The Marine Bottoms

Moshe often stumbles across Marines and cadets from the nearby base, so when one of each approaches his door, he wasn’t surprised. A cadet and his drill sergeant are in desperate need of something only Moshe can provide — a chance for the studly cadet to prove his devotion by bending over, grabbing his ankles and whistling dixie while Moshe goes to town all over his alpha-male ass!

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The Megillah was even more difficult to get right this year. Every year, Moshe found that he struggled a bit more to get the pronunciation right and to nail the rhythm of it — he didn’t speak Hebrew that well, much to his shame, and now that he no longer lived in Israel, he was losing his memory of the language. But every year during Purim, his family had him read the Megillah (that’s the same thing as the Bible’s Book of Esther and is part of the Tanakh whose recitation during the holy season of Purim is required for observant Jews; Purim is a March holiday that commemorates the Jews’s deliverance from certain genocide in the ancient Persian Empire). It was a sort of family tradition.
If Moshe had gotten married and had a child or two, his family would have had his kid begin reading the Megillah, or at least a few brief segments of it as he learned Hebrew. But Moshe had no desire for a child and seemed likely to remain a perpetual bachelor. That was exactly how he liked it.
That was why it remained his increasingly awkward duty to recite the Megillah every year.
There was a knock on the door. Moshe sighed and went to see who it was — if it was his NRA-loving, conservative neighbor with another gun-rights pamphlet, he was going to file a harassment complaint. He had promised himself that before as well, but he didn’t like to make waves, and it was always simpler just to take him at his word that he wouldn’t be back.
But it wasn’t that neighbor at all, it was the neighbor from the house on the other side, Sergeant Powers. Moshe didn’t see that much of him. He was from Camp Pendleton, the Marine Corps training facility here in San Diego. While Sergeant Powers was not exactly “nice”, he was always polite. Moshe rather liked him, certainly compared to the other neighbor.
It helped, of course, that Sergeant Powers was a big burly bear of a man, with muscles and a square jaw and so much swagger that Moshe nearly came in his pants the first time he had spied Powers lifting weights shirtless in his backyard. Today he was here, bright and early in the morning, with a younger man in tow.
The younger man was just as alluring as Powers and arguably even more sexy in a classic sense. The cadet had a Hollywood-handsome dimpled face, kind eyes and it was apparent he sported a six-pack under his t-shirt. Sergeant Powers was a bit older, with a few tinges of gray in his crewcut, and while he still had the body of a Marine, it showed notable wear and tear. The younger cadet was smooth, pert and taut, with dark hair and skin, an olive complexion and deep, dark eyes.
As Moshe opened the door, he realized the younger man looked like a cadet — he wore a crew-cut and a faded green t-shirt with short shorts, both of which appeared to be Marine Corps-issued. They were wrinkled as though he had been roused from bed early in the morning to come here.
“Shalom, Moshe,” Sergeant Powers said. He smiled. Moshe had taught him the word ‘shalom’ a few weeks ago, and now he used it every chance he got. “This is Cadet Pucci. He has a favor to ask you. May we come in?”
“Uh… I suppose,” Moshe said. He led them into his living room, where they both sat down. The situation was tense — Sergeant Powers appeared angry, enough so that Moshe wondered if he had done something wrong. Cadet Pucci, however, looked upset and guilty, as though it was he who had done something wrong. Moshe felt small and girlish in comparison to these two hulking brutes. Moshe cleared his throat. “A favor? I’m sorry, do I know you, Cadet… Antonio?”
Cadet Pucci shook his head. His face was worried, his dimples deep. He licked his lips. “Name’s Cadet Pucci, sir. I was askin’ Sarge here, man, I was-” He stopped talking and winced as Sergeant Powers cleared his throat. Cadet Pucci started again, his voice stilted and awkward. “Good morning, sir. I was hoping I could get your assistance this morning. I am a cadet at Camp Pendleton, and I need a day off-“
“The fuck you do!” Sergeant Powers barked.
Cadet Pucci again blanched and looked down at his feet. “I don’t need a day off. I want one. I’m a lazy guido bastard,” he said, looking to Powers as though expecting him to confirm it — he nodded his assent to Pucci’s words. Then Cadet Pucci continued. “I already had some leave, two weeks ago. And I met this girl. She was beautiful, you wouldn’t even believe it, she looked like, bam! She-” Cadet Pucci stopped himself, his hands fluttered by his sides like he wanted to mime out the silhouette of her body. He cleared his throat. “Well, she was hot as a frying pan, shit! And she’s moving to Georgia, so tonight is the last time I might see her. And I asked my sergeant if I could move a day of leave up. I wouldn’t even have to miss any training, I could leave at night-“
“Tell him why I said no,” Sergeant Powers said gruffly. He placed one hand on Cadet Pucci’s shoulder and squeezed.
“I… I have not always been followin’ the rules,” Cadet Pucci said. “I snuck out before. That was just to get laid though. I didn’t love that girl.”
“You don’t love any girl,” Sergeant Powers said with a scoff, like he disbelieved in the entire concept.
“I do!” Cadet Pucci said as his cheeks blushed. He looked to Moshe. “And anyway, Sergeant Powers said I had to prove I loved her and I wasn’t just after sex.”
“I may be a hardass, but I ain’t gonna stand in the way of true love,” Sergeant Powers said, mockingly wiping a tear from his eye. “Cadet Pucci skipped over a few details. He tried to sneak out for trim four times — that I know of. I caught him each time, so he been skatin’ on very thin ice for some time. He has been one mouthy fuck since the day his wop-dago ass got here.”
“So… uh,” Cadet Pucci said. “If you want… you don’t have to, sir. But, uh, if you want… we could, y’know… do stuff.” His cheeks were red as cherries now. “Like… masturbation stuff.” That made Powers snort and laugh under his breath. Cadet Pucci added, “Or like, whatever. I could do stuff — it’d be worth it to do, you know… whatever. Like cornholing.”
“What?” Moshe was shocked — he had thought Cadet Pucci was going to ask for a ride or for help finding the local girl, something like that. Sometimes cadets at the military base did that. Moshe liked to help them out when he could.
And he liked to help them out when they let him play with their dicks, which they very often did. Nobody is hornier than a Marine at boot camp. Or not yet a Marine, an almost-Marine.
“He’ll do anything you want, Moshe,” Sergeant Powers said. “I want to see how devoted he is to this girl. Plus as long as he gets his rocks off now, I’ll now he ain’t motivated by overflowing balls neither.” He looked at Cadet Pucci and nodded. “Go on, tell him.”
Cadet Pucci sighed. “I’ll… jerk you off, and you can plow me in the ass as hard as you want.” He blushed intensely. Then he took off his shirt, revealing a perfectly tapered torso and a powerful chest, which he flexed. He smiled proudly, though still shamefully, as Moshe looked on. He was splendidly muscled, his shoulders as broad as a barn, and he reeked of youth and sweat and power. Moshe’s dick was already twitching in his pants.
“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Sergeant Powers said.
Moshe nodded. This was awkward, but he certainly was not going to refuse such an incredible opportunity. He wasn’t sure how to begin, and now that he knew what was happening, he couldn’t stop himself from jumping right into it. His dick jerked to half-mast just from the realization of what was about to happen.
After a few seconds of silence, Cadet Pucci closed his eyes like he expected Moshe to get started, which was exactly what he did. Moshe dropped to his knees.
He dove into Cadet Pucci’s crotch before he could drop those shorts, which were musty, moist and sprinkled with dried salt from Cadet Pucci’s sweat. He must have been doing PT in these shorts for weeks, Moshe thought, wondering how long it had been since they were washed. It smelled like a long-time. He tasted layers of dried-in funk. His thick cock and heavy balls were cradled beneath the fabric by his Marine Corps-issued underwear. Moshe licked the bulge from top to bottom, and stuck his head between Cadet Pucci’s trunk-like thighs. Sergeant Powers laughed, either out of discomfort or glee at Cadet Pucci’s stiff-bodied anxiety.
“At attention, solider!” Powers barked. Cadet Pucci stood straight and tall, arms trembling as Moshe’s hands explored his bare upper body. His pecs twitched beneath Moshe’s fingers. Additional beads of nervous sweat appeared on his shoulders, and Moshe smeared them over his musculature.
Horniness arising from deep within and overwhelming him, Moshe wanted desperately to taste every inch of Cadet Pucci’s body and to feel his cock deep inside him. But Moshe also enjoyed topping, and he knew he’d never get a chance to top someone like this again. So he was in a quandary about how to proceed — he decided his best bet was to help Cadet Pucci relax a little by swallowing his cumload first. This would be better for everyone if Cadet Pucci were aroused too, and a virile young Marine like Cadet Pucci would surely cum quickly.
Moshe pulled down Cadet Pucci’s shorts and underwear, whistling to show his appreciation at Pucci’s big uncut cock — alphas loved it when you pretended they had some uniquely huge and wonderful cock. Pucci’s was in fact huge and wonderful, but then Moshe liked all dicks, so it wasn’t unique. Still, the smell of his rank crotch and his heavy balls made Moshe wrinkle his nose as desire flooded him, and Moshe’s dick rocketed to full erection in his pants. Without a word of warning, Moshe swallowed it to the root, as Cadet Pucci gasped and struggled to remain at attention.
“That girl worth it, Cadet Pucci?” Sergeant Powers asked. From his vantage point, Moshe couldn’t see or hear Cadet Pucci’s response, but it must have been yes, judging from the way Powers grunted back at him. Then Cadet Pucci’s entire body stiffened even more, and he yelped. Moshe saw Sergeant Powers’s hand disappearing behind Moshe’s ass.
“You got a tight ass, Cadet. That must be why all the girls like you,” Powers said. He smirked and licked his teeth as he did something with his hand that made Cadet Pucci gasp, bug out and clench his teeth tight.
He must have stuck a finger in there, Moshe realized with a sense of shock. Cadet Pucci’s toes curled and his hands tightened into fists behind his back as he submitted to the fingering. But the prostate stimulation helped him get hard too, and soon his cock was pulsating in Moshe’s mouth.
The taste of precum hit Moshe’s tongue. Above his head, he heard Sergeant Powers get close enough he was nearly kissing Moshe on the cheek. He spoke softly but with an authoritarian tenor to his voice. “That girl still worth it?” He violently rammed his finger — or maybe more than one finger, Moshe couldn’t see — in and out of Cadet Pucci’s juicy asscheeks. Cadet Pucci yelped and blushed, and for a moment he wasn’t at attention, he was leaning on Moshe’s shoulder, his knees buckling as pain and prostate pleasure alike rocketed up his spine.
“Yes,” Cadet Pucci said through gritted teeth. His muscles undulated in sync with his sergeant’s finger ramming into his asshole. His muscles all flexed every time he winced. He bit his lip. “I have to see her this weekend. I love her. Sir.”
Moshe stood and took off his own clothes. He felt tiny next to these two hulking men. Moshe was short, fair-haired and smooth-bodied, lean and trim. He had always been skinny, and though he had been working on bulking up, he simply didn’t have the body type to get big. That was very much unlike Cadet Pucci, whose broad body and fat cock seemed to take up all of the space in this room.
“Gimme one of your hands, Cadet Pucci,” Moshe said as authoritatively as he could muster. Sergeant Powers chuckled at the weak tenor of his voice, and he repeated the order.
“Give ‘im a hand, Cadet Pucci.”
Cadet Pucci did so, gingerly placing his hand on Moshe’s cock. He shrank back as soon as he touched it, as though he had never touched a hard dick before. Then he gripped it again and gave it a tentative stroke.
Moshe had to stand on his toes to kiss Cadet Pucci on the lips, which he did even as Cadet Pucci kept his face straight and stony, so it was like kissing a warm statue. Moshe’s tongue pushed into Pucci’s mouth — on one level, it was a bad kiss, Pucci’s tongue was limp and still like a dead rooster, but on the other level, it was warm and nervous and oh-so-macho. Moshe didn’t mind the lack of passion, as he rather enjoyed the roughness of Pucci’s fingers and the shamefully aroused passion of his body, which still stood at attention. He wasn’t even really stroking Moshe’s cock anymore, he just held onto it loosely while Moshe humped his manhood into Cadet Pucci’s grip. It took all of Pucci’s focus to remain at attention with Sarge’s finger in his tight ass and Pucci’s own hand on Moshe’s precum-soaked cock.
Then Moshe leapt into Pucci’s arms and mounted his chest. Cadet Pucci grunted in surprise and nearly fell over, but he was strong enough to support Moshe even without preparing for it first. He looked down in shock at the sight of Moshe’s hard dick on Pucci’s gym-toned torso, spewed precum over his six-pack abs.
Scooting up Pucci’s trunk-like chest, Moshe let his dick rest between those mountainous pecs, which were still hard from the tension and the pain in his ass. Now that his head was over Pucci’s body, Moshe could see Sergeant Powers’s cruel smile as he wedged a second finger into Pucci’s asshole. His cheeks jiggled marvelously.
Using Pucci’s head for support, Moshe climbed up even farther, until his crotch was right in Pucci’s face. His dick leaked fluids over his nose and cheeks, and Cadet Pucci trembled as he tried hard to avoid gagging.
“This still worth it, Cadet?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Pucci’s voice was pinched and strained, and muffled by the cockshaft pulsating against his lips. He gagged as the taste of cock flooded his senses.
Moshe struggled to get his dick into Pucci’s mouth from this angle. He had to angle his hips outward, and Cadet Pucci had to support his ass with both hands, but when he did, Cadet Pucci swallowed his entire cock easily. He was a big man, so he had a big throat. Even as it spasmed and choked on the flavor, and Cadet Pucci blushed intensely, he let Moshe’s dick enter his throat. He swallowed it down deep, until his nose was nestled in Moshe’s crotch.
A moan escaped from Moshe’s lips, as Antonio gagged. Cadet Pucci had that thick lustrous dark hair that Italian men were known for. It was cut into a short Marine Corps crew-cut, but it was obvious that he had perfect politician’s-hair when he let it grow out. Moshe gripped his head, savoring the rolls of flesh in the back of his scalp as he shoved his dick down the man’s spasming throat.
From this vantage point, Moshe saw Sergeant Powers’s hand in Pucci’s ass. He smiled at Moshe, who threw his head back and moaned, and Sergeant Powers slowly worked a second finger in. Cadet Pucci bucked and he nearly fell over again, but managed to stay standing, despite the series of gags wracking his throat.
“Keep at attention, Cadet!”
It didn’t take very much for Moshe to feel his orgasm coming. He didn’t want to end like this, without plowing Cadet Pucci in the tight Italian ass, so he hopped down from the man’s shoulders. Pucci’s entire face was moist with precum and his own saliva, which dripped from his lips — he couldn’t wipe his face off without breaking his posture, so he remained there with his wrinkled-nose face shiny, manfluids running in rivulets down his square jaw.
“Gimme twenty!” Moshe said, and after a moment’s hesitation to consider whether to obey, Cadet Pucci dropped to the ground.
He began doing push-ups, counting them off as Sarge put one hand on his bare back to guide him. As he did so, Moshe mounted Pucci’s ass, just wedging his dick between the cheeks for now. Antonio struggled to keep going with the push-ups now that he had Moshe’s weight on his back. His firm back muscles flexed beneath Moshe’s smooth body.
“One!” Sergeant Powers said as he watched Cadet Pucci struggle to get his push-ups right. “I ain’t countin’ these granny-push-ups, Cadet. Do ’em properly!”
Cadet Pucci began doing push-ups much more slowly with Moshe’s weight on his back. He grunted and heaved with each motion. His powerful biceps worked up and down.
“C’mon, Cadet, don’t give up!” Sergeant Powers barked. He got on his knees right in front of Pucci’s face and demanded he keep going. Pucci’s back muscles strained, covered in sweat.
As Cadet Pucci struggled to finish his push-ups, Moshe again had to work on his angle so he could penetrate the cadet. He lowered his body until his cock lined up with Pucci’s ass, then he managed to get the tip of his dick in while still resting his body on Pucci’s ass. Instantly, Cadet Pucci dropped to the floor, gritting his teeth with pain. He squirmed there.
“Get up, Cadet! You fuckin’ pussy! If you can’t finish these push-ups, I swear to Christ you’ll never do a push-up without a cock in your ass again!”
Cadet Pucci struggled back to supporting himself on his arms and legs, while Moshe worked his dick in deeper, rocking his body back and forth to help it slide in. Pucci’s hole had been loosened a bit by Sarge’s fingers, but it was still so tight Moshe though he might cum from the moment he entered. The squeeziness of his booty sent waves of pleasure to crash through Moshe’s twink frame.
“He keepin’ hisself open how you want it, Moshe?” Sergeant Powers asked.
“Yeah, Sarge,” Moshe said. “He’s doin’ good.” That was when Moshe noticed that Powers had a bulge in his shorts too. Moshe reached for that bulge without giving it a second thought, and blushed when Sergeant Powers smiled.
“Stick it in me…” Moshe said, his voice weak and breathless as he worked to hold back his orgasm. He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Pucci’s ass, letting it throb there,
Powers grinned. He smacked Pucci’s ass and laughed at how the motion made him writhe and flex every muscle on his powerful body. Then Sergeant Powers got behind Moshe and pulled his shorts down.
He rammed his dick in hard and grunted as it melted right in. Moshe was well-practiced at taking huge cocks like his — and at taking Powers’s cock specifically — so he gritted his teeth and submitted to it. He dug his nails into Pucci’s broad back as he loosened himself up. He lost himself in the exquisite sandwich of Marine meat both in front and behind him.
Cadet Pucci stopped doing push-ups. Nobody was counting anymore, but Moshe was fairly sure he had hit at least twenty — though Sergeant Powers had refused to count many of them. Regardless, Cadet Pucci lay flat on the ground now, grunting with every thrust of Moshe’s dick and yelping when Powers thrust into Moshe, which forced Moshe to penetrate Cadet Pucci even harder.
Moshe felt like a bug being squashed between two large stone statues. Powers, however, was a bit soft — he was bigger than Cadet Pucci, but older, hairier and less perfectly etched. Moshe was fine with that. While he certainly appreciated the Hollywood-handsome good lucks of Cadet Pucci, he enjoyed the burly hairiness of Sergeant Powers as well.
As Moshe neared orgasm, he rested his face in Pucci’s broad, sweat-covered back. He licked his strapping muscles. Above him, Powers did much the same, resting his weight partially on his knees but also on Moshe. That put Powers’s head above Moshe and near Pucci’s ruddy, wincing face.
“You like this, Cadet?”
“Sir, no, sir!”
“Good,” Powers said. He laughed as he licked Pucci’s earlobe, making Cadet Pucci shudder in humiliation and agony. Moshe managed to get one of his hands under Pucci’s body, and was surprised to feel a rock-hard cock — he must really enjoy prostate stimulation, Moshe thought. He stroked Pucci’s dick the best he could, and Cadet Pucci began humping his hips instinctively.
“Tell me when you feel cum in yer ass,” Sergeant Powers said. When Cadet Pucci winced and looked away, he repeated himself. “I wanna cum at the same time. So tell me.”
It looked like Cadet Pucci didn’t want to acknowledge the feeling of semen in his ass, but he nodded anyway. As Moshe felt his orgasm approach, Powers lifted both Cadet Pucci and Moshe, so all three were on their knees. Moshe was still sandwiched between the huge men on both sides of him, and Moshe barely even moved himself, allowing both men’s powerful bodies to provide all the motion. Moshe just licked and sucked on the taut muscles all around him.
In the end, Cadet Pucci acknowledged it even before Moshe had realized he was cumming. His orgasm washed over his body and made him shudder with delight. His spine was wracked by exquisite pain from his ass, which mingled with the pleasure he felt all over. Hot cum sprayed within Pucci’s asshole.
Then, a few seconds later, both Cadet Pucci and Sergeant Powers shot their own load. Powers had a huge wad that sunk into every corner of Moshe’s body, while Cadet Pucci bucked and gagged when he shot his load into the palm of Moshe’s waiting hand.
While all three dicks limpened, Moshe raised his handful of steaming cum to Pucci’s mouth. Cadet Pucci gagged again, and winced, still in pain from Moshe’s dick in his ass.
“Open your mouth, Cadet,” Sergeant Powers said. “Still worth it?”
Cadet Pucci opened his mouth. “Absolutely worth it, Sarge.” Moshe emptied the cumload into Pucci’s mouth, and sighed as Pucci’s ass clenched around his cock once more. Cadet Pucci choked and gagged down every drop.
And then it was at last over. Powers dismounted Moshe, who pulled away from Pucci’s naked, moist body. Cadet Pucci collapsed onto the ground, but only for a moment before Sergeant Powers barked at him to get up.
“Up, Cadet, at attention!”
Pucci’s ass was in terrible pain, so his knees buckled, but he managed to stand at attention. His limp dick hung between his legs. Moshe giggled as he stroked it and got a few nervous shakes from Pucci’s body, tensing his muscles again as his overly sensitive dick throbbed in Moshe’s fingers.
Moshe smiled. “I guess his love is true, Sarge,” he said.
Sarge nodded. “I sure thought he’d back out,” he said. “Alright, Cadet Pucci, you can have your leave, and I won’t charge you for conduct unbecoming.”
Cadet Pucci gasped. “Thank you, Sergeant Powers,” he said, then added, “And Moshe, thank you too.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps when I want an extra night off in the future-“
“Absolutely-” Moshe said, but was interrupted by Sergeant Powers.
“No way, Cadet. Next time, you submit to me,” Powers said with a grin.

The Apia Alpha

When Lance goes through a bad breakup, he never thought his neighbor the Samoan rugby player would console him like this! That’s because Poahi wants to explore the world of twink on top!

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Lance had smoked weed a few times but not often, and he had never enjoyed it. It sometimes gives him a headache, and sometimes he doesn’t even get really stoned, just sleepy. It just wasn’t his bag. He never sought it out until today.
And even that was only because he was upset. His girlfriend dumped him, completely out of the blue. Lance cried himself to sleep as he wondered if he’d be forever truly alone. In the morning, he woke up and immediately decided he wanted to get high. Maybe that, he thought, would put him in a good mood. It helped that his only easy source of weed was smoking with his neighbor, which had its perks.
Lance’s neighbor was a massively muscular man with an excellent physique that Lance often admired. He was Poahi, a Samoan immigrant who had played professional rugby for half a season before getting kicked off the team for failing a drug test — rugby fans called him the “Titan of Apia”, referring to the capital city of Samoa. Poahi didn’t care, it seemed, rugby was his ticket to an American work visa, which he now had and could use. Now that he was here, he had little need for rugby. He was nearly seven feet tall, brimming with muscle and swagger. But he wasn’t cocky at all, he was just confident in his body and his masculinity, and he was stoned all the time.
That was not an exaggeration. Lance smelled weed wafting into his apartment from next-door about twenty minutes after Poahi first moved in. He literally hadn’t moved anything in besides his bong and a lighter. He was taking bong hits before he had a chair to sit in.
And now for the first time in his life, Lance wanted to join him in that.
He wondered if that was a sign of a burgeoning addiction, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to feel better. That was why, this morning, he waited to hear the sounds of Poahi getting up — he always had a cup of tea first thing in the morning, and Lance could hear his kettle whistle.
When he heard that shrill whistle, Lance went over and knocked on the door.
“Hey, hā, mate,” Poahi said, bleary-eyed from his early morning rise (it was nine o’clock, which for Poahi was very early). He wore nothing but a pair of shorts and sandals, his gigantic chest heaving as he drank coconut milk from the carton. A few driblets of coconut milk ran down his powerful torso. He was nearly seven feet tall, so Lance had to crane his neck to make eye contact with him.
“Suzanne dumped me!” Lance hadn’t meant to blurt that out and come across as an overly emotional weakling.
Poahi was definitely uncomfortable. He ran his fingers through his thick curly hair, which he let grow into an unmanageably dense Polynesian-afro. He frowned, his jovial brownness suddenly awkward and tense. But despite his obvious desire to get away from this conversation, he did submit to listening as Lance explained — in entirely too many words — the entire course of his relationship with Suzanne, which had ended badly yesterday. Poahi acted as though this was the first time he’d heard of Suzanne, which was incorrect. His memory was subpar.
“And so apparently she was still mad about all that stupid bullshit drama from like a year ago!”
“Oh, uh, wow, I’m sorry to hear that. Shitty as, mate,” Poahi said. His lilting accent was deep and resonant, rumbling on account of his huge body and low voice. He had that typical alpha-male reluctance to acknowledge any feelings, so he stood awkwardly in his doorway. He leaned against the threshold clutching a now-empty carton of coconut milk in his hand. It was a huge bottle, but since his hand was so big it looked miniature to Lance’s eyes.
“I was just… I could use some weed,” Lance said. “I don’t feel like getting a prescription. And I’ll probably just do it one time, just today, so there’s no point in buying a bong myself or anything.”
“Oh, you want some weed?” He sounded a little unsure, like he didn’t want to give it up.
“I, uh… I’ll pay for it,” he said. “And I’d like you to show me how. I mean, I know sort of. But not really.”
Poahi nodded and shrugged. “Okay,” he said. “Come on in. I was just about to wake-and-bake, mate.”
He had a typical bachelor apartment. His clothes were scattered over the floor — and they were huge clothes since he was a giant, so they took up a lot of space. His living room was dominated by a weight set, which smelled of sweat, and the zesty funk of it made Lance aroused. Lance adored the male form, and Poahi’s form was highly appreciable. Poahi had to stoop to fit his bigness through the doorway, and his body was so broad he barely fit in his kitchen.
As Poahi finished putting together his breakfast in the kitchen, Lance told him all about the breakup. It didn’t sound like Poahi was listening, but it felt good to say it all out loud regardless. Verbalizing problems had a way of putting them in perspective.
Poahi ate five eggs and six links of sausage for breakfast, and he finished another entire bottle of coconut milk. He ate like an athlete too, shoveling food in his mouth as though it was going to escape if he didn’t eat quickly. He smacked his lips and chewed with his mouth open, snorting as he swallowed like a feral hog, as though it took every muscle in his cavernous body to eat. He listened — or pretended to listen — as Lance told him stories of the better times between him and Suzanne.
When Poahi was done eating, he looked significantly more awake and less bleary-eyed. He sat down on his ratty old couch, tossing an enormous pair of jeans aside to make room for himself. He grabbed a tall green glass bong, which was shaped like a dancing hula lady.
He pointed to the hitter, which was still packed up from the night before. “Okay, you light this bit right here as you inhale from the bong part, then when your lungs are starting to feel full, put the lighter down and pull the stem out — that’s what you call this bit, the stem — and inhale the last of the smoke that’s in the shaft.” He demonstrated. It looked simple when he did it.
Lance shivered with sexual tension. He was horny because of the recent breakup and because Poahi’s physique was in even condition than usual today. He looked like he had recently gotten a pump on, even though he just got up moments ago. The fluid movement of his muscles as he inhaled was arousing, as though it took every ounce of strength he had to light and inhale from the bong. He pursed his lips as he took his bong hit, like he was kissing the smoke inside the bong.
He passed the bong to Lance, holding the breath in his lungs for what felt like a long time — maybe normal for such a big man, but it sure seemed incredible to Lance. The fragrant smell of weed filled the room when he finally exhaled. A long puff of smoke filled the air.
Lance had taken precisely one bong hit in his life before this. He had embarrassed himself at a party by not knowing how to do it many years before. But he had seen it a million times since then, mainly when visiting Suzanne’s brother, who was a daily smoker. Suzanne loved her brother hated weed, which was why they had never partaken together.
He coughed before taking the bong away from his mouth, which meant he spewed bong water through the stem. It sprayed over the multi-stained couch.
“Whoah, party foul, mate,” Poahi said, though he didn’t really seem all that concerned. “Take a small hit, since it is your first time and you are small.” He held up his hand with two of his fingers about a half-inch apart.
Astringent tears twinkled in Lance’s eyes — this weed was much harsher than that bong hit he had taken before, and it was way stronger than the handful of joints he had smoked with a former girlfriend. The taste was acrid and intense.
But it wasn’t bad. It hurt his lungs, but he did feel a mental lightening.
Lance tried again, this time barely lighting the weed for a second before pulling the lighter away. He managed to finish the hit, and he got a lungful of smoke. He sighed as he exhaled. This one was much smoother, smaller, less painful. He felt like he manipulated the bong correctly.
“Hold the smoke in as long as you can,” Poahi said, taking the bong back from him. He emptied the hitter and packed it up. As he did, he smiled at Lance’s watery eyes and pained expression. “That hurt, man?”
“A bit.”
“Good. That means you will get real high,” Poahi said in his pitchy Samoan accent. “It’ll make you forget all about that Suzanne, mate. Fuck her.”
Lance burst into a sob that he tried to hold back a sob, and he blushed. He really wasn’t crying because he was so emotional, it was mainly the weed in his eyes and the potent smoke still in his lungs, though the reminder of the breakup didn’t help. But it must have looked to Poahi like he had made Lance cry.
“Oh, sorry, mate. I should not have said anything.”
“No, no problem, it’s okay,” Lance said. “I don’t even really care, not really. I was thinking about dumping her anyway. I just feel like an idiot for not realizing this was coming. Have you ever felt like that?”
Poahi shook his head as he took a hit. Then, with his lungs still full, his voice deep yet nasal, he said, “I have never been dumped, not by a serious girlfriend or anything.”
“Really?”
“Nope. Only person who ever dumped me and made me cry was… well, I was young then.”
“High school sweetheart?” Lance took the bong and lit it. This time his hit was much more practiced and fluid, and he coughed, but wasn’t in a lot of pain. It didn’t look so amateurish.
“Sort of. I was in school, back in Apia. She wasn’t, she was older,” Poahi said. He paused as though there was more to the story that he wasn’t saying.
“Did you love her?”
“No,” he said as though the answer should have been obvious. “She was… A lot of the guys in my school rammed her.”
“Ah. So she was kind of a slut?”
He shrugged. “I guess so. It wasn’t like that. She was…” Poahi sighed. “She was a fa’afinafe.”
“… What?”
“It’s a Samoan thing. She was a, well… We call her a woman. But she was really a man,” he said as he exhaled. “She was…”
“A man who lived as a woman?”
“Yeah. We call them fa’afafine. Her name was Kekepovi, and I felt alofa for her,” Poahi said. “Do not tell no one, okay? Only Polys understand.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Nobody knows how to make a cock feel better than someone who has one,” Lance said. He declined his next bong hit, as his head was already swimming. He smiled. He felt much better now, and the breakup felt like the distant past.
“Hell yeah.” Poahi took one more big hit to finish the weed off in the stem, then put the bong down. “Can I tell you a secret? Something not even other Polys understand?”
“Okay.”
Poahi exhaled a huge plume of bluish smoke. He sighed with satisfaction. “Uh… She jerked me off a lot. And I put it in her ass.”
“Okay… That’s kinda what I assumed happened.”
“But that is not all. She…” He blushed and averted his eyes.
“She plowed you too?”
He winced. “Don’t put it like that.”
“Oh, sorry. I mean… she made love to you too.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Bloody hell, don’t put it like that either.”
“Sorry.”
“But yeah,” he shifted his weight on his couch.
“I know.”
“But it wasn’t bad.”
“Poahi… Do you want to do it again?” Lance asked. He didn’t really think too much about the question, he just saw an opportunity and went for it. He assumed Poahi was going to say no, and Lance was all set to pretend he had just been kidding.
But then Poahi did not say no.
There was a long pause. Poahi blushed and looked away, more bashful than Lance had ever seen him. He put down the bong and the lighter.
“I, uh… Just cuz you are so upset over the breakup,” Poahi said. “And you are so small, like she was. She was little too. Sorry, I mean… You are-” He snorted and pulled his shorts down without another word, revealing a huge cock, thick and jiggly with fat. It was uncut and veiny. “I never say no to starting the day with a nut.” A long throaty chuckle came outta his mouth.
Lance dropped to his knees, wanting to get started before Poahi changed his mind. Guys with a physique like Poahi never backed out once they got hard, he knew that from experience. He kissed the tip of Poahi’s cock, which instantly twitched against his lips.
“Aaah, yes, mate…” Poahi grumbled, and his bare chest muscles rippled. As Lance slurped on the tip of his dick, Poahi picked up his bong and took a long deep hit.
When he exhaled, letting out a long plume of smoke like a train engine, Lance licked a trail from the tip to the root of Poahi’s manhood. The taste was sunny and musty at the same time, reeking of Poahi’s unwashed manhood and his ratty old bachelor sheets.
“Ah, yeah…”
His dick twitched and swelled to attention beneath Lance’s lips, as Lance sent his hands creeping up Poahi’s bare chest to those gigantic, rugby-toned pecs, each one the size of volleyballs. His nipples puckered at his touch. His flesh was firm as rocks beneath his smooth skin.
Poahi leaned back on the couch and groaned, still holding the bong in one hand and his lighter in the other. He spread his legs so Lance could crawl between them. Poahi was so tall that the couch was awkward for him, and his ass barely fit on the cushion at all. Most of his chest and back extended above the back of the couch, and his knees angled up like he was in a booster seat.
His tongue slurping down Poahi’s fat, throbbing shaft, Lance moved lower and lower. He teased the root of Poahi’s sweaty cock. Then Lance let both of his big sweaty balls fall into his mouth, and he suckled loudly on them. He wasn’t entirely sure what Poahi was agreeing to, so Lance took it slow as he removed his own clothes. Poahi either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Did Poahi really mean it when he said “she” plowed him up the ass? That didn’t sound right. Maybe it was a translation problem, Lance thought, maybe that meant something different in Samoan.
But he wasn’t going to tempt fate by asking. Poahi had a marvelous manhood, and Lance was willing to do whatever with it that Poahi would agree to.
“Come on, let us sixty-nine,” Poahi said, sliding to lay on his back on the couch. He didn’t even come close to fitting — the entire length of his legs were raised to drape over the foot of the couch, and his head was still jammed up against the other end. It didn’t look particularly comfortable for him, but then he was so tall, he was probably used to furniture not fitting him, Lance thought as he climbed aboard the man’s mountainous chest. His muscles rippled beneath Lance’s body.
Lance giggled. “Uh… You were with that fay-aff-in-a-ffay when you were a lot shorter, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” Poahi said, realizing the problem — Lance was much too short to sixty-nine with Poahi. If Lance jerked Poahi’s cock, his own crotch would be above Poahi’s chest, lower than the nipples even, nowhere’s near close enough for Poahi to touch his dick.
But Lance thought it would be fun to try — he did want to swallow Poahi’s cock some more, and this would be a good first step to getting his dick in Poahi’s mouth, he thought. Poahi could get comfortable touching dick without having to really do much with it.
He mounted Poahi’s broad chest and took the tip of his cock in his mouth. Lance played with the head as he ground his cock between Poahi’s cavernous pecs. He let his spit dribble down Poahi’s long manhood, which was even bigger than it looked. It smelled of coconut and sea salt, and Lance’s mouth watered as he sucked it down as deep as he could get.
“Hmmm…”
Poahi growled and smacked his ass. He let his pinkie finger travel between Lance’s cheeks until it pushed into his asshole. Lance bent his back and moaned. His finger felt so good inside Lance that he was unable to focus on swallowing dick, so he just flopped its shaft against his face and panting tongue.
When Poahi spread his legs a bit and scooted his ass far as it would go to bare his hole, Lance got the impression he wanted Lance to finger his ass as well, but was too embarrassed to say it. So Lance didn’t stop licking on that massive meat as he crept his finger between Poahi’s sweaty thighs and past his hairy taint. His massive legs raised like wind turbines above Lance, who slurped spit all up and down Poahi’s shaft and his hefty ballsac.
Poahi had to lift his hips up a bit, but soon Lance was able to get his own index finger in the hole. As soon as he did, Poahi grunted and arched his back. Lance gripped both sides of his broad barrel belly as he jerked on that veiny brown shaft. Poahi’s ass was so thick and broad that Lance’s entire wrist fit between his cheeks just to get the tip of his finger in his hole.
“Uh, yeah, mate, that’s nice as…” Poahi said, his chest muscles quivering. Lance leaked precum between those meaty pecs, which he humped slowly — titty-fucking him, in a sense, Lance thought. Poahi actually had enough pec muscle that Lance could sort of do that.
It reminded him of Suzanne though, so Lance didn’t say anything. She fingered his ass too. He was into that, and she was willing to put up with it. She pretended she liked it, but she didn’t really like anything sexual. Lance was pretty sure she was asexual and was just willing to put up with sex if it was necessary. That was why she was willing to do most anything — none of it was any more or less appealing to her, so she might as well agree to whatever Lance wanted to do. What Lance wanted to do was have a woman who wanted to have sex.
And he wanted a man with a physique like Poahi on the side. Or in the relationship even! Lance didn’t care, he was fine with polyamory. But he worked for a staid accounting firm. It would be scandalous for him to do anything that wasn’t passionless penis-in-vagina sex, horizontal, in a bed with the lights off at night.
Lance and Poahi both lay there fingering each other. Lance writhed above the towering Polynesian’s body, which was big enough he could explore it for hours. He had had a six-pack when he was a professional athlete, but he wasn’t in training right now, so he had just a hint of flab over his otherwise flat belly. That was just enough for Lance, who didn’t like his men too chiseled. A physique was better when it had some heft to it.
It was apparent that Poahi liked prostate play more than Lance would have guessed. He gasped and grunted as he spread his own cheeks to help Lance get in there. When he tasted precum, Lance knew it was time to try something else before Poahi shot his load. Lance pulled off him and stood.
Much to his surprise, Poahi leaned off the couch, took Lance’s cock in hand and licked it. He winced and gagged a little but didn’t slow down as he deep-throated. He had a nice, loose throat that easily swallowed every inch of Lance’s meat. He showed no reaction as he gulped it down, sending a wave of pleasure up Lance’s spine. Poahi’s nose nuzzled Lance’s crotch.
“Oh, damn, Poahi, you really did learn a lot from that, f’af’a… f’affinafe?…”
“Fa’afafine.” He pulled off, still showing no reaction, even as his mouth overflowed with spit and the goopy cream of Lance’s precum.
Lance had intended to sit on his dick, but after Poahi returned to sucking down Lance’s cock, Poahi got off the couch. He had to stoop all the way down until he was nearly laying on the floor to line his mouth up with Lance’s dick. Lance gripped his rippling shoulder muscles as his knees went weak, bliss rushing up his body and his face blushed bright red.
But then Poahi pulled away and turned around, splaying his legs apart and spreading his asscheeks with both hands. Lance’s heart pounded as he realized he was going to get to plow Poahi.
That was not a mistranslation. That was what Poahi wanted. Lance’s eyes bugged out, already on the verge of orgasm.
“Stick it in me, mate…”
Lance pushed the tip of his dick in, and he sighed as warmth suffused his body. He couldn’t believe his luck in getting this gigantic bear, so soon after getting his heart broken. Poahi was tight and his whole body shook as Lance penetrated him.
His asshole was warm and tight, and it squeezed Lance’s manhood. Both of them gasped. Lance felt exquisite sensations wracking his body, and it took all of his concentration not to cum alredy.
He gasped and said something in Samoan as Lance began pushing his dick in and out. Again, Poahi’s size worked to his advantage — he simply had a large enough asshole that it didn’t seem to hurt all that much. His broad cheeks jiggled with each thrust of Lance’s dick. Poahi moaned, a low, deep sound — he was trying to keep his voice quiet, but he was the kind of person who had no whisper, not even when he was moaning.
Lance’s hands crept around Poahi’s body. He had to strain to reach Poahi’s crotch due to the man’s enormous size, but as soon as he did, Poahi twitched. His cock oozed precum in Lance’s grip.
Poahi’s back bucked as intense pleasure ran up his spine, and Lance ran his finger along to match the pre-orgasmic bliss. Lance kissed his muscles as he worked the last of his dick in, pushing it in and out.
They were moving in sync now. Poahi lost all of his alpha-male awkwardity, and his body writhed along with Lance’s gyrations. It felt like a comical mismatch, Lance thought, since Poahi was preposterously huge in comparison with him. Even on his knees, Poahi had to stoop and Lance had to stretch on his toes to get his cock in Poahi’s ass.
But the awkwardity of the positioning didn’t slow Lance down any. He grunted along with Poahi as they both reached orgasm at once.
Cum sprayed over Lance’s fingers and onto the couch beneath Poahi’s spasming body. Meanwhile Lance’s own load filled up Poahi’s ass with his creamy goodness. Poahi again said something in Samoan, an outpouring of vowels and sonorants that echoed in his small apartment.
Poahi’s muscles tensed and flexed all at once, the intricate agate-colored lines tattooed over his biceps and half of his torso rippling as he contorted. He groaned and bit his lip. Lance kneaded the meaty flesh of his chest.
“Yeah, mate…”
Lance sighed and pulled out. He used his thumb to rub Poahi’s sensitive rim, pushing the cum back in when it started to ooze out. With every centimeter he inserted, Poahi flopped over the couch and gripped the cushion. His coconut-colored skin writhed, sweat dappling his forehead and neck.
“Ah, god, fa’afetai, that was even better than before,” Poahi said. Then he blushed and said quickly, “I mean… I hope you feel better now, about the breakup.” Poahi sighed and leaned back. Lance kissed each of his nipples, and Poahi again bucked. He leaned up to kiss Lance on the lips.
“Thanks, Poahi. I really do,” Lance said.

Slim Jay the Pimp

Slim Jay is a hardcore pimp who don’t take no guff from nobody, and that includes his hos, his neighbors and anyone else he meets! That all might change when he meets a twinky young man named Sammy, who sends Slim Jay’s heart a-thumping!

But Slim Jay’s got a rep to maintain! Can he get his rocks off with Sammy without losing face?!

Read it now!