experiencing discomfort – Mansploitation

The Alpha in a Wifebeater

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

Luckily Avery knows exactly how to handle this much meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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

The 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?

Read it now as an ebook!

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 Yakuza Bottoms

When Avery is accosted by a yakuza enforcer for the second time, he thought he was gonna hafta pay protection fees or something similar… But it turns out this yakuza alpha male needs to bend over and take whatever Avery wants to give out! Can Avery help Wuzu recover his reputation?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Avery felt like celebrating, so he poured himself a glass of wine. He didn’t often drink, mainly because of the calories. And he found that, the older he got, the more alcohol made him sleepy instead of drunk. The taste of wine was splendid though. When he was young, he would rather drink more worse. When he was older, he would rather drink less better.
But he had no sooner taken a sip, when there was a knock at the door.
Scowling, Avery put down his glass of wine. He rolled his eyes. Probably his neighbor. Like an idiot, he opened it without checking who was there.
His blood ran cold when he saw a familiar face.
His name was Wuzu, and he was an enforcer for Clan Rairakku, a Maui-based yakuza syndicate that played a major role in business here in San Francisco. It had been Wuzu who came to Avery a year ago and threatened him if he didn’t back out of a business deal. Avery did back out — he had no need to fight for business opportunities, and he had been unsure on the viability of that particular deal anyway. Avery was considering a location for a massage parlor, and he had chosen a different one. No big deal.
But now the same stone-facing Japanese man was here again, looking down at Avery. Wuzu’s eyes flashed and sparkled, though he showed no emotion on his face. His only emotion was “stern”, it seemed.
But this time, there was a faint note of something else on Wuzu’s face, some excitement, apprehension maybe even eagerness. His eyes scanned up and down, taking in Avery’s petite frame.
“Oh, hello, Wuzu. I did what you asked.”
“Indeed.”
“Hmmm…” Avery found Wuzu’s stare unbearable. He looked down at his feet. “So, uh… It’s all good, right?”
“Yes.” Wuzu’s voice was clear as a lighthouse. “Good evening, Mister Flowers. May I enter?” His Japanese accent was thick: goo-ood eve-en-nin Missuhtaa Flao-za with the rhythm of an elegant machine gun. Despite that, he wasn’t hard to understand.
Last time, Wuzu had barged right in. This time, he spoke with politeness and a calm breath. Avery could tell this was not a threatening visit.
“Uh… I guess so,” Avery said, more out of confusion than anything else. Last time, Wuzu hadn’t phrased it as an option. He immediately regretted it — why invite an extortionist into his home?
But Wuzu was more intimidating than Avery could handle.
He was tall, especially for a Japanese man, towering over Avery by nearly a foot. He was broad-shouldered and burly, with a square jaw and dark, menacing eyes that flitted this way and that as he entered. His eyes were always in motion, even when his head and the rest of him stayed still, and he walked with the light step and grace of a man a third his size.
“Is anyone else here?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response before walking throughout the apartment to check. He stopped and stared at a bonsai tree that Avery placed on a shelf in front of a window. He scoffed as though he didn’t approve. Avery blushed.
“No, no one’s here,” Avery said.
A long pause split open between them. Avery was behind Wuzu, taking in the thickness of his corded-muscle legs and ass, which strained the fine fabric of his suit. He dressed like a banker, even if he was built like a baseball player. He wore some odd cologne too, which smelled — not exactly bad, but not good either — it smelled like a hot spring in the woods. Moist and freshly fern-like, yet musty and sulfurous. Flashes of his colorful tattoos were visible on the edges of his wrist, ankles and neck, but only when his movements separated the fabric of his suit from its natural resting position.
“That’s my bonsai tree, it-“
“It is lacking in balance,” Wuzu said. He plucked one leaf off a branch, and he delicately, deliberately placed the leaf in the trash can beside the door.
“Oh. Well. Um,” Avery was too nervous to think of any response. “Okay. Sorry. I’m, uh… It was a Christmas present.”
Again a pause erupted in Avery’s apartment, and it was shattered by Wuzu’s smooth baritone. “I am here because of shame,” Wuzu said, his voice deep and resonant.
“I see,” Avery said, though that wasn’t true at all. This time, the silence spread like a kudzu through the room, and it strangled every thought Avery had. Wuzu’s stare was intense. He didn’t get why Wuzu could come here because of shame. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with Avery.
Wuzu’s simmering gaze was hard to ignore. A part of Avery’s mind brainstormed ways to get him to leave — order him out, call the police, forgive him for his shame, simply show him the door, offer him money to leave — there were so many options. But in the end, all Avery could think to do was to pat the soil of his bonsai tree to see if it needed water. It did not. Avery already knew that. He watered it like an hour ago. It was just nice to have something to occupy his hands for a few seconds, while Wuzu stood and loomed and cogitated like a block of morose tofu.
Is he breathing? Avery furrowed his brow. Wuzu’s chest moved only very slightly and very slowly, like he was trying not to show that he was breathing.
Finally, Wuzu spoke. “You must discuss with my boss. His name is Mr. Gakimosimi. You must be respectful. Do not interrupt him,” Wuzu said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke a few Japanese words, then passed the phone to Avery.
“Uh, hello?”
A deep British-accented voice came from the receiver. It was a thin, reedy voice, like an old man. “Mr. Flowers, I presume?” A trace of a Japanese accent was detectible.
“Yes, uh, sir.”
“My name is Timo Gakimosimi,” he said. “This man in front of you — I do not speak his name right now, because he has brought intense shame upon my organization. He has failed in a way I will not describe to you, but be assured it is humiliating for him. He must show me the depth of his sorrow and regret. Do you understand?”
“Uh, sort of. I mean, I get-“
“Stop speaking,” he said. “Do not babble. Americans always babble.”
“Sorry…” Avery was finding this whole situation incomprehensible. At most times, Avery would be defensive of some foreigner talking shit about Americans. But Avery had an inexplicable eagerness to obey the man on the phone — Mr. Gakimosimi — and so he shut his mouth to avoid babbling.
“The man in front of you will do anything you say. If he refuses, you may call me at this number and tell me. He will be punished further. Is that agreeable?”
Avery hesitated. “I mean… I don’t have… a job for him. I don’t need a, uh… extortionist.”
“He is a business consultant, but that is not what I expect you to order him to do,” he said. “I will not say it, as it is improper, but you will think of something he can do to please you.”
“Will I?” Avery furrowed his brow. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
But when he looked at Wuzu, Avery realized exactly what was intended: he was supposed to have his way with Wuzu. Make him jerk Avery off, swallow his cum, take it up the ass. That’s what Wuzu was expecting, what Mr. Gakimosimi was expecting. They were looking for a sissy, and somebody — maybe Wuzu himself — suggested Avery. Wuzu’s hangdog expression sent a shiver of anticipation up Avery’s backside.
“Yes. I think you know what I mean,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “If he pleases you to a satisfactory degree, I will clear his name of shame. Thank you, Mr. Flowers.” Then he hung up.
Avery nervously handed the phone back to Wuzu. “So, uh… I guess you know what he said?”
Wuzu nodded.
“I’m not going to force you into anything. I’ll just tell your boss you did fine, that you did everything I said. How much time should I give? Maybe you could just fix my bonsai tree? You could give it balance.”
“I have done that,” Wuzu said with a polite nod that was almost a bow. “I have requested this.” He sunk to his knees in front of Avery. “My shame wounds me. I can only heal it by proving my devotion.” He took off his suit jacket, which he hung over the arm of the chair next to him. Then he picked it up, and he smoothed the suit jacket, so it would hang flat when he returned it to the arm of the chair
“I don’t want to force you-“
“You are not forcing me. This will not be my first time. Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi that,” Wuzu said. He unbuttoned his shirt, then carefully folded it — it was a perfect fold, like he could work at The Gap. Underneath that, he wore a plain white t-shirt, his tattooed muscles bulging out from underneath. Green and black koi swum on his bicep just past the sleeve of his shirt.
“Wait…” Avery said as Wuzu was about to take the shirt off. “Lemme get that.” He shivered with anticipation, struck by a flood of desire, as he touched Wuzu’s flat belly and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He had an amazing physique — Avery hadn’t realized it under the suit, but he was built like a professional wrestler, with pecs the size of Avery’s head. Multicolored tattoos danced over his chest and ribs: smiling geishas, a stylized sun whose rays bathed a living Japan over his heart, and geometric designs covering his six-pack belly with color. His back was an ornate piece, a Shinto temple that coverd him from his nape to his waist.
Avery kissed those biceps, one after the other, blushing in embarrassment at Wuzu’s bemused reaction. Wuzu seemed unfamiliar with the concept of being interested in muscles. Did no Japanese women value muscles? Avery sure did. He sucked a hickey onto each bicep, savoring the rock-hard feel and the overwhelming warmth.
Then he dived his head into Wuzu’s armpit. Like most pit-worshipers, Avery had always enjoyed the musty flavor of hairy, burly armpits, but Wuzu was the opposite of that. He had short, thin hair that was soft and silky, and that smelled of soap, not cheap body wash either, but expensive, high-quality soap that smelled of lavender and mint.
“You like arm pits?” Wuzu said, his stony yakuza face suddenly leering like a nervous frat boy covering up his anxiety with disgust. “That is fil-thy.”
Avery nodded. “That’s the part I love about it,” he said with a giggle, which turned almost hysterical when Wuzu’s serious face stared him down. Then Avery sucked on each nipple. Avery had never felt pectoral muscles like this, so completely lacking in flab — he didn’t think it even existed outside of bodybuilders, action stars and pro athletes. But here there was, right in front of him, a pair of pecs made of iron and covered in multicolored tattoos. Avery licked a trail around those tattoos as his hands stroked Wuzu’s broad, smooth back.
He dropped his pants when Avery excitedly took his own clothes off. He assumed he’d be jerking Wuzu off, which was plenty exciting for Avery. Much to his surprise, however, Wuzu sunk to his knees when Avery dropped his underwear. Wuzu took a deep breath, then swallowed Avery’s half-hard cock to the root.
“Oh shit, Wuzu… I, uh… I didn’t think you’d want to do this,” Avery said. Wuzu let out a loud gagging sound but didn’t stop, even as Avery’s dick pushed into the back of his throat. He did not spit any of it out. His nose collided with Avery’s crotch, and he held onto Avery’s thin hips for support.
Wuzu’s tongue wavered — it touched Avery’s cockshaft and pulled away, hiding in the corner of Wuzu’s cheek as though fearful of the taste. Wuzu scrunched up his face. But then he recommitted himself to going through with this, and his tongue slathered saliva up and down Avery’s shaft.
“Wuzu… You don’t have to do this,” Avery said, still feeling a bit bad. He definitely didn’t want to take advantage of Wuzu — aside from the moral considerations, it was clear that Wuzu was a violent extortionist who sought revenge when he felt he needed to. Avery didn’t want any yakuza getting mad at him. For all Avery knew, Wuzu would seek to eliminate anyone who knew his shame — Mr. Gakimosimi had said that, when this was done, Wuzu’s shame would be wiped away, so maybe he would get rid of anyone who knew about it. Maybe once it had happened, he would be free to be violent again.
“No,” Wuzu said softly, pulling away and closing his eyes like he couldn’t bare to see Avery’s cock with his spit stuck to it. Wuzu growled. “This is the only way to recover my honor and the honor of Clan Rairakku,” he said. He took a deep breath and resumed his deep-throating, his throat choking as Avery’s dick squeezed into it.
His nose pressed into Avery’s wiry pubic hair. Avery was so shocked his knees went weak, but he managed to compose himself. He gripped Wuzu’s neatly-coiffed hair, which was slick with product and thoroughly brushed. He held on as tightly as he could, leaning on Wuzu for support as his legs had trouble supporting himself.
His dick perked right up in Wuzu’s mouth, turning as hard as Wuzu’s biceps. Avery’s hips instinctively gyrated, and he humped Wuzu’s mouth. That sent waves of pleasure to rock Avery’s body from head to toe.
Since there was such a big difference in size between Wuzu and Avery — Wuzu being nearly a foot taller — the positioning of the two was awkward. Wuzu had to stoop, leaning forward on his knees just to get his face at Avery’s crotch-height. His muscles writhed and flexed as he struggled to stay in position, and his unwillingness gradually melted away. Avery got the impression that he stopped feeling ashamed of himself and started feeling pride at his success in rehabilitating his name and his honor, even if only in his mind.
Then Wuzu pulled away and turned around. Thin tendrils of spit still connected Avery’s dick to Wuzu’s lips, until him turning his head forced them to separate. Avery nearly fell over because he had been supporting himself on Wuzu’s head. Even now that Wuzu had stopped, Avery was filled with intense pangs of pleasure.
“Wow, you really want to do this?” Avery’s voice was thin, reedy, like if he actually asked this out loud Wuzu might realize what he was doing and run away, but Avery couldn’t help but ask anyway. His heart pounded. This was more nerve-wracking than it had been when Wuzu came by to extort him last year.
But Wuzu merely grunted his assent. He did appear embarrassed, his face ruddy and sweaty, lips trembling, but he didn’t hesitate at all. He turned around and sunk to the ground in front of Avery.
He started off on all fours, his round smooth ass elevated for Avery to get into. But Avery was much too short for that to work, so once again they struggled to get in position. Avery had trouble getting his dick there, and Wuzu had to lower himself as far as he could go, until he was practically laying down.
By time Avery managed to mount him, Wuzu had lowered himself all the way, and he now rested on his belly on the floor, limbs sprawled out. Avery had to spread himself atop Wuzu, aiming his ass for the taut crack of Wuzu’s tight ass. Laying his face on Wuzu’s broad back, Avery licked the muscles there as he worked his dick in.
He gasped as soon as his manhood slipped past Wuzu’s tight sphincter. It sent up sparks of bliss, which made Avery throw his head back. From the first moment, Avery could feel his orgasm crawling up in his sac, and Avery was annoyed with himself that this wasn’t going to last very long. He could already tell.
Wuzu’s back muscles were like a barrel of thick rope, and Avery nuzzled and licked every inch as he began humping. He felt tiny behind Wuzu, his entire body fitting easily on Wuzu’s back. Avery’s head barely even extended all the way to Wuzu’s meaty shoulders.
Some Japanese words slipped from Wuzu’s mouth. His tone was soft and resigned, maybe a little relieved that he was getting this over with and the pain wasn’t so bad. It might have been a prayer, Avery thought, and he wanted to ask for a translation, but his arousal was too intense to form words, and in any case, he didn’t think Wuzu would tell him what he meant.
Wuzu grunted, then fell stoic again. Avery began working his dick in and out, glad to feel that Wuzu was not resisting him — he got the impression Wuzu didn’t mind this at all, despite his words and the pain he was obviously feeling. Wuzu gyrated his hips as though he was aroused.
“Do you want a reacharound?” Avery asked as soon as the idea occurred to him. That would make this easier for Wuzu as well, he thought — every man loves a free handjob. Wuzu nodded. Avery reached around Wuzu’s body to grab ahold of his dick. He began stroking it — Wuzu was already rock-hard, so in seconds, he was spewing precum into Avery’s fingers. He was obviously turned on by this, Avery realized, despite the pain and humiliation.
Then Avery realized that Wuzu’s dick spasmed every time Avery penetrated him from a certain angle. That could only mean one thing: Avery had found Wuzu’s prostate, and Wuzu loved it. Avery began ramming his dick in as hard as he could at that prostate, smiling as Wuzu’s entire body jerked with the lust that pounded through his veins. Wuzu moaned and lifted his head up.
A cell phone rang. They both stopped moving as though caught, Avery’s cock pulsating within Wuzu, Wuzu’s cock pulsating in Avery’s hand. It was Wuzu’s phone. Avery’s blood ran cold and his heart skipped a beat as his mind raced with terrible possibilities — what if Mr. Gakimosimi decided to order Wuzu to kill Avery, perhaps to save his clan’s face? Avery was terrified of what might come next.
Wuzu winced when he verified that it was his boss. “Mr. Gakimosimi,” he said, even bowing the best he could laying on his belly. He winced and said something in Japanese, then handed the phone back to Avery.
“Are you bringing shame upon him?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked the moment Avery put the receiver to his ear.
“I don’t think it’s so shameful,” Avery said. His cock pulsated in Wuzu’s tight ass, and though Avery was still, his hips continued moving, grinding his dick within Wuzu’s guts. Avery wanted to be even more indignant, but he thought he might get Wuzu in trouble, so he said, “But yes, he is ashamed of what’s happening. I’m ramrodding him, as we say here, or black guys do anyway. My dick is in his ass-“
“I do not need the details. Make it hurt,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “Ask him if he did his best.”
“Uh… Wuzu… did you do your best?”
“Yes, always,” Wuzu said. It sounded like this was a past argument between them, or more likely a one-sided argument since Wuzu simply stated things declaratively, rather than argue about them. Wuzu spoke simply, proudly, as though all he cared about was that he did his best. Mr. Gakimosimi, on the other hand, scoffed like he didn’t care about doing one’s best — all he cared about was results, and whatever had happened between them, Wuzu was held responsible for the results.
“Ask him about the penis in his butt-ocks.” His Japanese accent was mich stronger when he said butt-ocks for some reason.
“Uh…. Mr. Gakimosimi wants me to ask you about the cock in your ass,” Avery said.
“There is… a man’s cock inside me,” Wuzu said. “It is… There is approx-imate-lee twenty-two centimeters of cock inside me. I submit to a man. I am allowing him to pluck my manhood.”
“Good,” Mr. Gakimosimi said with a cocky sigh. “You are doing well, Mr. Flowers. Do you enjoy my man?”
“Yes, very much,” Avery said. He gritted his teeth because his sensitive dick throbbed within Wuzu’s tight ass. It sent shivers of pleasure up Avery’s body, and he bit back a petite moan.
“Good. I am glad,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “I assumed you would want revenge on him for extorting you.”
“Not really. Besides,” Avery said, “I know you are the one truly responsible. You extorted me. You just used him as a tool.” Avery was surprised at how easily he spoke once he got started, despite the intense sensation writhing its way up his body. This was too intense for Avery to censor himself. Wuzu’s ass clenched around his cock when it became apparent that Avery was talking back to Mr. Gakimosimi. Avery felt a surge of pride alongside the fear that Mr. Gakimosimi would seek to punish him.
But Mr. Gakimosimi just sighed and chuckled. “You misunderstand, Mr. Flowers. He chose you as a target for extortion. Yes, I charged him with finding businesses that could pay. But he was the one who decided that you were an appropriate target.”
“Oh…” Avery was too turned on and too close to orgasm to be able to pay attention to his words or formulate a response. Does that mean it was Wuzu’s fault to begin with? Or was Wuzu forced into it? In what sense was Mr. Gakimosimi the boss if Wuzu decided who to target, how to pressure them and then enacted the entire plan by himself? That was too weighty a conversation to have when his balls were on the verge of busting though, so Avery didn’t ask.
Mr. Gakimosimi laughed into the phone. Avery got the impression he didn’t laugh often. Wuzu bucked and winced as though he heard it.
“You will finish inside him, yes? You will ejac-u-late in his ass?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked, sounding like he was uncomfortable talking about semen and again his accent was excessive on that one word.
“Yes…”
“Good. Tell him to be back here by noon, or I will send him back to you again,” Mr. Gakimosimi said and hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
“Your boss is an asshole,” Avery said, giving him his phone back. “He said you have to be back at noon, or he’ll send you back to me again.”
Wuzu nodded. A moan escaped from his lips as he writhed beneath Avery’s grasp. “I have great respect for him,” Wuzu said in a pinched, clipped voice.
“I appreciate that, Wuzu,” Avery said. A part of him wanted to accuse Wuzu of extortion, but that required more thought than he was capable right now. He felt his orgasm approaching like an oncoming train.
Avery resumed slamming his hips harder and harder against Wuzu’s powerful frame. Pleasure washed over his body, and Wuzu’s at the same time. He could feel an imminent orgasm pounding through Wuzu as well. He sensed it in the pulsating of the veins in Wuzu’s cockshaft.
They both finally climaxed at the same time, hot cum spraying within Wuzu’s ass as he shot his own load into Avery’s fingers. Wuzu’s muscles all tensed at once, and he gasped with a short, sharp breath. Fat ropes of jizz spurted onto the floor, reaching several feet in front of Wuzu and a few drops even splattered on the wall.
Avery clutched those spasming back muscles, fingers digging playfully into the colorful yakuza tattoos. He threw his head back as Wuzu grunted beneath him. Wad after creamy wad spurted across Avery’s fingers, while Avery shot his own wad deep into Wuzu. Avery’s cheeks turned red, and his moan of intense sensations turned into a howl of desperate desire. When the pleasure grew too much, Avery pumped his hips at Wuzu’s tight ass, while he slammed his face on the meaty thickness of Wuzu’s back.
Holding his head up while his dick limpened inside Wuzu, Avery licked his lips, still feeling the aftershocks of his climax. Wuzu turned his head to watch with a sense of disgust on his face as Avery sucked down every salty drop of cum.
Then, at last Wuzu pulled out from under Avery and breathed a sigh of relief. Hot cum dribbled from his smooth ass. “Thank you,” he said. He wiped the cum off his ass and his inner thigh with a handkerchief he plucked from the suit jacket he’d placed on the arm of Avery’s chair. “I enjoyed that.”
“Really?”
Wuzu nodded. “Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi, or he will find some other way to punish me instead.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Come on back anytime you need to be ‘punished’,” Avery said. He gave Wuzu a light smack on the ass, watching his plump cheek shake as he checked that his clothes were not wrinkled. Wuzu began dressing. Avery wiped his own dick clean, and he said, “I’m always ready to dish out punishment.”