orson’s fat body twisting into position made the whole thing sexier. Bart held onto Orson’s hefty ass and back as though he could help support him, while Orson lowered himself onto Bart’s crotch.
“Do it! Do it!” The girls squealed and squirmed in each other’s arms. They must really be enjoying the sight of Orson getting it up the ass, Bart thought. He was glad. He wondered if they could do this again.
Then Orson let out a deep-chested howl as Bart’s cock slipped in. For a moment, Orson thought something was wrong. This hurt too much; it wasn’t supposed to be like that; something, he thought, had gone wrong.
His muscles all tensed, and he stopped moving with just the tip of Bart’s dick in his ass. His hole clenched, making Bart gasp, already on the verge of orgasm.
It was lucky that the discrepancy in size made this position difficult, because Bart was so turned on he would have blown his load right away if it was easy. He gripped Orson’s massive asscheeks, each one of them seemingly bigger than Bart’s whole body, and he guided Orson down.
The girls slowly stopped making out to watch. Orson gasped and heaved, his face turning redder and redder with every bit of Bart’s cockmeat sliding into him. He fumed and stopped a few times, resuming only when he looked up and saw the tits and pussies surrounding him.
“Oh, shit, man,” Orson said, his voice breathless and weak.
“That is so hot! Oh my god!”
The girls all agreed. Hoping to buck up Orson, they took turns kissing him on the lips while he focused on letting Bart’s entire cock fill up his ass. Bart moaned, his voice breaking and wavering.
Finally, he was in. Bart was overwhelmed by both the pressure and the arousal. He reached up to massage Orson’s back, which stretched above Bart’s head, deliciously imperfect with a few scars and marks, along with a mat of body hair stretching over his shoulders from his chest.
Orson held himself on Bart’s cock. He couldn’t bring himself to move, so Bart pumped his hips upward, plowing Orson’s tight asshole.
“You have such a nice ass,” Bart said. “Goddamn…” That made the girls giggle. Bart reached around Orson’s body. He managed to grab his dick, which was limp. Bart intended to give him a reacharound, but Orson was totally soft, so, Bart thought, that wouldn’t happen.
Just as he was about to let go, however, Bart felt his dick twitch and Orson’s ass loosen. Bart could plow harder now, and Orson seemed to be in less pain. Soon his cock was rock-hard, throbbing in Bart’s grip.
Orson was barely aware of that happening. He could tell that the pain had diminished, and there was a strange, offputting sort of pleasure building up in his ass. He had never experienced anything like it. It wasn’t unambiguously blissful, there was a certain agonizing quality to it, like when you removed a cast and the skin felt good but was so sensitive it hurt at the same time.
That pleasure grew more intense with every passing moment. Orson’s deep moans resonated in the sauna, and his voice was so low and rumbling that it seemed impossibly loud to the girls. He sucked on his lip as he realized he was getting a reacharound and liking it.
He hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he was enjoying this. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t so important. It seemed irrelevant right now, like he couldn’t possibly worry about his sore asshole when his prostate sent wave after wave of inexhaustible pleasure through his veins.
“Oh god, stick him!” The girls squealed and clutched each other.
Bart struggled to reach Orson’s dick. His body was so big it was tough to do, especially with Bart taking the lead in plowing Orson’s ass too. His balls slapped into Orson’s hairy cheeks, while he stroked that massive uncut cock. He had to use both hands to keep spreading the voluminous flesh of Orson’s cheeks.
And then at last, they both finished. Bart orgasmed first, and while he moaned into the meat of Orson’s back and filled his ass up with cream, he was able to speed up his handjob. That sent Orson over the edge at the same time, so he sprayed jets of cum onto the sauna floor.
Bart’s spurting cumloads lasted for what felt like forever. Bart didn’t mind, as he was wracked by spasms of pleasure like golden chords striking throughout his slim body. Though he struggled to accommodate Orson’s hefty frame above himself, Bart didn’t mind at all. He had been hoping to mess around with Orson for awhile. He massaged every inch of those rugby-toned muscles, while pumping his last few drops of cum into Orson’s hairy ass.
Finally, Orson slid off him. He was too exhausted now to sit, so he laid down, glad to see that Lisa Anne sat next to his head. She patted him on the cheek.
“Oh my god, Orson, that was so hot…” Lisa Anne said with a giggle. The other girls all rushed to agree.
Bart took a deep breath. The girls were swarming Orson, who beamed — despite his embarrassment, he was glad to have done it because girls had never given him attention like this before. He had already cum but Orson was desperate to go again as long as it was with a girl this time.
So by the time Bart was on his feet again, Orson was smiling as one of the cheerleaders sat on his face. He snarled like a wolf, making her laugh, and then pounced on her pussy, ramming his tongue right in.
“Oh god, Orson!”
Bart was tired. He hung around for a few more minutes. Orson let him suck on his balls a bit, but eventually the girls were too involved for Bart to find a way in. He was done anyway. There was a linebacker Bart wanted to check out, and he just might have an in with one of GHU’s chunkier coaches too. The campus was full of thick-bodied alpha men, and Bart was on a mission to worship every one of their bodies.

The Tennis Pro

Rob helps a handsome tennis pro sneak around with a married woman, and in exchange Rob gets to swing on his throbbing alpha-male meat! Can Rob get away with this scheme and with a taste of this muscular ladysman’s masculine musk?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“The profit predictions for the Canal Street location aren’t as good, that’s the only reason I was hesitant,” said Clement. “But let me show you what the business analyst said about Garraty Avenue. It’s got real potential. There’s no gas stations within four miles, and it gets plenty of traffic. It’s near the community college.”
“Oh, that’s fascinating,” Rob lied. He disliked Clement quite a bit, but that wasn’t really a problem for him — he didn’t want to spend time with him at all. He was just doing this because it helped him reach his ultimate goal: Gabe Willcaster. Rob could already smell the stink of Gabe’s tennis gear.
Not literally. Rob was nowhere’s near Gabe Willcaster. He was in a cheesy “Pennsylvania Dutch” restaurant in Connecticut with the portly banker Clement Tale.
“Have you given any thought to per-gallon tolling versus sunk tanks?” Clement said. “Because sunk tanks are a better way to go in the long-term. We can get you a great deal on a building company too. It takes longer, but that’s just early time, you can get that back on less maintenance over the life of your gas station.”
“Tell me more,” Rob said. It took all of his concentration to avoid rolling his eyes.
But he couldn’t do that because Clement Tale had to think that Rob was for real. Rob was pretending to be interested in opening a gas station here in Orchard Range, Connecticut. He had no desire to do that. It seemed like a stupid idea. But Clement was trying to talk him into it because he was a banker, and that was what bankers did.
And anyway, Rob’s father was strongly encouraging him — requiring him — yelling at him repeatedly about it and sending him nasty emails — to start a business. He wanted to encourage an entrepreneurial spirit.
“How many employees were you going to hire?” Clement asked, and he really seemed like he wanted to know.
Rob thought he might fall asleep any moment now. This was so boring. How do people fall in love with boring fucks like Clement Tale?
Someone had fallen in love with him. Her name was Jessica, and Rob knew her well. She had genuinely loved her husband for a long time, and he had given her five wonderful children, all of them now grown. Clement had been cheating on her for years, and his mistress loved him too. Women were mystifying. What on earth could they have seen in him? He was sorta vaguely handsome in a generic older man sort of way. Not sexy certainly. Stately. Elegantly pleasant to look at.
He was rich. Was that really all women cared about? They stopped listening after they heard the word ‘banker’.
Who knows the ways of women? Not Rob. In any case, Clement had a wife who loved him and a mistress who loved him and actually a couple of spurned lovers who still loved him too. Mystifying but true. Jessica — that’s the wife — knew about the mistresses. Rob had encouraged her to sleep around too. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose.
So Jessica was having an affair with a tennis pro named Gabe, and that was where Rob came in.
Rob had been lusting for Gabe for years. When he finished with his silly distraction — that meeting with Clement was just to distract him so Gabe could go out on a date with the man’s wife — Rob went right back to the tennis club. By then, Jessica would be gone, and Gabe would have some free time before his next lesson.
He was a dark-haired, swarthy young man with a head of curly brown hair, sterling cheekbones and dimples that went out to here. He had a thick voice too, like his throat had been marinated in sherry. He was broad-chested and strong without being muscular, and smooth yet furry, charming, and he had a reputation — among the staff at the Rockhard Country Club — for seducing women.
Especially upper-class women.
That was why Gabe was dating both Jessica and — unknown to either of them — her daughter, Karen. Not to mention Mrs. Fletcher. And he had never broken up with Mrs. O’Connor either, he thought with a grin.
Gabe was exhausted after his date with Jessica. He spent hours with her, speaking sweetly, kissing her on the neck. She paid for dinner, of course — Gabe didn’t make much money — and she had bought him a shirt he liked, and she had even paid for his health insurance — she primly declared that it was a charitable donation and would be written off on her taxes. Gabe was pretty sure Jessica had no idea what that meant or how to do it. Her husband was a banker, of course he would be the one to do their taxes, or more likely hires an accountant.
She ran her fingers through his hair, and she swooned in his arms. Gabe loved making women feel like that, so he could them purring with contentment in his arms. He loved that he could make Jessica feel like that, and her daughter Karen — who was going out with him tomorrow night — and a bevy of other women.
Gabe whistled on his way back to the country club. He had met Jessica there, because he didn’t want to go to her house and be seen by her neighbors, family or butler, and she didn’t want to come to his house for the same reason — silly delicate Jessica actually thought Gabe was wealthy enough to have a butler and neighbors who gave a crap about whether or not Gabe was seeing a married woman.
Since he hadn’t gone home since finishing work, Gabe was still dressed for tennis, and his things were in his cabana. He wore short white shorts and a polo shirt that showed off the smattering of hair on his chest. The country club assigned him the cabana for “work” — he had put the bed in it himself, and he had wired it to play romantic tango music and he had even installed a little vibrating machine on the bed.
“Hey,” said Rob, sidling up next to him as Gabe unlocked his cabana. Gabe had to put down the tennis racket to get his key in the lock.
“Oh shit, there you are, hey, Rob,” Gabe said with a nervous chuckle. He sucked in his breath. He was both eager to get this over with and a little reluctant to do it right now — he’d been hoping to get in Jessica’s panties all night. That didn’t happen, it was just a date at a discrete restaurant.
“How’d it go?”
“Ah… It was a bust. Thanks for distracting Clement though,” Gabe said with a sigh. He went into his cabana and let Rob in behind him. The night was chilly, but the cabana was warm and stuffy, humid, like a blanket that smelled a little of male sweat, a little of sex and a whole lot of cologne.
Gabe wrinkled his nose and lit a scented candle, making the whole cabana smell of “elderberry sunshine” instead. He sighed.
“Oh no shit, she wouldn’t bang you?”
“You don’t have to be crude,” Gabe said with a leering grin, like he really enjoyed Rob being crude but didn’t want to admit it, just in case one of his female companions happened to overhear. He even looked around the empty cabana to check. The walls were those faux-reeds, somple plain mats that weren’t much of a soundproofing technology. Gabe’s cabana was set back to give him some privacy, but anyone who suspected him — like Jessica’s husband and/or daughter and/or any of a bevy of other jealous men, spurned lovers and private investigators.
There wasn’t much furniture in here either, aside from the bed itself. Tennis gear lay all around the room, shoes and rackets and pieces to the tennis ball machine that had broken last year. Rob sniffed the horny sweat from Gabe’s armpit.
“She wouldn’t allow you to make sweet, languorous love to her lovely lady-parts?”
“She wasn’t feelin’ it,” Gabe said. He sat on his bed and spread his legs. He knew what Rob was going to try next.
“I’m feelin’ it…” Rob said with a giggle. He came closer and stretched out on the bed next to Gabe. “You poor baby… You want a backrub?”
“Oh Yeah, yeah, I need that,” Gabe said. He sighed. This wouldn’t be bad. He had agreed to let Rob jerk him off. He spent a lot of time eating women out, and they rarely treated him like his own pleasure was worth considering at all.
Gabe lifted off his polo shirt, revealing a supple, taut chest with a gorgeous six-pack. He had a thin layer of fuzz right over his sternum, just enough to be visible. He used to shave himself as smooth as a seal, but he found women liked it better when he had a bit of chest hair.
He was sprawled out on the bed, and Rob climbed up onto him, mounting his ass so he could rub his shoulders. He cooed softly. Rob was eager to get started, but he didn’t want to push. He had been hoping to get a taste of Gabe’s hot body for a long time.
So it had been worth it to spend hours talking about gas stations with a stuffy fifty-something banker. Utterly boring.
He kneaded the well-muscled back of Gabe’s body, and Gabe let out a seductive moan. Rob leaned down and kissed his smooth skin. Gabe was strong with well-developed shoulders from the years he had spent playing tennis, but he didn’t have a bulky bodybuilderish body. He had stacks of meaty muscle overtop his shoulders, aand his shoulders flexed beautifully when Rob gently sucked on his soft skin.
His hair was immaculate too. Rob didn’t know how he could do it living by himself, because he always kept his hair at the same length, the same level of curliness, the same tapered ending above his neck, so there was never even a single stray hair on his back.
He went lower along Gabe’s spine, plastering his skin with kisses. A few hairs did finally appear there, over the small of his back, just above his ass. He wore white shorts now, above tennis shoes and short socks. Rob slowly untied his shoes.
Gabe stiffened up a bit. He’d never been with a man. It had seemed simple when he agreed to it — he often messed with females he didn’t especially find attractive. It would be nice, he thought, to get dome for the first time in a long time, to get to ram without regard for seducing women or maintaining a good image for the country club.
But it was hard to relax. He remained intimately aware that it was a man caressing his body, not a woman.
“Roll over,” Rob said softly, and Gabe did so. He lifted his ass so Rob could pull his shorts down, and his hefty cock — not obscenely huge, but big — popped out.
It was just slightly hard at the moment, far from erect, but still some lingering firmness from when he nearly got to fuck Jessica and a bit of a reawakening after that from Rob’s hands all over Gabe’s back. Gabe closed his eyes and sprawled out, arms and legs akimbo. He felt an urge to wiggle like a little boy, but he managed to resist, even though he was nervously ticklish to Rob’s petite fingers dancing over his skin.
“Hmmm… You taste real good,” Rob said with a throaty murmur. His hands kneaded Gabe’s chest and his tight, taut little pecs, which flexed beneath his touch. Rob kept giving his dick a half-hearted stroke, teasing Gabe to get him interested.
Soon enough Gabe’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head, supporting himself on his elbows. He watched his dick flop beneath Rob’s hand. “Hey did Clement say anything about Jessica?”
“Not really. He said his wife plays tennis,” Rob murmured softly. His attention was on Gabe’s dick.
“Cool.” Gabe couldn’t tear his eyes away from his cock. He cleared his throat. “It’ll get hard if you get it wet.”
“You can’t get hard from a handjob?”
Gabe blushed. “I… I mean…I can… I just-“
“Is it because I’m a man?”
Gabe nodded. “I mean, it’s cool, it’s just… weird.”
Rob giggled and smiled. He knew Gabe wouldn’t get hard like this. Rob was just teasing him, playing with his half-hard dick and massaging his muscles. He bent over and sucked off the sweat that was collecting in the forested valley between his pecs. It was warm enough in here — and plenty humid enough — to make him sweat just a bit.
Gabe smiled back to conceal his growing frustration — he just wanted to get hard and jerked off so he could go home. Or, he thought, he could just stay here. He had never slept all night in the cabana by himself. He’d shared the bed with women; he’d napped there during the day; he’d slept part of the night by himself after his woman of the week up and left during the night, but he’d never just slept in the bed.
It would feel so good to sleep alone. Tomorrow was Tuesday, when the country club didn’t open until ten o’clock, so no staff showed up until nine. He’d have plenty of time to sleep in.
Why do I want to sleep in? Oh god am I old? Do I need to settle down? I sound like Granddad, always talking about sleeping in until nine as though it was some special event to be celebrated and remembered forever! Oh god! I need to find a wife and settle down-
But Gabe’s anxiety vanished the moment his cocktip slid into Rob’s warm mouth. Gabe let out a long, low sigh as his dick rocketed into full erection. He’d been on the verge for so long it took little time to make it happen.
“Hmmmm….” Rob moaned, the sound blending in with the crippeting chorus outside.
His dick tasted clean, of coconut-scent soap and crisp night-time air — it tasted like the air outside of the cabana, away from the stale and humid, chlorine-soaked air. It tasted like a sleeping forest, Rob thought, but beneath that there was a certain funkiness, a little manly musk that made Rob croon and his knees go weak. It was the taste of tennis-jock, and it overwhelmed Rob with desire.
He slathered it with spit. He soon recognized that Gabe was desperate for some genuine affection, even if he would never admit it. He wanted someone to want to make him feel good, instead of just expecting him to lick their clitorises to orgasm again and again.
Gabe moaned out loud, more fully and more passionately than he had moaned with any woman recently. He gripped Rob’s head tightly, holding on as he rode him up and down. Grinding his dick deep into Rob’s throat, he made love to his mouth, plunging in and out, coating his tongue in creamy precum.
“Do you wanna ram me?” Rob asked, wiping spit off his lips. He smiled. Gabe was pale, wide-eyed and stammering. He looked like he was on the verge of orgasm already.
“Uh… I… I guess… I… I didn’t, uh… I want…”
“Just say yes or no,” Rob said. He rubbed Gabe’s dick against his face, slowly so he wouldn’t make him cum too quickly. He wanted to slow Gabe down so he could experience this for as long as possible.
“Yes.” Gabe gulped.
Rob smiled and laid down on his back. Gabe stood, standing at the foot of the bed, where Rob scooted until his feet could be in the air resting on Gabe’s broad shoulders. A lot of guys loved getting in behind men in this position because it looked and felt like fucking a woman. Of course, a lot of them disliked it because it put the bottom’s cock and balls squarely in front of the top’s eyes. Gabe couldn’t help but watch Rob jack off.
For some men, it was too difficult to stay hard while watching a man jack off. Gabe thought that might be him, but he instinctively refused to say it — he didn’t want to be less seductive; he didn’t want to turn away a conquest; he had a reputation to uphold, at least in his mind.
Besides, he told himself, you don’t have to look down.
Despite that, he did look down as he wedged his dick between Rob’s cheeks and slid in. He sucked in his breath because the side of his hand came tantalizingly close to touching Rob’s ballsac — he might have come into contact with a few curly hairs, but he managed to convince himself that didn’t happen.
His cocktip filled up Rob’s ass, and Rob immediately clenched. He struggled to take it in, not because it was so big but because Gabe was used to being extra-gentle. He stopped whenever he felt even a faint twinge of resistance from Rob’s body.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Gabe,” Rob said with a moan to get him going harder. He reached for Gabe’s cock, guiding it into his ass and holding it firmly. He tried to pull it, shoving it in, hoping to hurry Gabe along into him.
“Are you okay?”
“Ramming men in the ass is different from fucking women. Women have clitorises, it feels best-” Rob winced as a shiver of pain hit him hard. But he didn’t let that slow him down any. “They want you to focus on that, right there on the surface. But men have prostates, way down deep in there. You gotta go all the way in.”
Gabe grimaced and blushed but did so. The tension was too great to speak. He couldn’t decide if this felt amazing or gross — it was a bit of both at once, and both sensations coursed through his veins.
Amazing.
All of a sudden, Gabe’s dick rammed in the rest of the way as his inhibitions melted and Rob managed to suck him in. A grand wave of pleasure ran into Gabe like a truck, and he groaned loudly. He first tried to muffle the sound, then remembered that there was no one outside — the country club had been closed for hours, and even the night janitors were gone.
So he could be as loud as he wanted. Men like Rob didn’t even get upset if he acted barbarically too — so Gabe could growl and grunt, paw at Rob’s body and ram into him as hard as he could. He didn’t have to be seductive.
All he had to do was ram as hard as he could. He plowed into Rob over and over, back and forth. He hadn’t been able to really go to town on anyone’s tight hole in a long time. It felt good to act without regard for anything but his own pleasure and without a face shiny with old-lady pussyjuice.
Gabe laughed meanly for the first time in a long time, as an orgasm overwhelmed him and he sighed. His hot breath condensed on Rob’s face, Gabe leaning over when his knees weakened.
Pleasure exploded within Rob’s ass, and he shot his own wad all over his chest and belly. It coated him in a layer of creamy warmth. But even then, Gabe kept at it.
His dick slammed into Rob, and Gabe sucked in his breath. For just a moment — though it seemed to last forever — both men orgasmed at once. Gabe sometimes managed to do that, but it had never felt as real or as vibrant as it did now.
The most intense orgasm of his life, or at least his most intense since he started working here and banging married old broads, wracked Gabe’s body and made him shake from head to toe. He howled and screamed, pounding away at Rob’s ass with more force than he had ever thought someone could take.
At last, it was over. Gabe let out a long chest-rattling sigh, and wiped sweat off his chest. Rob sighed too, and bit his lip. His orgasm dwindled away to tense soreness because Gabe’s dick still throbbed as it limpened inside Rob’s ass.
“Goddamn, that was nice…” Rob said. He blushed. He giggled and slid away, moaning and blinking his eyes as exhilaration flowed through him and his ass emptied.
Gabe smiled and blushed. “I-“
The door opened. In stormed Clement Tale, the banker Rob had distracted earlier, the cuckolded husband of Gabe’s current women (or one of them, anyway) and father of one of Gabe’s other current conquests. Clement looked at the bed with his mouth agape as though it didn’t quite compute.
Clement had assumed he’d walk in on Gabe the tennis pro fucking his wife. He’d grown suspicious of the handsome tennis pro — why did his wife need years of tennis lessons anyway? She barely played! — and then doubly suspicious when Rob had seemed unserious at their meeting. He recalled Jessica’s odd tone when talking about her plans for this afternoon and evening, and Clement had been struck with the certainty that she was fucking that smarmy-faced prick Gabe.
His blood already boiled with rage over the adultery he thought he was walking in, and he couldn’t quite process that that wasn’t what he was seeing. “You manwhore! You wife-stealing bastard! How dare you seduce my…”
“Mr. Tale?!” Gabe shouted. He backed away from the bed, cock dangling between his legs. “I… It’s not what it looks like. This is my… cousin… He’s… staying here, and uh-“
Rob slid out of bed. Clement Tale looked at him curiously, head cocked to the side. It seemed like quite a coincidence that the flamboyant young man who had expressed interest in a gas station just a few hours ago was now apparently here in the room of the tennis pro Mr. Tale had been sure was stupping his wife until a few seconds ago.
Clement couldn’t figure out what it meant or in what way it might be an attack on him. Maybe the flamboyant young man was a con artist? But the plan was for him to invest. He was talking about buying a gas station. He wasn’t asking for money. And why would the tennis pro be involved?
Now Mr. Tale wasn’t sure of anything. “You… you… ingrate!” Mr. Tale shouted. He couldn’t think of what to accuse either man of.
“What are you doing here?” Gabe asked.
“I-I… I’m sorry to disturb you.” Clement backed out of the cabana, into the dark night. He still felt sure there was something he wasn’t understanding. But he had assuaged his concerns, or at least he was satisfied that Jessica was not at this very moment fucking her tennis pro. He couldn’t rule out any other moments. That mollified Clement as much as he was capable of being mollified in this moment, and he walked back to his car in stunned silence. Back in the cabana, Rob kissed Gabe again and again until Gabe signaled for him to stop.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Rob asked, still basking in the heat and the comfortable solidity of Gabe’s frame.
Gabe shrugged. He didn’t want to admit he was eager to make that happen. If he got to ram Rob again and again all night long, he would sleep so good. He allowed Rob to kiss and suck his chest clean, then they both laid down on the bed.
Now, Gabe was glad he wasn’t sleeping alone.
Rob sighed. He was going to sleep with Gabe all night in the bed, it seemed, in this cabana that reeked of Gabe’s lust. He nuzzled Gabe’s now slightly scruffy chin and wrapped one hand around his well-muscled chest.
“Hmmmm… Thanks, Rob,” Gabe said. “I really needed this.”

The Jock

Avery is a masseur who finds himself servicing a studly if idiotic football jock! His name is Jimmy, he knows literally nothing and he’s desperate for someone to prove it’s possible to swallow every inch of his alpha male meat…

Can Avery satisfy Jimmy’s oral needs?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers rubbed lotion into his feet. The bottom of his feet sometimes got dry and cracked. It was awkward to do it himself because he couldn’t see where it was a problem, and he always ended up with a slippery foot afterwards. On the linoleum-tiled massage room floor at the Thackenswitch Center for Massage, that was problematic.
So when Jimmy Spokes strode in, Avery was surprised — he nearly toppled over and had to grab the counter to support himself. He wasn’t expecting anyone right now, and he lost his balance.
Plus, Jimmy was a burly jock with a studly physique. As a fervent admirer of the male form, he was immediately attracted to Jimmy’s body. Of course he didn’t know who Jimmy was yet, he was just a stranger striding into his massage room uninvited.
“Hey, you’re Avery, right?” Jimmy asked. He cocked his head to the side and tapped his feet on the ground. He had a big round face — not chiseled or handsome like an action movie star, but jolly and earnest and strong. He was naturally powerful though he didn’t have a perfect body. He had a hefty frame, a barrel-shaped chest and plenty of meat to his body. He looked like he was naturally very fat, but only had an athletic shape because he was so high-energy. He was a tight end on the GHU football team.
“Uh… Hey.” Avery furrowed his brow at the shapely intruder.
“I don’t think it’s a big deal, I know she thinks I’m embarrassed, but I’m not.” Jimmy paused. “Okay, I am.” He laughed and turned red, his lightly Southern accent echoing against the high ceilings. “Okay, just… Are you okay? You don’t have to do this.”
Avery had been momentarily distracted by Jimmy’s physique. Now he thought he must have missed something. He didn’t know what Jimmy was talking about.
“Uh… what?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Avery said. “Oh… Wait, you mean Elaine Gambrill? You’re Jimmy?”
He beamed and pounded on his chest, then took off his shirt. His chest was set with huge strapping muscles. “That’s right.” He paused. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do this. Am I supposed to kiss you?” He blushed as red as a cranberry. “I can’t do that! Don’t make me do that! I’m like… I’m not allowed to kiss you, on account of, because of, the reason… See, I, uh… “
“Okay, Jimmy, tell me what you’re talking about. Where’s Elaine?”
“I just don’t want to kiss you.”
“Why was that ever the plan!?”
“It wasn’t!” He hopped up onto the massage table like it was an exam table and he was waiting for his doctor. He laid there with his hands behind his head. “Hey, you watch football, right? I was trying to get Elaine to come over to watch a game and she was being ridiculous. She said football is as boring as watching paint fly, which I think would be amazing, I’d totally watch paint fly. If it was blue, you’d never see it. If you were outside. And it wasn’t cloudy. And it was daytime. Or if it was nighttime, you’d never see it either, but for a different reason.”
“Ah. Okay.” Avery sighed. Elaine had said her new boyfriend was an idiot — she had said it much more nicely and hadn’t used the i-word, but now that Avery had met him, he knew exactly what Elaine had been hinting at.
There was a loud banging knock on the door and a hoot like someone was watching a stripper. Avery was startled, but Jimmy just guffawed. He got up and opened the door. He stuck his head out into the hall and laughed. “Fuck you, George! Get outta here! You’re the pansy!” He turned around and smiled at Avery. “Sorry, was that offensive words? He’s just a total retard. So it’s not offensive. Don’t tell Elaine.”
“Okay. Jimmy, Jimmy, please tell me what you’re here for. Do you want a massage?”
He had a big silly grin on his goofy face. “Oh wow, yeah! Can you do that?”
“Yes, Jimmy. This is a massage parlor. You have to pay. Elaine didn’t tell you I’d do it for free, did she?”
“Not the massage! But I’m not paying for the… other thing.” Jimmy blushed again. He bit his lip. “Is that… ? Sorry, are you…?”
“Jimmy, please just say it. What the hell is going on?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No! No! I’ve told you that, I said it before! If I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t have a face like a confused white guy, would I?”
He laughed again, or rather he continued to laugh, since he hadn’t stopped since he walked in, his deep barrel-shaped voice echoing in the massage room. “Okay, well, I… You’re supposed to, like… jerk me off.” He paused and licked his lips, his ruddy face breaking out in sweat. “Sorry, I guess I thought she told you. Oh, I am supposed to give you this. Is that right?” He pulled a jockstrap out of his pocket and handed it to Avery. “What do you do with that? It’s too big for you. Can you really sell that?”
“Oh.” Avery took the jockstrap. It was used, stained with sweat, and he could smell the unwashed musk of it already. He was too confused still to really think about what was going on. “What? I’m supposed to sell this? Like online?”
“Online? I guess, I don’t care. Is that a rule?”
Avery sighed. “Jimmy, why did you give this to me?”
“Elaine said I had to.”
“Did she give you a reason?”
“She said you would like it,” he said. “She didn’t say why.”
“Ah, okay. Thank you for explaining that,” Avery said. He rolled his eyes. He had made a joke once to Elaine about how he would like to sniff her boyfriend’s jock — that hadn’t been Jimmy, she was dating a different big buff athlete then — and she constantly brought it up. Avery blushed a little because she wasn’t exactly wrong; he’d probably sniff that and jack off later. He was hardly a jockstrap-enthusiast though.
“So you’re not going to sell it?”
“Sell it? No. It’s not-“
“So what do you do with it? Is it a collection?”
“A collection? Jimmy-“
He must have realized there was a sexual component then because his eyes opened wide and he jumped to his feet. He jumped up and down. “Oh it’s a… Oh shit!” He opened the door. “Hey, George! He’s gonna sniff it or something, I think. It’s like, he’s into sweat!”
George was out in the waiting room. He said something Avery couldn’t hear, but it sounded like he and Jimmy had been brainstorming theories as to why the jockstrap was important.
Jimmy went back to the massage table and sat down. He took his shoes and socks off. “I’m glad Elaine didn’t tell you to jerk me off. She might have told you to do it badly. Will you tell her I did it right? Tell her I asked about her. No, wait, tell her I was a good listener. Tell her I told you about the thing… about her job. Tell her I told you what she told me about her job.”
“What?”
“About her boss, he’s like… Jerry, I think. He, uh… She doesn’t like him. There’s a whole thing — I don’t remember, but tell her I said it. Tell her I was listening,” he said. He took his football jersey off and tossed it on the floor. His broad chest muscles were covered in scruffy tufts of fur.
“Listening to what?”
“To her!” He had a big grin like he thought Avery should already know what he was talking about.
“You mean the attendance policy at work? Jerry changed the rules about how much notice she has to give for time off.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that. Tell her I told you about that. Tell her I listen to her.”
“Jimmy… You aren’t really making much sense. Elaine told you to come see me, give me a jockstrap and you want me to tell her that you told me about her job, even though she didn’t.”
“She did!”
“You weren’t listening?”
“I was! I was trying! There was a football game on! Or, I mean, I was playing a football game on my X-Box. It was on the TV,” Jimmy said. “And you have to jerk me off.”
“What?”
“That’s the whole thing!”
“Oh my god, Jimmy, talking to you is like talking to the Cheshire Cat if it smoked a lot of weed. I’m supposed to jerk you off?”
“Yes!” He blushed again. He realized Avery was looking at his bare chest. “Hey, do you think…?” His eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, my neighbor’s like that! Whenever I lift weights he comes out and he has that look on his face!” He shrugged. “You might know him. Like… Spencer or something? He’s an… office… guy? He does something with paper. He uses a computer, I think. Maybe not all the time. Or is it a museum? Do people work in museums?”
“Jimmy, why did Elaine want you to get dome from me?”
“Oh,” he blushed and bit his lip. He jumped back up on the massage table, wearing only dirty jeans. “She said no one can deep-throat it cuz it’s too big.” He beamed proudly. “She said you’ll prove it. You swallow dick better than anyone. She said if you can’t deep-throat it, I can’t ask her to do it ever again.”
“Oh.” It was Avery’s turn to blush. He was a little annoyed that Elaine hadn’t told him first, but then, he suspected that she didn’t plan for it to happen that way. Jimmy was annoying because he had assumed Avery already knew the plan; Elaine no doubt assumed Jimmy would be nice and politely ask Avery to jerk him off. Jimmy assumed somebody else had made all the arrangements.
“You do it up the ass, right?” Jimmy asked. Then he blurted out, “Not me! I mean, I don’t wanna do anal, that’s not why I’m asking. Can you tell Elaine to do it? Tell her I’ll use lots of lube. Tell her it doesn’t always hurt-“
“Jimmy, hush.”
“Tell her that, okay? Come on, I can do it. I had a girl give up the ass once. She loved it.” He leaned in and whispered to Avery, “She was black. Is that okay? Can I say that?”
“Jimmy, be quiet,” Avery said, shaking his head. “Just stop talking. I’ll jerk you off if you stop talking.”
Jimmy did lean back, but only for a half-second before he got up and opened the door again. “Hey, George, he’s doing it! He’s gonna do it!” He laughed at whatever George said. “No way, man, you’d do that! You want it so bad! We all saw you with that fat girl!”
Avery grabbed Jimmy around the waist and pulled him away from the door. Jimmy’s strapping body tensed beneath Avery’s body because he tried to get back out in the hall. Avery dragged him in. “This is a spa, Jimmy, please stop shouting through the halls.”
“Okay, sorry, I was just telling George that we all know he fucked a fat girl, we saw her-“
“Stop, shut up. I know what you were saying. I was there,” Avery said. “Sit down and lean back.”
“Okay. I like fat girls. You’re bossy like Elaine is. You two must hang out bossing each other around,” Jimmy said. “Don’t tell her I said that. I meant it in a good way. Tell her that.” He paused. “Don’t tell her-“
“Jimmy, shut up. I’ll decide what to tell her about today.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. He had just gotten back on the massage table, leaning back and about to pull his pants down when he sat up once more. He looked at the Delaware state flag on the wall (this massage parlor was owned by a Delawarean who was proud of his state for unfathomable reasons). “Is that… a flag?”
Avery rolled his eyes. “Sure is. Nothing gets past you,” Avery said with a sigh. “Elaine needs to sew your mouth shut.”
“No, I lick her pussy and I do a good job and I-“
“Jesus Christ, stop talking about vaginas. Lift your ass up, Jimmy.”
He did lift himself up so Avery could undo his belt and pull his pants down. “Okay, I was just gonna ask if you could-“
“I know what you were asking.”
“-talk Elaine into doing something hot so I could watch. She could do something with other girls. You’d have to provide the girls,” he said.
“I’ll check my pantry,” Avery said. His annoyance disappeared at the sight of Jimmy’s massive manhood. He had been so distracted it hadn’t really occurred to him that Elaine sent him here to prove that he couldn’t be deep-throated, which would only be an issue if he had a huge cock. Now that he thought about it, Elaine had mentioned it was more than a foot long and as thick as a coke can. Avery had assumed that was just bragging, but, it seemed, it was real.
“See, it’s big, huh?” Jimmy got up, limp cock flopping all over, to go to the door and say something to George again. But his pants were around his ankles, a fact that he forgot until he toppled to the ground. “Ah shit.” He groaned. “I fell.”
“Jimmy…” Avery sighed.
Jimmy struggled to stand again. He blushed. “Sorry. I was gonna tell George you were impressed by it. George always says no one wants to see that, he says I have an ugly cock like a dead cricket bat. It doesn’t even make sense. He says I shouldn’t whip it out.” He made it to the door this time. “Hey, George! He said-“
Avery clamped one hand over Jimmy’s mouth. “Jimmy, shut the fuck up. Quit yelling in my massage parlor.”
Jimmy turned around and shuffled back into the room, pants around his ankles and huge cock swaying between his legs. “Sorry. I just wanted to tell George you thought it was the biggest you’ve ever seen.”
“I… didn’t say that.”
Jimmy hopped back up onto the table. His dick bobbed around like a wand. “Hey, can black guys be werewolves?”
It was such a non-sequitur that Avery could do little more than do a double-take and ignore the question. He was excited to finally start on Jimmy’s cock. He shivered in anticipation when he touched Jimmy’s the shaft, which was fleshy and warm. He gave it a stroke.
Jimmy giggled. “Ah, that tickles.” He paused. “So what do you think, can black guys be werewolves?”
“I don’t understand the question. Werewolves aren’t real.”
“So?”
“So… no. Black guys can not be werewolves. No one can,” Avery said. “Can I just jerk you off now?”
“Yeah, fine, go for it,” Jimmy said. Then he shouted towards the door. “Hey, George-!” He stopped himself. He fished his cell phone out of his pants, which were around his ankles, so reaching down there almost made him fall off the table. If he didn’t have such a powerful upper body, he probably would have fallen. “I’ll text him so I don’t have to shout.” Then he did shout anyway, he just aimed it at his cell phone as he typed out his message. “You can’t have black werewolves, George!”
Avery stroked his dick. He hoped focusing on that would make Jimmy focus on his dick. If he got hard, Avery thought, Jimmy would have to pay attention.
“We’re going to write a movie. It’s about werewolves. Werewolves are really cool. Our movie’s gonna have, like, so much shit, it’ll be great. We watch all the action movies, man, we got it figured out. We’re experts. We’re totally going to do this. It’s not just werewolves, there’s like… helicopters. And some girl stuff too, don’t worry, like there’s a science chick and some romance shit, and like… and, uh… like there’ll be scenes where people just talk. And, uh, shadows. And colors. So it’ll be cool. We’re gonna call it Primal Power. It’s gonna be badass. There’s aliens too.”
His dick was getting hard, even though Jimmy seemed to be paying no attention to it. He looked like he thought Avery might invest in this movie if he just described it well enough. Avery had literally no money, but Jimmy didn’t consider that possibility. Avery got down lower and planted his lips on it. The taste of his funky cock, mixed with faint, watered-down cologne, flooded Avery’s senses.
That got Jimmy’s attention. He looked down, seemingly surprised by what was happening. Then he moaned and his dick twitched. “No vampires in the movie, George is wrong about that, no way am I putting vampires in… oh, damn that feels good.” Avery resolved to stop responding to him at all. Jimmy would have to stop talking once his dick was fully hard and in Avery’s mouth.
It was so thick and long it didn’t even feel real at first. Soon it was hard as steel, throbbing and pulsating beneath Avery’s tongue. Avery slathered spit up and down. For the first time since he had walked in, Jimmy was quiet for a few moments.
“Oh shit, man, I can’t believe you’re doing it,” Jimmy said. He laughed. “Hey, George! He’s doin’ it!” He laughed sheepishly. “My dick’s hard.” The he moaned again and his voice broke. “Ah, fuck, fuck, my dick’s real hard.”
“It’s so big,” Avery said with a smirk and a smile. It was hard to believe how huge it was. Jimmy was a big boy, so it almost didn’t seem as big as it really was — it didn’t go all the way to his knees, for example, because he was so tall, so until Avery touched it, it didn’t seem as big as others he had touched. But now that he stroked its veiny shaft, it was clear that this was bigger than any dick he had touched before. On a short man, it would have reached to his knees and maybe even past that.
“I got a donkey dick,” Jimmy said with a silly leer, a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “That’s what Coach Marshall says.”
“He’s right.” Avery tried to deep-throat him, but it was obvious that couldn’t happen. He’d have struggled to deep-throat a cock half this size.
“You can’t do it?” Jimmy said. He shrugged and sighed. “Can you tell Elaine you did?”
“She’d just make me demonstrate it on a zucchini or something,” Avery said. “She wouldn’t believe me. She’s smaller than me, Jimmy. If I can’t deep-throat you, she can’t either.”
“Man…” He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Avery swallowed as deep as he could. He enjoyed struggling to deep-throat a man, and Jimmy was perfect. When Avery’s fingers crawled up Jimmy’s powerful chest to tweak his nipples, Jimmy’s eyes opened wide like he was shocked. He watched his pecs ripple beneath Avery’s grasp.
A painful-sounded strangled cry erupted in Jimmy’s throat. His balls crawled up in his sac, and that entire cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s mouth. The flavor of salty cum hit him just seconds before the first jet of juices hit the back of his throat. It trickled down his gullet.
“Ah shit, man, ah shit, I’m sorry!” He groaned and grabbed Avery’s head, holding him in place as he drained a massive load into Avery’s throat.
Salty sweet cum flooded Avery’s senses. He guzzled down every drop, as Jimmy continued to apologize — it soon became apparent that Elaine (and probably other girlfriends in the past) had demanded that Jimmy not shoot in her mouth. With a big dick and low-hanging balls like that, that made sense to Avery. Jimmy apparently assumed that Avery felt the same way.
Instead, Avery loved cum. He would have gladly swallowed even more of it. Its creamy richness coated his belly and the sour flavor enlivened his senses.
He sighed as he pulled back. Jimmy let out an even louder, more grandiose sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, while Avery slurped the last remnants of cum off his dick. Jimmy’s broad muscles twitched and he grunted.
“How was that?”
“Ah, hell yeah, man,” Jimmy said. His red face looked relaxed, ready to go to sleep. But he swung his legs to the ground and ran to the door again. He stepped out into the hall, cum-dripping cock still half-hard and jutting out from his hefty body. “Hey George! I did it! He couldn’t deep-throat me either, man, you were wrong! His throat isn’t infinitely big and I didn’t feel his Adam’s apple and he said the movie sounds amazing, but black guys can’t be werewolves, you dummy!”
“Jimmy! Shut up!”
Jimmy blushed as he realized he had walked out stark naked, dick still dripping fluids onto the floor. No one else was in the hall, but there was an old lady in the waiting room peering towards Jimmy as though trying to figure out if he was naked or not. She squinted through her glasses. Jimmy darted back into the massage room.
“Ah, man, that old lady totally saw my knob. Hey George! Did you see that old lady, she totally-?”
“Jimmy, shut up! Put your clothes on! Or I’m telling Elaine you’re a terrible listener.”
“Okay, fine, fine, sorry, geez,” he said. He giggled. “Oh, yeah, can you tell Elaine I take, uh, academics seriously? Tell her I study a lot. And I shower every day.”
“Just put your clothes on.” Avery sighed, glad to have Jimmy finally leave. He hadn’t even gotten his clothes all the way on, still pulling his pants up when he got distracted and ran into the hall. He shouted for George, tripped on his pants and rammed into the wall, where he knocked a painting of a lighthouse off the wall.
“Sorry,” Jimmy said absent-mindedly. He headed out into the waiting room. “He did it, George! I told you he would!”
Avery shook his head. He got out his cell phone. He was going to text Elaine something about her idiot boyfriend.

The Hick

Ray is investigating a poacher when he winds up in the legendary Smashwood Trailer Park. That’s where he meets up with the raunchiest hick around: Cody Lankford! Cody is a filthy redneck who always says “a mouth is a mouth”, which is a philosophy Ray can get behind… or underneath!

Can Ray find what he’s looking for?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Ray parked in the public lot facing the Smashwood Trailer Park in Bunson, Arkansas. He got out of his car and stretched. It had been a long drive from Little Rock.
This area was beautiful, he thought. He had passed verdant hills and sun-choked meadows that rolled into the horizon like thunderclouds. Dense forests with layers of old growth and explosions of wildlife scattered along the roadside, where little campgrounds and isolated farms were the only landmarks for miles.
But Ray wasn’t here just to sightsee. He was here for business.
When he headed into the trailer park, he was first struck by the man in boxer shorts staring at him. He was tattooed, smudged with dirt all over as though he had been used as a sponge to clean a dirty window. His hair was pale brown and hung back in a mullet that extended well below his shoulders. He wore only boxers and was covered in soap suds — he was bathing himself with a hose.
Ray nodded across the ditch that demarcated the end boundary of the trailer park. The bathing redneck nodded back. He was lean and lanky, ropy-muscled, suds covering his dusky tattoos. He rinsed, getting some of that dirt off and soaking his boxers in water and soap. He still had smudges of dirt all over, and his tanned skin looked the color of dirt anyway — or maybe he wasn’t tanned, and the dirt had been ground into his skin until he was the color of dried-out-clay.
“Howdy,” Ray said with a grin.
“Howdy stranger,” said the man, Cletus, who scratched his balls nonchalantly, as though he bathed here in these nearly-translucent white boxers every day. They were threadbare and plastered to his ropy legs with soapy water. They were plain white boxers, and, Ray suspected, prison-issue.
“I’m looking for someone named Cody Lankford,” Ray said with a smile. He extended his hand to shake, but the man just scowled. Ray added, “I’m not a police officer.”
“Don’t know ‘im.” The man turned his head away.
Ray shrugged and continued. Ray had Cody Lankford’s picture, and he was certain he was here. He thought he could find him. In any case, he didn’t believe this half-naked trashy man. Ray meandered towards a group of children playing ball. He thought maybe they would be more willing to answer. Then he heard deep-throated guffaws from the other side of a trailer.
He headed to the backside, where the trailer faced a row of trees. There stood a trio of black men. They were just as dirty as the white man upfront, wearing ratty old wifebeaters above mud-splattered jeans. One of them reeked strongly of body odor when Ray approached and wrinkled his nose.
“Whatchoo want?”
“Hey, uh, sorry for interrupting,” Ray said. They appeared to be dumping out a bucket that smelled of rubbing alcohol — was this moonshine? It looked like they were getting rid of a bad batch of moonshine. But Ray pretended not to notice. “I was looking for Cody Lankford. He-“
They all laughed, and one of the black men clutched his meaty belly beneath his wifebeater, which was formerly white but now gray like dishwater. He howled with laughter. “Cody?! You lookin’ for Cody?”
“Whatchoo want wit’ him? You studyin’ hicks?”
“He the raunchiest hick in this whole trailer park, man, you don’t want him-“
“He prolly fuckin’ a fat girl who make a face like this-” The younger black man made a funny, possibly orgasmic face, and they all guffawed. “And she got hair the color of raccoon piss, he be in there-” He pantomimed eating pussy and gagging on the taste. “Ummm…. Yum-yum, yummy in my tummy, I love eatin’ rancid snatch-“
“He prolly wallowin’ in sum mud-pit, mistuh.”
“He is nasty, right nasty. You police? He ain’t a bad fellah, just a stinky one-“
“And he loves fat-girl pussy-“
“Shut the hell up, Mane, yo’ female ain’t exactly skinny neither-“
“Least she don’t smell like a beached whale!”
“Smellin’ like a whale in the ocean ain’t that much better, Mane-“
“Like either of you two niggas ever see a whale. You never even seen the ocean-“
“He seen a whale! He eat whale pussy up!”
Ray walked away. It seemed this argument was going to continue indefinitely. He heard them laughing and arguing over who fucked fatter women. Ray had no interest in that. At least he knew he was on the right track.
He was surprised that nobody had reacted like Cody Lankford was a bad guy. They had asked if he was police, but that was probably pretty typical for around here. They hadn’t reacted like they were scared of him, or like Ray could have been a rival gangbanger, or like Ray should just run away. The inescapable conclusion was that they didn’t see Cody as a threat.
He headed deeper into the trailer park. He saw a bevy of haggard women who appeared to be smoking meth, but Ray didn’t want to talk to them — it was clear they wouldn’t give useful information anyway, they were hazed out and dim. He saw a fat man in holey white briefs guzzling vodka from a bottle as he picked shards of broken glass from his foot. But Ray just continued. He thought he should walk through the whole park before deciding on what to do next. He stopped only when he heard an engine roaring, coming closer. It was zippy, buzzy, not rumbly like a car.
It was a dirtbike.
Ray turned around just in time to see a shirtless white man in a tangled blond mullet approach on the back of a mud-splattered dirtbike. The dirtbike was slowing down, and the blond man guffawed as he came to a stop near Ray.
“Goddamn hell!” the blond man said. He hopped off the dirtbike. Ray couldn’t tell if he was talking to him, or just plain talking. It was weird to stop next to a stranger in a trailer park as though continuing a conversation with him. “It was chokin’, I swear it was chokin’ like Chucky gobblin’ cock. I gotta get back in the engine and fix it up, I don’t like it chokin’ when I’s out runnin’, swear to God! That was a good run, I say! Woo-hoo!” He looked at Ray as though he had only just now realized he didn’t know him. “Who are you?”
“I’m Ray.”
“Cody.”
“Hi, Cody,” Ray said.
Cody had deep dimples which belied the trashy look, and he was well-muscled though short, wiry like he struggled to gain weight. His hair was unwashed, his furry armpits glistening with sweat. His body was splattered with wet clumps of mud that dripped off him as he brought the dirtbike to a tattered trailer. He flopped onto a lawnchair.
There appeared to be more mud on him as well, not only the wet mud from the dirtbike ride he had just finished. He had been muddy even before then. He had never bathed from last night, when his boss made him come over to start assembling a gazebo. He had bought all the wood and the plans, and Cody started work on it until the rain got too bad and he went home.
“You Donna’s brother?” Cody asked after a brief pause, nodding towards one of the trailers next to his own. He spread his legs in his rank jeans as he settled down in his lawn chair. He pulled out a pouch of tobacco and rolling papers, and he began to roll a cigarette of his own.
“No, I don’t know Donna,” Ray said. “I think I came here to talk to you. You Cody Lankford?”
“Aaaaah, man… I swear, I know that bitch ain’t have my baby, okay? She wasn’t even pregnant like three months after we fucked, okay? I swear, I’ll do a DNA test, no pro’lem-“
“No, it’s not that,” Ray said. “Two years ago, you were arrested with a gun. A Beretta M9-“
“Hey, I did my time, man. I don’t drink neither, ask my parole officer. I see him e’ry other week. I don’t give ‘im no trouble neither, nosuh-“
“Yes, yes, that’s fine. I just wanted to know what happened to the gun.”
Cody paused and raised his eyebrows like he thought this was a trick question. “I got arrested, man. I ain’t have a license for the gun. The police took it.”
“So what happened to it?”
“It sat in a evidence locker till I pled guilty.”
“Then?”
Cody shrugged. “I dunno. Never thought about it. Don’t they auction that shit?”
“They don’t auction guns, no. Police don’t want to spread them around, and plus they can’t be sure you didn’t modify it to make it more likely to malfunction.”
“I ain’t modify shit, mothahfuckah. What’s this about?”
“A few months ago, that gun was used to kill an elephant. Someone shot the elephant nine times in the head,” Ray said. “A poacher who just wanted the ivory, left the elephant to rot in the grass. That’s what I do, I’m hunting down ivory poachers-“
“What?”
“I’m just trying to find what happened to that gun. I matched the ballistics through an Interpol search of convicted-“
“What? You accusin’ me of shootin’ a elephant?”
“No! Not you, I know you didn’t do it. I already investigated you. You don’t even have a passport.”
“That’s right, shit…”
“I guess somebody with the police department must have taken the gun,” Ray said. “Either a cop or someone in the evidence room. They probably took all the guns that were supposed to be destroyed and sold them. Do you have any thoughts on who might have done that?”
Cody’s smiling face had gone dour and frowning. He glared at Ray. “I ain’t… I don’t work wit’ police.”
“I’m not the police. I’m hoping to get a cop arrested. That’s the opposite of what police do-“
“I know. But it’s still kinda like bein’ a cop — it’s a con-undrum.” Cody sounded like he had never said that word before. “I don’t help the police arrest no one. No snitchin’ is a rule we gots around here, boy. It’s a rule we take mighty serious.” He spat on the ground, some of it landing on his ankle. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He took a deep drag off his home-rolled cigarette. His scruffy beard hairs wiggled as he inhaled. “I dunno if it applies if the person gettin’ arrested is a police officer too.”
“Well, I can’t arrest anyone-“
“Man, you tuggin’ on my shit and tellin’ me it ain’t a turd,” Cody said. “You workin’ to solve a crime, right? ‘Round here, man solve his own crime. If’n you think someone done killed an elephant, you take the fight to him. Don’t go gettin’ po-lice involved, nosir.”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“I’ll do that. I’m not really looking to arrest whoever this is. I’d settle for making sure everyone knows they’re an elephant poacher, and maybe kicking a little ass. What do you think?”
“Man… jerk me off,” Cody said with an absent-minded sigh. He hobbled out of his chair, his big fleshy body shaking. He flexed his biceps and punched his own palm.
“Whip it out then.”
Cody didn’t seem to be listening. He went into the trailer and rummaged around. He finally emerged with a stack of papers. “Here. The fellah who signed my evidence out of storage was named Robin Thorne — oh…” Cody had clearly just realized something, but he didn’t say it.
“What happened? You know him?”
“He… Man, I don’t like folks who pry into anothah man’s business. I just… I know he got a side business dealin’. He know folks who might could know other folks who might could buy some guns now and then. Ain’t sayin’ nothin’ more, mistuh, and you can jerk me off, shit…” Cody went pale and guffawed nervously as he realized only then that when he said “jerk ne off” a few moment ago, Ray had told him to whip it out. Cody said “jerk me off” so often it threw him for a loop that Ray had taken it literally.
“I said, whip it out,” Ray said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
Cody shifted his weight between his big meaty feet. His pecs rippled. He frowned. “What?”
“You keep demanding I jerk you off. But you have to take it out,” Ray said. “I promise I won’t let anyone know you put me onto Mr. Thorne. It’s in the court papers, so I didn’t technically need anyone to tell me. I could have found that out myself, if I had known to look.”
“Hmmm.” Cody blushed and laughed uproariously. He clutched his belly. “You serious ‘bout swallowin’ my dick, mistuh? Cuz I don’t mess around ‘bout that-“
Ray dropped to his knees right there at the side of Cody’s trailer. He opened his mouth. Then he nodded to the trailer next to it. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private-“
“Nah. Donna’s gone. She in jail for a week,” Cody said. He swaggered back and forth, trying to work up the courage to do it. He loved dome, and he even loved getting them from men — he didn’t much care — a mouth was a mouth was a mouth, after all, that was what his pappy always said.
“Oh. Okay then,” Ray said. He liked the idea of kneeling in the mud and servicing Cody’s filthy body anyway. Cody reeked of sweat, but it wasn’t foul — it was fresh, recent from the dirtbike-ride he had just finished. His jeans were more rank, like they hadn’t been washed in months. Ray could smell layers of sweat that had soaked into the denim. Mud splattered all over him, weighing down those jeans.
“You serious ‘bout swallowin’ sum dick? Sheeit, man, sheeit…” Cody cackled. He took another drag off his home-rolled cigarette and undid his fly. His cock flopped out and slapped Ray in the face. Cody chuckled, making his dick bounce up and down and jab Ray in the nose. It smelled especially strongly of crotch-sweat, filthy manhood and stale funk. Somehow a few drops of mud had gotten in there and stuck to his dickshaft.
But Ray certainly didn’t mind. He enjoyed his honkies rough-and-tumble and as dirty as they came. Cody certainly seemed to live up to his reputation as the raunchiest honky in the trailer park, so Ray put his cocktip in his mouth and suckled loudly.
“Goddamn, boy!” Cody bellowed, a little overconfidence in his voice, like he was covering up his own discomfort with bluster. He shook his ass back and forth, swaying like a stripper and making Ray follow his cock with his mouth. “You was serious ‘bout this shit. You ain’t even thinkin’ twice, swear to God. You like dirty boys?”
Ray nodded without pulling Cody’s dick out. It slowly firmed up as it rubbed against his tongue, and Ray slathered it with spit. He ran down the shaft, bit by bit, making eye contact with Cody’s shocked face the whole way, until soon he was nuzzling that coppery pubic hair that scratched at Ray’s cheeks and lips.
“Holy sheeit, boy! Goddamn!” Cody smiled. He wished he had struggled to get hard — not because he wanted to be impotent, he just wanted it to look like Cody had to concentrate. Cody’s father had once said — where Cody could overhear — that he let his buddy jerk him off on a camping trip but that it took him forever to get hard. That sounded manly, Cody had thought, like he didn’t even want to do it but his cock was powerful he couldn’t deprive someone of its salty load, so he felt obligated to oblige.
That was what Cody wanted to be like. His pa was in prison for shooting a cop on a jet-ski, but Cody still idolized him.
Ray moved to licking Cody’s shaft, his tongue curling over its thickness and sucking off the mud that had splattered there. Cody threw his head back, ran his fingers through his tangled, knotted mullet and howled. He beat on his chest, making sweat and something sour — old fruit juice or maybe beer that had spilled on his furred skin some time ago — ran down to Ray’s face. It was sweet but rancid on Ray’s tongue like hot garbage baking in a dumpster, and he guzzled it down.
Then Ray moved lower. He was in a mood for some serious raunch today, and he more he drank of Cody’s filth, the more he wanted.
Cody was shocked that Ray wanted to jerk him off. The trailer park sissy around here always made Cody shower first. That was the most common reason Cody showered — or sprayed himself with the hose, since he didn’t actually have running water in his trailer. He had sold the copper pipes for money years ago, figuring that the hose outside would do just fine.
“Hang on, hoss, lemme get a beer,” Cody said. He only ever let that local perv jerk him off when he’d been drinking, so doing it sober this time, he thought, was probably why he felt weird about it. He reached for the cooler in the shade underneath his trailer and popped the top on a can of beer. He barely drank from it, cuz he was focused on the pleasure arising from his cock.
Ray lowered his head to Cody’s balls, which were even more foul. They had a medicinal scent from the talcum powder Cody used — that was the only bit of personal hygiene he actually did even when he had no meeting with his parole officer or mother to prepare for, because his balls got mad-sweaty until it felt like they had become saltwater.
So his balls smelled and tasted of chalky medicine, though that flavor disappeared quickly in Ray’s mouth, replaced by the sour taste of sweaty balls. His sac was hairy and moist, his balls full and heavy, spreading to fill Ray’s mouth with the flavor of unadulterated, unwashed, unclean manhood.
Ray kept licking until he was sucking on Cody’s taint, sliding through his legs and necessitating Cody to spread his feet as though being arrested. Then Cody turned around. He’d never gotten anyone to lick his ass before. He never even tried — people called him a filthy hick since he was a boy — he didn’t think it was possible for someone to want to lick his ass.
It was thick and hairy and fleshy and a bit reddish from having sat on the rumbling dirtbike for so long. Ray didn’t mind the foul stink emanating from it — that, he thought, was the purest expression of manhood. He loved the struggle of getting through it, of exploring the folds of funk and stench that exploded with every tickle of his tongue into Cody’s tight crack.
“Goddam, boy, you gonna put me to shame! I think we gots a new nastiest mothahfuckah in the park!”
He’d never been rammed, fingered or even rimmed, so his asshole was tight, choked with tangled blackish-blond hairs. Ray’s tongue rammed in quickly, unceremoniously, so thick it stretched Cody’s asshole and made him grunt.
“Shit, damn! You lick like a mutt lookin’ fo’ peanut buttuh on the ground, goddamn!” Cody laughed. He couldn’t decide if it felt good. It had a certain pleasurable quality to it, a deep-burning pit of sensation that roiled within him as his prostate was stimulated for the first time. But it was also kind of like getting rammed with a moist, fleshy dildo, he thought, and there was just a bit of stretching pain.
He was so focused on that that he didn’t realize it made his dick throb and leak copious precum. Cody pounded on the wall of his own trailer, spreading his legs wider and then using one hand to spread his ass the best he could. That gave Ray perfect access to chow down on his hairy crack.
Ray’s entire face was lost in his plump asscheeks. Ray gagged a few times as he lapped at the hair that rubbed against his face. There was so much flavor here, he thought with a giggle. He could have kept tasting it all day, even if it was disgusting. The disgust, he thought, was the best part.
But Ray didn’t want to leave without getting it up the ass. He pulled away, leaving behind such moisture and a sense of desire in Cody’s undulating body that Cody didn’t even notice right away.
“Whatchoo doin’, boy? Get ya tongue back in there, swear to God-” Cody turned around and his eyes opened wide at the sight of Ray’s tight asshole beckoning. Ray backed up and rubbed his asscheeks against Cody’s shaft.
Cody grumbled. He’d only rammed a man in the ass a few times, and he had been drunk enough then he hadn’t remembered it — he only knew because his friends made fun of him for it the next day. But Cody was hard and he had never before turned down a nut.
So he grimaced, stroked his dick one time and wedged it into Ray’s asscrack. He was glad it was smooth and clean. Cody was neither of those things, but if he was going to ram a man in the ass, he was glad it was a man whose ass was smooth and pristine like Ray’s.
The one nice thing about plowing men, Cody thought, was that you could really ram into them. Wrinkling his nose and whinnying like a horse, Cody pressed down on Ray’s back to keep him in position.
“Gettin’ in ya dirt road now, boy, damn! Gimme ya hands!” Cody took Ray’s hands in his and held onto them, forcing Ray to lay his head on the muddy ground with his ass in the air. Cody slipped his cocktip in and shook his head, making his mullet waver. “Goddamn, boy, don’t fight me now! If you want me to stop, say it!”
“Don’t stop! Oh god, don’t stop!”
Cody had dropped his beer, which now spilled out. He frowned — he had spilled most of his first beer of the day. It put him in a foul mood because he couldn’t afford “enough” beer, so he often had to buy that disgusting moonshine from the black men in the front of the park — and that stuff, he thought, would eventually make him go blind. So he didn’t want to waste beer, even this piss-cheap nasty shit that spilled out into the mud and trickled into Ray’s face.
Cody’s bare foot was just inches from Ray’s face. He lifted Ray’s ass to use it like a sex-toy, ramming his dick in and squealing with delight as Ray squirmed beneath him. It felt better than any female he’d ever been with, Cody thought as his cock slid all the way in and out with just the right amount of resistance, enough to make Ray clench and send waves of pleasure through Cody’s body.
A howl and a hoot escaped from Cody’s chest. He tried to spit on his dick to provide more lube, but he plowed back and forth too energetically for that, moving all around the muddy grass between his trailer and Donna’s. Ray could do little more than undulate with pleasure as he was dragged this way and that by the asshole.
Someone he ended up mostly underneath Donna’s trailer, in the little crawlspace there surrounded by water pipes and electrical wires. Cody hadn’t meant to go under here, it was just where he had ended up, and it felt right, hiding underneath a trailer in the dirt. Ray’s face was pressed into the dirt, smashing onto a worm as it tried to wriggle away.
“Oh god! Shit!” Ray shouted out loud, the sound resonant and ringing in the little crawlspace. He could barely reach his dick, but he got enough of a hold on it to stroke himself off, instantly triggering the orgasm his body had been waiting for since Cody’s knobbly dick hit his prostate.
He sprayed cum all over the muddy clay beneath Donna’s trailer. He tightened up as Cody orgasmed as well, then relaxed, letting Cody’s cock shoot the most massive load of his life deep into Ray’s guts. It spilled into him, seeping through his flesh like syrup, creaminess flowing through every nook and cranny of his body.
Cody lifted his head to howl once more, a few drops of drool dripping onto Ray’s shoulders as he did. He painfully banged his head into the trailer above and winced. “Damn-” he pounded on Ray’s ass, the pain in his head overshadowed by the intense climax flowing through his veins. “Take it, man, don’t spill none, don’t move, don’t move, shit, shit…” His breath condensed on Ray’s tense face.
He pinned Ray in position as he emptied those rank, unwashed balls into Ray’s guts. He had never gotten to cum like that, he thought as he watched his cock throb, shooting all the way into a woman’s tight ass.
“Ah, shit…”
“Hmmmm…” Ray sighed, but even that motion was enough to reawaken his orgasm and make him twitch. He was painfully sensitive right now, but he loved every minute of it. Cody’s dick limpened as it marinated in Ray’s cummy asshole, which clenched around it.
“Gonna make you dirty, boy,” Cody said, snorting and whispering right into Ray’s ear. When he saw Ray moan, Cody spat on his face and smeared the fluids all over his cheeks and nose. That made Ray gag and his asshole tighten once more.
Cody kept plowing. Girls never let him do this. It was arduous and painful for Cody, whose dick was soft now. But he liked doing it anyway. He bit his lip and rocked back and forth, turning his load into a big frothy, bubbly mess that coated Ray’s ass.
Ray squirmed as he felt cum slide out of his behind. He was delirious with the pleasure still rocking him in waves. His ass was a giant puddle of cum now, and he loved every moment of it. The heat of Cody’s load seeped through Ray’s flesh.
At last, it was done. Cody’s dick popped out, and Ray let out the loudest sigh of relief ever. He sprawled out in the dirt beneath Donna’s trailer.
Cody climbed out with a hefty chortle. His asscheeks rippled and his back muscles all flexed as he stretched, his goopy dick dangling between his legs. He gave it one last stroke and roared, then wiped his hand clean on Donna’s trailer, leaving behind a whitish-brown mixture of cum, mud and who knew what else. He laughed. She would be furious about that if she had seen it.
“Remember, prettyboy, don’t tell no one I gave you no kinda help,” Cody said. He kicked gently at Ray’s feet. “You hear me under there?”
From under the trailer Ray called out, “Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you later.”
Cody chuckled as he walked away. “Tha’ss right, bitch,” he said.

The Trucker

Rob is in for a rough time when he stops at a Ramwide Truck Stop. That’s a chain whose locations are known for no-holds-barred man-on-man action, which is exactly what Rob is hoping for?

Can he handle the studly Southern trucker that the Ramwide is sending him?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Rob walked to the truck stop. He sometimes drove there, but he wanted to get some exercise. The older he got, the more difficult it was to inspire him to take walks, but he insisted on doing it every day no matter what. This way, he’d get his walk in while doing something else he wanted to do.
The truck stop outside of Norbilly, Oklahoma, didn’t usually see a lot of use. It did back in the seventies, when Norbilly was a major manufacturing center, with factories and trucks streaming in and out of town. Those factories were all gone now, the worker housing torn down, trucks no longer coming to town at all.
But there was definitely a truck there today, or there would be soon — Rob thought he would probably beat the trucker there. He had seen the truck drive into the All-Mart in town, and he caught a glimpse of the trucker as he brought merchandise into the back of the store. The trucker hadn’t finished unloading yet when Rob started walking to the truck-stop.
The trucker was a tall, broad-shouldered redneck in a flannel shirt with cut-off sleeves, chest bulging out of his clothes, a big cock that barely fit in his scuffed jeans. He had an unkempt beard and deep-set eyes. Rob had seen him at the All-Mart, and he had a feeling that the man would stop at the truck stop before heading out. He fully intended to be there.
It was a Ramwide Truck Stop. Everyone knew that that meant — at least, everyone who was a trucker or who liked jerking truckers off. That included Rob.
He was glad that no one was there when he finally got to the truck stop, and he was glad to have a few minutes to recover his breath. It didn’t seem like a far way to walk when he drove it, but actually walking it was more difficult. The last part was uphill. He sat down near one of the showerhouses to regain his breath, and he bought a bottle of water from the vending machine.
His timing was impeccable. About fifteen minutes after he arrived, the All-Mart truck came barreling down the highway. At first it looked like he wouldn’t get off into the truck stop, but at the last moment he swerved into the offramp lane.
Not wanting to seem like a stalker, Rob waited in the bushes behind the truck stop showerhouse. There were two showerhouses, one for women, but it didn’t see much use. Rob went to the men’s showerhouse, which was a small concrete rectangle that smelled of athlete’s foot cream and armpit hair.
Rob hadn’t gone in yet. He waited in the bushes behind the parking lot. He saw the trucker get out of the cab of the truck, stretch and yawn, then head into the showerhouse.
That was Rob’s cue. He casually walked around to the front of the building. He knew it would look suspicious since he wasn’t a trucker himself — and he didn’t even have a car parked here — but he didn’t think the trucker would worry about that.
When he walked into the showerhouse, he got hit with that humid, showery scent that always made Rob hard because he associated it with naked men. There was a sign on the door explaining that this showerhouse was for adults with an interest in hardcore plowing (it used more polite language, but that was the gist). Inside it smelled of semen and body hair and piss, sweat, saliva and linoleum, with the faint afterscent of cheap soap.
The trucker stood there at one of the open showering areas — the old-fashioned pillar kind, with a central column that sprayed water in every direction, so the bathers were expected to stand around it in a circle. He hadn’t taken off any of his clothes yet, not even his heavy boots, so there were muddy bootprints leading from the door to the shower.
The shower wasn’t on though. The trucker just stood there with those filthy jeans around his ankles, hairy ass flapping in the breeze, as he let loose with piss. Even though there was a bank of urinals against one wall, he pissed onto the drain in the showering area.
He turned around, belched and flopped his dick between his fingers, the last few drops of piss soaking into his skin. He didn’t seem to mind. He was surprised to see Rob standing there. He grunted a hello.
“Hi,” Rob said. “My name is Rob.”
The trucker grunted again but didn’t say anything.
Rob said, “I love your muscles, you must work out a lot. Great physique.”
The trucker nodded like a hill. He pumped his right bicep. He had never redone the fly of his jeans, so his cock flopped out of his hairy crotch. He had big, curvy biceps that Rob darted forward to lick.
The taste was sour with dried-on sweat and dust from the road, flavored with diesel exhaust and the trucker’s natural odor. His arm was hairy, and his fur scratched at Rob’s tongue. He pulled his arm away.
“You one of dem truck stop queers?”
Rob nodded. “Can I jerk you off?”
He curled his upper lip as though he had to think about it, though Rob had the strong impression he already knew the answer was yes. “You nasty.”
“That wasn’t a no,” Rob said. He sidled forward, but the trucker snarled.
“Weren’t no yes neither,” he said. “You swallow?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lemme see,” he said. “Suck my finger.” He held out his middle-finger as though he was flipping Rob off.
Rob blushed and nodded. He would gladly suck on any body part this nasty, raunchy trucker wanted him to suck on. He stepped forward and moved seductively, opening his mouth into an O-shape even before he got to the trucker’s hand.
He easily deep-throated the man’s middle-finger. Rob was good at it, so he could get the whole thing into his throat without choking, and he even pushed forward farther as though trying to get the man’s entire hand in his mouth. That, of course, didn’t work, but he did force the trucker’s index finger in as well. The taste was sour and salty from sweat.
It looked like the trucker was about to take his finger away. Rob moved his head. But then the trucker angrily rammed his finger back in, so deep Rob couldn’t help but choke. A fresh explosion of grimy-skin flavor hit Rob’s tongue.
He cackled and pushed Rob back. “I only ram males one way, dig? I fuck girls any way they want — nice, slow, hard, fast, I don’t care. I’ll do anything to get my dick wet in some lady-pussy. But I only ram males if they don’t mind gettin’ nasty. That describe you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Don’chu dare back out once we start. You understan’ me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’m-a ram yer tonsils, and I’m-a ram yer ass. You gonna lick some asshole too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“T’weren’t a question.” He spat on the linoleum floor of the showerhouse.
“Will you spit on me, sir?”
“What?”
“Your spit smells so bad. Spit on my face and in my throat. Please,” Rob said, quaking and blushing. “You’re such a superior alpha male. I need to feel you use me and abuse me. I need-“
He lightly slapped Rob, just hard enough to make a loud slapping sound. A twinge of pain ran up his face, and a twinge of desire ran up his spine. Rob stopped talking.
“Don’t tell me ‘bout your needs, cumbucket,” the trucker said. “You ain’t a girl, I ain’t gotta listen as you babble on ’bout what you want.”
“Yes, sir.”
He bristled and shifted his weight on his feet. “Now it so happens I was gonna spit on yer face. Not cuz you axt me to though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get on your knees and open your mouth,” he said. He hocked up a loogie, then displayed his rancid mouth full of saliva and phlegm. He hocked again as Rob sunk to his weak knees. He was excited, giddy even, to be doing this — it had been awhile since he bagged a redneck trucker. He opened his mouth and aimed it upward. The trucker formed a kissy face, then let his mouthful of fluids slop out. It plopped moistly into Rob’s mouth, some of it landing on his lower lip. “No swallowin’, bitch.”
The trucker watched Rob squirm with his arms crossed over his chest. He inserted his middle finger back into Rob’s mouth, making him gag this time as he smeared his own spit all over Rob’s tongue. It was foul, fetid, rancid, but it made Rob’s dick so hard he thought it might explode.
“Beg me to let you swallow it.”
“Pleashe? I want your filshe in muh belluh,” Rob said the best he could with a mouth full of moisture. Some of it spilled out onto his cheeks.
The trucker spat again, this time aiming it right for Rob’s nose. It plopped there, sending a fresh wave of that musky scent into Rob’s nostrils. Rob pulled his cock out of his jeans. The trucker glanced at it and scrunched up his nose as though he was going to make Rob stop masturbating, then didn’t.
“You may swallow.”
Rob smacked his lips and let that big ball of fluids flow down his throat. He gurgled as it settled in his belly, warm and moist and a bit nauseating, but he loved it just the same.
“What should I call you, sir?” Rob asked with a gasp. He left his mouth open and stuck his tongue out as though begging for more spit.
“My friends call me Rectum,” he said. “Cuz when I done see bitches with they ass in the air, I wrecked ‘em.” He cackled. “But you keep callin’ me sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I like that. Normally ain’t no one call me sir ‘cept prison guards,” he said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Take off your clothes and dance,” he said. “Shake your ass in my face. Wink your asshole.”
Rob nodded and stood up. He was about to take off his shirt when the trucker grabbed him by the neck. He squeezed just hard enough to make it hard to breathe.
“When I tell you to do somethin’, you say yes. Use your words. Don’t just nod at me like I’s a bitch. I ain’t a bitch, and I definitely ain’t yer bitch.” He let go and threw Rob to the ground.
“Yes, sir, I apologize,” Rob said, gasping for air. “It’s just that you’re such a real man, and I’m such a weakling, I find you intimidating and scary. You’re so much bigger and stronger than me.”
He nodded. “That’s understandable.” He belched right in Rob’s face. “Must feel pretty shitty to be a worthless excuse for a man.”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said as he took his shirt off. He dropped his pants while the trucker finally did the same, revealing a massive, broad chest and trunk-like thighs. His body was matted with hair. His skin was dusky and dark — he was clearly white, just swarthy and tanned, not to mention dirty. There were smudges of engine grease on his chest muscles.
Rob had seduced more than a few truckers in his younger days, so he thought he knew what the trucker wanted next. He bared his ass, facing away so as to avoid reminding the trucker he had no tits or a pussy. He stuck his ass in the air, winking his asshole as he slipped his pinkie finger in. He grimaced as though he was so tight that his tiny finger hurt.
“Nice,” said the trucker. “I ain’t gonna shower. We gonna be dirty. No point in gettin’ clean first, reckon.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Come here and kiss my feet. Then you can jerk me off,” he said.
Rob crawled over the dirty floor on his hands and knees. He made it to the bench on which the trucker sat, and lowered his head to the trucker’s burly feet. There were a few scattered hairs over the top of the foot and his toes.
He didn’t just kiss, he licked, the whole foot from toe to ankle. He got up every drop of grimy boot-flavor, the scent of leather and sweat, distilled musk so potent it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. He could have cum just from that, jacking himself off as he licked every inch of the trucker’s foot.
Then he traveled up the man’s leg, from his calf to his knee to his thigh. The hairs grew increasingly dense, thick and coarse as he went, and the man’s body grew fleshier, meatier the farther upwards his tongue voyaged. He collected a layer of dried sweat on his tongue, which he swallowed, smacking his lips and displaying an empty mouth to the trucker.
He just grunted, and aimed his dicktip into Rob’s mouth. An explosion of intense cock-taste hit his senses. Rob gurgled. He hocked up a mouth full of spit of his own, and he let it run down that limp cockshaft. Rob slathered spit up and down the shaft.
It didn’t stay limp for long. The trucker groaned and grunted. His muscular upper body roiled. Rob got the impression he had intended to complain that Rob didn’t do it right — that he was going to complain, maybe smack him, and throat him violently — but Rob did slurp, slather and lick just right, so there was nothing to complain about. Rob always did it right.
He had his nose buried deep in the trucker’s cock even before he got totally hard, and he kept it there as the trucker’s meat turned into an iron rod in his neck. It strained and throbbed, making Rob choke and sputter.
But that was exactly how he liked it. He enjoyed the struggle to swallow a massive cock, and he loved being throated hard. He grabbed the trucker’s hairy asscheeks with both hands.
That was the universal signal for ram my face as hard as you can and the trucker picked up on it. He chortled and wrapped his own hands around Rob’s head. He interlaced his fingers in Rob’s hair on the back of his head. He belched, the sound and the vibrations rumbling through his body and his cock in Rob’s throat.
He let Rob take one deep breath, then the trucker rammed his dick all the way in until his balls flopped onto Rob’s chin. His ball-sweat was slick and greasy, sticking to Rob’s skin. He groaned and closed his eyes.
His nose squashed into the trucker’s hairy crotch. Rob inhaled deeply of it, lungs crying out for oxygen as that massive cock throbbed in his throat.
“Don’t let go, swallow that dick, damn…” the trucker said, his eyes closed. He sighed. Rob could sense the waves of pleasure moving up the man’s body from his cock, as Rob’s throat spasmed and squeezed around it. Tears welled up in Rob’s eyes. “Ten more seconds, bitch.”
He held up one hand, his other keeping a tight grip on Rob’s head. He very slowly counted off with his finger, lifting one finger up. Once he got all five fingers, he did it again with the same hand. He hesitated with the tenth finger, teasing Rob for as long as he could take it.
Rob’s face turned red, and he was dizzy from lack of oxygen. Still, he loved the feeling of a giant slab of man-meat filling up his throat. The difficulty of swallowing the whole thing made it a challenge that he enjoyed, and his submission meant he could let his alpha solve the challenge. All Rob had to do was open wide and submit.
They both jumped — and the trucker’s cock pulsated in Rob’s throat — when a burst of music filled the air. It was that “Ding-dong! The Witch Is Dead!” song from The Wizard of Oz. The trucker snarled.
He pulled his dick out, and Rob gasped loudly for air. His lungs cried out, his ribs twisted painfully. He heaved to regain his breath.
“It’s my ex-wife. She’s a fuckin’ bitch.” He answered the phone, while using one of his fingers to beckon Rob. He made Rob sit on the ground, resting his head back on the bench. “Hey,” he said into the phone, as he plopped his plump ass right on Rob’s face. His asscrack was slick with sweat and hair that was matted to his flesh. Rob inhaled deeply of that scent. He cringed and crooned.
He stuck his tongue out, getting a taste of that hot flesh. Sweat trickled onto his tongue. The showerhouse was warm and humid, so it had been collecting there, filth building up and clinging to the trucker’s body. Rob licked it all up, listening to the rumble of him on the phone with his wife.
The trucker’s dominance was gone. He was submissive now. His voice was clipped, anxious, like he was angry but had to hide it from her. Rob couldn’t hear every word, but he picked up a lot of what the trucker said.
“Sorry, baby, I gotta be on the move, you know that. I gave you advance notice, like I’s s’posed to. She understood, and we still got- Uh-huh. Well, baby, you know I sent it. First of the month. Was only yesterday, I’m sure it’ll get there.”
Rob’s tongue slipped into the trucker’s asshole at last. A burst of raw masculinity coated his tongue, silky and gooey, pure manhood flowing down his throat. It was sour and gritty and overwhelming, and he stopped listening to the conversation as its tenor grew more and more angry.
The trucker responded to Rob licking too. He groaned and shifted his weight, plopping his asshole directly onto Rob’s mouth so he could explore the inside of the trucker’s ass. He slathered so much spit there that it spilled out and coated Rob’s face. It dripped onto the bench beneath his head.
“Nah. You ain’t allowed to do that, Christine. It’s in the- What? That ain’t true, and it don’t matter neither. You ain’t in charge of my life. You know that ain’t true. You spreadin’ lies. Don’t you say that!” His body tensed, and his asshole clenched around Rob’s tongue. Rob reached around and gave his dick a stroke, which made the trucker’s entire body spasm. He began to rub his ass back and forth over Rob’s head, filling his own ass with Rob’s tongue as he bellowed into the phone. “Well fuck you then! You think I can’t get a lawyer?! My custody rights ain’t somethin’ you dole out when it’s convenient, Christine! You agreed to that schedule, and you knew what it was then! You knew I was a trucker, don’t pretend I sprung that on you last week! I can’t just switch my days off! I’m in fuckin’ Oklahoma!” He took a deep breath. “Listen, go fuck yourself, Christine. Fuck yourself with that Swedish’s retard’s cock, see if I care. If she ain’t waitin’ for me on Friday, I’ll see you in court.” He hung up the phone and turned it off. He growled and got his ass off Rob’s face, then he grumbled and smacked Rob’s ass-slickened face softly. “Females are the worst.”
“Yes, sir. I don’t like women much at all,” Rob said. He liked talking shit about guys with women, and despite his friendships, he was utterly confident that he would hate dating them. “They’re such bitches.” He felt a little bad, but his female friends would understand. They knew what kind of guys he was into, and frankly, they were glad that he kept these sort of men from getting too frisky.
“Uh-huh,” the trucker said with a throaty chuckle. “But damned if I don’t love pussy.” He dragged Rob into position, bending him over the bench with his ass in the air. “Fuck. Ain’t no female let me just go to town on her like you do. I ain’t a bad lover, mind you, I eat pussy. I eat pussy good, I swear.” He grabbed Rob by the hair and lifted his head up. He stuck two fingers out in front of his face and licked. “See? I lick pussy real good. Stick it all the way in.” He showed off how long his tongue was.
“Sir, if I could make a suggestion…” Rob wasn’t sure he would be allowed to say anything. “Women don’t want to be penetrated with a tongue.”
It looked like the trucker was about to tell Rob he just wanted to ram him, not have a real conversation. But he stopped with his dick throbbing between Rob’s cheeks, right atop his asshole.
“What?”
“When you lick a woman’s pussy, don’t stick your tongue as far in as you can,” Rob said. “Just lick her clitoris. That’s the part that feels good.”
“You ain’t s’posed to stick yer tongue in ‘em?”
“Not really. A little bit is fine, it’s not really a bad thing. But you should lick her clit, not her pussy.”
“Her clit’s in her pussy.”
“Uh… No it isn’t,” Rob said. He blushed. “You really shouldn’t be learning about female anatomy from me. The clit is above the pussy, not in it. Lick that.”
“That don’t make any sense. You gotta stick yer tongue in, that’s what fuckin’ is-“
“No, you don’t. Look, ‘Rectum’, or whatever, do whatever you want. You could even ask a girl where she wants your tongue,” Rob said. “I don’t care. I’d rather have you sexually frustrated so you keep plowing dudes. But if you’re gonna eat some pussy, that’s where you should eat it.”
The trucker was quiet for a moment. He grumbled. “I don’t like it when my bitch speaks so forwardly. If you takin’ dick, shut yer mouth and take it.”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said. He rubbed his asshole up and down on Rectum’s dick.
“Good.” He slipped his cock in, just the tip at first. Then he gritted his teeth, grabbed Rob’s shoulders to hold him in place and worked his dick in inch by inch. “No squirmin’ yet. Don’t move. Hey! Don’t move.” He smacked Rob’s asscheeks every time he moved or made a sound.
The pain was incredible, and the dim, mounting sense of pleasure beneath it all was even more intense, even if it was faint at first. Rob moaned. He loved making sounds because it caused the trucker to smack his ass, which sent an additional wave of desire through Rob’s body.
He plumped his entire cock in without pulling out one time. He just kept grinding and forcing it until his balls smacked against Rob’s ass. The pressure was unimaginably potent, making Rob gasp and squirm no matter how the trucker tried to keep him still.
“Please, fill me up! God yes! I love your cock! It’s so big!” Rob moaned breathlessly. A few tears came to his eyes.
“I know,” the trucker said. “But keep tellin’ me.” He pulled on Rob’s hair with one hand, while using his other to keep Rob’s head in place. He swayed his hips back and forth, teasing every inch of Rob’s insides with his massive cock. It was arduously painful until his touched Rob’s prostate, which sent a wave of bliss through Rob’s body, a sensation so intense it made all the pain up till now vanish from his mind.
Rob melted into a weak pile of submissive flesh. This, he thought, was the part he loved. He couldn’t control any part of his body. He was entirely on autopilot, ass open wider than he thought possible so the trucker could pound away at him. His limbs flailed, mouth gasping, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the air.
“Can you squeal like a piggie?” the trucker asked. He pulled on Rob’s hair, dragging his head upward until they were so close they could nearly kiss.
The feeling of his foot-long cock in Rob’s ass made it difficult to concentrate. The trucker stopped moving and repeated his question, directly into Rob’s ear. His hot breath condensed on Rob’s face.
“Oiiiiiink…” Rob moaned.
“Better. Louder. More pig-like.”
“Oink. Oink! Oink! Oink!” Rob screamed increasingly louder each time. When he did, his asshole clenched, sending waves of agony through his body and pleasure through the trucker’s.
“Yeah, you is one nasty bottom,” the trucker said with a groan. He slammed his cock in and out while Rob continued to make pig-like rutting sounds.
Soon the sensations were too extreme for Rob to make any focused sounds, so all he could do was moan and squirm. The trucker pounded away, groaning directly into Rob’s ear.
“Excuse me, sir, would you like to make some money?” Rob asked, straining to get the words out with the intense feelings welling up within his ass.
“What?” He stopped moving with his cock deep in Rob’s body.
“I’ll write you a check for a hundred dollars if you kiss me while you wreck my ass,” Rob said. He was on the verge of tears. It felt like his entire body was going to explode. That massive cock was inside him, plowing every inch of his innards. “And I’ll write you a check for five-hundred dollars if you both kiss me — with tongue — and you give me a reacharound. I can’t prove the check will clear. You just have to trust me.”
Neither man moved for a long time. The trucker recoiled then, and growled.
“You write that check out to cash, you little bitch,” the trucker said. “I ain’t tellin’ you my real name. Get your checkbook now.” He held onto Rob’s ears as Rob staggered, in great pain and mind-numbing pleasure, to his clothes crumpled up on the floor. The trucker followed him without letting his dick fall out of Rob’s ass. Rob had made sure his checkbook and a pen were ready in case he needed it. He scrawled out the check, made out to cash.
“I didn’t sign it yet,” Rob said with a moan, the bliss wracking his body so intense it hurt. He wrenched his head back and handed the check over. “Do it first. Sir.”
The trucker grimaced. His mouth was right next to Rob’s ear, so their faces were nearby anyway. His bristly beard scratched at Rob’s face. He stuck his tongue out gingerly.
When that thick tongue touched Rob’s lips, the trucker jumped and twitched. He even gagged a little. His tongue hit Rob’s mouth, and Rob kissed him back.
His muscles all tensed, his chest hair rubbing against Rob’s smooth back. The trucker’s body wriggled and squirmed as he fought against his own instincts. His hesitance and reluctance were clear, but he didn’t slow down and he didn’t even try to make it a quick, perfunctory peck on the lips. His hot breath mixed with Rob’s as their tongues interlocked.
Then one of his callused, rough hands wrapped around Rob’s cock. The trucker’s whole body shook again, and his dick twitched. The trucker groaned without removing his mouth, so the sound resonated all the way into Rob’s belly.
At last he resumed plowing. He kept his mouth planted on Rob’s and rammed his dick all the way in, nearly all the way out, then balls deep once more. Rob’s whole body reacted and spasmed, limbs flailing.
The trucker rammed him so hard that Rob’s feet lifted off the ground. He was supported entirely by the trucker’s strong arms, his cock and his tongue in Rob’s mouth.
It was not a passionate kiss, nor a competent one. His tongue fought with Rob’s as though he intended to invade and conquer Rob’s mouth. His handjob was rough and dysrhythmic as well.
But most of the allure of getting rammed by men was the raw, amateur feel to it. Rob was glad to submit to this colossal cockjob, and he loved servicing the man behind and atop him.
Once the trucker got moving, he seemed to forget that his tongue was in a man’s mouth, and he didn’t pay much attention to his hand either. He kept both in position though, even as he focused on drilling his dick in and out.
The motion he created was enough to send Rob over the edge. He was overjoyed to cum like this, with the trucker still in his ass, his hand on Rob’s cock and his tongue in Rob’s mouth. As uncontrollable pleasure wracked his body Rob kissed him back, slathering spit all over his lips and his beard. He sucked on the man’s tongue.
A burst of hot cum sprayed over the man’s callused fingers, coating his tanned skin. He kept on jacking, his hand moving slowly up and down the shaft until every last drop of cum had been drained from Rob’s balls. At last he pulled off Rob’s mouth.
“Could use some lube, bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. He took his cum-coated hand and stroked his dick one time, wiping all that semen up on his shaft.
Then he jammed his dick in and out, the hot, creamy cum providing enough lube to send him over the edge. His hairy muscles all flexed at once, and he pushed Rob’s head back down to the ground. Rob’s face pressed into the cum-splattered linoleum, his ass in the air.
The trucker watched his creamy dick slide in and pulsate there, his veiny shaft spasming as he nutted within Rob’s ass. He grinned at the sight of Rob’s curvy cheeks, his feminine shape and his tight asshole accepting every drop of the trucker’s cum. With Rob’s head on the ground, all the trucker could see was that asshole and the frothy, cummy mess that bubbled out of it.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ nasty-ass cumdump,” he groaned. “Hell yeah… Fuck… Where was you when I was in lockup, damn…”
Every time Rob thought the trucker was done, he groaned and a fresh spurt of cum flowed into Rob’s ass. He shot such a huge load that it dripped into every corner of Rob’s flesh, and it slipped out his ass too, dripping down his thighs and onto the showerhouse floor.
He stayed there, cock deep in Rob’s ass, even when he was finally done. When Rob opened his mouth to speak — but before he could actually make a sound — the trucker roared and pounded on his back. The trucker shifted his cock back and forth, and it twitched inside Rob’s sensitive body.
“Here. Sign the check.” The trucker handed it over, his dick still in Rob’s ass, growing limper by the moment.
Rob’s body was tense and tight. He struggled to grip the pen, but he managed to write his name with shaky fingers on the signature line. He handed the check back to the trucker, who finally pulled out.
The most jaw-dropping sense of relief of Rob’s entire life flooded him. He moaned so loud it startled the trucker, who gently kicked his ass with one bare foot. Rob collapsed onto the floor, a squirming mass of post-orgasmic flesh.
He nearly fell asleep. He didn’t quite, but he almost did. He was a warm buzz of desire and arousal, and he couldn’t even think about getting up yet. He heard the trucker walk over to the showers. He belched loudly and bathed, ignoring Rob.
Finally he stood on his weak knees. He stretched his legs. He took a few steps towards the door, intently aware of the trucker watching him leave.
“Hey, bitch!” He had to bellow to be heard over the sound of the shower running.
“Yes, sir?”
He was covered in soap suds, partially obscured by billowing clouds of steam. He licked his lips and sneered. “You like truckers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Next month. This time next month. I be back here in Norbilly. You bring your checkbook,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll bring at least two other truckers. Like me. You pay me, okay? Five hundred each, so fifteen hundred dollars. Don’t tell them you’re paying. They’ll kiss and give a reacharound, maybe more. I can make ‘em do it.”
“Yes, sir. That’s a lot of money, sir.”
“I’m gonna buy my daughter the pony she been beggin’ for. That’ll teach my bitch ex-wife to call me a loser,” he said. “You be ready. Bring lube. Forget the word ‘no’.”
“Yes, sir.” Rob said. He walked out of the door, clothes in hand. He stood naked in the parking lot of the truck stop, then slowly got dressed. He smiled and started to walk back to town. He couldn’t wait for next month.
That was going to be the most exciting day of his life, and he only had one month to prepare.

The Macho

Sasha is refurbishing a house in California, and that means hiring a painter. When he winds up with the burly Perico instead of the young hunk he preferred, he didn’t know he was in for a wild ride of alpha male machismo, activo and pasivo action and dominant masculinity!

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Sasha Lavendeur paid for the painting of the “rec room”, and he went with a low-budget local company, Paint-It Quick, because he was in Santa Monica and California deserved no better than a low-budget company such as that. If Sasha were back in Texas, where he did hail from, he would have chosen a classier outfit.
He needed the guest bedroom painted too, in this hideous home he was renovating in California, but he didn’t want to do that just yet. The house was almost ready to move into. Not that he was going to move in. This home was a flip.
Sasha did not see why anyone would move in, but he was confident the house would sell for a tidy profit.
His knees went weak when he went into the rec room. He had expected Cergio — the eighteen-year old handsome Puerto Rican boy he had hired to do the painting. Instead it was a thirty-something broad-shouldered craggy-faced man with a mustache like a push broom and and an uncomfortably thick ass. He was as handsome as a box of rope and has a similar shape, texture, outlook, attitude and odor.
“Oh. Hi… Where is…?”
“Cergio, he ees gone, señor,” he said with a cluck of the tongue that suggested he was unhappy about that. “I am his father. Perico.” His accent was much thicker than his son’s. He had the broadly lilting accent of a Puerto Rican, which was unusual, even exotic, out here in California.
“Uh… Oh. Okay,” Sasha said, not really listening. He lost himself in Perico’s deep brown eyes and his powerful hands gripping Sasha’s. They shook. Sasha blushed, he couldn’t think about anything but Cergio, who had been positively lovely.
But Perico had a certain brutish charm to him, Sasha thought. Oh, that hair, so wild, untamed, like the mighty mustang of the Texan prairie, and lo, the flecks of paint so tantalizing across his sturdiness… Sasha wanted to run his fingers through that tangled mane. He wanted to wash and comb it then watch Perico get it all greasy and tangled again.
“You want odduh room, señor?” Perico asked. “I will paint, eh?” He counted and put away the money Sasha had done proffer for the rec room. He tucked it into the pocket built into his painter’s overalls.
Sasha blushed and smiled at him, then blushed even more intensely because Perico patted his arm. It was coachly, not at all seductive. It was professional and warm and it made Sasha swoon because he could smell Perico’s clothes and feel his body heat radiating off him.
Perico’s overalls were speckled with multi-colored paint, most freshly the pale seafoam green that he had painted the rec room. “I can paint the other room, señor, two hours. fiddy bucks, señor, I do a good job. Do very good, very quick, more quick than so is my son. He is a lazy and he is gone again and I will hit him in the face for you.” He made a fist to demonstrate.
“That’s not necessary, muh dear Perico-“
But Perico’s face narrowed to slits, and his nostrils flared. “It is needed for yes, I will. He should not have left me, señor, to do this all myself.”
“Hmm… indeed,” Sasha said.
Perico grunted. “So you will hire me for now for the other room, si?”
“Oh, uh, not today, sorry,” Sasha said. “I’m not sure what color we’re going to want that. We might not want the seafoam.”
Perico nodded but didn’t acknowledge it. He led Sasha into the other room, which was currently a dingy, slightly-yellowed white, like the color of an abandoned asylum. The paint was peeling, and Perico pointed it out to Sasha as though he hadn’t noticed it. Sasha always noticed imperfections in decor.
“See? I am to paint, si?” Perico said. “Fiddy dollars for right now, yes?” He paused. “Forty dollars, and I will do it now.” Then, like he had forgotten, he added, “Señor.”
“Yes, it needs to be painted,” Sasha said. “I’m just not sure what color we want it, so I can’t hire you right now.”
Perico shrugged. “I have the paint here, señor. I do it now?”
Sasha shook his head. Perico was big and didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. He put one of those meaty paws on Sasha’s shoulder and squeezed firmly.
“You want dick? I will ram you and paint the room.” His voice trailed off, and he added another one of those distinctly Puerto Rican tongue-clucks that passed for communication. “Sixty dollars, señor.”
Sasha hesitated, but he already savvied the answer. He batted his eyes as winsome as the most tender of French prostitutes. Sasha pretended to be coy, and Perico roughly grabbed Sasha’s asscheeks like disobedient dough.
He grimaced and grunted into Sasha’s face. Sasha’s heart skipped a beat, he wasn’t expecting this, but he loved it, and his whole body fluttered. “Oh… Ah, Perico-“
“¡Silencio!” Perico said. He waited to make sure Sasha would obey him. Then he very roughly, painfully kneaded the flesh of Sasha’s ass with one hand. He spread his cheeks and ran his fingers through the asscrack. Then he nodded like Sasha had passed his inspection.
Sasha clutched Perico’s chest. “Ooh, papi, can I-“
“No, silencio,” Perico said. He squeezed Sasha’s cheeks, checking his mouth. Sasha couldn’t tell if he was more interested in size, or moistness, or maybe he was looking for sores. But again, he nodded like Sasha was sufficient.
Perico stood there, motionless, muscles rigid. He nodded. “Manos a la obra.”
Sasha smiled. He caressed Perico’s bicep, which Perico flexed for him. He was a hard worker and he was naturally thick, but he was no bodybuilder. Something was alluring about his real, everyday muscles, moreso than any of the bodybuilders Sasha had worshiped.
He reached into Perico’s overalls to test the size of his cock — he wanted to “inspect” Perico since Perico had inspected him. Sasha was glad to feel that it was thick and long and uncut. Sasha nodded.
“Good,” Perico said. He sighed and leaned against the wall. He undid the overalls and let his cock fly — he had obviously done this before, Sasha thought.
That was true. Perico let guys jerk him off all the time. Fellow Puerto Ricans could do it for free, as long as no one saw (or at least no females). But he made gringos pay. He didn’t used to, but after letting this one farmer jerk him off for years, Perico discovered he was paying other hombres for their cocks. He had been insulted that he was never offered money.
This gringo — Sasha — was rich though, Perico was certain of that, and he wasn’t gonna walk away without at least getting some extra work out of it.
Almost as soon as his dick touched Sasha’s tongue, Perico snarled and swiped it away. “You have beer, gringo? I like to drink when I let a male jerk me off.” Perico was scrupulously polite to his clients, but when he let a man jerk him off, he didn’t do it nicely — that was demanded by his machismo.
Sasha nodded. “I’ve got beer, papi, whatever you want.” He got up, the tender taste of the tip of Perico’s dick still dancing on his tongue. He loved its funky, spicy taste, and he adored the unwashed musk of Perico’s crotch that wafted out when he undid his fly.
He had a case of beer in the fridge, bottles of a fine microbrew. He wasn’t sure if Perico would like it, but that was all he had. “I hope you’re okay with an IPA!”
When he went back, Perico still stood there, leaning against the wall, his big brown cock hanging limply out of his overalls. He hadn’t lowered them at all. They were unzipped just enough to let his cock hang free.
Sasha played with his limp dick. Perico swayed back and forth to make it slap between his legs. He always did that when he had his cock out because he liked to remind his friends who had the biggest one around. It was normal for him and his friends to drink beer in the backyard behind his house, and when he had to piss, Perico just stood up and whipped it out. It was macho to be unconcerned with letting males see it, since Perico could hold his own if a male tried anything, and, of course, he wanted them all to see how big it was. His friends’ machismo required them to do the same thing, of course.
“You gonna jerk it, esé?” Perico laughed. He was cocky, moreso than normal — being naked around men always did that to him. He always felt threatened and overcompensated at first, but once he started getting his dick jerked, it was like slipping into an old sock that fit right. Getting jerked off by a man was better than a woman, Perico often thought but never said out loud. He thwacked his cock against his palm, trying to make a loud sound, a meaty thwacking that caused a sly smile to appear on Sasha’s face.
He drank from the beer. It felt good to drink beer while you got a nut off, he thought. He’d been drinking all day, but he didn’t tell this gringo that.
“Don’t tease me, esé, get it wet,” Perico said. Sasha was on his knees now, and Perico felt a surge of victory like he had conquered Sasha — it felt good to have a rich man jerking his dick. Perico hooted and lightly slapped Sasha, first with his palm, then with his dick. He watched Sasha’s eyes light up as he begged for more. Perico slapped him harder. He rubbed his limp, sweaty cock over Sasha’s face. When Sasha tried to chase it, Perico pulled it away, teasing him.
“Please?! Lemme taste it…” Sasha begged as femininely as he could manage. He blushed as Perico hit him in the forehead, eyes, nose, even his ears — Perico’s girlfriends never let him do that.
Finally, Perico leaned against the wall again and closed his eyes. He lifted his sweat-stained tee shirt over his head so it wouldn’t get in the way, but he didn’t take it off, he just put it behind his neck.
“Go on, make it wet,” he said with an annoyed grunt as though he hadn’t been the one teasing Sasha.
His dick twitched even before Sasha slipped lips over it. Then as soon as it popped into his mouth and hit his moist tongue, Perico moaned and grunted. His dick firmed up in Sasha’s mouth in seconds.
Perico would never admit this, but he preferred getting jerked off by males. Females were smaller, so had smaller mouths and throats, which was annoying enough, but even worse, they saw a blowjob as a preamble to real sex. They just wanted to suck long enough that they could say they’d done it and move on to pussy-sex. As far as Perico was concerned, it made more sense to just move right to pussy-sex and skip the blowjob — as a rule, he did not eat pussy himself, so that was not an option, he saw that as a blow to his machismo.
He had only ever licked one girl’s pussy. That memory filled his mind now, with both arousal and shame. She had been a beautiful blonde college girl, slumming it with the painter her father had hired. She pushed his head down to her pussy as though she expected him to lick there, and he was so excited that he had done it. That was his first and only time performing oral sex on a woman. He had enjoyed it but also felt humiliated, because she rode his face and used him like a dildo. Maybe that would have been okay if she would be his girlfriend, but she never talked to him again. She had just spent that day rubbing his face in it like a disobedient dog, humping that mustache until it gleamed with moisture.
“Chúpalo todo el camino,” Perico murmured, drilling his dick into Sasha’s throat.
His dick was rock-hard now. Salty precum flowed down his shaft, and it coated Sasha’s tongue. It tasted spicy and warm and it made Sasha want to guzzle down more. As usually happened in these situations, Sasha was so impassioned in the moment that he wanted to spend his life doing exactly this.
He looked up to make eye contact with Perico as he nuzzled his nose deep in Perico’s pubic hair, but Perico had his arms over his chest and his face aimed away, as though he wasn’t experiencing a mind-numbing wave of pleasure that wracked his work-weary body.
Perico was uncut, so when he was hard, his shaft seemed to have lots of extra skin. Sasha loved that. He played with it, stroking Perico’s shaft with one hand. He kept looking up, trying to make eye contact, no longer deep-throating. He teased Perico by daintily licking the vein that ran all the way up and down his dick, but Perico just grunted and shifted his weight the best he could with those overalls still around his ankles.
“C’mon, esé, swallow it, don’t play wit’chit,” Perico murmured. He repeated that a few times, “don’t play wit’chit, don’t play wit’chit, you just playin’ wit’chit it now, esé.” He kept humping, pumping his hips even when Sasha just had a hand on his shaft, so he was humping Sasha’s hand instead of ramming down his throat.
But Sasha liked teasing, and he loved making machos desperately horny, so turned on they couldn’t even control where their cock went. He slurped Perico’s cock and slathered spit up and down the shaft with his tongue. He let the cocktip leak precum into his mouth as he stroked that meaty shaft.
“Shit, c’mon, señor…” He jabbed his dick into Sasha’s face, but still Perico didn’t look directly at him.
That’s because Perico was an activo, and Sasha was a pasivo, or at least in a pasivo’s role. That meant Perico would be on top. His goal as an activo was to stick his dick in Sasha’s moist mouth or tight asshole, he didn’t care. If he did that — which he often did — then he was more of a man: he was an activo. If Sasha were Latino, he’d be called a pasivo. Perico pounded on his chest. He had been raised to believe in the distinction between activo and pasivo. It was very important to his father, and his uncle, and all the older males back in Puerto Rico.
The first time Perico had done it, he had been barely eighteen. He was skinny then, and he had just gotten his first tattoo. His father and uncle had brought him a puto as a belated birthday present — he was just a man in a dress and a wig that kept falling off.
But Perico’s father referred to the man was her.
“Put your dick in her, it will make you a man,” his father had said. The prostitute waited in an alley on his knees. Perico had gone back there, heart pounding. He thought he might just do it enough to get his dick wet, to say he had done it.
The man started swallowing with such force Perico yelped, like he was about to slurp his cock off. “Oh, papa, he is… Oh… I do not think I can do it-“
“Of course you can, you are a real hombre! I know it” His father yelled out from around the corner. “Just do it, your dick will know what to do.”
By then it was too late anyway. That man had swallowed him down better than any female ever did. Perico stood there like a wuss as the man swallowed his cock and sucked out every drop of his nut, all in a matter of a minute or two.
“You took no time, boy! You must take control of it-“
“Wreck his throat, you should make him gag and sputter-“
“Yes, men should struggle to swallow dick, it should not be easy, you made it too easy on him-“
Perico had not taken the criticism well back then. He got defensive and punched his father, leading to a fight that Perico was sure to lose because he was young, small and still had his pants around his ankles.
But he had taken the lesson well, in the long run. He needed to take control of men when they jerked him off. He needed to ram their throat like a pussy.
“Jerk on my huevos, gringo.” His eyes narrowed to slits. The longer he spent with his dick hard and getting jerked off, the more he imitated his father’s brutally aggressive treatment of his pasivos. Sucking on balls, his father had said, was humiliating, something only a true macho could make anyone do. So Perico had to suppress his grin at the sight of Sasha hurrying to obey and suck the sweat off his balls.
Sasha pulled Perico’s heavy ballsac out of his painter’s overalls, which were around his ankles now. There must have been a few drops of undried paint somewhere on those workpants, because the astringent scent of paint hit Sasha’s nostrils. It didn’t slow him down, he still swallowed both of Perico’s balls.
Perico groaned. He puffed up his chest and held Sasha in place as he lifted his balls up and plopped them in his mouth over and over. “They are sour, si, esé, you are good pasivo, suck on them…” He couldn’t believe Sasha actually got deep under his balls, licking all of the funky sweat off his sac, and he even got between Perico’s legs to the dense and kinky black hairs of his taint.
This was good, Perico thought, he kind of wished his friends were in the other room, because they would have spied and laughed and teased him for it, but that was a teasing Perico could accept. They’d say he had over-full huevos, that his cock was so macho he couldn’t resist getting it wet and it must have tasted so good it made the puto jerk his nasty hairy balls.
“Will you ram me in the ass?” Sasha asked, licking his lips to get all that uncut Puerto Rican cock flavor.
He already knew the answer — it was obvious that Perico was preening his machismo: he flexed his muscles even though his eyes were closed and no one else was around. Perico hesitated and bit his lip. He could do anal with a pasivo, he had done it before.
The first time he had done anal with a male was in prison, back in Puerto Rico. A punk there who begged Perico for it for months. Perico only gave in a few days before his release, when a guard said the man had been tested for disease — that was the thin thread of justification Perico needed.
He had thought he would never do it. His father and uncle had said it was fine — again, as long as he was no pasivo, it was fine — Perico had always been reluctant simply because it wasn’t necessary. He could prove his machismo simply by plowing his cock down a man’s throat. No need to do anal.
But that man in prison had been youthful and female-like, slutty, feminine, flirtatious, coy, always showing his big brown ass and begging Perico to ram him in it. Finally Perico had given in, and he was surprised at how good it felt.
It didn’t just feel good because he was in prison and it had been months since he’d felt a tight hole around his cock; it wasn’t just because it made Perico feel like uno hombre macho. It just plain felt good to ramrod a man who didn’t care how hard you plowed or if you accidentally banged his head into the wall or the side of the prison cell toilet, or if you belched during sex or if your balls were sweaty and smelled bad. He had rammed his bottom every which way, for hours, cumming five or six times before he was spent.
That was the memory that flooded Perico’s mind when Sasha turned around and bared his ass. “Please, papi, I need your cock inside me… Ruin my ass, please?! I want it so bad…”
Perico couldn’t resist that, it was rather like what the man had said in prison in Puerto Rico. He couldn’t stop thinking about that. All of a sudden, all of his reluctance was gone.
He let out a growl. He’d later on brag that he had said no and Sasha wouldn’t stop begging so pitifully that Perico had agreed even though he already had a girl who’d asked him to come fuck her that evening.
“Bend over, puto,” Perico said. He groaned, his dick aching, huevos begging for release. “I will ram your ass hard now. You can beg me to go easy, but… do not beg me to go easy. Spread those cheeks. You will love it, yes? You will say you love it?”
“Yes! Si! Yes! Fuck me!” Sasha cried out. He bent over the stool Perico used to reach the upper part of the walls. It was splattered with paint, some of it still wet, which left a seafoam stain on Sasha’s clothes.
He bared his big white ass and showed off his tight hole. Perico let out another growl of desire, this one less forced. He felt that familiar surge of uncontrollable desire just like when that man had seduced him in prison. Perico slipped his dick in, gasping and biting his lip at how easy it went in, just the tip at first.
“Yes, you will say you love it-?”
“I love it!”
“Say my name.”
“Perico!”
Perico grinned. He loved it when women called out his name. He liked the idea of anyone walking by hearing and knowing what he had done.
Sasha called it out again. “Perico!” Sasha’s voice broke. “¡Amo la polla de Perico!” Every time Sasha called out his name, he felt Perico’s dick twitch again in his ass as they both came closer to orgasm.
He gripped Sasha’s hair and held on tight, drilling his dick all the way in. Part of that machismo Perico felt was that he had to make it good for Sasha — Perico felt obligated to ram him hard but to also bring him to orgasm; making sweet love would not be as manly, nor would rutting in his ass like a dog.
Perico had to really grind his dick in, hitting Sasha’s prostate and making him let out a long, low moan. That was how Perico knew he was doing this right. All he had to do was touch the right spot with his cock and Sasha cried out with an intense prostate orgasm. Girls, on the other hand, required a whole series of action and romance, lots of kissing, so much time-wasting, Perico thought, and if anything went wrong or just unusual at any point, she’d back out. Not Sasha. Sasha would take anything.
So Perico pounded into him, with all his might, with more power with each thrust of his hips as he grew to realize that Sasha wouldn’t make him slow down no matter what. He grunted and moaned as though he didn’t care that Sasha was turned on too. He rammed his dick in and out.
Then he wrapped one muscular, paint-splattered arm around Sasha’s neck. He didn’t actually choke him, he just wanted Sasha to know he could. He wanted to feel a clenching burst of fear in him. His biceps flexed, squeezing Sasha’s neck as Perico slammed his dick in once more.
Perico grunted into Sasha’s ear. He moved his hips in little circles on Sasha’s ass, ramming at every corner of his insides.
Hot breath condensed on Sasha’s cheek. Perico’s breath smelled of the fried chicken he had eaten for lunch (which Sasha had bought him, thinking it was for Cergio), and his hairy chest undulated against Sasha’s smooth back. The chokehold was just tight enough that Sasha needed to concentrate to breath, but he didn’t mind that, both because the tension made his orgasm more intense and because it meant he was ensconced in Perico’s work-toned arms.
“Oh god, yes, fill me, Perico!” Sasha forgot all his Spanish, so he yelled in English. A potent prostate orgasm exploded within him, as Perico’s cock twitched and spasmed in his ass. Pleasure shuddered up his spine.
That sight was enough to take Perico to the next level too — he loved seeing a man cum with his cock in his ass, because to Perico, that seemed magical. His manhood had brought so much pain to this weaker man that he had orgasmed from it — that was how Perico saw his pasivos — and that made Perico roar with pride. Just the sight of Sasha twitching, ass clenching as he sprayed cum onto the floor was enough to send Perico into his climax.
Sasha sprayed his wad all over the floor and that stool he had been bent over, just as Perico let out his own crooning howl. The sound of Perico’s orgasm echoed and resonated in Sasha’s ear, making him squirm and beg incomprehensibly.
I need to go to Puerto Rico for certain, Sasha thought as the most powerful orgasm he’d had in years hit him like the donkey-like cock rampaging through his ass.
Cum filled Sasha’s body, great gobs of it seeping into him, trickling into his flesh. It was warm and creamy and copious, and it dripped through his body, some of it slipping out and coating his ass.
“Shit, esé…” Perico said with a hoarse snicker. He kissed Sasha on the cheek, just once, chastely — he’d never done that, but his orgasm had been so intense he felt he needed to show it. He acted on pure instinct and even very nearly kissed Sasha on the lips.
Then he kissed Sasha on the neck, and his hands roamed over his tiny twink body. Perico had no idea he was doing it or why, he just felt compelled to slather Sasha in kisses. Sasha was just as surprised as Perico, and he didn’t react.
It only lasted a moment. “Esé…” Perico said, moaning into Sasha’s ear, as his hand touched Sasha’s cock.
As if a switch had been flicked, Perico let go. That was turning too romantic. He dropped Sasha, who flopped onto the ground where he had just shot his load. Perico stood up.
He pulled his overalls up and tried to look nonchalant, as though he kissed his bottoms all the time. He blushed, ignoring Sasha’s shocked stare.
“You best pay up, esé, or I’ll kick your ass,” Perico said. He paused. “I will do painting too, as I did promise I say would do.” He shook his limp dick between his fingers and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, trying to switch back to his polite-worker mode. “Si, señor? I will do a good job.”
“I’ll pay.” Sasha patted him on the belly. “I’ll pay, don’t worry. Thanks, Perico. You’re a great worker.”
Perico paused and bit his lip. He tucked his cock away in his overalls again, and he put that tattered, dingy tee shirt back on. He looked serious. “Señor, maybe you will hire me more again in the future?”
“Si, Perico,” Sasha said with a satisfied smile. “That is very likely.”

Anyway, she got nice tits.

he like to think he’d eat her out if she want, but he got a feeling Hindu bitches got nasty pussy so maybe not. If he could stomach the diversity, he would.

He picked up that pamphlet on curry respect, cuz he done saw there was a pretty lady in it, a curvy spicetip bitch. She was in the inside, wearing one them gauzy things in one image and in the other she dressed as a prison guard. It was obvious they’s the same photo, just with the clothes photoshopped. But she got a slamming body! Steel’d put it to her, and he like to think he’d eat her out if she want, but he got a feeling Hindu bitches got nasty pussy so maybe not. If he could stomach the diversity, he would.
Anyway, she got nice tits.

From Winston Steel & the White Man