featuring jocks – Mansploitation

The Truck Stop

Charlie is a football player on the road with his college team when he stumbles across a notorious cruising spot, where his coach shows him the ropes… Coach Thickman introduces Charlie to an exciting world of man-on-man truck stop action!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Charlie Smitkowski nervously got out of the van and stretched in the truck stop parking lot. His teammates all seemed so confident, but he didn’t know how they could be. He certainly didn’t feel confident here. He never did.
For one thing, he was nervous he would get hard in the shower. Thinking about it did give him a stiffy, or at least it made his dick twitch like it might get stiff. Maybe that wasn’t a reasonable fear — he had never gotten hard in the group shower back in the GHU athletic building. But he would be nervous here, naked among strangers instead of his teammates.
The GHU football team scattered towards the showerhouse. Charlie gulped. He was glad to be out of the van, which stank of his teammates’s sweat. They had spent the last three hours in the van.
There were only two universities in Wyoming with football fields, so Charlie and his teammates made this day and a half voyage by van often, every time they played the other team. They always stayed in a hotel halfway there, but that hotel — the only option for many miles around — had little to no hot water. They claimed they did, but the showers either didn’t work, didn’t spray hot water or sprayed only brown, muddy water.
So no one ever showered there at the motel. They stopped at the Ramwide Truck Stop to shower instead.
But it wasn’t just his team. Old men showered there, rednecks, black men, bikers, old men, Latinos with tattoos and bullet wounds — it was scary. This was a rural area, but one that was right off a highway with a lot of truck traffic. The truck stop was busy even out here in the middle of nowhere.
But Charlie felt compelled not to let on that he was scared. He didn’t want to be the only one on the team who felt that way. He’d look like the biggest pussy in the world. None of the other players seemed nervous about it. They were all nonchalant, like they showered with dozens of naked strangers every day.
So he hung back. He tried to steel his nerves. He went into the showerhouse after his teammates, thinking he’d feel more comfortable that way.
A fat cock sat stared at him. Charlie backed out in a panic. There was a man changing in there, a naked white man with a shaved head and a vaguely nazi look, his huge white dick dangling just a few feet from the door. He made a kissy face at Charlie, who turned tail as he heard the man laugh.
Not wanting to look frightened, Charlie went to the vending machines. He made it look like he simply decided to drink a bottle of iced tea before going in the showerhouse.
He wondered if he could get away with not showering. It’s not like anyone was watching to make sure. He didn’t think he stank, and he hadn’t been sweating very much. He could shower in Cheyenne anyway — he never really got why they bothered showering here in the truck stop, when they’d all go straight to the visitors’s locker room in Cheyenne as soon as they got there. It was just instinct and habit, he guessed, that made his teammates shower in the morning. Nobody wanted to be the stinkbutt who didn’t shower, and nobody wanted to look like a squeamish punk unwilling to get naked in front of other men.
He hurried around the back of the showerhouse, hoping to relax out of view for a moment. The woods behind the truck stop were dense with foliage, so Charlie couldn’t see more than a few feet away. There was a patch of no-man’s-land between the showerhouse and the highway, which was where Charlie headed.
A path was there, blocked by shrubbery so it wasn’t visible until Charlie was in that patch of scrubby forest. It wasn’t a marked path, just a beaten route in the dirt. Charlie took a few steps down it, curious why there was a trail out here.
“Hmmm-hmm…” That was Coach Thickman’s voice.
Charlie gulped. He crept closer. When he got around a tree, he saw Coach Thickman — a hefty, broad-chested black man with a scruffy beard and a shaved head — with his pants around his ankles. He held onto the scalp of a thin white man as he rammed his dick into the man’s throat.
Charlie gasped. He wanted to run away, he felt an instinctual need to leave.
But he also couldn’t quite bear to stop watching. He wanted to see what happened. His eyes opened wide. He had never seen anything like this.
Coach Thickman looked confident — he always did, he was swaggerous, dominant, tough. He had a powerful body, thick as anything, with a hairy chest for a black man. He taught “industrial arts” and coached the basketball team. He often came out on football team trips too, which he said was because he wanted to support them but probably was because he could use the overtime. He had a cocky strut that Charlie had always found exciting, exhilirating, even arousing.
That was how Charlie wished he could carry himself. Coach Thickman’s heavy balls slapped against the man’s chin as he humped his cock down the man’s throat. Thickman let out a little bristly moan too, and he murmured some soft nothings as he pounded away.
The white man swallowing Coach’s cock was Avery, the team manager and a junior at the college. He came here frequently to cruise, so it was a happy coincidence that the team would be here too.
They were mostly truckers, Southern men with huge cocks and musky bodies. Avery would lick them clean like a cat if they let him. Coach Thickman’s foot-long cock throbbed veinily in Avery’s mouth. The sour-salty flavor of precum coated his tongue and throat, as he swallowed every inch of that massive shaft.
“Hmmm… Come on, open up,” Coach Thickman murmured. He used both hands to keep Avery’s head in place. He didn’t pound into Avery’s throat violently. He focused on grinding his dick deeply in Avery’s gullet, continuing even when he felt resistance and gagging. Thickman knew well how to throat a man down, and Avery was an expert in accepting massive alpha male cocks.
Intense pleasure rocketed through his body. A part of Coach Thickman thought he was being watched, but he ignored that feeling — he didn’t mind, for one thing, he liked putting on a little show. He wondered if any of the football players were watching, he hoped so.
“Swallow that shit, boy…” Coach Thickman said with a grunt.
He sprayed his wad deeply into Avery’s body, coating his belly and filling it with his creamy seed. It was hot and thick, and it seeped into Avery’s flesh from his stomach. Spasms of pleasure rocketed up Thickman’s body, and his muscles all rippled at once. A throaty groan came out of him.
His muscles were so powerful, so thick, so firm — or so they looked. Charlie had to fight the urge to show himself and grope Coach Thickman. Sweat clung to the curves of his biceps, and it glistened off his skin in the dim light. Charlie murmured to himself and licked his lips, his hand in his pants playing with his own throbbing erection.
“Hmm-hmm, take it, swallow it, damn…”
Thickman’s fat cock kept going, pulsating in Avery’s throat. Avery choked up a big wad of white precum that dripped down his chin and landed on the forest floor. Avery gurgled merrily, slurping on Coach Thickman’s limpening dick and taking in every drop he could.
Finally he was done. “Damn, boy…” Coach Thickman took his dick out and tucked it away in his track pants. His last few drops of jizz were soaked up by the fabric of his pants, which made a small wet spot in his crotch. Thickman either didn’t notice or didn’t care.”We got another away game in two weekends. You gonna drive the van for us?”
“Maybe,” Avery said with a smile, his hands moving up Thickman’s body under his shirt, to grope up his muscles. “I’ll have to check my calendar.”
They kept talking, but Charlie darted away. He didn’t want to get caught watching. That would be embarrassing, especially since he realized only just now that he had been jacking off. He had shot his own wad onto the ground. It felt so good and so natural he didn’t notice until he was orgasming, and now his dick was so sensitive it hurt.
Did they know he had done that? Would anyone be able to tell? Charlie was in a panic as he fled back to the bus.
Luckily, everyone just assumed Charlie had taken a shower, and no one asked. He snuck a sniff of his pits, which didn’t smell too strongly of sweat. Charlie assumed he hadn’t been seen because no one ever mentioned it.
But Avery had seen. He knew better than to acknowledge it though, because he thought he could still land a taste of Charlie’s meat if he waited for the right moment. Charlie Smitkowski was one of the athletes at GHU Avery most craved.
Avery hung out behind the truck stop waiting for that van of football jocks to return. He got a few truckers in the two weeks he waited, but no one as handsome as Coach Thickman. That was expected. They couldn’t all be winners.
Still, he waited. This would pay off soon, he was sure, and he had little else to do as his classes were almost done for the semester. He was just studying for the finals at this point.
He heard the van pull up while Avery finished a bottle of water at a picnic table near the showerhouse. It had been a slow day, unseasonably hot and humid as could be. He went to the air conditioner, where he could stand and peer into a window into the shower and the whirr of the compressor meant Avery didn’t have to worry about making noise. That position gave him a good look into the shower, and he could see out front if Coach Thickman was heading back here.
A muscular blond jock was flopping his dick between his fingers as he soaped himself up. Avery watched the shower water run over his plump ass as he shook his cock — he seemed to be making a point about how big or high-quality his cock was, or maybe he was just trying to get attention. But out of the corner of his eye, Avery saw that Charlie Smitkowski meander casually behind the showerhouse. He went around the other side of the building, so he didn’t see Avery at the air conditioner.
As soon as he saw Charlie, Avery hurried away from the air conditioner and darted behind a tree. He pretended to be waiting there when Charlie nervously approached.
“Hey,” Avery said.
“Hi.” Charlie was tense, lips pursed together. He didn’t know what brought him here, except that he thought that Avery would probably be here again, and he had made sure to beat Coach Thickman here. Charlie figured that he’d have some privacy if he was first.
Avery didn’t say anything else. He just dropped to his knees and pulled Charlie’s dick out through the fly of his jeans.
His dick disappeared into the man’s mouth, and Charlie let out a nervous whimper. Pleasure shot up his spine. It felt good, better than anything he had ever done. He wondered if this man was that good, or if he had simply never been with a good woman.
His dick rocketed to full erection. Charlie moaned and licked his lips. He could feel an orgasm already rising up within him, and he was worried he’d cum quickly and look like a loser.
“Howdy, son,” Coach Thickman’s baritone voice boomed and echoed in Charlie’s mind.
Charlie winced and turned around just in time to get a face full of Coach Thickman’s bare chest. He was in his boxers and shower sandals, his hefty chest shaking as he came closer. His dick was already poking out through the fly of his shorts.
“Oh, uh! Hi! Coach Thickman! Hi! I-“
“Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a low, throaty murmur. He stood next to Charlie, so close their asscheeks pressed against each other. Charlie felt small and weak. Coach Thickman’s heavy arm draped over Charlie’s shoulders, and his armpit hair rubbed against Charlie’s bicep.
That was enough to keep Charlie from cumming too quickly. He was too nervous to do anything more than try not to smell Coach Thickman’s armpit — which didn’t smell bad, since he had just showered moments ago, it smelled like deodorant, but it was intense and warm and Charlie felt like less of a man every time he caught a whiff.
Their dicks touched. Charlie gulped. He looked around as though considering fleeing — the thought did cross his mind, but he wouldn’t want to blue-ball himself like that. He could do this. It was so exciting his heart raced, he felt like he’d never really been alive before this moment.
His pale tan cock smushed up against Coach Thickman’s. Charlie was glad to see that they were the same size — he would have felt inadequate if his dick was small. Avery could tease both cocktips at once, slurping down the precum that flowed from both piss-slits.
He tongued both shafts and licked all four balls in turn. Avery enjoyed dragging this out because he liked the sight of both men feeling each other up. It was Coach Thickman mainly, whose arms flexed as he moved, thick muscles caressing Charlie’s smoother chest.
But Charlie couldn’t quite stay still either. He jumped back and forth on his feet. Every time a shiver of pleasure shot through him he blushed and quivered a little more.
Charlie saw Coach Thickman’s mouth coming and could have moved his head away. It was obvious they were about to kiss.
A part of him wanted to be kissed. For just a moment, he allowed himself to feel desire for the mature football coach with the grizzled beard. Charlie gulped.
“Ah-!” Charlie’s gasp of surprise was cut off by Coach Thickman kissing him on the lips. Their tongues collided in Charlie’s mouth, while Charlie lost himself in his coach’s arms.
He didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like forever. Coach Thickman noisily kissed him, slobbering over his lips and cheeks and neck. He even left a hickey that Charlie would later have to claim was from a girl last night (luckily, the others all believed him).
They were still kissing as they both orgasmed at once. Avery slurped on both cocks the best he could, slathering both dicktips with his spit. He used one hand on each shaft too. He loved being double-teamed in the mouth, especially by men whose dicks instinctively fought with each other for space in his mouth.
Creamy cum coated his tongue and ran down his throat. It was salty and warm, with two distinct flavors — one bright and sunny, the other fragrant and spiced — Avery couldn’t decide which one came from which. He guzzled down every drop, continuing to lick both piss-slits even as both men’s muscles twitched.
“Goddamn!” Charlie sounded like he might cry, he was so impassioned and stressed. He wiggled in Coach Thickman’s arms.
“Shit yeah,” Coach Thickman said. He finally let go and stepped away. He took a deep breath, laughed and smacked Charlie’s asscheek. “Good job, son.”
“Uh, thanks.” Charlie’s face was red, and he took a deep breath. He tried to look nonchalant.
“You boys have a good game,” Avery said. He stood up and stretched his legs. “But you better move on. I want to get going before too late.”
Charlie was glad to go. He was glad for the unspoken rules of man-on-man action — Coach Thickman didn’t need to tell him that this was a don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of scenario. Coach Thickman would never mention it, and Charlie would try hard not to think about it.
It was hard not to think about it though, over the next few weeks as Charlie prepared for the state championship that would bring him back to that same truck-stop once more.
That had felt so good he could scream, and he needed to feel that way again. He even considered driving down there once in the middle of the night — if he hadn’t needed to borrow a car, he probably would have done it.
Of course, Avery probably wouldn’t be there at three o’clock in the morning anyway, Charlie told himself. Charlie had never told anyone what happened. He and Coach Thickman looked at each other and shared wry, awkward grins, but Charlie didn’t think there was any way that anyone else would find out.
He went to the truck stop one more time. Charlie told himself that this would be it — the last time the team went came to this truck stop this year. Hopefully next year he wouldn’t be doing anything like this. Maybe he’d even have a girlfriend by then.
He hung back while the rest of the team hurried into the shower, while Charlie snuck around back. He arrived in the woods behind the truck stop shower, where he turned around a tree and ran into Coach Thickman.
“Charlie, my boy.” Coach Thickman crossed his arms over his big black chest. He was hairy, with an amateur bodybuilder’s body, which made Charlie nervous — last time, Coach Thickman’s body hadn’t been as hairy because he’d shaved his chest recently. But now Charlie felt even weaker and younger than ever. Thickman glared at him and placed one heavy hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
“Coach Thickman! I was just back here, uh, to… to see, y’know, what-“
“Hush, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “I know exactly why you was back here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then, in one smooth motion, Coach Thickman lowered his head and planted his lips right on Charlie’s. At first, Charlie had an urge to push away and make him stop, the same urge he’d had before when they got their dicks wet at the same time.
But then Charlie realized he wanted it. He wasn’t scared — a little nervous, but not scared — and he wanted this to happen more than anything. He didn’t mind that Avery wasn’t here.
He wanted to taste Coach Thickman.
Coach’s arms wrapped around Charlie’s body, holding him close as they kissed. Coach Thickman stroked his smooth back and shoulders, making Charlie quiver in excitement.
“What.. was that?,” Charlie said, his voice wavery and plaintive.
“Hush. That ain’t the issue at hand, boy,” Coach Thickman said. “We gotta get down to business, and that business is makin’ love. We gonna brew up a big pot of lust, boy. Ya feel me?”
“Yes, Coach.” Charlie shook as he sunk to his knees. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. He opened his mouth and it filled immediately with Coach’s throbbing black cock. It was thick and veiny, and it tasted both bad and good at once — it was musty and fresh, sweet and sour, salty and watery, creamy and thick, all at once, and it made Charlie want to taste even more of it.
He opened his mouth wide, letting Coach Thickman drill his dick down his throat. Charlie stroked himself off as he took it. His throat gradually loosened until finally he felt that entire massive rod invading his throat with each thrust of Coach’s hips.
It felt so right. Charlie was right where he wanted to be, and his anxiety vanished; he was no longer worried about being caught, or about being teased, or about Coach Thickman thinking him less of a man. All Charlie wanted to do was swallow down every inch of his mean and every drop of his cumload.
“Alright, if you ready, bend over, boy,” Coach Thickman said, murmuring softly. He pulled his dick out and gently guided Charlie into position.
At first, Charlie didn’t know if he wanted to do this. He hadn’t really thought about taking it in the ass. Was this how people normally did that the first time? He didn’t know. He wanted to come up with reasons not to do it, but his mind couldn’t come up with any.
The only downside, he thought, was that it would hurt the first time, or so he assumed. When he felt his ass stretch, however, the pain was not bad at all. Coach Thickman’s cock was lubed up with spit (and a little actual lube that Coach Thickman had brought for precisely this sort of occurrence).
“Oh god!” Charlie gritted his teeth. There was potent pressure, like he needed to shit but couldn’t. That sensation only gradually loosened as he felt more and more dickmeat cram into his tight hole.
He wasn’t sure he could keep doing this. The feelings were so powerful he couldn’t even speak. All he could do was wrench his head and let out a meek, wordless howl that made Coach Thickman chuckle. His dick twitched in Charlie’s ass.
“I’m all the way in ya now, boy,” Coach Thickman said with a grunt. He smacked Charlie’s cheek, sending a shiver of pleasure through his body. “We’s makin’ love.”
“Oooooh….” Charlie’s voice broke. He tried to stroke himself off, but he couldn’t focus enough. His asshole and prostate commanded all of his attention.
He didn’t need to jack himself off though. As Coach Thickman slammed into him, his hands roamed over Charlie’s body and soon reached around to his cock.
With Charlie on all fours, Coach Thickman gave him a reacharound. He slammed his dick in with all the power he could muster — that was why Thickman cornholed men so much, they didn’t complain when you rammed it in, not like women did — until his balls made a pleasing thwack sound every time they slapped against Charlie’s body.
“Alright, boy, we gonna blow our nut in a minute,” Coach Thickman said, showering Charlie’s tense face and neck with kisses. His deep gravelly voice resonated in Charlie’s ear. “Ya hear me? You might feel all kinda bad feelin’s afterwards. You might start thinkin’ you you less of a man. Don’t think none of those things. What we doin’ here ain’t no thing, ain’t nothin’ you gotta ever think about again.”
“Yes, Coach,” Charlie’s voice was tense and pinched. He moaned as his cock throbbed an orgasm erupted inside him.
“This is just lust. We just actin’ on feelings, and we ain’t gotta think ’bout that lust again, not till those feelings appear once more. Ya feel me?”
“Yes, Coach.”
Cum sprayed into Charlie’s ass, great big gobs of it that coated his insides and seeped through his belly. Charlie was so focused on that pleasure deep within him that he barely noticed his own orgasm or the jets of cum he shot onto the ground and Coach Thickman’s wrist.
They kept going. Charlie was nearly totally limp, unable to process the potent pleasure wracking his body, but Coach Thickman didn’t slow down at all. He kept slamming his cock in and out of Charlie’s ass, making a big frothy mess of cum that formed a puddle on the ground.
At last he was done. Charlie’s mind reeled as he collapsed and Coach Thickman pulled out.
“Ah, shit, shit,” Charlie said with a grunt. He tried to stand but his knees were weak. Coach Thickman helped him up.
“You alright, boy?”
“Fine.” Charlie blushed. “Good. Cool. Fine.”
“Shush. C’mon, boy, we gotta go take a shower. Remember, ain’t nothin’ happened. If anyone asks, we came back here to share a cigarette we ain’t want the others to see us smoke,” Coach Thickman said. “You ready?”
“Yeah. I’m ready,” Charlie said. “Next time we have an away game-“
“Hush, boy. We’ll worry about that the next time I see you back here.”

Sharing a Bed With a Baseball Jock

Avery drives the team bus when he gets a chance to share a bed with a hunky basketball jock. Trent Wyatt’s girlfriend won’t let him go near another woman, but she won’t mind him getting his needs met another way…

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“My woman said she gonna cut my nuts off if I talk to another female,” Trent Wyatt said in a press conference. That caused a huge controversy that attracted Avery’s attention. Unlike everyone in the media, Avery was not worried because he said “nuts” nor because he used the term “my woman” nor because he used the word “female” in a dismissive manner nor because he accused his girlfriend of threatening assault. That was all silly nitpicking from Avery’s point-of-view.
It seemed the media was very thin-skinned these days.
Avery was interested because Trent Wyatt had specified — and repeated a few times in interviews since — that his girlfriend had warned him off other “females”. She hadn’t said anything about males.
That gave Avery an idea. He managed to pull a few favors within the GHU athletic department, which got Avery a gig driving the team bus for a game between the GHU Titans and Montana State. It was far enough away that they would have to spend a night in a hotel room.
Trent Wyatt was handsome like a movie star, and Avery had a plan to get a swing on his tasty basketball-jock meat. Trent was tall and lean, ropy-muscled with long legs and a sculpted face with dimples and cheekbones and all that jazz. He had only one tattoo — that was another thing that made him unusual in the American College Basketball Association — but it was a colorful doozy, a full-arm sleeve depicting the whole of US African American history, ending in the ornately decorated face of his grandmother near his wrist.
There had been so many reports on that goddamn tattoo last year. Avery had gotten sick of them. He watched a lot of them because Trent Wyatt was well-sculpted, and they showed tons of shirtless pictures of him to display the tattoo — Avery was ninety-percent sure that the reason Trent tried so hard to get the media to pay attention to the tattoo was to show off his chest.
And Avery had wanted him the entire time. He never even recalled what Trent said about the stuff on the tattoo because Avery was mesmerized by those dimples and those deep, dark eyes.
So he was giddy when the Titans climbed onto the team bus. Avery smiled politely but didn’t say much. The players mostly ignored him. They were huge — basketball players always seemed skinny on average to Avery, because they were never barrel-chested or bulky, but when he saw them in person, he could see how heavily stacked most of them really were. Their muscles were compact, pulled taut, so tight it almost looked painful, Avery thought, Trent especially. He looked like a three-hundred pound bodybuilder crammed into a hundred-eighty-pound body.
“Alright, gentlemen, I gotta read the required safety standards,” Avery said when they were all settled in. “Is anyone here a child under eighty pounds?”
“Yeah, me,” said Jashwan Mitchell. “I’m only seventy-four pounds.”
“Then you have to sit either in a child-seat or on my lap,” Avery said. “I choose my lap.”
They all laughed at Jashwan, who laughed too, a little too aggressively, like he wanted everyone to know it could only be a joke, that he’d never actually sit on Avery’s lap. Avery went through the rest of the required safety standards, then he got behind the wheel and set off. Avery got his caffeine pills out and kept them on the dashboard to take when he got tired, and he’d avoided caffeine for the last week to be sure it had a strong effect on him. He’d be driving until midnight. He could probably drive longer, but he wasn’t allowed to, and they should arrive at the hotel but midnight. Not just any hotel either, Avery planned this trip to be sure they stopped at the hotel whose setup was conducive to his plans.
Avery expected lots of rowdy behavior on the bus. They were athletes after all, and he had gone on the football team’s bus once back in high school. The guys then had been loud and rambunctious, and the bus driver had had to pull over twice to tell them to settle down. He was expecting horseplay, off-color jokes, crude gestures aimed at other drivers on the road and aggressive fight songs.
But the ride didn’t turn out like that at all. Maybe basketball and football players behaved differently on bus rides. The loudest they got was a debate over keto versus paleo diets. There was some snickering that Avery was pretty sure came from ogling over pictures on someone’s phone — presumably someone’s girlfriend in a bikini — but other than that, it was very quiet.
“Hey, man, is there gonna be a bar or somethin’ at this place?” Jashwan Mitchell asked when they got close to the night’s hotel.
“A bar at the hotel, yeah, I think so,” Avery said. He had actually chosen this hotel precisely because it had a nice bar and because the bar’s regular patrons included a number of women of loose repute. The basketball players were sure to get laid.
But he let the players discover that on their own. When they pulled in at the hotel, Avery parked and let them all out. He waited in the bus for a few minutes. The players all hurried into their rooms.
Avery came out when he saw the players beginning to head out to the bar. Few of them drank, but there were women galore in the bar, and that was what they were interested in. They all had a game tomorrow, that was why nobody wanted to get drunk. Once he had parked the bus and made sure all the players were checked in, Avery went to the main desk at the hotel to get his own room key.
“I’m sorry sir, there are no vacancies,” the clerk said.
“Are you sure? I was told there was always a room available for the bus driver.” Avery kept arguing with the clerk as he waited for Trent Wyatt to come out of his room. Finally it happened. He was hesitant, smoothing his fine, ironed shirt and fiddling with the gold chain around his neck.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”
“So I have to sleep on the bus?!” Avery threw his hands in the air. He hoped this was coming out believable — Avery in fact knew he needed to call ahead to register a room. Avery used to be a clerk in a motel, he knew exactly how this worked.
But he also knew that, if he couldn’t get a room of his own, he’d end up sharing a room and hopefully a bed with one of the players. He had exactly which player in mind.
“Hey, man, you need a room?” Trent said when he saw the fracas at the front desk.
Avery turned to face him and nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed to reserve a room. That’s not how most hotels around here work.”
The clerk was about to correct him, but Avery walked away with Trent before he could open his mouth. Avery patted Trent on the back, which was firm like a barrel of packed sand. Trent had taken a shower, and his skin exuded warmth still, a few beads of moisture still dotting his nape. His hair remained slightly moist, glistening in the brilliant light of the hotel lobby.
“That sucks, man…” Trent’s voice trailed off. There was an intense pressure in the air. It was obvious Trent felt he should invite Avery to stay in his room, but he wasn’t going to do that. Avery wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected it to happen quite like this. He just wanted to put the thought in Trent’s head. He’d let it bounce around in Trent’s mind for awhile.
“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just sleep in the bus, it’s comfortable enough,” Avery said. “I can rough it.”
“Huh, yeah.” Trent chuckled dryly.
“Thanks, sugar,” Avery said. He patted Trent on the six-packed belly. “Are you going to the bar? Don’t let those women lead you astray — you got a girlfriend at home, right? Stay with her, man. Do what she says, y’know…”
“Yeah…” Trent glanced at the bar, which was crowded and filled with hollering. Word had spread that most of an ABA team was hanging out in this bar, so it had filled up with skanks and hangers-on. One of those skanks was sucking off Jashwan Mitchell right when Trent walked in and nearly walked into his friend’s cock.
Avery watched. He wasn’t a voyeur, but he did enjoy seeing Jashwan’s veiny cock throb in the trashy woman’s mouth, and he enjoyed the bartender’s pained, desperate attempts to get them to stop without calling the police. It all happened too fast for the cops to get involved though. The whole blowjob took maybe three minutes, and then the slut ran off with a mouthful of basketball star cream.
That was hot. Avery licked his lips. He preferred to watch men fuck than to participate, and he’d found driving sports teams really gave him opportunities to watch.
Avery went out to the bus to wait. He thought he had about an eighty percent chance of getting Trent tonight. Avery had a sixth sense about that kind of thing. He spent the time looking on his phone to verify that quote — Trent had definitely specified that he wasn’t allowed to be with “females”, and Avery had definitely reminded him that he was not a female.
He googled Trent on some forums he knew of, to see if there were any rumors about Trent’s sexual history. He may have gotten sucked off by a stripper in Boise, Idaho — a woman claimed as much in a basketball forum, just days before Trent started specifying to reporters that he never got frisky on the road. Avery felt sure that was what had prompted Trent’s girlfriend to make him promise to stop. The stripper had probably contacted her.
That had only been six months ago. If he was really trying to be faithful now, Avery thought, he was probably desperately horny. He hadn’t been back to his house, and his girlfriend, in almost a month, after all. Avery didn’t think it was fair for women to expect their men to be faithful away from home, but Avery did enjoy it — it was one of the things that made it so easy for Avery to find the alpha males he enjoyed.
Back in the hotel, Trent Wyatt hadn’t stopped thinking about Avery.
He’d never messed around with a male. Back in the neighborhood Trent grew up in, it was considered acceptable, more or less, for men to mess around on the downlow. But Trent had never done so. Mainly that was for guys who couldn’t get laid by females. There was a flamboyant man in his neighborhood who would jerk off any eighteen-year-old if he wasn’t fat or addicted to drugs. Trent always had a bevy of females after him, so he would never do anything like that. He’d teased all the guys who did. He ignored it when they said that males throated dick better than any female. He didn’t believe it.
But the older he got, the more he could believe it. He still hadn’t done it. Somehow sex had gotten more complicated, even though he was married and an international sex symbol. His girlfriend rarely wanted to have sex anymore, and she didn’t even suck his dick except on his birthday.
That flamboyant bus driver was outside, waiting. He hadn’t explicitly said he would jack off Trent’s dick.
But Trent had a feeling it would happen if he went out there. He could get sucked off by one of these chicks too, no doubt. But she would likely want his phone number, she’d tell TMZ he was an asshole, she’d brag to her gal-pals, and his girlfriend would eventually find out. Plus, perhaps most importantly, Trent thought he’d be unable to avoid looking guilty if he went back to his girlfriend after fucking with another woman.
You can always bust a nut in a sissy. Feels just like a woman cuz they got the right equipment. They know how it all works.
That was what some of the older guys in Trent’s neighborhood said. Trent had thought it was a joke. They didn’t really believe it, right?
But now that Trent had a woman, he couldn’t help but believe it. It made sense, didn’t it? It wasn’t like Trent would ever leave his girlfriend to jack off with some white man. And he wasn’t even going to do something with Avery that he would do with his girlfriend — she rarely sucked his dick and never did anal.
Trent found himself walking out there without making the decision to go through with it. But he second-guessed himself when the cool night air hit his face. He scratched his balls through his jeans and discovered his dick was so hard it hurt. The women in the bar were so easy, and Trent’s girlfriend was so far away.
I gotta do something. Trent winced. He had an idea that would make it seem like less of a big deal, he thought, plus it’d make him look like a nice guy.
He went out to the bus and told the bus driver he could share his room. “I’m goin’ to sleep now, but you can come with me if you want,” Trent said. “We gonna have to share the bed.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Avery said, squealing and hugging Trent’s chest. Avery could see the telltale bulge of his hardon, but he didn’t bring it up. He just followed Trent to the hotel room. “I thought my back was going to get sore from sleeping in there.”
“Uh-huh.” Trent bit his lip. He remained tense in the hotel room as he took off his shirt. He liked it when anyone, even men, complimented his chest and his six-pack abs. Avery giggled at the sight.
“Damn, you must work out all the time.”
“Yeah. Pretty much,” Trent said. He posed. He flexed his biceps so Avery could squeeze them, and he even made his pecs bounce. He felt like a stripper. He was awkward at first, but when Avery’s infectious smile caught on, Trent smiled proudly and relaxed.
“Do you normally watch TV to go to sleep?” Avery asked as they settled in.
“Sometimes. My girlfriend don’t like it though.”
“Well she’s not here, so let’s do something she wouldn’t let you do normally,” Avery said. He added with a knowing wink, “You might prefer to have something to look at. You can always turn it off later.” He put the remote on the nightstand on Trent’s side of the bed.
It was softcore porn. Avery had put it on a video of a woman fingering herself, a pretty blonde with tits like sandcastles. Trent’s eyes were drawn to her. Avery winked at Trent, whose half-hard dick twitched in his boxers, but it didn’t seem Trent noticed. The sound was almost off, so all Trent could hear was the woman’s feminine moaning.
Only when the camera moved away from that woman and her tits that Trent noticed Avery watching him. Trent bristled, his muscles all flexing, though he pretended not to notice.
He’s definitely planning on tastin’ my dick… Trent gulped nervously. He couldn’t wait. His dick still throbbed mightily in his boxers.
Avery crawled under the covers and patted the mattress for Trent to join him. Trent grimaced and did so. That sexy babe on TV was hard to tear his eyes away from.
“Hmm… Just relax,” Avery said. “I bet that tonight, you’re going to sleep better than you have in a long time.” He whispered once Trent had settled under the covers, and Avery scooted closer to him. “Do you think so? Is there anything I can do to make you fall asleep better?”
“Uh, well…”
“Shush, you don’t have to say anything,” Avery said. He moved so close his breath condensed on Trent’s ear, and Avery’s hand crept over Trent’s chest. “I’ll just slip under the covers and you can put my hand and my mouth and… other parts… wherever you want them to be.”
Trent sucked in his breath. His dick was hard now, that woman onscreen drawing him in. Avery’s soft fingers caressed Trent’s flat belly. His touch made Trent’s muscles ripple and his pecs bounce, and Avery felt his heartbeat quicken.
It was so easy to believe those fingers belonged to that sexy woman on the TV, Trent thought, especially in the dark, under the covers. That was what her fingers would feel like, Trent was sure. He could picture it in his mind.
“Ssssshhh…” Avery licked Trent’s earlobe. “You can pretend you’re asleep…”His hand slid over Trent’s six-pack to his cock, reaching into his boxers. He gripped his dick and gave it a stroke, bringing it the rest of the way to full erection.
Trent moaned. “My girlfriend…”
“Ssssssssh…. You’re asleep, it’s okay, your girlfriend can’t be mad at you for things your body does when it’s asleep, and anyway, you won’t remember any of this,” Avery said. “Everybody needs a little release…”
“I’m not drunk, I don’t drink-“
“I know, shush…” Avery kissed him on the cheek and lowered his head beneath the covers. He sucked some of the sweat that beaded in the valley between Trent’s pecs. It was salty and warm, and it made Avery’s whole body surge with desire.
At last Avery made it to that cock. He’d freeze-framed on a video of Trent playing basketball in his shorts, cock plainly outlined by the fabric. He had that pic on his phone right now. So he’d been daydreaming about this moment for a long time. He was giddy that he finally got to taste the great Trent Wyatt’s cock.
It was even bigger than he had thought it’d be. He popped the tip in his mouth, making Trent’s whole body shake. His muscles flexed. Avery giggled. His soft limps caressed the rock-hard shaft, which throbbed beneath his touch.
“Oh god….-” Trent cut his moan off because Avery shushed him again. His dick pulsated in Avery’s mouth, rapidly firming up even though Avery hadn’t done much with it.
As Trent’s whole body undulated, Avery pushed his head up and down the shaft, deep-throating it, then pulling all the way off to take a sweat-scented breath of air, then deep-throating it again. Every time his nose hit Trent’s pubes, a moan came out of Trent. Avery murmured, “Shush, you’re asleep, remember? You can tell your girlfriend nothing happened, because you don’t remember it.”
Trent did feel like sleeping. He wasn’t asleep. But this was dark, and he couldn’t see Avery at all. With his eyes closed, he didn’t even see the TV, but he heard the moist, feminine sounds of emanating from the woman on TV.
The sour-salty taste of precum hit Avery’s tongue, and he slurped down every drop. Avery loved precum. He suckled on the tip of Trent’s dick, then throated him deeply until Trent gasped and cried out.
Trent wrapped his hands around Avery’s scalp and held on. He pumped his hips, humping Avery’s mouth as aggressively as anyone ever had.
He was on the verge of blowing his wad when Avery pulled off him. Trent let out a roar of frustration, followed by a desperate little mewling sound. His cock was ready to explode. He had never been this horny. The thought of not blowing his load right away made Avery pained.
He needn’t have worried. Before he could think, Trent felt Avery climb atop his body. Avery carefully kept the covers over him the best he could — the room was dark, so it didn’t hardly matter, but he knew from personal experience that men considered that sexy. It was easy to pretend he was a woman if they couldn’t see him.
Avery gripped Trent’s cock and slid down on it. He bit his lip at first, as intense, uncomfortable pressure flooded his ass. Trent’s dick stretched his tight hole, sending a few twinges of pain through his body. He kneaded the smooth, hard flesh of Trent’s muscled chest as he slid lower and rode him.
At last he was all the way down. His ass squeezed around Trent’s manhood, which pulsated inside him, throbbing so Avery could feel Trent’s heartbeat throughout his body.
He leaned his head down and kissed Trent’s grizzled chin — he was normally clean-shaved, but he hadn’t shaved yet on this road trip. Avery moaned into Trent’s ear. Pleasure exploded in Avery’s veins.
“Goddamn, man,” Trent said. He slowly lost his inhibitions and wrapped his hands around Avery’s waist. He guided him up and down on his cock.
The sheets and blankets fell off Avery’s body, but the room was dark enough that Trent still didn’t see him. Avery shivered a little in the sudden chill of the air-conditioned room.
Avery’s ass clenched. He moaned, his desire to sound like a woman momentarily fading as he shot his own load into his hand. His prostate exploded in intense pleasure that rocked through his body. He leaned his head back and would have howled but he didn’t want the hotel staff to tell them keep it down, so he muffled the sound and instead undulated intensely atop Trent’s crotch.
“Holy shit!” Trent didn’t worry about being loud. He was having the most potent orgasm he’d felt in a very long time. He filled Avery with his creamy seed, each gyration of his hips sending a new wave of pleasure that ratcheted his sensations up to a new level.
Trent couldn’t believe good that felt. His voice broke and he caressed Avery’s chest as though he might find breasts there if he looked hard enough. His body went from smooth and clean to drenched in sweat in mere moments.
Then he felt limp and fell back onto the bedspread. Still, he squirmed there as though it hurt because Avery remained on top of his dick, which still throbbed, exquisitely sensitive in Avery’s tight ass. It felt so good that Trent grunted with pain.
Finally, Avery slid off him, his entire body moist and slathered in fluids. Avery let out a long moan that filled the still hotel room.
The comfortable silence was interrupted moments later by a knock on the door. Trent’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he jumped out of bed.
“Uh… Hello?”
Trent’s eyes opened wide. “Hello?! What?!”
“Uh, sir… could you… We have received a complaint, sir. Can you keep it down in there?” the clerk said, his voice wavering, especially when Trent virtually ripped the door open. He hadn’t meant to come across as angry or intimidating, but he did, especially since he was so tall, muscular and stark-naked, massive dick dangling and gleaming with moisture between his legs. A few drops of cum still clung to the tip, and Trent hoped the clerk didn’t see it. It was dark, so probably it wasn’t visible.
Trent hadn’t meant to flash his cockmeat at the clerk. So he just grunted. “Uh-huh. Later.” He slammed the door shut.
Well, he thought, that clerk was definitely going to post about it on the ESPN forums. At least it wasn’t obvious he was in here with a man, or so Trent hoped.
He scooted back into bed besides Avery, who had cleaned up. Avery cuddled up next to Trent, who sighed and let him do so, even when he felt Avery’s dick touching his thigh.
“I’m glad I’m your driver,” Avery said. He kissed Trent’s neck. “Do you want me to wake you up in the morning, sweetie?”
“Hell yeah, babe. Keep ya head under the covers though, since there’ll be light in the room. And don’t make no noise if my girlfriend calls me in the morning. She prolly will.”

Floormates in the Dark

Avery is left in the dorm over spring break with the hunky exchange student Federico. He expected to share the building with Federico… but soon enough, they’re sharing a bed! Can Avery learn to appreciate Federico’s exotic ways?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Earlier today, Avery had realized that the only other of his floormates to be in the building right now was Federico. At the time, Avery just sighed and shook his head — he knew that Federico would come over and annoy him sooner or later.
That’s because Federico was an Italian exchange student and a star on the GHU soccer team. He came from Venice, where (he said) his father was a well-known local politician. He was a big burly foreigner with a hairy chest — like a seriously hairy chest, like he was a werewolf, so hairy the other floormates couldn’t imagine why he didn’t shave it— a loud voice and many annoying habits. Avery didn’t want to be rude, but he really did not want to spend the day with Federico.
So when Avery awoke to find that Federico was in his room in the middle of the night, he was angry. Federico had been following him around. First he was trying to get Avery to lift weights with him; Federico did that every morning and acted like it was a scandal when Avery said he never lifted weights. Then Federico wanted to eat dinner with him — Federico had crackers, cured meats and a slab of some stinky cheese, which Avery steadfastly refused to eat. It stank up this entire floor of Mannheim House and probably other floors too. Lastly Federico walked to the shower stark naked and stood in Avery’s doorway talking to him in thickly accented English about the weather.
His fat prick just dangled there between his legs, drawing Avery’s gaze to it. Avery gulped, trying to hide his stare. He had wondered if Federico was trying to turn him on.
Federico had been walking around the dorm naked most of the semester. It was normal for him in all-male environments, or so he said. He was shocked that Americans didn’t feel the same way. Back in Italy, he said, men weren’t worried about seeing each other naked — it was normal, and only squeamish losers got worked up over it. The RA had insisted he wear clothes to and from the shower though, and Federico had grudgingly complied.
But apparently Federico had interpreted that rule as applying only when the RA was actually here in Mannheim House. So now that it was the first day of spring break, he stood there in Avery’s doorway with his fat, uncut cock laying greasily against his thigh. Avery gulped.
Avery was only here during spring break because he was a team manager for the PE department, and they were practicing this week. Federico was here because he was an exchange student and couldn’t afford to go home for Spring Break.
“We could doing fun, we have entire floor to usselves, floormate-uh,” Federico said. Someone had jokingly called him a floormate back in September, and Federico had needed an explanation of what it meant and how to use -mate as a suffix. Federico thought it was great and had been calling everyone ‘floormate’ all semester. Federico cackled as Avery blushed, trying to ignore the bare cock beckoning Avery’s eyes.
Avery had simply declined to hang out. He said he had to study, which was technically accurate even if Avery had no intention of doing so. Avery ignored Federico’s irritated expression. He felt bad about rejecting Federico, who had been struggling to make friends in America, but he turned Avery off.
So when Avery woke up in the middle of the night to see that Federico had crept into his room, he was both scared and annoyed. What did Federico want with him? Light from the hall flooded the room while the door was open, but that lasted only a moment before Federico pulled it shut.
Avery was groggy at first, and he didn’t fight back when Federico told him to move over. Avery made room on the bed. The smell of Federico’s exotic cologne filled the room, while under it was a note of body musk and stale sweat. Federico must have worked out this evening. The other guys on this floor — their floormates — complained that Federico always smelled like a barrel of armpits. Avery agreed with that conclusion, but he didn’t complain. He liked the smell, but he didn’t tell anyone that.
Then Federico lay down in the narrow dorm bed alongside Avery, who gasped in shock at the realization that Federico was naked. His hairy body slid under the covers, pushing Avery against the wall. Federico was much bigger than Avery so he took up most of the bedspace.
“Hello, good night, eh, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His smooth, silken accent was deep and booming, echoing in the dorm room and in Avery’s ears. It made Avery shudder as a torrent of emotions washed over him. He couldn’t believe Federico wanted to share a bed with him. Was this normal in Italy?
“Federico, what are you doing?!” I-” Avery exclaimed, stopping only when Federico kissed him right on the lips.
Every part of Avery’s mind told him to continue, to kiss Federico on the lips and make out with him all night. But a part of Avery also wanted to tell him to leave, to remind him that he was a dickhead and that Avery wanted nothing to do with him.
Yet Avery didn’t do that. He stayed right where he was. For some reason as soon as he felt Federico’s broad, strapping chest muscles and his strong tongue pushing into Avery’s mouth, Avery didn’t want to fight him, nor did he want to fight against this experience. He just wanted to kiss Federico until there was no more kissing left to be had.
Avery’s petite fingers grabbed at Federico’s toned chest, while their tongues interlocked in Avery’s mouth. This was all happening so fast, Avery was left reeling, dizzy and full of surging desire.
There was something intense and arousing about kissing Federico on his soft lips. He was powerful and dominant, his corded muscle chest writhing atop Avery’s body. Avery’s skin wasn’t perfectly smooth, but compared to the dense layer of fur atop Federico’s chest, Avery seemed as smooth as a porcelain doll.
“No girls aredhere, eh,” Federico said. He hung his head sadly. “I went for a walk, eh, none of girls, eh.”
“Yeah. The campus is shut down, Federico. We’re not even really supposed to be here,” Avery said. That was true. They had to get special permission to stay here after the campus closed for the vacation. Federico couldn’t go back to Italy for just one week, and Avery had told the college he had no family to go home to (not technically true, but Avery didn’t want to go home). The GHU administration pushed him very hard to find a friend or family to stay with for the night, but Avery had refused — he paid top dollar for this dorm, and he wanted to use it.
“Federico…”
His hands moved of their own accord, gripping Federico’s back. He was a very hairy man, especially for someone so young, but his back was smooth and unblemished, a milky brown color, though in the dark, Avery couldn’t see anything except for Federico’s shadowy face. He had a dense beard which scratched at Avery’s scruffy face as they kissed.
Avery understood now why women liked Federico so much. The other guys on this floor often joked about that — to them, Federico was weird, almost effeminate yet offensively macho, hard to understand, both a prettyboy and a stinky alpha, and he had nice hair. His hair put theirs to shame.
But now, in this dorm room at night, Avery squirmed under Federico’s warm body and he let out little gasps that were swallowed up by Federico’s kisses, and Avery understood what women found alluring about him. He moved with such passion, his lips and his hands exploring Avery’s body and appreciating every inch of him, while Federico’s own body was toned and muscular, firm to the touch yet soft and pliable, exuding waves of warmth that Avery ensconced himself within.
He wished the dorm room was cold, so he could cuddle up with Federico like a loyal dog.
“Sssh…” Federico said. “You do not need to be embarrassed, it is okay-uh.” He reached behind himself, where he wrapped his fingers around Avery’s cock — he had to stick his hand under Avery’s boxer shorts. He gave it a stroke. Just one stroke, but somehow it was enough. It sent a little electric tingling sensation up Avery’s body.
Avery was too nervous to get hard. Federico just kept stroking. It was only when Avery’s hands roamed from Federico’s rippling back to his furry chest that Avery felt a surge of energy in his cock. It got hard and jabbed straight up in the air, throbbing beneath Federico’s touch.
“Good. You are a real man, eh, do not be embarrass-uh,” Federico said. He mounted Avery’s chest, the thick nest of hair around his balls and cock dragging along Avery’s smooth skin.
Avery realized with a nervous, anticipatory giggle that Federico intended for Avery to swallow his cock. He stroked Avery’s dick as he brought his own cock up to Avery’s mouth. Its silhouette loomed in the dark in front of Avery’s face.
“What, uh… what are you doing?”
“I am to be putting my penis into your mouth,” he said, cocking his head to the side and frowning as though Avery should have known that. He aimed his rock-hard, uncut cock towards Avery’s mouth, and the tip touched his lip. That was enough to taste the musty warmth of his manhood, and Avery chased the tip with his tongue. Federico kept his dick away. “Do not be embarrass. I will not tell anyone, eh, it is low to down.”
“You mean downlow?”
“Yes! Downlow. Dat is correct and factual,” Federico said. He beamed like he was a detective who had just solved a case. He finally let Avery put his mouth on his cock, but just barely, Federico keep it far enough away that Avery got only a teasing taste of the tip. Federico moaned like he was in pleasure even though Avery was only barely touching him. “I am bigger, eh, so you will be a passivo on me. You have nice big mouf, and no beard to touch me in the penis or dick, eh, si, I do not like beard hair.”
“Uh… are you going to get me off too?”
Federico paused. “No. I am bigger-uh dan you. Bigger men do not do so in Italy. I am only to top, eh, it is your position to do it wit’ your mouf-uh. You will lick my dick now, eh, si?”
Avery opened his mouth. Federico took Avery’s open mouth as an agreement and aimed his cocktip right for his wiggling tongue and his tight throat. Avery couldn’t deny that he was eager now to swallow Federico’s girthy Italian cock.
He was disappointed this wasn’t going to be reciprocated though. He thought that was what “downlow” meant. Maybe not. In any case, Federico didn’t even know that word, much less abide by it.
Regardless, Avery was eager to taste that cock, to swallow it as deep as he could and worship it until he tasted Federico’s creamy seed. Avery let his mouth fill with Federico’s dick.
It was only half-hard, but it was very big so it felt hard right away. Then it got harder and harder as Avery choked on its massive, salty head. It tasted both good and bad, but Avery was focused on the savory flavor and the sensation of desire that erupted in him now that he was tasting cock. It tasted clean and fleshy and it pulsated like an alien creature in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled on the moisture that leaked out of the tip. That foreskin felt like so much extra flesh Avery wondered if it was normal — he hadn’t been with very many uncircumcised men before.
“Yes, you are good, Aver-uh. Very good-uh. I am approving,” Federico said with a groan and a moan, his whole body rippling above Avery.
As Avery licked, Federico continued to jack Avery off, reaching behind himself to do so. He didn’t stroke it so much as hold on and let Avery move his hips, so Avery humped his hand while Federico acted like he didn’t even notice what was happening behind him. Federico’s attention was aimed squarely at his crotch, where his cock disappeared down Avery’s throat. He moaned and crooned like he was trying to seduce Avery, who vacillated between finding the sounds disgusting and alarming and finding them arousing and charming. He rubbed Avery’s face with his thumb and stroked his lips, gently but firmly pushing Avery’s mouth open as wide as it could go.
Then the hand jacking Avery off roamed down to his balls. Federico played with them very briefly before rubbing the taint between Avery’s balls and his ass. Avery’s flesh was very sensitive there, and the touch made Avery shudder with desire. His finger moved lower and lower, closer to Avery’s ass.
“You are nice with the mouth,” Federico said. His accent was thicker now that he was aroused, and his cock pulsated in Avery’s throat. Drops of precum hit his tongue, flooding his senses with the intense saltiness and savory flavor of his manhood. Avery’s hands roamed up his chest and tweaked his nipples, which made his pecs ripple each time he did it. Then Avery’s hands moved around Federico’s chest to his back and his smooth ass, firm like a pair of overinflated soccer balls.
Before Avery could do anything else, Federico’s finger pushed into his ass, pushing past Avery’s resistance, making Avery’s whole body tense up. The finger entering him sent a shiver of pain up Avery’s spine, but also a shudder of intense pleasure. He lifted his legs up — again his body acted on instinct even as his mind told him not to — and spread his own asscheeks to give Federico better access to it.
Then Federico pulled his cock away from Avery’s mouth. Thick gobs of saliva connected his lips to Federico’s shaft, until Avery’s hand tentatively stroked that massive meat. He had never felt anything like it, he thought, hot and spasming beneath his fingers, precum dripping in milky rivulets down the shaft, coating his foreskin and Avery’s fingertips. Avery groaned and Federico moaned.
“You are good at being girl-boy,” Federico said. “And you have nice girl-ass. It is… culo grassoccio.” For some reason when he said culo grassoccio, it made Avery grunt and blush, swooning with desire. Italian, he thought, was such a sexy language. Avery didn’t know what Federico said, but it turned him on.
Avery gave up on getting Federico to reciprocate. He decided to just go with the flow. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so willing to let Federico slam him, but he was — he wanted it more than anything. Federico’s obnoxious personality had faded into the background of his mind. He wanted nothing more than to feel Federico’s cock invade his ass.
“I will do putting in your ass,” Federico said softly. Though his tone was low, his words were loud and expressive, and they hung in the air, resonating in Avery’s ears.
As Avery rolled over onto his belly and stuck his ass in the air, Federico pulled out a tube of lube he had snuck over, Avery recalled Federico’s stunning success with girls. He seemed to be able to seduce any woman, from mousy shy nerds to outgoing cheerleaders, he got them all. It annoyed their other floormates because, to them, Federico was an annoying weirdo who didn’t do anything right. Somehow the girls loved him for it.
Federico was handsome, and American women loved Italian men. But Federico was more than just charming, he was a sexy beast who oozed charisma in his broken English. There was something special there, that was why he was good with girls. He had deep dark eyes that drilled into the soul of whoever he spoke to, and Avery found it hard to look away from him. His voice simmered like a slow soup.
And now he had even seduced Avery, who blushed like a tomato as he lowered his head to the pillow. Federico gently guided Avery’s hips up in the air, so Federico could kneel on his knees while Avery’s ass lined up with with his cock.
“Here I am, entering you now,” Federico whispered, his words echoing in Avery’s ear.
A jolt of pain hit Avery’s backside, but it lasted only a moment before a slow, melting sense of pleasure erupted deep within him. It was so potent that it felt faint, too powerful to be palpable at first, growing slowly over time. But Avery could sense how incredible it would be. If he gave it time to blossom, he thought, it would overwhelm anything.
“Va bene. Va bene, it is good,” Federico said. Avery didn’t know what that meant, but he got the impression it was supposed to be soothing. Avery’s whole body swooned in Federico’s arm as passion enveloped them both. Federico moaned into Avery’s ear, and both men rocked back and forth. Federico’s cock pulsated deep in Avery’s ass.
He was surprised at how little it hurt once Federico got started. He kissed the back of Avery’s neck and rubbed his shoulders as his cock slipped in, centimeter by centimeter.
The pain was still there. It didn’t go away, and it even grew. But it was increasingly overpowered by the intense, throbbing pleasure that made Avery writhe in exquisite agony. Federico pumped his hips more and more powerfully with every passing second, thrusting back and forth up Avery’s behind. Each thrust sent Avery to a new height of pleasure, and Avery couldn’t help but moan out loud.
He had to remind himself he could be as loud as he wanted to be — him and Federico were the only two people on this floor, or even in all of Mannheim House. Avery let his moans of desire grow louder, turning into demands for Federico to ram harder and harder. Federico probably didn’t notice what Avery was saying, as his English seemed to get worse when he was horny.
When Federico leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Avery’s chest, Avery moaned. They kissed there, and for Avery, it could have lasted a lifetime. He had never experienced a kiss like that. With his asshole stretching to accept Federico’s Italian cockmeat, Avery experienced an intense connection between them. He could feel every inch of Federico’s muscle and his powerful cock sliding into him, his bulging muscles and the clean sweat that dappled his skin now.
“You have-uh de beaut-iful-uh bottom, Aver-h…” Federico murmured. The way he said Avery made Avery giggle: vrwaowbbuh. “I will make you feel such pleasure. You will explode onto my hand.”
At last Federico’s hand explored downward. He tweaked each of Avery’s nipples in turn, sending little sparks of bliss through Avery’s body. Avery’s skin puckered, and he gasped when he realized where Federico was going.
Federico’s hand grabbed Avery’s cock. He groaned as though touching Avery’s dick was almost enough to send him over the edge. Avery moaned for the same reason. Avery’s shaft throbbed and spasmed, leaking precum into Federico’s grip.
Again Avery had no idea how long it lasted. His orgasm began from the moment Federico touched his dick. It continued forever, and Avery squirmed within Federico’s grasp. The more he wiggled, the more Federico’s cock moved inside Avery, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, and the more Federico’s breathing sped up as he experienced his own intense orgasmic pleasure.
Avery thought that was it. He didn’t think he could take any more; he didn’t think it was possible to feel more or experience any more intensity shaking his body.
But Federico, it seemed, had other plans. Federico could take Avery to the next level.
And as he began pounding hard onto Avery’s ass, that was exactly what happened. The sensation was so intense that Avery screamed, in shock and pain and bliss and desire and pure, unadulterated lust. He screamed because there was no one on this floor to hear him anyway, so why not?
His muscles turned to jelly. They were weak and insubstantial compared to Federico’s body anyway. Avery just submitted. He would have collapsed onto the mattress but Federico kept him in position, bent over a pillow with his ass in the air.
The prostate orgasm was so intense that Avery couldn’t even feel Federico’s hand on his cock. He was numb all over, and the only feelings he experienced were the muscle-clenching power of his climax.
“Ah, si…” Federico’s moan made the hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stand up.
Cum sprayed into the pillow and mattress beneath him, as Avery came first. He bucked his hips, slamming his ass backwards deep onto Federico’s cock as his thick cumwad hit Federico’s fingers. That didn’t slow Federico down at all, and he cooed like he loved the feeling of semen dripping through his fingers.
As though he had been waiting for Avery to bust first — which was, in fact, precisely what he had done — Federico began pounding harder and faster now that Avery was done. He drew his dick up all the way out of Avery’s ass, then slammed his rod back in all at once.
After just a few more of those power-strokes, Federico began his own orgasm. Avery’s head was still groggy and dazed, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the feeling of white-hot cum spreading within him. It was warm and creamy and it seeped into every corner of Avery’s body.
It was an impossibly big load. Avery didn’t know a human male could shoot something so big, so much milky cum that it spread in gobs within him. It dripped down Avery’s thighs and clung to his fine blond hairs, while plastering Federico’s coarser black hairs to his skin.
“You are prestante…”
Then at last it was done. Federico slowly let his cock plop out of Avery’s ass, and when he did, Avery sighed loudly. He had never experienced an orgasm like that. The feeling of his asshole emptying was like scratching a painful itch that Avery didn’t even know he had had.
He collapsed into a moist, sweaty heap on the mattress. He was too tired to do anything but submit as Federico gently caressed his back muscles. Federico kissed him on the spine, his lips traveling down to Avery’s ass. He just kissed each asscheek one time.
“Tank you, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His velvety voice purred and made Avery desire him all over again.
But Federico just sunk onto the mattress. He wrapped his powerful body around Avery’s. He massaged Avery’s smooth skin and kissed him on the neck. His thick, luxuriant beard scratched at Avery’s face.
“You are very nice-uh,” Federico said. “I was enjoying to be jacking… off… Uh… I am apologizing-uh. I do not remember my English words right now, eh.”
“That’s okay,” Avery said softly. He hadn’t spoken since this started, and now he blushed. He buried his face in Federico’s biceps, blushing as though he wanted to hide even though they were alone in Avery’s dorm room (and alone on this floor, in this building and on this campus as well). Avery licked the clean sweat that stuck to Federico’s muscle.
“I am glad about no girl here tonight,” Federico said. He whispered directly in Avery’s ear, making him shudder as aftershocks of orgasm ran through Avery’s body. “You have nice butt, and your dick was feeling good in my hand, uh. Maybe we will do it again after you come back from spring break, eh, yes?”
“Yes,” Avery blurted out. “We will. We’ll do this again next semester, I’ll find you. Whenever. We’ll find a way. We’ll figure it out. We’re together a lot, so it can’t be that hard. We’re floormates, after all.”
“Indeed. We will find, eh, each odduh,” he said.

The Lifeguard

When Avery makes a delivery at a summer camp before it opens, he happens upon a hunky head lifeguard, who’s willing to give Avery a swing on his studly meat… with a little consideration. Avery is in for a wild ride!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was done with his delivery, and he took a walk down by the beach. He was still at Camp Mittihara. It was a Jewish girls’s sports camp, but it was only early June. Camp hadn’t opened yet, so there were no kids around.
It was peaceful. Avery loved camping, and he would have enjoyed it here when he was a kid. It looked to be a very crowded camp though. They had ordered a hundred camp stoves. That was not something a small establishment did. It would not be pleasant, he thought, when there were kids here. Teeming, screaming masses of early and pre-teens. Avery couldn’t handle that many girls.
It was on the shore of Lake Mittihara, nestled in the mountains. The trail to the waterfront was lush and verdant, and Avery felt like an explorer hacking the first trail through an untouched wilderness. Avery wished he could stay here all summer. It was a large rocky beach now — it looked like they trucked fresh sand in each summer. It was mostly eroded away at the moment, leaving just rock behind. It’d be painful to walk on that beach.
There was a man at the beach. He was a tall, blond-haired and broad-shouldered jock with glistening tanned skin. Square jaw, blue eyes, rugged chin and enough swagger to make him come across like a bit of a bully, an overgrown bully though, like one who had never grown up even as his body did.
The most interesting thing about him at this moment, however, was that he was getting naked. He dropped his shorts. He flashed a huge cock, which was much paler than the rest of his body — he must have tanned naked though, because his ass was nut-brown like the rest of him. He headed for the water.
He winced when he dipped his toe in. He gasped and stepped back. “Ah, damn, damn,” he muttered loud enough for Avery to hear. Then he said, “Aw, fuck it!”
He stormed into the water, his teeth chattering right away. He howled and yelped. The air was warm today, but not all that warm, and it had been raining recently. The summer hadn’t really yet begun. There was still snow on the ground in some places up high in the mountains, Avery thought, and it was all melting into this lake. The water must be freezing.
The man was only in for a few seconds. He ran back out heaving for air. He went straight for the lifeguard tower on the beach. His skin was red like a cooked lobster. He was gasping and shivering, and his hand struggled to grip the door of the lifeguard tower because it shook so much.
That was when he stopped. He saw Avery, who suspected that the blond man blushed — it was hard to tell because his cheeks were rosy red from the cold water.
“Oh, uh… Hi,” he said. A painfully potent shiver erupted on his body. He gasped again and again, and he tried to say something else but the cold water had sunk into his bones. He shivered and ran into the lifeguard tower. He pulled out a towel and wrapped himself in it.
“Are you okay?”
His teeth chattering, the lifeguard said, “Uh… y-y-yeah, it’s fine.”
Avery came forward and grabbed a second towel from inside the tower. He rubbed it over the lifeguard’s ropy-muscled legs to get some of the water clinging to his skin. The lifeguard nodded and blushed.
“Who’re you?” He asked with some difficulty.
“My name is Avery. I delivered a load of camp stoves and shit, to the Quartermaster up the hill,” Avery said. He blushed in front of the handsome lifeguard, whose powerful muscles rippled as he shivered.
“Oh. Okay.” He bit his lip. His pecs twitched, and he took a deep breath, trying to stop shivering. “I’m Hark. Cool. Sorry, you, uh… Thanks for helping.” One violent shiver ran through his body. “Sorry, the water was cold. Crazy cold. Mad cold, shit!”
“No problem, Hark. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He blushed even deeper red. He took a deep breath, having finally stopped shivering though he still looked cold. “It’s just a tradition. It’s like a rule. The Waterfront Director has to do a polar bear dive every summer. I’ll have to do it again later cuz my staff wasn’t here, they won’t believe I did it. They’ll dunk me if they think I’m lying.” He chuckled. “That’s what I did to my Waterfront Director a couple summers ago. I waited until it had rained all night, cuz the water’s always freezing when that happens. And I pushed him in before breakfast.” He blushed like he had thought that story would be more interesting than it was.
“You’ve worked here a long time?”
“Five summers,” he said. He sighed. “This is probably my last summer. I need money, real money, not the pennies they pay. It sucks. I gotta move on, grow up, be an adult, I guess.”
“Being an adult sucks.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“So, uh, Hark…” Avery giggled girlishly. “Hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, but, uh… do you want to make some money? I’ll give you a hundred bucks to cornhole me.” When Hark didn’t immediately respond, Avery said, “You know what cornholing is?”
“Yeah.” Hark still looked flummoxed. He looked at Avery like a math problem that didn’t add up.
“So, uh… how about it?”
There was another long pause. Then Hark croaked and ran a finger through his dense mop of blond hair. “You’ll pay me a hundred bucks? To do what?”
“Stick your dick in me. I wanna taste your dick, and I want you to stick me in the ass,” Avery said. “And cum. You have to cum in my ass.” He came closer and placed one finger on one of Hark’s taut pecs. He pulled a dollar bill out of his wallet and tucked it into the waist of Hark’s shorts. “Here. I’ll give you a dollar to let me touch your chest.”
“Uh…” Hark laughed and his face turned even redder than it had been when he got out of the water. His muscles rippled all over. “I, uh… I’m not… I’m not into that. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Oh.”
“I bet you get lots of girls.”
Hark laughed sheepishly. His laughter was a little louder than was appropriate. It sounded forced. “Uh… Yeah. I do okay.”
“Well, Hark, I get the feeling that you’re too nervous to say yes, but you want to do it. Is that right?” Avery tweaked his nipple again. There was lakewater clinging to his smooth flesh. Avery leaned in and licked it off, making Hark laugh again. The lingering lakewater was cold, and Hark’s skin was still pink from chill, but he was warming up rapidly. “Why don’t I get just started? This is your beach, so you can make me leave anytime. And if you want, you can tell people I ravished you, that you didn’t have a choice.”
He chuckled. He was much larger than Avery, so the idea that Avery might overpower him was ridiculous. Hark was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, all of it muscle. He had a perfect six-pack and bulging biceps. Hark frowned like he would never tell anyone that a man had “ravished” him. He flexed his biceps and licked his teeth. He looked around as though there was some chance someone would walk in on them.
“I won’t be telling people,” he said. He looked up the hill. “Did you see a dude up there? Real skinny, walks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Actually, walks like he is a stick up his own ass, his flesh is just a stick-covering.” He laughed.
“Yeah, I did see him.” Avery said as he dropped to his knees. “He signed for my delivery. Is he really the Camp Director? He looks like a disgraced prison guard. They shouldn’t let him near kids.”
“I know, he’s an absolute ass. He doesn’t think we should sing at the Waterfront because it might distract the lifeguards,” he said with a scoff. He threw his hands in the air. “Kids expect their swimming instructor to sing. It’s like, a rule. Let’s go in the tower. He might come down here anytime.”
He led Avery into the lifeguard tower — it was just a wooden structure maybe fifteen feet tall, like the chair a lifeguard might sit in at a pool but this was bigger and taller since there was an entire lake to watch over (with boaters). The base of it was hollow and used for storage, plus it was a place for the lifeguards to change their clothes. It was a tiny closet, barely big enough for one person. But it was currently empty since all of the equipment was still in storage, so there was ample area for Hark to stand. Avery didn’t mind being crammed in there close to his studly body. The smell of lakewater and sweat filled the air in the stultifying tower.
“I’m not touching your dick. Sorry if it that’s, y’know, not romantic or whatever,” Hark said. He laughed like he was sharing a big joke.
“I know. That’s fine.” Avery pulled down the towel Hark had been using to cover himself. Hark’s dick was not especially large at the moment, but Avery could tell that was only because of the cold water and the chilly morning air.
Hark’s whole body twitched when Avery touched his cock, which was freezing cold — that was one part of the body that hadn’t begun warming up yet. It seemed to even shrink more when Avery touched it. Maybe Hark realized that, because his cheeks turned bright red, or maybe that was the startling temperature difference making his skin flush, as the inside of this lifeguard tower was humid and hot like a mid-summer noon.
His cock poked limply in Avery’s hand. Avery didn’t mind it staying limp and even small for the moment, because it gave him a chance to handle it while sucking on Hark’s nipples and making his pecs flex and ripple. Avery’s mind was brought back to old episodes of Baywatch and the relentless stiffies that showed had given him.
Maybe Hark had similar thoughts, because as David Hasselhoff ran through Avery’s mind, Hark’s meat also throbbed and twitched, just like Avery’s was. Both shafts perked up. Avery’s raced right to full erection, while Hark’s was more of a slow and elegant firming up.
After only a minute or two, Hark’s cock perked up and became mighty indeed, more than ten inches long at least and thicker than Avery’s wrist. Avery smiled and kissed it on the tip. When he did, Hark bucked and winced like it hurt. He laughed too.
“Ah, man, this is crazy…” His cock twitched in Avery’s mouth. It was very cold, the lakewater having seeped into it. It was an odd sensation at first, tasting a freezing cold dick. But it soon warmed up in Avery’s mouth, and it stiffened into a nearly foot-long rod. Avery let his tongue lap at the whole length of it, which made Hark’s eyes open wide.
Hark groaned. He must have been the kind of person who dealt with anxiety by laughing, Avery decided, because he didn’t stop chuckling the entire time. His face was ruddy, eyes wild and flitting back and forth as though there might be people hiding somewhere in the tiny, empty lifeguard tower.
Even when his dick was rock-hard and sliding all the way down Avery’s throat, Hark still kept laughing. To a casual observer it might have sounded like this was all a prank and Hark was laughing because he had pulled one over on Avery. Avery thought it was cute — there was nothing more arousing than a handsome guy getting embarrassed.
He slathered spit up and down that veiny cockshaft. He coated its veiny surface with his saliva, making Hark gasp in between his laughs. He traveled down to the root and licked that sensitive underspot where his cock met his crotch. That must have felt good, because Avery could see the pleasure shimmy its way from Hark’s dickroot to his face, which screwed up as he let out a moan.
“Oh god, wow… Wow… I’m not gonna tell anyone about this,” Hark said. “No way. I can’t believe I’m doing this, no way can I tell anyone, man.”
“That’s fine-” Avery slapped his own face with Hark’s cock, which was rock-hard now.
“I just can’t.”
“That’s fine, Hark, I don’t want you to tell anyone. You’re the kind of person who shares every detail of his life, right? It’s okay to keep things secret by default. You don’t need to convince anyone,” Avery said. He licked Hark’s shaft from root to tip one more time. “Are you ready to get it in me?”
He looked terrified, and he even glanced towards the door like he was considering running away. He nodded though, and closed his eyes. “I’ve never, y’know… fucked a girl in the ass. Is it…? I mean, is it the same? Or whatever?”
“It’s exactly the same. Men and women have the same buttholes, Hark,” Avery said. “Sometimes men are hairier.” He turned around and bent over. He had a tube of lubricant in his pocket — he kept it with him for precisely these sorts of encounters — so he pulled it out and smeared some over his ass.
“Huh. I had no idea. The staff at Camp Markowa across the lake are all Jamaicans — and one Trinidadian dude who’s a total dickhead — and, uh, all of them have no hair on their chest. It’s weird-looking.”
“Yeah, Jamaicans sometimes have a little body hair, but not as much as white guys.”
“Oh. Wow, you learn something new every day. Hey, can I make fun of them for it?” he asked as he approached Avery’s backside. He flopped his dick against Avery’s smooth cheek, and he jumped back, laughing when he made contact. “Can I, uh… I dunno how, just like tell ’em they look like a black seal or something? Or a black otter? I don’t know, I can’t think of a good burn right now. Or would that be racist?”
“Uh… Well, I don’t know those guys. But you should probably find something else to tease them about. Jamaicans hate menstruation. Call them a maxi-pad or something,” he said. Avery teased Hark’s chest muscles with his tongue, which made Hark mutter and groan. Avery shifted his ass up and down, rubbing it against the underside of Hark’s throbbing cock.
“Oh okay, cool. I’ll fill their tower up with tampons, that’ll be funny.” He paused. “Shit, how expensive are tampons? What if the tampons spill in the water? Do they like… get really big? What if they fill the lake? No, they don’t get big when girls use them, right? They just soak it up?”
“Hark, stop talking and stick it in me. You’re distracting yourself,” Avery said. He giggled. Hark, it seemed, was a bit of a dumbass, which Avery thought was cute. “The amount I don’t know about tampons could — and does — fill a gynecology textbook. Just stick it in.”
“Oh. Okay. Cool. Cool. Okay. Cool. No problem. Sure,” Hark said. He ran a finger through his blond hair. He took a deep breath. His dick was still hard, throbbing at the entrance to Avery’s ass. “I’ll just do it. No thinking about it. Just do it.”
He pushed and Avery opened his ass wide to make it easy. There was a tingling sense of pain but it went away quickly as Avery adjusted. He moaned, the sound of which made Hark laugh again.
Now that Avery was bent over, he took up more space in the cramped tower. So he and Hark had to squeeze in. Hark had been trying to touch Avery as little as possible, but that was no longer an option because they were pushed into this tiny area. Avery grabbed the wall, and Hark’s hands fluttered in the air, unwilling to touch Avery any more than necessary.
At last Hark found purchase by grabbing the ceiling of the tower, and holding on tight like he was on a rocking ship. He gritted his teeth and plowed.
Another surge of pain hit Avery, but this one was overshadowed by pleasure because Hark’s cock hit his prostate. Avery moaned and grunted. He dug his nails into the splintery wood of the lifeguard tower. There were names and words painted onto it, Avery hadn’t noticed because most of them were faded. It looked like every year’s lifeguards painted their names somewhere, sometimes adding little pictures or funny slogans. The summer time forgot one of them said, it looked freshest, like it was from last year, and sure enough Kaith Harkness was the second name listed below the slogan.
“Hey! Hark!” A deep voice bellowed from outside the tower. “Hark! They’re delivering your motorboat in an hour! Hey Hark! Hark! You gotta be here…” the man’s voice trailed off when he didn’t see Hark.
“Shit, shush, shush,” Hark said. “That’s Matt, the Camp Director. Shush.” Though he desperately shushed Avery, Hark was the only one making noise. Avery was used to getting using his dick quietly. He cringed and winced, biting back his moans of pleasure. Hark hushed him over and over, even as he continued slowly grinding his dick in deeper and deeper. It didn’t seem that Hark was even aware he was still going, his hips gyrating out of pure instinct as he peered through the cracked door.
The Camp Director stalked onto the beach. He called out towards the lake. “Hey! Hark! You here?! Where’d he go?”
“Sssssh…” Hark said softly right into Avery ear. They were both on the ground now, Hark swaying his hips side to side as his muscles flexed against Avery’s smooth back. Sand scratched at Avery’s belly and chest.
The Camp Director sighed and turned around. “Not here.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Hark! Hark! You get back here! If they drop off this motorboat and you’re not here to… I dunno, do whatever you do with motorboats, I swear to God, I will fire you in a heartbeat.” His voice trailed off as he walked away.
When he was finally gone, Hark laughed right into the back of Avery’s head. “What does he think I need to do with the motorboat? It’s just a boat. It goes in the water and sits there. If it’s broken, I’ll call a mechanic. I certainly don’t know how to fix it. The only thing to do is watch them put it in the water.”
“Uh-huh.” Avery was too close to orgasm to think of anything to say.
“Or is there something else? I’ve never been Waterfront Director before. Do you know how to use a motorboat? Am I supposed to, like… change the oil or something before it goes in the water? Do motorboats use engine oil?”
“Hark… Hark, I’m paying you to put it in me. You have to pay attention to that,” Avery said. He gasped. Despite — or maybe because of — Hark’s distraction, Avery endured a potent orgasm. Waves of pleasure flowed through his veins, and Avery’s whole body shook in Hark’s arms.
“Sorry.” He bit his lip. “Are you… cumming right now? Shit…”
A huge load sprayed right onto the cement floor of the lifeguard tower. It was thick and creamy, and the salty-sweet scent filled the air. Hark wrinkled his nose and paused before he continued. He looked surprised, like he was shocked Avery actually enjoyed getting it in the butt.
“I kind of forgot you were paying me,” he said with a laugh. He again sounded distracted. “I’m going to take my whole staff out to dinner before the kids show up, that’s what I’ll spend that money on. Tommy did that two summers ago. It’s classy, don’t you think? I should buy beer too. They’re mostly not old enough to drink at a restaurant, so we’ll have to drink here-“
“Hark? Shut up.” Avery was breathless and overwhelmed by the feelings pumping through his veins.
“Oh. Sorry,” he said. He gyrated his hips, slamming his dick in with one long smooth motion. He grunted. “A lot of girls complain I talk too much during sex. I don’t mean to. I think I just like to distract myself, like I — Nevermind, sorry.”
“You do talk too much.”
Hark gritted his teeth as aftershocks of his own orgasm wracked his body. The talking didn’t end up slowing Hark down. He moaned and bucked, shoulders tensing as he reached his own orgasm. He wrapped one muscular arm around Avery’s neck, holding him tight. Avery breathed deeply of the lakewater and sweat that clung to his flesh.
Cum flew into Avery’s backside, a great long flow of creamy juices that filled him up. The emanating heat made Avery moan again, and it reawakened his orgasm. He clawed at the ground and licked Hark’s muscular bicep. As the pleasure wracking his body grew more intense, Avery grunted and nibbled on his tender skin until Hark pulled his arm away.
At last it was over. Avery fell limp, giggling as Hark was finally serious for a moment. Hark had a pinched, solemn expression on his face. He sighed. His cheeks were bright red. He looked relieved, like he had been worried he wouldn’t be able to cum at all.
“Ah, shit… Okay… Well, that wasn’t so bad,” he said. He shrugged. “Okay. Not bad. Okay.” He paused. His eyes bugged out — he had only just now realized that he had no way of forcing Avery to pay. “You better pay me, man. I’ll… I’ll call the cops! I mean, I can’t tell them what, but, you know… I’ll tell them something, I’ll tell them you cheated me.”
“Don’t worry, Hark, I’ll pay,” Avery said. He stood and stretched his legs. He pulled out his wallet and counted out money. Hark watched, then grabbed an old ratty t-shirt that looked to have been sitting on a shelf all winter. He wiped his cock off.
Avery handed him the money and he took it just as the sound of an idling truck filled the air. Hark peeked out and gasped. “Shit, the motorboat. You gotta wait in here. No, wait, whatever, they don’t know who you are. You’re a delivery guy. You’re allowed to be here. No, wait, you can’t be in here, I can’t explain why you’re in the lifeguard tower. Wait here.” He paced in the tiny space, his limp cock flopping between his legs.
“Okay.” Avery didn’t want to go anywhere yet anyway. He was basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.
“Alright. I’ll be fine. They don’t know what happened,” he said. He walked out the tower door. Avery saw him go in slow motion, so he didn’t remind Hark to put his clothes on — he assumed Hark was going to put his shorts on before he stepped outside, but he didn’t. Hark was so distracted and stressed that he forgot he was naked.
He walked right out onto the beach and said, “Okay, hey guys, thanks for bringing the motorboat. Let’s put it in the water right over there. Is the gas tank full?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the truck’s engine.
Deep-voiced laughter filled the air. There were hoots, hollering — it sounded like a strip club out there. The two men in the truck laughed so hard they cried and slapped their knees. Hark blushed a deep red, but he felt compelled to go with it. He pretended he was naked deliberately.
“What? You guys scared of a real man’s cock?” Hark said with a proud laugh. “Hey, shut up. Fuck you guys, come on. This is, uh… A tradition. The Waterfront Director always has to be naked on his first day, when no one else is there. That’s all. It’s just tradition. A lifeguard tradition.”

Jocks in the Dark

Charlie and his football team threw a college party that was a bust, but it ends with Charlie playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with the stud of his dreams… and he follows it up with a nighttime sneaky bed-share that will rock his world!

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Read the whole thing here!

Charlie was disappointed when he got to the Halloween party. There weren’t many partygoers, just a bunch of jocks hanging out by themselves. Charlie went right to the two women, Claire and Lisa Anne, the only two who had shown up. That’s why the party was a failure: not enough women. The men had no reason to do more than sit around drinking beer and burping, because there were no women to impress or flirt with or annoy. Charlie spent most of his time at these sorts of college parties dancing with his female friends, while the other men dared each other to go talk to the girls. But there were only two women tonight.
It was while he danced with Claire and Lisa Anne that they were approached by one of the other football jocks, with an invitation to play a game.
“It’ll be a lot of fun,” said Jimmy, a tall, blond quarterback with a beery grin and broad shoulders. He was the most outgoing and popular person among the Kappas, so he was de facto in charge, or so it always seemed to Charlie — he was the team captain on the football team anyway, where Charlie was a tight end. The girls fawned over Jimmy, as they always did. He wore a toga as his Halloween costume, no doubt because it allowed him to bare his broad chest and bulging biceps. “C’mon, you’ll like it, girls,” he said pointedly, as though rather hoping Charlie wouldn’t play but unwilling to say so out loud. “Girls always like it, it’s — it’s silly, it’s just an immature little nothing… It doesn’t matter.” He blushed ran his fingers through his hair. “But you should play. The girls, you two, I mean, Claire and Lisa Anne. You’ll like it.”
“I’m in,” Charlie said, knowing perfectly well Jimmy didn’t want him to join in. Charlie wasn’t surprised by that. Jimmy only wanted the girls.
Charlie ignored his reticence, and he, with Claire and Lisa Anne, formed a small circle with a few other Kappa guys in the living room. It seemed they were about to start a game, and he wanted to be involved. The girls blushed — they had a crush on Jimmy, so they were willing to join in on whatever game he had proposed (Truth Or Dare? Spin the Bottle? Something like that, Charlie suspected). They were drunk enough to have few inhibitions.
This was at least livening up the party a little. Charlie was glad to see people laughing, instead of looking dejectedly into their beers. They all spread out in a circle in the living room, and Charlie sat next to one of his fellow football players with broad muscles and a musky smell coming from his unwashed armpits. He smelled like a jockstrap, Charlie thought. Claire and Lisa Anne had whispered something similar a few minutes ago, but they meant it as a bad thing. Charlie inhaled deeply of the scent, and he held it as long as he could.
“Seven Minutes in Heaven! Seven Minutes in Heaven! Seven Minutes in Heaven!” the jocks chanted as everyone got in a circle.
“Oh yeah-“
“Hope I get you, baby…”
“Hmm, girl, you look good enough to eat!”
Claire giggled and whispered in Lisa Anne’s ear, and whatever she said made Lisa Anne giggle as well. Claire said, “Okay, we’ll play.”
“Yeah,” Lisa Anne said, her face bright red and laughing. “You gotta go in with whoever you end up with, and that’s it. No switching or refusing after we start.”
Claire hugged Lisa Anne and kissed her on the neck, making all of the boys open their eyes wide and gawk. They giggled. “Yeah, we’ll totally do it with each other if that’s what the game says. You boys have to do the same thing though. You just might have to get each other off.”
“Hmm, hopefully…”
“That’d be so cool!”
“It’s such a turn-on!” Claire and Lisa Anne were laying it on thick, hands clutching each other. The young men who filled up the party watched with wide eyes, and they all nodded their agreement even though not a single one paid attention what they said.
With the exception of Charlie. He did listen, and he was eager to get started.
The odds were good, nearly a guarantee, that Charlie would be paired up with one of his teammates, who filled up the game. He played it nonchalant though, looking as reluctant as the others, though Charlie didn’t understand what they were reluctant about.
“So we’ll have to get each other off…”
“Man, shit, they’re gonna do girl-girl stuff!”
“They’re gonna be in a closet with the door closed…”
“So?! We can hear, dude. We’ll hear them!”
Now it was Jimmy’s turn to blush and hesitate. He ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. He looked over to his other teammates, who exchanged nervous glances. No one appeared ready to say no, however. With only two women at the party, they all were willing to do anything Claire and Lisa Anne wanted to do.
“Fine…” Jimmy said finally. He tried to make it sound like he was really fine with this, but it was apparent that it made him nervous — but there was really only a small chance that he would end up with a man. It looked like he was annoyed at having to do all this just to hook up with two girls, but he wasn’t about to fail to hook up with them. His masculine image virtually required him to
The Kappa house often settled disputes by drawing straws, so they did that again to decide who was with whom for this game: Seven Minutes in Heaven. One of the other frat brothers pulled them out, and they each took one — there were four males here and only two females, so it was apparent that (at least) two men would wind up with each other.
Jimmy prayed it would be him as he drew a long straw. He was desperate to match up with Lisa Anne. Or Claire, Jimmy didn’t care. He would give either girl seven minutes in heaven.
Claire revealed her straw first. It was short, and it matched up with Tuck, who grinned like a cocky bastard as he nodded towards the hallway closet. Him and Claire headed in that direction. Then Lisa Anne showed off her straw, a medium-length one that matched up with George’s.
That was it. That was the two girls taken. The remaining players avoided making eye contact with each other.
Charlie’s heart sped up as he looked up at Jimmy, the both of them realizing at the same time that their straws matched. The girls giggled and blushed, fawning over Jimmy, whose broad muscles twitched nervously. They laughed at his blatant anxiety, while he himself cursed his luck for not getting either of the girls. Jimmy looked more angry than disappointed. He wasn’t often told no, and he crackled with energy as though about to punch the girls for having failed to draw his straw.
The three pairs split off. Lisa Anne and George went into the pantry — which held nothing but beer — leaving the utility closet for Charlie and Jimmy. They stopped outside the door.
“We don’t have to go in there,” Charlie said. “No one will see if you don’t want to do it.”
The door at the other end of the hall opened. Claire stuck her head out. “I heard that! You agreed to play this game, bastards! You better do it!” She giggled along with herself, and in the pantry Lisa Anne giggled as well. She shouted something that was too muffled to be heard, but Charlie got the gist of it: she was demanding that Charlie and Jimmy play the game.
Jimmy opened the door and went in. Charlie followed nervously. “Seven minutes, huh?” Charlie said as he followed Jimmy in. The utility closet smelled of cleaning supplies, which were overpowering now that the door was shut. It was pitch-black in here too, so all Charlie could sense was the smell of detergent.
Then Jimmy flicked the light on. It was just a bare bulb, and it blinded Charlie at first, but then bathed the closet in warm light. Charlie was intimately aware of how close he was to Jimmy, whose football player body bulged from the Roman toga he wore. All Charlie could think about was that his hand was about an inch from Jimmy’s cock, with only a sheet separating them (Jimmy had made a big deal about not wearing any underwear under his toga).
“We don’t have to do anything,” Charlie said softly. He felt small and weak next to Jimmy, who grunted his acknowledgement. His heart fluttered. Despite his words, he hoped desperately that Jimmy would go through with it.
“That’s right,” Jimmy said. His voice was low and gruff, as though he didn’t want to be heard. His breath condensed on Charlie’s cheek. One of his hands gripped Charlie’s shoulder firmly. His hand slowly moved down Charlie’s body, then moved to his arm and finally his hand.
Charlie wished he had started drinking before this. Charlie was suddenly very nervous. Why had Jimmy come in here and now was seemingly trying to touch Charlie?
Was he trying to hold hands? Charlie was astonished to feel Jimmy’s thick fingers grab his hand. That was about the last thing Charlie expected. Jimmy didn’t seem to have any inhibitions in here.
“We’ll just wait seven minutes,” Jimmy said. He whispered, but his voice still boomed in the tiny room. He arranged Charlie’s fingers to form a tube of sorts. “We won’t do anything. Nothing… You know, nothing that counts…”
Charlie realized what was happening only about a half a second before something warm and fleshy hit his hand. It was Jimmy’s cock. It was soft and thick, and it jerked as soon as Charlie touched it. Jimmy dragged Charlie’s hand to his crotch, and Charlie sucked in his breath.
“Jimmy, I thought you-?”
“Sssh, I ain’t gonna do nothin’, man,” Jimmy said, murmuring softly like he couldn’t admit even to himself what was happening. “Just hold ya hands still. Hand stuff isn’t, y’know… anything.” He used both of his hands to keep Charlie’s wrist and fingers still, and he began slowly humping his body back and forth. His dick slid limply through Charlie’s fingers.
He had such a huge cock. More than a foot long and thicker than any Charlie had seen. He’d spied Jimmy’s manhood in the shower, but it wasn’t erect then, and Jimmy kept it covered enough that Charlie caught only brief glimpses of it. Now, of course, he couldn’t see it at all, because the utility closet was dark as night, but it throbbed in his hand, which moved of its own accord up and down Jimmy’s shaft.
Charlie’s heart thumped. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It felt so wrong, but at the same time, right — that was the point of this game, after all. Whatever they did here in the closet wouldn’t count, and they weren’t allowed to tell anyone about it later. Once the seven minutes were up, it was supposed to be as though it had never happened.
It was just jacking off anyway. Jacking off with the handsome quarterback with dimples and broad shoulders… the brash blond god who had been haunting Charlie’s dreams since the beginning of his freshman year.
“Uh, yeah…” Jimmy said slowly. His mouth was so close to Charlie’s ears now that the sound of Jimmy’s moan made him shudder. His breath condensed on Charlie’s head, which made Charlie speed up his breathing. Jimmy was very nearly kissing him, and the aroma of his hot breath hit Charlie’s nose.
Then Jimmy’s knees buckled and went weak. He grunted. His muscular body nearly fell, and Charlie instinctively reached out for him. His free hand grabbed Jimmy’s meaty frame through the toga. Though he wasn’t strong enough to provide much support, he did grip Jimmy’s chest and try to hold him up. Jimmy just leaned against the hot water heater, however. His pecs trembled beneath the robe of his toga.
His dick pulsated and throbbed in Charlie’s hands. Charlie heard a frenzy of female giggling from the pantry, which reminded him that the others were playing this game too. It sounded like the girls were having a great time with their men. Charlie wondered if they were having sex. It sounded like it. They were at least getting to second base.
“Hey, Jimmy, why don’t you jack me off too?” Charlie said. He lowered his voice partway through because his words seemed impossibly loud, like he was shouting. “We could circlejerk…” It was apparent that Jimmy wasn’t listening. He would never have thought Jimmy would agree, but then, he had never thought Jimmy would let Charlie jack him off either, so it seemed Charlie’s preconceptions weren’t quite right.
Jimmy groaned and grunted. He bucked his hips, closing his eyes. His muscles all relaxed at once beneath Jimmy’s fingers. Then he laughed nervously. “No way. Gross, dude.” His voice was tensed and clipped despite his laughter.
Then the first drops of sticky precum hit Charlie’s hand, and he moaned. He tried to pull his hand away, but Jimmy held it in place with one hand on his wrist. Charlie grumbled. “C’mon, man, I’m jackin’ you off, you should get me off too-“
“No way, I’m the team captain. I don’t need to do that shit,” Jimmy said. That was sort of true. Jimmy was team captain, which meant he was in charge. But Coach Marshall had made it clear that part of leadership was doing the difficult stuff. He made Jimmy come to all practices and workouts, for example, even the ones that didn’t involve quarterbacks. Jimmy even scheduled field maintenance, handled the scoreboard and hired the announcers for the games.
Jimmy’s whole body shook, his muscles flexing and rippling. He trembled. His dick throbbed, and Charlie felt Jimmy’s balls crawling up in his sac.
The most arousing thing about the orgasm, Charlie thought, was the sounds Jimmy made. It wasn’t clean moaning like in a porn. It was moist, chewing-like sound, almost choking at one point, and Charlie could hear his phlegmy snorting as he shot his load.
But then he decided what was really the most arousing thing about this — Jimmy shot his load right onto Charlie’s thigh. It was sticky, creamy and hot, and he shot so much Charlie wondered if it was some kind of trick. It dripped into the black slacks he had worn as part of his vampire costume, and it soaked into the fabric. It dripped down his legs.
“Whoah,” Jimmy said with a sigh. He smiled like a cocky bastard, kissed Charlie on the cheek, then humped his dick on Charlie’s thigh. “Thanks, man,” he said, as a few final spurts of jizz jetted all the way up Charlie’s side. Cum coated his ribs, running from his armpit to his hips, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief that turned into a moan of desire. His own hands were all over Jimmy’s powerful torso, making his pecs bounce and twitch.
The buzzer went off. That was it. Seven minutes were up, and the game was over. Charlie was disappointed. That all happened so fast, and he hadn’t gotten to do everything he wanted to. He was annoyed that Jimmy didn’t reciprocate. Now Charlie had a hardon and no way to get rid of it.
The door to the utility closet opened, and Jimmy hurried out. He blushed and pumped his biceps as though victorious, though Charlie could hear him deny that anything had happened.
“Nah, I only got hard thinkin’ of you gals, I’m savin’ up to finish you off later,” Jimmy said, while Charlie dallied in the closet to to wipe the cum off his leg. He came out smiling a few minutes later. He was surprised that none of his teammates seemed to care about what had happened — they laughed at first, asking questions, teasing — but sooner or later, they were focused on the girls again. With only two girls at the party, they were the center of attention.
In the end, nobody got the girls. Lisa Anne and Claire hung out until nearly midnight, and then that was it. This desultory Halloween party was over.
So they all just went to bed a few minutes later, sharing the house’s unused beds. Charlie was sleepy, and there seemed little point to remaining awake at the party any longer. It was clear none of the straight guys were going to mess with him any more than Jimmy already had.
Once Charlie made it into his room and got ready for bed, he heard some of the guys come home from the party — they were excited, rambunctious, bragging about the blowjobs they had gotten. Charlie could hear Jimmy’s annoyed response to them, and it gave Charlie a measure of satisfaction to know that Jimmy had hadn’t had a good night either. Jimmy had apparently hoped to get girls over here after the party.
He awoke sometime early in the morning. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to creep into his bedroom. He didn’t know why he had awoken at first, then realized someone was in his room.
“Who’s there?”
There was no answer, but there was a flurry of movement. Before Charlie realized what was happening, Jimmy was in bed with him. His heavy body took up most of the mattress. He stank of body odor and deodorant, a melange Charlie inhaled deeply of. Jimmy’s body was firm and yet soft at the same time, and the bed they now shared was so small that Charlie had little choice but to cuddle up close to his powerful temamate.
“Hey,” Jimmy whispered. “George puked in my bed.”
“Well, sleep on the couch-“
“It’s already taken,” Jimmy said. “Sssh, don’t worry, man. I won’t hurt you. I know you want me to cornhole you, shush… Right?”
“Jimmy…”
Jimmy wrapped one of his arms around Charlie as though hugging him close. Charlie’s head was ensconced in his big muscles and his hairy armpit, and his pecs rippled beneath Charlie’s touch. A surge of desire ran through Charlie, whose dick raced to full erection before he even touched it. Jimmy brought Charlie’s hand to his chest, and Charlie instinctively played with his nipples for a few seconds before pulling away in embarrassment. He rolled over to face away from Jimmy.
“Come on, lemme just put the tip in,” Jimmy said. He spooned Charlie, hugging him even closer and wedging his bare cock between Charlie’s asscheeks.
His dick was rock-hard, throbbing. He was already humping and kissing the back of Charlie’s neck. Jimmy must have been horny to begin with. Had he woken up from a sexual dream? Something like that must be it, Charlie thought.
“Oh god, Jimmy, are you serious?” Charlie asked in a desperate whisper. “Yes, please, yes! Put it in!” He had long wanted to be cornholed, to see what it would feel like. Ever since the first time he heard about it — in a rap song — before he even knew what it was. He knew ‘ramrodding’ was something interesting, and he’d looked it up right away.
Jimmy must have taken that as a yes, because he pushed his dick in. Blistering pain hit Charlie’s asshole. It felt like he was being split open, and he roared in agony. He bit a pillow to hide the sound, and his fingers clawed at the mattress beneath him. The pain soon gave way to a flood of pleasure though, which wracked Charlie’s body.
“Sssh, I’ll make it feel better,” Jimmy said. He reached for something and produced a bottle of lube he must have brought in here with him. He squeezed out a bit and spread it over the shaft of his throbbing meat, then rubbed it around the surface of Charlie’s ass.
“Here, I’ll get you off too,” Jimmy said. His rough, callused fingers roamed over Charlie’s body until reaching his cock. He held on there for a moment as though not sure what to do with it.
Then all at once, he both gave Charlie’s dick a stroke and pushed his well-lubed cock into Charlie’s ass. Both pleasure and pain shot up Charlie’s spine. He yelped and clawed at the air around him.
Since Jimmy was so much bigger, he took up a lot of space on the bed, and he didn’t make room for Charlie. So when Charlie flailed, he nearly fell off the edge. If it weren’t for Jimmy’s powerful arms holding him in place, Charlie would have fallen right onto the floor.
He gasped as his dick got hard. Charlie was astonished at how easy it was, and how little pain he was really feeling, considering that Jimmy plowed into him hard and aggressively. The pain was definitely there, it was just subdued, overwhelmed by the pleasure emanating from his cock and even a little bit of pre-orgasmic bliss that grew in waves coming from his asshole.
Precum dribbled from his dick. That stopped Jimmy for a few seconds, as he looked at his hands with disgust, like he had no idea how precum had ended up there. But then he resumed bear-hugging Charlie from behind, using one hand to stroke him off.
The meaty sound of Jimmy’s balls slapping against Charlie’s ass rang out in the small bedroom. Charlie wondered how loud that was, and if anyone else could hear. Luckily, he thought, the other seniors were all pretty drunk. They should all be passed out by now, he hoped. Nobody could be heard moving around in the hall.
“Make some sounds like a girl,” Jimmy said. Then he modeled it, giggling at himself as he let out a high-pitched laugh.
The sensation was entirely too intense for that, as Charlie couldn’t concentrate on anything but the spasms of pleasure exploding all over his body. Jimmy’s free hand roamed over Charlie’s chest as though imagining a bounteous bosom there.
Charlie was glad to realize he was going to cum first, hoping to embarrass Jimmy. Cum flew all over Charlie’s chest, which roiled and twisted as an orgasm washed through him. The movement caused pain to reawaken in his ass, and it was precisely that sudden tightness that made Jimmy blow his load as well.
Hot semen sprayed within Charlie, who cried out loud at the sensation as his own pleasurable orgasm pumped through his veins. He writhed in Jimmy’s biceps and shuddered as Jimmy kissed the back of his head. It was thick and creamy, and Charlie felt it flowing to every inch of his insides.
At last it was over. For a moment Jimmy lay there with his limp dick throbbing inside Charlie. Even though it wasn’t moving and was a bit smaller, it was more painful now that Charlie wasn’t distracted by his own imminent orgasm. He tried to pull away but couldn’t without falling off the bed, and in any case, even the slightest movement reawakened the sensations in his backside.
“Hey, Jimmy, move over, man,” Charlie said, worried that Jimmy would fall asleep with his cock in Charlie’s ass.
But Jimmy groggily responded. He scooted back, and at last his entire rod slipped out of Charlie’s ass. A sense of overwhelming relief hit Charlie, who rolled away from the edge of the bed.
“Jimmy…” Charlie pushed at the senior’s bulky body, but it was obvious Jimmy was asleep. He wasn’t going to move. He took up pretty much the entire bed, and Charlie would only be able to sleep here by remaining ensconced in Jimmy’s muscles. He found that he liked the feeling of warm muscles quivering around him as Jimmy slept. He curled up with Jimmy, smelling his masculine scent and basking in the heat of his body. A little moan escaped from Charlie’s throat, as his hands wrapped around Jimmy’s shoulders. “Thanks,” Charlie said. “You can come sleep with me anytime.”

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 Champion of Diversity

When Avery has to go in for a diversity class, he didn’t think he’d be sharing it with an alpha male soccer jock. But Pierce Rippence doesn’t understand the difference between a Christmas party and a holiday party, meaning he’s in the same diversity class as Avery, leading to a hardcore conclusion bursting with man-on-man diversity-respecting action!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery couldn’t decide if it was good or bad that he was the only person in the classroom. He had assumed there would be others. That was rather implied by the word “class”, after all. Otherwise, wasn’t it technically a “session”? That’s what he would have called it.
Regardless, Avery had to spend his whole Saturday learning about diversity in order to return to campus after Christmas break (or rather, “Winter Break”, as the school sternly insisted it was called). All this started because of a dumb joke he made about Puerto Rican men being argumentative.
At Goldendale Hills University, making a joke was a serious offense. Avery was hauled before a tribunal that cast judgement on him with all the fury of an angry cat lady, and he was sentenced to an entire Saturday of diversity training. An argumentative Puerto Rican might have felt stigmatized, the Vice-Dean of Student Inclusion and Indigenous Ways of Knowing had said, speaking so seriously that Avery had to hold back a laugh. Even now he giggled thinking about it.
In the classroom was just Avery and the instructor, a perky young chowder-white woman with a big smile and empty eyes. She kept staring at Avery as though he was a flower of infinite beauty unfolding with the wisdom of the ancients. Avery pretended not to notice. He wasn’t sure what facial expression he was supposed to use: chagrined, annoyed, bored, racist, ashamed, unrepentant? Nothing seemed quite right.
Finally she cleared her throat. “Okay, well, I guess you’re the only one this week. Welcome to Diversity Awareness, Acknowledgement of Harms in as to and regarding Inclusion, Surveying Inappopriate Attitudes and Combatting Social Ills, -Phobias and Intersectional Bigotries. Hot dog, that’s a mouthful!” she said that with the cadence of a joke and waited for laughter, seemingly unaware that her audience was only one or that that wasn’t a joke. Or was it? Then she laughed out loud, very loud, like she was competing with other laughers and needed to win. Avery looked around the classroom. No one was here. Had she made a joke? “My name is Margaret Sole, and today we’re going to explore what it means to be aware, diverse and inclusive. Just the two of us. That’s wonderful. That’ll really give us a chance to get into the nitty-gritty of it all.”
Avery nodded. Margaret looked at him like she was expecting a response, so he supported his head in his hands and said, “Hmm…”
“That’s right, thanks so much for that,” Margaret said. Again, her plastic cheer came across like it was aimed at some invisible supporter in the room. Avery looked around to see who she could be responding to. She didn’t have an earpiece in, and there was nobody Zooming in on a laptop or anything like that.
She cocked her head to the side. “And what’s your name?”
“Avery Flowers.”
“Avery, that’s fantastic, really it is, I love that name,” she said. She ticked a box on her clipboard with a flourish, like she really wanted someone to be impressed with the skill she used to tick off Avery’s attendance. “I love names, I really do.”
Who loves names?! Avery tried not to look disgusted at that. What does it even mean to love names?! How boring does someone have to be before that seems like a viable way to seem more interesting?
The door opened, and a frat boy walked in. He was short and athletic, and with a high-energy sort of machismo like he was making up for being short, and he must play some kind of running-based sport — maybe track and field — because his legs were like the legs of a racehorse stallion ten times his size, he could support a barge on those things. Despite that, he had the casual vibe of a hackeysack-enthused stoner, along with deep dimples and a smarmy grin. Avery instantly thought he was handsome, but he could tell that Margaret was turned off — he had that trying-too-hard charm that came from having always been the most popular, outgoing guy around. Avery wanted to taste his dick right away, while Margaret, he assumed, wanted to nothing more than to avoid getting hit on.
He was on the GHU soccer team, as it turned out. Avery didn’t follow soccer or he would have recognized him. He was well-known on campus and even off it.
That explained the calves too. The young man had legs like cannons.
“Yo, hey, ma’am, how you doin’?” He smacked his lips as though he might hit on Margaret. “I’m Pierce Rippence.” He flashed her a dimpled grin. “Hmmm… You’re a good teacher, miss, I can already tell.” He nodded hello at Avery and sat right next to him. He sat perfectly still, miming as an ‘attentive student’ for her benefit. He looked up at her with the rapturous eyes of a toddler watching his favorite teacher.
“Okay, well, thank you, Pierce,” the teacher said. “You missed my beginning spiel, it’s so important, so I’m going to go over it again.”
Avery didn’t understand that, because she hadn’t yet said any spiel or anything really. All she’d said was the name of the course and that she likes names.
But he didn’t want to say anything that might result in this class being any longer than it was, so he let Margaret repeat her “spiel”, which turned out to be the name of the class. She again said, “Hot dog, that’s a mouthful!” afterwards and again seemed to think that was a joke. She again waited for someone to respond as though it was a joke, then laughed like someone had done so. This time, Pierce looked around the room in search of someone who could explain what was amusing about all of this.
At least she didn’t re-explain that she liked names. Pierce remained forever ignorant of that fact about Margaret Sole.
Her “spiel” thankfully complete, Margaret began a whole new spiel. “Today we’re going to really come to understand what diversity and tolerance are. First off, can we talk a bit about what brought you both here to us today?”
Avery kind of zoned out then. He listened to Pierce’s explain his faux pas that led to this punishment — he had disobeyed the student government by promoting a campus party as a “Christmas party” instead of a “Winter Party”. Avery explained his dumb Puerto Rican joke, which didn’t even make sense out of context. Pierce didn’t respond, but about two minutes later he busted out laughing, turned around and said, “hey, I just got that, bro. Hilarious shit!”
The teacher frowned, her first unenthusiastic expression. “No, no, no, that was not ‘hilarious shit’. It was highly offensive to Puerto Ricans, especially those who are not argumentative. Personality traits are a highly racialized issue-“
“Uh, Miss? The Vice-Dean said it was offensive to argumentative Puerto Ricans. You say it’s offensive to non-argumentative Puerto Ricans,” Avery said.
“Yes, well…! Twice as bad then,” Margaret said.
Once the class got underway, Avery sat as quietly as possible, and he answered every question he could with whatever Margaret was looking for. While it was obvious Avery wasn’t taking this seriously, Pierce was luckily even more silly, so Avery seemed less problematic by comparison. He even filled out the “test” at the end with all of the blatantly correct answers. Pierce made a game of getting several wrong and making her explain obvious answers, like he insisted that Sri Lanka was a fictional place, like Xanadu or El Dorado, until she got out a map and showed him.
“It doesn’t sound like a real country,” Pierce said. “It sounds ridiculous. Sri Lanka.”
Avery tried very hard not to laugh. “I think I heard that too, Margaret. Like people used to think it was real-“
“It’s definitely real. It’s on the map.”
“I saw a map of Middle-Earth. Is that real?” Avery asked.
“Yep!” Pierce said. “Middle Earth is the equator. The equator is in the middle of Earth.”
“No. No, that’s made up, that’s-“
“The middle of Earth is a core of molten hot magma,” Avery said.
“Sri Lanka is definitely real,” she said. “So many people with racialized identities struggle with the validity of their homelands. It’s so important to treat these issues with respect-“
“That’s why I support the Republican Party,” Avery said. “Only the Republicans promise to fight against validity.”
“No, validity is a good thing — that’s — that’s not how-“
“My mom had validity once,” Pierce said. A smile flickered over his face. “It got real bad.”
Avery reached over to Pierce’s desk and gave his hand a supportive squeeze. “I’m so sorry, that’s awful.”
“I think you two are being silly now,” Margaret said. “There are students in this very school from Sri Lanka.”
“Name three.”
She paused and cocked her head to the side. Then she said, “No, that’s, that’s… that’s tokenism.” She shook her head, making her blue-dyed asymmetrical haircut tremble. “And that’s bad.” She sighed deeply, then took some forms off the stack of papers attached to her clipboard. “Since you both completed the course, I’m going to give you a certificate declaring you a Champion of Diversity-“
“Yes! A certificate?!” Pierce pounded on his desk with a big grin on his face. “My niggas are gonna be so jealous-“
“No, Pierce-!”
Avery laughed harder than he had ever laughed at anything. It was a double-edged sword, because when Avery and Pierce had stopped laughing at Margaret’s relentless sputtering, they then had to sit through a supplemental course in “n-word” use. Avery very nearly refused. He’d completed the course he’d been ordered to, but he figured she would just take away his next Saturday if he raised a fuss over it. Pierce seemed to reach a similar conclusion, and he too sat through it.
This time, neither of them made jokes. Pierce must have regretted prolonging this. Still, that laugh was worth it. Avery had to hold back snickers when he thought about it.
Finally, at the end of the afternoon, after six and a half hours of training, Margaret signed both Champion of Diversity certificates and told Pierce and Avery they needed to turn it into the Student Life Center in order to lift their suspensions. Avery wanted to point out that he wasn’t allowed in the Student Life Center while suspended, meaning he couldn’t turn in the certificate without violating his suspension.
But pointing that out would only drag this out even longer, so Avery kept his objections quiet.
At last it was all over, and Avery walked out of there with his certificate of completion. Pierce did too, though Avery could tell that more jokes thrummed beneath the surface. If he didn’t have a frat party to get to tonight, he would have continued teasing Margaret.
“Hey, can I show you something?” Avery asked when they left the classroom. Margaret stayed in there as though she had clean-up to do, though nothing had happened that would require a clean-up. Avery and Pierce headed towards the front of the building. “Come on, you’ll like it.”
Pierce shrugged. He followed Avery down the stairs and into the building’s basement, where Avery knew very well there was a storage area that the janitors rarely visited. This building was entirely unused on weekends (aside from the diversity classes, apparently), so the basement was a dingy empty maze of corridors beset by the constant hum of a weary old air conditioner.
“Man, that lady was crazy, bro. Did you hear her talking about Abijorins? What the fuck was that?”
“Yeah, she was reading a thing about Australian Aborigines I think, they’re real people,” Avery said.
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of Aborigines! There’s no such thing as Abijorins?”
“I don’t think so,” Avery said. “I don’t think she was very smart.”
“Of course not, bro. If she was smart, she’d have a better job,” Pierce said.
“I’m pretty sure she’s a diversity volunteer.”
Pierce stopped short. He screwed up his eyebrows. “Damn, bro. A volunteer?!”
“I know, shit’s fucked up,” Avery said. He opened the door to a supply closet. It was big and mostly empty — the only thing stored here was folding chairs, hundreds of them in long rows. Pierce looked around as though he might see something exciting, and he frowned.
“Why’d you bring me here?”
“I wanted to see if you were horny,” Avery said. He sunk to his knees. “Because you should know I can jerk you off better than any female. You looked horny in there.”
Pierce chuckled and turned bright red. “Better than a girl? Yeah, right, man.”
“Let me prove it,” Avery said. “I’ll take you out to dinner.”
“Like a date? No way,” Pierce said.
“I’ll give you cash, I just want to-“
Pierce blurted out, “Will you pay for the keg rental this weekend for my frat?”
“A keg? That’s a lot more expensive than one dinner,” Avery said. He pretended to think hard for a long time as he slowly undid Pierce’s belt and lowered his pants. “Fine,” he said. “One keg this weekend. Not Miller Lite though, because I’m coming to the party and I hate Miller Lite.”
“We don’t drink that shit,” Pierce said. “Make it Natty Bo.”
“Seriously? That’s what you drink?” Avery chuckled.
“It’s a Maryland tradition, man!”
“So’s catching crabs from a plus-size stripper. But fine, whatever, Natty Boh it is,” Avery said. He unzipped the fly of Pierce’s pants and reached in to get his dick. It was hot and moist with sweat, and Pierce sucked in his breath like he thought Avery would say no. Avery very nearly did. But he wasn’t gonna let this Saturday be that dull.
Pierce’s cock popped out the fly of his sagging pants, and Avery kissed it on the tip. Pierce closed his eyes and turned his baseball cap around backwards. He wrinkled his nose and spread his legs like he was preparing for a fight. He grumbled to himself as the flavor of his musty cock assaulted Avery’s senses, and Avery ran his tongue up and down the shaft.
“Hmmm… That does feel pretty good, bro,” he said. “But girls are still better-“
“I’m just gettin’ started. You gotta gimme a chance to show you what I can do,” Avery said.
Pierce shrugged and nodded, and he shifted his weight between his feet. As Avery deep-throated the shaft, Pierce let out a nervous little shimmy, and his dick twitched in Avery’s maw. Pierce said, “Hey, do you think that teacher would fuck me?”
Avery rolled his eyes. “No, Pierce. That’s very unlikely,” he said. He began slurping on the shaft, and Pierce gasped. Avery slathered spit up and down Pierce’s cock, his hand gently but firmly squeezing the root. It was long and thick, meaty even before it firmed up, which it did slowly.
“Oh. Shit… I, uh… Oh!” Pierce was about to say something else, but he sucked in his breath and held back a nervous laugh. “Oh, I, uh… You’re like… really… into that…” His dick twitched in Avery’s mouth. “Damn, man… I swear though, that Margaret chick was totally into me. She was groovin’ on me. Did you see how she touched my shoulder when we was doing that role-play, bro?”
Avery took the dick out of his throat long enough to make eye contact with him. “She was roleplaying a gropey boss. She was not into you.” He thwacked Pierce’s cock all over his face.
“Yeah, but like, she was really groping. She was all up on my shoulder,” he said. He pointed ot the part of his shoulder she touched. “I think I should ask her out. Maybe she likes to suck dick, you don’t know. She said sexual expression was one of the whatevers.”
“She also thinks Australia is full of Abijorins, Pierce. If she knew literally anything, she’d have a better way to occupy her time, and if you ask her to suck your dick, you are going to be taking diversity classes until the end of the time,” Avery said. He kept chasing Pierce’s dick with his tongue. “Do not do that.”
“Can I invite her to the party? There’s nothing wrong with going to a party.”
“But she’ll see something offensive at the party, Pierce!”
“Like what?”
“Like any of an infinite number of things! Drunk people kissing. Non-organic food. Ethnic decor. Disrespectful treatment of kitchen magnets. I’m guessing a dog that gets shotguns of kind bud. And what are the chances someone in your frat will call someone else a retard?”
He sighed and nodded reluctantly.
“So don’t do it,” Avery said. He had both hands on Pierce’s fully erect cock now, and it pulsated in his grip. “If you want to get your nut off, call me. But I only pay the first time, so don’t try to make more money off me.”
“Ah, man… I really wanted her to suck my dick,” Pierce said. He let out a long chest-rattling sigh.
“Well I’d feel bad if you end up having to learn about diversity again, Pierce, so I have to advise you against that,,” Avery said. He thwacked Pierce’s erection over his face. It was veiny and firm but not yet precummy. “If you’re done talking, can I get back to your dick?”
“Yeah…” He paused. “Can you get some girl drinks too? Like Smirnoff Ice?”
Avery didn’t answer, he just resumed licked Pierce’s shaft from root to tip. He had a feeling that the more he let Pierce talk, the more Pierce would ask for. Pierce’s dick was hard and throbbing, and once Avery got back to tasting it, salty precum began leaking out. Avery loved playing with that, smearing it over his own face as well as Pierce’s cockshaft. Every time he thwacked Pierce’s dick against his face, Pierce’s whole body jerked like he hadn’t expected it.
Deep-throating it to the root, Avery nuzzled his nose in Pierce’s pubic bush. That made Pierce stand on his toes as his knees weakened, and he sucked in his breath. “Daaamn, man!” he chuckled. “You should give lessons.”
Avery giggled around the cock in his throat, but he didn’t stop. He choked up mouthfuls of spit that ran down Pierce’s shaft and soaked his crotch and his long-hanging balls.
“Man… There’s a Jew in my frat who celebrates Christmas,” Pierce blurted out like he was tattling on a wrongdoer. He looked away, biting his lip.
Avery looked up at him without stopping swallowing Pierce’s dick to the root. He rolled his eyes. Pierce didn’t even look at him. He grabbed Avery’s ears and held on as he drilled his cock in deeper. He seemed to be talking on autopilot now, like he either didn’t notice he was talking or didn’t notice he was sort of fucking Avery’s throat like it was a diversity counselor’s pussy.
“I think he does. I mean he doesn’t complain when we put up a Christmas tree and shit,” Pierce said. His dick pulsated in Avery’s throat. “You know, there’s nothing literally Christian about a Christmas tree, it’s not a Jesus tree. They should make a Hannukah tree. That would solve everything! Why don’t the Jews do that?”
Avery tried to shake his head without stopping, but he didn’t think Pierce realized Avery was saying no. Pierce was totally ignoring Avery now — talking to him, but paying no attention as Avery gulped down his cock by the throatful.
With a gurgling murmur of desire, Pierce’s eyes bugged out as he lightbulbed up an idea, still seemingly unaware of his cock in Avery’s throat or the intense pleasure coursing through his body as a result. “I should do that. I could sell Hannukah trees, man, I’ll make millions. Jews aren’t anti-tree, are they? Are trees kosher?” Pierce said. “And what’s that black people thing? Kwanzaa? Do they have trees? They should have trees too, bro. I’ll tell Margaret that.” He paused. “Hey, wait, bro, I’m gonna nut, you wanna swallow it?”
Avery nodded, a few tears beading up at the corner of his eyes as he struggled to deep-throat him without choking too hard. His hands roamed up and down Pierce’s soccer-toned frame.
“Sweet, cool, brah, girls never wanna swallow,” Pierce said. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall of the storage area, holding on tightly to Avery’s head. He drilled his dick in and out and finally seemed fully engrossed, not thinking of ways to hit on the diversity woman. He almost looked surprised at his own orgasm, like he had forgotten it was a man and not Margaret on his dick.
Avery’s hands reached up to Pierce’s chest as he came, and Avery could feel his orgasm in the roiling tension in his muscles. Pierce wasn’t bulky, but he was athletic, and his ropy muscles all flexed at once beneath his shirt as his balls crawled up in his sac.
“Damn, brah…”
Pierce threw his head back and moaned. Creamy hot cum shot out and hit the back of Avery’s mouth. It seeped down his gullet and into his belly, and Avery guzzled down every drop. He didn’t want to spill any. Young men always had such a bright and sunshiney flavor to their cum. He swallowed every bit he could, only a few drops spilling out and trickling down to his chin.
A loud throaty moan escaped from Pierce’s throat. His cheeks turned red, and he held onto Avery’s head until his dick was fully limp. Then at last he let go, and his cock popped out. Avery chased it with his tongue as he gasped, because whenever he touched it, Pierce’s whole body shook and he let out another moan.
“Awright, brah, you’re done, okay?” Pierce said. He took a deep breath and put his dick back. “Hey, let’s go reserve that keg now, brah, okay?” He paused. “If my frat brothers ask, will you tell them I did some work for you? Like I cleaned your house or something? Not that, something cool. Like I beat up a dude for you, like some dude tried to rob you and I beat him up.”
“Yeah, fine,” Avery said. “But you gotta let me frot with you. I gotta bust my nut too.”
“Frot?”
“You never heard of that?” Avery blushed and laughed. He pulled down his pants and took his dick out, then he thwacked his hardon against Pierce’s soft, spongy cock. Pierce jumped when he did, like Avery’s cock hurt, which given how firm it was and how sensitive Pierce’s was, it might well have done.
But Avery always enjoyed a good frotting, and Pierce’s blushing anxiety made it even more arousing for him. Pierce kept shifting his weight between his feet, as Avery stroked both cocks together. Pierce’s was so sensitive that it throbbed and his knees kept going weak when Avery touched the tip.
“Oh god, man, shit, shit, you really are into that, bro, huh?” Pierce looked down at his dick like it was betraying him, and he grabbed a row of paper towls he found on a shelf in the supply closet, but he couldn’t clean himself off yet because Avery was spewing precum into his crotch.
His cock pulsating in his grasp, Avery stroked both dicks in both of his hands, then let go with his right hand so he could go back to groping every inch of Pierce’s lithe soccer-toned chest. His torso was much less muscular than his magnificent legs, but Avery still liked the way his pecs rippled when Avery touched them.
Pierce was so embarrassed he looked like he might explode as Avery finally reached his own orgasm, and pleasure exploded up and down Avery’s taut little both. Avery shot his wad into Pierce’s pubes, a vast flow of it that soaked his entire crotch in cream.
Pierce chuckled and laughed, as he raced to dot the jizz up with a wadded up bit of paper towel.
“You should let me swing on your dick again at the party.”
“Man, there’ll be girls there… Maybe that Margaret-“
“No! Do not invite her, Pierce! You will be back in that diversity class next weekend, and I am not gonna jack you off afterwards again,” Avery said. They both headed for the door.
“Fine… I won’t invite her to the stupid Christmas party,” he said.
“Pierce… You have to call it a Winter Party,” Avery said. “We just spent hours learning that.” He patted Pierce on the ass. “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, sweetie, because you are dumb.”
“That’s what my mom says…”
Avery laughed as they walked out of the building. He had a car and enough money he could put a deposit down on a keg without checking an ATM first, which, as far as Pierce was concerned, made Avery wealthy. He was impressed. Avery didn’t disabuse him of that notion, he just headed home to get ready to go to this frat party.

The Gloryhole

Patrick is working as a roughneck at an oil drill site in North Dakota and enduring the hazing and horseplay that comes with the job… But that all changes when a gloryhole appears, and the workers and rednecks he labors alongside all have a filthy chance to get their motors revving.
Can Patrick perform in front of the others?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

It was Patrick’s first time working as a roughneck, but he hoped that wasn’t obvious. Some people knew, of course, but Patrick kept to himself. He didn’t want to stand out like a rookie because he knew places like this often hazing their newbies.
He wasn’t opposed to hazing, mind you, he’d do what he had to do to fit in. The best way to get the worst of it was to stand out from the crowd, so he intended to go with the flow.
Normally, Patrick always stood out in any crowd because he was six and a half feet tall, and he was built like a linebacker. He was, in fact, a semi-pro linebacker, three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. Not that he had a six-pack, he wasn’t that cut, but compared to most of the men on Site G9, he was built like a gym. The others were mostly older, scruffier and either much fatter or skinnier, and definitely hairier.
Patrick felt young. He had never been nervous about being naked in a group until he got to the oil drill site. He realized only as he stripped off his clothes in a ridiculously crowded rig locker room that he reason he had never been nervous as a football player was that the men he changed alongside were his teammates he knew well and that they were around his own age.
But some of these roughnecks had fought in wars. There were bikers, meth-dealers, convicted murderers released after decades in prison, disgraced cops, a gaggle of men were from some indigenous tribe in the Amazon. They were craggy and stronger than Patrick even when their muscles were smaller. They had bulletwound scars and missing toes and silver-tinged chest hair that extended over their shoulders and onto their back. Nobody on Patrick’s football team had back hair.
It was one of those, a biker named Cooter who first touched Patrick’s dick.
It felt silly to make a big deal out of it, so Patrick didn’t. In the showers, it didn’t count. That’s what everyone said working on the drill site. That was like a motto.
Cooter with the broad shoulders and mat of silver chest fur over a barrel-shaped body wrapped one hairy arm around Patrick’s smooth back. “You’re a big hoss, huh? Saw you out there hauling lineboxes like a madman, good on ya,” he said. He gripped Patrick’s dick for just a half-second. He didn’t stroke it, and he made a point of not touching his balls — he lifted up Patrick’s cock and hefted it as though to make sure it was real.
Patrick sucked in his breath. In his semi-pro football league, if you accidentally touched someone’s dick, you had to shout “no pansy!” They did it even if they just brushed near it, or you accidentally touched someone’s pubic hair. Patrick gulped. He would have asked Cooter not to touch his cock again, but it was over before it began, and Cooter moved on. Patrick felt someone else’s chest hair rub on his back, and he closed his eyes rather than try to figure out who it was.
Cooter was very hairy. Patrick had always thought of himself as hairy too — some of his college teammates called him an ape because of all his chest hair. But Cooter and some of the others here, relatively old men, middle-aged guys, a lot of them had really hairy chests and bellies, and sometimes even backs. Old guys with muscular bodies were scary, Patrick thought.
There was a tattoo of a disemboweled man on Cooter’s belly. Patrick couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. Was the disemboweled man a cop? Patrick closed his eyes. Something about the scene looked oddly specific, as though it illustrated a real event.
“Come on, man, let’s wash this shit off!” Cooter again wrapped a hand around Patrick’s body and led him into the shower. Cooter was drenched in engine grease because he worked on the internal combustion coils. Somebody else slapped Patrick’s ass too, a lanky black Jamaican who leered at him as they all filed into the shower.
Patrick gulped. This was the nerve-wracking part. The shower. It was well-lit and cleaner than Patrick had expected — he was picturing something mildewy and dank like a prison shower. This wasn’t that bad, aside from the astoundingly cramped quarters.
It was obvious why that “no pansy” rule that applied on the team didn’t apply here. The locker rooms for semi-pro football teams (usually college stadiums and the attached athletic departments) were roomy and spacious. But here, the shower fit twenty or so but would have been cramped with ten.
As soon as Patrick entered, he felt limps dicks rubbing over his thighs and his ass, along wiry pubic hair, copious chest hair and frizzy beard hairs, and the smell of unwashed male armpits and ballsacs filled his nostrils. The only thing more disconcerting was that his own cock caressed Cooter’s ass — and Cooter’s ass-hair — as they filed into the shower. Patrick was terrified that he would get hard.
Despite all that, they were more or less nice — Patrick was surprised. He kind of thought there’d be fights, and maybe more, in the shower. But there was a lot of horseplay, whipping towels at each other, pretending to jack off on each other, that kind of thing, but no real fighting in the shower.
It was during that night, however, when things got real.
Men jacked off openly here. They just lay back in their bunk, which were stacked five high, with barely room to roll around in, and stroked it. Not under the covers or anything, they straight-up stroked it.
The lights were off, but there was emergency lighting out in the hall. The barrack was a long thin room with rows of bunks. The emergency lighting filtered in through the doors and kept the entire room illuminated enough that Patrick could see men pounding their meat.
Patrick resolved to pretend he hadn’t noticed. There was no way he would ever get hard enough to jack off in full view of a bunch of strangers like that. He rolled over and went to sleep, ignoring the smell of sour cum blooming in the air.
That continued for a few days. No one ever remarked on it, not even when it smelled rank of cum when they all woke up. He saw one middle-aged black man with creamy white cum dried on his belly when they all got dressed. Patrick tried to just stay quiet and fit in. He wasn’t going to be here for long.
But he got so horny. Soon he was getting random erections, for seemingly no reason. He’d never gone this long without fucking a woman.
That was when the hole appeared. He heard vague chatter about it, and when his shift was over, he and the others all went to check it out.
It was a gloryhole.
They said it was a woman who loved cock. Yes, a woman, name unknown, who sucked any dick a roughneck shoved through the gloryhole. Patrick thought that sounded like a cover – no one had ever seen “her”.
But supposedly, she came to the rig every once in awhile, drilled a hole in the middle of the night and stayed in some hidden chamber, ready to jerk off any cock that came through the hole. She was a pretty blonde woman who loved cock but didn’t want anyone to know, she was a fine Egyptian lady with a tongue for jizz, she was a Japanese lass or an Irish redhead, an Aussie with an insatiable appetite for cock. The rumors were hot and fast, and Patrick wasn’t sure if anyone believed any of it. They claimed they believed it, but they claimed it with a wink and a nod, not like something they really believed in.
The man on the side of the hole was named Rob. He had never spread a rumor that he was a woman. He would have gladly spoken to any of the roughnecks who he jerked off and would have told them he was a man. But he’d learned long ago that the best way to get men like these to let him handle their meat was to just make a gloryhole, hang out and wait.
Sure enough, one fat cock had popped through almost right away. He had recognized that as Barry Bagley, who was the convicted murderer Patrick had heard worked on the rig. Barry was a middle-aged man with gray hair and a powerful body like a painting of Zeus. He had been a prison boxer until he had been paroled this year, and the rig was the only place that would hire him — he wasn’t allowed to leave the state, which greatly reduced the options that were open to him.
Luckily, he had gotten used to being serviced by men behind bars. Doing it through a gloryhole was nicer than in person, and the man on the other end — Barry was not one who liked to pretend it was a woman — had nice, softer lips and a moister mouth than any of the men who had jerked him off in prison. The gloryhole mouth went down deep too, noze nuzzling into his crotch, eagerly, smooching it, slurping on it, hocking up massive loogies and choking up saliva by the mouthful to let it run down his sensitive shaft.
It was toe-curlingly good dome.
There was something alluring about not being able to hold onto the man’s head too. It seemed worse. Barry wished, while it was going on and while he got hard, that he could grab Rob’s head and plow in, ramming as hard as he could. But he wasn’t able to do that with the solid steel wall of the supply closet in the way. He could only try to grip the smooth surface while bucking his hips to ram the hole the best he could.
“Goddamn, Rob, you got mouth like liquid silk, boy, goddamn…” Barry sighed. He belched loudly as he finally orgasmed, and the moist sound of his cumwad overflowing filled the air. He knew he was first to use this particular hole, so he liked to make a big frothy mess that spilled out and dried on the stainless steel — which wasn’t stainless when it came to cum.
He pulled out, peered through the hole and suppressed a gag at the sight of Rob’s open mouth, full of creamy, snotty cum. Barry walked away with his dick still dangling between his legs, workjeans unbuttoned and unzipped.
“Hole’s open, boys,” Barry said to each of the groups of men as he passed them.
They all snickered, exchanging knowing glances at the sight of Barry’s foot-long cock. The more time they spent on the rig without any leave, the more often all of them found excuses to walk around naked. What started out as a bunch of awkward men who mostly didn’t know each other became a group of not-quite friends who had seen, and probably rubbed against, every part of each other’s bodies. So it seemed silly to rush to put their cocks away or to pretend to hide masturbating.
Not that anyone wanted to jack off now that there was a hole available. Rob handled dick better than any of the women at Madame Rosa Sumillo’s house — she was the brothel owner whose girls mainly catered to the rig’s workers on leave, in the tiny town of Onagnok. They were beautiful and willing and they had parts that jiggled in all the right ways. Patrick’s ears burned hearing the other roughnecks’s wau-wau about the dirty things they did.
No leave for three weeks though. It felt like forever in the future.
So when Patrick finally realized what they meant about a hole appearing, he was eager to do it. That eagerness vanished when he realized there was a line. The closet was barely big enough for two people, but there were five or six in there, and five or six more stroking their cocks outside the closet getting ready.
“You wanna take a spot in line?” Cooter asked, motioning for Patrick to stand beside him.
Patrick did so. He wanted to leave and come back later, when there was no line — and hopefully when Rob had wiped down the hole, because Patrick didn’t really want to touch another man’s cum. But he was too horny to stop, and he could already feel his dick getting hard. Despite the smell of male armpits and bodyhair and both fresh and stale cum, Patrick was getting hard just at the thought of getting his nut off.
He had no sooner stood there beside Cooter that Patrick heard a man’s deep-throated moan of orgasm. It sent a chill up Patrick’s spine. That was Lem Staggerman, who cackled like it was a big joke as cum sprayed into the hole. He felt his balls slap against the steel and was disgusted — he knew there was oozing cumloads right there, now no doubt sticking to his ballsac. Lem had a thick body and a thicker cock, thick enough that some of the whores at Madame Sumillo’s house of sin refused to see him. They said he stretched them out for other men.
That was the kind of thing Lem liked to hear. Rob had had to widen the gloryhole for him too. Lem was getting splinters on his dingadingdoo, but it fit just right now, and Rob went to town all over it. Lem’s whole body tensed up, his work-carved muscles undulating and flexing as he pounded at the gloryhole with all his might.
Rob opened his mouth to show the cumwad filling it up, but the men were in too much of a hurry to even check. Lem was followed by his another of the drill site’s black men, Kale, whose fat cock barely fit in the hole.
“Ah, nasty, I heard that shit splash in her mouth,” Kale said. “She’s so foul…” He chuckled, pounding on the steel, eyes opening wide as his cock rocketed to full erection. Kale was one of those who was well aware that Rob was a man. But he had been unsure the first time he did it. A part of him knew it felt like a man, but he had been told it was a woman and Kale had been just horny enough not to question that.
If he had known it was a man, he’d have refused to do it back then, and he’d have probably never worked up the nerve. His buddies in his old hood would never let him live it down if they found out. As long as he could pretend he had no idea it was a man, however, he could do it without compunctions, without worrying about Lem’s creamy load sticking to his pubic hair, without thinking about Albert Spackle’s cock, half-hard already, rubbing against Kale’s ass.
Cooter was in the closet by then, as Kale shot his wad, and the line kept moving. Then Albert went, and he had been dry-humping Kale’s ass — no one talked about any accidental contact in the closet, that was a major faux pas — so he shot his wad quickly. Albert always did that. He liked to be efficient.
A shiver of anticipation ran up Patrick’s spine. One of those indigenous Brazilian men was behind him now, erect cock so close Patrick could feel his body heat. When he stepped into the closet, the Brazilian behind him did too, cramming in so that his dick touched Patrick’s thigh. It was hot and throbbing, and it rubbed against Patrick’s well-muscled leg.
“Sorry, I’m too horny to wait…” the Brazilian murmured. Patrick rotated his body, panicking that he was about to be ramrodded — no one had suggested that was a possibility here, it just felt too much like a prison to dismiss it as a concern — so that his ass no longer faced the Brazilian.
But that meant their cocks touched. It looked deliberate. Patrick sucked in his breath. “Oh, sorry, man-“
“Ssssssh, it is okay, yes? We are in the darkness,” the Brazilian chuckled. “Ees okay, does not count, man…” But he thwacked his dick on Patrick’s hot shaft. Then he grabbed both dicks in one hand and stroked them both together — frotting, the other roughnecks called it —his chuckle turned into a laugh at the shocked, turned-off expression on Patrick’s face.
The Brazilian’s cock wasn’t especially big, even rock-hard, as he rubbed it aggressively. Patrick was certain the feel of it touching him made him lose his hardon. He was wrong, but he was certain of it, and he couldn’t see and wouldn’t touch it, so he had no way of knowing. Precum jetted out into Patrick’s pubes, and the Brazilian roughneck’s breathing grew labored.
‘Is he gonna cum on me?’ Patrick wasn’t sure if he would be expected to fight the indigenous Brazilian if that happened or not.
That continued until the next man shot his wad, then turned around and walked out. He walked right between Patrick and the Brazilian — whose name he had never learned — so their erect dicks touched his hairy redneck thighs. Patrick gulped. In the closet, it seemed, anything really did go.
Cooter was in the hole now. He growled and rumbled, pounding his fists on the steel. “Hey, Patrick, new man, you wanna lick my asshole? Huh? Go ahead, I’ll let ya-“
They all laughed hard, and Patrick blushed. “No!” he raced to say, even though he knew that made him look defensive.
“You sure?” Cooter wasn’t even looking at the hole now, his head craned around to look at Patrick.
The other guys in the closet saw how nervous the question made Patrick and kept asking. “You sure? Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ givin’ a little rimjob-“
“Yeah, or a big rimjob. Filthy, for sure. Cooter got greasy ass, you know that!”
“Go’n and give us a lick, man, we love you forevuh for it-“
“Ain’t nothin’ dirty ’bout it.”
“No! No way,” Patrick laughed, hoping he sounded nonchalant. It was hard to think with his erect dick still touching the Brazilian man’s dick. It was uncut, and it seemed to have way too much skin, Patrick thought. He gulped and closed his eyes.
He considered leaving. It would be embarrassing, but staying was embarrassing as well. If he left, they’d tease him the same they teased him now — the only difference would be that Patrick didn’t get dome. Patrick realized only now that his own hardon had not deflated the least bit, despite the Brazilian’s hardon rubbing on it. Or maybe because of it. It did feel kinda good, in a massage-y kinda way. It was hot and stiff and it pulsated lightly like a massage wand.
Patrick didn’t want to share that observation with anyone.
So when Cooter shot his wad into the hole, Patrick decided to fit in the best he could. He got up behind Cooter, dick rubbing against Cooter’s hairy ass, and murmured, “You done yet, redneck?”
“Get the fuck off me!” Cooter said, angry and laughing at the same time, his orgasm still finishing. As he leaned back, he grabbed Patrick’s cock — making Patrick suck in his breath — and guided it to the hole. Their dicks touched, and Patrick felt the gooey, sticky ooze of cum and spit and precum and who-knew-what-else.
It only lasted a moment. But Patrick felt like he was dripping with Cooter’s cum and his filthy redneck sweat. That Brazilian man was right up behind him, stroking himself furiously for a few seconds, his fist hitting Patrick’s ass with each stroke, then let go when he realized he was going to cum too quickly if he kept jacking off. He was just keeping hard while he waited for his turn.
There was another cock on his hand — was someone trying to get him to touch another man’s dick? Patrick closed his eyes and touched the wall, as his cock finally slipped in by itself. He realized then that this was why all of them thus far had stayed against the wall as they got serviced — it was the best way to stop touching the handful of men who crowded into the closet. They all pushed in close behind him, and Patrick felt their mnahoods and their body hair and their precum leaving a layer of sweaty filth on his smooth back.
“Oh god…” Patrick was shocked that it felt this good. He had been so nervous about doing it that he didn’t give much consideration to how it would feel. He just thought he’d blow his nut and finally stop thinking about sex all the damn time.
But this was amazing!
Rob swallowed him down to the root, all in one smooth motion, with no struggle at all. Patrick had never had anyone deep-throat him like that.
“Oooooh, oh — aaaaah, shit, goddamn — ah-” Patrick laughed, which again he realized happened for the same reason the others had laughed before him — it made this seem more like a joke than the rather dirty sex act it really was. Plus nobody wanted to sound like some naif busting a nut for the first time and not knowing what it was supposed to be like.
His dick throbbed in Rob’s throat. Rob had sensed that this was a new man. He was very good at distinguishing between cocks. He remembered Cooter’s dick, for example, from a different rig owned by a different company. He didn’t know Cooter’s name, but he knew his cock.
Patrick was fresh, unserviced, and Rob tried to give him an experience to remember. He gurgled and guzzled, his nose even extending into the gloryhole, ensconced in Patrick’s unkempt pubic bush. His tongue battered his erection, which throbbed in Rob’s mouth.
Someone was touching Patrick’s back now, and he didn’t mind it. He was as surprised as anyone could be. He kind of liked the broad hairy muscles of that unnamed Brazilian man behind him, his hot cock throbbing between Patrick’s legs.
Patrick got it now. He could have gotten himself hard rubbing his dick between Cooter’s hot asscheeks — they were hairy though weren’t they? Patrick laughed quietly at the thought that he was going to have to check that during the next shower. He’d have to find someone with a nice smooth ass whose cheeks were very humpable — maybe that indigenous Brazilian, who had no body hair at all — and Patrick would try to slip in behind him next time.
“Ah, shit…” Patrick let out a long, deep moan that echoed and made the other guys in the closet burst into uproarious applause. They had all gathered that Patrick had never done this before, so they liked to embarrass him, pinching his ass when he twitched and shook.
Creamy cum flowed down Rob’s throat, and he swallowed every drop. It was salty and warm, and a little grassy as though Patrick had absorbed the flavor of the turf he played football on. Rob didn’t let go even when Patrick was done shooting and Rob’s lungs cried out for oxygen.
He waited for Patrick to pull out, his muscles all flexing at once, letting out the roar of a champion, as he did when his team had just scored a touchdown. It was a similar, victorious thrill. He knew that wasn’t entirely logical — it wasn’t like he had done anything that required any tremendous skill.
But he had gotten it. He was no longer some young pup hoping no one figured out he was new around here. He had a confident lilt to his step, and when you knew you were tough, like he did, there was no reason to be squeamish about the Brazilian man’s precum and dickcheese sitting on his ass.
‘I’m about to go take a shower anyway’, he thought as he headed into the shower. He wasn’t nervous about crowding in there either. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He was just one real man among many. He laughed and groped his coworkers as a joke, even circlejerking with them before his next leave.
He was no longer a rookie, he was a roughneck.

The Fullback

Malachi is a football fullback… and a Jew on Christmas! So when Avery runs into him at a Chinese restaurant, he’s eager to swing on Malachi’s massive alpha male meat. Can Malachi perform on Hanukkah?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery enjoyed traveling during the holidays. He found it exciting, and he always met strange people and got into strange situations. He had gone to a Christmas Eve party for his extended family out in Florida and was heading back home to Sacramento. He decided to drive so that he could spend some time without his sister and her daughters — Avery lived with his sister’s family, whom he loved very much but occasionally needed a break from. They took a plane back to California. Avery rented a car and had one glorious week without the Frozen soundtrack dominating his life.
Let it go! Let it go! Let it goooooooo!
Avery was ready to let Frozen go. He was utterly sick of it. He drove west from Florida through Texas just so he wouldn’t have to see a lick of snow because he thought it would remind him of that movie, which he had positively adored when he first saw it. He dressed up as Elsa for Halloween. His nieces thought it was hilarious.
But his nieces performed the music from that movie (or really just that one song) so many times he would have gladly strangled every single character if he could. He would have supported a Constitutional amendment banning the song. He had even considered stealing his nieces’s copy of the movie (but they’d just buy it again). He was completely and utterly sick of it.
He awoke on Christmas Day in a cheap motel. Avery had hoped he might get a little excitement on this trip, and this motel seemed like a perfect opportunity. These sorts of cheesy motels in nowheresville — Hampton, Mississippi, in this case — were often crawling with muscular men who would gladly let someone like Avery service them.
But it seemed all the good ones were at home with mom, no doubt overeating cheesy gratins and dry turkey. Avery was disappointed. There was a tubby black guy in the room next door and an elderly white man down the hall. The motel clerk was fat and slovenly. Two tired-looking women shared another room. There was a nerdy fellow who looked almost cute, but he disappeared anyway, and Avery didn’t see him again.
So he just went out to dinner by himself. The only restaurant open on Christmas Day was the Chinese dive across the street from the motel. Avery intended to get some takeout fried rice and eat it while watching something arousing on TV — he wasn’t sure if there would be anything arousing on TV right now, but he wasn’t about to watch some Christmas special.
However, when he went into the restaurant, there was another patron there who sent all of Avery’s plans out the window.
The young man was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, white but very swarthy. He had a curly mess of black hair, tangled and akimbo atop his head. He snorted as he shoveled rice into his mouth. He wore one of those little half-shirts that football players wore at practice, along with loose-fitting track pants. He didn’t seem to notice Avery. Nothing made him look up from that bowl of rice, except the pretty Chinese waitress who brought him a refill of ice-cold Coke.
Avery got his fried rice and sat down across from the young man, who furrowed his brow at him. “Sorry,” Avery said. “Is it okay if I sit here? No one else is really out today, but I hate eating alone.”
He shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, but he nodded, so Avery sat down. Avery introduced himself, and the man said he was Malachi.
“You a Jew?” Malachi asked.
Avery shook his head. “Nope. My family’s just doing a… well, it’s kinda complicated. My sister did a Christmas dinner at our parent’s house on Christmas Eve, and we’re doing… Nevermind, it’s not that interesting. I’m just celebrating Christmas like three different times this year, none of them on Christmas Day.”
“Oh.”
“You’re Jewish?”
He nodded. He spoke with a mouth full of rice. “You know what Samoans is?”
“Samoans? The people? They’re… people. From Samoa.”
“Are they Christian?”
“Uh… Yeah, I think so. Maybe. Mainly. I guess some are probably not,” Avery said.
Malachi nodded. He shrugged. “Don’t matter. There’s this Samoan guy… He gets all the chicks. He’s on my football team. I thought he wouldn’t celebrate Christmas. I thought he could get some Jewish chicks and give me one. Girls love him so much, they think his accent is sexy. Then he said he did celebrate Christmas, so he couldn’t be with me. He doesn’t even have a family out here, they’re back in Samoa. Fuckin’ asshole. He just didn’t want to hang out with me. He’s probably got Jewish chicks all over him. Girls fucking love him because of that accent and cuz he’s exotic.” He said that last word with a sneer. “He’s not even, really, I mean, Samoa’s way out there but he’s totally a normal dude. He’s into the fucking Kardashians and shit. When this cheerleader asked him how to cook some traditional Samoan thing, he had to look it up on Wikipedia.” He paused. “He’s got great hair, they like his hair. I’ll give him that one, he does have great hair.”
“Oh, you poor baby.” Avery smiled. “So you’re all alone? You’re the only nonchristian on your team?”
He nodded. “Coach says we have to do everything together, so now that they’re all gone for Christmas, I’ve got jack shit to do.”
“What are you doing for Hanukkah?”
He shrugged. “Nothing really. I’ve got a menorah set up back at my place. My mom’s sending me presents, but I’m not going back home for Hanukkah. Too expensive. I’m from California.”
“Really? Where?”
“Sacramento.”
“That’s where I’m from too,” Avery said.
“Oh. Cool.” Malachi bit his lip. Avery could see the thoughts running through his mind. He wanted to ask for a ride home, but he didn’t want to sound desperate, and he didn’t want to admit he couldn’t afford to pay for gas. Today was the first day of Hanukkah, so they’d get to Sacramento before it was over. Until it was an option, Malachi hadn’t realized how much he missed his family and wanted to see them for the holiday. “That’s cool.”
Avery cleared his throat. Malachi had finished his food, and he eyed Avery’s fried rice hungrily. Avery hadn’t finished it. He offered it to Malachi, whose massive fullback body bristled. He shoveled the last of it into his mouth in about three bites.
“So, uh… Malachi, I could drive you home. I wouldn’t ask you to pay anything in money,” Avery said. “But maybe… we’ll be sharing a motel room, so maybe you could let me have a taste of your cock?”
He furrowed his brow. “What?”
“Nevermind. You’re not into it-“
“Wait, what?” His muscles all shook and flexed, rippling up and down his body. “Wait, what? What? What?”
Avery chuckled. He hadn’t meant to make Malachi so nervous. Malachi blushed and stammered. He looked to the Chinese family behind the counter as though they would jump in. They didn’t seem to pay any attention though.
“I just… I think you’re really handsome, and I bet you have a big dick. It’s no big deal. Whatever. Here, let me just give you enough money for a bus ticket,” Avery said.
“No. I’ll do it.” He gulped like he regretted it as soon as he said it. “I’ll do it. We gotta… I gotta call this guy.”
“What?”
“Nevermind. Let’s go,” he said. “Will you buy me some shoes?”
“Wait, what?” Now it was Avery’s turn to repeat that a few times.
“You’ll buy me some new shoes, right? I need sneakers.”
“Oh. Well… Yeah, sure. Okay. No shoe stores are open though. Tomorrow,” Avery said.
“Yeah. Tomorrow.” He seemed ambivalent and nervous about doing this, even though he spoke confidently. His hand trembled when Avery brushed up against it, like he was terrified of accidentally holding hands with Avery. He cleared his throat but didn’t say anything else. His eyes were downcast.
It took Avery an embarrassing amount of time to realize that Malachi wanted him to pay the bill. Avery smiled and did so. He loved paying for men because it always made them nervous and there was nothing alluring than a nervous handsome alpha.
“Did you want me to pay the bill?” Avery asked. “I can treat you.”
Malachi nodded. “Sorry. I’m not a very good Jew.”
The waiter took a long time to finally bring the bill, and Malachi told Avery some long rambling stories about Hanukkahs past. Avery had shockingly little interest in Hanukkah or Jewish holidays in general, but he liked the way Malachi’s big jaw and huge square cheeks worked up and down when he talked. He had a big goofy face like his chest was hollow, and he guzzled from a glass of water like a dying man in a desert.
He had been at his college weight room, Malachi said, that was why he wore his half-shirt and trackpants. He wanted to work out there alone today. He hadn’t even showered afterwards — he said the hot water had been turned off — so he smelled musky and funky, which Avery loved. He had to resist the urge to bury his nose in Malachi’s armpit and sniff.
“I’ll take a shower,” he said when they got back to Avery’s motel room. Malachi gulped and blushed. “Then we can… I dunno, whatever.”
“No. No shower, not yet,” Avery said. “Let’s do the whatever first.”
“Oh god… You’ll definitely buy me shoes, right? Any kind I want?”
Avery furrowed his brow. “What’s your deal with shoes? Is this a trick? I’m not buying like twenty thousand dollar sneakers or something, if that’s what you want.”
“No. They’re like two hundred bucks.”
“That’s fine.”
He took a deep breath. “It’s just… there’s this guy on my team. His name is Raython. It’s a stupid fucking name, and he’s an idiot. I hate him.”
“You hate a lot of your teammates.”
“They’re fucking assholes, every single one of ’em,” he said with a snarl. “Raython is always braggin’ cuz he’s got a sugar daddy. When he started bragging about it in September, I thought everyone would call him call him names.”
“A sugar daddy?”
“But no one called him any names about it! He brags about it! Got some old guy who swallows his loads and buys him shoes and clothes and jewelry! This guy bought him a car! A car! And he sold it, like an asshole, so he could buy some designer handbag for this girl. Fuckin’ purse that costs three grand. Everyone on my team thinks he’s like a fucking genius.”
“So you wanna get in on that? You want a sugar daddy of your own?”
“Hell yeah! I’ll show him up. You gotta buy me something else though too. Besides the shoes,” he said. “Maybe something Jewish. Do they sell blinged-out menorahs? No, that’ll look stupid.” He brought out his smartphone. “I’ll find something on Amazon. The WiFi doesn’t work here, does it?”
“It’s been hit or miss all day.”
“Well, I don’t have much data left on my data package. I’ll probably run out soon. I’ll find something quick. You can order it and have it sent to the college athletic department, that way I’ll open it in front of everyone,” he said. He was intently focused on his phone.
Avery at first thought he should let Malachi take a little time to find something he wanted. But then Avery realized that was silly — he had the entire drive to Sacramento to figure it out. It might take that long too. Avery was beginning to think Malachi wasn’t that smart — he hurried to search Amazon because it hadn’t occurred to him that Avery had a phone as well, and Avery could afford a much larger data plan.
Avery didn’t want to distract him with that though, so he didn’t mention it. He just got down on his knees and planted his face between Malachi’s legs. His track pants smelled very sweaty, which made Avery’s dick hard. He must have worn these whenever he worked out, and he either didn’t wash them very often or he had just sweated into them so much that no amount of washing would clean them.
The taste was salty and bitter and astringent, and it tasted so good Avery drooled onto Malachi’s trackpants. Above his head Malachi grunted and grumbled. He looked down with wide-eyed amazement as though he hadn’t thought Avery was serious.
“Damn… Raython said it was easy,” Malachi said. “But it’s weird. It’s not like a girl. Girls don’t… sniff my crotch. Like a dog.” He laughed nervously.
“That’s cuz girls don’t know what’s good,” Avery said. He smiled and stroked Malachi’s dick through his pants. It was hard almost right away — Malachi had that youthful vigor still, and he got hard at the drop of a hat. Circumcised, of course, but Avery didn’t mind that one bit. It was hefty enough to be meaty in Avery’s hand.
“Shit, my battery’s almost dead too. I don’t know where my charger is,” he said. “Damn it, I’m not gonna have a cell phone all the way back to Sacramento.” Again, it hadn’t occurred to him to ask Avery to buy a new charger for him. Malachi, Avery thought, was a real dumbass. It’s a good thing he’s handsome.
Malachi gasped and his knees buckled when Avery pulled his trackpants down and took his cock out. Once again, Malachi looked shocked that this was happening. He held his cell phone in his hand and tried to keep clicking on it, but he kept getting distracted. “Estimated time remaining: seven minutes,” he said with a chuckle. “I better find something nice in seven minutes. Do you know about black guys? What impresses black guys?”
Slathering spit up and down Malachi’s shaft, Avery didn’t really want to talk. But he felt an obligation to help. “He’ll be more impressed if you aren’t trying to impress him. I thought you wanted girls, not him. What does it matter what he thinks anyway?”
“Cuz he thinks he’s hot shit! He’s some old man’s toy, and he thinks that makes him special! He gets chicks but only because his sugar daddy pays for stuff. He takes ’em out to the theatre, man. Not like a movie, I mean like… musicals and shit.”
“Girls like that-“
“It’s fucked up!” Malachi threw his hands in the air.
“Okay, Malachi-“
“He thinks he’s a fucking gigolo, but he’s not. He’s a manwhore. If his sugar daddy wore a colorful suit, Raython would be a street-walkin’ rentboy,” Malachi said. He looked down and watched his half-hard dick slip into Avery’s mouth, but he watched with disinterest as though he was so intent on fuming about Raython that he didn’t even notice where his dick was.
Avery decided to just ignore it. Malachi would calm down and focus on his dick when he was ready. Soon enough, his cock did get hard. Malachi moaned and bit his lip. He brought his cell phone back up and looked through it some more. “He thinks he’s hot shit because he’s so popular. I’m popular too. I’ve got six minutes left to find something. What about a couch? No, no matter how expensive that is, Raython won’t care. Jewelry, Raython wears jewelry. But I’m white, I’ll just look weird if I wear jewelry.”
Avery flopped Malachi’s massive dick over his face. He slipped his tongue up Malachi’s body, licking sweat off his belly. His muscles twitched and flexed beneath Avery’s tongue.
“What about a butt-dial? What if I accidentally called Raython while you were here? He could hear you giving me money,” Malachi said. “Nah, he’ll just hang up, he won’t listen. He’s at Christmas with his family.”
Avery sucked on each of his nipples. Malachi still didn’t seem to notice, not even when Avery’s tongue traveled up to his neck. Finally when Avery suckled on his neck hard enough to leave a hickey, Malachi winced and pushed Avery back down.
He chuckled dryly, and a bit nervously. “No, no. Anything above the neck is a kiss, man, and I don’t kiss dudes.”
“Okay,” Avery said. He went back to his knees and sucked the sweat off Malachi’s heavy balls, which tasted clean and salty, like a well-used but just-washed jockstrap. Avery sucked every drop of moisture off, making Malachi groan and shake so hard he put his cell phone down.
Precum flowed down Avery’s throat. He gurgled merrily on it, deep-throating Malachi, who seemed to have at last forgotten about his cell phone. He watched with baited breath as Avery swallowed his entire massive rod. Avery’s throat squeezed around it, and Malachi’s muscles all flexed, then relaxed, then rippled as his whole body undulated. His hands fluttered behind Avery’s head.
“Jesus Christ!” Malachi said with a moan. “Hell, I ain’t know dudes could swallow so deep like that. Fuck…”
Avery giggled at the thought of a Jew exclaiming about Jesus on Christmas, but he didn’t want to stop licking Malachi’s cock, so he didn’t point that out. He nuzzled his nose in Malachi’s dense, kinky pubic hairs, his tongue slithering out to tease his entire shaft.
Ready to move on, Avery pulled off his cock. Malachi gasped. Avery smiled up at him. He pulled out a bottle of lube and worked some onto his ass.
“Ah, shit, down to less than four minutes,” Malachi said, picking his phone back up. “Are black guys impressed by dirtbikes? I know the Texans on my team are always bragging-“
“Malachi, stop asking me questions about black guys,” Avery said. “I’m paying you for your dick. You have to focus on that, at least a little bit.”
“Sorry, okay.” He looked genuinely chagrined. “I just only have three minutes left to find something.”
“You have a whole fucking drive to look it up, Malachi, and you can charge your phone in my car. If you do it good enough, I’ll buy you a Ferrari. I can afford it. You need to focus. No matter what you do, the other guys on your team will think you are a pussy if you do it to impress them,” Avery said.
He paused. “A Ferrari? Really?” He sighed. “I don’t think I can do it that good. Sorry.”
“Black guys are not impressed by humility, Malachi,” Avery said, still gathering his breath from that cock in his throat.. He lifted his well-lubed ass up and twinkled his hole in Malachi’s direction.
Malachi sighed. “I guess you’re right. Raython has to find out about this though. I’m only doing it to show him up,” he said. “But I’ll focus on you now. Okay, okay, I can do this,” Malachi said like he was trying to convince himself. He stroked his cock a few times, aiming a very serious face at Avery’s ass, as though it had displeased him by being attached to a male body. He sighed. He winced as he slipped his dick between Avery’s cheeks. Then he smiled. “It really feels like a woman’s ass. Raython always said, that but I didn’t believe him. I’m glad you’re not hairy.”
Avery was about to tell him again to stop talking about Raython, but then Malachi’s cock slid into his well-lubed ass. Avery grunted. A jolt of pain and intense pressure ran up his spine. They both moaned in sync with each other.
The pain slowly melted away, bit by bit with every thrust of Malachi’s cock inside him. It was replaced by an ever-mounting wave of pleasure, growing stronger each time Malachi got another inch of his massive meat inside him. Each thrust amplified the thrumming pleasure in Avery’s body too, which made him growl and paw and the air in front of his face.
After a few moments of awkward dysrhythmic gyrating, Malachi seemed to get his groove. He grunted and moaned as he moved, his rod ramming all the way in then pulling almost all the way out. Avery’s sensitive rim quivered and stretched to accommodate him.
The feelings ricocheting around in Avery’s body were so intense he couldn’t quite handle them. He tried to make feminine orgasmic sounds, since men always preferred that, but the sensations overwhelming him were too potent to control. He couldn’t do anything more than moan and squirm as he struggled to accept Malachi’s dick. Spasms of bliss wracked Avery’s body.
“God damn, boy, hell, you got a nice ass,” Malachi said.
“Oy vey,” Avery said with a giggle. “You got a nice cock, boy.” He leaned his head back and licked Malachi’s meaty pecs.
Malachi chuckled. “This is really easy. I don’t know why I was nervous. I should have been looking for a sugar daddy a long time ago.”
“Yeah. You should. Tell your teammates. All football jocks should have a sugar daddy,” Avery said. His face was red, his own cock throbbing in his hands as he furiously stroked himself off.
Tendrils of orgasmic pleasure shot through Avery’s body. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but still moaned so loud he was sure that the tubby guy in the room next door heard. Avery squirmed in Malachi’s powerful arms.
“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” Malachi gasped like he was surprised to orgasm at all. His muscles flexed and stayed tense, which Avery loved — he licked Malachi’s chest while Malachi’s cock throbbed in his ass.
Avery felt the cum flowing through his shaft even before the first few drops of it sprayed into him. Then there was a torrent of hot, sticky fluids flowing through Avery’s body. He let out a long, low groan that made Malachi shudder, the motion of which kept Avery’s orgasm going and sent Avery over the edge. He shot his own load onto the carpeted floor of the hotel room.
But even though Malachi had begun cumming before Avery, Avery still finished first — Malachi had heavy athlete balls and a hefty, testosterone-filled body, so he shot a massive load that matched his manhood. It just kept on coming, flowing into Avery’s body and trickling throughout his innards. His creamy cum coated Avery’s flesh.
Finally Malachi was done. He sighed and pulled out, making Avery twitch as he collapsed onto the bedspread. Malachi chuckled.
“Well, shit…” Malachi said with a deep breath rattling his cavernous chest.
“You have a nice cock…” Avery said dreamily. He wiped that moist shaft clean with a tissue. Malachi watched him do so with a satisfied grin. His chest had re-broken out with fresh sweat, which Avery licked off his taut flesh.
Malachi flopped down on the bed. He picked up his cell phone again, eyeing Avery dourly as he allowed Avery to lick his muscles. He endured it like a man allowing a pet cat to lick him: with a certain amount of bemusement even though he was annoyed by it.
“Huh, the cell phone’s still working. I’ve still got data, a couple bars left,” he said. He shrugged. “It’s a miracle, I guess. What about…?”
“The Ferrari?”
Malachi nodded.
“If you can do me like that at least twice a day till we get to Sacramento, I’ll buy the Ferrari. Do you have a job?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll also pay for your insurance and gas, but only till the end of the school year. Then I’m taking the Ferrari back,” Avery said. “You won’t be able to afford to keep it going anyway.”
Malachi nodded. “Fine. As long as Raython sees it so I can tell him where I got it.”
“Good. And if you need a note from me to prove it to him, I’ll write you a note, sweetie,” he said. He kissed Malachi on the neck. Malachi bristled but allowed it. Avery smiled as he played with Malachi’s limp dick. “Happy Hanukkah. This is going to be a fun road trip.”
“Yeah,” Malachi said. “Happy Hanukkah.”

The Cricketer

Rob is in England when he spies an amateur cricketer who needs some quid. He is Ranuga, and he’s desperate for dosh. That just happens to be a situation Rob can help with!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob had one day to kill in Britain before he returned to Asia. He had a first-class plane ticket to Indonesia, and he eagerly awaited the departure. He’d had enough of the dreary monotony of England. Everything here was gray and bland: the food, the weather, the flowers somehow, it was all a vast wash of nothing.
The fields in the park near his hotel had been empty since Rob got here. It looked like a place they’d hold sporting events sometimes, but he saw no signs of that on previous days aside from lots of garbage. He hadn’t spent much time at the hotel, so it was possible something was going on there earlier. He was in Britain just to see a concert by his favorite band, the Monkeysmashers, so he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else.
When he left his hotel to find something to do on his last day in Britain, however, he saw people in the field. The little parking lot attached to it was full of cars.
Is that a park? Rob walked over there. He was trying to walk more, so this was a good plan, he thought. He’d go to the park. You never knew, he thought, he might meet someone.
It turned out to be an amateur cricket game. Or maybe just semi-amateur, maybe league play? Or was it a practice? Rob did not understand cricket enough to know. There was only a small audience, so maybe practice. Or a very unsuccessful league.
That strip of dirt down the middle was the cricket pitch. Rob was fascinated by it — he had never watched cricket, and as he approached, he overheard people express shock that a batsman had hit the ball to “cow’s corner”, which Rob thought was hilarious. It turned out to be a portion of the field that rarely received hits (so cows were free to graze there unmolested).
Rob had only stood there for a moment before he heard a loud engine roaring behind him. He — and the other fans, who appeared to be one small group of loud men shouting “oi!” at everything, and a bunch of women who were presumably the players’ girlfriends — turned to look at the car park.
It was a tow-truck, or a “recovery vehicle” as they called it here. It was a rusty brutalist conglomeration of winches and wheels, and a burly scally in a reflective vest hopped out to get it moving right away. In seconds, he had hooked up a ramshackle old Skoda, which was green like a depressed lime.
“Ranuga! Ranuga! They’re towing your car, mate!”
This was a repo man, Rob thought, or whatever the British word for that was. The tow-truck driver was in a hurry because he wanted to repossess the car before he was seen. Rob stepped aside. This seemed like a potential fight in the making. Or a scrap in the offing, however, they say that here.
A player from the team on the far side of the field sprinted through the game, which stopped as everyone turned to gawk. He shouted in what Rob first thought was a South Asian language — because the coach was either Indian or, Rob suspected as he got closer, Sri Lankan. But it was English, it turned out, just garbled and containing so many jumbled up obscenities and insults — even some rhyming slang — that Rob couldn’t decipher it.
He was Ranuga, and he had a rugged face with a dashing black beard peppered with salt. Rob stopped listening or paying much attention to anything except Ranuga. He was short but broad-shouldered and powerfully built, muscles rippling through the cricket whites he wore. His beard was a scruffy, curly explosion of pure jet hair, matted to his head with sweat. His skin was almost as dark, so the gray dapples in his beard stood out like a sun in the night.
“Hmmm…” Rob moaned to himself. He didn’t mean to do it out loud, but the women near him gave him an odd look. He smiled at them and headed out to the car park.
“You bloody wankeh! I told someone — Marianne, I think, her name was Marianne, in you’h bloody office! She said I could send a payment by the end of the week!”
“You still can, mate,” said the recovery-vehicle driver with a bored look on his face.
“No, no, you can’t take my car. I need that. I have to go to work, I have to drive — I need to drive, I have to, I have to-“
“You can take it up with your financing company,” the recovery-vehicle driver said. He was one of those jaw-heavy Brits who constantly chews on his lower lip. His jaw was working mad as he talked and then even moreso when he was quiet. “But I’m taking the vehicle.”
“I will fight you, I will-” the cricketer Ranuga said. His handsome face flashed and twinkled, and you could see in the solid sterling of his mug that he would have dropped to his knees to beg if he thought that would work. But he wasn’t gonna debase himself in front of the other cricketers unless he was sure he’d get something out of it.
And the recovery-vehicle driver was stone-facing. No mercy forthcame, and the two faced off. Ranuga had nothing more to say, and the driver couldn’t leave without turning his back on Ranuga. So they squared off with hostile mugs neither could come down from.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” Rob said. He came between them and faced Ranuga. He was suddenly stricken with desire. He paused, mouth agape.
“Uh… Yes? Mate?” Ranuga scowled. Then he shoved Rob out of the way.
His firm hands gripped Rob’s arm and pushed. Rob blushed. Ranuga took off his sweatshirt, making the assembled team laugh — Ranuga wore a sleeveless tee (or “vest”, as they would call it here) and flexed his biceps. His team laughed because he was “old” — at forty-two, he was hardly ancient, but he had a prematurely graying beard and the players were about nineteen on average, so he might as well have been Methuselah from their perspective.
Ranuga didn’t care. He was pissed. He had delicately arranged his finances so he could pay all his bills this month. But that wasn’t going to be possible until Friday. Marianne had told him that he could wait until then.
This, he thought, was ridiculous.
So a part of him thought taking off his kit and intimidating the tow-truck driver might have worked. Ranuga was in great shape, with a thick chest and arms like a stevedore. Rob licked his lips at the sight. His chest was covered in a mat of black hair except for a silver streak running down the center, over his sternum. Ranuga’s biceps bulged and ran with sweat despite the bleak chill of the London afternoon.
But the tow-truck driver was not so easily intimidated. He ignored Ranuga’s flexing and sputtering.
Ranuga’s hair was marvelously dense. Rob loved a hairy man. He blushed even though no one was looking at him. The teams were even going home. Ranuga’s red-faced rage concealed his embarrassment. He didn’t want his team to know he had money trouble.
“Uh, sorry, excuse me-“
“You yankee bell-end, wo the fuck do you want?” Ranuga said as he watched his car roll up the back of the tow-truck. He had his hands on the sides of his head, scratching his temple. His voice had a dense London accent, and he spoke like his mouth was full of sandpaper.
Rob came closer. “I can help.”
Ranuga blinked a few times. “Wot?”
“I can help you. With money. I don’t want you to be without a car. I’m sure-“
“Wot?”
“Can you come with me to my hotel room? I want to ask you something,” Rob said. He got closer, so Ranuga could hear him without the others listening in. The onlookers and players had mostly dispersed, but some still milled about, holding bats and balls — Ranuga was supposed to take all that kit home with him to store for the next game.
He was supposed to take that kit home in his car.
So no one knew what to do with it now. They watched Ranuga talk with the young American man — Rob — with a flamboyant lilt to his step. The recovery-vehicle driver glared as though Rob was doing something wrong by helping Ranuga with his bills.
“How much will you need?”
“For what? The car? To get current with payments…? Like six hundred pounds,” Ranuga said. He groaned and closed his eyes. He hadn’t said that out loud before. He was madly in debt. He slapped his hands over his cheeks and stroked that dense beard.
“I can do that. I’ll give you the cash,” Rob said. “If you take me back to my hotel and ram me senseless.”
There was a long pause. Rob blushed, and Ranuga did too, though his was hidden by his beard, which he scratched. He shifted his weight between his feet. It took a few seconds before he raised his eyebrows like he was just now processing what Rob said.
“Aaaaah… Aaah. Oh.”
“I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t wanna do. I wanna jerk you off and-“
“Fine. Deal. Fine.” Ranuga crossed his arms over his chest. Now he felt self-conscious in his vest. He wished he hadn’t taken off the shirt. He glowered, but inside he was exulting — getting current on his car payments would be amazing. That would put him ahead of the game. Ranuga looked to another player, Zaran, and yelled for him. “Oi! Put that stuff in your car and take it to your garage-“
“You do it-!” Zaran yelled back.
They both instantly erupted in shouting. Zaran was handsome too. He was lankier than Ranuga, and he had a charming set of dimples. He was like a zippy little hedgehog, running around the parking lot and playing some kind of prank — taking the piss out of — the other cricketers. It seemed they had all forgotten about Ranuga going off with the stranger. Ranuga obviously liked it that, and he didn’t mention it to anyone as he got work picking up after the match.
Zaran was cute, but he wasn’t as handsome as Ranuga. Ranuga had handsomeness in spades. He’d probably do better with women if he tempered his handsomeness with some cuteness, Rob thought, he was a little too handsome, like his only possible role in a movie would be ‘arrogant prince’. He was stressed due to the debt situation, as he hustled and bustled with Zaran, his muscular shoulders worked hard and stretched the fabric of his shirt. Eventually Zaran agreed, and he loaded up the gear in his car.
By then the other cricketers had all gone too. Ranuga swaggered away from the field and the car park. He didn’t wait to see if Rob followed. He was sure he would face lots of questions next week when he had a car and no American weirdo following him around.
Maybe, he thought, I should tell everyone he’s my bookie. It’s just embarrassing enough to be believable. I could say I won a couple quid on a bet and got my car back on Friday. Nobody can prove that didn’t happen.
“Is you into Sri Lankan blokes, mate?” Ranuga asked as they got near the seedy hotel. He had only just realized how odd this situation was — he had been so focused on getting paid that he didn’t think about this: Why had an American stranger come after him?
Rob opened the door to his room and let Ranuga in. He smiled. “I just admire the male physique.”
“Not Sri Lankans?”
Rob shook his head. “I didn’t know you were Sri Lankan. I would have guessed like Malaysian or something.”
“Malaysian?! Wot!” He scowled and wagged his finger at Rob. “Don’tyoo even say that.” He glared at Rob, who nodded and looked down. Ranuga stroked the beard. “You’re weird as.”
“I know…” Rob blushed. He shut the door, and Ranuga flopped onto the bed.
He wore a pair of track pants which he was about to rip off unceremoniously. Ranuga had never done anything like this before, so he felt a need to hide that fact — he wanted to look like an old hat at it. But he also didn’t want to look like some kinda trashy rentboy.
“Wait,” Rob said. “Let me take your pants off.” He crawled up on the bed, mounting Ranuga’s legs. He had on filthy old dark-blue track pants with a white stripe up the side. They smelled strongly of manhood and grass, and a bit of leather. Rob inhaled the intense scent as he massaged Ranuga’s legs.
Ranuga bristled. He had never been treated like this — most women wanted him to shower and wear nice clothes only to take them off. Rob seemed to want to worship his sweaty track pants, and he even nuzzled his nose within the salt-stained crotch. He inhaled loudly and passionately, full-throatedly savoring the scent and the moisture he flicked up with his tongue.
His forehead bumped against the pouch within Ranuga’s tight boxers, which cradled his heavy cock and balls. He was about to take off that sleeveless vest too, to bare his chest, but Rob stopped him.
He wanted to do it. Rob dove beneath the sleeveless shirt — an A-shirt, rather like what Americans called a “wifebeater” — and inhaled the stale sweat that had collected there. That tee shirt was utterly disgusting, Rob thought with a desirous giggle. It smelled like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.
More like months. Ranuga never washed the shirt because it was good luck. It had seemed like good luck ever since he wore it a couple times in a row when he won a game.
When he came to Britain, his teammates thought it was funny; they intimated it was a Buddhist tradition, that he had had the shirt blessed in a temple and now didn’t wash it in order to keep the blessing. That wasn’t true, but Ranuga had stopped disputing it.
He just didn’t wash it because he had worried it would interrupt his win streak back some twenty years ago, he thought as Rob squirmed and licked all of his unwashed flesh beneath the shirt. He eventually lost a game, so the win streak was interrupted anyway, but he couldn’t help but feel the shirt was good luck anyway. He washed it once then, again a bit later, and a girlfriend had washed it unknowingly once, and then he had washed it again somewhat more recently.
But still, it reeked of his manhood because it became utterly soaked, sopping wet with his spicy sweat every weekend, and he hadn’t washed it in two years. He felt right putting it on.
Now he was embarrassed. Was his stink what had attracted Rob to him?
While Rob appreciated a natural man’s musk, what he really loved — besides the adorable beard — was that chest. Ranuga had a dense mat of black hair over his powerful muscles, which were as black as night. He had darker skin than Rob even thought possible.
Rob’s tongue flickered through the hair that covered Ranuga’s broad chest, and his hands slowly worked the shirt up. His pecs were firm, his abs rippling when he sneered at Rob. His shirt raised slowly, and Ranuga’s frustration drained away while Rob slurped up the filth clinging to his chest hair, then his armpit hair. When the shirt was close enough to Ranuga’s nose to make it impossible for him to ignore the scent, Ranuga snarled in frustration and took the shirt off completely. He tossed it on the floor.
“You take forever, mate,” Ranuga said with a grunt. He was starting to get hard and wanted to finish this off quickly. Plus he didn’t want it to be obvious he had gotten hard before Rob touched his cock directly — it would look too freaky to get hard now. But Ranuga loved nippleplay.
So he lifted his ass and again removed his own trackpants. Rob took them from him and did it instead. He pulled them and his boxers down in one smooth motion, revealing a big brown uncut cock, already throbbing and stiffly floppy, just beginning to get hard. It was uncut, thick as a bottle of cider.
“Hmmmm…” Rob smiled and got down to business. He put the entire thing in his mouth at once, since it was obvious Ranuga didn’t want to dilly-dally. He tasted spicy with a peppery, grassy taste, like licking a lawnmower covered in salt, Rob thought. It made his lips pucker and his throat clench around Ranuga’s shaft.
A jolt of pleasure visibly wracked Ranuga’s cock, which twitched. Ranuga sucked in his breath. “Damn! Blood ‘ell, mate…” he murmured. He lifted his ass as though to stand, but he only leaned forward, pushing his meat deeper into Rob’s throat. That triggered a potent gag that exploded from deep within Rob, who choked out a wad of saliva that ran down Ranuga’s shaft and wetted his silky bush.
But he kept on it. That cock quickly firmed up until it was as hard as his thighs, which were like tree-trunks. Rob gripped them and produced as much spit on Ranuga’s cock as he could. He slurped his spit right back up and spat it out to run down Ranuga’s shaft to his balls.
“Ah, bloody ‘ell, oh fuck…” Ranuga’s voice became deeper as Rob’s mouth moved down his shaft, and then to his sac.
Just like the rest of his body, Ranuga’s crotch was very hairy, and his balls initially looked disappointingly small. But that was only because they were buried in his unkempt nest of pubic hair, and when Rob started slurping and slathering spit all over them, his hair became matted and those full, luscious balls filled Rob’s mouth.
“You wanna ram me?” Rob asked with a sultry giggle when Ranuga’s eyes opened wide.
Ranuga nodded and blushed again, his face now a blackish-red beneath his beard. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
So Rob mounted his body, using his hairy chest for support — which made his muscles ripple beneath Rob’s fingers — as he sat his ass down on Ranuga’s cock. There was a brief burst of pain before Rob’s ass loosened up enough to accommodate every inch of Ranuga’s throbbing member. The pain was replaced with a wave of pleasure when Ranuga’s knob hit his prostate. Rob threw his head back and begged for more.
His eyes opened when his dick slid in. Ranuga had never done it up behind, not even with a woman, so he was astonished at how easily it happened. This was all going down so quickly, he thought. He kept his hands behind his head because he didn’t want to accidentally touch Rob’s cock — and he felt sure if he didn’t move his hands out of the way, he would instinctively reach for Rob’s breasts, which of course he didn’t have.
Ranuga did piston his hips up and down once he got started, and he groaned loudly. He tried to muffle the sound out of concern someone would hear what was going on in here, but he couldn’t help himself. Shivers of pleasure ran up his spine and made it hard to think about anything else.
“Oh holy shit, mate,” Ranuga said, his voice soft but so loud and baritone for the moment that it resonated in Rob’s ears. Ranuga found his hands moving of their own accord, away from his head and to Rob’s ass.
He gripped Rob’s bare cheeks with a sense of wonder — he couldn’t believe he was doing it, touching a man’s bare ass as his cock slid into it.
And he was enjoying it! He had thought, before this began, that he would just lay here and let Rob service him. He pictured himself thinking about other things, maybe even getting drunk first. But that hadn’t happened, and he couldn’t think about other things because this felt too good. A wave of pleasure fell over him, making Ranuga gurgle and murmur, hands turning into fists that clawed at the air in front of him.
It felt better than any woman. He held onto Rob’s ass and lifted himself up. His angle was awkward, and he only used his elbows, not his hands, so it took every muscle in his great hairy body.
But soon he was crouched on the bed, Rob bent way over in front of him with his ass high. That was the perfect angle to ram in and out with all his might, sending waves of pleasure through him and also stimulating Rob’s prostate — not that Ranuga knew that.
So Rob reached his orgasm even before Ranuga. “Oh bloody ‘ell, stick it in me, Ranuga! Stick it in me!” He cried out into the blanket on top of the bed, and his hands gripped the cloth tightly. When he finally touched his cock, a jolt of unspeakable bliss wracked his body so hard it hurt, and his ass clenched.
Cum sprayed over his hand and onto the blanket, covering the bed with his spooge. It was good that Ranuga was about to cum, because within a few seconds it smelled so strongly of semen in here that Ranuga would have had trouble staying hard — he very strongly disliked that smell.
His white beard hairs quivered as Ranuga moaned and pressed down on Rob’s back. He grunted. His hot breath condensed on the back of Rob’s neck.
Then, at last, cum flowed into him. There was a great river of it, more and more continuing to flow, while Ranuga threw his head back and howled. He no longer cared about getting caught or about his teammates thinking he was poor.
There was nothing he could do about that stuff. This asshole, he thought, was something he could handle.
He grimaced, veins throbbing against the skin of his neck. He couldn’t believe how good that had been or how long it had taken — and he even got paid for it! He licked his lips.
Then Ranuga withdrew, his limpening dick sliding out and making Rob shudder with remnants of his climax.
Ranuga took a deep breath. “You better pay me. Six hundred pounds.”
“I will,” Rob said. He reached for the trousers he had dropped on the floor. But he was too tired, his legs and ass sore, to get down and pick up the wallet in the pocket. “You can get all the cash out of there. It’s like six hundred and ten pounds.”
Ranuga didn’t want to look desperate, so he nonchalantly picked up the trousers and found the wallet. His sticky cock was stuck to his thigh. Rob watched the moisture sparkle and evaporate on it.
He was glad to see the money was there. It was actually six hundred and thirteen pounds. A bonus, Ranuga thought as he pocketed it. “If anyone asks, you’re my bookie.”
Rob shrugged. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone anything though. I practice discretion, and I’m going to Indonesia tomorrow.”
Ranuga was relieved. He felt Rob’s eyes peering over him as he put his clothes back on. He was sweaty — and of course that tee shirt was even sweatier — which made him self-conscious. But he couldn’t hardly deny doing the same thing when his girlfriends dressed in front of him. He wondered if they felt the same way about it.
He did turn and wave his dick at Rob’s face before tucking it away. He smirked and took a deep breath. “Thanks,” he said. “I needed that.”
“Me too,” Rob said as Ranuga walked out the door, trying to be unobtrusive in case any of his players were around. Rob just leaned back and sprawled out on the bed, which still had the spicy Sri Lankan flavor of Ranuga’s mansweat.
He was beginning to appreciate the sport of cricket.