The Mover

When Rob hires the Garmon brothers as movers, he knew about their legendary physiques… but not about their legendary uncle!

That means Rob is in for a wild ride of ebony DILF action, and he just might have the most successful move-in of his life!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery felt like he wanted to throw up. Nothing was wrong with him, really, it was just the stress of moving in. He had purchased a new home and only now, after months of paperwork and last-minute snafus, he was moving in.
The only thing that distracted him from his anxiety was the movers. They were the Garmon Brothers Moving Company. When they showed up, Avery was floored — they had incredible physiques, like action heroes — but it wasn’t until a few minutes later that he recalled that was precisely why he had hired them in the first place. Months ago some friends recommended them and mentioned their outrageous physiques and the fact that they were usually shirtless. Avery chose them then but forgot why until they showed up, stripped off their shirts and got to work.
By the time the Garmon brothers were done, Avery felt a little better, if only because he had been staring at them instead of at his awkwardly empty house — he didn’t really own much furniture. He had never lived in a house, just apartments, and he barely had enough stuff to fill the living room. Aside from the mattress and bedframe, all of his things fit in one corner of the living room. The costs of moving in filled his mind, making it hard to think about anything else — Avery needed to set up cable service, a home security system; he needed to buy a wireless router, a couch, a couple chairs — how many chairs were normal? He had no idea, how many people should he assume might be here at one time? — and a lawnmower — how do you mow a lawn? He had never done it. What about a hot water heater? Did he need to buy one of those? His landlord had always taken care of that stuff.
The Garmon brothers were black, dark-skinned, all of them with the same barrel-shaped chests and huge biceps, built like the weightlifters they presumably were. They looked similar, with identical short haircuts and even the same tattoo (of their mother) on their chest above their heart, though they each had an array of other tattoos as well. It wasn’t even clear which of them was eldest, they all looked the same to Avery. Could they be quadruplets?
Seemed unlikely. But Jamid, Lashaun, Treyvon and Riddle Garmon looked shockingly similar.
They distracted Avery from his anxiety over the move. He paced uselessly around the house, alternating between staring at empty rooms and watching their sweat-dappled muscles tense and flex. When they didn’t see Avery for a little while, they started teasing each other, apparently playing some sort of game involving slapping each other’s asscheeks while carrying heavy things (apparently to make them drop stuff? The point of the game wasn’t clear to Avery, but he enjoyed watching).
There was one older one in the five-man Garmon crew, whom they just called Uncle. The Garmon brothers were young and virile and bull-headed, while Uncle was experienced, wizened and dripping with so much swagger it hurt to watch him.
He was tall, lankier than the others but still thick-bodied. He had ropy, well-used muscles, and just one tattoo, a Bible verse printed above his heart. He had a scruffy beard streaked with gray, though the hair on his head featured just one or two gray hairs. His muscles were taut and tight, like he had as much power as his nephews, just crammed into physically smaller muscles.
Avery liked older men like Uncle, who was a dilf if he ever saw one. He didn’t mind the younger boys too, with their six-packed abs and clean-shaved faces, but they paled in sheer power and swagger to their older uncle. He introduced himself as “Uncle” too, like that was his name. Maybe it was. Uncle Garmon. Probably not though.
When the four younger Garmons began loudly discussing a group sexual encounter recently, it was Uncle who snapped at them. He glared sourly and narrowed his eyes to slits.
Lashaun told the story of a gangbang gone wrong. “Man, I thought her thong was on my balls and then I remembered she took her drawers off, she threw ‘em on my face, nigga, I remembered that, so what the fuck is on my balls? So I reach around her and-“
“You was strokin’ my nuts, nigga, I thought it was her fingers, that was fuckin’ nasty-“
“You ain’t s’posed to slap yo’ balls on mine, Treyvon! That ain’t how you do-“
“Yo’ fingers prolly still smell like my nutsweat, you whiny bitch motherfucker!”
“Hey!” Uncle barked. He came into the living room in time to see their argument. Avery kept himself just around the corner, so he could see their shirtless chests heaving as they laughed and argued with each other, but Uncle didn’t see him. “Y’all niggas shut up. No ‘ffensive dialog. We can’t be gettin’ more complaints against us.”
The brothers scoffed and talked all at once. Uncle barked at them to shut up. Then Jamid, who was the oldest of the four Garmon brothers, spoke up. “He’s cool, Uncle. Don’t worry.”
“You don’t know that.” Uncle put his hands on his waist and frowned at his nephews.
“He one them muscle-admirers, Uncle.”
“Yeah, he, he like that.” Riddle might have put out a limp wrist, Avery couldn’t see from this angle, but he did something that made his brothers snicker.
“Bet he’ll like it if I flex my biceps.”
Uncle growled. “You pups best behave-“
“You ain’t in charge, Uncle-“
“Shut the fuck up!” Uncle eyed his nephews suspiciously. “Yo’ daddy said I was in charge-“
“He ain’t say that, he said we gotta give you a job, Uncle.”
“We know how to handle the client, Uncle. He be tippin’ me, man,” Riddle said, flexing his biceps and showing off his six-pack.
“Nuh-uh, you ain’t even seen how he lookin’ at my ass,” Jamid said. “You don’t even know. He gonna eat a BLT outta my ass. I bet I can talk him into givin’ me a grand to touch me, like that one freak, remembuh?”
“No way, he’s movin’, he won’t pay that much,” Treyvon said. He had a cocky grin on his face. “You know he’s gonna pick me. I’m the sexy one.”
“You the cute one, nigga, that ain’t the same thing. Girls like cute,” Lashaun said.
Uncle’s deep gravelly voice filled the air. He wasn’t as loud or as boisterous as the others, but his voice brimmed with authority that made it hard to ignore him. His nephews fell silent whenever he spoke. “What the fuck is you niggas talkin’ ‘bout?”
The Garmon brothers laughed nervously. None of them spoke at first. Then Jamid answered. “Uh… It ain’t, like… Lotta guys, you know… They been hirin’ us for a long time. I think they, like, trade our business cards or some shit. Like in certain clubs-“
“We got a reputation, Uncle. It don’t involve you. They like young boys, not old niggas.”
“They sometimes… you know-“
“All the time.”
“They always pay, like… extra, Uncle.”
Uncle furrowed his brow. “For what?”
“For dick.” Treyvon chortled and grabbed his dick through his jeans. He bit his lip and looked away. He and his brothers chuckled. They exchanged knowing glances, and they glanced behind themselves to see if Avery could hear. Avery was in the other room though, they couldn’t tell that he was around.
Uncle frowned. “What?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Uncle, just go wait in the van.”
“Yeah-” They laughed and shoved each other’s half-naked bodies. Then they all hushed up because Uncle barked aggressively.
“What?!” He glared at the four of them. “Say that again. You tellin’ me to go wait outside? Like I’m some fuckin’ disobedient dog? Huh? Whatchoo-?”
“Relax, Uncle.”
“No one’s disrespectin’ you. This is just-“
“Chill out, Uncle. We know you ain’t wanna get involved in this, man-“
“Cuz it’s that rentboy shit? Huh? Yo’ daddy know ‘bout it? Huh?”
They laughed at him. “It ain’t like that, Uncle. He just gonna jerk some nigga off. It ain’t no thing. Chill out, Uncle.”
Uncle crossed his arms over his chest. He looked sourly on at his nephews, who smiled sheepishly. They rolled their eyes and exchanged eye contact.
Avery stepped into the living room then. The Garmon brothers straightened their backs. Treyvon fixed his pants to make them sag a little lower, so Avery could just see the shadow of his pubic hair extending above his waistline. Uncle was the only one who looked hostile, the others making faces they intended to be smooth and seductive (Avery thought they looked more like they were all holding in a fart at once, but still, he thought it was cute that they tried).
“Thanks for all your hard work today, boys,” Avery said. He pulled out his wallet. “Why don’t I give you each a fifty dollar tip?” He accentuated the word tip, then dropped his wallet on the floor. With exaggerated delicacy, Avery grabbed Jamid’s muscled forearm to support himself as he bent over. “Oops,” he said. He picked up the wallet. “But you still have an opportunity to earn more. There’s more work to be done.”
“What’choo need, suh?”
“I can do anythin you want,” Riddle said. He nonchalantly grabbed at his dick through his jeans. “You want a taste, right? I can see it in yo’ eyes.”
His brothers scoffed, and Jamid threw his hands up. Jamid had been trying to get his brothers to stop volunteering because it undercut their bargaining position. Jamid thought they should pretend they had never done it and that they hated it, so they would only do it for a large amount of money. No one could convince Avery he needed to pay a lot now, since Riddle had made it obvious that he was comfortable with this and had done it before.
But Jamid’s brothers were too rambunctious and headstrong for that. They didn’t like beating around the bush, and they definitely didn’t like pretended to be inexperienced. As soon as any client even hinted at wanting to swing on some big black dick, they started to making offers. Jamid had to join in or the clients would never choose him.
“Riddle don’t know how to treat ya right, boy!”
“For a hundred bucks, I’ll rock yo’ world, no problem! Just bend over and grab ya ankles!”
“Bam!” Lashaun simply pointed to his perfect six-pack abs, which Avery had to admit was remarkable. He would have enjoyed licking Lashaun’s hard body from head to toe.
Jamid seemed to think he was already a shoe-in because Avery had touched his forearm, which Avery did again as he thought. Jamid didn’t respond. His strong, noble jaw remained still. Avery smiled and licked his chest from nipple to shoulder, making Jamid shuffle awkwardly. He laughed to cover up his anxiety.
“You four have great physiques,” Avery said. He giggled. “I’d love to get rammed by all four of you.”
“Hell yeah-“
“Hundred bucks, whiteboy! I’ll rock yo’ world!”
“You want this meat, huh?!”
“I know you like my biceps, weirdo,” Jamid said, flexing his arm in front of Avery’s face. Avery licked up a little more sweat there.
Uncle cleared his throat. “All y’all niggas is nasty-ass suckers. I’m tellin’ yo’ daddy you rentboys fo’ a pervuht.” He nodded at Avery.
The other four all fell silent, unsure if Uncle had offended Avery. Uncle glared dourly at them all.
“Shut up, ol’ nigga. You don’t know nothin’.”
“A mouth is a mouth, and an ass is an ass. Pops knows that. As long as you do it on top, you know, as long as you ain’t the one gettin’ penetrated like a female, its okay. Pops do it too, Uncle. He ain’t a bitch.”
Uncle snarled. “My brother don’t do that! He-“
He stopped yelling because Avery approached him. Avery smiled as he heard the other four brothers chuckle. Then Avery pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and displayed it for Uncle. He tucked it in his shirt pocket as he sunk to his knees.
“I like my meat finely aged,” Avery said. He licked his teeth.
Uncle snarled and hissed, but he didn’t say anything. He glared at his nephews as though this was their fault. “Man…”
“You like ‘em old?”
“That ain’t how it’s s’posed to work.”
“He got a gray old dick, man-” Treyvon said with a laugh
Uncle smacked Treyvon right in the face. Treyvon’s face tensed like he was going to fight back, but then he didn’t. “Shut yo’ mouth, nigga.”
Treyvon looked down at Avery, who was on his knees in front of Uncle. Treyvon frowned. “He ain’t, y’know… He don’t do that, you gotta-“
“Shut yo’ mouth, nigga,” Uncle said again. He smacked Treyvon in the back of the head. “I ain’t say no.” He furrowed his brow and started at Avery. “Hundred bucks?” He snorted, chuckling as he unzipped his jeans and let a massive dick pop out. He took the hundred dollar bill out of Avery’s pocket before letting Avery get to work.
The situation was tense, but that just made it more arousing for Avery. He sucked on just the tip at first, making enough noise and moisture that it filled the dead air in the mostly-empty house. He slathered spit all over Uncle’s cocktip.
As he got hard, his massive dick turning veiny and throbbing in Avery’s mouth, Uncle ignored his nephew’s annoyed glances. Uncle grimaced and his hands formed fists at his side because he didn’t want to touch Avery’s head — he knew if he did, he’d start forcefully throating him down and Uncle wasn’t sure Avery wanted that.
“Uncle, I thought you ain’t like this-“
“Shut up,” Uncle said with a snarl. He began pumping his hips back and forth, letting his dick rub on Avery’s tongue and his lips.
His nephews chuckled to each other. They all looked away from Uncle’s dick sliding in and out of Avery’s mouth. The Garmon brothers flared their nostrils, annoyed that they hadn’t been picked. They each regarded it as almost a betrayal — they had thought they were going to make that hundred bucks, not Uncle. It seemed unfair since, as far as they were concerned, they had better bodies than Uncle. They didn’t get that it wasn’t all about youth and perfect bodies.
“Uncle…”
“You is one fuckin’ hypocrite, you was givin’ us shit just cuz you ain’t think he was gonna pick you.”
“You goin’ booty bandit now, Uncle? Why’d you try so hard to get out of prison then? Huh? Wasn’t you already where you wanna be-?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Uncle barked. He sniffled. “I only did this cuz I ain’t wanna deprive this little fairy, he deserve what he-“
“Then why’d you act like we was fucked up for doin’ the same thing?”
“You was gonna tell on us to Pops, Uncle! You was gonna tattle like a little boy.”
Uncle ignored them, watching his dick slip in and out of Avery’s mouth. “Get outta here, or I’ll tell ya daddy you was tryin’ to watch me fuck my bitch.” He paused and whispered to Avery — loud enough for everyone to hear — “don’t worry, boy, I don’t mean nothin’ by callin’ you a bitch.”
Avery nodded. He was getting annoyed by all the talking, so he grabbed Uncle’s hands and guided them to his head, hoping to distract Uncle from his nephews. Uncle was reluctant at first — he was used to throating his bottoms in prison, not on the outside. It was soon apparent that Avery wanted him to ram as hard as he could, which was not an invitation oft-extended in prison.
So Uncle crossed his arms at the wrist and gripped Avery’s scalp with both hands. He held on tightly as he drilled his dick in, ignoring the instinctual resistance that welled up from Avery’s throat. It squeezed around Uncle’s fat dick.
“Damn, he goin’ at it!”
“I knew you messed wit’ boys in prison, Uncle. You said you never did it-“
Uncle flared his nostrils. “I ain’t do it in prison wit’ no boy.”
“So this is ya first time?” The brothers snickered with each other. It was obvious none of them believed that this was Uncle’s first time. Avery had to admit that Uncle didn’t seem like a first-timer.
“Shut up.” Uncle moaned as his dick leaked precum. The salty-sour flavor assaulted Avery’s senses, while he struggled to hoarsely breathe. He clasped Uncle’s plump asscheeks, which were round and hairy, bare because his pants were around his ankles — that made him look silly, his nephews thought, because real gangstas either took their pants all the way off or only lowered them just enough to get their dicks out. Uncle looked like an idiot, they decided, shuffling around with his pants around his ankles.
His balls slapped against Avery’s chin. Avery was delirious, blinded by tears that had welled up in his eyes as his lungs cried out for oxygen. He reached up with his hands to massage Uncle’s barrel-chest and the grayish hairs plastered to his skin there with sweat from the day’s work.
As he continued to plow at Avery’s throat, holding onto his head while the precum flowed, Uncle dragged Avery to the corner of the living room where most of Avery’s boxes were. He had to shuffle because his pants were still around his ankles.
“Alright, boy, we gonna get deep in that ass now. You ready to bend over this box?”
Avery nodded, looking up at Uncle, whose deep dark eyes stared down at him judgmentally.
“You wrong. You ain’t ready. Finger yaself,” Uncle said. “Don’t stop it wit’cha mouf.”
Avery slipped a finger into his ass. He kneeled by one of the boxes, which had his bathroom stuff in it. He managed to find his tube of lube and smeared some in his ass, all without letting Uncle’s dick pop out of his mouth again. He slobbered all over that pulsating shaft, making Uncle grunt and groan.
“Uncle, we know you done it before-“
“Shut up.”
“Uncle, c’mon, man, you can admit it. It don’t even count in prison. It ain’t-“
“Shut the fuck up!” Uncle’s rough, gravelly voice rang out. He roughly pulled away from Avery, grabbed his shoulders and lifted him up just enough to toss him over the box. Avery was still desperate for air because his throat had been full of salty dickmeat. Uncle either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
He rammed his dick in right away and gripped Avery by the shoulder. Avery cried out. The pain wasn’t that intense, really — he had pre-lubed and fingered himself, which helped quite a bit — but it was awkward and difficult. Uncle didn’t take Avery’s feelings into consideration at all. He simply bent Avery over the box of bathroom supplies and rammed the tip of his dick right in.
Avery howled and bit his lip. Uncle’s nephews fell grim and silent, wincing because Avery looked to be in agonizing pain at first. That lasted only a moment, however, before Avery’s ass began to loosen and his prostate came alive. Uncle slammed into it again and again. He knew exactly what he was doing, Avery could tell, he had plenty of experience with this. His big callused fingers roamed all over Avery’s smooth both.
Uncle didn’t seem to much care about the pleasure wracking Avery’s body, making him shimmy and shudder like an electric snake. Uncle’s manhood rammed at every corner of Avery’s insides. He slapped Avery’s asscheek whenever he felt resistance, and he pounded away, getting a little more of his massive dick in with every thrust of his hips. He held Avery’s head down with one hand, while his other spread Avery’s asscheeks.
“Damn, Uncle…”
“He hittin’ that ass hard!”
A wet moan escaped from Uncle’s mouth, and he followed Avery to the ground as his entire cock shifted into him, pushing past the final remnants of resistance in Avery’s throat. Uncle’s powerful body tensed and flexed from top to bottom, pecs flexing, legs straightening. His dick throbbed in Avery’s ass, each throb intensifying the sensation, while Avery’s hands clawed at his iron-like thickness. Avery couldn’t breathe or think or move, all he could do was experience the incredible sensations arising from his ass. He had never taken such a big dick in his ass, and it seemed to get bigger with every passing moment. Uncle moved his cock as though he was an expert in teasing prostates, and he made Avery squirm with pleasure.
Uncle knew a lot more than he let on about ramrodding men. He didn’t see it in the same way as his nephews did because he was older and he was raised differently — as Uncle saw it, he hadn’t rammed any men in prison, he’d fucked “females”. They may not have been female biologically speaking, but in the prison hierarchy, that’s what they were. As far as he was concerned, the best part about booty-ramming was when the bottom orgasmed. He slowed himself down to be sure he didn’t finish before that happened.
So he was relieved when he felt Avery’s ass clench around his dick. The smell of cum filled the air. Uncle rather liked that smell — to him, it smelled like passion and love and excitement. That smell made everything bearable, and Uncle wished he could have brought Avery’s tight ass with him into prison. A long howl of ecstasy came outta Uncle’s mouth, and when he thought that might sound too passionate, he turned into a raspy-voiced chuckle. He sneered at his nephews.
“Fill ‘im up, Uncle!”
“Destroy that ass!”
Uncle’s nephews’ bravado had diminished though. They were less than thrilled about seeing their older uncle naked, and they were each upset (not that they would ever admit it) that Avery hadn’t picked them. They sucked on their tongues and lifted up their shirts to show off their six-packs even though nobody was looking in their direction.
Avery experienced the most intense orgasm of his life. He had never taken it up the ass this good. He couldn’t even guess how long it had taken — had it been a few minutes? A couple hours? He guessed it couldn’t have been too long or Uncle’s nephews would have gotten bored and left. But it felt like a lifetime.
At last Uncle sprayed cum into Avery’s ass, a thick and bountiful load that filled him up. Uncle’s entire body pressed onto Avery’s back, smearing him with frenzy-soaked sweat and condensation from his hot breath. Avery couldn’t breathe at all, not that he wanted to, he wanted to lay there and submit, allowing Uncle to spurt gallons of cum into him.
“Ah, goddamn…” Uncle moaned into Avery’s ear, making him shudder and shake. More jets of cream spurted into Avery’s insides, and he exulted in the sticky, warming goopiness of it. It was all over his insides, like he melted into Uncle’s muscles.
“Okay, Uncle, you done. You can quit now.”
“Yeah, you gonna cuddle wit’ ‘im?”
“You two could make out all night long if you want, but we leavin’ wit’ the truck.”
Uncle snorted. He lifted his head, his dick still limpening inside Avery. He grabbed Avery’s wallet and pulled out another twenty-dollar bill. He twitched his dick, reawakening Avery’s orgasm and making him moan. Uncle smiled for the first time since this had begun. “I’m takin’ twenty more bucks, boy. That’s yo’ payment for me doin’ you extra-good.”
Avery was too tired and full-up to complain. He would have given over the twenty if Uncle had bargained with him to begin with, so it didn’t seem like a big deal to let Uncle just take it.
Then Uncle’s dick finally plopped out, covered in creamy white cum. He let it rest there for a moment, wiggling it around and wiping some of his load off on Avery’s ass.
He tucked his cock away and stood up. “Alright, there you go, suh.”
A long awkward silence filled the room. Avery was exhausted enough he didn’t care, but the Garmons all exchanged unsure glances, except for Uncle himself who just pulled his pants up and ignored everyone else.
“Thanks,” Avery said breathlessly. He gasped, whole body still thrumming with aftershocks of his climax. He gingerly wiped his ass clean. “I’ll be sure to recommend you to my friends.”

The Linebacker

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

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

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

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

Wuzu the Yakuza

When Teddy the bartender gets to swing on some yakuza alpha male meat, he jumps at the massive macho Wuzu. Wuzu is treated like a dumb brute by the other yakuza, so can Teddy tame this wild beast?

Read it now!