exhibiting horniness – Page 2

Reacharound From a Soccer Jock

Simon and soccer player Octavio share a dorm room, but when Octavio gets dumped and has a stiffy that won’t go down, Simon is eager to help out! Can he accept this Uruguayan exchange student’s exotic machismo and his powerful manhood?

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“Don’t worry, he won’t wake up,” Octavio’s voice filtered into Simon’s mind as he slept.
But that wasn’t quite enough to wake him up yet. Simon lingered in between sleep and wakefulness, as the conversation beneath him grew steadily louder and louder. Octavio’s deep voice echoed in the dorm room they shared.
Simon had come to GHU just three weeks ago, and he already disliked his dormmate. It was tough because, while Octavio was a prick, he was also a handsome soccer star. Simon loved his square jaw, broad shoulders and deep, dark eyes, his unbridled machismo, his bulging muscles that didn’t fit in the too-small soccer shorts he wore to bed. He was rough and brusque and seemed much older than his age. His jaw was broad, his hair short like a soldier, his chest perpetually shirtless.
His jersey and those musty shorts lay crumpled on the floor. Simon sat up as he heard the argument in the bed beneath him grow more heated. Octavio had brought his girlfriend over to the dorm. It was awkward, to have those two giggling and flirting, probably touching — maybe fucking — or at least, you know… touching each other — in the same room as Simon, while Simon wasn’t involved at all. Not a double date, not a friend of a friend, not a party. Simon had no connection to what was happening in his room.
Octavio’s frustrated voice muttered, muffled by the bed separating them. It sounded pleading. Was he asking her for something? Simon wondered if his breathing sounded like he was asleep. How do asleep people breathe? He exhaled slowly. Octavio and his girlfriend probably couldn’t hear though, they were talking, in increasingly animated voices. Octavio sounded frustrated.
“I don’t care, Octavio, don’t be a jerk! Why can’t we wait?!” That was Mandy, Octavio’s girlfriend. She was kind of a bitch, but she was beautiful — big tits, long legs, a round ass, a hefty head of mouse-brown hair. Mandy and Octavio had hooked up two weeks ago, but it already felt like forever. They argued constantly. She set up tasks for Octavio to do a lot, she seemed to think she was his social manager. She wanted Octavio to confront various people about wrongs done, to switch classes and majors, to say various things to various people in specific tones of voice, to buy her things even though she was the one from a wealthy family, while Octavio had to borrow money from her to buy the crap she insisted on. She’d barely looked at Simon. Women like her didn’t notice men like him existed.
“I been waiting!” he said with a groan. Octavio backed away from the dorm bed beneath Simon. She still lay there. Octavio must have been undressing, and maybe she did too? Simon heard a flurry of activity underneath him, which might have been her putting clothes on. Octavio’s face was ruddy and tense
He wore only a clean white jockstrap. The bulge of his dick would have been visible if it weren’t so dark in here, Simon had seen that on several occasions. When it was really hot, Octavio walked around in his jockstrap, either uncaring or unaware of how much his bare ass got Simon’s attention, especially when it was cradled by the straps of his jock.
Hoping to avoid any awkward situations, Simon pretended not to wake up. He couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Octavio’s nearly-naked soccer-toned body, however. Octavio was a soccer phenom back in his native Uruguay — he claimed to have been offered a position as a player for a professional club, but turned it down to go to school in America, here in the middle of nowhere. Simon wasn’t entirely sure he believed Octavio about the professional team offer, but it was plausible. He was the best soccer player on the GHU team, or so everybody said. Soccer fans seemed to think Simon should be overjoyed to be sharing a room with the Octavio Juárez.
“You’re being a real asshole right now. I said we could come up here and make out. I’m not…” her voice trailed off to a whisper, “having sex in front of your roommate.”
“He’s a wuss, and he’s uno nadie. He don’t matter, chica. Only you matter…” he said with a sigh. “I want you. I need you. Now shut up or he’s gonna wake-“
“Don’t you tell me to shut up! I told you about that, I hate that! You fucking asshole, Octavio! I knew this was going to happen. Didn’t I-?” She jumped to her feet.
“Oh, shut your stupid bitch mouth for a minute and let me talk!”
“What did you call me?!” Mandy put her hands on her hips, exchanged dark-eyed stares in the unlit dorm room with Octavio, whose jockstrapped body rippled and flexed like he was using all his muscles just to stand there. Her tits nearly overflowed from her bra, and she carried her blouse in hand. She put the blouse on and clumsily buttoned it as she strode to the door, then stood in the threshold and screamed at Octavio. “You are a real prick, Octavio, you know that? You’re a worthless piece of shit!” Then she slammed the door shut.
Simon sat up, as there was no point in pretending he slept through that. He looked at Octavio, who paced across the darkened dorm room. Light from the streetlamps outside and from the computers and charging cell phones kept the room illuminated enough to see his flat stomach and hairy chest, his nut-nose skin and his grizzled square jaw. Simon felt inadequate — he was small and skinny, and he seemed young in comparison even though he was actually three weeks older than Octavio. How did someone just barely eighteen look like he was pushing thirty? How did he have such muscle and body hair? Simon cursed his luck. Most of the guys in the drama department had a sixth floor dorm. Simon wished he was with them. He wasn’t a drama major — Dad would never allow that — but he hung out with theater people, and it sounded like they had such fun.
They didn’t have handsome machos like Octavio though. Simon licked his lips. He got to shower with Octavio sometimes, and he always did enjoy the camaraderie and the horseplay and the fat jiggling cock. He didn’t think Octavio felt reciprocally though — Simon enjoyed those things when Octavio did them, but Octavio wouldn’t enjoy them if Simon did them, which he didn’t. So to Octavio, those showers were probably boring and dumb, and he probably preferred to shower with his fellow soccer stars.
“Sorry ’bout that!” he muttered, his tone still angry as though this was Simon’s fault. He kept pacing.
“Oh, no worries,” Simon said. “It’s okay. I, uh… I’m sorry-“
But he wasn’t listening. He interrupted Simon with an expressive flourish of his hands. “That fucking bitch promised me she’d put out tonight!”
“Well, she might have-“
“I ain’t bein’ a prick, she was teasing me about it all night! All night, she was sayin’, you just wait till we get back to your dorm!”
“Yeah, Octavio-“
“And now she fuckin’ blueballs me! That goddamn perra! ¡Es la perra más grande del mundo!” he said. He put his hands on his hips and glared at Simon. “Why are you always lookin’ at me in my jockstrap, huh?” His pubic hair peeked out from the edge of the overstuffed jockstrap. It looked like his balls were about to fall out of the pouch.
Simon blushed. He didn’t answer. He just bit his lip. He hadn’t realized how obvious he’d been. But even now, he had trouble looking away from the overstuffed bulge of Octavio’s crotch.
Octavio came closer to the bunk beds. Simon was on the upper bunk, and Octavio was a little too short to look him right in the eye. He sneered at Simon.
“You can swallow my nut, Simon, but if you ever tell anyone, I will kick your ass!” he said. “¡Te voy a arrancar la polla!”
“She was right, you are a jerk!”
But Octavio didn’t register the words right away. He dropped his jockstrap, revealing a half-hard dick angrily throbbing, the veins in its shaft visibly pulsating even in the dim light of the dorm room. He was obviously very horny, Simon thought, which made Simon horny as well. He would greatly enjoy stroking, tasting and rubbing every inch of that awe-striking rod of man-meat.
“You are to say no? You do not want to do chack me off?”
“No! Well… I don’t have to. You shouldn’t take people for granted-“
“But you want to?”
Simon clamped his mouth shut. Saying no wouldn’t sound believable, he thought, so he simply said nothing.
Octavio sighed and flared his nostrils. He paced again, gave his dick a touch, then let go and glared at Simon. Then through gritted teeth, he said, “Will you please get me off? I know you want to…” His voice trailed off like he had wanted to add another insult but didn’t. He clucked his tongue against his teeth.
Simon slid off the edge of the bed, dropping to the floor, and Octavio scoffed like he was annoyed it had taken this long. Heart pounding, Simon moved one hand to grab Octavio’s dick, but Octavio gently pushed him down to his knees.
“C’mon… man… Put your mouf on it…” he said, again struggling to avoid insulting Simon. Simon was on his knees now, so close to Octavio he could smell the funk of his crotch and the floral bouquet of his girlfriend’s perfume, which clung to his skin. In the darkness, Simon could barely make out the silhouette of his cock, but the small portion he saw through the dimness was half-hard, throbbing and veiny, and the sight of it made Simon’s mouth water. Overhead, Octavio’s baritone boomed. “You’re my little pasivo now. You want it, I know it. You are having been looked at it many times. In the shower. You want it. You want me.”
He pushed his dick into Simon’s mouth. It tasted spicy and fresh, and a little like clean cotton from his jockstrap. The flavor reminded Simon of Latin food, the grass of the soccer pitch and the musty sweat scent that Simon caught a whiff of each time Octavio came back from practice exhausted. There was a certain sunniness to his flesh, like Simon could taste all the hours he had spent shirtlessly practicing in the Uruguayan sun.
His throat loosened as Octavio pushed his cock inexorably, but not violently, down. He grunted and moaned in half-articulated Spanish as he went, and his balls slapped against Simon’s chin. Simon’s hands fluttered at first, unsure if Octavio would allow him to touch his body.
He groaned as he fed his dick down Simon’s throat. He held onto Simon by the ear, grinding his dick as he pushed it ever deeper. Simon gripped his plump, muscular asscheeks and held on tight. Octavio’s ass was shockingly hairy for such a young man, the hairs were fine and soft, and his cheeks were firm yet juicy, jiggling beneath Simon’s fingertips.
There was a knock at the door. Simon gasped as Octavio pulled out. Octavio roared in frustration, then he seemed to consider it could be Mandy back again. He ran to the door and looked through the peephole.
“Octavio? Simon? Are you guys alright in there?”
It was Auden, the RA. He was an annoying Young-Republican taste of paste, a thick-thighed bespectacled business major who claimed to tolerate no tomfoolery but actually had such little authority he had no ability to prevent it. Nobody in the dorm liked him. He was mainly concerned with demonstrating his respect for diversity, enforcing rules was a second-order priority.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Octavio said through the shut door.
“Everything’s cool, Auden,” Simon said, his voice weak because he was desperate to get back on Octavio’s cock.
“It’s just… There was a lot of shouting just now. Are you sure everything’s okay? I can set up a conflict circle for tomorrow.” His voice was wavery like a weak string. “We should talk through-“
“Yes, it is okay now! We just have had a little disagreement,” Octavio said through flared nostrils. His dick pulsated in the darkness as it demanded more attention. Octavio opened the door all the way, boldly showing off his huge Hispanic prick, which was hard and dripping with precum and spit.
That made Simon suck in his breath. American men didn’t just flash their dicks in well-lit public areas like, apparently, Uruguayan men did.
The hallway outside the dorm room was quiet and dark aside from the emergency lighting that illuminated Auden. His portly body blocked the door way. “Uh… Oh…” Auden blushed. His fat cheeks jiggled, even when he wasn’t stumbling over any words. He stood there in the doorway, staring at Octavio’s cock. He was as mesmerized by it as Simon was, it seemed. Auden stumbled over his words. “Is… uh… your girlfriend still here?”
“I ain’t gotta tell you shit, esé,” Octavio said.
Auden backed up a few steps. “Okay, okay. I have great respect for the, uh… Uruguayan, uh… traditions, and uh… So, that’s — I’ll get that conflict circle set up-“
“No!” Simon cried out from the dorm room. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in this conversation. But Octavio seemed like he wasn’t going to argue about the conflict circle — Octavio had a coach and practice to use as an excuse, Simon had nothing and would have to talk to Auden about the conflict circle if he didn’t nip that it in the bud right now. “There’s no conflict, Auden. It’s fine. We don’t need a conflict circle!”
“Okay, it’s just, uh, reconciliation, and we need to solve-“
“I am closing the door now. It is a Uruguayan tradition,” said Octavio. He slammed the door in Auden’s face.
Outside the doorway, Auden’s voice could still be heard. “Uh, yeah, okay then… Just keep it down, Octavio.” He paused. “And Simon.”
Octavio’s hardon had almost diminished. But he muttered to himself, stroking it back to erection as he returned to Simon and slapped him over the face with his cock. Simon opened his mouth, and Octavio pushed his dick back down Simon’s throat, still muttering in Spanish about Auden. His dick was now as hard as it had been before the interruption, and he slammed it right down Simon’s throat.
“Swallow it, pasivo, yeah…” Octavio said, and he seemed to be going out of his way to be even louder just to prove he could, to prove that Auden meant nothing to him. He even situated himself towards the doorway as though Auden would be aware that Octavio’s anger was aimed at him.
Soon precum dripped down Simon’s throat again. It was salty and sweet, and it made Simon moaned with desire around the cockmeat in his throat. Octavio’s thick fingers rubbed Simon’s face and neck as he worked his dick all the way down Simon’s spasming gullet.
Then, without warning, Octavio pulled out. He pushed Simon onto his belly on the bed, and rammed his pinkie finger into his ass. He screwed up his nose as though he didn’t want to do it, even as he continued fingering Simon right in the ass. Pressure, pain, bliss and discomfort all hit Simon at the same time.
“Oh, hell… Octavio…” Simon’s voice broke. He threw his head back and moaned. He was on Octavio’s bed now, and he smelled both Mandy’s perfume and Octavio’s manly funk, his sweat, his socks and feet, the pillow he slept on every night, his unwashed sheets. Mandy’s perfume faded to the back of Simon’s mind.
All that mattered right now was Octavio’s youthful aroma and that fat cock, which Simon reached for even as Octavio moved both him and Simon into position. Into position for what? Simon didn’t know, but he was eager to find out.
“I want to stick it in you, americano,” he said breathlessly as he mounted Simon from behind. He didn’t put his dick in yet, just slid it hotly between Simon’s cheeks, and it pulsated there on Simon’s asscrack, as though it was massaging his sensitive hole. It sent waves of sensation through Simon’s body. He spoke right into Simon’s ear. “C’mon, you be my pasivo?”
“What does that mean?” Simon asked, his voice wavering and soft like Mandy’s had been (before she got salty).
“It means I get to stick my dick in ya culo when my girl won’t put out. I’ll be real gentle, promise…” he whispered, like he was embarrassed about it. “You will want it.”
“Oh, well… I guess, I…” Simon said. His heart pounded.
He had no sooner closed his mouth when Octavio pushed his dick in. A tight pressure erupted in Simon’s ass, and he clenched. Octavio had a tube of lube though, and he squeezed some out. Was Octavio planning on talking his girl into accepting anal sex tonight? That seemed hard to believe, but he was just cocky enough to try it.
Or maybe his dick was so big he needed lube for vaginal sex. Simon was a virgin and had no idea if that was normal or not.
Pangs of pleasure erupted in Simon’s sensitive ass, and he gripped the bunk bed tightly. Simon bit his lip to suppress a moan, not wanting Auden to interfere again, even as exquisite feelings ricocheted around in Simon’s body. It felt so good Simon’s whole body tensed and wrenched, and he slammed his head on the pillow underneath.
As Octavio worked his dick in deeper and deeper he moaned into Simon’s ear. He even kissed him on the cheek, then pulled away as though he hadn’t realized what he was doing. As he kept going, however, drilling his hard cock in deeper and deeper, his awkward kissing moved from Simon’s cheek to his lips. He even plunged his tongue into Simon’s mouth.
“I am a machote, you know what that means?” Octavio said when he pulled away from Simon’s lips. He wrapped his arms around Simon’s body as though holding him in place. He growled. “You want me to slam you like I should? An hombre should make his pasivo hurt, y’know. Mi papi always say a pasivo should be crying, that way he knows he is no real man.”
“Yes, oh god yes, Octavio,” Simon said, gasping for air as he was squeezed by Octavio’s muscles. Octavio’s dick, perfectly still, throbbed in Simon’s ass. He didn’t understand and wasn’t listening to Octavio’s words.
“Now take it, puta,” he said. He drove his dick in and out so hard and so quick that Simon gasped, not even able to concentrate enough to scream.
Then Octavio rolled him and Simon over onto their sides. He kept Simon’s chest in a tight hold, and he wrapped his feet around Simon’s ankles to hold him in position. Simon was wedged between Octavio’s lithe soccer-toned chest and the dorm room wall. He wondered if their neighbors would be able to hear. It seemed hard to believe there were two people sleeping maybe five feet from this spot and they didn’t know what incredible things were happening here.
He rammed his dick in and out, pushing the entire length of it, then pulling it almost all the way out, so just the tip remained, just enough to keep Simon’s attention focused on the pressure and pleasure in his ass. He moaned and bit his lip to avoid being too loud.
“Mi papi also teach me another rule,” he said, his voice suddenly low and soft. He kissed Simon on the cheek. “He say it should hurt, but it should also feel good. An hombre should give a reacharound.” His accent was growing thicker now, the more passionate he had become. “If he did his submission like a good pasivo should…”
His hand crept gingerly around Simon’s body, then wrapped around his cockshaft. Octavio moaned as though it was disgusting to him, but he gave it a few strokes all the same. That made a potent tenderness erupt in Simon’s cock, which spewed precum like water from a hose.
Soon Octavio had a good rhythm going. He used one arm to hold Simon into position, while his other hand jacked Simon off and his dick pounded in and out of Simon’s ass. He snorted like a bull as he humped, and Simon was totally immobilized, melting into Octavio’s powerful muscles, which squeezed and rippled and rubbed against the smoothness of Simon’s back.
“I’m going to fill you up. Don’t spill, that’s disrespectful to an hombre,” Octavio said. He sniffled as he drenched kisses on Simon’s back. “Okay, gringo? You promise you will not spill?”
“I promise…” Simon said, groaning as his own orgasm approached.
Octavio hit his climax first. He paused with his dick balls-deep in Simon’s ass, then gasped. Hot cum spread within Simon, who moaned loudly as it spread to every corner of his insides.
As he nutted within Simon, Octavio stopped stroking him off. Pleasure pounded through Simon’s veins. Then he squirmed, desperate to get himself off. His movement made Octavio’s dick twitch, and Octavio’s whole body writhed atop Simon.
And then Octavio resumed stroking. His limpening dick remained in Simon’s ass, even as his muscles all tightened and he groaned loudly.
It was only a minute or two later that Simon’s own orgasm overwhelmed him. He bit the pillow to avoid screaming, then rolled his head back and buried his face in Octavio’s hairy armpits. He grunted and groaned into Octavio’s body as cum sprayed over his chest and belly.
He didn’t know how long he lay there in Octavio’s arms. He would have gladly slept in exactly that position, but after what felt like forever, Octavio moved. He sopped up all the cum that had coated Octavio’s hand and Simon’s chest. Octavio gathered all of it up in one hand, his snorting disgust making it sound like he was being forced to do so, even though Simon hadn’t even asked him to.
Then Octavio held up his cum-dripping hand. He showed it to Simon, then very slowly pushed each finger into Simon’s mouth.
“Yeah, eat that nut, slut… You gettin’ nasty…”
Simon had always loved the taste of cum, but he’d only ever tasted his own. He also enjoyed sucking on Octavio’s fingers, which tasted of leather and grass, like what he imagined sucking on a soccer ball was like. Octavio moaned too, as though Simon’s sucking on his fingers caused him intense pleasure.
Then he finally pulled his limp cock out. He kissed Simon on the lips again and wrinkled his nose at the salty taste of cum. That didn’t stop him from pushing his tongue into Simon’s mouth and licking up all the semen that stuck to the inside of his mouth.
“Are we gonna do this again?” Simon asked.
He grunted in a negative way but paused before answering. “Probably,” he said. “But only at night. Don’t try to touch me during the day, and don’t tell no one about this. I’ll kick your fucking ass to pieces, puta.”
“Okay,” Simon said. He crawled out of the bed but Octavio stopped him. He dragged him back to where he was, ensconced in Octavio’s muscular limbs.
“Don’t go,” he said. “I wanna sleep with someone.”
Simon blushed, shocked that Octavio would do this. His heart pounded, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep. He wanted to lay here and lick those caramel biceps all night, but he knew Octavio would kick him out if he squirmed. So he lay still as Octavio drifted off to sleep.
“You better get out when the sun comes up, pasivo,” was the last thing Octavio said. “I don’t wanna see you in my bed in the light.”
“Okay,” Simon said. “Mi hombre. I’ll get up early.” He cuddled up closer to Octavio’s muscular chest, which exuded solidity and warmth. When he was sure Octavio was asleep, Simon arranged their bodies so that Octavio’s hot dick throbbed in Simon’s sscrack and his powerful arms wrapped around Simon’s body. In that position, Simon drifted into the most comfortable sleep of his life.

Three Generations of Honkies

Avery goes with a friend to an awkward family event, only to find himself enchanted by her father, brother and oldest nephew! They’re a trio of hunky studs who just might let Avery swing on their alpha honky meat… as long as the other two don’t know about it!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery lay awoke most of the night. He was dreading tomorrow — it was Thanksgiving, and he planned on spending it with his friend Lenore. That would have been fine on its own. But her family would be there too, and that promised to be awkward. The prospect of meeting who-even-knows how many new people made the whole thing seem like an obligation. It seemed like no big deal when she asked last month if he wanted to come. Her family might be fun, he thought.
And now he had to spend all day with them.
Lenore had not had a relationship with her family until earlier this year, due to an acrimonious divorce that led to her brother siding with her father and Lenore siding with her mother. That was why she had practically begged Avery to come along: Lenore didn’t want to be alone. So he tried not to sulk as he trundled off to her car early in the morning on Thanksgiving. He was sleepy, and he already he was failing to come up with any smalltalk.
He remained quiet the entire way to Citrus Heights, California. Lenore was quiet too, either nervous or just listening to the jazz on the radio. He was half-asleep anyway. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, however, Avery was already starting to brighten up.
Lenore’s mother had passed away a few years ago, and her father, Woody, had reverted to his bachelor ways after his divorce. He was an ex-Army officer with a tattoo of his unit on his belly — a fact that Avery saw when Lenore opened the door and Woody stood there in his boxers, hand at his crotch, scratching his balls. His arms flexed and his pecs rippled as though scratching his nutsack through his raggedy-ass boxer shorts took all of his muscles.
That was how the Thanksgiving began: Lenore screeching, and Woody blearily-eyed glaring at his daughter as his dick flopped out through the fly of his boxers. It was meaty and thick, and it flopped like an uncooked sausage. Woody was a barrel-chested man, his fuzzy fur tinged with gray, his head bald but shaved as well — shaved haphazardly, obviously without the use of a mirror, with slightly longer patches here and there around the sides of his scalp. A mustard stain on his boxers accentuated the bulge of his cock after he casually tucked it away again.
“Dad! Ohmigod, you are humiliating me! Ohmigod! Is this what you do? You hang out in your underpants?! Was Mom the only reason you ever put on pants?”
“Mornin’, sweetcake.”
“Go put some clothes on, Dad!”
He just rolled his eyes and hugged her, much to her chagrin. He shook Avery’s hand. Woody had thick fingers and a muscular grip. He squeezed Avery confidently. He winked too.
Avery blushed, and he looked Woody’s chest up and down. He was furry and broad and strapping, and he smelled a little of sweat, like he had been working out recently, or had simply not showered. Or both. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male aroma.
“Dad, I can tell you cleaned up, but you should have done the baseboards-“
“Sweetcake,” Woody grunted. “It looks fine-“
“I know, but I’ll just get a sponge-“
Again, Woody rolled his eyes. His ass swayed in his boxers as he followed after his daughter, arguing. Avery stayed there at the door to watching his shoulder muscles flex. Again, Avery got the impression he shook his ass for Avery’s benefit. His cheeks were full to bursting out of those paper-thin boxer shorts. The mustard stain looked to have harmed the already cheap fabric, that may be why his cock slipped out.
Where do alphas even find that kind of boxer shorts? So thin you can almost see through them like wet tissue paper. Avery’s dick twitched. He wondered if Lenore had told him she was bringing a friend. He hadn’t seemed surprised to see a stranger.
The rest of the family would be coming soon, and the house was not ready. Avery chuckled under his breath at the sound of Lenore squealing at the realization that her father had still not put on any pants.
“Of course you have to baste it, Dad! Nigella Lawson said it!” She came back into the living room. Avery busied himself by putting the cords, remote controls and DVDs out by the TV all into a stack. That was productive and helpful, he thought; he only wished Lenore had seen him do it. She stormed past with a sponge and an all-purpose cleaner. “Dad! Go put pants on! You have to wear pants to Thanksgiving!”
“You’re as bad as your mother,” he said with a grin. His eyes glanced to Avery, then up the stairs. He scratched his chest casually, but his hand lingered over his nipple, and his pecs bounced.
“Did you need some help picking out an outfit, Mister Myrtle?” Avery asked. He was now certain Woody was hot to trot.
She was awfully insistent I come up here. I bet she knew her dad wanted a piece of male tail on the side. Oh she’s a sly hag… Avery stared daggers at her as he followed Woody up the stairs. He didn’t mind her bringing him as a sort of a toy to keep her father satisfied, but Avery wished she had told him. What if Woody had been fat? That would have been awkward.
“Call me Woody, hoss. Yeah, uh, what color ain’t ya supposed to wear after Labor Day?” Woody asked as they ascended the stairs.
“That’s white, darling,” Avery said. “Nobody wears white to Thanksgiving.” They were up the stairs now. He pulled down Woody’s white boxers to reveal a chunky hairy ass, all muscle and meat and fur. Woody chuckled and stepped out of his boxers without missing a beat. Avery kissed one of his cheeks there in the hall at the top of the stairs. Myrtle fussed over some dumb girlish shit downstairs.
“Damn, boy, did she bring you just to keep me from getting too ornery?”
“A hostess should provide someone to service macho military guys at family gatherings. That’s in Emily Post. Your daughter is a thoughtful girl,” Avery said. “You get jacked off by guys a lot?”
He grunted. “You a take-a-shower-before kinda fruitcake or a take-a-shower-after fruitcake?”
“After.” Avery blushed and laughed. Obviously, he thought, that was a yes: guys who weren’t jacked off by other dudes often would never have known there were those who preferred both showered and unshowered men.
“Gotcha.” He went into the bedroom and flopped onto his bed, which was covered in dirty socks and tee shirts with sweat stains. The bed was unmade, but Avery thought no one actually slept here — Woody probably slept on the couch downstairs most nights. He looked like the drift-off-to-sleep-drunk-on-the-couch kind of divorced man. He flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “Man, in boot camp there was this fellah right off base who’d jack off any soldier who needed it. They just be lining up outside his condo, twirlin’ they dicks in they hands.”
“I bet.”
“But I ain’t mess around with him. The female tail was plentiful back then. It wasn’t till I got assigned to this base in central Alaska, then there wasn’t no females around except this one swishy Indian fella with lips like silk — what are you waiting for?” He snorted and chuckled. “My daughter is gonna come in anytime, demanding I alphabetize my potatoes or something, calling my spice rack racist. So let’s get this done, we might not have much time.” He slapped Avery in the cheek with his dick as Avery leaned over the bed to put it in his mouth. He groaned and scooted closer to the edge.
The doorbell rang. Avery heard more family coming in, and Lenore talking a mile a minute, seemingly apologizing for the state of the house. He slathered Woody’s dick with spit, as it firmed up in his mouth.
“You wanna hit it deep, baby?” Avery asked when it was hard. He rubbed Woody’s cock against his cheeks and chased it with his tongue, teasing Woody by blowing on the wetness on his shaft and making Woody’s whole body shake.
“Ah, man… if a woman asked me that, swear to God, I’d propose to her on the spot,” Woody said with a sigh. He closed his eyes, gripped Avery by the ear and slammed his dick all the way down. “Ah, shit…” Woody moaned.
Normally Avery would try to slow down something like this. Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them. But that didn’t apply to Avery. So it was up to him to slow his men down or else they’d just dagger his throat like jackrabbits and be done in mere moments.
Today, however, Avery didn’t want to slow down. He sometimes enjoyed letting men really have free reign over his throat, letting them plow into him deeply and letting their balls slap against his chin. He adjusted and loosened his neck to allow every inch of Woody’s cock in there.
“Goddamn, man, hell yeah…” Woody’s throaty voice rang out in Avery’s ear. He held on tight to Avery’s head, but he didn’t sodomize his throat in an aggressive or mean way like some guys. He ground his cock deeply, shaking it, moving his hips and ass in little circles like he needed to make love to every inch of Avery’s spasming throat.
When loud gurgling and sputtering sounds came from Avery’s mouth, Woody warmly shushed him. “Sssssh, it’s okay, boy, I’m cummin’ now, just keep it open for a minute more. You gonna get a good taste in just a sec…” His voice degenerated into a baritone rumble as an orgasm rippled over his hairy chest. He held his breath, keeping Avery’s head impaled on his cock, which spasmed and pulsated in Avery’s neck. Avery’s tongue throbbed against the veiny underside of his dick, where Avery could feel the juices flowing from his balls.
Cum flowed down Avery’s throat. It was creamy and warm and delicious, and he guzzled every drop. He maintained eye contact with Woody the whole time too. Most straight guys closed their eyes when they came in a man’s mouth, so Avery enjoyed Woody’s shocked expression as he orgasmed.
“Shit, boy, goddamn! If I had you back in boot camp, I’d have never bothered hooking up wit’ females,” Woody said with a laugh, shaking his ass beneath Avery’s grasp to make the last few drops of cum slide down Avery’s gullet.
Then, when it was over, Avery sat back and grinned, wiping his face off. Woody’s jaw hung open and he licked his lips. He chuckled, a throaty laugh like a moist mummy, and he wiped his hand through his chest hair. Avery smacked his lips and played with the sensitive, limpening shaft of Woody’s cock.
“Hmmm… Thanks,” Avery said.
“I should be thankin’ you.” He had a low throaty chuckle. “Thank you.” He wiped his dick off with some paper towels. “My son and grandsons are downstairs. And daughter-in-law.” He sighed like he wished his daughter-in-law wasn’t here. “Make sure you don’t let on what we done up here. The younger generations don’t get it.”
Avery mimed zipping his lips shut, then Woody took a quick shower while Avery chose an outfit for him. His cleanest pants were camo, but Avery found a tolerable pair of khakis. They were dirt-colored anyway, so the dirt stains didn’t show. Avery heard the family greeting each other downstairs. A child was in the mix. That was good, he thought, an excellent distraction.
Sure enough, the child — Jason — Woody’s youngest grandson — occupied everyone’s attention. Avery went downstairs met Lenore’s brother Mack, his wife Vanessa and their adult sons Rowan and Shaw, along with, of course, the young one, Mack’s and Vanessa’s five year old Jason. They all watched Jason play with trucks and lose counting games on his mother’s iPad.
Soon, however, conversation became stilted. Everyone watched Jason play like he was a panda at the zoo. Avery tried to make a few jokes, but no one seemed interested in laughing. The dull as drainage Thanksgiving was only ended with a fight breaking out among the brothers.
“You shouldn’t let Jason use the iPad so much,” said Rowan, instantly starting off an argument between him and his brother Shaw. They were both late teens, Rowan just eighteen but Shaw nearly twenty. They both hovered over their nephew, who ignored them, deeply hypnotized by the iPad in his grubby little mitts.
“Just let him play, you loser-“
“It’s bad for him.”
“You’re such a pretentious twat-” Shaw smacked Rowan, who smacked him back.
As Woody came down the stairs in a button-down shirt and dirt-colored khakis, he said, “Hey, you boys knock it off-!”
“Get outta my way!”
“He’s been beggin’ for this for years, I’m gonna kick the moron right out of his brain!”
Avery wanted nothing to do with what was soon to be a fistfight. He did like the men. Woody, his son Mack and Mack’s adult sons Shaw and Rowan. He appreciated the male form, and all four of the Myrtle men had admirable physiques in their own ways. Shaw was handsome and sort of squarish, broad and ox-like, yet clean-cut and dimpled like a new golf ball. Rowan was cute in a skinny basement-dwelling nerd way, not unattractive, as he was a soccer player in good shape, you could just tell he spent most of his non-soccer time playing Minecraft or something dumb like that.
“You piece of shit! Car thief!”
“Oh, now you’re bringing up the Toyota again?! Just get over it, Rowan!”
Shaw was tall and wide-shouldered, with deep dimples and charming green eyes. He was outgoing, with the smarmy charisma of a third-rate politician. After the fight with his brother, he went into the kitchen, where Lenore ignored the fighting and focused on basting the turkey in the oven. When she stood up to explain why her father’s favorite spice blend’s brand and mascot were racist, Shaw belched.
“Oh my god, that was so disgusting, get out of here!” She scowled at her nephew, and he instantly returned to the living room, where Rowan was still fuming about the car Shaw had “stolen”. As Avery settled in with a glass of cider (sadly, it was soft cider), Rowan and Shaw resumed their earlier fight, which was itself a resumption of a previous fight. Little Jason watched and aimlessly banged his trucks together.
“Fight back, pussy!” Shaw and Rowan bumped chests.
“Lay off!” Rowan pushed him to the ground.
“C’mon, fight me! You know you can’t!”
They both wrestled, knocking over the coat-rack by the door and a lamp. Avery backed up out of the way, putting him close to Mack, who picked up Jason and put him on the stairs so he wouldn’t be trampled. Avery felt Mack’s body heat. Mack ignored him, dourly watching his sons fight. He had ceased trying to stop it.
Avery caught Mack’s eye and beckoned as though he needed help with something private. He sort of swept Mack up to nudge him to come along. Mack went with him, and the roar of the battle in the living room went quiet when they went into the garage and shut the door.
“Thanks so for much for your help,” Avery said. He had manipulated Mack with body language and confidence, so Mack realized as he walked into the garage that he didn’t know why he was here.
“What did you need help with?”
“Oh… nothing too difficult,” Avery said. He grinned. “I have a feeling you’d like to get a nut off. Is that right?”
“Shit, hoss, always!” Mack said with a cackle and a whoop.
“So how about I bend over and you plow my ass hard?”
Get off me, Shaw! I’ll kick your ass!
“Oh, damn… Oh…” Mack’s cocky demeanor vanished. He was momentarily nervous. Then he took a deep breath. “Hot damn. Uh, okay…” He paused. “You can’t tell my dad. He’d kick my ass.”
Avery rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
Mack took a deep breath. “Man… It’s no big deal, just so you know. You’re not my first.” He blushed until his cheeks were the color of cherries. “I, uh… Back in college, my frat had this scavenger hunt thing I had to do, and uh…” He chuckled and blushed. “I was just… It was on my list, and I had to do it, that’s all-“
“You don’t need to explain,” Avery said. He smiled. “Come on, let’s go. If you wanna stick it in me, you gotta stop talking.”
Pulling his own pants down, Mack sat sideways on a riding lawnmower, so he faced Avery. A big dick popped out of his underwear. Avery went for it with his mouth. He planted his lips right on it, and there was a twitch immediately as it flickered into life.
A gasp escaped from Mack’s lips, though he tried to look confident. He was also excessively concerned about noise — his sons still fought in the house, which was much too loud for anyone to hear Mack’s heavy breathing from the garage. But he jumped every time there was a noise, like when Shaw and Rowan knocked stuff over in the living room.
“Hey! That’s enough!” Woody was getting involved now, and Mack pursed his lips shut tightly because the house was suddenly silent. He threw his head back and let out a soundless moan, his open mouth hanging agape, tongue lolling out.
Soon Mack’s dick was hard, and it throbbed as it leaked precum down Avery’s throat. Avery licked the shaft, tracing the trail of the vein that ran up and down the underside of it. Mack let out a long, low-rumbling moan.
“You’re gonna stick it in me too, right?” Avery said because it looked like Mack was planning on cumming like this.
Mack chortled. He removed his baseball cap, ran his fingers through his hair, then put it back. “I dunno, hoss…”
Avery said. “That’s what you agreed to. You wanna back out?”
“No! I just… Just keep your voice down,” Mack said, even though he was the one who was loud.
Avery just kissed Mack on the cocktip, slathering spit on his shaft. “Are you ready ?” Before he gave Mack a chance to answer, Avery got down on his knees and sucked the sweat off Mack’s balls.
Mack gasped and writhed. His muscles all flexed, and he wanted to let out a shout but couldn’t because the family in the living room was being quiet now. They’d hear.
His balls were heavy and full, and Avery loved savoring them. Ballsacs always had such an intense flavor that brought tears to Avery’s eyes as he gurgled and choked on them. That was loud, but only in the immediate vicinity of the lawnmower on which Mack still sat. Mack remained paranoid though, alternating between shushing Avery and loudly gasping nervously.
“I can’t believe this is gonna be my first time putting it up the butt,” Mack said, his voice quavering as Avery pulled off his balls and stroked his dick with one hand. Avery turned around and aimed his ass for Mack’s crotch. Mack sighed. “Girls always say it’s gross. Chicks are all cockteases.”
“Yeah. You should totally stick your dick in dudes instead,” Avery said as he lowered himself onto Mack’s cock.
“You’re not really an unbiased advisor…” Mack said with a chuckle. He leaned way back, like he didn’t want to touch Avery’s body any more than necessary.
That meant it was up to Avery to do most of the actual movement here. He backed his ass up, grimacing at the intense pressure that ate up his focus. He grunted and gritted his teeth. This was especially awkward because Mack just sat there on the lawnmower, watching as Avery struggled to keep his ass in position — he had to kneel over and raise his ass as high as he could make it go.
Avery was just about to tell Mack they needed to try a different position when his ass finally loosened. A loud sigh emanated from deep in Avery’s precum-lubed throat. Mack sighed too, in shock as a surge of pleasure shot up his spine.
“Goddamn, man… Remember my dad can’t find out,” Mack said, his voice wavering like he was on the verge of tears. He whispered even though the TV was on in the living room, drowning out all other potential sounds. There was no way anyone in there could hear unless they stood with their ears literally on the garage door.
Mack’s fingers gingerly gripped Avery’s hips. Mack’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth was agape once more. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. He had hoped it might feel like a woman’s pussy, but he was shocked that it felt so much better. Mack blushed and writhed beneath Avery’s body.
He was so impassioned and aroused that he grabbed Avery’s hips, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Avery any more than absolutely necessary. He held onto Avery’s body and guided him up and down, even as his mind told him not to, that this was too weird.
Mack sighed. If his buddies ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it. And if his father found out? As Mack reached a potent orgasm, he was filled with terror that his dad would come in right now and see him — he’d tease Mack about it forever.
But Mack couldn’t help but respond as an incredible orgasm flowed through him. He’d never felt like this. He pounded on his muscular chest and threw his head back with such force that his backwards baseball cap fell off, landing on the lawnmower beneath him.
“Shit, man!” Mack shouted, finally loud enough that people in the living room could have heard it.
Cum flowed into Avery’s ass, great gobs of it that filled him up. Since he was on top, it ran out and down his leg onto the floor of the garage. Avery shot his own wad, but most of it ended up in the body of the lawnmower.
Their orgasm continued for what felt like forever. Mack had never experienced anything like this, but it was old hat for Avery. He let out a long, cringing moan, then leaned back and rubbed his face against Mack’s well-muscled chest.
“Hmmm…” Avery murmured into Mack’s muscular arms, which wrapped around him as both men finished their climaxes and cum seeped out of Avery’s ass onto the floor of the garage and the side of the lawnmower.
They both fell back, limp and exhausted. Avery stretched his weary legs. He didn’t want to leave just yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before their absences were noted. Avery pulled his pants up and kissed Mack on the neck.
“Thanks,” Mack said. Avery gave him the two hundred dollars he had promised.
“You’re welcome,” Avery said.
Avery went back out to the living room — leaving Mack to breathe heavily and recover in the garage — where he watched little Jason be cute for awhile with the other males. But they were mostly watching a football game, not the kid. Avery quickly lost interest because he hated football. The only part of football he considered exciting was the men — sometimes you could catch a glimpse of their jockstraps. But he wasn’t having much luck with that today, and the menfolk were boring, silently watching the game. The fight between Rowan and Shaw seemed to have ended. They now sat next to each other quietly, meanmugging.
So Avery went into the kitchen to see how Thanksgiving dinner was progressing.
It was, except for the turkey being undercooked and then accidentally dropped on the floor, done.
The women — Lenore and Vanessa, Mack’s wife (and therefore Lenore’s sister-in-law) — had knocked it off the table when a fight began mere seconds before Avery walked in the door. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, watching the fight and struggling to process what he saw. He’d known Lenore for a long time, and she had never been the type to get into a slapfight.
“Don’t you dare talk about my son!”
“You filthy bitch, you turned my brother into a douche, and you’re trying to raise my nephews to be just as bad!”
“You’re not even a mother, you don’t get to criticize how I raise my son!”
They both tried to hit each other. A loud smacking sound rang out, but Avery couldn’t tell who had made a good hit and who hadn’t. Both women erupted in shouting and insults. Avery was still too shocked to respond right away.
Finally, Avery grabbed Vanessa and pulled her off Lenore just as the kitchen filled with the rest of the menfolk. They were all dumbfounded by the eruption of anger, and even Jason stayed silent and still, hugging his father’s leg.
“You elitist whore!” Lenore screamed. “Just because you’re so vain and self-obsessed as to spend nine hundred dollars on shoes, doesn’t mean I have to!”
“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t steal my shoes from the funerals of obese spinsters,” Vanessa said with a haughty glance at Lenore’s clunky brown shoes.
“You sticky-cunted bitch!”
“I’ll rip your goddamn eyes out!”
Mack stepped forward to intervene. He left his son behind to stand between the two. He put his hands up and said something that Avery couldn’t hear because of the loud shouting of the women.
Avery thought he was being the only responsible one in the room by grabbing little Jason by the hand and taking him out. Woody had the same idea at the same time though, and he scooped Jason up in his arms.
“Grandpa! What are they saying?”
“Nevermind them, they ain’t actin’ like adults,” Woody said. He and Avery went with Jason out to the backyard. Once the door was closed and they couldn’t hear the fight anymore, Avery felt a lot better. He was just about ready for this Thanksgiving to be over.
“No one fights like family,” Avery said, a little awkwardly — he didn’t know what else to say. Jason stood among a bucket of toy cars he had brought to the house. He was outside, and he seemed to realize he was supposed to play with those toys. But he didn’t know how or was too stressed by the fight to do so. Avery cleared his throat as he sat down with Jason and his toys, getting him started. “The turkey is not edible.”
“Yeah… I’ll do something about it.” Woody said. He called in an order for pizza, and then poked his head back inside. “”Hey y’all, hey! Hey! Shut the fuck up for a second! Hey! I ordered a pizza since you dicks have ruined everything. Y’all better pay, and you better give a good tip cuz it’s a holiday.” He slammed the door shut before anyone could respond. He looked at Avery. “It has been a hell of a day.”
“Gotta love your family…” Avery with a wry grin. Now that the fight was over and Avery had played with Jason’s toy cars, Jason had lost his inhibitions — he showed Avery how he was “doing it wrong”, then started playing on his own. Soon the fight faded to a dull roar, and Jason seemed to have forgotten about it.
He thought he was alone, but at some point, Shaw came into the living room.
“Look…” Shaw leaned in and whispered in Avery’s ear. “I need some booty, man… I’ll… give you a reacharound if you let me take you in the garage and plow into you until your asshole falls off.”
Avery sighed and squirmed as Shaw’s hand roamed over his back lightly. Then they both hurried — without walking quickly because people in the house could have been looking — to the garage. Once they got in without being seen, Shaw groaned.
“I knew I ain’t wanna have no Thanksgiving, what a pain! And we won’t even get to eat none of that turkey,” Shaw said as he dropped his pants. He scoffed. “Only pizza place open today is shitty as hell. Vonelli’s, man, fuckin’ awful.” He flopped his limp dick between his legs. “C’mon, hurry up. I’ve been waitin’ for food all day, and I am not missing that pizza.”
It all only took a minute or two for Avery to have his pants around his ankles and for Shaw to jam his still-limp dick into Avery’s ass. He stiffened up, rubbing his cock between his asscheeks. It all happened so quickly that Avery still wasn’t quite ready. His knees remained sore from getting plowed — right here in this garage, on the lawnmower against which Shaw leaned now — earlier, and this was all happening so fast.
“Damn, you’re… in a hurry,” Avery said with a chuckle. Then he bit his lip. Shaw’s cock slammed into him, and he grunted loudly. Avery squirmed and gasped. “Shit!”
“Shush…” Shaw snorted and sighed moistly, the sound resonating in Avery’s ears as he worked himself back on Shaw’s dick. Shaw’s hands roamed over his torso and shoulders, holding Avery in place. He drilled his dick in bit by bit.
“Shit, don’t let my dad or grandpa know about this,” Shaw said. He inhaled deeply of the scent of Avery’s face. “And especially not this.” He gripped Avery’s dick.
Avery was so shocked he couldn’t respond as pangs of pleasure shot through him — he would have never thought someone like Shaw would give him a reacharound. He was pinned between Shaw and the wall, which he clawed at and gasped into.
His hand fumbled with Avery’s cock crudely. It was obvious he had little experience with this. In Shaw’s fraternity, there had been a “rule” that was oft-mentioned: you can cornhole your assigned pledge, but you have to give him a reacharound. Having been on both sides of that equation, Shaw had few inhibitions about it now. Jacking Avery off didn’t even feel any different than jacking himself off, except that he got to plow into Avery’s tight ass at the same time.
An orgasm hit Avery first. He writhed beneath Shaw’s arms and cried out. The most exquisite bliss flowed through his veins as cum flowed into his ass and Shaw sighed into his ear.
“Shit, goddamn,” Shaw said with a sigh. “Thanks, man, I needed that.” The last few drops of cum filled up Avery’s ass.
“Yeah, me too,” Avery said. Shaw kept going, moaning right into Avery’s ear, which he nibbled on too as he gyrated his hips. That turned his cumload into a big frothy mess that dripped down Avery’s legs.
“Hey Grandpa! Pizza’s here! Where’s your wallet?”
“Shaw, c’mon! Pizza!”
“Where’s Avery?”
Shaw moaned, his voice breaking. He swore and slapped Avery’s asscheek as he pulled out. His last few jets of jizz spurted over Avery’s back. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said.
“Shaw!”
“I’m coming!” he shouted, then he laughed. He spoke more quietly. “Or rather… I just came.”
Avery sighed and sat on the cold cement floor of the garage. “You go ahead. I gotta recover. Thanks for lettin’ me come to your house for Thanksgiving,” he said with a bashful smile. He wiped his ass clean with a rag from the garage. “Your family has been gracious hosts.”

The Dad

Avery is after a studly baseball coach for a kids’s team, and he just might land his man! Once the game is done, Avery’s favorite dad-coach Gordon is in need of a little release and some affection, which Avery is eager to provide!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was at the baseball game at Dirkfield Park, but not to watch the baseball, or the kids, or even the parents in the bleachers. The strongest dad was always the team coach, Avery had learned that a long time ago.
The pattern held true today too. He was Gordon, mid-forties, rustic, bearded, thick-bodied and flat-bellied but not skinny, he bulged all over, like his body didn’t realize how muscular he was. He was good with kids. Judging from the callused fingers and the scuffed workboots in place of athletic shoes, he was some kind of blue-collar worker, but Avery didn’t know what he actually did for a living.
The impatience was clear on Gordon’s face. The third-graders were not capable of playing baseball to any significant degree. Not a single real hit had been had all night. Gordon shouted encouragement when they got close, and he futzed with the pitch-machine every few minutes, growing increasingly exasperated with it. He seemed to hold out hope that they would play some real baseball at some point, but that hope was eternally dashed.
“Okay, Jakey, run! Jakey, take your base! Jakey, we’re counting that as a hit! You have to run! Jakey! Jakey! Jakey!”
“Austin! You can’t sit down in the outfield, bud! Stand up!”
“Watch the game! Where is right-field, bud?”
“Throw it to second-base! J’waun! Second-base! That’s not second-base! J’waun! J’waun! You have to pay attention — J’waun, I’m sorry, I’m not yelling at you. Just… It’s hard to get your attention sometimes. Please watch the game… No, don’t throw the ball to me!” Gordon hung his head and took a deep breath. “Okay, J’waun. That was a good throw. But it also matters that you throw it to the right place.”
“No, I’ve told you a million times, no phones in the outfield! You’re supposed to be watching the game! Playing! You’re supposed to be playing the game! Watch for the ball! You might have to catch it!”
“Fox! Fox! Fox! Fox! The ball, Fox! Look at the ball! Fox! Don’t close your eyes! Fox!”
It didn’t help that it was a hot, humid night. It didn’t even cool down once the sun set. Even in the darkness, the humidity was like a swollen woolen blanket that filled the air and refused to let any heat dissipate. Avery handed Gordon a bottle of water from the vending machine between innings. Gordon took a long swig from it, some of the water slipping out onto his scruffy cheeks.
“Thanks, man,” Gordon said with a nod. His voice was croaky and crass, hoarse like he chain-smoked, or used to. There was a southern twinge to his voice, though Avery didn’t think he was from the south. He sighed.
“Good game, boys, you’re doin’ great.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “You’re doin’ real great.”
Avery thought Gordon was great, the way he milled about dumpily in his ill-fitting clothes (which occasionally bared a flash of his hairy belly or well-muscled back), his uncaring swagger and focus on the game, the work-built muscles — you could tell he didn’t go to a gym, at least not regularly enough to matter, but he must have worked his muscles all day every day. The one thing that annoyed him was that Gordon’s wife was there in the bleachers too. She was a shrill harridan with dark hair and thin lips. She looked drunk too, Avery could tell. She sipped from a thermos in a way that seemed more suggestive of wine than water.
Avery thought it was adorable how good he was with the kids. He was patient and supportive and he always remained positive even when the kids made error after error after error. He kept that wan, well-practiced smile on his face no matter what.
“Okay, Fox, that was… Remember throwing? We practiced throwing. You can’t run the ball back to first, you have to throw it. Remember your hands! Remember your hands! Remember your HANDS! Good hustle, J’waun!”
It wasn’t until the next inning switch that the wife went to Gordon with a look of fury on her face. She ignored her own son, and she murmured intensely with Gordon. Gordon looked hurt, his square jaw quivering. She wagged her finger at him.
Avery felt instinctively protective of Gordon. He wanted to help. But Gordon didn’t say anything at all, at least not that Avery could tell. This was a one-sided argument.
“Well, fuck you, Gordon! I don’t need you, and I don’t need this shit!” she shouted. The kids and parents all stopped talking. Everyone looked over there as Gordon blushed. His wife was drunkenly bold though, and seemed uncaring of being the center of attention. The parents looked away, but not the kids, who were halfway on the field and halfway off it.
Gordon said something softly.
“Oh go fuck yourself! I’ll make a scene! I’ll make a real big scene! I’m a drunk, everybody! I’m a drunken hag, and I’ve ruined Gordon’s life! He woulda been a contendah!” She cackled. “You’re shit! You know that? You’re a big pile of hairy redneck shit, and you can’t blame me for that.”
“At least he’s not a drunk moron shouting profanity at a little league game!” Avery said. He stood up and went to Gordon’s side. “Ma’am, I thought it was inappropriate when you tried to score coke off me earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene. Since we’re past that point now-“
“Wha-?” She cocked her head to the side as though ransacking her memory. (That hadn’t happened, she hadn’t tried to score coke. Avery just wanted to change the terms of the debate. The other parents all clucked their tongue and looked at her with cross eyes.)
“If you want to go snort coke, go do that but don’t corrupt the rest of our children,” Avery said as the crowd of parents murmured their approval. “They don’t need to see you off your mind on Peruvian marching powder.” Avery had to suppress a giggle. Nobody here, he guessed, knew anything about cocaine or that ‘Peruvian marching powder’ was not real slang for it. They all nodded and furrowed their brows at her.
A few people hollered at her to leave. She blushed and looked around as though trying to remember if she had actually tried to buy cocaine off Avery. It seemed she couldn’t rule out the possibility that she had done so and then forgotten. Avery guessed she probably used coke — she looked like the type — and he was glad to have guessed correctly. Avery smiled, clutching Gordon’s side and feeling the coarse hairs on his belly through his shirt. “I really think you should go so the kids can enjoy the rest of their game without you bringing down the tone,” Avery said.
There was a long, awkward pause. Finally she belched. “Whatever.” She looked at Gordon and scoffed. Then she tottered away. She had only just gotten off the field when she turned around. “Martin, sweetie! Call Mommy when the game is over!” Their boy, Martin, blushed and looked away like he might be able to pretend she wasn’t his mom (he wasn’t even standing in the direction she waved; she was too drunk to actually find him in the crowd of children).
Gordon took a deep breath. “Thanks, uh…” He paused.
“No problem,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.” He addressed the silent bleachers. “Okay, play ball. And someone call the cops to report a drunk woman leaving the park.” He looked at Gordon. “What does she drive?”
“Blue hatchback with Delaware tags.”
“Oh a Delaware bitch? Never marry a Delaware bitch, Gordon. That’s Rule One,” Avery said softly. He laughed and clutched Gordon’s bicep. “She’s remarkably stable and nice for a Delaware bitch.”
Gordon snorted. “Where were you eight years ago?” He clapped his hands and looked back at the players. “Okay, play ball!” He said it in a much more masculine and authoritative way than Avery had, so the kids erupted in activity right away.
After that, Gordon’s team, the Lammerdale Lions, was at-bat, so Gordon had less to do. One of his assistant coaches hung out by the pitcher’s mound to remind the children how to hold the bat, while Gordon stayed in the dugout with the other kids. That gave Avery plenty of opportunity to sneak peeks at his ass.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked. It was blatant how the other parents kept sneaking judgmental glances at Gordon, as though it was his fault his soon-to-be ex-wife was a drunken bitch.
Gordon shrugged. “She always been a bitch, hoss. Don’t worry.” He paused and cleared his throat.
Avery smiled. “The game is almost over. If you send your kid home with someone else, you could stay and clean up with me.”
“Why can’t my kid be there for that?”
Avery shrugged. “You never know what else we might do. I could help you forget about your ex-wife. I have a couple tricks that are very effective at that…” He licked his lips, loudly and moistly smacking them.
Gordon turned to face him and his eyes opened wide. “I ain’t down with that.”
“Oh. Okay.” Avery was disappointed, but he hadn’t given up. A lot of guys said no right away. That didn’t mean the answer would be no forever. It just meant they needed to prove to themselves that they weren’t too eager. Plus, he thought, it was easy to say no when it was just a theoretical option. When Avery was actually on his knees ready to swallow, Gordon might reconsider. There was still five and a half innings left (though the game would be called two hours after it began no matter what, so it really only had about twenty minutes). That was enough time for Gordon to change his mind.
“Yeah, good hit, Jakey! You got deep on that one!” Gordon shouted when one of the players actually hit the ball. It wasn’t even a foul, it was the first real, actual hit of the night. Jakey waddled straight for the bleachers to tell his parents. “No, Jakey! Run to first! Jakey! Jakey! Stay on the field! We practiced this!” But Jakey ignored Gordon and tried to get his parents to congratulate him, even as the entirety of the crowd shouted for him to run for first. Everyone wanted to see an actual baseball play occur.
Jakey got tagged out before he made it to first-base, which was impressive because the first baseman failed to catch the ball and then spent two whole minutes struggling to pick it up with his mitt. So all in all, that play took more than five minutes from when Jakey picked up the bat to when he finally made it back into the dugout. Five minutes for nothing to happen, one-quarter of the remaining game-time.
Baseball, Avery thought, was interminably boring. If it didn’t exist and somebody invented it, everyone would say “that’s not a real sport, it’s statistically indistinguishable from doing nothing”. Avery really did not like baseball. But he had to watch a couple games as part of his idiotic P.E. class — he couldn’t graduate without it.
Not that he really wanted to graduate anyway.
He entertained himself by watching Gordon’s ass in his tight baseball pants. They were wrinkled and unironed, a light gray with a green stain on the left ass. Avery drooled at the sight of his plump ass, and was he aiming it towards Avery? As he leaned over the dugout wall, it kind of looked like he was.
Gordon loved baseball. Unlike Avery, he not only thought it was a good sport, he considered it exciting. He spent hours at the batting cages nearly every weekend; he watched every Orioles game and nearly every other major league game; he even watched the Japanese, Mexican and minor-league teams (he had favorite teams in every league). He owned all the gear and could recite all the stats for his favorite players. He knew every World Series victory, the points and the plays — he could give you the play by play of every World Series game, and he could name every player and their vital stats too.
So he did get very frustrated watching the children play, dropping the ball over and over, failing repeatedly to swing the bat and generally just making more errors than Gordon had ever thought possible. But on those rare occasions when a kid did do it well, when it all worked — when his boy had caught the ball and dived for second-base to successfully tag a runner out — it seemed like a magical sport. Gordon thought less of anyone who considered baseball boring. It was the most elegant sport in the world.
When it worked, it was like ballet, he thought, not that he’d ever say that out loud.
It was hard to remember its elegance when the children were literally tripping over each other in their haste to run away from the ball. Gordon also found it distracting right now because this sissy was visibly checking him out.
But he soon realized no one was looking at him — the parents mostly just watched their own kids. People generally assumed Avery was Gordon’s weird little brother. They didn’t notice Avery staring at Gordon’s deliciously unkempt ass, thigh muscles fairly bursting from those tight baseball pants.
Eventually the inning was over, and Gordon went back out to be first-base coach. Avery had to sit by himself and wait. He was bored and didn’t have a very good eyeline of Gordon’s ass anymore. He did have a bulge in his crotch too, Avery could see that, but it stopped being exciting after a minute or two (a minute or two of absolutely, totally nothing happening whatsoever — Avery didn’t see why sports needed to have times when nothing happened. That was so boring it made the technically exciting parts of the game more boring by contagion).
But before Avery found a place to sit where he could see the game — and Gordon’s ass — easily, it was called. The two-hour mark was reached. In the end, no one could remember if the score was 9-2 Lions or 7-4 Pirates. So the Lions told their kids they won, and the Pirates told their kids they won, and everyone was happy.
When the dust had settled and the kids were all gone, it was just Avery sitting there in the dugout, while Gordon collected the bats and balls scattered around the field. Gordon had sent his boy home with a friend.
Avery picked up some of the empty soda bottles left behind in the bleachers. He tossed them in the recycling bin. Then he came up behind Gordon and whistled at his bent-over ass. “Damn… If your ass was a Chinese restaurant, I’d have the pu-pu platter.”
Gordon stood and blushed. “I ain’t into that.”
“I know. But I bet you could use a nut,” Avery said. “Come on… I’ll pay for all your team’s pizza parties.”
“What?”
“You guys have a pizza party after every game, right? Why not let me pay for it?” Avery said.
Gordon’s eyes opened wide. “You serious?” He came into the dugout. “Man…” He hesitated, then came closer, to where Avery sat on a bench. He didn’t say anything, but he got close enough for Avery to touch his dick through his baseball pants. Gordon closed his eyes.
“You ever done this before?”
Gordon scoffed like that was ridiculous. His dick twitched in his pants. Avery pulled them down, revealing an overstuffed jockstrap with pubic hair bristling out of it. Gordon closed his eyes. “Not sober.”
“Hmmm… What’s that mean? You do it drunk?”
“Don’t talk so much, man,” Gordon said. “If you’re gonna do it, do it.”
“You get drunk and do it a lot, huh?” Avery grinned. He lowered Gordon’s jockstrap, revealing a thick, meaty dick. It was already beginning to get hard, making Avery think Gordon must be exceptionally horny.
“No!” Gordon rolled his eyes. He flopped his cock over Avery’s face. When he had first hooked up with the woman he later married — that bitch who made a big drunken mess of herself in front of everyone — she used to suck his dick all the time. Gordon loved it. He acted it out now out of habit — he gripped Avery’s head and drilled his dick in until Avery gagged. Gordon blushed. He didn’t know why he loved it so much when she used to gag on his dick. That sound just made him so horny.
So when it was clear that Avery wasn’t going to complain about that, Gordon smirked and slipped his cock in deeper and deeper. Sure enough, Avery’s moist sputtering and choking was clearly enthusiastic in a way his wife had never been. She did it because she wanted to land a man, and she thought that was what Gordon required.
But Avery wanted to do it. He did it because he loved the feel of a man’s cock sliding down his throat, despite Avery’s instinctual urge to choke on it. Avery actually loved the feeling of his throat constricting around a man’s cock, and he loved the wave of pleasure he could see run up Gordon’s barrel-shaped chest.
Slobbering all over it, Avery murmured and cooed. He made a big mess with all the sticky precum coming out of the tip of Gordon’s cock. “Hmmm… You taste so good… Your wife is a dumbass for leaving you…”
“Yeah she is.” Gordon’s scruffy beard hairs quivered.
“Is the divorce final yet?”
“Nah. She’s just livin’ with her sister,” Gordon said. “Quit talkin’ so much, man. Or if you gotta talk, sound like a girl.”
Avery used his high-pitched feminine voice, acting as flamboyant as possible. “Hmmm… How’s this? I wish I had titties so you could lick ’em clean… or whatever boys do with boobs, I don’t know. Can I suck on a finger, Ralphie-poo? I wanna taste every part of you.”
Gordon grunted and groaned. No one had talked to him like that in a long time. His wife used to some, but even more than her, an old girlfriend did it; she used to talk dirty, beg him to let her suck his cock, request that he not shower so she could taste his unadulterated flavor. It felt like no one would ever talk to Gordon like that anymore.
Somehow being a blue-collar redneck had gone from stud to ugly tubby lardass even though his appearance hadn’t changed that much — women just interpreted it differently now that he was older and still had a blue-collar career and his thick body didn’t have that almost-six-pack he’d always had. He’d gained about fifteen pounds on his high school body, but it seemed like so much more.
He let Avery suck on his middle-finger, which was dusty and warm, while his dick jabbed Avery in the face. Every time it touched his skin, Gordon gasped and turned a little redder. He couldn’t believe how horny he was.
And Avery just teased him. Avery chased his dick with his tongue, giggling when he got a good taste and it twitched, and just that tiny moment of tongue-to-cock contact made Gordon’s whole hefty body shake.
“Hmmm… Will you let me lick your balls? Please….” Avery asked as though that was a debate — no one ever said no. He smiled as Gordon plopped his hairy sac onto Avery’s tongue.
“Goddamn…” Gordon moaned. He was already on the verge of orgasm, so it was nice to get his balls licked for a moment. That felt good but it also delayed his cock, so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. He figured if he looked like he enjoyed this too much, Avery would keep following him around and begging for more.
“Lemme hit that ass,” Gordon said. He blushed. He hadn’t meant to request that, he just thought it and his mind was too horny to censor himself. His cock throbbed though, and all he could think about was pounding it into some tight hole. He wished he had let Avery beg — he might have been able to get some more money out of it. Gordon grunted. He leaned forward and slapped Avery’s smooth ass.
“Hmmm… Will your dick hurt? Will you be gentle with me?”
“No.” Gordon grunted, his country-boy accent getting more intense as he lost his inhibitions. He was actually from Boston, but the longer he worked as a small-town plumber, the more of a country accent he acquired. He touched Avery’s ass again. It was so plump and round, like a woman’s but not like his wife’s, like a different, better woman, not even like his wife had been when she was younger.
Gordon slammed his dick in. He hadn’t intended to take his shirt off. But once he felt that tight ass clenching around his cock, Gordon saw that his shirt was just going to get in the way. Gordon didn’t want to do anything that made this less intense.
“Ah, shit, man…”
So he dropped his shirt on the dusty ground and plowed in deeper. His wife had given up the ass a couple times before they got married, but never once afterwards.
His belly jiggled and he sighed. For the last couple years — for most of their marriage — she had never fucked him without complaining. She complained when he didn’t initiate it. She complained when he did. She complained when he hadn’t showered. She made him shower and brush his teeth and shave before fucking (shave both his chin, his chest and his crotch). She made him lick her pussy, which she never once shaved after their marriage. She made him do extra chores. He used to do them and then initiate sex, but she’d just add additional chores at the last minute, no matter what, so he stopped doing any work until she put it on a list before sex. He didn’t put forth a lick of effort unless he got some sex out of it.
But jacking off was so easy now; it didn’t take any effort. He didn’t need to do anything but focus on ramming his dick all the way into Avery’s ass. He didn’t make Gordon stop to brush his teeth again; he didn’t answer emails on his phone, he didn’t complain to his sister that Gordon’s balls were “too wrinkly”. He just bent over and took it.
Gordon sighed grandly. “Damn, man, you feel good, shit…” He bit his lip as an orgasm exploded within him, not even noticing that Avery was already shooting his own wad onto the ground. “Sorry, almost done,” Gordon said, his voice breaking and strained as he came. He didn’t even get why Avery squirmed, orgasming beneath him. He was shocked because his wife had never responded like that. Avery felt so good he screamed into the night air.
Hot cum flowed into Avery’s ass. The feeling was melty and warm, and it was sticky, coating his flesh with creamy goodness. Avery let out a long, low howl that echoed in the stone dugout.
It had been a long time since Gordon blew a nut. He jacked off often enough, but that didn’t keep his balls from exploding now with years of pent-up cum. Even when he and his wife had had awkward, tense sex before she moved out, it had been so difficult it never really felt right, like he got blueballs even though he did fuck her.
But now, this time, it made Gordon’s whole body tense and shake. Sweat trickled down his broad back and into the crack of his hairy ass.
“Shit…” Gordon let his cock slowly flop out. He sighed and leaned back against the cold stone wall of the dugout. “That was awesome.”
Avery smiled. “I know. You do that real good.” He stood up, hands still exploring Gordon’s bare chest. “Lemme know when you’re ready for me to pay for a pizza party.”
“Okay. You ain’t gonna give me the money now?”
Avery giggled as he put his clothes back on. “If I gave you the money now, how would I incentivize you to come see me again?” He walked away. “Just gimme a call. I’ll come over and make you forget about her any time you want.” He paused. “Anytime I don’t have class.” He paused again. “No, anytime. I don’t care about class.”
Gordon looked down at his dick, gleaming with remnants of Avery’s ass. “Cool,” he said. “I’ll definitely call you.” He paused. “Wait, I mean… We got an afternoon game next Sunday. I’ll, uh…” He realized he probably sounded desperate and nasty, but he didn’t care. He needed to do this again. Avery’s ass was mesmerizing until he got his pants up and Gordon could finally look away. “I’ll call you then.”

Jockstrap Raid!

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

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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

The Driller

Lance enjoys the company of men, so this all-male oil rig is the ideal environment for him… especially when he gets to spend the night with the horny driller Edgar Hack! Edgar is desperate to get a load off, a problem Lance is eager to help with… Can they both satisfy their drilling-related needs?

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Lance had a bedroom to himself near the entrance to the oil rig Typhoon-2. Of course no one used the entrance for weeks at a time, but he was nominally the secretary. If someone did pull up and walk in, Lance was supposed to greet them and verify they had the authority to be there.
Of course at an oil rig located two hundred miles from the nearest land, the walk-in traffic was minimal. Lance rarely had less than six hours of advance notice before someone came for a visit. Even the “surprise” inspections by the government were announced twelve hours beforehand.
He had a bedroom there at the corner by the entrance because there were sensors that would wake him up if someone did pull a boat up near the rig. At one point in this oil rig’s history, that was vital — not because people actually came by often, it was just a national security thing — if there were no security measures in place, it would be easy for anyone to sneak up in a motorboat and come in.
But things had changed. Nowadays the sensors could ding Lance’s cell phone. They could alert anyone on the rig, or back on land, just as easily as they could ring the bell in Lance’s bedroom. But state law still required a “secretary” to be near the entrance on the off-chance someone did come in.
At night though, Lance just locked the door and set the alarm to ring his cell phone — powered by a local network — if he wasn’t there. It had only happened about once a month, and each time was a false alarm (probably a strong wave or a dolphin bumping into the rig near the sensors).
“Ah, fuck! You got a hairy back like sasquatch, man!”
“What a nasty-ass motherfucker-“
“Get off me, man!”
“Don’t be fuckin’ squeamish, man!”
The workers roughhoused in their barracks as Lance watched. He didn’t make it obvious he was there, but they all knew it. They all saw him, even in the darkness.
Lance could do whatever he wanted. He was both the highest and lowest man on the oil rig totem pole. He was not a driller, he was a secretary, and he had few actual duties, so he was sometimes treated like the least important employee. But his duties did include paychecks — he doled out leave, he handled sick call and he distributed paychecks every week. So the men treated him variously like a weak wuss of no particular importance as well as like a beneficent god who gave them money out of the kindness of his heart.
Since there were no females on the rig, Lance was the closest thing to a woman around.
“You best step off!”
“Lookit Edgar! Ha ha ha-!”
“Holy shit-!”
Lance walked into the barrack where most of the men slept. It was a long, narrow room with lockers on one side and bunk beds, stacked three high, on the other. The lighting was dim, just the emergency lights because it was after midnight — the lights here were automatic, and the fluorescents out in the hall stayed on all night though the barrack itself was dark.
The men were wide awake though. They never went to bed at midnight like they were supposed to.
They all fell quiet at first, like they always did when Lance came in the barrack at night. One man, Edgar Hack, was stark naked, standing there and shaking his asscheeks — apparently as part of some sort of joke. He shook his ass like a stripper, though he was thick and chunky and hairy, with a rough mustache and dirty blonde mullet. His dick hung free.
“Hi boys,” Lance said, his quiet lilting voice filling up the darkened barrack. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”
The men were all awkwardly silent. They loved attention from Lance, every single one of them. So they all acted as though Lance was a schoolmarm who made them horny despite themselves, like Lance invented stiffies to stifle them.
“Goodnight, Lance.”
“Yeah, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, man-!”
A chorus of goodnights rang out, some nervous and wavering, others proud and boastful. Lance came forward to Edgar, whose eyes opened wide as Lance’s hands roamed over his meaty belly. Edgar was barrel-shaped like most drillers — meaning he operated the cavern drillshaft — with that delightfully raunchy mustache like a 70s porn star, which Lance wished he could suck right off his upper lip.
“Good night, Edgar,” Lance said.
“It’s cold tonight,” someone said hopefully.
“Yeah, real cold. I got plenty of blankets though.”
“Hmm-hmm, me too. I brought this blanket from home, Lance, it’s all nice and thick, huh? My grandmoms made it.”
Lance blushed. “That’s a very nice quilt, Kale,” he said. He caressed the soft fabric. Kale Mashley had gotten the quilt last time he was on leave, not because he wanted it, but because he thought Lance would like it. Lance leaned in to Kale’s bunkspace and kissed him on the neck. Kale shuddered and grunted, and he grabbed Lance’s hand to drag it to his crotch.
“C’mon, man-“
Lance clucked his tongue. “Nuh-uh, Kale, you have to be nice.”
“Ha, Kale-“
“Man-!”
“He don’t want ya stinky cock, Kale.”
Lance bade them goodnight. They still argued even as they settled into their bunks. Kale growled with frustration, but he didn’t complain.
Lance waited outside the barrack. It was cold, that was true, and Lance’s bedroom was especially cold — it was low, near the water and the wind, and it was a corner room, exposed on two sides to the chilly ocean air. There was an area heater in the room, but Lance still preferred to warm himself via alternate means at night.
He waited though. He didn’t like to do it when everyone was awake. He liked to tease them and make them horny. He could have had them bukkake him every night — he still thought he might do that at one point. But with big rough-and-tumble bucks like these guys, if he let them all gangbang his mouth one time, they’d want to do that every night.
It was better to leave them wanting more.
So he waited. He watched Kale jack off openly. Some guys hid it out of embarrassment. There was a small room adjoining the showers that they used for private, or semi-private anyway, masturbation — it was filled with porn, pictures of women making ou with each other literally plastered to the wall like wallpaper.
But Kale and a few other guys did it openly in the barracks. They said it doesn’t count on the rig, and they teased anyone who objected.
Kale did it now because he could see Lance out in the corridor, bathed in emergency lighting. Lance’s trim silhouette attracted Kale’s attention like a moth to a flame. Lance liked watching Kale jack off even though Kale was in darkness, so all Lance could see was his shadowy hand moving and his face, which happened to catch the light from the corridor.
Kale moaned when he came, and the barrack filled with the cottony scent of his cumload. He shot a fat wad all over his flat belly. His muscles rippled, and he groaned. Creamy jizz coated his torso.
He let his dick drop with a cocky snort. He sucked on his tongue.
“Nasty! Clean yaself up, Kale!”
“Fuckin’ gross!”
“Go to the jack-off room, man!”
Kale chuckled and got up to clean himself off with some tissues in his locker. He was just a few feet from the doorway, where Lance stood surreptitiously watching. Kale came to the door and stood there. He stood in the light so his six-pack and his huge cock were plainly visible to Lance.
“Hey, man, I can go again. I can cum as many times as you want, boy, you can jerk me off for hours. I don’t run out…” Kale said with a smile, showing off his dimples. He clucked his tongue like he was trying to be seductive. He sidled up to Lance and thwacked his moist, post-cum cock against Lance’s thigh.
Lance blushed and giggled. “I’m sure you can…” He gave Kale’s dick one long stroke and then walked away. “But you should go to sleep, Kale. You have work to do tomorrow.”
Kale always flirted with him hard like that. Lance enjoyed it, he liked how the men treated him once there no women around. He turned Kale down most of the time because he got possessive when Lance indulged him, and sometimes he was mean. Lance needed to tell him no sometimes to keep him from acting hard.
“Put ya drawers on, Kale, no one wanna look at ya dick!”
“Then look away, man,” Kale said. He waggled his dick between his fingers as he stood there in the light of the doorway, then went back into the barrack.
Lance walked away so they would actually sleep. That was his routine. He watched whoever jack off, then they’d all go to sleep while Lance made sure his own duties were taken care of. If Lance stood there, they’d keep trying to get his attention, so he had to leave to make them sleep.
He came back to the barrack a couple hours later. It was three o’clock in the morning. The roughnecks here worked very hard every single day, so they were sound asleep when they finally got to it. The barrack, Lance noticed, smelled more strongly of sweat — and a tiny bit of blood — than when he had left. That suggested there was a fight, as there often was after he had left.
Lance hadn’t shared a bed with Edgar for a long time. He was older than a lot of the other roughnecks, and he didn’t have a six-pack like many of them did. That mustache like a 70s-porn-star was old-fashioned too, and he had a hairy, grimy body that seemed perpetually dirty, even when he had just walked out of the shower. They called him “Mullet Grandpa”.
Somebody snorted loudly as Lance walked into the barrack. No one was awake, he was pretty sure, or they’d be hissing for him to choose them. Instead the barrack was silent except for the snoring and the grunts of sleeping men. He loved the smell of unwashed men, and that was the scent here in spades. Their workclothes were here, that was why. Even the ones who just showered an hour ago had their unwashed workclothes there by their bunks, and that sent the smell of filthy men to seep into the air of the sleeping quarters.
He went to the column of bunks about halfway into the barrack. This was well into the barrack, away from the doorway, so the emergency lighting didn’t extend here. It was pitch-black.
But Lance knew the barrack very well. He knew where he was going. He silently climbed up to the top bunk. That’s where Edgar’s massive body lay sprawled out as much as he could in the narrow bunkspace. Edgar snored.
He twitched when Lance’s fingers caressed his hairy thighs. Lance reached under the shorts he slept in every night. Edgar had showered right before bed, but he rarely washed those shorts, so they had an intensely musky scent that Lance adored.
“Huh?” Edgar woke up, groggy. His whole body shook.
“Ssssssssh….” Lance murmured. “It’s just me, it’s Lance. It’s really cold in my room, Edgar. Can I sleep with you? Will you keep me warm?” Lance asked it winsomely, like he thought Edgar would probably say no. Lance shivered. He knew Edgar would say yes. The only person in the rig who would say no was Hakim Hafazz, and even he, Lance was pretty sure, would actually say yes if Lance came to him at night — Hakim had told Lance not to try anything, that he would say no, but Lance suspected Hakim only said that because he knew he would give in to temptation if Lance actually did come to him at night. Nevertheless, Lance left him alone out of respect. Besides, there were plenty of men begging to keep Lance warm.
“Huh? Oh…” Edgar grunted. He scooted up against the steel wall of the barrack, laying on his side to give Lance enough room to squeeze in there. His hairy body was thick and fleshy, and his sheets stank of him. Lance inhaled deeply as he buried his face in Edgar’s arms.
It was obvious what was going to happen. Lance wanted it and had done it before. Edgar always said yes. They all let Lance sleep with them when he asked, and they always ended up plowing him in the ass too. Lance didn’t even initiate anything anymore, because it felt better to lay in bed with a man and be seduced rather than do the seduction.
So Lance just laid on his side too, facing Edgar. He nuzzled Edgar’s hairy neck as though going to go to sleep like that. His feet touched Edgar’s and he caressed Edgar’s ankle with his toes.
The men here all swore that they never kissed Lance. They let Lance share their bunk, and they let Lance grope their muscles, and they let Lance jerk them off, and they let Lance lick their ass, and they rammed Lance in the ass when he begged them to — but they all bragged to each other that they didn’t kiss him.
But they were all lying.
“Ssssssssh…” Lance murmured as his kisses traveled up Edgar’s neck to that mustache that Lance adored. He had to muffle a moan. He kissed Edgar on the lips, and Edgar moaned too. His moan was thick and moist like his body, crude, gravelly, loud but so deep it wouldn’t wake anyone up, it just blended in with the whirr of the oil rig’s machinery.
“Baby…” Edgar whispered right in Lance’s ear. “You feel so nice and soft… I love you…” Edgar always said he loved Lance. Lance didn’t mind, even though he knew Edgar didn’t mean it — it was just the feelings that this situation aroused within Edgar, making him feel such intense affection that it seemed like love to him. He plunged his tongue into Lance’s throat.
Lance kissed him back and caressed Edgar’s back the best he could. Edgar’s whole body rubbed over Lance as they made out.
Despite their constant promises otherwise, they all kissed Lance at night — they just didn’t acknowledge it during the day. It was difficult to resist. In the dark, Lance sounded like a woman and he felt like a woman with very small tits, and of course he had no pussy, but he did have an ass he let them fill, which they thought of as better than a pussy anyway.
Edgar mounted Lance’s chest as though to tittyfuck the breasts Lance didn’t have. Edgar always did that, pretending, even kneaded Lance’s flesh to rub it against the sides of his dick, titty-plowing the best he could despite Lance having no breasts. It was a little painful but Lance didn’t mind his rough fingers molding his skin. It didn’t last long anyway. Edgar’s dick was already hard and throbbing as he scooted forward, humping Lance’s chest until he got to his mouth.
It was actually a major feat of balance to get jerked off on one of these bunks. Edgar was so wide and thick that he struggled to sit up on the narrow bunk. He had to clutch the edges with his knees and hands, and in order to get his dick to Lance’s mouth, Edgar had to lean so far forward his head was on the bunk of the man next to him (Osvaldo Ramirez).
His thick dick slipped past Lance’s lips, and the taste of Edgar’s potent manhood overwhelmed Lance’s senses. He opened wide, letting Edgar plow into his throat with all his might. Lance’s hands caressed Edgar’s asscheeks as he humped in the dark.
When he tasted precum, Lance patted Edgar on the ass. He had to do it a couple times, slapping one meaty cheek hard enough to make a loud sound, to get Edgar’s attention. Edgar pulled off his mouth, and Lance took a deep breath as quietly as he could manage.
“Can you ram me? Please… I need it… I need you…” Lance whispered right into Edgar’s ear. Edgar’s whole body shuddered. Lance giggled. “You’re so strong, I wanna feel your dick inside me… Please…” He begged even though he knew there was never any doubt about it. Edgar loved to ram, but he also loved to hear Lance beg for it.
He grunted affirmatively, too horny to actually say anything. He slid down Lance’s body. As he did, his balls dragged over Lance’s belly and even his own cock. Edgar either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He rolled Lance over onto his side again, with Edgar on his side next to him. Edgar was such a thick-bodied man that, even with both of them on their side, his big barrel chest took up most of the space. Lance was near the edge of the bunk. He would have been scared to fall but Edgar wrapped one of his massive arms around Lance’s neck, keeping him in a tight, but loving, chokehold. Lance moaned and licked his bicep, while Edgar scrunched his tall body up to fit in the bunkspace and get his dick lined up with Lance’s ass.
“Damn it, Edgar, get off me!” someone muttered in the bunk on the other side of Edgar’s feet — which had accidentally kicked him as he and Edgar got into position. It was Karl Manderson, who scowled. “Don’t fuckin’ kick me, man, and keep it quiet.” He rotated his body so his head was farther from Edgar’s bunk, that way he wouldn’t hear Edgar and Lance — which was gross — and if Edgar accidentally kicked him again, he would hit his feet, not his head.
Edgar barely noticed. He was uncontrollably horny. He held onto Lance tightly and drilled his dick into his ass. Lance grunted and bit his bicep until Edgar stopped.
“Wait, wait, I didn’t put lube on,” Lance murmured through his pained ass — it really didn’t hurt that bad but he knew if he didn’t react strongly, Edgar would ignore it. Lance made Edgar apply the lube because he liked to feel Edgar showing tenderness towards him.
“I’m sorry, baby, I don’t wanna hurtcha. I wanna make you feel good,” Edgar whispered in Lance’s ear. He slathered gobs of lube onto Lance’s ass, but even then, he only slowed down his penetration. He kept pushing his dick in as he smeared it with lube, and Lance twisted in his arms. Lance would have definitely fallen off the bunk if he weren’t held up by Edgar’s strong arm.
Finally he was fully lubed, and Edgar began plowing hard. He slammed his cock in and out, letting his entire foot-long dick penetrate him, each inch sending a new wave of pleasure through Lance’s body.
Some of the men rammed Lance like they were fucking a disgusting prostitute who was their last choice at the brothel. That style of filthy rutting had its appeal for Lance at times. But he usually preferred to get a man to make sweet love to him. These roughnecks could make love in such a delightfully harsh way that Lance was ready to burst from the moment they started, and Edgar was one of the best.
Edgar knew well how to ram a man fast, good and quietly. His cock plowed pleasure deep into Lance’s body. He used one arm to keep Lance from falling off the edge, while his other spread Lance’s asscheeks wide.
That position didn’t last long though. The more he rammed, the more Edgar pulled Lance in close to him. Lance’s smooth frame really did feel like a girl, Edgar thought, and even his moaning and grunting sounded feminine. Soon, as always happened, Lance lay on his belly on the bunk while Edgar rammed on top of him.
He got pretty loud near the end. He plowed hard, making his bunk wheeze and shake. Both of the men in the bunks beneath him — Waymond right below, and Gooey under him — woke up and sighed, a little disgusted though neither could complain since they had both done the same thing on different occasions. Waymond especially wished he hadn’t woken up because he could hear them plowing just above his head, so close it was almost like they rammed him.
But that loud plowing, rutting like a horse, grunting and groaning with every thrust of his hips into Lance’s body, didn’t last more than a minute or two, so almost no one woke up besides Waymond and Gooey. They were all used to it anyway — Lance got rammed nearly every night. The only question was who would keep him warm.
Cum drained into Lance’s ass, great thick gobs of it that coated his insides and spread within him. Lance let out a long, cringing moan that would have been very loud if he weren’t squashed beneath Edgar’s hairy body.
“Goddamn, boy, yeah, take it, take it, take e’ry drop, boy…” Edgar whispered right into his ear and sucked on Lance’s earlobe, making him shudder and cringe, begging for more.
Lance and Edgar had a particular routine that was special to them. They had never talked about it. But Edgar didn’t want to ram Lance without letting him have a chance to cum too, so when he nutted, he kept his dick in Lance’s ass and lifted him up. Edgar lay on his back then, his dick rapidly limpening and rubbing against Lance’s prostate.
An orgasm was already ripping through Lance’s body. Now that he wasn’t crushed by Edgar’s muscles, Lance wanted to shout but didn’t out of respect for the other roughnecks. It took all of his concentration to avoid being loud. He allowed Edgar to roll him over without even taking his dick out, until Lance was mounted on Edgar’s cock and stroking himself off as he groped Edgar’s chest and nipples.
Edgar was splayed out as Lance orgasmed. Edgar didn’t much care about this — he liked giving Lance an orgasm, of course, both because it made him feel good about himself and because it meant Lance was more likely to do this again, but he was just ready for Lance to be done. So he let Lance feel up his muscles while his sensitive, softening dick filled up Lance’s ass, which dripped cum onto his thighs.
Lance sprayed his wad all over Edgar’s chest. Edgar would have been grossed out, maybe terrified of it, if he could see that happening. He would have freaked out and made Lance stop. He would have never done it if he could see another man’s cock cumming all over him or watch a man’s load coat his belly. But in the dark, nobody could see that was what happened, and Edgar could just close his eyes and enjoy the feelings that arose from his own dick. He pretended that that wasn’t a pool of cum spreading over his hairy chest.
Finally it was over. “Hmmmmm…” Lance sighed. He pulled off Edgar’s dick, which was now limp and spongy, fully spent. Lance had a container of wetnaps he kept with him, which he used to wipe up the cum off Edgar’s dick, chest and thighs.
By then, Edgar was virtually asleep — the cold of the wetnap kept him from actually sleeping, but he was dozing. When Lance finally curled up next to him, wrapping his arms and legs around Edgar’s body to fit between him and the wall, Edgar was sound asleep and snoring again. Lance massaged his chest muscles because he loved the feel of a muscular man’s sleeping body — there was something intensely arousing about that.
Eventually though, Lance was asleep too, deep in the warm embrace of Edgar’s arms. He nuzzled Edgar’s neck and sighed as he drifted off to slumber.
He loved his job. Especially the nights.

The Frat Boy Bottoms

When Avery attends a college party, he never thought he’d get to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with a studly frat bro named Chad. But not only does that happen, Chad is willing to bend over and take it however Avery wants to give it, as long as Avery puts in a good word with a woman. That gives Avery an incredible opportunity to explore the world of Twink on Top!

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Avery came to the Omega Omicron Tau party with Claire Quentin, who was possibly the hottest girl in the entire nursing college. She knew it too. Men reacted like cartoon dogs when a pretty girl-dog walks by and their dog-jaw literally drops to the ground while their dog-heart pounds out of their chest. The frat boys blushed as they stared at her beautiful body and sweet face. Her body parts jiggled in a most delightful way with every step she took, like a sultry stack of jello. Avery sighed and beat back his jealousy.
They were all young enough that the genders didn’t mix too much once the party began. Everyone was too awkward for that. The couples danced together, and eventually made their way upstairs or into the pantry to make out. Meanwhile the single boys remained in their own little huddle, drinking, daring each other to drink more and insulting each other’s ability to hold their alcohol. The single girls danced and giggled with each other, sneaking glances at the boys whenever they thought no one was looking.
“Hey, Lisa Anne, which one do you think is cutest?”
“Chad.” Lisa Anne blushed and giggled.
“Chad,” said Brenda, without even being asked. Everyone laughed as the boys glanced over, especially Chad, who seemed to have heard that the girls were talking about him. He tried — and failed — to look like he was not eavesdropping.
It was only Avery who felt equally at home among the women and the boys. He smiled to Chad. “I was just telling these total sluts what a hottie you were.” Chad turned bright red even as he forced a cocky smile on his face. “I’m on your side, Chad,” Avery said and made a mock black-power salute.
Avery and the other girls continued to drink daiquiris and sneak glances at the boys, especially Chad. Chad was a square-jawed all-American type, with blond hair and a perfect little nose. He was muscular and athletic, and he was rumored to have a giant dick. That was the only thing Avery could think about every time he saw Chad. He didn’t know if it was true, but he hoped it was. Chad kind of moved like he had a big dick.
“Seven Minutes in Heaven! Remember that?” Lisa Anne asked, snapping Avery back to reality. He enjoyed watching Chad’s neck muscles writhe as he chugged a beer to the chanting and whoops of his buddies.
“Ohmigod, Lisa Anne that is such a good idea! I haven’t played that since in forever!”
“Boys, do you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?!” The girls laughed as the boys hesitated, then agreed all at once — none of them wanted to seem like the loser who didn’t want to play along. There were more fraternity brothers from the university than sorority sisters from the nursing college at this party, even though it was a sorority party. That was simply because GHU was much bigger than the women’s nursing college.
Not that there were too many men for Avery. He greatly appreciated the male form and would have been fine with no women at all. More than fine. Well, without women, there’d be no way to get the men to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. Frat boys will do anything for the chance to bang a sorority girl. So Avery did find women useful in that sense.
They all sat in a circle, while Lisa Anne found an empty beer bottle. There were only four closets in the house, which was going to limit the game. The whole point of Seven Minutes in Heaven was that they needed to have some privacy. So only four pairs were going to be able to play at once.
Avery felt a twinge of awkwardness. He hung back, not quite in the circle but not out of it either. He wasn’t sure at first if they would even want to include him. He wasn’t a student at GHU, he just lived near the campus and hung out there often.
“C’mon, Avery, the boys will be good sports about it. If the bottle points to you… They’ll follow the rules,” Lisa Anne said, her cheeks turning red as she giggled with Claire. “Right, boys? Us girls will go in a closet with each other if that’s what the bottle says.”
None of them spoke at first. Then one of the frat boys, Nail, grumbled, “Yeah fine.”
Avery wondered what would happen if he really did end up in a closet with a girl. Would he be able to handle it? They sat alternating genders. Avery kind of wished he hadn’t agreed to play, but he desperately wanted a chance to spend seven minutes in heaven with one of these guys. One in particular — Chad, with the dick large enough to have its own rumor mill.
Lisa Anne spun first since it was her idea to play the game. The bottle pointed to Nail, who was cute and well-muscled, with a perfectly coiffed hairdo. He beamed broadly, and breathed an audible sigh of relief that he ended up with hot blonde Lisa Anne and not Avery or the fat chick. Lisa Anne squealed with delight and scurried off to the front closet with him.
Chad sat next to Lisa Anne, so it was his turn to spin next. He watched Claire, the sexy chick in a slutty dress, as though he could will the bottle to point to her. She was so pretty few of the boys ever looked away from her. They were like puppies watching a can of dog food get opened.
Since Claire sat next to Avery, he and Chad both made a hopeful face when the bottle slowed down in that direction.
But then it landed on Avery.
It took the circle of drunken college students a few moments to realize what had happened, then they all lapsed into squeals of laughter. The girls giggled and clutched each other, while the boys slapped their own thighs, falling over each other in exaggerated and drunken laughter.
Chad blushed but nodded dourly. His broad shoulders twitched. He glanced at Claire as though hoping she would give him permission to say no. But she just giggled and hid her face in her best friend’s arms. He walked towards the closet in the hallway, trembling though he tried to hide it with a cocky, heavy-footed strut.
“Wait,” Avery said, flipping his limp wrist in Chad’s direction. “Aren’t you going to carry me across the threshold?”
Chad’s face turned an even brighter cranberry red, as the assembled partygoers erupted in whoops and catcalls. But he looked past Avery to the girls, especially Claire, and whatever he saw there apparently suggested he should do whatever it took to keep her laughing. Chad stripped off his shirt, revealing a chest that was even more sculpted than Avery had thought, and he plastered on a big fake smile. There were thick tufts of hair over his bulging pecs, and his muscles roiled with anxiety.
It all happened so fast, and before Avery realized that his joke worked, Chad had swept him up in his arms. Avery swooned, exaggerating his reaction, though there was a big kernel of truth in his squeals of desire that he blurted out like some romance novel heroine. His face nuzzled those iron-hard bulging biceps as Chad squeezed him into the tiny closet at the end of the hall.
In the end, there was simply no way to carry someone across that particular threshold. Chad had to put Avery down on his feet and they crammed into the tiny closet. Avery shut the door behind him, then took out his cell phone. He set the timer for seven minutes (and then when Chad looked away, Avery added another thirty seconds).
“You don’t have to do anything,” Avery said, disappointed in himself for saying it. But he’d feel bad pawing all over Chad if he didn’t want to do it. Just being in his arms for a few seconds had been thrilling enough.
Well, not enough. But you know, Avery could live with it.
Chad breathed a sigh of relief. “Look…” he said, the anxiety evident even in the dimly lit closet. “I’ll do whatever you want, if you can get Claire to hook up with me.”
“What?”
“Put in a good word for me. Tell her I’m cool. She listens to you,” he said. “I’ll let you jerk me off or whatever if you want.”
“Other way around, big guy,” Avery said. He meant it as a joke as he said it, but he realized even before he had finished speaking that Chad was more comfortable with this than Avery had assumed. He was embarrassed about it in front of his friends, but now that they were in the closet alone, he didn’t seem to mind Avery’s hands clutching his toned torso. Avery tweaked his nipples and let his fingers roam up and down Chad’s perfect chest and torso.
“What?” He had that dumb-frat-boy look on his darkened face. Avery kissed him on the neck, and his muscles bristled, tensing beneath Avery’s grasp.
Swallow his dick, Chad! You’ll love how it tastes!
Do it, broh!
The other frat boys laughed at each other as they catcalled to Chad, who just rolled his eyes and ignored them.
“I wanna be on top,” Avery said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. In truth, he would have jumped at the chance to jerk off Chad or even just tweak his nipples once. But he was drunk enough to ask for more than that, and he got the impression Chad would do anything for a chance to get laid by Claire, so Avery thought he might as well shoot for the moon.
“You want…?”
“I won’t tell anyone. I’ll tell them I just jacked you off,” Avery said. “They’ll never know. But I can get Claire to go out with you.”
“Really?”
“I can’t promise she’ll put out. But if you take her to that French restaurant on Market, and you don’t ask her for a blowjob, she’ll probably at least give you a handie,” Avery said. “If you’re not pushy, she’ll give up the pussy on date three.”
“Really?!”
Avery nodded. “She’s told me her schedule. She doesn’t like pushy guys. You gotta pretend you don’t care if she puts out or not.”
“Oh,” he said like that was an impossible request.
“So come on,” Avery said. “You’re really gonna give it up? I’ll put in the world’s best word for you with her. I’ll tell her you saved my cat.”
“Is that a metaphor?”
“What? No, I have an actual cat. I’ll tell her it ran away and you grabbed it right before a car ran over it. No, a truck, a truck almost ran over it,” Avery said. Then he thought for a moment. “Wait, no, a truck did run over it, a truck driven by a greasy redneck who didn’t notice because he was distracted catcalling a girl. You rescued it and brought it to a vet and paid for emergency treatment. Then you brought it back to me. Her name is Buttfucker, by the way.”
“Your cat’s name is Buttfucker?”
“Long story.”
“I don’t have enough money to pay for emergency vet surgery-“
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart,” Avery said, hugging his big dumb chest close. “The cat wasn’t actually run over by a truck. If she asks, you don’t have money because you spent it all on surgery. She’ll believe that.”
“Oh, yeah, good idea,” he said.
“I know. Boys are so dumb. You were probably planning on taking her to Olive Garden or something.”
“What’s wrong with Olive Garden?”
“Taking a girl to Olive Garden is kinda like saying you’re such a slut I don’t need to woo you at all, but since I’m a gentleman, I’ll buy you a boatload of shit-covered carbs in the hopes of making you too tired to bother saying no. It’s not a romantic place, Chad. Don’t ever take a girl to Olive Garden. You’re better off giving her a few slices of buttered bread and a glass of tap water.”
“Wow, geez, is that what went wrong with Anne?”
“Anne Slattery, from Beta Kappa Tau?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that really where you took her? Ohmigod, yes, that’s a problem, that’s where you went wrong. She has class, Chad, she’s from Connecticut. You can’t take someone like that to Olive Garden. Egads,” Avery said, “What do they teach you boys in school?”
“Chemistry,” he said with a long low sigh of regret.
Avery rammed his hands down Chad’s pants and shivered with delight as he felt the frat boy’s limp cock dangling in the humid jungle of his crotch. It was just as big as they said, and its meaty thickness gave Avery a startlingly intense wave of desire. Avery gave it a squeeze as he used his other hand to undo Chad’s pants.
Chad grimaced but did the same. He pushed his hand into Avery’s pants and wrinkled his nose as he gave Avery’s cock a limp, lifeless stroke. Avery didn’t mind that so much. His awkward fumbling was half the attraction, Avery thought, and it more than made up for his awkward technique.
“So, uh, do I just… get on my knees?” Chad asked.
“Of course. Haven’t you ever had a blowjob?”
“I didn’t know if guys did it differently,” Chad said. He slowly sunk to his knees as he undid Avery’s belt. He pulled down his designer underwear and looked away as Avery’s dick twitched and spasmed in front of his face. His hot breath condensed on the shaft. “You promise you’ll tell her I’m a good guy?”
“Baby, I’ll talk you up so good she’ll marry you,” Avery said. He put his hands on his hips, heart pounding — he never thought Seven Minutes in Heaven would be this heavenly. A full minute was already gone.
A part of Avery still thought Chad would back out right up until he held his breath, opened his mouth and swallowed Avery’s dick. He gagged as soon as it hit the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop. He was determined to get the whole thing in his mouth.
You can hold him down and ram him, Avery! We’ll all back you up, Chad was dressed like a girl. He’s been totally begging for it all night! The boys who hadn’t been chosen in the game laughed as though this was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Chad blushed in the dark. He loves it in the ass, okay? He shoves everything up there: carrots, dicks, dick-shaped carrots, a manual on carving carrots into dicks, he’ll take anything up the ass!
Yeah, he loves being fisted! Absolutely loves it! And when he says no, that’s his way of saying ‘fist me harder’!
His tongue slathered spit up and down the shaft, sending waves of sensation up Avery’s spine. Avery gripped his broad shoulders, holding him tight. His knees went weak from a combination of pleasure and anxious relief that it had begun. He reached down to caress Chad’s strapping back muscles.
That felt so good Avery couldn’t help but moan. His voice wavered, and he held onto Chad’s powerful body for support. Chad seemingly didn’t realize how good he was at servicing Avery’s cock — men were always better at that than women because they have the equipment and know how to make it feel good. Chad didn’t know enough to know he could do it badly. His tongue battered Avery’s cock, and Chad’s big mitts gripped Avery by the smoothness of his pale asscheeks.
“Can I ram you?” Avery asked, holding his breath. He assumed Chad would say no, but he felt he had to ask. He could already tell that Chad had a perfectly firm pair of asscheeks, and normally Avery would just ask if he could give him a rimjob. Chad had a very rimjobbable ass. But since Chad seemed to be willing to bottom, Avery figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Chad pulled off his dick and hesitated. “I dunno,” he said. “I don’t like the taste of cock, so that’d be… But won’t that hurt? I don’t have any lube with me. Do you just stick it in?”
Avery shrugged. “I can provide the lube. I know how to do it.”
“You carry lube with you?”
“I’ll use nature’s lube,” Avery said with a giggle. He stuck his tongue out and licked the air, miming out a rimjob.
“Really?” Chad said with a sick smile. “You’ll lick my ass?”
Avery nodded. “You ever had a rimjob?”
“Only black guys ever get rimjobs,” Chad said. Then he stammered as though he hadn’t mean to say that. “I mean… The only two guys I know who ever got a rimjob are both black. It’s no big deal.” He excitedly bent over, gripping the door handle and spreading his asscheeks by pulling his legs far apart. “Not in a racist way. Just, girls give black guys rimjobs more than white guys.”
Oh…,” Avery said. He had no idea that that was true. He’d have to ask his female friends wht that is. “There’s so much I don’t know about girls. It’s a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, and smelling of fish tacos.” He sunk to his knees and dove face-first into Chad’s ass. His cheeks were just as firm as Avery had imagined, and his powerful thighs were tensed tight. Chad’s whole body was tight right now, as both anxiety and arousal kept him flexing hard.
Avery’s tongue ran all the way up and down the crack first, shuddering as he ran overtop that grimy tight hole. Avery loved to give rimjobs to men with intact asses, so he had to really push to get his tongue in there. Chad’s muscles rippled when his tongue passed the rim and teased his sensitive prostate. His ass tasted clean too, like cheap soap and the scrubbed linoleum of a group shower, a little bit of the scent of sweat-soaked elastic seeping into Avery’s nostrils from the edges of his ass, where the straps of the jockstrap he often wore would be.
He flicked his tongue in, which made Chad yelp as a twinge of pleasure — and maybe a bit of pain too — ran up his spine. But Avery was inexorable, lapping at the beautiful brown hole until he could easily get his entire tongue in there.
Then Avery stood. Chad shuddered again in anticipation as Avery spat into his palm, then used that hand to cover his own dick in spit. When it was good and slick, Avery wedged it in between Chad’s cheek and shoved the tip in before he could tighten his ass all over again.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked when Chad threw his head back and let out a hushed howl.
“Yeah…” Chad said, his voice trailing off. He panted as Avery’s dick slid in bit by bit. “We only got like two minutes left. Can you cum that quickly?”
“With an ass like that, I could cum in ten seconds if I was going for speed,” Avery said with a smile. He humped slowly at first, gradually building up speed when Chad didn’t complain too much. He did wince and grimace, but there was a surprised pleasurable tone to his voice — it didn’t hurt as bad as he had thought it would, and a part of him exulted in his prostate’s sensitivity sending shockwaves through his system.
Avery’s orgasm began almost immediately. He wanted to slow himself down, but he knew Chad would back out as soon as the seven (and a half) minutes were up. So he kept himself going even as he shot his load embarrassingly quickly. Huge gobs of it flooded Charlie’s body, more than Avery had ever shot before.
But not before experiencing such intense pleasure that Avery wondered if frat boy ass would forever be ruined for him. No other man’s ass would ever be as tight and perfect, quivering like a bowl full of jelly, as Chad’s. His asshole clenched around Avery’s dick as he moaned, then bit his lip to avoid making too much noise. Both him and Avery struggled not to cry out loud.
They both groaned. Luckily it sounded like the party had moved to one of the other closets, where they listened and giggled at whichever couple was in there. Chad’s face was bright red as he closed his eyes, trying to take every inch of Avery’s dick. Each thrust into his ass sent a spurt of pain through Chad’s body and an explosion of pleasure through Avery’s.
Finally the end came, and Avery felt a twinge of regret as cum flowed from his dick — he wished he had had more time within Chad’s plump, juicy ass. He squirmed, spraying his load over every inch of Chad’s insides. He shivered with desire as intense pleasure rocketed up and down his body. It was so intense his fingers tightened into claws that ripped at Chad’s smooth back.
It continued for what felt like forever. Avery’s orgasm seemed to be more than seven and a half minutes in itself, but the alarm didn’t go off. He filled Chad up with his seed and stayed there, still, savoring the feel of Chad’s ass tightening up around his dick. Cum dripped down between Chad’s thighs. Every time either one of them moved it sent a whole new wave of sensations to wrack both men’s bodies.
Chad groaned and pulled off. He gasped as his ass emptied, and he breathed deeply. He was relieved when he sunk slowly to the ground on weakened knees. Then he winced when he put weight on his aching ass. He rolled onto his side and struggled to his feet.
“There, there, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Avery asked.
Chad shook his head. “It hurt,” he said. “A lot. But no. It wasn’t that bad.” He blushed intensely. “It did hurt though.”
“It always hurts the first time. It’ll feel better next time.”
“There is definitely not ever gonna be a next time,” Chad said, his voice suddenly hostile. He glared at Avery. “I’m not doing this again, and you better follow through.”
“I will, I will, I promise,” Avery said. He pulled out his cell phone, just seconds before the seven-minute alarm he had set went off. “I’m texting her now. I’ll tell her you have a fantastic dick.” Though a part of him wanted to brag about what happened, he knew that if he followed through and Chad ended up getting laid, the other frat boys would find out. Chad would probably just tell them that he allowed Avery to jack him off, but Avery was alright with that — he would gladly jack off every single frat boy in this house right now if they’d let him.
You two done making out in there? I’m pretty sure it’s been seven minutes. That was Lisa Anne’s voice, outside the closet.
Avery opened the door and smiled. They were both dressed now. It smelled like sex in the closet, but he didn’t think Lisa Anne noticed. It smelled strongly of beer outside the closet, which probably overpowered the semeny scent inside.
“Yeah, we’re done,” Chad said. He pumped his biceps and held his shirt in his hands as he flexed his pecs. Lisa Anne swooned, blushed and tried to hide how aroused she was. Chad gently pushed Avery out of the way. “He got fresh, but I gave him seven minutes to remember.”
Before Chad could react, Avery lowered his head and sucked on his left nipple. His pec was hard like a volleyball, which made Avery want to plow him all over again. Chad’s eyes bugged out, and Avery pulled away.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Avery said, breathlessly exaggerating how tired he was, as though being in Chad’s presence had exhausted him. He collapsed into Lisa Anne’s arms as they all hurried back to the main room.
The circle had reformed. The bottle was in play, and Avery sat down, getting ready for his second go. He smiled and glanced around at all the frat boys, wondering which one he would get next.
This party, he thought, was turning out better than he ever thought it would be.

The Dumbass

Avery runs into a handsome dumbass at a store, only to realize he’s got an opportunity for rough trade. This lovable idiot just wants some dough, and he’s willing to give Avery a taste of his slacker-jock meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was at Randall’s Candles. He was in Martinsburg for a wedding, and he needed a nice present. The woman getting married loved candles. Avery thought he might find some sort of ultra-luxury candle, or maybe a candle-making kit, but he found nothing of the sort.
What he did see was a tall, broad-shouldered man walk in. He was scruffy, thick-bodied, strong without quite being muscular. He looked rather like a frat boy, but Avery got a strong whiff of dumbness in him and suspected that he did not go to college (or if he did, it was on an athletic scholarship). His face was round and cute enough, not a babyface, just round like the sun, like a sexy Winnie the Pooh. His smile was crooked and everpresent and reeked of idiocy.
Sexy but not handsome, not by a long shot. If he cleaned up, he might be handsome. He had a good body though. Definitely not a six-pack, which was not a problem for Avery. He appreciates a man with a meaty physique. This dark blond man was more of an eat-cereal-for-dinner guy, quite possibly an eats-cereal-with-beer-instead-of-milk kind of guy.
The man’s loudly sniffed one of the candles. He put it in his arms, then grabbed another. His deep bass voice rang out. “This one smells like mango… What’s chut-ney?! Oh, I like this one!”
“Hey, Jimmy,” said the employee, a portly Goth-adjacent woman with dyed black hair, a dour face and a ‘Gina’ nametag. She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Hi Gina, did you get any new ones in? I need my usual shipment,” he said. Jimmy looked at Avery and nodded. “‘Sup, hey.”
“Hi,” Avery said. He blushed. He wasn’t expecting to see such a handsome young man in here. The scented-candle shop usually had an exclusively female clientele, despite the name suggesting a man owned it. (There was no “Randall” behind Randall’s Candles though.) “Lemme guess, you’re buying something for your girlfriend? Who’s… an English major?”
“Ha, no, good guess though, my last girlfriend was an English major. She was into poetry and like books and stuff.” He frowned and made a thumbs-down gesture. “She dumped me though.”
“Sorry, man,” Avery said as sympathetically as he could manage.
He shrugged and said, “She dumped me because of inconsiderateness and not being… not saying things when she was… like, upset. Or whatever. Or not, like… sometimes, saying too much. Like, she said I didn’t get it or even, uh… it was about listening too much. Or not enough.” As he talked he tapped on the counter, waiting for Gina to return.
“So, do you really have a ‘usual shipment’?” Avery asked. “You must buy a lot of candles.”
Jimmy blushed and bit his lip. His tapping on the counter gradually turned into full-scale drumming, but it stopped as he turned red. “I just like candles. I like… I read this book — or, my other ex-girlfriend did, really. But she showed me all the good parts, I read them, the parts that she showed me, I did, I read it all,” he explained this in a rush like Avery was going to scold him for not doing his own work. “It was about smelling, and how it has an effect on stuff. Like if you smell something, something happens. You know? Like, in you. It happens in you. It’s like, good for… you. So, she made me put on a pine-forest candle when I worked out. She said it was good for physical… for getting your pump on. Like exercise. Or whatever. So I did it and then she dumped me because I wanted anal too much and my dick was too big. And I liked the forest thing when I work out, it does help me lift more, you know. Or whatever. My coach kept track of my workouts back when I was in college, and he said it was better, cuz I was doing the lifting and all. Aerobic exercise too.” He blinked. “Hey, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that part about fucking her in the ass.” He smiled. “I mean… having sex with her in her ass.” He cocked his head to the side. “I mean, having sex with her in her butt.” He smiled broadly as if expecting a medal for that.
“That’s okay,” Avery said. He was still dumbstruck by how cute Jimmy was, and Jimmy talked so fast it was hard to get a word in.
“Man, I like girls, and, um… boobs. You know about boobs? Boobs are awesome.” He looked into the back and saw Gina coming back to the front. She had a box of forest-scented candles.
“Sorry, Jimmy, the price on these went up,” Gina said. “Just a dollar though. The Homelife Essence series, they raised the price on all of them.”
“Again? The price keeps going up,” Jimmy said with a frown. He sighed and counted out his cash.
“Wait, Jimmy, let me,” Avery said. He handed over his credit card.
“Really? Awesome! Can I get one of those mango chutney ones?!” He was already running back to the shelf to get it. “Do you know what chutney is? Is it food?”
“Yes, it’s like… it’s just chopped up fruit, in a sauce.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“Usually just a bunch of spices and stuff.”
“So you can eat it?” Jimmy said as Gina rang up the candles.
Avery paused, unsure how stupid Jimmy actually was. “… Not the candle,” Avery said. “Actual chutney, yeah. It’s food. Don’t eat the candle.”
“Wow, I wonder what chutney smell is good for? Aroamingtherapy, that’s what you call it. Do you know? Do you think it’ll make me better at X-Box?” Jimmy asked. He was again shifting his weight back and forth like a hyperactive teenager (though he was clearly well into his twenties).
“Maybe,” Avery said. He caught a glimpse of Gina, who was politely bagging up Jimmy’s candles with a morose grimness to her face.
“So, why are you buying candles for me, man? Thanks a lot, by the way. Thanks. Thanks… Thank you. Thank you, sir.” He spoke with increasing seriousness every time he repeated himself. “Thank you.” He gave a bow. “My good sir.”
“No problem, Jimmy, glad to help. I actually have something you could do to earn some money,” Avery said. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested.” He walked out of the shop with Jimmy, who carried his scented candles.
“Oh cool, I need a new job, I hate delivering pizzas. Lemme call my boss and tell him to fuck off. He’s a prickface-“
“No, no-“
“He called his wife a bitch, which I think is wrong. I mean… it’s right, she is a bitch. But you’re not supposed to say that if you’re married to her. And he called Frankie a retard, which is totally not okay because he is a… He has… He’s messed up. It’s okay to call people retards if they’re not.” He paused. “I mean, I think you’re not supposed to do that either. But you’re really really not supposed to call actual retards retards.” He pulled out his phone. “Frankie’s hilarious anyway, he-“
“Jimmy, wait, don’t quit-“
“Hang on, I’m calling my boss. What’s this job you’re hiring me for?” He put the phone to his ear.
Avery could hear it ringing. “Wait! Jimmy, stop!” He grabbed the phone from him and hung up. “Jimmy, shut up, Jesus, listen to me for a minute. I’m not offering you a job. I’m offering you a one-time thing. It’ll take a couple hours, and then I’m leaving. Don’t quit your job. Christ, were you really going to quit because a stranger offered you a job? I didn’t even tell you what the job was or how much it paid.”
He blushed and smiled. “Oh yeah. It’s not a video game developer? That’s what I want to do. That’s what I was hoping for.” He looked genuinely surprised. Jimmy grinned. “They said you have to know about computers though.”
“Yeah, you have to know about computers,” Avery said, rolling his eyes. They were out of the mall now, in the parking lot. Jimmy said he walked to the mall today, so they went to Avery’s car.
“Or a stuntman. I think I’d be a good stuntman. See?” Jimmy flopped onto the ground and rolled back and forth like he was on fire. He screamed so loud he attracted attention from everyone else in the parking lot. Then he jumped to his feet and brushed gravel off his chest. “See? That was me on fire.”
“Cool, Jimmy. That’s neat. No, I’m not offering you a job as a stuntman.”
“So what is it? What is the job?” Jimmy finally asked. Avery couldn’t believe it had taken this long for him to actually ask what the job was. Avery wasn’t trying to hide it, Jimmy just kept talking, and Avery didn’t interrupt him. Avery unlocked his car, and Jimmy sat in the passenger seat.
“Wait… Jimmy… Just for future reference, when someone offers you a job, you should ask what that job is before you get in that stranger’s car,” he said. “And you should consider not getting in the car.”
“How else would I get the job? Should I ride on the roof? My uncle let me do that once when I was a kid. It was awesome. A ladybug flew up my nose. I think it’s still in there.”
Avery sighed. Jimmy was lucky he was cute. Avery didn’t want to sound threatening, so he didn’t explain his concerns in any detail. It was clear Jimmy would remain a fool for the time being regardless. “No, Jimmy. You’re fine. Just be careful, okay? Not everyone is as nice as me. Where do you live?”
Jimmy gave him directions, and he talked the whole way there. It wasn’t far. Avery parked outside a dingy apartment complex near a Taco Bell but not a good Taco Bell. Inside was a typical bachelor pad. It smelled like dirty clothes. There was a TV and a mattress, both on the floor. The trash can by the bed was filled mainly with used condoms and empty beer cans. A street sign reading Twitman Avenue was mounted on the wall — Jimmy later explained that he thought it said Twatman when he was drunk and didn’t realize until the morning that there was no joke there. Most of the living room was taken up by a bench press and free weights scattered around the floor.
“Do you wanna play X-Box?” he asked, running to the console like a kid on Christmas Day. He stopped himself. “Oh, wait, what’s this job? Do I need to wear nice clothes? I have a button-down shirt but there’s a stain on it that looks like pee. It’s not pee, it’s… well, I don’t know the polite word for it. Vaginajuice, I guess? Is that a word? Vagina pee?”
“Vagina pee is just pee, Jimmy.”
“Oh, yeah, I always forget women pee out of there.” He giggled like a schoolboy. “The thing about vaginas-“
“Stop talking about vaginas, Jimmy,” Avery said with a sigh. He watched as Jimmy lit a candle. The room filled with the scent of nuts and milk. Avery smiled. “I-“
“These are chestnuts. It’s a chestnut-eggnog candle. I think chestnut is a funny word, it makes me laugh every time I say it. I think its roaming therapy effect is… it makes me horny, but that’s probably not right. Oh wait, sorry, I mean… is that offensive? It makes me want girls. I think its roaming therapy is that it makes you wanna do it with hot chicks.” Then he blurted out, “With tits!”
“Jimmy…” Avery said. “Have you ever jacked off with a man? Or, y’know… cum in a guy?”
He had to be blunt to sneak the question in before Jimmy went off on another tangent. Jimmy cocked his head to the side like he didn’t understand the question. “What? No… Just y’know, pussy. Vagina, I mean. Vaginas. You know about vaginas, right?”
Avery narrowed his eyes to slits. “I’ve heard of them.” He sighed. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to put it in my ass. You can do it real hard, as hard as you want. And I’ll swallow your dick deeper than any girl.”
Jimmy didn’t respond. For the first time — possibly ever in his life — he was speechless for a long time. He blushed a deep, dark red. “Are you serious? Five hundred dollars!” He jumped up and down. “Wait… Are you serious? You want…?” He was barely able to contain his glee. “But wait… is that allowed?”
“What?”
“Like… won’t I get in trouble?”
“For messing around with me? No. It’s just like jacking off.”
“But you’re not… Isn’t that like… I dunno, racist or something?”
“How would that be racist?”
“Not racist, but, I don’t know… intolerant, or something? Is it okay?” His eyes were bugged out. His face was as red as a cranberry.
“Yes, Jimmy. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell anyone at all,” he said.
Jimmy thought for a long time. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can-“
“You can look at pictures of hot chicks while you do it.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?! Oh, wow, okay then. Sure. I’ll do that. No problem. I mean… what if…? You know, I don’t know if… What if I don’t…? Or if I can’t…?”
“You’ll get hard, Jimmy, don’t worry,” Avery said.
He took a deep breath. He looked more and more nervous with every passing moment, like he had agreed just thinking about the money and now wasn’t sure if he could do it. “Can they be Asian chicks?”
“Yeah. Take off your shirt,” Avery said.
He did so. He laughed. His face was red, as was his chest. Avery didn’t mind — there was nothing more arousing than a nervous alpha. Jimmy had an amazing body. It wasn’t perfect by any means, he had a few pounds of padding on his belly (he was tall enough that he still had a flat stomach, just no six-pack) and a generally meaty build. But he clearly worked out a lot, and his body brimmed with powerful muscles.
He laughed more as Avery kissed his nipple. His pecs rippled beneath Avery’s tongue. His rolling laughter made it difficult for Avery to suck on his muscle, but Avery enjoyed chasing his body with his tongue. His thickness jiggled every time he moved.
“Hey, wait a sec, oh holy shit…” Jimmy mumbled to himself. He went into his bedroom and came back out with a handful of erotic magazines. He sat on the bench press and flipped through one until he found a picture of a sexy Asian woman spreading her legs. He sighed. “Ah, yeah, okay.” He showed Avery. “I like Asian chicks,” Jimmy said. “Is that okay? And I appreciate the culture. Like the tits. Diversity.”
“Fine with me,” Avery said and kneeled in front of him. He touched Jimmy’s dick, which twitched and which made Jimmy’s whole body spasm and shake. Jimmy gasped. He leaned back to give Avery better access to his crotch. His dick twitched in Avery’s grasp.
Then he leaned all the way back and laid onto the bench press, like he was going to work out. He had his magazine in hand, holding it above his head. He gripped it tightly and stared at it like it was a liferaft and he was drowning.
Avery pulled his jeans down and whistled at sight of Jimmy’s massive cock. He wasn’t kidding about it being too big for anal (for most girls, not for Avery, of course). He gave it a stroke and Jimmy laughed again. Jimmy watched his cock throb in Avery’s hand as though it was an action film and he was eager to see how it ended.
His cock perked up as Avery licked it and slathered spit overtop it, letting saliva run down the spongy shaft. It pulsated and firmed up in seconds when Avery really got to slurping on the knob, while his hands gently stroked the sensitive skin of his ballsac. Jimmy had huge hefty balls that felt perfect in Avery’s grip. Soon his shaft was as hard as Jimmy’s muscles, and it throbbed atop Avery’s tongue.
A cacophony of sounds escaped from Jimmy’s mouth. He kept his eyes tightly focused on the magazine, but he gurgled and grunted, moaned, sputtered, laughed and coughed all at once. He glanced down once his dick got hard, then muttered, “Oh god…” and held a tight focus on the magazine. His chest rippled. “Hmmm…”
Once he was good and hard, Avery pulled off his dick, smacking his lips as he savored the first few drops of precum. Jimmy sighed and laughed some more. One of his arms gripped the magazine, the other flailed uselessly over his body — it looked like he had an urge to touch Avery’s head, to guide him up and down, but he didn’t want to touch a man.
He mounted Jimmy, who grunted and lowered the magazine so that it literally covered his face. Then he gagged and dropped it. “Oh, man, I forgot I nutted all over that like a million times. Tastes like cum. Oh man, that smells so nasty.” He covered his face with one forearm, laughing so hard he turned red.
“So do all girls tell you your cock is too big for anal?” Avery asked as he lowered himself onto Jimmy’s dick.
Jimmy bit his lip and bucked. His hands fluttered above his chest, then grabbed the bench press beneath him — the bench was much narrower than his body, so it was awkward and it forced his muscular chest upwards, off the bench. Jimmy laughed and blushed. “Yeah. Yeah. Most girls won’t do it, at least not more than once.” He was about to add something else, but then moaned violently. His cock slid the rest of the way into Avery’s ass. “Oh god, that feels good… Just like a girl, kinda…” His eyes bugged out, and he kept his hands behind his head.
Avery grunted. He was momentarily overcome by pain and pressure in his ass. He struggled to accept it, and his ass gradually loosened. He swayed back and forth, making Jimmy gasp and sputter all over again.
Avery lifted himself up and slid back down Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy responded like he was tied up and had to struggle against the ropes. But of course he wasn’t tied up, the only reason he struggled was that Avery was atop him and Jimmy didn’t want to touch Avery, so there was nowhere to put his hands. Jimmy put his hands on the bench press beneath himself instead.
His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch. Jimmy responded like he was ticklish to Avery’s fingers rubbing his muscles — though it was hard to tell if Jimmy was laughing at that, or just generally laughing, since he hadn’t really stopped since his dick got hard, or since the candle shop, really. Laughter seemed to be his default state. He looked down at his body slick with Avery’s saliva and nervous sweat and watched his cock disappear into Avery’s asshole.
“Oh god, man, I can’t believe… Hey does this mean I’m a gigolo?” Jimmy asked. He covered his eyes again.
“Not technically,” Avery said, his voice tight and pinched as he accepted Jimmy’s massive manhood within him. “A gigolo gets paid by a woman for sex.”
“Do you know any women who…?”
“No. Sorry,” Avery said, orgasmic feelings welling up within him and making it hard to answer. “I think gigolos are fictional.”
“Can I tell people you were a woman?”
Avery smiled, closing his eyes briefly as wafts of pleasure spread up his body from his sensitive ass. Jimmy had no idea how much his cock was stimulating Avery’s prostate, making him writhe atop Jimmy’s rod. Avery’s hands explored the muscles of Jimmy’s chest. “I guess. But you could always do that, Jimmy.”
“What?”
“You could have made up a woman paying you for sex anytime. You could have made that up yesterday. You don’t need me to make that okay,” Avery said. His voice wavered and broke, as bliss flowed through his veins. His own cock throbbed in his hand.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so. But this way, maybe people will believe me,” Jimmy said.
Avery didn’t see the logic of that, but he didn’t want to argue about it. He just said okay and kept riding his dick. Jimmy was on the verge of orgasm too. His veiny cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s ass.
“Hey do you know Terry?”
“What?”
“He’s my neighbor. He’s weird,” Jimmy said. He blushed even deeper red — Avery got the feeling Jimmy responded to anxiety (and everything else) by talking, that was why he was rambling. Jimmy frowned. “He always looks at me… Do you think he’d pay me too? I could do this again. He’s kinda… old. He’s like forty.”
“I don’t know him, Jimmy. You could ask. He might do it,” Avery said. “Now be quiet so you can cum.”
After a pause, Jimmy said, “I can cum when I talk. I talk a lot during sex. My girlfriend said I talk too much-“
“You do. She was right. Hush,” Avery said, his eyes closed, both hands massaged Jimmy’s flexing pecs. “If you’re gonna talk, it’s gotta be dirty talk.” He wanted to explain further and get Jimmy to do some dirty talk — he got the feeling Jimmy would giggle through it, but it would be fun to try. But the pressure and incipient orgasm in his ass made it impossible to focus.
“Oh, right. Like this…” He cleared his throat. “Oh, god, baby, yeah…” He kept laughing through his “dirty-talk”, which ruined the dirtiness of it.
Then, as though he was utterly shocked by it, Jimmy orgasmed. His laugh cut off in the middle, and his muscles all tensed at once. His face was tight and pinched like he was in agonizing pain. He looked at Avery for the first time since this had begun.
Avery climaxed too, shooting his load into the palm of his hand, some of it spilling onto Jimmy’s chest. A giant wad of cum filled up his ass, spraying jet after jet of creamy hot cum into his insides. Avery squirmed and gasped, his hands caressing Jimmy’s taut muscles.
Their simultaneous orgasms lasted what felt like forever to Avery. He loved getting plowed by straight boys. There was nothing better, he thought as he exulted in the unkempt scent of Jimmy’s body and the feel of his sticky cum seeping into Avery’s flesh. Jimmy shot a huge load, his whole body shaking, hair flying back and forth like a shaggy dog drying itself.
“Hell yeah…” Jimmy said with a tight grunt. He screwed up his eyes when he saw Avery’s cupped hand, in which he caught his own jizz, overflowed, meaning Avery’s cum coated Jimmy’s belly and ribs. “Ewww…” Jimmy said, but he was still moaning from the sensations in his cock too, as he spewed his last few drops of jizz up Avery’s guts.
Finally it was done. To tease Jimmy, Avery remained on his cock, shifting his hips back and forth. Every motion sent a wave of staggering pleasure through Jimmy’s body, making his muscles ripple, his scruffy hair tremble, his upper lip shake. Jimmy groaned, his face remaining a bright red dappled with sweat.
Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a wordless moan. Avery giggled. He bent down and kissed each of Jimmy’s nipples, then pulled off his dick. Jimmy sighed grandly, his whole body spasming at Avery’s touch, and he limply flopped onto the bench press beneath him.
“Thanks, Jimmy. That was really hot…”
Avery looked for some tissues to clean himself and Jimmy with, but there were none in the living room. He found some paper towels in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but peer into the refrigerator too — it was a standard bachelor fridge, nothing but condiments, beer, hot dogs and leftover pizza. Avery slipped another fifty dollar bill in the fridge and added a note that read use this to buy real food, Jimmy. He left it unsigned, figuring Jimmy would probably think it a message from God.
He went back out to the living room. Jimmy’s body gleamed with sweat, but he had wiped the jizz off himself with his tee shirt, which now lay on the floor. He was limp all over, half-asleep. He grumbled when Avery wiped his dick off with a moistened paper towel. He lifted his head enough to watch Avery handle his meaty shaft, then laid back down.
He seemed to have totally forgotten about the money. Avery could have just walked right out. But he didn’t. He placed five hundred dollar bills on Jimmy’s pecs.
“Bye, Jimmy. Good luck.”
He lazily lifted one hand to wave goodbye. “Later, dude. Come by and see me again sometime.”

The Linebacker Bottoms

This game of Truth Or Dare is getting out of control! That’s because football linebacker Davy and two sorority chicks are so drunk they’ll do anything they’re dared to. Luckily for Avery, that includes bending over and taking one for the team! Avery is a cute little twink who never thought he’d top a massive alpha male football jock who’s too thick for girls! Can Avery satisfy Davy’s football-toned thickness?

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Read the whole thing here!

When Avery came into the kitchen at Omega Omicron Tau House, he didn’t think anyone was still partying. He hoped to find some bread he could eat before the long walk back home. It promised to be a long, lonely walk. He wasn’t a college student, he just lived near campus and often found himself at college parties.
Much to his surprise, there were still partysimps milling about in the kitchen. Some girls he didn’t know appeared to have had the same idea — eating bread and butter as though it was ambrosia, hoping to sober up. But there was still a trio laughing and drinking as well. They giggled around the kitchen table: two of them were Lisa Anne and Brenda, two Omega Omicron Tau sisters and friends of Avery’s. The third was Davy, a burly white football jock with a square jaw, an awkwardly shy grin and a hefty body crawling with muscle. He was too big and crude and hairy to be cool and get invited to the cheerleader parties. Avery had been daydreaming about those muscles ever since glimpsing Davy shirtless at football practice the other day.
He was only here because the other football players were here. Everybody was invited to this rager. He was only here — in the kitchen right now — because everyone else on the football team was either passed out drunk or drunkenly fucking someone, probably a cheerleader, in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Some might have drifted into the house next door, which was Mosley House, one of the off-campus partyhaunts.
“Oh my god, Avery, you have to join in!” Lisa Anne said. “We’re gonna play Truth or Dare with Davy.” She and Brenda sat together, near Davy, who burped and blushed at himself. He raced to nod, but he was drunk enough to move slowly, and it looked like his nod threw his head off-balance.
Davy was not the kind of football jock who was successful with women. That was why he stayed up even so drunk he could barely stand — the girls were paying attention to him, and he didn’t want that to end. Lisa Anne and Brenda wouldn’t give him the time of day when they were sober. Alcohol was the great equalizer in a way, Avery thought. We are all equal at the bottom of a cup of tequila. Lisa Anne and Brenda giggled, and Avery could tell they were giggling at Davy’s bigness.
Their teasing laughter did not bother Davy. He was so girl-starved he would do literally anything they said, including drink until he was queasy. Lisa Anne and Brenda normally only hung out with the six-packed prettyboy football players. Jimmy, Raython, Ted, Bodie, Ezekiel, George, Charlie. Davy was the exact opposite of that. The girls were squealing and laughing, drunk as hyenas, clutching his arms — treating him like an ugly puppy, whose ugliness somehow makes him even cuter.
“That’s a baby’s game,” Avery said with a grin, “But yes. I’ll join in.” He hoped someone would dare Davy to take off his shirt soon. He probably wanted to go shirtless, as it was warm in here and Davy looked to have had the drunken sweats. His silver and red jersey was stuck to his skin near his armpits and down his ribs.
They were all drunk. Avery was sober-ish, but Davy was sloshed and the girls were blotto. Davy flexed his muscles beneath his jersey and his cargo pants, which was caused by anxiety, not a desire to be seductive. Davy was not the kind of man who knew how to be seductive. His pecs rippled like an earthquake, and that made his jersey ripple again and again.
“Davy keeps daring us to make out, he’s a pervert,” Lisa Anne said. She and Brenda giggled profusely, red-faced and bubbling. “But it’s your turn first, Avery. Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” he said. “Always dare.”
“Uh, lick the part of Davy’s body you most want to taste,” Brenda said, laughing so hard her face was red. Lisa Anne squealed like a piggie and hugged her close. The two of them hugged tightly through a sea gof giggles, which made them almost sway off their chairs and onto the beerspill-scented floor.
Davy bristled and forced a wan smile on his face. Avery grinned back at him. This was exactly why he came to sorority parties — you never knew when a bunch of jocks were gonna get naked. Avery loved frat boys, football players and big macho jocks like Davy, making him the ideal man for Avery.
“You can do it, Davy! If we can make out for you, you can let him lick your… whatever,” Brenda said, clutching Lisa Anne and hugging her as they giggled through the drunken hilarity of it all.
Avery looked at Davy bashfully, then lifted up his shirt. Rather than taking Davy’s shirt off — which Davy allowed for by leaning back in his chair and raising his arms — Avery simply inserted his head under Davy’s loose-fitting jersey. Avery loved the musty smell of his sweat-stains, which were intense under his shirt. Avery licked his nipples and every inch of his gigantic chest.
Davy took the jersey off anyway, and Avery blushed as he sat back up. The girls hooted and hollered. They stayed red-faced and laughing, but Davy outright cherried up. He looked at his feet and flexed his pecs again, making them ripple like an earthquake wracking a pair of mountains. The more the girls laughed, the more embarrassed he got and the more determined he was to not express his embarrassment.
Next up was Davy’s turn, and he murmured in his awkward, plodding baritone, “Truth.”
The girls hadn’t stopped giggling, but Lisa Anne managed to speak, through peals of laughter. “Have you ever been jacked off by a man?”
Davy remained red-faced. He was stony and silent at first, then a smile crept onto his face. “Well… Uh…”
“What is it?!”
“Oh my god, you have to tell us!” Lisa Anne positively screamed. Her and Brenda were clutching each other. This was the side of womanhood that Avery wasn’t a big fan of — the loud, screeching, ever-giggling side — but he was glad to have the opportunity to lick Davy’s chest, which Avery clutched from the side like a liferaft. He wondered how far Davy would let this go. The girls were so loud, Avery thought. When girls get drunk, their volume dial falls off.
“I let a guy jerk me off last year!” Davy blurted out. The girls cheered, but everyone else in the kitchen right now was either drunk enough to be passing out or was involved in their own private conversations. Davy cleared his throat and spoke over the girls’ laughter. “It’s tradition… Before the homecoming game, every player on the team has to let a man jerk him off.”
Lisa Anne and Brenda seemed to be expecting that, maybe they knew about the tradition. Probably do. They hang out with all the football players.
After that, the girls both picked Dare. Avery wanted to lightbulb up something funny for them to do, but Davy blurted that they should make out. They wasted no time in doing so. They were drunk enough that they merely fell over each other at first, but it soon evolved into a sloppy fascimile of two sorority sisters kissing. Lisa Anne even fingered Brenda, which she performed dramatically and expertly as though they did it all the time.
Maybe they did do it all the time. If Avery was a girl, he would. Why not?
Davy watched them groping each other with his eyes bugged out, tongue hanging from his mouth like a cartoon dog. His chest remained red, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat to accomodate what Avery was certain was a hardon.
“Dare,” Avery said, even before anyone pointed out it was his turn. “Always dare, darling.”
“Finger Lisa!” Brenda screamed, exactly like Davy had dared her to do just now. She guffawed in her best friend’s arms, both of them laughing so hard Avery wasn’t sure he could get his finger beneath their clothes.
Avery shrugged. Lisa Anne spread her legs and grunted like a macho man as Avery shoved his hand beneath her shorts.
Her vagina was hot and moist, not too dissimilar to fingering a man’s ass, a thin and bony man with an unpleasant ass. But still, Avery fingered her for a few seconds, and she suddenly stopped laughing, blushing as her pussy got moist beneath his touch. It looked like she hadn’t expect this to actually turn her on, but she was drunk enough to be an easy lay. Avery withdrew his finger and smelled it, making the whole circle laugh.
“Smells like nasty slut,” Avery said with a smile. “You been fuckin’ truckers again?”
“Oh fuck you!” Lisa Anne shouted. She mockingly slapped Avery, as her and Brenda descended into faux-accusations of sluttery.
Everyone’s eyes turned to Davy, who blushed. He opened his mouth and began to say ‘Truth’ again but Lisa Anne and Brenda interrupted him.
“You can’t just keep picking truth!” Lisa Anne said.
“If you don’t start picking Dare, we’re going to pick Truth,” Brenda said.
“Yeah. This isn’t fair. We’re doing all kinds of nasty stuff, come on!”
“Fine, fine,” Davy said. He licked his lips because Lisa Anne’s pouting involved her leaning forward, which gave Davy a perfect shot of her tits. He would have agreed to anything in that moment. “I’m game. I’m down for whatever.” He watched the girls giggle drunkenly in each other’s arms. “Dare.”
“Let Avery jerk you off!”
“No, no, wait, mess around with Avery, but let Avery be on top! Like prison shit.”
“Oh my god, yes, you’ll love it!”
“You totally will!”
“Ramrodding is prison shit, gu’l, you dunneed to know nuttin’ ’bout it.” Lisa Anne was doing an imitation of a black guy, someone who presumably told her about ramrodding. Avery was surprised, Lisa Anne and Brenda seemed too nice to know about that.
Nobody should tell girls about that stuff, Avery thought. They were all too drunk for him to say it out loud though.
Davy cleared his throat. It looked like his instinct was to say no, but he desperately wanted to keep playing and watching Brenda and Lisa Anne hook up in front of him. He scrupulously avoided eye contact with Avery, who was so shocked Davy didn’t refuse out of hand that he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“We’ll mess around at the same time! You can watch us!” Brenda said. Lisa Anne whispered in her ear, and they both giggled together. Their hands roamed over each other’s tits — over the clothes, but that was enough to make Davy’s eyes pop out.
Davy stuttered like a train. “Okay! Y-y-y-y-yeah… Okay. Okay. But we ain’t, uh, you know… we should-should-should, we should go somewhere, not doin’ it here, in here, in the kitchen, you know, where anyone can see.”
The girls agreed, still giggling so much they had trouble walking. They led Davy and Avery up the stairs to one of the unused bedrooms. The other two bedrooms had people passed out on the bed and on the floor, but this one was just a bed in a room, no other furnishings.
Davy stood there next to the bed, his red chest heaving for breath nervously beneath his loose-fitting jersey. He blushed and looked away when he happened to meet Avery’s gaze.
The girls immediately crawled on the bed and started kissing, hands groping each other’s bodies. Davy’s dick visibly jerked beneath his cargo pants. Avery grabbed it and stroked, which made Davy sigh. His muscles all relaxed at once.
Avery quickly took off his own clothes, then lifted Davy’s football jersey — Davy was too tall for Avery to take it off all the way himself, but he lifted it up and Davy removed it. His strapping chest was dappled with sweat, which Avery licked off. He slurped off the salt crystals that remained in every corner of Davy’s cavernous chest. That was exactly what he had imagined himself doing when he watched Davy shirtlessly practice with his teammates a few days ago, so it got him hard right away.
He pushed his hands down Davy’s pants and gave him a stroke. Davy had a massive dick that was already half-hard in the cotton prison of his jockstrap. Avery shivered as excitement coursed through his veins, and he tugged down that jockstrap. His cock popped out.
“C’mon, get to it, Davy!” Brenda said with a giggle before returning to kissing Lisa.
Avery leaned back on the bed and spread his legs. His dick hung, half-hard and ready. Davy sighed deeply, then kneeled down. Even as he did that, Avery wondered if he might back out. Davy had already gone farther than Avery had ever thought possible. Davy did not seem like the kind of linebacker who would ever bottom.
“Do it! Do it!”
He hesitated before sticking his tongue out. The girls chanted their encouragement, and Davy looked up at them before doing it. Then he closed his eyes again and, moving quick like he was ripping a bandaid off, he licked Avery’s shaft from tip to root, then gagged furiously when Avery’s dick jerked to attention.
The girls giggled and resumed making out themselves. Davy watched, mouth agape, his hips undulating as though he was trying to fuck the side of the bed. Avery pushed his dick in, deciding he needed to take charge of this situation or Davy would take forever.
“He’s doing it!” The girls squealed into each other’s bare breasts.
His dick jabbed into the back of Davy’s mouth, which was so big he could easily swallow all of Avery’s dick. Avery was surprised at how tenderly his tongue battered the shaft when he finally got into it, moaning into Avery’s crotch with every thrust of that dick inside his throat.
He soon stopped gagging and even seemed to almost not notice what he was doing, like he wanted desperately to forget so he didn’t think about it at all. He simply watched the girls take off each other’s clothes, writhing around on the bed together. Avery angled his body so he didn’t interrupt Davy’s view.
Davy’s tongue wrapped around Avery’s shaft, covering it with saliva. It was a hot and moist mouth. He drenched Avery’s crotch in his spit. He was a massive man with a massive throat, and he didn’t seem aware that he displayed extraordinary skill at swallowing Avery’s shaft. He didn’t even hesitate in going all the way down, until his fat nose nuzzled Avery’s crotch. Davy’s hands formed fists that dug at the mattress underneath him and Avery
The whole world came alive in Avery’s eyes, as intense shivers ran through his body. Davy’s tongue battered his cock. Avery moaned as pleasure assaulted his senses. Davy’s mouth was exquisite, and his amateur fumbling made it even better — an expert bottom with his skills and his cavernous throat could have got Avery’s nut off in seconds, and it was only his awkwardness that dragged out the exquisite sensations wracking Avery’s body. While Davy’s eyes remained pointed straight at the girls, Avery watched Davy’s curvy back muscles shift and flex as he moved up and down on Avery’s precum-leaking dick.
Davy made a sour face when he tasted that precum, but he didn’t move away. He just pretended it wasn’t happening and kept going. His eyes wildly flitted between Brenda and Lisa.
“Okay, boys, it’s time for you to move on,” Brenda said, now that her and Lisa Anne were naked. They were well beyond ‘making out’ now, they were all over each other, both of them watching Avery and Davy like they were a fascinating documentary. “We’ll sixty-nine, but we wanna watch some ramrodding.”
“Yeah, we dare you to let Avery ramrod you like a prison thug nigga-!”
“Yeah, like that nigga — keep it real, ramroddin’ bitches-!” They were both imitating some black guy again. They musta got catcalled or overheard a black guy on the subway or something. Avery didn’t want to ask because he was busy and besides, their response would be a long double-voiced story that was screamed by drunk banshees.
“Let him cum inside you!” Brenda shouted, her face turning red as she giggled into Lisa’s shoulder. They were both dizzy now, clutching each other because they laughed too hard to keep themselves upright.
Davy hesitated before nodding. He buried his head in the blankets while the girls giggled and pawed all over each other. Avery stood up, his head bonking Davy on the ear. Davy’s eyes stayed trained on the girls and their marvelously bare tits.
Avery’s dick dripped saliva, which was good because he was going to need a lot of lubricant if Davy’s ass was really intact, Avery thought. He arranged himself behind Davy’s burly body, standing on the floor next to the bed.
With his head resting on the mattress, Davy watched the girls like they were a lifeline and he was drowning in an ocean of dicks. Avery pulled his cargo pants down, then smiled at the sight of his big plump asscheeks.
The best thing about Davy’s ass, Avery thought, was how imperfect it was. Davy didn’t have the sculpted body of a quarterback or a lacrosse jock; he had a thick ass with plenty of padding, a bit of hair and a ruddy tone, rather than pure alabaster like most white guys in perfect shape. His asscheeks were like those pumpkins that win awards at county fairs, and Avery kneaded the soft flesh so he could savor the feel of the firm muscle underneath.
Avery spread his asscheeks. “Don’t worry, baby,” he said, patting Davy on the ass. “I’ll give you a reacharound.”
The girls laughed as they climbed on top of each other to start sixty-nining. Avery wedged his dick between Davy’s asscheeks but let it lay there at first, while he used one hand to get lube out of his pants pocket and his other hand snaked around to stroke Davy’s dick. Davy remained rock-hard, despite — or perhaps because of — his anxiety.
Avery worked the tip of his dick in but quickly felt resistance, along with a surge of intense pleasure that got his voice wavering. “You gotta loosen up, man, you’re bunched up tighter than Dick’s hatband. Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of lube and I’ll stop if it hurts too bad. Just relax, it’ll feel good once I get goin’.”
“Come on, Davy, open up…” Lisa Anne said. “We’re doing all this for you.”
Brenda giggled. “You’re not. You love this, you slut!”
“I do not! You’re the filthy slut!” They began mock wrestling on the bed, which made Davy moan with desire as he watched their drunken tits jiggle. It was exciting enough for him that it distracted him, and his ass loosened. His face was wide-eyed and excited.
Avery pushed his dick in before Davy could tighten up again. It was hot and soft and moist, better than any ass Avery had ever penetrated before. Davy moaned and grunted. He closed his eyes briefly, then resumed watching the girls, pretending nothing was happening in his ass. The lube helped a lot, and the spit that still dripped from Avery’s throbbing cock. Davy gritted his teeth as Avery ground his dick in deeper and deeper.
There was no mistaking this for a non-intact ass, Avery thought. He had never encountered a man that required so much patience. Every few seconds, Avery stopped to let Davy adjust. His ass would loosen just enough for another half-inch or so to go in, then Avery would feel yet more resistance.
But despite the awkwardness, Davy was already the best piece of ass Avery had ever plowed. Part of that was, of course, because Avery rarely ever plowed anyone. But the main reason was that Davy’s ass was both huge and tight, a double whammy.
Eventually he loosened up enough that Avery could get the entire length of his shaft in there. Davy bit his lip and grunted, his face still a bright red and fixed strictly on the sight of Brenda and Lisa’s coupling nearby.
Pounding his dick in and out, Avery felt an incredible surge of pleasure, like nothing he had ever experienced. His balls slapped against Davy’s big meaty body as he thrusted. Avery moaned so loud he blushed almost as deeply as Davy did, and the girls giggled. Davy shook his head and hid his face.
The difference in size between Avery and Davy made things rather awkward. The male body simply wasn’t built for a small, trim and delicate-bodied man to top a big, bulky brute like Davy. Avery had to stand on his toes and still had trouble getting up Davy’s ass.
But somehow the awkwardness of it made the whole experience better for Avery. He had to grasp and claw at Davy’s plump, juicy boss in order to keep his bearings. He moaned, his voice drowned out by Davy’s more pained grunting.
Despite Davy’s apparent discomfort he was also clearly aroused. His dick leaked precum into Avery’s fingers. When Avery finally found that Davy’s ass was open and loose enough for serious plowing, Davy’s dick spasmed and his grunting turned to aroused groans of surprised desire.
Avery smiled. He had found Davy’s prostate, and Davy didn’t seem to even notice the girls anymore. He bucked and flexed beneath Avery’s body, more and more enthusiastic with each slam of Avery’s dick inside him.
“Oh fuck yeah-” Davy moaned, then cut his own voice off. He moved along with Avery’s thrusts now, contorting as he accepted every inch of cockmeat deep in his tight ass.
While Davy’s passion was appreciated, it was also difficult for Avery — it was hard enough to remain on top of Davy’s massive frame when Davy lay still. Now Avery had to mount him like he was riding a horse, and he used his toes to support himself on the edge of the mattress, which Davy remained bent over top of.
Davy’s ass was so sexy that Avery had trouble focusing on giving a reacharound, which was also difficult given their position, with Avery straddling Davy’s ass, and Davy’s strapping body, which Avery had to strain to reach around. Avery could do little more than strain his arms around Davy’s waist to barely reach his crotch.
But then before Avery could adjust himself to get back to the reacharound, Davy crawled forward on the bed. He lifted his blushing head up, so that his ass jutted out, giving Avery perfect access to it. He was so big he took up more than half of the bed’s surface area, which was fine with him since it meant he could watch Brenda and Lisa Anne so closely he could smell their pussyjuice.
Not only that, Davy started jacking himself off. Even as he winced with Avery’s dick slamming in and out, Davy flexed his chest and stroked his own dick. It almost looked like an instinctual reaction, like he was only dimly aware he was doing it.
The girls were approaching orgasm, having long since stopped paying attention to Davy’s masculine heaving and grunts. They writhed in each other’s arms, while Avery gripped Davy’s thick-skulled head.
“Oh, damn, yeah…”
Avery wished he could have gone for longer, but he knew Davy would back out once the girls were done. So Avery didn’t fight back as his own orgasm washed over him in waves.
He collapsed to Davy’s back, planting his face between those massive undulating shoulderblades, which were hot to the touch and slippery with clean, salty sweat. The most intense orgasm of his life wracked Avery’s body, so powerful it hurt. He grunted in pain just like Davy did.
Moments later, Davy shot his own load into his hands and onto the bed. The smell of semen filled the air, which Avery was glad for because it replaced the scent of womanhood. Davy’s ass tightened all over, sending pulses of post-orgasmic pleasure up Avery’s spine.
Cum flowed deeply into Davy. Avery wasn’t sure he had ever shot so much. It felt like gallons of cum entering Avery and filling Davy up. Avery rubbed his face and ground his tongue into Davy’s back muscles, as they both orgasmed together.
Avery fell totally limp, savoring the feel of Davy’s football-toned back muscles beneath his tiny twink body. He had never felt so small in his life, and he loved it. He sucked on Davy’s meaty back until he was sure he had given him a few hickeys.
“Okay, okay, you’re done,” Davy said, his voice pinched and breathless; the agony was coming back to him now that it wasn’t overshadowed by bliss. “Get off me.”
Avery giggled and pulled away. Davy breathed a loud sigh of relief now that his ass was empty, and he winced as he grabbed a tissue to wipe his hand off.
Exhausted, Avery lay down on the bed next to the girls. They were done too, cuddling in each other’s arms. Davy stood over him, watching the girls.
When Avery reached up to massage Davy’s belly — which was almost, but not quite flat, exactly the way Avery liked it — Davy winced like he was ticklish. He smiled and crawled into the cramped bed. He climbed over Avery to lay between him and the girls, who giggled as he kissed Brenda on the cheek.
Avery, in turned, kissed Davy on the cheek as well, and slowly massaged his shoulders and chest. His pecs twitched beneath Avery’s fingers. Avery’s dick pressed against Davy’s thigh. Davy ignored him and did the same to both girls. They lay there for what felt like forever, until the girls were both asleep.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Avery asked.
Davy blushed. “I’ll deny it if anyone asks,” he said. “But that was incredible. If you ever get some more girls to play Truth Or Dare, gimme a call. I’ll pick dare every time.”
“Dare always, huh?”
“Dare always.”

The Volleyball Player

Rob isn’t interested in volleyball, until he overhears that one hunky player is in need of a few dollars. That’s something Rob can provide, in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!

Can Rob satisfy this volleyball jock’s carnal desires?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob happily munched on a taco, sitting on a bench near the beach. He watched the sorority girls splash each other. The sun shone brightly, and it lay a blanket of heat upon the beach. He hoped it wouldn’t dissuade the men from coming out, and indeed, the women soon proved an irresistible siren. This splendorous slice of California beach always attracted more women than men. That’s because there were three university campuses nearby, and all three were mostly women.
By eleven o’clock, sun-tanned young men were gathering in dribs and drags, and they made eyes at the girls, who made eyes back at them, and then mostly nothing happened, but it was cute to watch. Rob was a little old for this stuff. They probably saw him as “the old guy over there”. Luckily, there were a few older guys — like really old — so Rob didn’t come across that old.
One of them shot Rob a look like he was a creep. He was a bit young and slim for Rob’s taste, with a face like an overgrown infant, but Rob might have made an offer to him anyway. But Rob soon became entranced by a developing drama. That babyfaced fratboy seemed to have a crush on one girl who wanted nothing to do with him, while a different, somewhat thicker girl was all over him.
There was also a handsome dark-skinned man with long messy hair. Was he Brazilian? Rob overheard an accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. The man had a perfect six-pack, which Rob adored. He was a great admirer of the male form.
But the Brazilian man — if that was indeed what he was — did not look like a good prospect. He flashed a wad of cash when talking to a girl. A handsome man with cash and a girl already swooning over him was not likely to be willing to let Rob swing on his meat for a few dollars. That’s what he was hoping to find today on San Guapo Beach.
Rob was patient. He didn’t mind waiting. He loved beaches. He would gladly spend all day, or even multiple days, hanging out and waiting for a desperate man who might let him take a swing on their meat.
As the day wore on, San Guapo filled with college kids on spring break, including plenty of hefty, tanned and muscled young men who needed beer money and a ride home. Girls were too drunk to fuck most of the time, so the boys were frustrated and horny. It was prime hunting grounds for Rob.
He decided to go back to his hotel a little before noon. This part of the beach was filling up with family-types — women in one-piece bathing suits, carrying babies, and balding gray-haired men with paunchy bellies — so Rob left. Once the evening came he figured he’d be able to go back out, the beach would be crawling with young studs once again.
For now though, he was at a loss for what to do.
There was a crowd of people near the hotel’s part of the beach. Rob was interested and went closer — he didn’t normally hang out at the hotel’s bit of beach because his experience suggested those were the most scrubbed-clean, unexciting and banal beaches of all. It was impossible to do anything fun with corporate security goons on the lookout everywhere.
The Top Inn Hotel staff was here, Rob could see them scattered about, looking terrified of the crowd they had created. But the onlookers weren’t focused on anything but the match:
Volleyball.
It was a volleyball game. It was important enough for ESPN2 to be there filming. Now that Rob saw that, he recalled having seen a sign in the hotel to that effect. Was this a pro volleyball match? Was pro volleyball even a thing? He had no idea. Maybe Olympics qualifying or something.
Rob pushed into the crowd to watch. There were two teams of six playing. One was clearly the “away-team” — they were either Australian or New Zealander, judging from the flags on their shorts. The other were presumably locals, or at least American.
With some graceful shoving and sliding through the crowd, Rob got to the front, close enough that he could see the action and hear the grunts of the players when they struck the ball.
But he got to the front of the crowd only moments before the match was over. He had little interest in volleyball itself, so he didn’t much care about missing the game.
What he was sorry he missed was the guys — especially one guy in particular.
He was on the US team. He was tall and broad-shouldered, built like a jolly truck, with a hefty frame and a perfect six-pack. He was long-legged and long-armed, and he wore only short black shorts that extended just a few inches onto his thighs. Rob could tell his shorts were so short he had shaved the top of his pubic hair or it would have poked out above the elastic.
That volleyball player had a physique that Rob ached to admire. He wanted to taste his sweat-dappled shoulders so bad it hurt. He needed him. He wanted to suck the scruff off him. The blonde volleyballer ran his fingers through his confused blond mop of hair and said something frustrated, his words lost in the thrum and clamor of the dissipating crowd — his team had lost, and it seemed he and his teammates were upset with each other. They good-naturedly smiled for the ESPN2 cameras and shook their opponents’s hands, but they didn’t like it. Rob could sense it in them.
Rob milled about. He wanted that volleyball player. The man was obviously handsome enough to get a girl if he wanted it, but he seemed depressed. The women flocked to the winning team from down under — not only had they won, they had adorable accents. And Rob had to admit, they also had physiques he could get down with.
But they were not for Rob, he had eyes only for his beloved blond buck. He just needed to find a way to get him. Rob bought a bottle of water and drank it as though it was an important activity he couldn’t leave and do, so nobody noticed he was milling around for no reason. He waited for the herd to thin, and the cameras went into a van parked at the hotel. The excitement, such as it was, disappeared.
The argument between the blond and his teammates erupted out in the parking lot. Rob had casually walked out that way when they did. He didn’t catch the beginning of the argument, but he saw it end.
“I told you that wouldn’t work! Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Now we’re out ten grand-“
“Oh please, he was twenty minutes late, we nearly forfeited-“
“Maybe you ought to show up to practice once in a while!”
“Hey fuck you, none of this was my fault!”
“I’m the team captain, and I said we should-“
“Then it’s your fault!”
As they argued, they climbed into a jeep. At first Rob thought they were all going to squeeze into one soft-top jeep (with the soft-top removed, so there was plenty of room, more or less). It looked that way. But then just four of them slipped into that jeep, leaving two behind to continue arguing as though they didn’t notice the foursome in the keep was leaving without them.
“I told you that I had the better strategy-“
“But you never showed up to practice to tell us about it!”
“Oh come on, I skipped like two practices!”
“Yeah, but they were last week. You were out of practice today. You cost us that match, Hark!”
“Don’t you make accusations, you little pisshole, you served the ball like a goddamn cripple that one time-!”
“I made one error the whole game!” That blond — Hark was his name, it seemed — threw his hands in the air. He was the handsome blond with a bashful tangle of hair and a perfect body. Rob was entranced by the beads of sweat clinging to the pit in the small of his back — there were presumably fine little hairs there collecting the sweat — Rob knew most men had that, but he couldn’t see them because Hark was blond and his skin there was light — and he wanted to suck up every salty droplet. Hark’s shorts had slipped a bit as he walked to the parking lot, so the top of his asscrack was visible. He had big plump cheeks that Rob wanted to put his face between and blow. His asscheeks were pale as porcelain, but his shoulders and his face were browned by the sun.
“Well it cost us ten grand!” the other guy said. He threw his hands in the air. “I’m walking back!” he snapped, as though he had any other choice. The jeep had gone.
Hark stood there watching him go. He put his hands on his hips and ran his fingers through his hair. He scowled, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He forced an awkward smile on his face. Then he turned around and nearly ran into a complete stranger: Rob.
“Ah! Hey. Hi,” Hark said with a grunt. He was normally charming and outgoing, but it was hard to restart himself after that fight with his friends. It took him a moment to switch gears. He had a naturally jolly face when it wasn’t tense with frustration.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m cool,” Hark said. He shrugged. “I just… Things didn’t turn out how they were supposed to.” He added, “Obviously”, because he assumed Rob was a fan and was as disappointed as he was that his team lost.
“You poor baby… you wanna tell me about it?”
Hark looked at him suspiciously. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Rob Winthrop,” he said. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’ve got some weed. I’m not very good at rolling joints, but if you can roll one up for me-“
“Okay,” he said flatly. Then he blushed. “I mean… yeah, cool. I can roll joints. And I haven’t smoked in awhile cuz I was preparing for this match. Some good that did me.”
“I saw your match. You were really good,” Rob said. He didn’t mention that he watched about thirty seconds of it. “What was that fight all about?”
Rob of course didn’t really care. He was just making conversation. Hark explained to him all about the team’s conflicts as they walked back to the hotel, and Rob listened the best he could manage given the dullness of the subject. He had literally nothing to offer to a conversation on volleyball strategy and training regiments. Once Hark — Keith Harkness was his name, Hark to his friends — once Hark got into talking about it, his natural charm took over, and he forgot that this was a kind of weird experience — running into a random man and going back to his hotel room to smoke weed.
The smoking weed part was pretty normal for Hark. The rest of it was odd.
This wasn’t the first time Hark had met some fans he didn’t know and gone somewhere with them. It was weird that Rob was just one person and that he brought Hark back to his hotel room. Hark thought that was odd. But not bad, after all, and he really did want to smoke a joint. That would relax him after that disappointing match and the fight with his teammates. Later, after it was all over, he was stoned enough to get paranoid and wonder what would have happened if Rob was an axe murderer. But that did not occur to him until long after it didn’t happen.
“Man, volleyball used to be fun,” Hark said as they got to the room and Rob unlocked the door. Hark sighed. “I started playing volleyball when baseball got too serious in high school. People would get in fights about it and shit, Coach Shithead yelling at me. I just wanted to lay back and toss the ball around with my buddies, broh.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. He shut the door once Hark was inside.
“But now volleyball is all about making it to practice every day no matter what, and my girlfriend dumped me because I went to this match instead of her niece’s christening… it was complicated, but she’s got like, eight sisters, y’know, I can’t go to all their stupid shit. That’s like… all the time, y’know? They have so many kids — christenings like every week! I don’t have time for that! I went to her cousin’s friend’s baby shower! I didn’t get any credit for it because she got in a fight with her friend.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said, rolling his eyes. “The weed’s in this box.”
“Hell yeah.” Hark’s emotions dwindled once he saw the weed and had a task to complete. He didn’t even just roll one joint. He was stuck on auto-pilot, so once he started, he rolled the entire eighth of an ounce into small joints. He was an expert joint-roller, despite his big sausage-like fingers.
Rob could actually roll great joints. He had only asked Hark to do it to get him in the hotel room. In fact, two joints Rob had rolled last night were sitting in the box. Hark didn’t notice them or realize it suggested Rob was lying about being unable to roll joints.
As Hark worked on the joints, Rob cleared his throat. “So… were you counting on the money from that match?”
Hark nodded. “I kinda need it. I bought this jet-ski last month, and uh… the salesman misled me about the monthly bill.” He blushed. “I mean… It was complicated. There’s fees and like… percents.”
“Oh, you poor baby,” Rob said. He patted Hark on the bare meat of his shoulder. It was firm and warm from the sunlight and moist from his sweat. “I could help.”
“What?”
“If you ram me in the ass and you make me feel good like I know you can,” Rob said, “I’ll give you two grand. I know that’s not as much as you were gonna make-“
“That’s more than I was gonna get it from it. We had six guys and ten grand, I was getting less than two grand out of it,” Hark blurted out. He bit his lip and shifted his weight uncomfortably, like he wished he hadn’t said that so eagerly. “Plus there’s taxes, I mean… you’ll be giving me cash, right?”
“Right. No taxes at all. So this is a lot more than you’d be getting if you had won.”
Hark laughed again, a nervous quaver in his voice. “That’s weird, broh.”
“I know,” Rob said. “I’ll jerk you off so good. I bet I do it better than any woman you’ve been with. I have a nice tight ass too.”
“Really?” Hark laughed. “I mean…” He blushed. “I guess… Yeah… That’s cool.”
Rob didn’t want to dawdle. He immediately pulled Hark’s shorts down — Hark had to lift his ass to give Rob easy access to his crotch — and bared his dick. He didn’t wear any underwear under those shorts. Rob had guessed as much seeing his cock and balls flop around when he had jumped and run across the volleyball court.
But it was nice to see it in person. He had a big meaty dick just like his body, all thick and girthy and strong, pale like his skin. His pubic hair was deep black though.
Hark sucked in his breath and held it in. His cheeks blushed a deep ruddy tone that made Rob laugh quietly. Hark held an unlit joint in his hand as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, shorts down, looking like he expected to get smacked in the balls any moment now. He was ready to wince.
“Relax, Hark…” Rob said. He made his voice as feminine as possible to put Hark at ease. Then he lowered his head and kissed the tip of his dick.
It tasted like the beach, like flesh after sitting in the sun for hours. It radiated warmth, and the flavor of salty sand hit Rob’s tongue, as did the years of muscle-memory and strategy from Hark’s volleyball career. His hands roamed up Hark’s broad chest, while his mouth opened to swallow the tip of his manhood.
“Ah, oh…” Hark grunted like he had thought this would be painful and was surprised it wasn’t. He opened his eyes just in time to see Rob deep-throat him to the root.
A gasp escaped from Hark’s lips. He lifted his ass up off the bedspread, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. He was exhilarated suddenly, his anxiety vanishing in the face of the intense pleasure that rocketed through him.
He had been hornier than he thought. He was so upset about the match and nervous about being on TV, angry at his teammates and anxious at the situation with Rob that he hadn’t really given much thought to how this would feel. He had thought it was something he would just get over because he needed the money. It would be like mopping a floor — not pleasant by any means, but not the worst way to make a few dollars, and once you got started, you could just put on some Jimmy Buffett and think about something else.
That was what he did now. He put Jimmy Buffett on his cell phone, the tinny speakers filling the air and overpowering the sound of the dome. Hark had trouble concentrating after a few seconds because it felt so good. His hands shook with his cell phone hovering above his body before he could gain enough focus to get the music started.
The lit joint fell loose on the bed, both Hark and Rob having forgotten about it.
His dick rocketed to full erection in Rob’s mouth as Rob slammed his own head down deeply. His nose nuzzled the silky pubic hair of Hark’s crotch, while his hands reached up to tweak both nipples at once. Hark had big hefty pecs — Rob had been mesmerized watching them bounce when he jumped during the game, and now they bounced because they flexed under his fingertips.
“Goddamn!” Hark threw his head back and breathed through his gritted teeth. He laughed. “I never had dome like this.” He peered down at Rob, who greedily, moistly suckled on his dick as though trying to remove it. He slurped on it so hard it almost hurt, and Hark laughed harder to cover up his nervousness.
The sour and salty taste of precum hit Rob’s tongue. He guzzled it all down, making eye contact with Hark’s surprised face. The moist sounds of Rob gurgling on precum were loud enough to overpower the sound of Jimmy Buffett singing about the last mango in Paris.
“Are you ready to stick it in me? I wanna feel you inside me,” Rob said. He grinned and stood. Precum flowed freely down the shaft of Hark’s dick even though Rob wasn’t touching it now.
Hark clapped his hands, eyes giddy and heart beating. He’d never actually had anal sex — his dick was too big for any of his girlfriends to do that. He’d always wanted to try it though.
Rob rubbed lube into his own ass and bent over. He was going to sit on Hark’s lap, but Hark stood — he thought it seemed more manly to bend Rob over the bed so Hark could be on top.
“Ah, man…” Hark laughed again, as he always did when he was nervous. His cock throbbed. Precum dripped down his shaft. He ran his fingers through his tangled blond mop again, then watched Rob spread his cheeks. His tight dark hole winked, beckoning. Hark gulped. Was he really going to do this? Would he tell people about it? If not, he’d have to pretend he was still in need of money to pay for the jet ski.
Hark took a deep breath and slipped his dick in, just the tip at first. He felt resistance and stopped. He bit his lip. A bit more slid into Rob’s ass, which was well-lubed enough it felt like a trap, like quicksand and once Hark’s dick touched it, it was slowly sucked in more and more.
It was awkward, weird, his asscheeks strangely cold. It didn’t feel good at all at first — it wasn’t painful, it just didn’t feel like anything. Hark wondered if he was going to have to stop this.
And then a wave of pleasure hit him. He had been so nervous it didn’t happen right away. Once it did, however, it felt better than he thought possible. It was way better than being with a woman, he realized, because there was less pressure — he was so sure that Rob wanted him badly that it didn’t matter if Hark didn’t do it that good, or did it for too long or too short a time, or if his dick was too big, small, skinny or thick. He could just go with all his might without worrying about any of that.
He gripped Rob’s asscheeks and forced his dick in until his balls slapped against Rob’s flesh. A surge of sensations hit Hark, whose smile turned to an intense grimace. He let out a long low howl that was audible outside the hotel room.
Rob used one hand to jack himself off, while his other tightened into a claw that dug into the bedspread beneath himself. He panted, the potent feelings that coursed through his veins growing with each thrust of Hark’s dick into him.
“Oh god, shit, yeah, broh,” Hark cried out. He realized he was being loud — he had a deep voice so it carried well, it was difficult for him to say anything very quietly — but he couldn’t help it. It felt so good it was like losing his virginity all over again.
He sprayed a massive wad into Rob’s ass, great creamy wads of it coating Rob’s insides and seeping into him. Hark’s heavy balls crawled up in his sac, and still more sticky cum flowed into Rob.
Rob shot his own wad too, into his palm and on the mattress beneath him. But he stayed there, letting his ass get it hard over and over. Hark didn’t stop even when he was done. He kept moved his dick around as it limpened, turning all the creamy cum in Rob’s ass into a big wad of foamy juices that soaked onto the sheets.
“Damn…” Rob howled as loud as he could — which wasn’t very loud. When Hark’s dick finally plopped out, Rob sighed and shuddered. His exquisitely sensitive ass was so potent it hurt and he couldn’t breathe; it was all he could do to experience the climax rocketing around inside him.
Then, Rob collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. He looked up at Hark’s ruddy body. “You wanna lay with me for awhile? The cash is in my pants pocket.”
Hark didn’t respond for a long time. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to decide what to do — should he leave or stay to cuddle? Should he do it again? If so, should he demand more money? He found the cash in Rob’s pocket, but still wasn’t sure.
Then he saw that tender ass, plump and bare and ready for him to go again. “Aw, hell,” Hark said. He climbed into bed and lay next to him. “I guess I could give you your money’s worth.” He placed his arms behind his head, accentuating his chest muscles and baring his armpits. He looked surprised to see Rob smile and suck on his nipples. Rob licked his chest and his neck. Hark sighed. “Thanks, man.” He found the joint he had dropped earlier, which singed the pillow, and he puffed on it.
“No, thank you,” Rob said. For now, he thought, he was right where he wanted to be. He had found the kind of man he was hoping to find when he came to California.

The Alpha in a Wrestling Singlet

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

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

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

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