featuring prostitutes – Mansploitation

The Raunchy Turkish Oil Wrestler

Rob is desperate for dirty, oily Turkish manmeat, and he’s about to get his fill! That’s because he’s in Turkey taking lessons… and a lot more — from the legendary wrestler Mustafa Mounsir, who’s gonna give Rob the ride of his life!

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Rob nervously waited for his Turkish instructor to arrive. Rob was dressed like a tourist — which he technically was — and sat there nervously watching the lessons going on in front of him. He was at a grassy field in a small, rural town in Turkey, where the locals practiced for an upcoming oil wrestling tournament.
Turkish oil wrestling was a popular sport here. It was a form of wrestling in which the men — the biggest, hairiest, most macho men in all of Turkey — greased each other up with olive oil from head to toe while wearing these loose leather trousers called a kisbet. Then the goal was to gain control of your oil-slippened opponent by holding onto his kisbet. It inevitably required sticking one’s hands down into one’s opponent’s kisbet, feeling their crotch, ass and every other olive oil-stained muscle. As a keen lover of the male form, Rob considered it the ideal sport.
Rob had done a lot of work to find Mustafa, a professional Turkish oil wrestler who didn’t normally teach lessons. Rob didn’t want to take lessons from a normal class, because he greatly desired spending time with Mustafa Mounsir and his msucled chest. Rob’s ideal physique was a large, handsome and hairy man.
A few tourists and a couple locals were practicing their moves with a lean, handsome Turk in the center of the field. He spoke English well and was encouraging, coach-like. He obviously shaved his chest, for one thing, and probably didn’t have any hair on his back by nature. Rob had suspected as much when he learned there was a tourist-oriented oil-wrestling coaching service — he didn’t want a polished Turk shaved and dolled up for Westerners.
He wanted Mustafa Oğuz Mounsir.
His heart started pounding when he saw Mustafa, a big, hulking brute of a man. He was in the heaviest weight class in Turkish oil wrestling, and it showed in his heavy gait, giant barrel-shaped body, his strapping chest and belly, and his broad shoulders. Most importantly for Rob, however, Mustafa also had powerful muscles and endless curls of body hair stretching up from his chest and over his shoulders. Like all Turks, the hair was dense, kinky and broad, and his sweat clung to it. There was little division between his chest hair, armpit hair, leg and arm hairs, back hair, beard hair and head hair.
“Hello, my name is Rob,” he said, followed by a carefully rehearsed Turkish translation.
Mustafa nodded. “You are here for lesson, yes? I am Mustafa Mounsir.” Mustafa’s English was only a little better than Rob’s Turkish, but he managed to introduce himself and begin a lesson. His accent was thick, as spatchcocking as a dressed chicken, while Rob could think of little more than the closeness of his body hair and the heat emanating from his overworked muscles.
After a few minutes of stretching, Mustafa began showing him some moves. It was obvious that Mustafa was not a teacher; he was gruff; he failed to explain what he was doing; he got frustrated when Rob didn’t do everything exactly right. For his part, Rob did not do well — every time he was instructed to place his hands on Mustafa, a shudder of desire and lust coursed through him.
And all they were doing so far was practicing a few simple holds. About halfway through the first lesson, Mustafa said it was time for a scrimmage, and that meant the best part of Turkish oil wrestling was about to happen. Rob had to force his stiffening dick to quiet down as Mustafa brought him to the side of the field where a pitcher of olive oil waited.
“You will rub it on me. Rub it on ev-er-y part,” Mustafa said, over-enunciating his words. “I will do first.”
Rob nodded. He was pretending to have little idea what Turkish oil wrestling was, so he looked surprised when Mustafa’s callused hands spread oil over Rob’s body, extending down into his loose kisbet.
Praying that he wouldn’t get hard yet, Rob didn’t show how arousing he found Mustafa’s hands running up and down his body, even rubbing olive oil inside Rob’s kisbet, on his ass, his cock and balls, all of it, Mustafa didn’t seem bothered by it. That was a core part of Turkish oil wrestling. Mustafa’s rough-fingered hands had probably rubbed oil into a thousand men’s skin.
Then it was Rob’s turn. Mustafa sneered at him — it seemed he didn’t love the idea of giving lessons to a non-Turk. Rob’s hands dripped with olive oil as he touched Mustafa’s back, which was covered in the thick, kinky black hair that extended over most of his torso. He was like a Turkish sasquatch. Rob’s heart pounded as he forced his fingers through a tangled forest of hair on Mustafa’s lower back.
Then he moved around to the chest, where the hair was even thicker, unapologetically dense, and when Rob disturbed it with his fingers, the odor of stale oil and sweat wafted over him. He got the impression Mustafa expected Rob to be disgusted, and Rob decided to play along. He wrinkled his nose, and Mustafa laughed like he was proud of that.
His body wasn’t perfect, which Rob liked. Six-pack abs were nice to look at, but Rob preferred having some meat to grab onto. That described Mustafa perfectly, his powerful chest like a hard slab of iron with a thick layer of padding on top.
Rob’s hands moved back around to his ass, hands slipping under the kisbet. Much to Rob’s delight, Mustafa’s ass was just as hairy as his chest. The hair there was tangled, so Rob moved slowly, caressing olive oil into those big beefy orbs slowly enough that he worked out all the kinks. His fingers crept between the asscheeks, even though he had the feeling actual Turkish oil wrestlers skipped that, and he touched Mustafa’s quivering hot asshole.
Then he reached underneath Mustafa’s ass, hands stretching between his thighs to the hairy taint. He stood still in front of Mustafa, so he had to step even closer until his face was pushed up against Mustafa’s hairy pecs, and the flavor of sweat-scented olive oil hit his tongue.
By the time Rob got back to the front, shivering in delight when he touched Mustafa’s sweaty ballsac, Rob was already rock-hard. He moved both his hands to the front of Mustafa’s body, starting with his thighs, which were slick with sweat from being in the hot kisbet. He rubbed olive oil into first one trunk-like thigh, then the other.
He cradled Mustafa’s ballsack with his olive oil-laden fingers, and gave his dick one quick stroke. It was long and so thick Rob couldn’t wrap his fingers around it, uncircumcised with extra flesh that moved along with Rob’s fingers.
At last they were done, and Mustafa arranged them for their first lesson. “Feet like this,” he said gruffly, and Rob played along. “No, like this.” He pushed Rob into position.
Having no idea how to defend himself, Rob was on his ass as soon as Mustafa started wrestling. The bigger man had both of his hands down Rob’s kisbet, gripping the leather from inside. The top side of his palms touched Rob’s dick, but Mustafa gave no sign of noticing Rob’s growing erection.
Then they did the same again, and again. Rob managed to dodge Mustafa for a few seconds, but he couldn’t defend himself in any way. He hadn’t given the wrestling part of Turkish oil wrestling much thought. All Rob cared about was the “rubbing oil into men’s muscles” part.
Soon enough, the lesson was over. Rob didn’t think he had learned much — Mustafa was a lot of things, but a quality pedagogue was not one of them — but he was so horny he couldn’t think, so he was glad to be done anyway. His hardon throbbed in his kisbet.
“You give respect to superior man,” Mustafa said. He folded his arms over his chest. “Instructor, me. Respect, it is to dem-onstr-ate, yes?”
Rob hesitated. They were still in the middle of the field, so he thought Mustafa was asking for a tip, but Rob didn’t have any cash — or anything at all in his kisbet. He tried to explain that, but Mustafa just growled.
“Must give respect.” Mustafa took Rob hand and shoved it into Mustafa’s kisbet. His hand entered the dense thicket of sweat, oil-lubed pubic hair, and there, he felt Mustafa’s hot cock, which his fingers wrapped around.
Terrified at first as he wondered whether he was in trouble, Rob realized Mustafa wanted to get jacked off. Then Mustafa growled again and repeated himself once more. “Amer-icans must have respect!” He barked.
Rob gripped his shaft tight and gave it a stroke. It was hot and thick in his grip, and Rob watched closely to see how his stroke affected Mustafa — not at all, as it turned out. Mustafa gave no signs he noticed Rob rubbing his cock with first one, then both hands.
It was only after several minutes of standing there that Mustafa settled down with a self-satisfied smile, and Rob nervously began stroking his dick. Rob wondered if Mustafa made lots of men jack him off — he’d implied this was what all men should do to show respect to “superior” men. Maybe he made lots of both tourists and wrestlers do the same thing.
In no time Mustafa’s was rock-hard and pulsating between Rob’s fingers. He thought maybe it had gotten half-hard from the wrestling, which made Rob glad. Maybe Mustafa got hard easily. In any case, Mustafa closed his eyes as his cock throbbed in Rob’s grasp, both hands rubbing up and down that veiny dick, still entrapped in Mustafa’s oil-soaked kisbet.
Precum leaked down the shaft and added to the mix of fluids in Mustafa’s crotch. Rob wished he could kneel to get a better whiff, because he could tell he would adore that musty scent, but he thought Mustafa might object.
All at once, Mustafa reached an orgasm visible through his rippling muscles. His dick spasmed as his shoulders tensed, his toes curled, and the hair on his chest stood on end. Mustafa closed his eyes and groaned. He bit his lip.
“Yes, good respect, American cowboy,” he murmured.
All of Mustafa’s muscles tightened at once, and his balls crawled up in his sweat-slickened sac. Rob kept on stroking it even as the cum shot out and coated the inside of the kisbet, not to mention Rob’s hand and wrist.
Another vast wad of jizz spurted out. That first cumwad made it to the edge of his kisbet and the underside of Mustafa’s belly, while the rest of his load only got to the waistband. It coated every inch of Rob’s hand, and still more kept jetting out. Mustafa groaned and moaned, looking surprised like he thought this wouldn’t happen, and his knees went weak. He stood up straight again though.
When he thought he had drawn out all of that nut, Rob pulled his cum-streaked hand out and looked at it, wishing he could lick it clean. But he just stared at it as though he was disgusted and followed Mustafa into the dugout, hoping Mustafa still believed him to be an ordinary tourist.
“You come tomorrow,” Mustafa said without looking back. “I continue lesson. Keep paying.”
Rob nodded. Mustafa stopped at the entrance to the dugout. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, and Rob got the message. He walked away. The dugout, it seemed, was only for real Turkish oil wrestlers, not tourists.
Though he wished he could suck all the jizz off his hand, Rob was intensely attuned to the audience around, watching the other tourists take lessons from the handsome Turk. They would surely notice him licking jizz off his hands, so he simply hurried away without cleaning it off. He waited until he got back to his hotel room, and only then did Rob wash his hands.
After that, Rob was tired and thought he’d go to bed early. He had to get up in the morning tomorrow for his second lesson from Mustafa, but for now, he had nothing else to do. He wasn’t even hungry, but once he laid down in bed, he wasn’t tired anymore either. He thought having something to eat would help, so he went out of his room to find a quick bite.
“Rob! Rob!”
He heard his name being shouted from the hotel parking lot. Rob didn’t know what was happening, but he ran out the door, thinking he was in trouble.
ustafa was on the ground floor near Rob’s car and screaming Rob’s name. “Rob Win-throp! Rob Win-throp!”
“Mustafa?”
Mustafa saw him then and swayed drunkenly on his thick legs. He headed up the stairs towards Rob’s room, which was when Rob noticed the whorish woman following him. Mustafa grinned when he got to Rob’s door.
“I am very poor,” Mustafa said.
“Okay…”
The prostitute hurried in then. She looked bored as she laid down on the bed and spread her legs. Rob nervously watched.
“I do not have enough money for paying for girl sex,” Mustafa said. “But this girl will kiss.”
“Okay…” Rob still didn’t understand what Mustafa wanted.
“So you will do vagina?”
Rob blushed and looked at the whore. “Nothing personal, ma’am. You have a nice one, I’m guessing. It’s just not for me.”
“No, not you. I do not buy sex for you,” Mustafa said, scoffing at the suggestion. He took off his shirt then and shrugged. His big hairy shoulders flexed, which made Rob’s cock jump to attention in his pants.
The whore said something in Turkish. It sounded like a joke, but Mustafa barked something back at her. He was offended by it. Mustafa turned back to Rob and said, “She does not like hairy back. She says she will charge me less money if it is shaved. But I do not want to shave it. It makes itching.”
“Okay…” Rob said. “I think it’s your best quality.” He kissed Mustafa on one meaty shoulder, and the whore squealed in disgust as Rob sucked the sweat off his hairs. The acrid-sweet flavor of stale olive oil hit Rob’s tongue, reminding him of their oil-lubed practice; it seemed to have suffused into Mustafa’s skin.
“You are dis-gus-ting,” Mustafa said. But he didn’t make any effort to move away as Rob licked his back clean. Beneath the thick mat of fur, his back was strapping and firmly corded with muscle. Then Mustafa said, “Okay? We are agreement?”
Rob hesitated. He still didn’t understand what Mustafa wanted. “I’m not sure…”
Mustafa shook his head and pushed Rob to the ground at the foot of the bed. Then Mustafa spoke to the whore and kicked off his pants. He flopped his soft but thick uncut manhood between his fingers, and smiled as he approached the bed.
He fed his dick into Rob’s mouth. He tasted of old olive oil and overwhelmingly of stale sweat. He stank of body odor but it smelled like he had attempted to cover it up with a scent that was not exactly cologne-like, more as though he had bathed in incense.
Rob swallowed it the best he could. Above his head, he heard kissing and finally realized what Mustafa was doing — he didn’t couldn’t pay the prostitute for vaginal sex, so he was paying her to simply make out with him while Rob mouthed his dick. Mustafa sucked on her tits and fingered her pussy, his dick quickly growing rock-hard in his pants.
She suddenly exclaimed something in Turkish. It sounded like she was offended, and Rob looked up to see her getting off the bed. Mustafa pleaded with her in Turkish but he stood there with his dick in Rob’s mouth the whole time. He turned his body and Rob moved with him.
“Bana geri dön.”
“Sizin geri brüt ve tüylü!”
She slammed the door behind herself, and Mustafa sat on the edge of the bed, his dick still throbbing in Rob’s mouth — Rob had to twist his body to remain in position as Marcus sat down. He looked almost ready to cry, Rob thought.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Rob asked, holding onto the thick prick in both hands.
He sighed. “She does not like my back. She say it is gross.”
Rob stood up and kissed him on the shoulder. He played with a few of the hairs in his mouth. “She doesn’t know what she’s missing.” He let his lips drop lower on Mustafa’s back, and licked all the way from his shoulder to the small of his back.
Mustafa shuddered, whether from ticklishness or disgust or both, Rob didn’t know. But Mustafa didn’t stop him as Rob bathed his hairy back in spit. His hair was matted to his muscles then, and Rob moved onto his chest.
He sucked on each hairy nipple until it was erect in his mouth, and Mustafa moaned. But Rob got the impression that this was becoming too pervy for Mustafa, too close to making out, so he quickly dropped back down and swallowed his dick again.
It seemed the nippleplay had reawakened his hardon, which throbbed with desire in Rob’s throat. Rob soaked the shaft with his spit and let it spill out of his mouth into his hairy crotch.
He said something in Turkish too fast for Rob to catch, but he got the feeling it was something like get deeper on it, bitch, because Mustafa then began pounding his dick into Rob’s throat. He chuckled when Rob gagged but he didn’t slow down.
It was a violent throating down, though nothing Rob couldn’t handle. He loved it when machos treated his head like a sex toy. He wished he could widen his throat to accommodate the man’s entire hairy cock.
In no time, he felt the man’s balls crawl up in his sac, and the familiar sour flavor of cum hit his tongue. Rob moaned as he swallowed jet after jet of creamy juice, which had a curious aftertaste that Rob couldn’t quite place — it was almost humus-like, he thought, with a delicious spiciness.
Finally it was done, but Mustafa kept his dick in Rob’s mouth as he used one brutish hand to squeeze out the last few drops of cum.
“Ah, your mouth is woman,” Mustafa said with a sigh. “Good.” He then cleaned himself up enough to leave and exited the hotel room without another word aimed at Rob. That did not surprise Rob. Mustafa was the kind of alpha who saw no need to talk to his bitch. That was why Rob liked him and women did not.
The next morning was another lesson, and Rob found that Mustafa changed his attitude towards him. He was outright kind, and he actually treated Rob like a girlfriend — when no one was watching. At the gym, Rob watched him workout and brought him water, acting like a personal trainer or assistant, though he didn’t know how to do anything of the sort.
Whenever they were alone, however, Mustafa felt up Rob’s ass and even kissed him on the cheek a few times. He grabbed Rob’s hand and shoved it into his shorts with a grin, and he often played with Rob by moving closer and closer to him as they talked, until eventually Rob was pinned against a wall and squashed by Mustafa’s massive, hairy chest.
Then if they were interrupted by someone, Mustafa would either scurry away or even slap Rob lightly, then say something insulting in Turkish. In this country, it was considered acceptable for a boss or coach to be cruel and even mildly abusive, so nobody was surprised to see Mustafa bullying Rob.
When Rob told him that his trip was almost done and that Rob would be leaving Turkey soon, Mustafa was sad. He smiled at Rob and said, in broken English, “I will be missing your mouth. It is very nice for me.”
“I’ll be missing your… Well, your everything,” Rob said. He blushed.
Mustafa stood up. “You come to field tonight. Goodbye present.” Then he walked away.
Rob was glad to see he had made a friend of sorts, then went back to his hotel to pack. He never ended up using most of what he brought because he spent all his time worshiping Mustafa’s body.
When the time came, he made his way back to the Turkish oil wrestling field. He was surprised to see a half-dozen wrestlers already there, wearing their kisbets. They weren’t greased up yet, however.
Mustafa held out the oil pourer for him, and Rob took it as he approached. Mustafa grinned and handed him a kisbet. “This for you. Since you are new, you are having to put oil on men. It is rule for rookies. I know you will like.” He gestured towards the other wrestlers, all of whom were big and hairy like Mustafa. “Then we all wrestle. You lose, you lick ass. Yes?”
Rob was already rock-hard and he couldn’t quite concentrate enough to say yes, but Mustafa seemed to understand what he wanted to say. Rob hurriedly put the kisbet on and poured some oil into his hands.
He gripped Mustafa’s hairy body and began massaging the oil in. The other wrestlers milled about, talking and leering at Rob — normally Turkish oil wrestlers greased their opponent up, that was tradition, but it seemed they also made the new guy do it when they had a rookie. So the more experienced wrestlers spoke to Rob in Turkish but in a way that suggested they were being intimidating, no doubt telling Rob how badly he would lose.
Of course Rob was desperate to lose. He had no real chance of winning anyway, but he certainly didn’t want to. slurping all these Turkish studs’s asses? He couldn’t think of a better way to end his trip.
When Mustafa was done, Rob moved onto rubbing oil into the skin of the the next man, Kaan Gözübüyük. He was taller and leaner than Mustafa, but he was just as hairy. The thick black curly hairs extended up from his ass and down from his shoulder, stretching to almost, but not quite, meet in the middle. He had a fat face — he wasn’t fat, but he had a big face with a wide nose, wide mouth, wide chin, his face just went on forever.
The man after him was burly and paunchy, Cenk Dal, who was maybe the strongest there. He had biceps the size of Rob’s torso and a thick scar that ran over his back. The scar was the only part of his back that had no hair growing on it, and indeed, his whole body was just as hairy from head to toe. Rob had to fight back the urge to lick the scar from ass to shoulder.
Then came a young man, Ömer Pamuk, easily the youngest of the seven Turks there. He was handsome and charming, and he seemed distinctly uncomfortable at being touched by a man. He also appeared to shave his chest and back, but his lower neck was untrimmed, so the hair extended well into his back.
Then the wrestling began. This was an informal match, so they simply paired off and began. Mustafa acted as a coach, yelling encouragement (or so Rob assumed) in Turkish. The big men Cenk and Kaan fought; that left the young man, Ömer, who was about Rob’s size, so they were a good match.
Rob was knocked flat-footed when Ömer came at him, and he barely managed to stay upright. He couldn’t quite grip Ömer’s body, which was lean and toned, with not an ounce of fat anywhere. He had no grip due to the greasy olive oil.
Ömer’s hands were in Rob’s pants and holding onto the kisbet, but Rob managed to separate from him. He plunged his own hands down Ömer’s pants and grunted in shock when his hand gripped Ömer’s long, thick cock. Ömer didn’t seem to notice, as his hands clutched Rob’s asscheeks.
Then it was all over. As suddenly as it began, Ömer had Rob pinned. He couldn’t move a muscle, all he could do was submit until Mustafa declared the match over.
That was it. The three winners (Ömer, Kaan and Cenk) congratulated each other as they all hurried to the stone dugout on the edge of the field. They were chanting at Rob, no doubt telling him to perform his loserly duty.
Mustafa spoke in clipped English. “They think you bet ass-slurping. I tell them you thought American cowboy can win any sport.”
As soon as they got into the dugout, they dropped their kisbets to reveal bare asses and densely hairy holes. They catcalled back to Rob, who pretended to be embarrassed and disgusted. He heard a few words that sounded like “American”, so he thought these men liked the idea of humiliating an American. He even heard something that sounded like yank, though he had no idea if that was really what they said.
He had lost to Ömer, so Rob kneeled behind him first. Ömer had the smoothest ass as well, so it would make sense if he were straight to start there. He made a loud sound that he hoped came across as disgusted, but luckily they were all facing away — they seemed to think it was too disgusting to watch.
As soon as his tongue hit Ömer’s asshole, Ömer jerked and exclaimed something that made the others laugh. Rob jabbed his tongue in and felt around. The olive oil was fruity and sweet, mixed with the acrid and bitter flavor of Ömer’s ass-sweat.
His hands reached around to Ömer’s dick, which was already rock-hard. It throbbed between his fingers and instantly leaked precum. Ömer must have really been enjoying the rimjob, Rob thought.
The feeling of submission to alpha male domination flooded Rob — this was precisely what he had been hoping to find in Turkey. He felt like his tongue was plunging straight into a grimy whirlpool of manhood, and he could feel its juices dripping down his throat.
Ömer jumped around without warning and slammed his dick into Rob’s mouth. He only barely made it before shooting a puddle of cum down Rob’s gullet. He laughed as he did so, embarrassed at having cum so soon.
The brothers were next. They were moderately hairy and had nice bubble-butts, and Rob worshiped all four orbs with his tongue before plunging inside. He tasted first one grimy hole, then the other — they were lined up ass-to-ass so Rob could go quickly from one to the other, while he used each hand on one cock.
He was so intent on licking them both that he almost didn’t notice Mustafa getting behind him. He said something in Turkish that Rob suspected meant I’m gonna make you my prison-punk, or something along those lines, and it made the other men say something surprised. They all had a brief conversation about it, but Mustafa didn’t slow down at all.
His dick pushed into Rob’s ass, and he relentlessly kept going — the oil was as effective a lube as he was willing to use, it seemed, and Rob was glad to have a little pain. He always enjoyed that.
The brothers turned around at once and both pushed their dicks into Rob’s mouth. It didn’t seem anyone saw it as weird for them to be jousting like that.
They both came nearly at once, shooting a thick and creamy loud that Rob held in his mouth for a minute. He savored the flavor and the hotness, then let it slide down his throat.
Kaan and Cenk were next, the two biggest guys here, both covered in fur. Rob reached up and caressed their hairy backs as he made love to each asshole in turn with his tongue. They both grunted like pigs every time Rob’s tongue reached their spongy prostates. Meanwhile Mustafa plowed into Rob’s relentlessly, uncaring of how it made Rob feel. Rob exclaimed in pain but it just made Mustafa laugh and gyrate harder with each passing thrust.
That continued for what felt like hours, Rob ripped open from behind by Mustafa’s massive cock, his tongue darting between the sweathair-choked asses of Kaan and Cenk. The handsome young one Ömer backed off when it got serious like that, but he had already cum, so Rob did not miss him. He slathered the other two’s ass cracks in spit, and his hands snaked around their bodies to the body hair jungles of their crotches. He stroked their hardons the best he could with Mustafa ramming him up behind like an elephant.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Mustafa!” Rob cried out. Mustafa seemed too engrossed in his own pleasures to pay attention to Rob’s words., or maybe he had forgotten English, but in any case, he gave no sign of hearing Rob’s demand. He kept at it regardless, and each thrust of his dick caused a ripple of his muscles and a jolt of both pleasure and pain to strike up Rob’s sppine.
“I am to cum,” Kaan murmured, barely audible over Mustafa’s bestial panting. He took Rob’s head out of Cenk’s ass so he could turn around plow his cock down Rob’s throat. Rob gagged uncontrollably, but that only made the others cheer and smack his tender ass. Cenk stroked himself off and reached orgasm along with Kaan.
They both filled up Rob’s mouth with their creamy seed, and sneered down at him with disgust in their eyes. Rob swallowed every drop and showed them his empty mouth. Most of it spilled out over onto his face. He frotted both dicks together as they limpened and he slurped on the cocktips that whole time, his body rocking back and forth with the power of Mustafa’s rams.
At last Mustafa picked Rob up and dragged his body up and down on his shaft, so Mustafa stood still and Rob was forced up and down on his shaft like some cheap fleshlight. Mustafa’s shaft throbbed in his intestines until he finally reached orgasm.
Hot cum sprayed to every inch of Rob’s body, coating his intestines. Some of it dripped down Rob’s thigh, making a hot, stinking mess on the floor. Jet after jet of it filled him up, more than Mustafa had shot up til now. Rob felt it seeping into his flesh, and he moaned out loud, as he finally shot his own wad onto the floor as well.
A great surge of relief wracked his body when Mustafa removed his cock at last. Mustafa snorted. Rob moaned. Rob lay sprawled-out on the floor. When he moved his body, it reawakened his climax and sent a twinge of both pain and ecstasy through his body once more. His ass ached. He cried out, and he lay still there, exulting in the aftershocks of his orgasm.
The men quickly walked away, leaving Rob there on the floor in a puddle of fluids and bliss. Mustafa was last, and as he left, he said, “You hire again. More lessons. Much to learn.”

The Cocky Pimp

Avery is working the front desk at the legendary Night Along motel when the hardcore pimp Darkie comes by, willing to give Avery a taste of his magnificent manhood. Can Avery service his needs well enough to earn the hard-fought approval of the utter alpha pimp Darkie?!

Read it soon as an ebook!

The Married Cop

When Avery is robbed, he meets up with a cop with a wife and a physique Avery could… and just might worship for days! Officer Heartley is a bull-headed macho cop who needs to get a little relief, and Avery is all too happy to help out!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was furious about his hotel room being robbed. It was only eighty dollars, but still — having security to prevent this sort of thing was exactly why Avery was loyal to the chain. He had explained this to the manager in no uncertain terms, and he had gotten a refund as well as a free day in the room. That was worth more than what he had lost.
There was nothing to do now, however, but wait and pace. The police were on their way, supposedly. Avery knew the police wouldn’t do anything for eighty dollars, but he wanted to make his statement. This was an annoying distraction when he was trying to be more productive in his life. He wanted to hurry up and file his complaint so he could get back to work.
When the cops arrived, however, Avery was at a loss for words. His blood ran hot and his cock twitched in his pants, his annoyance at the robbery having vanished. One of the officers was a skinny young woman, but the other was a sturdy older man. He was Officer Malcolm Heartley, and he had a square jaw like a superhero.
“Sorry to hear about ya troubles, sir,” Officer Heartley said with the most delightfully full-bodied voice, all baritone echoes emanating from beneath his scruffy throat, a somewhat awkward tremble to it — he was one of those delightfully strong men who weren’t swaggerous and cocky. Avery thought a note of unconfidence made him even more handsome. “So you sure there ain’t nothin’ else missin’?”
“Yeah, that’s it, thanks,” Avery said. He blushed a little because he could feel Officer Heartley looking at him. He wished he could come up with a reason to make Officer Heartley stay.
“Alright, thank you for callin’ it in,” Officer Heartley said. Avery could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t think they would find the money. The woman cop said they would keep looking for the culprit, but Avery didn’t find her very convincing. It was only eighty dollars, after all, Avery thought, surely there were more important crimes in this city.
“Thank you for your help, officer,” Avery said. He clasped Officer Heartley’s well-muscled arm in hand. He shook the woman’s hand too, but he was so blinded by Officer Heartley’s strength and the body heat radiating off him that he shook her hand in an automaton trance.
And that was that, Avery’s distemper was gone, and the hotel-room robbery seemed like a memory from his distant past. Avery loved older men with fantastic physiques, and Officer Heartley was a perfect one. He was dark-skinned, thick and jowly, but not fat, just muscle and meat all over, you could tell he was used to home-cooked meals in a warm home. His face had a few wrinkles under the eyes, and his beard hairs were flecked with gray.
“We’ll call you if we learn anything,” said the perky blonde cop. She was hot too, beautiful really, Avery thought, but he had no interest in her. She was lost in the alluring aura emanating from Officer Heartley.
But he couldn’t stick around. The florist trade-show was over. It was time to go back home. He checked out of his room.
He sat down in the hotel lounge to work on the novel he had promised himself he’d finish a rough draft of on this trip. It took a few hours to get his focus back. He took several breaks, and drank a ton of coffee in a coffeeshop next to the hotel.
He finally got a little writing done around eight o’clock, and he went down to the hotel bar to celebrate afterwards. He was just about to sit when he realized he shouldn’t reward the hotel for letting someone steal from his room. He should go to a different bar.
He had no sooner walked outside, however, when he saw a police car pull into the parking lot. It was Officer Heartley, and he rolled down his window. “Hey, there you are. We caught the guy who had your cash, we can give it back if you come with me. You gotta fill out some forms.”
Avery got in. “Really? You caught him?”
“Yeah, I’m as surprised as you. But he hit a couple hotels in the area, apparently he hacked a swipe card that works in any of them. One of the hotels caught him on camera,” Officer Heartley said as he drove away and Avery buckled his seat-belt.
“Where’s your partner?”
“Oh, we’re off now. She’s out with her hot new boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’re off-duty?! That’s so sweet of you to come get me!” Avery said.
“Well, you know… I don’t like out-of-towners gettin’ the wrong impression ‘bout my town,” Officer Heartley said. “You single?”
“Yes I am,” Avery said. He cleared his throat. “What about you?” He made sure to speak in a slow, seductive tone. Officer Heartley had to know what that meant.
“I’m separated. My wife left me.”
“Oh you poor baby, it must have been a long time since you’ve been with a woman,” Avery said. He patted Officer Heartley’s well-muscled forearm.
He nodded.
“Well you know, I have a magical power,” Avery said. “I can make guys forget about their wives. Who’s got a mouth, an ass and a need to please? This guy!” Avery pointed to himself.
“That’s… I don’t do that, no thank you, sir,” Officer Heartley said, but with a nervous tremble to his voice. Avery could tell he wanted to do it. He was responding to Avery’s flirtatious tone. But a lot of guys did that because they liked the attention, it didn’t mean they were interested. Especially once they were married, many guys were desperate for someone to call them handsome.
“Hmm… That’s unfortunate. Tell your wife I’m going to steal every inch of her husband.”
After a long pause, Officer Heartley said, “I’m not going to tell her that.”
They pulled into the police station then. Avery went in with him, filled out the requisite paperwork and saw the skeezy-looking guy who had been caught. He was sitting there in a hallway in handcuffs. Avery didn’t know that’s who it was until Officer Heartley pointed him out.
When he had his eighty dollars back, Avery headed out to the parking lot. Officer Heartley brought him to the police car. Then he sat behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything. It looked like he was waiting.
“Officer Heartley?” Avery wondered if he had done something wrong. “Hey, uh… are you okay? You don’t have to take me back to the hotel, I can afford a cab. Or an uber. Or I can walk, it’s like five blocks.”
“Shush…” Officer Heartley said with a desperate gulp. He opened the door for Avery to get in. “I ain’t pervy.”
A long pause ensued. Avery wanted to say fine, but he had just been shushed, so Avery didn’t say anything.
Finally Officer Heartley spoke again. “You, uh… My wife… My wife used to be so different, y’know. I don’t think I changed that much since we got married. We used to go out and she wanted to, y’know…” He glanced at Avery. “Like… she wanted to suck me off, y’know, in the bathroom.”
“What?”
He blushed. “No, I mean, she don’t have a bathroom-fetish, I just mean we’d go out somewhere and she’d wanna bang in like a closet or bathroom or something. She’d wanna suck my dick.” He paused. “But now, she just like… She don’t even wanna look at me. She got kinda fat and her hair is always a mess and she don’t shave her pussy no more, she barely even shaves her armpits, and if I mention it at all, she freaks out, but she is always calling me a fat-ass and when I fart she calls me a nasty shit.” Then he whispered hoarsely. “It makes me feel bad.”
“Oh, you poor baby…” Avery said. He patted Officer Heartley’s belly. He wasn’t fat, but he had a belly there. He looked like he probably had a six-pack back when he met his wife, so any amount of fat might have seemed like a beer-gut to her. Officer Heartley’s muscles rippled beneath his uniform shirt. “You can tell her how you feel. Tell her it hurts your feelings.”
He rolled his eyes. “I, y’know… I can’t say that.”
“You said it to me.”
“Yeah, but you’re… you know.”
“So you can tell a guy you barely know, but not your wife?”
He shrugged. “She won’t care. She’s…” He whispered again. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Do you want me to-?”
“Shush. Don’t say it,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest of his squad car. It was parked in a row of other squad cars. No one was behind them, just a solid fence with barbed-wire atop it, so they couldn’t be surprised. In the main part of the parking lot, officers currently on-duty met with their partners and sipped coffee before getting in their own squad cars and driving off.
Officer Heartley unzipped his slacks and pulled his cock out. It was big and fleshy, and Avery thought you could tell just by looking at it that no one had been treating it right in a long time. He bet Officer Heartley’s wife even got mad if he jacked off to Internet porn, so Heartley was probably in a world of frustration.
Sure enough, it twitched as soon as Avery touched it. “Oh, it’s so big! Your wife must have loved taking it in her ass when you two were just dating!” Avery smiled at the frustrated look on Officer Heartley’s face. He suspected that, if he kept bringing up anal sex, Officer Heartley would be unable to resist. “I know I couldn’t resist begging for it in my tight asshole if we dating and I was a girl. I would crave this cock all up in me. What was her pussy like?”
His dick twitched beneath Avery’s fingers. Officer Heartley moaned. “Ah, shit, man, it was velvety and smooth and… damn, I want that again. Shit…”
Avery breathed heavily, and he tried to sound as girlish as he could. Officer Heartley’s eyes were closed, his great cavernous chest heaving as he breathed and Avery stroked his dick, slowly and unctuously at first, sliding his hand up and down. He paused to spit onto his palm, which made Heartley moan again when Avery resumed stroking.
“Were you a cop when you met her?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to be. I told her that on our first date,” he said. His voice sounded croaky and tense, his eyes still scrunched shut tightly. “But I was just a painter then.”
“Oh?!” Avery snaked his other hand into Officer Heartley’s pants, from which his cock stuck out through the fly. He handled his sweaty balls.
“Shit, man, that feels so good…” Officer Heartley said. He settled back in his seat like he was ready for this to last a long time.
“I know. I think you’re really handsome in that uniform. And I bet you’d be just as handsome in anything else,” Avery said. He unbuttoned the bottom of Officer Heartley’s uniform shirt, making his undershirt-clad belly visible. He bent over and kissed his belly, blowing a raspberry as though it was a baby’s hairy belly. Officer Heartley laughed and his dick twitched in Avery’s hand. “You’re so manly, your wife is stupid if she doesn’t suck you off all the time.”
Officer Heartley glanced at him, his eyes open now. He watched his cock pulsate, a few drops of precum leaking out and lubricated Avery’s fingers. “Man… I dunno.”
“Nothin’ wrong with men makin’ each other feel good. You just close your eyes and let me make you feel good. Is it okay if I put my mouth on it, sweetie?”
He grunted and gritted his teeth as though being called sweetie turned him on. He shook his head. “Wait… I mean…” His pecs bounced beneath his shirt. “I mean…”
Avery could tell he was wavering. Avery moaned right in his ear. “Oh, sweetie… Your dick needs to get wet, I can tell. It’s so dry. Your balls are so full they’re going to burst, you poor baby.” He unbuttoned his uniform shirt the rest of the way. “What if I just put the tip in my mouth? Okay? Just the tip? I won’t do nothin’ else until you tell me it’s okay.”
His voice was breathless and jagged. “Yeah. Just the tip, okay. Okay.” He put one meaty hand on the back of Avery’s head and guided him down to his cock. Avery opened up and put his cocktip on his tongue, then slurped exuberantly. He spat up plenty of spit that ran down Officer Heartley’s shaft and soaked his crotch.
Now that he was so close to Officer Heartley’s body, he could smell his unwashed clothes — was he in trouble with his wife? Staying in a motel? Possibly, Avery thought.
“Just the tip, okay?” Officer Heartley said, his voice a low throaty rumble.
Avery made eye contact with him, but Officer Heartley immediately closed his eyes. Flopping his hard dick over his face, Avery let out a long cooing moan and called Heartley his baby again. “My sweet little baby… Ooh… Your dick tastes like candy, baby, I wanna make love to your cock.”
“Just the tip.” His voice sounded like he wanted to be firm and confident, but it came out as weak and wavery.
“‘Course, baby, just the tip,” Avery said, trying to hide his disappointment. He used one hand to stroke his shaft, while he kept his mouth on just the tip, suckling loudly, moistly. He had to cram his head in between Officer Heartley’s massive body and the steering wheel.
“Hey! Alan! You in there?”
“I’ll go see, he probably knows where it is.”
Avery heard that, but he couldn’t see because his head was in Officer Heartley’s crotch — and he didn’t even know Heartley’s first name was ‘Alan’. He assumed it was other cops getting into a patrol car. But when he heard their voices getting closer, he lifted his head.
Luckily, the sun shined into the windshield; it would have been blinding, but these patrol cars had glare-canceling windshields. It did make it impossible for anyone outside to see into the car from this angle, however, which was good because Avery saw a pair of uniformed officers some thirty feet away. If it weren’t for that glare, they would have seen Officer Heartley leaning back and then seen Avery’s head pop up from his crotch.
“Shit! Someone’s coming,” Avery said.
Officer Heartley opened his eyes, roared in frustration and jumped into action. He forced Avery’s head back down where it couldn’t be seen, his hard dick still leaking precum onto Avery’s face. He turned the engine on and rammed the car into drive.
“Shit!” Officer Heartley grunted, his voice desperate and plaintive, dick leaking precum over Avery’s cheeks. He drove to the right — which was not the way out of the parking lot, but did mean the officers would be on the driver’s side, so they wouldn’t see Avery without coming very close to the car.
“Where are you going, Alan?”
“Hey, did you see that memo from the DA? We wanted to ask if you knew about the plea forms, how does that work? Sheila said she never heard of them.”
Officer Heartley’s face was ruddy. He rolled down his window and waved as though this was normal, and nothing was wrong. “Hey guys,” he said. His mind whirred, his cocktip now back in Avery’s mouth. “Uh… Yeah… Plea forms are the same thing as those D9s. Just tell Sheila that, you need D9s.”
The other two cops exchanged glances that were both confused and enlightened — that was a helpful answer to their question, they were simply confused because Officer Heartley had a tense, pained expression on his face. But they just assumed he wasn’t feeling well, or had gotten in a fight with his soon-to-be ex-wife on the phone — perhaps, they thought, that was why he had been sitting in his car in this parking lot for a long time.
They just watched the squad car drive all the way around the parking lot, finally leaving onto Poplar Avenue and nearly going the wrong way on it until Heartley realized what he was going. He drove south into downtown.
“You still got your hotel?”
“No, I checked out,” Avery said.
He barely even noticed his hand pressing down on Avery’s head. He didn’t really intend to get deep-throated. That was an uncomfortably pervy idea to him. But he had an instinctual urge to push Avery all the way down on his shaft, plus he wanted Avery to keep his head down. So he did it without thinking about it, without even noticing until he realized Avery’s nose was in his pubic hair.
“Oh god…” Officer Heartley moaned.
His cock tasted amazing: salty and warm and musky, Avery crooned and sucked it all down. He didn’t care about his own throat crying out for oxygen and relief. He wanted to taste Officer Heartley until he had had enough and couldn’t take it anymore.
He drove to the most rundown motel in the bad part of town, a motel that was well-known as the epicenter of the city’s red light district. That was where all the hos brought their johns. Officer Heartley felt disgusted with himself going there at all for non-law-enforcement purposes, but it was where he had driven without thinking about it.
“I’ll get us a room,” he said. He took a deep breath. His cock ached. He wanted to get go at it all night like his wife used to do. He wanted to have so many orgasms it made up for the years his wife had been ignoring him.
But first, he had to awkwardly put his dick back in his uniform slacks and get out of the patrol car. It must have been obvious he had an erection, and he was pretty sure there was even a wet spot on his crotch — he was too excited and exhilarated and mind-bogglingly horny to even look down.
He raced into the front lobby and virtually tossed some cash at the dour-faced man behind the counter. “I need a room!”
“How many hours? Officer?” the man asked. He looked at Officer Heartley as though he thought he was catching him doing something wrong. He probably assumed a cop would only be here because he was getting free services from a prostitute. But Officer Heartley was too horny to stop and explain that he was just jacking off.
“Uh…” He had no idea what was normal. “Overnight.”
“You’re thirty bucks short,” the man said.
Officer Heartley cursed and scowled and handed over his credit card. That hardon wasn’t going away, it just kept throbbing painfully in his clothes.
It took forever, but finally Heartley got his key. He darted out into the parking lot again, and motioned for Avery to come to him. They scampered to the room, Officer Heartley’s pants already coming off even before he opened the door.
He dove onto the bed on his belly — which caused intense pain in his still-erect cock — then he rolled over onto his back. In seconds, his dick was out the fly and in Avery’s mouth. He let out a long, low sigh.
It took a few seconds for either of them to notice that the door was still open. Avery had barely gotten the fresh taste of precum in his mouth before he got up to slam the door shut. He returned to swallowing Heartley’s shaft.
“Oh god, yes…” Officer Heartley held onto Avery by the back of his head, fucking his throat deeply.
It was all over in seconds now. Officer Heartley’s balls crawled up in his sac, and his veiny shaft pulsated in Avery’s throat. Hot, creamy cum coated his mouth and slicked down to his belly. It was thick and warm, and it sat hotly in his stomach.
He tasted salty and sour and a bit sweet, with a strongly musky taste that Avery adored. There were flavors of steel and copper and unwashed fabric, cocoa butter and cheap deodorant. Avery guzzled down every drop, smiling at the sight of Officer Heartley writhing violently beneath him.
Then at last he pulled off, grinning at Officer Heartley’s shocked expression. “That was not just the tip,” Avery said coyly. He stroked his limp dick.
“Yeah, well… I changed my mind.” Officer Heartley groaned. “I paid for this room all night and I busted a nut in about five seconds.”
Avery giggled. “You didn’t think this was all over already, did you? I’m going to stroke your dick until it falls off. And then I’ll find another penis to attach, and I’ll stroke on that till it falls off.” He playfully groped Officer Heartley’s chest beneath his uniform shirt.
“You got spare penises?” He chuckled dryly. He was about to speak again, when there was a loud moan in the hotel room next door.
They both blushed and smiled. This motel rented rooms by the hour to prostitutes, and it seemed there was one such transaction going on right next-door. Officer Heartley sighed and stood up. The moaning from next-door was not too loud — they could only hear the man, whose deep voice was easily audible. Avery could hear a woman’s practiced heavy breathing only when he pressed his ears against the wall.
He yelped and stepped away when a woman let out a little yelp. “I said not to pull my hair,” she said. “Quit it, get off me.” There was a loud thump, it sounded like she had pushed the man off her and he fell off the bed.
“You bitch! I paid for an hour, you best believe I am getting all sixty minutes! I swear I’ll call Bernard-“
“He says no one can pull my hair, not for no amount of money, cuz my hair could fall out-“
“I wasn’t gonna pull ya hair out, you fuckin’ cunt! I just needed somethin’ to grab onto. Ya tiny-ass titties ain’t enough-“
“Oh, you’re complainin’ ‘bout my size? I thought you stuck your nipple in my pussy until I opened my eyes!”
Avery listened to the argument with wide eyes and baited breath. Should he call the police? He realized he didn’t need to just as Officer Heartley was redoing his belt and running out the door. “Stay here,” Heartley said.
Avery didn’t want to get in the way, so he followed orders. He stayed with his ear to the wall so he could hear. Both the man and Officer Heartley shouted at once, as Officer Heartley pounded on the door. Then when it was opened, there was more shouting, with the woman joining in this time.
“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know what was going on here!”
“I do know! I could hear every word-“
“Oh? What were you doing in this place? Huh?”
“Not any bit of your business, motherfucker, it was totally legal,” Officer Heartley said.
Avery poked his head out the door and was shocked to see that the man being led away in cuffs was another cop. Officer Heartley had arrested a state trooper. The woman in the hotel room glanced at Avery without noticing him.
Then Avery just sat and waited in the hotel room. He was glad to have the chance to recover. After a few minutes, he went over and talked to the prostitute. He helped her fix her hair and makeup. She said she didn’t want to file any report about the cop who had attacked her, but Avery talked her into doing it. Some other officers arrived then — Heartley had shown up at the police station, his uniform shirt still unbuttoned and askew, his hair a mess, so he had endured great ribbing and later got written up for dress code violations.
He told them about the state policeman, so others came out take a statement from the prostitute.
Finally the door opened, and Officer Heartley returned to the hotel room. He had fixed his uniform and his hair only to realize he had waited until too late — by the time he came out of the station men’s room looking like a professional, he was no longer needed. He was off-duty again. So he had gotten scrubbed up just to come back to Avery.
“Goddamn,” Officer Heartley said when he saw Avery sitting there on the bed. Avery immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed for Heartley’s crotch as though he was in desperate need for more cock. He didn’t even let him drop his pants, he just undid the fly and started slurping on it until Officer Heartley made him stop long enough to take his pants off.
“Do you wanna stick me in the ass?” Avery asked. He shook his ass towards Officer Heartley. “Please? I want to feel your cock inside me… You can ramrod me so hard, harder than your wife ever let you, I bet. I’ll never make you stop. And you can cum inside me, okay? You can drown me in cum…”
“Shit, boy, don’t talk like that, you’re gonna make me nut…” Officer Heartley closed his eyes again. He stood there, impatiently waiting as Avery took his pants off.
Then, at last, Avery got to back up on his dick. Like a lot of guys, Officer Heartley didn’t really know how to plow a man in the ass, so Avery had to take charge. Heartley just stood there by the bed while Avery lifted his ass up.
He ground his ass against Officer Heartley’s cock, letting it rub against his asshole. He clenched his hole too, making Heartley grunt and writhe. Avery reached behind himself and guided it into his ass.
“Oh, god, it’s so big!” Avery exclaimed. That was not a lie — it was big — but Avery only said it to puff up Officer Heartley’s ego. Besides that, he knew the position he wanted and it might take some effort to talk him into it. “Oh… I don’t know if I can do this,” Avery said.
“You said you could take it no matter what-“
“I didn’t know it was gonna be so big… You’re gonna ruin my ass, it’ll feel so good I never wanna do it again,” Avery said with a plaintive wail. “Hmm… Here, give me your arm.” He backed himself up farther, making Officer Heartley’s whole body shake as his dick sank deeper onto Avery’s ass. Avery took Officer Heartley’s well-muscled arm and wrapped it around himself, in a loose chokehold. That both provided more support and allowed Avery to lick and kiss every inch of Officer Heartley’s arm. “There you go, you’re so strong… I’m sure I can take your dick as long as I feel your strong arms around me, sweetie. That way I’ll know you’re keeping me safe.”
“Hmmm…” Officer Heartley grunted and bucked. His voice broke in Avery’s ear.
Avery loved getting plowed by older men like him. Officer Heartley was so handsome and macho and desperately horny. He craved affection — his wife was mean to him, and his fellow officers always gave him shit, and the civilians he interacted with almost universally hated him — so when Avery moaned and begged for more cock, that was nearly enough to make him cum all by itself.
“Oh god, get it deep in me!” Avery cried out. He wondered if there was anyone else in the motel who could hear that. That made him giggle, burying himself back on Officer Heartley’s cock.
He was all the way in now. Officer Heartley’s ex-wife had never taken it in the ass like this. She’d let him put it in her butt when they were dating, but only a few times, and only until it started to hurt — with a cock like that, it hurt right away. So he’d never had anal sex to completion, never got his entire shaft in her ass.
But Avery took it easily, with just a bit of struggle. Avery exaggerated it over and over to puff up Heartley’s ego. “It’s so big!” He even bit down on Heartley’s forearm, prompting a grunt from Officer Heartley’s lips.
Then they both went down to the bed, Avery squashed by Heartley’s massive bear-like body. Heartley finally began plowing without Avery needing to take charge. He pounded away, sticking his entire foot-long dick in, then pulling out and marveling at Avery’s asshole twinkling, begging for more.
“I’m gonna nut…” He grunted right into Avery’s ear. His wife used to like it when he said that. It was enough to trigger her orgasm, as it triggered Avery’s right now. But now she thought it was gross when he said it, or when he said anything else during sex, or anything at all about sex any other time.
Cum flowed into Avery’s ass. Even though he had already shot his wad once, he shot a huge load again — he must have had a lot built-up in his balls, Avery thought. It dripped out Avery’s ass and onto the motel mattress.
Finally he was done. Avery pulled off him. He had shot his own wad onto the mattress too, and it was now soaked.
Avery wrapped one arm around Officer Heartley’s meaty belly. “We made a big mess, and we’ve still got all night.”
Officer Heartley kissed him chastely on the cheek. “I’ll rent another room, baby. You’re worth it.”
Avery sighed and kissed each of Officer Heartley’s hairy asscheeks. “Let’s make this one filthier first.”

The Fat Trucker

Bart is visiting the legendary Ramwide Truck Stop when he stumbles across a thickbody trucker, who’s desperate for a little action. Bart loves big men, big-time, and he can’t wait to help out this Fat Trucker!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Bart stapled a flyer on the bulletin board in front of the truck stop diner. He tried to look like he belonged, because he didn’t — he was no trucker, and he didn’t have permission to post on this bulletin board.
But it didn’t look like anyone regulated this particular bulletin board. Somebody had written, in pen on a blank scrap of paper, in scrawling block letters: call Ricky to ram in ass, nasty, gross, fat, loves it up the butt no I don’t yes he does especially if you are black he will love it yum yum that’s what he always says. So obviously this was not a strictly monitored bulletin board. Bart hadn’t asked for permission because he thought they — whoever was in charge — would probably say no.
The flyers that Bart put up were professionally produced, so they looked out of place here. They had a picture of a pretty thick woman and a phone number in big letters. Looking for plus-size female models for a clothing line. That was what Bart did as a side-hustle, he was a fashion photographer. He was always on the lookout for thick females. He thought this truck-stop would be a fine spot to search in.
Bart himself had no interest in women of any size. He liked his men as big as the women he photographed, or even bigger. So for him, this truck-stop had an even better attraction than the women — the men.
Truck-stops were full of hefty hunky dudes, precisely the kind that Bart adored. They were mostly, but almost all were willing to mess around with tiny twinks like Bart. Now that he had done his work, hanging up the flyer, he took a look around the truck-stop to scope out his possibilities.
There was a thick-ish dude over there who was kind of hot, but not hot enough to get Bart’s motor going. A couple of skinny weirdos at a picnic table, passing a joint around. Bart wandered towards the parking lot full of semis, some of them with idling engines, others cold and silent like steel skeletons.
A few women were around. Prostitutes probably. Some might have been willing to model for Bart, but he had long ago learned that approaching them never worked out well — hence the flyer. In person, they usually thought he was a pimp, despite his small stature and flamboyant personality.
“Hey, baby, whatchoo doin’ tonight? Huh? You wanna play a game?” asked a trucker, who glanced up at Bart as he walked past. The girl in skimpy clothes, with a tattoo of Roger Rabbit on her neck, grinned and batted her tired eyes.
She was too skinny to model for Bart, he thought idly. This truck-stop was loaded with lot lizards. That was going to make it hard for him to find a man.
He saw an appropriately hefty man behind a truck, getting sucked off by a middle-aged woman. Bart tried to sneak up to check him out. The man was thick and hairy, with a powerful body but plenty of padding overtop it. His side-fat jiggled as he moaned and threw his head back. The prostitute’s head was lost in the meat of his belly.
His dick glistened with spit and precum. Bart approached, making more noise than he had intended. The trucker glanced back at him and smirked. “You wanna join in, hoss?”
“I-“
“No way, that costs extra,” the woman said. She glared at Bart. “You gotta pay — I-” She cut herself off and looked Bart up and down. “You want in? Thirty bucks.”
Bart licked his lips. He came near the trucker. “Can I play a little with you? I’m not interested in the woman.”
“The woman?” She looked up at Bart with a sneer. “How dare you-?” Then the fat truck got his dick back in her mouth, and she shot mean eyes up at Bart but didn’t try to say anything else.
He kissed the man’s thick fleshy bicep, sucking up the sweat that had collected on his hairy arms. The man shrugged and resumed plowing the prostitute’s face. She glanced up at Bart as though to ask why he would do something like this without getting paid.
But Bart just shrugged and stroked the man’s plus-sized ass. He sucked the sheen of sweat off his belly too, and fully intended to keep on going when the man moaned and grunted. He shot a thick load with an intensely cottony smell into the woman’s mouth. Bart was disappointed. He licked the man’s asscheeks, but the trucker just ignored him and pulled his pants up when he was done. He paid the woman — who grabbed more money out of the man’s wallet and glared at him as though daring him to say anything — then he just walked away.
She glanced at Bart. “You’re nasty, you sick fuck,” she said. “At least I charge money.”
Bart shrugged. “I’m sorry, I’m having trouble hearing you over the sound of your bony body clanking like a sac of rusty rebar,” he said, raising his voice as though to be heard over the sac of rebar. He walked away, leaving her to stew and look for another client.
Way too many females here to have a chance, Bart thought. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should just move on. He needed to put flyers up in more places today, he had simply hoped he’d get lucky here before going anywhere else.
He walked among the maze of parked semis, in hopes of finding a desperate enough man. He did see a chunky trucker taking a piss, but he was done before Bart got close enough to watch or join in or even see how handsome he really was. The door to the trailer behind him opened up.
“You foul-ass stinkbug! Oh shit that was nasty! You are fucking disgusting! You smell like my grandfather’s shoe!” said a girl as she climbed out of the truck. She looked very young from behind, Bart thought, but her face was tired and weary, and she had a network of tattoos visible on her bare midriff. She shouted into the truck. “You had better pay me, or I’ll send Martin after ya-!”
“What do you think Martin’ll say if he knows you turned down a man?”
“He don’t want my pussy stinking like some fat-ass sonofabitch!” She took a few steps away on wobbly legs, then stopped to put her heels back on. She tottered unsteadily. “And by the way, guys with manboobs the size of a German shepherd shouldn’t call women ‘chunky’!”
“I meant it as a compliment!” The man bellowed, but she was already gone. He glanced over at Bart. He nodded and closed the door to his truck.
Bart’s heartrate rose. There was an ideal target.
The trucker was heavy, but not really obese: he was obviously strong, with plenty of manmeat. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off, and his pants were around his ankles revealing threadbare boxers. He was hairy and his belly jutted out marvelously, not huge like Santa, but big and round and stout. His arms were powerful and meaty, his pecs fleshy and jigglesome when he moved or spoke or did anything really. He barely fit in the doorway, and he walked like his cock was as fat as the rest of him.
Bart knocked on the door. “Excuse me, sir?”
“Eh… hang on.” The trucker’s voice sounded tremulous. He was back in the sleeper, and he fidgeted with something. He frantically moved around back there. “I… That chick was my girlfriend, you know. I wasn’t… I ain’t pay her for nothin’ illegal, suh, just so you know!”
“That’s not — I’m not a cop!” Bart called out. He sighed. He often came across as a cop in places like this. That was because he was slim and spoke properly. He didn’t really fit in. “I swear! I’m not a cop.”
The trucker opened the door. “What do you want then?”
“I just wanted to see how horny you were,” Bart said. He blushed. “My name is Bart. I’d like you to ram me.”
“What?”
“I want you to ramrod me. Stick your dick in my ass. You know about ramrodding-?”
“Yeah. It’s what black guys do to white dudes in prison,” the trucker said.
“That’s… They don’t have a patent on it. You can ramrod me, it’s not illegal.”
“Still gross.”
Bart shrugged. “If you don’t wanna do it, you don’t have to… But I’ll offer you fifty bucks.”
“You serious? I ain’t into that trip. That’s some kinda nasty,” he said. “And it ain’t in the Bible.”
“Neither’s fuckin’ prostitutes.”
“She ain’t fuck me. And she weren’t no prostitute, that was my girlfriend,” the trucker said with a knowing grin. “Name’s Dabney. Dabney Cosgrove.”
“Hi Dabney.How ’bout I up the ante. I’ll offer you a hundred dollars to ram me?” Bart said. He snuck one of his hands up Dabney’s boxer shorts. Dabney stood in the driver’s side door of his semi, so he was much higher than Bart. Bart could peer under his boxers, and see a big shadowy dark spot he assumed was the man’s low-hanging cock and balls.
He slapped Bart’s hand away. “Now I know you a cop, cuz ain’t no pinkdick punks like a big hairy ass like me. I thought limp-wrists like you was is into prettyboys with long hair and skinny butts.”
“Why don’t you let me prove I’m not a cop?”
“How?”
“Turn around, bend over and let me kiss your asshole. Would an undercover cop kiss a fat redneck’s ass?”
Dabney thought about it for a long time, then he shrugged and nodded. He checked that no one could see before turning around. He pulled down his boxers, revealing a big ass that was ruddy and inflamed from sitting so much. He spread his cheeks, which were hairier than his unshaven cheeks. The hairs on his ass were matted to his skin with sweat.
Bart had to step onto the ledge leading into the driver’s side of the semi, but Dabney was already there, leaning over and jutting his bare ass out. That made it a delicate balancing act, and Bart struggled to get up there. When he did, he dove enthusiastically in and rammed his tongue right into the sweat-silkened hole of Dabney’s rotund ass.
He only left it there for a moment. Dabney yelped and laughed. He turned around and slapped his dick over Bart’s face, and Bart was glad to see it was as big as he thought it’d be. Some kind of fat men have small cocks, cuz their bellyfat subsumes it. Others have huge cocks around which the fat doesn’t grow in the same way. Bart, of course, preferred the latter, and he found he had a sixth sense for detecting which fat men had which kind.
Dabney’s belly hit Bart’s forehead, the hair scratching at his skin, and it softly jiggled around him. Bart’s hands ran up that maginificent body to Dabney’s fatty tits, which caused the massive pectoral muscles underneath to ripple.
“That’s nasty. You just hang out in truck stops lettin’ fat dudes ram you?”
Bart blushed. “You gonna judge me or you gonna make a hundred dollars?”
“I’m gonna do both.” Dabney moved out of the way to let him in. Bart didn’t wait, so he bumped into Dabney as the much larger man worked his way into the sleeper. Bart kissed those hairy cellulite-ridden asscheeks before Dabney plopped onto his bed.
It stank in here. That was why the prostitute had left. She had been willing to put up with Dabney having a belly, and she was willing to put up with him being hairy, and she was willing to put up with him having a big knobbly dick that was going to hurt, but she wasn’t willing to put up with getting rammed in a sleeper compartment filled with the scent of Dabney’s thickish sweat. It was a very strong aroma. Bart couldn’t blame her. He didn’t feel the same way, but he wasn’t surprised the woman did.
That fruity body-odor smell billowed forth into Bart’s nostrils, and it was strong enough to bring tears to his eyes. Dabney didn’t notice it. He thought she had been exaggerating. He’d be willing to put his boots and dirty clothes outside anyway, he thought, and she didn’t even let him try that before freaking out and stalking off.
This was just as good. Dabney sometimes rammed with the filthy whores who filled certain truck-stops. They were good for a lay, and they didn’t help the smell situation in the sleeper of his truck. Sometimes he rented a motel room to really go to town on a woman — and take a private shower — but that got expensive, and Dabney would rather sleep in his truck’s sleeper.
Bart was smooth and lean, yet he had a fantastically plump ass. He smelled so clean, so unlike any of the whores Dabney visited. Bart’s skin was pale as Dabney’s mother’s fine china, which she never used in case a celebrity came for supper, and he was unblemished from head to toe. Dabney was all blemishes. He got dry skin, too much hair and tufts of ingrown hair that got infected, bacne, something called folliculitis sometimes, Dabney had awful skin. Most of that wasn’t obvious cuz his body hair covered it up.
Dabney pulled his boxers down and let his dick flop out. It was soft, but had just a trace of hardness from the girl he had brought in here for a few minutes. She got him hard before storming away, and then Bart’s quickie rimjob had gotten his dick twitching once more.
So he was already fleshy and firming up when his dick slipped into Bart’s mouth, caressed by his soft lips. At first Dabney didn’t know how to take it — it was just like a woman’s mouth, and he even made little sucking sounds that came across as feminine somehow.
“Oh god… Shit, boy, get deep on it, get real deep on it… You like it nasty, huh?” Dabney said. He gripped Bart’s ears because he had always wanted to do that when getting a blowjob — no girl had ever let him — and he pulled on them to drag Bart’s head up and down. He was exhilarated at finally being able to do that.
Bart looked up to make eye contact with him. The smell of his body odor was intense down here. He had obviously not showered in some time. There was a truck-stop shower right here, but Dabney didn’t use those.
His dick quickly grew as hard as steel in Bart’s mouth. It was big enough to be a challenge to swallow, but it was a challenge Bart adored. He didn’t mind choking on it. He even forced himself to choke and gag as much as he could because that made Dabney moan.
Soon Dabney’s whole body jiggled, his belly rubbing over Bart’s face. That left a sheen of sweat that covered him, and it made that glorious smell stick to his nostrils. The sweat on Dabney’s bellyfat was sticky like spilled juice, and it coated Bart’s skin. He thought the smell would never go away, and he hoped he was right. Bart couldn’t help but pull off Dabney’s dick and went to lick and suck that belly. His tongue snaked into the fold of flesh right over his ribs, inside of which was funky unwashed skin that tasted of unadulterated manhood.
“C’mon, man, get me off,” Dabney whined. “Put ya lips back on it, that felt good. You go deep, damn!” His deep voice was resonant in the tiny sleeper. He kept pulled on Bart’s ears, but he didn’t force Bart to go back to his cock. He just kept trying. “C’mon, man, swallow it, swallow it, swallow it deep. You was so good at that. I wanna get back in ya throat.”
“Hmmm…. Lemme just suck on your titties some, and then I’ll play with your dick,” Bart said. He sucked on each of Dabney’s nipples. Dabney sighed and leaned back, allowing it even as he rolled his eyes and growled in frustration. “Your dick is so big… I wanna joust a little, okay?” He sat in front of Dabney on the mattress, looking tiny in comparison to Dabney’s cavernous belly. He could barely reach Dabney’s nipples, which he sucked on as he thwacked his cock against Dabney’s.
Dabney tried not to be self-conscious. He tried to ignore the fact that it was a dick itself — an actual man’s cock — on him. It was hot and hard. Was his dick that hard? Dabney thought it wasn’t, that his dick was always soft and jiggly in comparison to Bart’s iron-like cock.
But when he touched them both directly, he realized that wasn’t true. It was just weird to handle someone else’s cock, especially someone so skinny and small. Dabney grinned at the sight of his much larger dick pressing against Bart’s, which was nothing to be shameful of. Dabney’s dick approached ten inches though, while Bart’s was a relatively meager seven.
“I’m gonna put my ass on it now, okay?” Bart said, giggling at the sight of Dabney’s shocked look and plump chins jiggling. Bart stood the best he could, crouching to fit and struggling to move on the soft mattress. He turned around, baring his pale ass.
Dabney kissed each asscheek. He did it entirely by instinct, and it took him by shock. That wasn’t something he ever did before.
The feeling of Dabney’s lips on Bart’s smooth booty made Bart giggle and squeal as he lowered his ass towards Dabney’s crotch. Dabney was more aroused than ever. He had never kissed a woman’s asscheeks because he had never been with a woman who had such pert and perky, plump, perfectly poundable asscheeks: smooth, unblemished, hairless. Dabney slathered each cheek in kisses until his spit dripped down Bart’s thighs.
Then Bart sat on his crotch. He had to push on Dabney’s belly to get it out of the way, layers of flab weighing heavily upon him. He kneeled, facing Dabney despite the awkwardity of it. In this position, Bart had to spread his legs wide so he could take in the massiveness of Dabney’s torso. Bart hugged him close, so he could rub his whole body on Dabney’s thickness.
The other nice part about this position was that Bart could see the shocked and maybe frightened look on Dabney’s face.
“Goddamn, man, you’re really — shit, you wanna get rammed somethin’ serious, huh? Gonna get in ya guts, lemme in there,” Dabney said, a sheepish grin on his face.
Then he bit his lip and howled. Just the tip of his dick slipped in, and already it felt so good Dabney thought he might blow his wad. He chuffled back and forth, hands flailing and slapping Bart’s ass because he liked how it jiggled.
A sharp burst of pressure hit Bart, who winced and slowed down. That caused Dabney to grip his ass and massage it. He obviously wanted to pull Bart all the way onto that dick, to impale him completely, but Bart couldn’t take that just yet. He grimaced as he adjusted, leaning on that big plump belly for support.
“Will you ram… Oh god… Be on top…? ” Bart couldn’t speak because of the pressure in his ass. It hurt so good, and it made his voice waver and shake. Every moment it was inside him sent a new wave of sensations through Bart’s body, and each time Dabney pumped his hips, his cock jostled inside Bart and stimulated his prostate, while the motion made Dabney’s magnificent bellyfat shake like jello in an earthquake. Bart moaned and sucked up the sweat clinging to Dabney’s body.
He normally liked riding men on top, but with Dabney, he wanted to be below. He dropped low on Dabney’s cock, while Dabney arduously lifted his head. That kept Bart on his dick, mostly concealed by that roundish belly, and Dabney could pound away without having to look at Bart or be reminded he was not fucking a woman right now..
His bellyfat weighed Bart down, so Bart could barely breathe. He squirmed, his arms and legs flailing, toes curling, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the sleeper-compartment mattress. His ass was wet from his own arousal and from the rivers of precum that Dabney’s dick filled him up with.
Soon Dabney was plowing hard, with abandon, without thought for Bart’s comfort. Dabney had been craving that so hard he didn’t even know it. He’d only managed to get anal one time, and that had been a desultory affair.
This was the hottest thing he’d ever done. It was disgusting, filthy rutting, the way it was supposed to be. Dabney could ram hard like his bottom was just an object, a tight hole with a body attached to it, and no matter how hard Dabney rammed, no matter how much his greasy body slid and slipped over Bart’s formerly clean back, still Bart begged for more.
“Oh god, your dick is so nasty, ram me! Ram it in me! Ram it all the way in me!” Bart called out the best he could despite his inability to take a deep breath.
His prostate thrummed and sent a tsunami of pleasure to crash through him. Bart squealed like a piggie, making Dabney laugh even as the most intense orgasm of his life crashed into him.
Cum sprayed all over. It seemed to be everywhere in the sleeper-compartment. Dabney didn’t even know how that was possible, because he remained deep in Bart’s ass, exploring his innards with his cock, grinding into his guts as he spurted forth wad after creamy wad of cum.
It flowed into Bart, trickling through him. More fluids flew — Bart’s own cum, which Dabney had forgotten about — and spit from both men, because they drooled and Dabney spat instinctively onto the floor of his sleeper. He grunted and spit onto Bart’s ass too, adding more lubrication for his ramming, jamming and slamming.
He couldn’t even tell if his dick was still hard or not. He thought it was, but then when he pulled out and slipped back onto his pillow, leaning against the sleeper wall, his limp dick flopped against his thigh. It glistened with santorum, and Dabney grimaced at the sight of Bart’s gaping asshole.
He slipped one finger in. The sensation was creamy and thick, and Dabney wrinkled his nose. Dabney had never fingered anyone’s ass, but he couldn’t resist it. He rammed his finger in and out, pulling all of the cum out and smearing it over Bart’s asscheeks.
“Goddamn…” Dabney said. “You are one nasty slut.”
Bart turned around and laid his head in Dabney’s lap, letting that hairy belly flop over his face. “Same to you.”
“Don’t you forget to pay me,” Dabney said with a threatening growl.
Bart struggled to reach his pants, then finally got his wallet out. He handed over the cash.
“You come to this truck-stop a lot?”
“No,” Bart said, “Sorry, baby.” He kissed Dabney’s belly and sucked up some of the grease that had collected there. Then Bart sighed and leaned back. He cleaned off his ass, put his clothes back on and smiled at Dabney. “I don’t usually come to the same place twice. There’s always guys around though. You should give one a try.”
“I like girls.”
“Well, then do that first,” Bart said. He climbed out of the semi. “But if you get rejected again, remember you have… other options.” He smiled and waved as Dabney shut the door. The stink and humid heat from the sleeper visibly wafted out from the truck door.
Bart whistled and walked away. He had enjoyed this truck-stop mightily, and he was already planning on which one to go to next, for another curvy, raunchy trucker-stud.

The John

Avery is at it again, and this time he has his eyes set on a jive-talking black man from the ‘hood who would rather bang a ho… But when Avery dangles a couple dollars in front of his face, Wink is ready to give him a swing on that alpha male meat!

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“There you is, Wink, I see you comin’ my way! Why dontcha break me off a piece of that sugar?”
That was it, that was him.
Avery stepped out from behind the dumpster and stopped in front of Wink. He was a tall black man, muscular but not large, firm and tight-bodied beneath an ill-fitting suit. It wasn’t colorful enough or nice enough to be a pimp suit — it was faded and frayed, loose threads and old stains abounding. A few holes had been darned inexpertly.
Andre “Wink” Winkle came down here to Canal Street, behind Brentwood Projects, every weekend. He always paid for a blowjob from one of the hookers. He always asked for anal, but he never had the money for it. He begged them to let him in the back-door for free, even promising that he’d lick their pussy when he was done.
Avery thought Wink was willing to try a different route to that backdoor.
“I’m comin’ fo’ you, girl!” Wink said to the prostitutes. He walked slowly, with a barely perceptible limp.
“Hey,” Avery said. He startled Wink, who glared at him. “You wanna make some money? I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to do to me whatever you were gonna do to her. You can ram me six ways to Sunday.”
Wink had been bopping his head to an unheard beat as he came down the alley. He kept bouncing on his feet, even as his eyes bugged out. Then finally he stopped and chuckled.
“Yo,” he said, hsi voice flat and simple. “What?”
Avery repeated himself. He blushed. This was always the awkward part, and he was suddenly a lot less confident that Wink would say yes. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars. All you gotta do is ram me.”
“Yo, I, uh, I don’t mess ‘round on the downlow, sho’ don’t, sho’ don’t.”
“This wouldn’t be on the downlow, this would be here in public.”
“That ain’t a sellin’ point, man,” he said with a snarl. He pushed Avery out of the way. “Go’n, boi, get outta here b’fore I swipe yo’ head off. I ain’t no boytoy, no way, no way.” He had barely even stopped walking for a moment before continuing on, doing his little rap to that same beat he had been tapping as he came in. He shook his head and headed towards the girls.
“C’mon, baby, you look tasty tonight! You wear that suit like a stud!”
“You get all dressed up like that for me, sweetie? Ain’t you the handsomest?!”
Avery was disappointed. He was usually a good read on men. Wink had seemed like he’d do it for some money, but the way he phrased that and the way he moved on right away made it seem like he would not do it for any amount of money.
“Yo, sweetheart, you lookin’ fine in that dress. Whatcha think ‘bout-” Wink stopped talking and turned around. He jogged back to Avery and smiled, showing off deep dimples. “Yo, I forgot, I do it. Two hundred and some pee.” Then, he gasped, “I mean, in a cup, man. Pee in a cup. Not, you know… Pee in a cup. I need it tomorruh for a pee test. Need it bad, fo’ real, this nigga need it bad.”
Avery was taken aback. “Oh. You forgot? You forgot you do swing downlow?”
“I just… I ‘membered this little chore I got, yo, it’s real impo’tant and it ain’t not a bit of yo’ business ‘t all,” he said. He snorted. “But yeah, I gots a plan fo’ that money, hell yeah, hell yeah. And that’ll be the first time I evuh got clean pee for my PO.” He peered at Avery. “You smoke weed?” He screwed up his eyebrows,
“No. Well, yes, but I haven’t smoked in months,” Avery said.
He nodded. “Okay, good.” He produced a specimen cup — an actual one, from a lab — and handed it over.
Avery went behind the dumpster to pee. “You carry this around with you?”
“I was goin’ somewhere wit’ it, yo,” he said with a snooty snarl. He came up behind Avery by the dumpster. He swiped the cup from him as soon as Avery had replaced the lid. He didn’t seem to care that a few drops of pee got on the sleeve of his ratty old suit. “Get on yo’ knees. You ain’t a girl, so don’t even think I’mma seduce you or call you ‘sweetheart’ or kiss you. I don’t nevuh did stick no male man, no way. Nope, nope.”
“No problem,” Avery said as he dropped to his knees.
The nearby hos could still be heard. “Where’d Wink go? He was just here.”
“I saw him.”
Wink chuckled dryly. He had a nice, raspy throat that made Avery hard. Avery undid the fly of his nattered suitpants. He pulled out a juicy, fat cock. Since Wink was lean-limbed and not especially large, his cock looked even bigger, extending almost all the way to his knees and as plump in diameter as his forearm.
“Just put the tip in yo’ mouth, boy,” Wink said. Then he clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Yo, I don’t like sayin’ that. I’mma call you girl. Okay, girl? Huh? Huh?”
“Uh-huh,” Avery spoke around the cock throbbing in his throat. It was limp still, but it was gathering steam. He could feel it twitching and twinkling as Wink got used to the situation.
“Alright, yo, girl, alright, put the tip in yo’ mouth.” He paused and pulled out a cigarette. He patted his pants pockets. “Damn, girl, you got a lighter?”
Avery shook his head. He put the tip of Wink’s dick in his mouth and suckled loudly, moistly. He got a taste of clean cock — it was clear Wink had showered right beforehand. He must have wanted to be at his cleanest for the prostitute he planned on hiring.
Wink snorted. A trashy-looking white redneck walked past the dumpster, heading towards the girls. He didn’t notice Wink throating Avery down in the shadows. “Yo, hey, man,” Wink called out to him. “You got a light, man?”
The redneck nodded. He fished a lighter out and gave it to Wink, who lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. The redneck realized then that Wink was getting dome from a man, and he backed away. “Uh, keep the lighter,” he said. He turned around and darted towards the prostitutes.
Wink cackled. “Whiteboys don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this kinda shit. They squeamish as all hell, yo.” He took another drag. “Free lighter, alright, alright, alright.” He sighed. “Now get yo’ tongue out a bit, girl. Move it around some.”
Avery did what he said. He kept sucking on the tip and licking the shaft at the same time, his tongue flickering out to tease every inch of his manhood. Wink leaned against the brick wall facing the dumpster. He closed his eyes and groaned.
“Yo, lick right here, baby,” he said. He pointed to a spot, and when Avery licked that enthusiastically, Wink groaned again. He smiled. “Yeah, you pretty good. I’m gonna keep tellin’ you how to do it, girl. Hope that’s okay. I’m sure you got ‘xperience, but I like it done in just the right way. Lick here now, girl, get that tongue out… Yeah… Yeah…” He spoke in a low, slow-melting voice.
“Hmmm, c’m’ere big boy…!”
“Want a date, sugah?”
“Is that you, Wink? I see you there. Whatchoo doin’ behind the dumpsters? Ain’t you gonna come see me?”
Wink laughed and covered his face. He poked his head out from behind the dumpster. “Hey, sweetheart! I might take a break this week.” He snorted and smiled. “Wait! Nah! You come on ovuh here, Bethlyn! I got somethin’ for yo’! It’s gonna be real special!” His voice was smooth and kind, but then he glared down at Avery and spoke more brusquely. “Alright, you can deep-throat me now, girl.”
Avery was excited to show his capabilities. He slammed his face all the way down on Wink’s dick, until his nose mashed into the fabric of his slacks. His wiry pubic hair scratched at Avery’s lips, and his balls swayed against his chin.
“Okay, nice, alright then, alright, alright,” Wink said, bristling, shifting his weight between his feet like he hadn’t expected Avery’s mouth to feel so good. He smiled as Bethlyn approached. She was a big black girl with a wide ass. She wore a bright green dress that showed off her assets. She smiled at Wink, then frowned when she saw that his dick was in a man’s mouth.
“Hello,” she said. She glared at Avery and barked out, “What’s this? You stealin’ my customers? My daddy Slim Jay ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout that.”
Avery grinned, but he didn’t pull off Wink’s cock, which throbbed in his throat. Wink gasped like he was shocked that Avery could deepthroat him all the way to the root.
“Don’t be salty, baby,” Wink said. He leaned over and kissed Bethlyn on the cheek. “He payin’ me, I’m just savin’ some money. You still my one and only. Maybe I can pay you fo’ some anal action next week, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” She put her hands on her hips. “You leavin’ me high and dry.”
“I don’t want you dry, no way, no way. Lemme give you ten,” he said. He pulled out a ten dollar bill. “I finger yo’ real good, baby, baby doll.” He smiled and held up two fingers like he was negotiating. “I put two fingers in yo’ pussy and one in the ass. You like that? Huh? Or you want two in the ass and one in yo’ pussy?”
She took the ten dollar bill. She frowned down at Avery. “You best hurry up, man. If my daddy come by and you still here, he gonna kick at least three asses. Ten dollahs ain’t enough to make him happy.”
Wink kissed her on the lips. His tongue plunged into her mouth. His head was turned to the side to reach her face, while his crotch pushed forward to give Avery perfect access to his cock.
As always, when Avery got into the swing of his latest piece of street trade, he felt a real sense of intimacy with his man. He always thought the best way to get to know a man was to get him off. All of his inner feelings and dreams were palpable when you had him at his most vulnerable, allowing a man to swing on his meat.
And Andre Wink was no exception. Avery swallowed his cock to the root as Wink kissed the prostitute and fingered her pussy and ass. She submited boredly, but Wink acted like she was just as passionate as he was.
Wink wore this suit to impress her. Avery had been going back and forth whether he wore it for her or because he just thought he looked good or maybe he was going to go club-hopping later, maybe he just wanted to get his rocks off before hitting on pretty girls so he wouldn’t be too horny. Or maybe he just always wore a suit, or he was hoping to become a pimp one day. There were a million reasons he might be wearing the cheap, ill-fitting burgundy suit.
But the more he swallowed, the more Avery knew the answer — Wink wanted to look his best for Bethlyn, or whichever prostitute looked prettiest to him when he got here. He felt like a trashy loser when he dressed in his ordinary t-shirt and jeans to get a blowjob from a whore, so he wore his only suit instead. He talked like he was seducing her, like she was his girlfriend, like he really loved her, because he wished he was the kind of man who felt that way about a girl.
Now that Wink was knuckle-deep in the plump prostitute, his dick throbbed and jerked around within Avery’s throat. It spewed precum in copious quantities. Avery sucked down every drop.
“I love you, baby, I love you so much, yo, yo,” Wink murmured to her. He tried to drag Avery’s head off his cock, but Avery resisted. Wink grunted. “Am I the only nigga you want?”
“Baby, you really are,” she said with a canned moan. She kissed him back on the neck.
He chuckled. “Damn, I like this. Only cost me ten bucks, and I’s gettin’ paid by the sissy. I’s makin’ a profit tonight, damn-howdy!”
The prostitute took a step back. She shook her head. “Nah. My daddy gonna be very mad ‘bout that, Wink.”
“What?” He had a big smile on his face like a mischievous little boy who had just gotten in trouble.
“Only his girls is allowed to work this alley,” she said. “He go’n cut you. Or just demand all the money the sissy is paying you. Or both.”
Wink chuckled. “Baby, don’t tell him, okay? You still gettin’ paid-“
“He’s my daddy, I gotta tell him! He get salty if I don’t.”
“If you don’t tell him, he won’t know nothin’, baby, baby,” Wink said. He slipped a second finger into her pussy and groaned. She kissed him on the neck. Wink groaned. “Tell him the sissy ain’t pay. Tell him I let him jerk me off as a freebie.”
“He won’t like that much either, nigga,” she said.
Wink sighed. “Then tell him to fuck off, I don’t care. Quit talkin’ ‘bout yo’ pimp.” He looked down at Avery, whose head bobbed up and down on his dick. “You can stop, whiteboy. I got a female now.”
Bethlyn started rubbing his chest through his shirt and talking about how much she wanted a taste of his cock. Wink just smiled and fingered her pussy. He brought his fingers up to his nose to sniff them. Precum flowed into Avery’s mouth now, as Wink’s cock hit the back of his throat again and again. Avery’s nose was buried in Wink’s pubic hair and the burgundy fabric of his suit. Wink kept half-heartedly trying to get Avery to stop — Wink had cash now, so he could buy whatever he wanted from Bethlyn. Avery wasn’t about to stop until he got his money’s worth.
“Suck on ‘em, baby, lemme see it,” Wink said. He tried to put his fingers in her mouth, but she kept her lips closed.
“Another ten bucks, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“You charge money to suck on my finger? It just got yo’ pussyjuice on it, baby? I love you-” His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth.
“I love you too, Wink, but I gotta pay my daddy,” she said. “Ten bucks, and I’ll suck on any finger you put in front of my mouth.”
He chuckled and handed over another ten dollar bill. He shook his head and bit his lip. He put his fingers back in her pussy, then removed his other finger, the one that had been in her ass.
“Hmm,” she moaned like she had been waiting for that. She swallowed his callused finger, making him shudder and lean back again.
Avery stopped throating his cock. Wink watched his finger slide in and out of her mouth like he was hypnotized, like he hadn’t even noticed Avery wasn’t on his cock anymore. Though nobody touched it, Wink’s dick still throbbed and dripped on the grimy ground. Avery pulled his pants down and bared his ass.
Without a word from Wink, Avery backed up. He squeezed Wink’s cock into his asshole. Wink just kept sticking his fingers in the prostitute’s holes; he switched his fingers around like it was a game, smilingly sickly as she sucked her pussy and ass juices off his finger.
Finally he looked down to see his cock slide into Avery’s ass. He wrinkled his nose a bit, then went back to kissing the prostitute. His whole body trembled beneath the suit.
“Yo, baby, I love ass,” he said. “Love it!” He said it to her even though the only person whose ass he was in was Avery. His hands roamed over her tits and tweaked her nipples through her green dress. “Can I suck on yo’ titties, baby, baby doll? I love you so much. I’mma be wit’ you forevuh.”
“Uh-huh,” she crooned. “Twenty bucks.”
“Twenty bucks to suck on yo’ titties?!”
She smiled. “If you gimme another twenty bucks, I’ll have made fifty bucks off yo’. That’s enough I can give my daddy, he ain’t gotta be mad,” she said.
“Alrighty, then, alrighty, but only cuz I love yo’ and I don’t want him beatin’ on you, baby. That ain’t a good value, twenty bucks fo’ some titties, nah,” he said with a laugh. But he paid the twenty dollars anyway, and he dove for her chest. He lowered her dress to bare the tits and began licking. He groaned. His cock spasmed in Avery’s ass.
Avery savored the exquisite feeling of Wink’s meat throbbing inside him. He moaned. He had to grip the side of the dumpster for support. It took all of his coordination to keep moving his ass back and forth on Wink’s cock, because Wink didn’t move his hips at all. Avery was responsible for the entirety of the action. Wink ignored Avery, kissing and pawing over the prostitute instead.
Wink had never told anyone, but Avery was not the first man he stuck up behind. When Wink was in prison for two years, he had a thin, delicate man as a cellmate. Initially, Wink had beaten him up and taken his fruit cup in the mess hall. He arrived at prison wanting to show off and make a name for himself, and he was glad to have a small, weak cellmate he could pound on.
But over the next nineteen months, Wink went him hating his weakling cellmate to feeling sorry for him to being grateful for his attention to enjoying his presence to even giving an enthusiastic reacharound after a few gulps of toilet wine (when there was a sheet up over the cell bars so no one knew Wink had touched another man’s cock). When Wink was released, he had sworn to himself he was going to make changes in his life, and one of those changes was that he was going to keep visiting his former cellmate. He liked to feel wanted. He had sworn on his good name that he’d keep coming back.
But once he was free, and he saw girls all over the place, and he got some good-natured ribbing about what he might have done with other males in prison, Wink wasn’t comfortable with it. In his cell, he could put up a sheet for privacy. If he went to prison as a visitor, he couldn’t hide anything.
So in the end, he had never once visited the man he spent all those passionate nights with. He regretted it often, but Wink never looked him up again. He counted down the days to the man’s scheduled release date, and then he counted up the days since he had been released.
When he rammed Avery there in the alley, that was what he thought about, even as he fingered Bethlyn. He kissed her while imagining he was kissing a man who didn’t need to be paid to care for him.
“Kiss me, baby,” he moaned. He grabbed her body and held her close. He kissed her tight on the lips, his tongue exploring her mouth. He was short and she was taller than him, but she was much thicker, so he looked even smaller in comparison, like she could have swallowed him up whole if she wanted.
His cock spasmed as he groaned into her mouth. His muscles tensed beneath the suit, which was now plastered to his chest with sweat. His balls drew up in his sac, and for the first time since this had begun, he gripped Avery’s bare asscheeks. He loudly orgasmed, gasping and heaving in the shadowy alley.
Wink held Avery in place and swayed his hips from side to side, humping every inch of his insides. Cum sprayed over his prostate, triggering Avery’s own orgasm at last. He sprayed his wad onto the garbagey alley ground, while Wink’s load coated his body.
Wink kept on ramming, sucking on the prostitute’s tongue and tweaking her nipples with both hands. His cock rammed in and out of Avery’s cum-dripping ass. The more he rammed, the more of a mess he made — Wink had developed this game with his cellmate, making his load frothy, spilling out, bubbling forth in a big drippy wad that made him gag and laugh.
“Damn, boy, you take it — I mean, damn, girl, you got real nasty there, that was nice,” Wink said. He whistled. He pointed to the messy ass. “You see that, Bethlyn? Lookit that. That is some nasty anal. That is right. That’s how you do it That’s how you do it!.”
“I do that, sugah,” Bethlyn said like she was offended at the insinuation that she didn’t know how. “You know my price. You know I don’t give no discounts on anal, not no how.”
He smiled. He kissed Bethlyn on the lips. “Yo’ daddy lettin’ you go out sometime, baby? I take you out to dinner-“
“No, sugah, that ain’t allowed,” she said. She pulled her dress back up over her tits.
He shrugged like he was expecting that answer, which he was: he asked her that every time she sucked him off. She said no every time he hired her, which was most weeks — basically unless she was with a different john when he arrived. He didn’t like waiting for her because it gave him plenty of time to wonder what kind of guy she was with, and then she’d inevitably taste like another man when he did get to kiss her. He knew that she was with a lot of men regardless, it was just easier to forget that when he didn’t have to wait for her to be finished with them.
“Hey, girl,” he said to Avery as he smacked Avery’s asscheeks. “Will you suck my nut out yo’ asshole? I want that. That’s hot, man. I love that. Ain’t no kinda girls ever do that. I never seen a female do that, and it turns me on so much-” He paused, then lied as he realized he had sort of admitted he did this with a man before “I mean, some girls do it, some do. That’s how I know how hot it is. But a lot of ‘em won’t do it, nuh-uh.” The only person he had ever seen suck cum out of his own ass was his cellmate, but Wink wasn’t about to admit that.
“Okay, yeah,” Avery said.
Wink smiled. He let go of the prostitute and slowly withdrew his limp dick. He gagged at the sight of juices dripping from it. He laughed so loud it echoed against the walls of the dumpster. “Ugh, this is so nasty, girl, I love it. I’m gonna love you too if you do this. I swear to God, I will marry you any day if you promise to do ass-to-mouth. So fuckin’ nasty. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty. I love it.”
He stroked his cock with one hand. It was so sensitive he yelped and his body undulated beneath the suit. He loosened the tie with his other hand. He rammed two fingers into Avery’s ass. He gagged again, laughing nervously at his own reaction. He clawed inside Avery’s body, causing a torrent of pain and exquisite post-orgasmic pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and watched with wide-eyed amazement as Avery sucked them clean.
His fingers and hand were soaked in cum and assjuice. Avery loved it. If he had thought Wink would ever agree to finger his asshole, he would have asked — he would have paid more if he knew it was an option, so he was glad Wink had initiated it for free instead. Wink’s fingers were callused and scarred, and they tasted like stale sweat beneath the assjuice and cum. When he had finished with Wink’s hand, Avery slurped on his sensitive shaft, sucking down all the fluids and grime and caked-on sweat sticking to it. Wink shuddered as a burst of ecstasy wracked his body, and Bethlyn walked on with a sick look on her face.
“That was so disgusting, girl, I love it,” he said to Avery. “I swear to God, I will marry you, baby.” He paused. “I ain’t serious, I know you ain’t no girl. I won’t marry you. No how, no way.”
“I know,” Avery said. He pulled his own pants up. He felt grimy and dirty, but he loved that feeling. He watched Wink tuck away his own cock and zip his slacks back up.
Daddy’s here, where’s my money, babies?!
A black man in a fine blue suit — this one was perfectly tailored, vibrantly colored and clean as a whistle — Slim Jay — walked into the alley. He bellowed, and the prostitutes at the other end of the alley all spoke at once. There was a chorus of feminine voices.
The pimp didn’t notice Bethlyn there, so she stepped out from behind him. She smiled and giggled to get his attention.
“Oh, hello, baby, whatchoo doin’ back there?” He saw Wink. “G’evenin’, Wink. You got yo’ usual?”
Wink laughed. “Not the usual, exactly. But I got what I need, nigga, no pro’lem.” He walked away, dapping his head as he walked, dancing to an unheard beat just like he was when he entered the alley.
Avery hid there in the shadows for a moment, while the prostitute handed her money over and explained what had happened. When her pimp glowered like the money she had earned was not enough, Avery wondered if he was going to get in trouble after all.
So he fled into the night. He was thin and quick, and the pimp didn’t know he was there, so he just darted right past him and ran out of the alley, still tasting remnents of his own ass and Wink’s cock. He didn’t wash all night, so he could keep savoring the flavor.
He had no idea that Wink did something similar — he didn’t wash his dick off either, even though it was dirty. He went to bed stinking of a small, effeminate man, hoping to dream of that cellmate whose tender touch he still craved.

The Gangsta Bottoms

Avery is at a bachelor party when the others guys all go off with a ho. He’s not interested, but the pimp Slim Jay has something for everyone… even when that something is an anatomically gifted alpha male gangsta willing to bend over and let this twink climb on top!

Can Avery find satisfaction from Slim Jay’s diverse stable?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was embarrassed for himself because he assumed Slim Jay was a mugger at first. Luckily he didn’t respond based on that assumption, so no one knew what he thought.
He and the rest of Jinky’s bachelor party had stumbled out of Lipsweet, a strip club in Lawndale, Chicago. They were all in high spirits, even Avery who thought he’d hate that part of the evening. He was not into strippers. It was fun enough though, and the other partygoers bought Avery a bunch of drinks. That was good, because cash was strapped right now.
The fresh air was cold and invigorating, but it came with a brisk wind that soon made it uncomfortable. Avery did not like the Chicago weather. It was only October, and it already felt like February. The men he was partying with, including the soon-to-be groom Jinky, were drunk, most of them drunker than Avery. They were loud and rambunctious. That soon dwindled though, once they were out of the strip club.
When they made it around the corner, Slim Jay was waiting. He shook hands with Jinky, while Avery reached for his wallet before realizing that this was not a mugging.
Slim Jay was a pimp. He had dark brown skin, a clean-shaven chin beneath his handsome face, which was marred by a scar — which looked recent — that stretched almost to one eye, like someone had attempted to gouge out his eye. He wore a violet suit and a yellow tie, with a purple hat and white belt, and somehow the clashing colors all worked on his muscular frame. He was flanked by a bevy of beautiful women in slutty clothes.
“Alright, gentlemen,” he said. “Step right up and pick the female of yo’ choosing. It’s all been paid for. Y’all got the bachelor party package. Congrats to the lucky groom. You pick first.” He nodded to Jinky.
The guys all jostled, confused at first, then excited. The best man had paid for this, that was why he was making smirky comments about “not nutting in your pants before the afterparty” all night. What was even the point of all the lapdances then? Avery rolled his eyes. They could have seen a show or gone to a nice restaurant and still fucked these cheap-ass whores all night. Or for an hour or two, since Avery doubted that these women were paid enough to spend a whole night with every man here.
Well, every man minus one. Avery didn’t intend to do it.
The others all paired off with a girl, and they headed in giggley pairs to a cheap motel across the street, the Top Inn. Jinky himself went first and got two beautiful girls, the two cleanest-looking ones in the group. That was apparently part of the ‘bachelor party package’ that the pimp had offered.
Awkward and nervous, Avery hung around until the end. It seemed they were all so excited to get laid after hours of being blue-balled in the strip club that none of Avery’s friends noticed he was left last. Finally there were only two girls left, one rather fat and the other horse-faced, which was presumably why they had been last to be chosen.
“Well? Pick one, honky,” Slim Jay said when Avery was the only one left. “I ain’t got all night.”
“Oh, uh… No, thanks. I’m uh…” Avery blushed. “No, thank you.”
“He don’t wanna, Slim Jay,” said the fat one with a chuckle. “Ain’t you see that? He got a wrist limp as a dead snake, and-“
“Shut up, Bethlyn,,” Slim Jay said. He peered closely at Avery.
“No offense, it’s just not my thing. I don’t sleep with prostitutes. I’m not even… I didn’t even get any lapdances in there. Well, one, but that wasn’t my choice,” Avery said. “I’m friends with Jinky from where he used to work, I don’t even know most of those guys-“
“Shut up,” Slim Jay said. He stroked his chin. “You like my hos?”
“Uh… Not… in a sexual way,” Avery said. “They’re cool and all.” He gave a smile and a nod hello to the thick ho, who smiled more eagerly back. She waved at him. “I love your top.”
“Thank you, baby,” she cooed, the motion of which made her corpulent breasts jiggle.
“Shut up.”
Slim Jay nodded. “You Christian?”
Avery nodded.
“Fine. Go to Room 16. Just wait there. I’ll send you someone.” Slim Jay turned and walked away, pulling out his cell phone as he went.
The fat prostitute and the awkward, horsey-faced girl shrugged. They followed after Slim Jay, who went toward the motel lobby. Not sure what else to do, Avery just went to Room 16. If nothing else, he could wait there until the other groomsmen were done. This would not be the first time he waited for other men to be done at a brothel. Room 16 was unlocked, even though this was one of those motel rooms whose doors automatically lock. The lock was disabled, apparently.
He had just given up on Slim Jay doing anything when there was a knock at the door.
Avery got up from the bed, where he had been trying to figure out the remote control. He wasn’t into prostitutes. If Slim Jay brought him a new ho, Avery was just going to tell her to leave.
Standing there, glowering in the doorway to Room 16, was Nutter, a tall, broad-shouldered black man with a barrel chest and a cocky grin on his face. He wore a powder-blue baseball cap backwards, and a large crucifix was tattooed running up his sternum to his neck. He had dark brown skin that was smooth and creamy, and he carried with him a bottle of malt liquor that he finished as he entered the room.
“Yo,” he said, showing off his alluring smile and dimples. He stepped in, his muscular chest tense and puffed out like he meant to intimidate someone, despite the smiling face. “I’m Nutter.”
Slim Jay stood outside the door, with his arms crossed over his violet suit and purple tie. He smiled at Avery’s shocked face. “Nutter’ll do anything you say. Have a good bachelor party, man”
“Thanks…” Avery’s voice trailed off. He had no idea what was going on. The motel room door slammed shut. Of course, the lock had been disabled, so it simply bounced in the doorframe before settling on the threshold, barely shut at all.
But the door was shut enough to give an air of privacy to the dingy motel room.
“You blow weed?” Nutter asked. He pulled out a blunt he had been keeping behind one of his ears. He lit it and puffed til it had a good cherry, then he passed it to Avery, who took a deep drag. He hadn’t smoked a blunt since high school, so he coughed before passing it back. Nutter smiled. Avery took another hit, then passed it to Nutter, who puffed on it like a smokestack. He sucked down like a third of the blunt in his two hits.
Then Nutter held the smoke in his open mouth before exhaling a long plume. “A’ight… You want me to jerk you off, right? Let’s get it over wit’. You gonna stick me in the ass, honky?”
“Oh. Uh… Okay. Yeah, I, uh… I do that, do you, uh, mean…?” Avery was sure he had heard this wrong. He had to laugh at his own nervousness. This was like a dream, he told himself, you better not get so nervous you can’t even take advantage of it while you can. There was no way Slim Jay had a stable of both pretty women — kinda pretty — as well as this alpha male mandingo with the huge muscles and a no-doubt tight ass.
Nutter put the blunt down on the ashtray on the nightstand. He took off his hat, removed his shirt, then put his hat back on. His bare chest muscles rippled.
“So, uh… Nutter, are you…? I mean, uh, do you work, uh, for Slim Jay?”
“You mean am I a ho like a bitch?” Nutter asked. He scoffed. He stood up. He took another puff on the blunt, then exhaled the smoke directly in Avery’s face. “Do I look like a female ho?”
“No! That’s why I was asking! You didn’t seem like it, like that,” Avery said. What if he got beat up and robbed? Did Slim Jay really have any reason to trust Nutter? What if this was a set-up?
“No. I do not work for Slim Jay, whiteboy. I got cash, see?” He pulled out a wad of hundred dollar bills. “I got whores of my own, turnin’ tricks for me. Ya dig?”
“Oh. You’re a pimp?”
“Not ‘xactly, but yeah. I got whores workin’ for me, so…” He shrugged as he took off his clean sneakers.
Avery nervously undressed. He was a thin and delicate man, and he felt tiny standing next to Nutter, who was a round-chested, bulging-muscled macho. His chiseled torso was smooth, but Avery could tell it was only because he shaved it, whereas Avery had always been naturally smooth.
“You smell like girl,” Nutter said. He inhaled deeply.
“Uh… I guess… thanks?” Avery said. His dick dangled between his legs. He was proud of it — he rivaled Nutter’s own cock size. Judging from the look on Nutter’s face, he had intended to make fun of Avery for having a small dick and was annoyed to see that Avery didn’t, so he couldn’t.
Nutter got down on his knees. He laughed. “You believe me that I’m alpha as fuck?”
“Yeah!” Avery said. He blurted it out, and as soon as he said it, it was apparent that Nutter didn’t believe him, which made sense since Avery’s instinct was to say no.
“No, you don’t. You just want me to jerk you off,” Nutter said. “But you don’t get it.” He took Avery’s dick in hand and put it in his mouth, for just a second. “See? I can do it.”
“Yeah, I-“
Nutter scowled and frowned at Avery. “I was locked up for a long time, that’s all. I had a girlfriend. I mean, she was a boy, but I plowed her like a bitch and I always call her a her. I-“
“You had a girlfriend in prison-?”
“Don’t interrupt me. I plowed her ass until it turned into a pussy. She grew a clit just to satisfy me, whiteboy, and so I could make her cum so hard her teeth fall out. You believe that?”
“Well… Not really. No…”
“Shut up. I did it, I swear to God,” he said. He kissed Avery’s cock on the tip. “She had a dick like yours. Sometimes I liked to satisfy her dick. It feels good to be close to someone, y’know. Can’t be alone forever. I wanted to make someone happy, ya dig?”
“Yeah,” Avery said. “That makes sense.” He had trouble concentrating because Nutter seemed so aggressive even though his words were not. Avery couldn’t even think about what Nutter was saying. Nutter just scoffed at Avery, flopping his limp dick between his fingers.
“So go fuck yourself, whiteboy,” Nutter said. Then he swallowed Avery’s dick again.
The hostility in the air made Avery nervous. He disliked confrontation. But the anxiety actually made this even better than he expected — in truth, Nutter had an awkward, sloppy mouth. Avery felt his teeth more than once, and he attacked Avery’s dick as though he was angry with it. Avery couldn’t stop thinking about how Nutter could bite his dick off anytime.
That didn’t stop him from getting hard though, and the more anxious he got, the more his dick spasmed and throbbed, stiffening and prodding Nutter’s throat. Since Nutter was so big, he could deep-throat Avery easily, and with just a little struggle, he managed to nestle his nose deep into Avery’s flesh. Pleasure bubbled up Avery’s body.
“Aw, okay, oh god…” Avery babbled, too anxious to keep his mouth shut. It felt so good he stood on his toes and his eyes fluttered, hands hovering above Nutter’s head.
Finally Nutter pulled away. He swallowed, snorted and sniffled. He shot an angry look up at Avery, who blushed and turned his head away. Nutter stood and reached for his pants. He withdrew a bottle of lube.
“You wanna get in my ass, whiteboy?”
“Uh… okay… Yeah,” Avery said.
Nutter continued his hostile glare, never breaking eye contact for a moment as he squeezed lube out onto his hand. He rubbed it between his asscheeks. “You ain’t half the man Ramon was.”
“Okay. Ramon?”
“That was my girl, man.” Nutter spat onto the carpet. He sounded like he thought Avery should have already known that. “In prison. She tasted better than you.” He smirked at Avery, then he shook his head.
“Oh. Sorry,” Avery said. “You know, I’m like… cool with that, right?”
“Yes, you are. You wanted to ram a big black buck, and so that’s what Slim Jay got.”
“Whoah, that is not what happened. I never asked Slim Jay for anything,” Avery said. “You came in here and asked to jerk me off. You asked me to stick you in the ass. So I’m doing it. Don’t get mad at me for doing what you asked me to.” Avery blushed. He was rarely that confrontational with anyone.
Nutter bristled and wrinkled his nose. Then he smiled again. “Whatever, fuck Slim Jay. He’s a shithead. I turned his mom out, y’know,” he said. “She’s a trashy crackwhore.”
“Oh. Okay,” Avery said, slim-lipped and sucking in his breath.
“You’ll go at me hard, right?” he said. “I can take it.” He bent over the bedspread and clutched the blanket there. His big brown ass was bare, gleaming with lubricant.
Avery gulped and spread his asscheeks. He felt small in comparison to Nutter, whose asscheeks were wider than Avery’s entire chest. He rubbed each cheek and moaned at the power he felt in their quivering flesh.
“You gotta get lower,” Avery said softly. “You’re too tall.” His dick was at Nutter’s knee-height.
“Damn, short-ass whiteboy,” he said. He scooted down so he squatted on his ankles. Avery had to sit on the ground under him, making for a very awkward position since Nutter was much bigger and heavier than he was. Nutter chuckled, and his massive muscles writhed in front of Avery’s face. “Ramon was not that short.”
“It sounds like you really cared about him,” Avery said as he wedged his dick in.
“Her!” He barked so angrily Avery didn’t understand what he said at first. Then Nutter said, “Ramon was my bitch. I let her do things to me cuz I loved her, and I needed a tangible expression of my love.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Avery said. “Her. Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, man, get goin’,” he said. “Come on, hurry up.”
Avery nodded and started to work his dick in. It felt like Nutter hadn’t taken any dick in a long time. His asshole was so tight Avery wasn’t sure this would work. But he squeezed on more lube and slowly got his dick in there, inch by inch.
Soon Avery was all the way in his ass, which squeezed and clenched around his cock. He moaned as little sparks of pleasure erupted in his manhood, and it throbbed in Nutter’s tight guts. Avery topped so rarely that he felt weird doing it now, especially in this awkward position.
But Nutter appeared to only be willing to do it like this. He kneeled in front of the bed as though he was going to start praying. His gold and platinum chains dangled around his neck, and his muscles all tensed as he struggled to accept Avery’s dick.
“You gotta relax,” Avery said when Nutter’s tight body started making it difficult for Avery to keep plowing him.
Nutter took a deep breath. He wrenched his body and gasped. Avery couldn’t tell if he was in pain or pleasure or both, but Nutter writhed. He leapt up and onto the bed so fast he dragged Avery with him.
And then Avery was literally on his back, supported entirely by Nutter’s spasming muscles. Since he had no leverage, it was all Avery could do to hold onto Nutter’s shoulders like a rodeo-rider on a rampaging bull. Avery’s body was wracked by intense sensations, which made him moan and groan, the sound of which was swallowed up by Nutter’s back.
“I would give you a reacharound,” Avery said breathlessly. His hands tried to grope around Nutter’s body, but Avery’s arms were much too short. He could barely finger Nutter’s erect, precum-leaking cock. “But I can’t reach.”
“Ramon always gave a reacharound,” Nutter muttered. “She loved me. Like a good bitch.” He took another deep breath and winced as Avery started to move his hips in a circle. That reawakened the bliss coursing through Avery’s veins.
Since Avery just laid on Nutter’s back and ass for now, he couldn’t plow. He just swayed, moving his dick around in Nutter’s ass as Nutter slowly grew comfortable with it. Nutter’s back muscles writhed, his tattoos gleaming with the sweat that collected there.
Eventually it felt like Nutter had grown used to Avery’s dick in his ass. Avery massaged his back and licked up the salty beads of sweat that dappled his flesh. Nutter moaned, his hostility gone now. Avery was able to slowly grind his dick in and out, every centimeter’s worth of motion wracking both men’s bodies with spasms and shocks of pleasure.
“Yeah, stick it in me, whiteboy,” he said. “You got a bigger dick than Ramon. It hurts more. But it feels good more too.” He chuckled but cut off his laughter when the movement made the pain worse.
Avery smiled. “Yeah. I got a big dick. Not as big as yours,” he said. He wasn’t sure that was strictly true, but he saw the wisdom in pumping up Nutter’s pride. Nutter did straighten his back out when he heard that.
Then Nutter’s cell phone rang. He roared in frustration, reached down to his pants and pulled out the cell phone. “Keep it down, whiteboy,” he said. His movement made his asshole squeeze around Avery’s cock. “I gotta take this. You might hear me get real.”
“Oh. Okay,” Avery said, too overwhelmed by passion to think about what that might mean.
“What?” Nutter said by way of greeting into the phone. “Uh-huh. No. No. No. No. No! You know my answer, Coolie. You pay me tomorrow.” He groaned into the phone. “Shut up, bitch. I’m fuckin’ a female in the ass. You wanna hear her croon?” He held up the phone to Avery, who was startled. He let out a feminine oah, ooh! “You hear that, Coolie? I just might hear you making that sound if you don’t pay me — well, it ain’t that hard, motherfucker. Just charge the shitmunchers more to make up for it. If you was a real hustler, you could it, nigga! Lil Bee do it. Rakhim Shockley do it. Wink do it. Nailboy do it,” he said. His face was red and screwed up, his anger at Coolie mixing with the intensity of being rammed in his sensitive ass. He roared into the phone. “You can do it too. Nailboy is straight up retarded, you fuckin’ bitch-ass nigga, you sell that shit and pay me tomorrow, or I will get the money outta yo’ ass!” By the time he hung up, Nutter was screaming so loud it made the light fixtures rattle. Avery was sure people in other rooms could hear that. His shouting made his asshole squeeze, sending shoots of pleasure through Avery’s body.
Avery was perfectly motionless, focusing on not orgasming despite Nutter’s massaging his dick. He was terrified of the argument — he had seen enough movies to worry that a driveby was coming next. But Nutter didn’t seem upset about it.
“Sorry ya had to hear me act like that,” Nutter said, his voice tense and clipped, Avery’s cock throbbing in his ass. “I know street talk makes white folk uncomfortable.” He sniffled. “Now get back to business.”
“Okay, yeah, sure, okay,” Avery said. “Cool. Fine.” He took a deep breath to stop himself from babbling again.
He took his dick all the way out, then pushed it back in with a loud sigh. He got up on his knees, while Nutter remained laying on his belly on the bed, one hand underneath himself jacking his own manhood.
That gave Avery leverage. He worked his dick in and out, and they both moaned in harmony with each other. Nutter had a deep, baritone voice that resonated in the rickety motel, while Avery’s flamboyant lilt gave the sound a musical air.
Avery was short enough and Nutter’s body was thick enough that Avery could plow his plump, bubbling cheeks while Avery kneeled behind him and Nutter laid on his belly. Avery just rocked his body forward, slipping his dick all the way in and most of the way out.
One of Avery’s hands gripped the bed beneath him, while the other kneaded the thick meaty slab of flesh over Nutter’s shoulder. Nutter moaned loudly. Each thrust of Avery’s hips brought both men closer to their climaxes.
His asshole clenched, and the smell of cum filled the air. Avery moaned as well, as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He felt the most incredible sensation of his life bursting deep within his body. His muscles all tightened.
The feeling of Nutter’s orgasm was palpable in the squeezing of his asshole and his muscles writhing in Avery’s delicate fingers. Nutter spurted a massive load into his hand and onto the bedspread. It soaked into the fabric there and filled the air with its cottony-sour scent. Nutter inhaled deeply of the aroma, while the first drops of cum filled up Nutter’s ass and landed on his sensitive prostate.
For a moment, Avery felt as strong as Nutter was — it was ridiculous, of course, since Nutter was easily twice Avery’s size. Avery pounded on his chest and roared, the sound drowned out by Nutter’s much deeper, louder grunting.
Cum sprayed into Nutter’s ass. It was a huge load, bigger than any Avery had ever shot. He just kneeled there motionless, using Nutter’s muscular back for support. He threw his head back and moaned his eyes, his girlish moan filling the air as wad after wad of jizz flooded Nutter’s ass.
Finally Avery was done. But his orgasm continued, in great waves as he felt Nutter’s muscles contract and flex beneath him. His cum filled up Nutter’s body and dripped out, further soaking the motel’s bedspread.
“God damn,” Nutter said with an exhausted moan. “You like that, whiteboy?”
“Hell yeah…” Avery said as he pulled out his limpening manhood. He took a deep breath. He was suddenly dizzy, overwhelmed by both fear and desire — he had visions of that Coolie person who had been on the phone coming by to fight with Nutter. Avery leaned down and kissed each of Nutter’s cheeks, which trembled beneath his lips.
“Clean up my ass now, bitch,” Nutter barked. Avery grabbed the tissues of the nightstand. He cleaned up Nutter’s ass, where creamy white cum flowed out of it.
Then Nutter stood and stretched his legs. He avoided eye contact with Avery as he got dressed.
“Thanks,” Avery said.
“Thank Slim Jay,” Nutter said. He shrugged. “If anyone asks, you was in here beggin’ me fo’ some free crack. I made you jerk me off and then I still ain’t give you none.”
“Uh… okay,” Avery said. He sat back on the bed. He had no intention of telling anyone that, but he wasn’t going to tell Nutter no.
When Nutter was dressed, he sneered at Avery’s naked body. “You skinny as shit,” he said. “You gotta get bigger.” He relit the blunt he had placed in the ashtray before. He took a deep breath and glanced out the window. “Aw, fuck, there’s that Coolie nigga. I’m-a go beat his ass. Have a good time, y’know, wit’ whatevuh whiteboys do.”
He left before Avery could answer. Avery crept forward to the window, where he watched Nutter stride out into the street. He confronted a trashy-looking, low-class thug, and they argued but soon walked away from the well-lit motel parking lot.
Avery got dressed and stepped out. By then, Jinky and the other groomsmen were finishing up with their prostitutes as well. Slim Jay smiled when Avery came out of the hotel room and met up with the others.
“You have fun, man?” he asked.
Avery nodded.
“Fo’ real?” Slim Jay asked, and in the way he raised his eyebrow, it seemed Slim Jay knew what had happened in here. He knew that Nutter had bottomed, and he knew that Avery wasn’t supposed to reveal that.
“Yeah,” Avery said with a smile. “I jerked him off, y’know. He’s an alpha male, a real gangsta. He throated me down hard. I, uh… I couldn’t take it. He’s too hardcore for me.”

A curtsy nod

She got no hankering for no elderly homeboy who smelled like a basement. She want whiteboy dingdong, most likeishly.

She ported a tray of drinks past the front door and delivered a curtsy nod at Buck. Him and Lem stopped short, though she ain’t have eyes fer Lem, prolly cuz she got no hankering for no elderly homeboy who smelled like a basement. She want whiteboy dingdong, most likeishly.

From Buck on the Oil Rig

Jeb ain’t never seen a woman’s thighs go up that high

Pretty ladies with dark hair and flashing smiles, bare shoulders that left little to the imagination…

There was three right there near the port, pretty ladies with dark hair and flashing smiles, bare shoulders that left little to the imagination. Jeb’s eyes opened wide at the one of them, the short one, with a blouse that showed off her cleavage’s curves and a short skirt that revealed her creamy thighs.
Jeb ain’t never seen a woman’s thighs go up that high.

From Jeb the Farmboy

She be out flippin’ her pussy at any man with dollahs to spare!

This bitch would fall in love wit’ me if we met, and you know I would put it to her good. She look like she know things, you get me.

“This bitch would fall in love wit’ me if we met, and you know I would put it to her good. She look like she know things, you get me, you can feel it coming outta her,” Lem said vociferously. Despite that, he didn’t even show the magazine to them, he just kept talking about the woman in it. He seemed to have forgotten that he started talking about her to compare her to the prostitute at the brothel in town where the roughnecks got leave but now was talking about her in her own right. “I wouldn’t settle down wit’ her though. She don’t look like a one-man kinda woman, bet on it. She be out flippin’ her pussy at any man with dollahs to spare! Believe that!”

From Roughnecks Got Oral Needs!

Wuzu the Yakuza

When Teddy the bartender gets to swing on some yakuza alpha male meat, he jumps at the massive macho Wuzu. Wuzu is treated like a dumb brute by the other yakuza, so can Teddy tame this wild beast?

Read it now!