Tag: featuring ex-cons

He coulda knocked Limey out cold, hard and flat with one blow if’n he admiredta. Buck Sampson was damn near seven foot tall and built broad as a buick, biceps like fenders, chest purring like a jag. Shit, he liketa have done knocked skinny-ass Limey outta his sandals and his drawers, send him into next week like a defective calendar. Buck don’t even gotta muss up his mullet, which was wavy and black and greasy in the pen cuz he don’t got no shampoo to warsh it proper-like.

From Cellmates In the Dark

Buck was lumberingly huge — nearly seven feet tall — and Cody was short and lean. They both had mullets, Buck’s dense and jet black, Cody’s a curly blond the color of old hay. Buck’s barrel chest crowded the cell, and his giant frame exuded so much heat he felt like a fireplace. But on the other hand, Buck was a local-champion boxer with biceps the size of a fat baby, and he knocked back any motherfucker who got in Cody’s face. He had only survived prison because everyone knew he was protected by his giant cellmate and long-time buddy.

From Buck & Cody Outta Prison Again

It was Buck Sampson, a burly man with a blistering Appalachian drawl. He sometimes kept peace at Lipsweet on rowdy nights, but he was usually employed to collect debt for Simon’s pa, and that was what he been doing ce soir. He carried a pocketful of cash and a face full of cuts, with blood streaming sur his side and soaking his shirt. Buck snorted like a horse with a shattered sinus and wagged his finger at M. Prêteur.

From The Alphas of Louisiana

Buck had a swampy dull-edged drawl. They were both from the same place — right here in Smashwood Trailer Park — but Buck had a heavy, lonesome accent full of nooks and valleys while Cody had a pitchy, yodelly twang, like his accent bounced off mountaintops on its way out his mouth.
He tried to breathe through his nose — Lucy hated it when he huffed and puffed, but Buck had been in so many fights his nose cartilage was busted, and his nose was squat, wide, crooked and sinus-clogged.

From Buck & Cody Outta Prison Again

Buck sprouted up beside like a sudden stop sign. Buck was a darn near seven-foot-tall slab of hillbilly meat, with a big tangle of mullet, shoulders as broad as a ox and a oxy heave to his breathing too, cuzza his oft-broke nose. His nostrils was going thumbawumba as he slapped that man’s hand down like a unrespeckful fly.

From The Redneck Ex-Con, Cellmate Memories and Overwhelming Manhood

He had scruffy black hair, uncut in the back, untamed, a little greasy, not quite a mullet but almost, all layers and tangles of unwashed hair. He was heavily tattooed and mustachioed, with a scruffier beard underneath that. He wore a sleeveless black shirt that showed off those tattoos: biker symbols, Rob guessed, and some words in flowing script. The shirt wasn’t made sleeveless, the ragged edges suggested he had cut the sleeves off.
    From The Alpha White Trash

Buck was a mulleted hillbilly, but even he treated Wayne like sub-caste dirt. His oft-broke nose wrinkled in Wayne’s direction, and Wayne aimed a polite nod back at him. Buck was a white trash mullet-heavy ex-con, big as a barge, broad-muscled, swollen ears, jutting chin, tall, heaps of hollers and hoots in his Appalachian accent.

From Wayne the Ex-Cop

Buck dudded up in black slacks and a bright yellow shirt with a white tie. He ain’t know if’n that “went together”, but t’wasn’t easy to find clothes that fit. T’was the nicest outfit he could put together prompt-like. The tie was tied right, he was sh’ore of that, but remained self-conscious ’bout it. It hugged his neck snug as a turtle shell. The shirt was too small round the wrists and neck. The American flag tattooed on Buck’s neck poked out atoppa the collar.

From Buck the Workin’ Man

That was a very big problem for Buck, who was a very big man. He had a cumbrous seven-foot frame, powerfully built, a former state-champion wrestler though that was more than a decade ago, and he’d filled out his muscles with heft and hair and a greasy black mullet of coarse curls.

From Buck the Ex-Con

Buck was a yawn short of seven feet tall. Cody was skinny as a shriveled rifle, while Buck was a thundercloud man with thickness abundant. Both got a mullet, Buck’s a greasy gom of raven tangles.

From Cody the Roughneck

Buck was pretty obviously a barrelhouse man — built like a ram, his nose and ears squashy and cauliflowered up like a boxer, his black mullet dusty, his unkempt beard as black as coal dust… He was too big, too hairy, too sweaty, too rough and too thick-headed for most women, and the dancers here were not shy about telling him so.

From Johnny Redcob the Bouncer

Buck was a white trash mullet-heavy ex-con, big as a barge, broad-muscled, swollen ears, jutting chin, tall, heaps of hollers and hoots in his Appalachian accent.

From Wayne the Ex-Cop

Buck was so big — a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than any other man here — and that mullet! His clothes were a wreck, his tee shirt too small, wrinkled, faded, frayed at the edges, even ripped and haphazardly sewn over the shoulder.

From The Redneck Ex-Con

Buck was a chambery hulk of a man, damn near seven feet tall and as broadly muscled as a ox. He got a thick, unkempt mullet the color of a new moon at midnight. Buck’s scruff covered up his ruddy cheeks… (a) chemical smell made Buck wrinkle his crooked-cartilage fist-shape nose. He breathed loud cuz he was a amateur boxer and his nose done got broke buncha times a couple years back, in the early 90s. He tried to breathe normal, cuz Mistah Gregarian scumbled on another one his looks. Buck straightened his tie, which looked too short. Buck was so big most clothes ain’t fit. How far down was a tie sposedta go anyways? Buck ain’t know, and Mistah Gregarian’d scold him silly if’n Buck axed, so’n he ain’t ax.

From Buck the Dumbass

That’s because Buck was lumberingly huge — nearly seven feet tall — and Cody was short and lean. They both had mullets, Buck’s dense and jet black, Cody’s a curly blond the color of old hay. Buck’s barrel chest crowded the cell, and his giant frame exuded so much heat he felt like a fireplace. But on the other hand, Buck was a local-champion boxer with biceps the size of a fat baby, and he knocked back any motherfucker who got in Cody’s face. He had only survived prison because everyone knew he was protected by his giant cellmate and long-time buddy.

From Buck & Cody Outta Prison Again

He got hands as big as a baseball catcher’s mitt, and just as leathery too, on account of Buck been working oil rigs and chain gangs since he was a boy.

From Buck and Cody Locked Up Again

Buck Sampson had a thirteen-inch cock, pushing fourteen, and he was nearly seven feet tall, putting his crotch at most people’s head-height. That meant when he got a hardon, everybody around saw it. Lem was a little taller than average, so he didn’t have to dodge Buck’s stiffies lest he lose an eye, but he still noticed it when Buck got an erection.
Buck spent most of his time outside of work and the mess hall wearing a pair of faded briefs or less. He’d pop a boner most nights while speaking sweet about his girl Lucy back home or just plain doing push-ups. In those tighty-whiteys — or tighty-grays, mostly — his dong would pop out and shamelessly protrude. Lem disapproved.

From Buck the Roughneck

He was an ex-wrestler and ex-boxer, so his nose was crooked and rugged, and it wiggled when his head moved. His voice was deep and broad, burdensomely dense, like it hurt to laugh… He inhaled deeply of Buck’s masculine musk, sweaty, intensely acrid and biting, a bit musty and warm and inviting. He had taken off the real shirt he wore during his shift and now wore just the undershirt. It was tight on his shoulders — he bought the biggest he could find, but it wasn’t big enough. The strapped sleeves were frayed and digging into his shoulders, and the fabric ended an inch above his pants. The hair of his belly where it melded with his pubic hair was visible, and the shirt was matted to his chest with sweat.

From Aroused by Ex-Cons

His mullet was greasy and dusty and it smelled like him and it made her pussy tingle. Something about the way he had to stuff himself through the door to her trailer, his hefty frame not quite fitting, turned Lucy on until she couldn’t take it anymore… Buck was huge, and he stank of big-boy sweat. His crotch was an unkempt mess of pubic hair, his beard and mullet greasy and dusty, his windswept face harsh and a little pitying… Buck’s body hair was like copper wool, which was ironic because the hair on his head — his jet-black mullet — was always greasy and slick.

From Ex-Con Cravings Can’t Be Refused

“Hey, Mason, Mason, hoss, hey,” came a thick-and-raspy, holler-heavy voice in the darkness, so deep you could tell the speaker was tall and big-chested. He sounded like a church bell come to life. The roughneck gotta stoop to come into the first-aid clinic. He was indeed a mighty stack of shoulders. He was Buck Sampson, the biggest worker on Rig E19 in the North Pacific. He was as broad as an ox and as tall as a gorilla, well past six and a half feet, tall enough to duck when he walked through the rig’s doorways. He had a big mane of greasy black curls. His shirtless chest rippled, his body hair clinging to his skin because of a sheen of sweat gleaming in the light that spilled in from the corridor. He exuded heat that Mason could feel, amid the cold barreling in from the harshly lit and unheated corridor. Buck was nearly naked, wearing only a pair of scrawny tight-whites that ain’t fit on him. The pouch was overstuffed, the outline of his giant cock clearly visible, pubic hairs protruding around the sides.

From Roughnecks Got Oral Needs!

“You ain’t gonna spend all ya time in here working out, is ya?” Cody asked Buck when he saw Buck getting friendly with the Jagged Right’s enforcers. They wasn’t gotta ask Buck if he wanna be an enforcer like them — ain’t no other option open for a feller like Buck. Sure as shit weren’t gonna be an accountant or something. Buck was dumb as a whole truck fulla dead ducks, and he got muscles for miles.

From Bunkmates in the Dark

Buck Sampson shook his head. His mighty thirteen inch cock flip-flopped between his callused mitts. He was a roughneck like some of the others, home from the oil rig to spend his money on his woman, which in fact was where she was today, shopping like a mother hen, leaving him free to wreck this sissy in whichever hole was free when Buck got into the trailer. Buck was damn near seven foot tall, built like a stevedore, which was not a word with which Buck ever done made acquaintance with, and he had a deep huffy-puffy voice

From Smashwood Trailer Park