featuring soldiers – Mansploitation

The Soldier

Avery is working the front desk at the legendary Night Along Motel when he runs into the soldier on leave Willie Redman. Willie is a redneck alpha willing to giving Avery a taste of his manhood, if Avery can take it…

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Every couple of weeks Avery’s job sucked. Normally he enjoyed it — a hotel clerk is a low-stress position, and with sales incentives he normally met, Avery could make pretty good money. It wasn’t what he wanted to do — own his own florist shop — but it paid the bills and came with its own perks.
About once a month, the guys from the local military base, Fort Rumblemore, had a weekend of leave. They often came to Avery’s hotel, and they were always drunk, rowdy and left a huge mess behind. Since they were price-sensitive, they almost never paid for anything from the minibar or anything on pay-per-view, so the hassle of dealing with them was not worth it to Avery.
But this night was especially bad for him. Not only did he have to deal with the Rumblemore boys getting drunk in their rooms before hitting the bars, he was depressed to begin with because his girlfriend Shawna dumped him. He had been upset but thought going to work might help — if he had known it was going to be an armyboys night, he would have called out sick for sure.
Finally the armymen all made their way out to the bars. A few drifted back over the next few hours, but they had females and went straight to their rooms. Their kissing was a little more risqué than Avery liked in his lobby, but he knew better than to ask them to stop. The best course of action was simply to let them go fuck their slut in their room and wait for them to check out in the morning.
The sound of frenzied rutting could be heard when he walked down the hall, emanating from their rooms. More than once an almost entirely naked soldier bumped into him as he drunkenly stumbled off to the ice machine, towel loosely draped around his waist. They stank of cum, and it made Avery so horny he wished he had a free moment to jack off in the bathroom.
Around midnight the last of them came back. He was Willie Redman, a Texan with the sunburnt shoulders of a real redneck, leaner than a lot of the soldiers but ropy with muscle and an elegant tattoo reading Texas-Made on his upper back. He had a loping gait like he was more comfortable astride a horse, and he sucked on his teeth in a friendly way when he nodded hello. He stopped in front of the desk.
“Can I help you, sir?” Avery asked.
“I… I don’t remembuh my room number,” he said.
“I’ll show you. Follow me, sir,” Avery said. He walked down the hall to his room, which was at the far end.
“Hey, hotel clerks know about…” He trailed off as though too embarrassed to go on. “Women? Like… Women that I can… fuck?”
Willie was not the first soldier to ask him this. “No,” Avery said. “I don’t know any prostitutes. I don’t know much about women at all. Sorry.” In truth, he did know of some prostitutes, but he knew better than to get involved — he could be charged as a pimp if the police found out, which was a felony sex crime, worse than either being or hiring a prostitute.
And Avery had no desire to hook handsome soldiers up with women. Avery had other plans for the hunky soldier in front of him.
They were in front of Willie’s door. Willie blanched and said, “I struck out tonight. I was really hoping to get laid. I only got tonight. Tomorrow I ship out to Iraq.”
Avery opened the hotel room door and held it open for him. Willie’s muscles throbbed underneath his sleeveless t-shirt (no wonder he struck out, Avery thought, women don’t normally go for the rough redneck on leave look).
Willie stepped through the threshold, then turned around. “Hey,” he said, “Do you… You can say no, it ain’t a big deal, but do you… Wanna swallow my dick?”
Avery was so surprised he didn’t have a response, but in truth he thought Willie’s redneck soldier look was so arousing he could barely control himself. He wanted nothing more than to taste his dick. He wasn’t expecting this to be so easy. Usually men require a little persuasion. “Yes,” Avery said. He followed him into the room. That was easier than he was expecting.
Soldiers were like that though. They just wanna get their dick wet.
“I never done this before,” Willie said as he sat on the edge of his bed. His head lolled on his shoulders as though he was already half-passed out.
Avery knelt in front of him and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
He undid Willie’s camo pants, revealing those olive-green PT shorts. They were a little small, so Willie’s bulging cock and balls were readily apparent, straining against the fabric.
Willie let out an awkward moan and looked away. The smell of liquor on his breath was strong, and stale, drunken sweat wafted into Avery’s nostrils as he got started.
He licked Willie’s crotch through his underwear, tasting the salty cotton flavor. Willie laughed a little as though surprised. He leaned back on the bed, keeping his hands up by his head like he was frightened he might accidentally touch Avery.
Avery fished his cock out through the fly of his boxers, and he licked it from tip to root. It had a ruddy quality, and a well-worn thickness that reminded Avery of Willie’s redneck swagger.
His dick got hard right away despite the awkwardness of the situation and Willie’s rather advanced drunkenness. His thick shaft pulsated hotly and leaked precum down Avery’s throat.
It had all happened so fast that Avery was only just then realizing how much trouble he could get in. He was supposed to be working, and consorting with customers in their rooms was strictly forbidden.
But Willie was oblivious to any risk. He grunted as he neared orgasm already, and his balls lifted up in his sac. His eyes closed, then opened wide, then closed again. Avery worked on Willie’s nipples with one hand, using the other to stimulate his shaft.
“You gonna swallow?” Willie mumbled. Asking was a polite gesture, Avery thought, but Willie asked too late for it to matter. Before he even finished asking, cum was spurting down Avery’s throat.
He shot a huge load with a nice thickness that coated Avery’s gullet. He moaned at the savory, salty taste flooding his senses. It was intense, and Avery loved it, swallowing it but letting it fill his mouth first, so it would overflow and coat Willie’s cock and Avery could slurp it all in again. That slurping made Willie’s whole body shake because it extended his orgasm. As long as Avery worked on his cum-dribbling shaft, Willie moaned and groaned, hands fluttering uselessly above his head.
Avery kept on Willie’s sensitive shaft until he was drunkenly pulled off. Willie was already half-asleep, it seemed, and Avery wiped his dick off with a tissue before leaving. He couldn’t resist spending a moment to fondle Willie’s tight pectoral muscles and perfectly round ass, savoring their well-sculpted feel.
But that was it. Avery assumed that when this was over, it was over. Rough trade was usually that way. Willie was a beautiful sight, sprawled out there on the bed, sleeping it off. But like all beautiful things, it wasn’t going to last.
After spending the night with Willie, Avery moved on. He didn’t think there was any chance Willie would return. He wasn’t even stationed at Rumblemore, he was told by some of the other soldiers, Willie had been assigned to a classified mission and may never return to the area. The other soldiers all pretended they knew where he was and couldn’t say, but Avery was certain they didn’t know and just wanted to seem “in-the-loop”.
He resigned himself to the probability that he would never see Willie again. Avery couldn’t feel too bummed out about it. That was part of this industry, and in any case, Avery enjoyed that he met a variety of men in this job.
But then Willie did return. He came back a couple months later.
He was in the waiting room when Avery strode in, not noticing him at first. Willie stood straight and erect at the check-in counter, while Avery gave an elderly tourist couple their room key. Avery’s hands started shaking when he saw who it was. Memories of that fantastic cock filled Avery’s mind.
“Hey,” he said when he stepped forward. Willie wore only a white sleeveless t-shirt, one whose sleeves he had obviously ripped off. His strapping chest was visible from the sides. He carried a ratty old backpack slung over his shoulder. His voice was clipped and curt, as though he was either addressing a superior officer or was controlling his emotions. “I… Look, I remember what happened before, and…”
His voice trailed off. Avery’s heart started pounding just like the first time. He was surprised Willie remembered considering how drunk he had been. He had seemed blackout-drunk at the time, Avery thought. Willie bit his lip nervously.
“You wanna do it again?” Avery said, trying to hide the shock in his voice.
“My girl dumped me. I decided not to re-enlist in the Army so we could be together, and she dumped me as soon as I made it official,” Willie said, blushing so hard his cheeks matched his shoulders. “I don’t wanna try to find some slut… I mean, a female slut… I need to get my rocks off. And I’m sick of chicks right now.”
Avery smiled at his awkwardness. “Well, my boss is in right now. I have to stay up here at the desk until he’s gone,” Avery said. “But go on to your room. I’ll be there in a bit. He’s gonna go home soon, his wife has been nagging him about leaving earlier. I’ll remind him and get him out as soon as I can.”
Willie sighed in relief. He must have thought he might get in trouble, Avery thought. Willie’s muscles relaxed, and for a moment, Avery caught Willie’s musk hidden by cheap deodorant (or possibly not, Avery thought, it smelled like he had rubbed a car air freshener over his pits, that was a typical soldier move). Willie nodded as though he had been given an order, then grabbed his crotch — it looked like he was already getting hard. He sniffed at his pits. “I need to grab a shower…”
Avery blurted out, “No!” Then he blushed. “I mean, if you want to… But I wouldn’t mind, y’know, if you stank a little.”
Willie looked at him in disgust, then sighed and nodded as though he was compromising. “Okay, just come in when you can.” He did not understand people some times. Who wants a stinky man?
The rest of Avery’s shift was impossibly long. His boss was hanging around the office for even longer than usualy, and though Avery reminded him that his wife had been begging him to come home earlier, he only grunted and returned to his paperwork. It was too risky to be caught away from the front desk when Avery’s boss could leave his office anytime. Avery had been caught away from the front desk before. He couldn’t afford to do it again.
But he only had an hour and a half left on his shift, so he forced himself to wait it out no matter how arduously long it felt. Now that he knew he’d be with Willie when he get off, he couldn’t wait. He was virtually salivating at the opportunity, and he had to rearrange his pants to hide a boner several times.
Finally, just ten minutes before Avery’s shift was up anyway, his boss got a text from his wife that he couldn’t ignore, and he ran to his car so quick he had to come back to get his keys. Avery waited until he had driven away.
Then Avery knocked on Willie’s door. He heard him scamper to open it. Avery smiled. Willie must be very horny, he thought, he’s been waiting for me with baited breath.
Willie filled out the doorway, his muscular body barely fitting in it as he let Avery in. He was wearing nothing but his green PT shorts, his enormous cock bulging out of it as though he was about to burst. His whole body was dappled with sweat, and Avery saw one of those stretching arm exercise tools laying on the bed.
“I am so fucking horny,” Willie said and sighed. His muscles rippled, and his cock twitched in his boxers. “It’s been almost a week since I got my nut off. I decided to get my exercise in, is that okay? You sure you don’t want me to shower first?”
Avery didn’t even bother answering, he just dropped down and attacked Willie’s chest with his mouth. He licked every drop of salty sweat off his pecs, played with his nipples until Willie bristled with discomfort, then moved into his pits. He dived into Willie’s right armpit and sucked the sweat off his kinky black hair.
That all began so quick Willie gasped. Willie had to reach over Avery’s kneeling body to shut the door behind him.
Willie made a muffled revolted sound and twisted his torso as he gasped at the sensations roiling his body, then relented. He sneered down at Avery, who moved onto his left armpit and bicep. “You like armpits? I ain’t know any dudes was into that,” he said.
“Oh god yes,” Avery said.
“Does suckin’ armpits make yo’ own dick bigger?” Willie asked. That was the only reason that made sense for a man to do something like this. Willie wasn’t sure he believed that the sweat and jizz of a muscular man made other men stronger or tougher if they ingested it, but he assumed that was what Avery believed.
Avery nodded. He did not believe in that anymore than Willie did, but it was simpler to say he did believe it than to explain that he simply liked the odor and flavor of a man’s body.
“Thanks for not telling any of the other Army fellahs about this,” Willie said. “I never thought I’d do something like this. Definitely not a second time. I ain’t even drunk.”
Avery licked down Willie’s flat stomach to his crotch, and pulled down those stale green shorts. They smelled like a locker room, like he had kept them in the onbase gym and rarely bothered washing them. Willie’s long cock was rock-hard, reaching almost to his belly-button, pulsating, virtually begging Avery to deep-throat it right away.
Lifting Willie’s legs up as he laid on the bed, Avery swallowed both of Willie’s balls at once and suckled on them loudly. The gargling sound made Willie laugh nervously.
He moved on to Willie’s sweaty taint, his thick brownish-blond hairs plastered to his skin by stale man-musk. Avery licked every inch of it, from his thigh to his lower buttcrack. Willie’s whole body shook with intense, surprised pleasure, as Avery darted onto his cocktip and slurped on it.
Avery worked down his shaft, licking off every drop of musty sweat. He moaned, but stopped himself as Willie stiffened — apparently getting awkward because the sound of Avery’s moan reminded him he was not with a woman. He didn’t want to make this uncomfortable for Willie.
Willie said, “In Iraq, fellahs nearly all let guys get them off. As long as nobody finds out, they’re okay with it. They just pretend it didn’t happen.”
“We can pretend that too,” Avery said, hoping Willie would make this a regular event.
“They all think men are best at swallowing cock,” Willie said. “They all deepthroat. They have bigger mouths than women. That’s what this one Arab told me.”
Was that a not-so-subtle hint that he wanted Avery to go deeper? He thought so, and he was glad to try. He took a deep breath and pushed down on Willie’s shaft, getting most of his meat down his throat.
Willie grunted and stood. His knees buckled weakly but he remained upright, and wrapped both hands around Avery’s head. He began slowly working his hips back and forth, pushing his cock deep into Avery’s throat.
Avery took one of Willie’s hands and moved it to his nose, showing him how to pinch his nostrils shut. As soon as he did, Avery’s throat opened as his lungs gasped for air.
Willie closed his eyes as his cock slid the rest of the way in. Avery could feel it pulsating against his vocal cords and could feel the precum sticking to his stomach.
Avery stroked Willie’s heavy, pendulous balls just as they rose up in his sac. Moments later cum flooded Avery’s belly, filling him up inside. Avery groaned and came as well, shooting a load into his pants.
“Thanks a lot,” Willie said as he leaned back onto the bed. His moist cock plopped out of Avery’s gasping mouth. “This is a great hotel.”
Avery nodded and smiled. He left Willie there, naked and gleaming with post-sex sweat. He hoped to see him again in the morning.
But when he went back to the room, Willie was gone. Once again, he disappeared for a little while. Yet again, Avery tried to tell himself not to get his hopes up, not to lose sleep wondering if Willie would get desperate again. He was so hot, surely he could get some real pussy once he got his head right.
A few weeks later, however, Willie surprised Avery by coming back. He showed up near the end of Avery’s shift, his beard scruffy, wearing only a torn tank-top and scuffed jeans. His tanned muscles were lined with new tattoos: barbed wire, kanji characters and an ornate heraldic lion on his chest.
“Come on,” he said, no pretense of asking if Avery wanted to. He gestured down the hall towards the cheap rooms.
Avery showed him to a room he knew would remain empty. His heart thumped in his chest once again, as he felt Willie’s eyes checking out his body. He wondered if he could get some anal from Willie tonight.
“You’re still single?” Avery asked.
“I used to be able to get girls,” Willie nodded. “But not anymore. Is there something wrong with me?”
“No!” Avery blurted out, then blushed as he realized he sounded like a lovestruck teenager again. “You’re perfect! I mean… You have a perfect body.”
Avery showed him to a room and opened the door for him. He hesitated before going in.
“Whose room is this?”
Avery shrugged and said, “No one. No one rented it. The cable’s broken so it’s closed until the repair guy comes tomorrow.” He shut the door behind them. “So we got it to ourselves all night.”
He sat down on the bed. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”
“What? Of course I want to,” Avery said. Willie looked like he was on the verge of tears, so Avery sat next to him, not sure if it would seem too weird for him to hug. “If you don’t-“
“What’s wrong with me?”
“What? Nothing… You’re just having a dry spell, man. A guy who looks like you will be able to get laid again,” he said. “Ever since they closed down that state college campus extension on the other side of town, there hasn’t been as many hot young chicks around. You’re not the first man to notice that.”
“No… That’s not what I mean, I-” Willie stopped as though he only just processed what Avery had said, “Oh really? That explains a lot. But that’s still not really what I meant. I think I’m broken.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. Ever since I got out of the Army, I haven’t been right. I started crying yesterday for no reason,” he said, then blushed and stopped talking.
Avery rubbed his biceps in a way he hoped was both comforting and arousing. He didn’t want to seem insensitive, but he was ready to get on to the sex. One of his hands snaked underneath Willie’s torn t-shirt, fondling his tightly toned chest.
“You’re probably just having trouble adjusting to civilian life,” Avery said. “It’ll pass, baby.”
“You think? I… I think I have PTSD. Do you know what that is?”
Avery nodded.
“I have flashbacks to… some difficult things,” he said.
“You need some good experiences to balance out the bad,” Avery said. He reached into Willie’s crotch and stroked his dick through his jeans.
“Yeah… I guess so.”
Avery took that as assent and kneeled to take his dick in his mouth. Willie shucked his pants to his ankle, and his cock stood straight out the fly of his boxers.
Avery licked his dick, which tasted clean and soapy this time, with a deliciously funky smell to it. He let his tongue run up and down Willie’s pulsating ruddy shaft.
“I need to be inside you,” Willie said suddenly. He stood up and carefully removed his dick from Avery’s mouth.
“You mean… my butt?”
Willie nodded. “Yeah, sorry, I just assumed you’d be into that. Is that cool?” Even as he spoke, he pulled down Avery’s black uniform slacks and his underwear. He lightly slapped Avery’s asscheeks and spat into his hand, rubbing it into his cockshaft.
“Of course I’m into it, stick it in,” Avery said and cooed. He pressed his ass back onto Willie’s hot, moist cock.
Willie lined his dick up with Avery’s ass, then stopped himself. “No, Jesus don’t allow it. It’s in the Bible.” But he didn’t move away, he just kept his dick right at the entrance to Avery’s ass.
“Jesus doesn’t care, baby, as long as you don’t hurt anyone,” Avery said. He pushed his ass back onto Willie’s dick, sliding it up and down and savoring the feel of its hot thickness between his cheeks. “My ass wants you so bad.”
“I guess you’re right,” Willie said. It sounded like he was talking himself into it. “Less sinful than fornicatin’ with a woman in the ass, right?”
“That’s right. Less sinful, but a hundred times better,” Avery said.
Willie plunged into Avery’s ass, jabbing it right in. That sent a shockwave of pain through Avery’s spine, followed by a burst of pleasure. Willie had a huge cock that barely fit, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kept ramming more and more in.
“Is this how you fuck girls?” Avery asked. His voice was strained and breathless as he struggled to take every inch of Willie’s manhood.
Willie said yes but he was so horny it was barely intelligible. He sounded embarrassed by the question.
“You gotta go slow, baby. Work up to really slamming it in,” Avery said. He reached behind himself and gripped Willie’s cock. He worked it in himself.
“Like this?”
That felt a lot better, Avery thought and he told Willie so. “Focus on touching every inch of me.”
“What? My dick touches you-“
“I know it doesn’t really make sense, just focus on each piece of me. I love how your cock feels, baby,” Avery said, cooing as girl-like as he could muster. “Make me feel every inch of it. Girls don’t like it rough, Willie, you gotta be nice about it.”
As he worked back up to ramming and jamming into Avery’s ass, Willie groaned. He leaned over Avery’s body, his powerful, corded muscles writhing against Avery’s back.
“Here it comes, baby, here it comes,” Willie said.
Avery shot his own load onto the couch beneath him, just as he felt Willie cum as well. Hot semen flooded inside him, and dripped down his inner thighs. Neither of them moved at first, Avery savoring the feeling of hot cum covering his lower half and Willie’s wide muscles relaxing as his dick softened.
“Thanks for the lesson,” Willie said. His limp cock plopped out of Avery’s ass.
Avery grinned. “It’ll take more practice,” he said. “But we can keep working on it. I won’t give up on you.”

The Private

On a layover, Avery runs into Private Edmond Samberg, who could use some cash… and a mouth on his alpha male manhood. These are the kinds of problems Avery is prepared to solve!

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Avery woke up with an aching back. He yawned. The terminal was quiet. There were sleeping travelers scattered everywhere. He was in Dulles airport, in Northern Virginia. A major snowstorm had trapped everyone here. Even the staff hadn’t left for awhile because the roads were impassable. But it looked like that must have cleared up, because there were a lot fewer annoyed employees lounging around off the clock.
He stood, stretched and went to the men’s room to freshen up. He didn’t look so good. He had gone to a Christmas Eve wedding in Guyana and was on his way home. It had been freakish to go from tropical Guyana to blizzardy Virginia in a few hours.
It was five o’clock in the morning, so very few people were even awake. None of the stores were open. No flights were coming or going. There weren’t any announcements over the PA aside from the routine reminders about minding your bags.
“Oh, hey, hey, man, look, hey, wait up, hey, sorry, sorry, man-“
It took Avery a moment to realize someone was talking to him. The airport was like a mausoleum, so the man’s deep voice resonated and felt profoundly out-of-place. Avery must have looked annoyed when he turned around — he was just surprised and confused, but he must have looked annoyed, he thought, because the man was taken aback.
“Hey, sorry, man, are you in a hurry? I just wanted to ask you something.”
“Um. Not really, no. I mean, yes, in theory, I’m in a hurry to get home, but I’m snowed in so all I can do is pace or whatever. I can’t go anywhere anyway. So, uh…” Avery’s voice trailed off because his sleepy mind finally registered what sort of man he was look at.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a square jaw, wearing Army fatigues and heavy combat boots. He had a grizzled beard and tired, dark eyes. His muscles spilled from his camo. He carried himself heavily, like he hadn’t been muscular long and it still felt weird to him. Remnants of acne scarring on his cheeks gave him a mature look despite his youthful features, but it kept him from having a babyface.
“Do you know how to FaceCall? I don’t know what that is. My wife said I can do it on my laptop, I wanna FaceCall with her and my daughter. They’re in Okinawa so it’s evening there,” he said. “I don’t see it on my computer. Is it on email?”
“What, FaceCall? No, no, that’s not an email thing. Come on, I’ll show you,” Avery said.
Avery used FaceCall all the time, so it was easy for him to set up. In a few minutes he had the soldier — who introduced himself as Private Edmond Samberg — talking to his beautiful wife Omishi and their daughter Abigail, who was only three years old.
Avery had nothing else to do, so he just sat down once Samberg was talking to his family. This seating area was almost deserted. The whole airport was quiet and dark because it was in the middle of the night. Actually well past the middle, it was going on morning. Or maybe not. Avery had little sense of time anymore. He glanced at his phone which had the time on it but it didn’t compute in his travel-addled mind, and Avery didn’t care enough to devote any of his brain’s processing power to figuring it out.
He had a book to read, but he didn’t feel like reading it. He could get his phone out too, but he had been doing entirely too much of that. He was bored of relieving boredom with his phone. There would be nothing new online he wanted to see.
At first he tried to surreptitiously listen to Private Samberg and his family — Avery didn’t want to be nosy, there was just nothing else to do right now. It soon became apparent, however, that this conversation was going to consist mainly of babytalk. Private Samberg barely even spoke to his wife because he was so eager to connect with his daughter. He sang Christmas carols softly, aiming his voice directly into the microphone so it would be loud for his daughter but quiet enough to avoid waking anyone up in the airport.
Avery very nearly fell back asleep. He probably would have if it weren’t for Private Samberg’s strapping muscles bucking and flexing beneath his camo fatigues. He was entranced by the sight, and he blushed when Private Samberg almost caught him looking. Avery pretended to be humming along to “Jingle Bells”.
“Thanks a lot, man,” said Private Samberg after saying goodbye to his family and hanging up. “I would give you something for your time, but, man, I am broke. I’ve got eight cents in my bank account.”
“No worries, no problem. It’s nice to have something to do. It’s boring wasting my Christmas in a nasty old airport,” Avery said. He smiled and cleared his throat. “I know a way you can make five hundred dollars right here. Well, not right here. In the bathroom over there. The disabled bathroom is probably best.”
“What?”
“I’ll pay you five hundred dollars to jack off with me,” Avery said.
Private Samberg looked Avery up and down, nervously fingered his dog tags, then busted up laughing. He blushed. He looked like he was about to say no, but he just blushed more. He rearranged his cock in his camo pants. He covered his face. Then he shrugged. “Uh… Yeah. Okay. You for real?”
“Hell yeah I am,” Avery said. He saluted and stood up. “I’m here to follow orders, sir.”
He scoffed as he followed Avery into the disabled bathroom, which was large and clean. Avery locked the door. Private Samberg said, “You know I’m a private, right? I can’t order anyone around.”
“I know.”
“You really like jackin’ off with guys? I hate it, me and my unit do it all the time. It’s nasty.” He leaned against the wall and groaned. He closed his eyes. “But I do need somethin’ shit! I had a stiffy on the plane before, the one that brought me here, shit! The stewardess was like crazy hot. You shoulda seen her tits, man.” He blushed. “Sorry. I love my wife. I wasn’t gonna fuck her! The stewardess. Even if she wanted it-“
“I’m not the marriage police.”
“Even if she like threw herself at me, I wouldn’t…” Private Samberg’s eyes opened wide, and a moment later they opened wider. His dick twitched in his pants. “Shit! Ah, man!”
“Relax, relax, man, it’s okay to find chicks hot,” Avery said. “You didn’t fuck her, you’re fine. Don’t tell your wife about her though.”
“I won’t!”
“Are you alright? You look tired,” Avery said. He slid his hand into Edmond’s camo pants and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He gave it a few slow strokes, and Samberg leaned against the wall by the hand dryer.
Private Samberg nodded. “I am tired. Man, after I blow my wad, I’m gonna sleep for like twelve hours, I swear. My sergeant’s been yellin’ at me, cuz of this credit card debt… Man, it’s fucked.” He sighed, dropped his camo pants and let his dick fully flop out.
It throbbed hotly in Avery’s hand. It was nice and long, a definite two-hander but Avery only used one hand to make sure Samberg was gonna beg for more in a bit. His hand ran up and down the thickness of his shaft. “Your sergeant yells at you about credit card debt?”
“They’re worried about blackmail and shit, it’s conduct unbecoming,” he said. “And so they have a right to drill it… to, have a rule — it’s in the court, of, you know, the rights…” He blushed. “I don’t know the words. Sorry. My sergeant said it, but he was squeezin’ my balls so I don’t remember ’em.”
Avery smiled and gave his balls a very gentle squeeze. “Like that?”
“Harder.” His eyes bugged out. “He did it harder, I’m not askin’ you to do it harder.”
“Sure, sure,” Avery said. He got both hands on Samberg’s dick, which was beginning to firm up. It was veiny and moist with sweat, and it thrummed with heat and with youthful desire. A shudder ran up from his crotch through Samberg’s spine, and he laughed at himself.
“Shit, man, that feels good. I really needed to bust a nut. There was a guy outside boot camp who did that,” Samberg said. “It was weird.” He looked down. “I only did it once when I was real drunk. I don’t remember it. They said I did it, and I had fifty bucks in my pocket.”
“Fifty?”
“Yeah, He didn’t pay much.”
“Guess I got ripped off offering you five hundred,” Avery said.
“But I’m sober for this.”
“That’s worth four hundred fifty bucks?”
Samberg nodded and shrugged. “You’re the one who decided that.” He groaned, his dick fully erect now, and he moved his hips back and forth to drag the knob over Avery’s face. “Sorry.” He chuckled again.
“Is it okay if I taste it?” Avery asked. He thwacked that meaty erection over his face, chasing it with his tongue.
Private Samberg nodded and blushed a little. “You’re really into that? That’s so weird.” He wrinkled his nose. “Are you a believer that it makes your dick bigger to jack mine off”
Avery shrugged. “Something like that. I don’t know, maybe.” He was noncommittal, but in fact, he was not a believer in that. He just liked jacking off men, and he knew five hundred dollars was more than he needed to offer. He would have offered a hundred if he was being stingy. But he liked Private Samberg and wanted to help out a nice young family.
Avery kneeled between his legs and swallowed Samberg’s shaft down to the root, making Samberg let out a surprised moan like he hadn’t realized this was coming. Avery swallowed it as deep as he could, until his throat clenched and he gagged. Private Samberg took off his camo shirt, revealing a sweat-stained Army t-shirt underneath.
Precum flowed over his lips. It was salty and sweet, and it tasted so good Avery drooled as he gurgled. The moist sounds caused Private Samberg to chuckle, dryly at first, then almost hysterically. The laughter made his muscles gyrate beneath his tight t-shirt and made his cock jab down Avery’s throat.
“Ah shit, I have to use the money you’re paying me on the credit card debt. I won’t be able to buy anything for my daughter,” he said with a groan. “It sucks, my wife had to pay for Christmas for Abigail. I know she’s just a baby… Nevermind, sorry, I don’t wanna think about my daughter when I get a blowjob.”
Avery made a mental note to fix that. He didn’t want to make an awkward situation any more awkward — and his mouth was full — so he didn’t say anything, but he planned to call up and pay Private Samberg’s credit card debt. His wallet was sitting right there, having fallen out of his pocket when he dropped his pants. So Avery found out which bank issued his card and paid the debt later. Private Samberg presumably never found out how or why the bill was paid off.
It was the Christmas season, so Avery was glad to help. Private Samberg’s haggard face leaned back and his worry-wrinkles diminished as he moaned. His crew-cut had grown slightly unruly since he had last tended it, which was probably the last time he had shaved too. Samberg’s muscles rippled beneath his Army-issue t-shirt.
Avery pulled off Samberg’s cock and smacked it against his lips and his tongue hanging out of his open mouth. The sour-salty taste of his unwashed manhood flooded Avery’s senses.
“Hey, you do, uh…” Samberg blushed a deep red, his big hangdog square face looking away from Avery as he whispered, “Cornholin’?”
An excited giggle spread from Avery’s mouth. He nodded. “Sure do. But before we do that…” Avery licked his shaft from tip to root. “I’ll give you another hundred bucks if you let me lick every tattoo you’ve got. I bet you have some tattoos in interesting locations.”
Private Samberg blushed. “I got… Well… Okay…” He blushed an even deeper red. “Uh…” He took off his shirt and sighed. He had an outline of the state of Pennsylvania tattooed over his left pectoral muscle. Avery traced a trail with his tongue, traveling up Samberg’s crotch to his flat belly, his bulging pectoral and the sweat that collected there. He sucked on the tattoo as though trying to vacuum it off his body. Samberg grunted and stiffened his back.
He had barbed wire over his biceps too. The tattoo on his left bicep was complete, and Avery sucked it clean. Samberg even flexed his biceps — cheeks bright red — so Avery could get the full effect. The barbed wire on his right bicep was just the outline, not filled in, but his muscle was even firmer and his sweat even saltier.
“I couldn’t afford to get the tattoo finished,” Samberg said. He chuckled dryly. “The credit card got denied.” He sighed. “And I, uh… I got one more.” This was what made him blush. He undid his camo pants, turned around and bent over — he didn’t do that in a sexy or seductive way, but Avery thought it was even hotter like this, bending over as though letting a doctor take a look at his ass. His big hairy plump cheeks were right in front of Avery’s face.
And right there on the lower part of his left asscheek was a tattoo. It was a red bullseye and words written in elegant cursive. Sergeant Powers made a man out of me and I’ll never be the same.
“I got drunk in San Diego and my buddies made me get this.” He paused and laughed. “Okay, they ain’t really make me do it. But I did it. And so he can’t ever see my ass. He said he gotta approve tattoos before we get them, the Army doesn’t allow a lotta tattoos nowadays. There’s no way he would approve a tattoo telling him to kiss my ass.”
Samberg kept going, but Avery was confused. He kissed the perky firm ass-flesh under the tattoo as he listened to Private Samberg, who explained that his friends had dared him to tattoo the words ‘Sergeant Powers’s Kissing Spot’ on his ass. Those were, however, not the words tattooed there. In fact the message was ‘Sergeant Powers made a man out of me and I’ll never be the same’. It soon became apparent that Private Samberg didn’t know what was on his ass. It was on the lower part of his left cheek, which was round and full and plump — he’d have to get in a very careful position to see it in a mirror, and since it was written in flowing cursive, it wouldn’t be easy to read even then. Samberg must have never read it. His friends had told the tattooist what to do when he was too drunk to remember.
“Part of the dare,” Samberg said with a nervous chuckle, his dick still flopping over Avery’s face, precum sticking to his cheeks and lips. “was that I gotta show him the tattoo now that it’s healed. I keep puttin’ it off. He’s gonna kick my ass, man, I swear. He’s gonna dishonorable discharge me.”
It was a funny story, and it was one that Avery didn’t intend to spoil. He didn’t tell Samberg what his ass really said. He sucked all the furry hairs there — they were thick, dark and kinky because it was the upper part of his thigh. Then Avery plopped his face into Samberg’s asscheeks.
“Oh, shit, man… I ain’t got no tattoos in there, man, but if you wanna lick my ass…” He laughed nervously and gulped. He was bent over, grabbing his ankles, his face was already red from both blushing and blood running to his head. His eyes opened wide and he looked up to see Avery’s face disappear in his ass.
He looked like he was about to laugh, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Avery’s tongue tickled his prostate and Samberg let out a spine-tingling moan. It was loud enough that, if anyone had been awake near the bathroom, they would have heard. Avery probed Samberg’s ass with his tongue, while Samberg grunted as though it felt so good it hurt.
“Goddamn, man!” He bit his lip.
Avery giggled. Samberg’s as, tasted like his battered Army-issue green boxer shorts smelled: musty and salty and savory and so delicious Avery could have cum just from the smell. He pulled away and massaged Samberg’s hairy crack with one finger. It was wet and dripping.
Samberg barked when Avery’s finger touched his asshole. He jumped back up and turned around, his fat cock rock-hard and throbbing as it slapped Avery over the cheek.
“Ah, damn, I wasn’t expectin’ that to feel so good,” Samberg said. His voice was extra-deep as he puffed up his chest. His words resonated in the linoleum-tiled bathroom. He laughed a little. “But don’t put your finger in there, that’s… weird.”
Avery smiled. “Sure, no problem. I wasn’t going to stick it in. A lot of guys are into that anyway, y’know-“
“Not me.” He glowered. He watched Avery slather spit on his cockshaft. He hadn’t really watched before, because his eyes were closed, but he was a little less nervous now. Now, his eyes bugged out. “Damn, you really go deep. My wife don’t suck like that. No way. She got the world’s tiniest mouth. You should see her eat a hot dog. Takes an hour and a half.”
That made Avery laugh. “Maybe I’ll come watch that sometime.” Once he had slobbered saliva all over Private Samberg’s throbbing crack, he decided it was time to move on. Samberg looked down to watch as though it was the climax of a scary movie and he wanted to look away but couldn’t. “Now we get to the best part,” Avery said with a laugh at the expression on Samberg’s face.
Samberg groaned and moaned. Though he looked tense and nervous, he was also excited. It was obvious he was horny and he wanted this. He kept his hands away as he watched Avery bare his ass.
Avery turned around and backed his ass up. He spread his cheeks. Private Samberg looked away, groaning and moaning as his cock slid into Avery’s ass. At first Samberg didn’t touch him at all, like he couldn’t bear to feel a man’s ass for even a moment. His hands sort of fluttered behind himself, like he was balancing on a wire and almost falling off the other way. He watched Avery’s ass break open, while Avery let out a moan of desire as a surge of pleasure and pain hit him in equal portions.
“Aw, man, man, man,” Samberg’s voice broke, as he too felt a surge of pleasure. No pain though. He finally did touch Avery’s ass with one hand, then let go as though someone scolded him. “Aww, man… that feels good!” He again sounded very surprised at that, like he thought it would be painful. “It feels real good!”
“I know,” Avery said through clenched teeth, as he struggled to take Samberg’s girthy cock.
That didn’t last long though. The first time Samberg’s cock encountered a little resistance, he grunted and his muscles flexed all at once. One of his hands grabbed his own manhood, while his other hit Avery hard on the back, pushing his shoulders down. He pulled Avery’s cheeks up to match Samberg’s height a little better.
His dick was big and veiny, thick, long, throbbing, perfect like it was sculpted to fill Avery’s body. Avery let out a long low moan and leaned back until he felt Samberg’s cold dog tag resting against his back, and his broad chest muscles rippled against Avery’s smooth shoulders. Avery grabbed it and sucked on it too, just to get the stainless steel taste and the stale sweat that collected there onto his tongue.
“Damn, you make sounds…” Private Samberg said. In this position, Avery couldn’t see his face, but it was clear Samberg was blushing again. He cleared his throat. “My wife is so quiet during sex. The first time we did it, I thought she fell asleep or somethin’. She said I fuck real good-“
“Private Samberg, I’m going to give you an order,” Avery said breathily. He gasped. He had to focus intently to form any words at all. “Stop talking about your wife and stick it in me.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I just love her so much, sorry, sorry. Sorry. Shit…” His hot breath condensed on Avery’s nape.
Avery kept pushing his ass backwards, basically penetrating himself with Samberg’s cock. But the more they both got into this, the more comfortable Samberg became. Soon Samberg was pounding into Avery just as hard as Avery penetrated himself with Samberg’s cock.
And then, at last, Avery could do little more than submit. He leaned back so that he rested his face on Samberg’s ropy-muscled chest. He was ensconced in Samberg’s powerful arms, licking and suckling on his frizzy-haired muscle. He got another taste of both those barbed-wire tattoos, both the finished one and the unfinished one — in a flash of charitable thinking, Avery promised himself he’d send enough money to finish the other tattoo, then decided not to, he already didn’t know how much credit card debt he’d be paying off, and it wasn’t like the world was waiting for yet another barbed-wire-on-bicep tattoo. But it did taste so sexy when he sucked Samberg’s curly arm-hairs and licked the bulging tattooed muscle there. His wife was a very lucky woman.
“Oh god, cum inside me, please, soldier, fill me up…”
His cringing, begging tone made Samberg laugh just as he reached an orgasm. His whole body bucked and spasmed, and his chest muscles tensed against Avery’s back. For one glorious moment that seemed to last an eternity, Avery experienced a jaw-dropping orgasm that began in his prostate and exploded outward in every direction.
A fat load of cum flew into Avery’s ass. Private Samberg moaned, his hot breath condensing on the back of Avery’s head. Avery had never felt smaller or weaker, buried in Samberg’s muscles all around him. The cum filling up his ass was hot and thick, and it seeped into Avery’s flesh.
“Oh fuck, yeah…” Avery stroked himself off and shot his own load onto the floor of the bathroom. He still had Samberg’s dog tags over his face, so he got another burst of old-sweat flavor as he sucked it clean.
He moaned again, and rubbed his back against Private Samberg’s strapping chest. Private Samberg grunted into his ear. The smell of his sweat-soaked shirt enveloped Avery as he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Spasms of bliss wracked his body.
Finally Private Samberg stepped back and gingerly pulled his cock out. He looked down at it like he was terrified of what he saw as he wiped it clean with a bit of toilet paper. He grimaced, then smiled and grunted.
“You had better pay me, man,” he said. “And that extra hundred dollars. Don’t stiff me, man.”
“I won’t, I have to too much respect for your service to our country,” Avery said with a sigh as he cleaned himself off. When he was done, he pulled out his wallet and counted out the money. Avery saluted and grinned, before handing over six hundred dollars.
“Uh, sure, yeah, no problem, man,” Private Samberg said with a blush. He took the money and saluted back. “Thanks too, for your help. I had a good Christmas after all.”

The Bodybuilding Coach

Donovan tutors football jocks, but he didn’t know their hunky coach Bagworth was willing to give him a taste too! Can Donovan satisfy his new favorite college football coach?

Read the whole thing as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“I’m tellin’ you, man, it just don’t make no sense to me. My brain don’t work like this,” said Gravyboat — David Mitchell, but everyone called him ‘Gravyboat’ — running his fingers through his hair. He was a heavyset linebacker, just a junior in college but already balding, thick as a barrel of meat, with a big face, all the parts of which were too big for each other . He scowled and sighed.
“You’re doing a lot better. Remember when we started you couldn’t do any of these problems. Now you did half without any help from me, and you got most of the rest with just a little assistance,” Donovan said. He was a sophomore now and a tutor for jocks like Gravyboat, which had seemed more exciting in the abstract though. In reality, he’d spent most of his tutoring time sitting in quiet libraries and study rooms. “You’ve come a long way. You’ve improved so much-“
“I hate word problems!”
“You said before you didn’t like math because it’s not useful, but word problems show you how you can use it.”
“I don’t need to know which train will arrive when! That ain’t somethin’ I gotta do! I can look at the schedule, man,” He shook his head. “I can’t learn this shit.”
“You already are, Gravyboat,” Donovan said. He sighed. He was frustrated, but he managed to hide it from Gravyboat, who was easily discouraged about his intellect. Donovan patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s call it for today. You really are doing good, Gravyboat. Just come back on Wednesday.”
“Coach Bagworth said I don’t gotta do it on Wednesday because I have practice.”
“You have practice every day,” Donovan said as he leaned back in his desk chair. The study room was small and cramped, and it had nothing in it but a whiteboard, a trash can and four small desks. It was attached to the gym, so Donovan could hear the basketball team practicing in the gymnasium next door.
“Yeah, but on Wednesday he said-“
“I ain’t say nothin’ of the sort!” Coach Bagworth appeared in the doorway. “Don’t you spread no lies, Gravyboat!” He wagged his finger and scowled at Gravyboat, who blushed and looked down at his feet. Donovan felt tiny sharing a room with these two — Gravyboat was a college linebacker who was hefty even for college linebackers, while Coach Bagworth was a former quarterback, tight end and bodybuilder. They were gigantic, and Donovan was dwarfed by them.
But it was Coach Bagworth who really attracted his eye. He was a big burly man who was so macho it hurt, and he had a handsome face, with his bodybuilderish body looking too big to fit his mug. Coach Bagworth didn’t have a perfect body, but Donovan preferred men with that sort of physique over the Hollywood-handsome six-packed types. Bagworth had a little heft, a little thickness, and a whole lot of swagger. He grabbed Gravyboat by the back of the neck.
“Coach, get off me!” Gravyboat twisted away from his coach.
“What’d you say? You tryin’-a get outta tutoring? Huh? If you fail ya damn math class, you gonna get cut from the damn team, you damn fool, and don’t think I’ll do a damn thing to save ya damn fat ass!” Bagworth barked at him. “You wastin’ time, Gravyboat!”
“Coach, come on!” Gravyboat pushed away from him. Bagworth shoved him against the wall.
Donovan backed up to the window to stay away from them. Was a real fight about to break out? It seemed like it. Both men were giants — Gravyboat was six-foot, eleven-inches tall, while Coach Bagworth was a bit shorter but better muscled. You could tell that Bagworth’s padding concealed a barrel-shaped vat of muscle, while Gravyboat was just heavy all around.
There was something alluring about Coach Bagworth. Donovan enjoyed the sight of his body bulging from the ill-fitting tee shirt and pants, which were somehow both too big and too small for him.
The argument ended without turning into a fight. Gravyboat sulked out of the room after agreeing to return for more tutoring on Wednesday. Donovan blushed and nodded his understanding, his eyes drawn to Gravyboat’s meaty ass shaking when he walked.
Coach Bagworth had a little salt in his pepper hair, which Donovan wanted to run his fingers through. His body was big and burly, thick all over, the kind of body Donovan could and gladly would worship for hours. But there had to be a rule against that. GHU had a rule against anything worth doing, Donovan thought.
When Gravyboat was gone, Coach Bagworth looked at Donovan, his deep eyes taking him in as though he never noticed him before. He smiled crooked, awkwardly. “Thanks a bunch for all ya help… Donovan.”
“Oh, you’re welcome…” Donovan blushed coyly, batting his eyes in Coach Bagworth’s direction. He wondered if he could get anywhere with him.
GHU might have rules against anything fun, but nobody followed them. Bagworth did not seem like a stickler for the rules.
“I lost four players last year to academic ineligibility,” Coach Bagworth said, his eyes narrowing into furrows, which accentuated the cragginess of his face. “I wanna give you somethin’ as a thank you, since we just about to start the playoffs and we only gots a good chance on account of you bein’ so helpful. Davie Raython passed his pre-cal test.”
“That’s awesome, I’m glad to hear it,” Donovan said. He was surprised. Raython Lake was an idiot. He must have cheated, Donovan thought but didn’t say.
“So, uh… I was thinkin’, as, uh… like a thanks, I could give you tickets to tonight’s game. Front row, fifty-yard line. You’ll be right in the action,” Coach Bagworth said. He grunted like he was unused to speaking nicely to people.
That was true. Not only did Coach Bagworth speak mostly to his athletes — whom he was never polite to — he was usually only nice to women and children, and Donovan was neither. Coach Bagworth had been a bully when he was young, felt bad about it now and always overcorrected by being nice. Besides that, he had an instinct to protect women and weak men.
“That’s very sweet,” Donovan said. “But honestly, I’m not sure I’d enjoy that. I’m not really a sports fan.”
“Oh. I thought you volunteered for this cuz you was into it.”
“Nope. I had my own motives,” Donovan said. “I enjoy sports players more than I enjoy sports.” He licked his lips and came closer to Coach Bagworth. “I was kinda hoping that maybe you could thank me… in person.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat and said, more solemnly, “Thank you.”
“No, uh… not like that,” Donovan said. He walked slowly, seductively around Coach Bagworth’s towering body. He touched the small of his back, and Coach Bagworth quaked. Donovan reached up to his shoulders. He gave a massage the best he could with Coach Bagworth standing there, unmoving, unbending, and much too tall for Donovan to easily reach.
Coach Bagworth grunted. His body tensed up. His muscles were rock-hard, and they stayed that way.
“I would like it if you just sat down right there and let me service you.” Donovan kissed the small of his back through his sweaty tee shirt. The funkiness of his body odor assaulted Donovan’s senses, and a shiver of desire ran up his spine.
“Service…?” Bagworth asked as though he didn’t know what Donovan was suggesting. The way his cock was twitching in his pants made it clear he did understand and that he was eager for it to happen.
But he didn’t say so.
“I’ll lick you all over, I’ll swallow your dick all the way down,” Donovan said. “To the root.”He lifted up that grimy tee shirt and kissed the meaty flesh of Coach Bagworth’s back. He had a strong, well-muscled back, albeit slightly padded. His muscles flexed beneath Donovan’s touch, and his pecs rippled.
“Uh… Oh…” Coach Bagworth plopped onto the desk. It was an ordinary student’s desk, small for a college and especially small for Coach Bagworth. His ass barely fit, and he had to sit sideways, legs spilling out into the little walkway between his desk and the one next to it. He leaned against the side-arm of the desk.
Though he tried to look relaxed, he was all tense. Coach Bagworth closed his eyes.
When he was a young man, he worked on a farm in the summers. Some of the farmhands there cornholed each other — or to be more precise, they made lots of jokes about cornholing each other — but never went through with it — while only ever actually cornholing one of the farm’s workers, Carlos. Carlos didn’t work the fields, he was an accountant, and he was flamboyant and he wore women’s clothes and he had beautiful long hair and he spoke like a woman.
Coach Bagworth wished he had gone through with it then. Carlos had wanted him bad, but Bagworth always said no. It seemed like such a big deal at the time.
Now he regretted it. He had been so horny and frustrated back then — at the time, women rarely put out, and Coach Bagworth had remained a virgin until he was nineteen. He could have felt better anytime, if only he had gotten off with Carlos. He could have spared himself a lot of frustration.
So a part of him really wanted to do it with Donovan now. But he didn’t want to say it.
Back in the day, Coach Bagworth had had a six-pack to die for. When he got out of the Army, he had a six-pack without even trying, and that was before there was even a word for it. While some women were open to his advances, Coach Bagworth had long ago resigned himself to be unappealing to most women — not ugly by any means, but too old to be young and virile, not clean-cut enough to be a handsome older gentleman, he was too thick and heavy for most women, but not tautly-muscled enough for those who liked muscles, his charisma seemed to diminish every day of his life, and he hadn’t sweet-talked a woman in years. He seemed to have forgotten how in his haste to focus on commanding the players under his aegis.
“You, uh… what’re you doin’? You ain’t gotta rub my shoulders.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to,” Donovan said. He kissed the back of Coach Bagworth’s neck, where his flesh had curled up into little rows. Donovan loved muscular men whose necks did that. “You’re really handsome.”
“You just sayin’ that.”
“No, I’m not! I swear!”
“Shit… I sure wish females would see it that way.”
“I bet I can make you forget about women,” Donovan said. “Arms up, let’s go.” He lifted Coach Bagworth’s tee shirt and spoke with such firmness that Bagworth did it right away. His broad chest rippled in the chilled air of the tutoring room.
His nipples turned hard too, even before Donovan had reached out to tweak them. When he did, he smiled, and his cock throbbed in his pants. Donovan kept his crotch far enough away that Bagworth wouldn’t feel his erection but close enough that Donovan could feel the body heat emanating from Coach Bagworth’s firm torso. A grunt came out of his mouth. Coach Bagworth obviously liked nippleplay, and it made his whole body twitch. Donovan let his tongue trace a line up and down Coach Bagworth’s back.
Next door, the basketball team erupted in shouts and whistle-blows. There had been a fight, or an argument over a foul, something like that was going on. Donovan’s heart raced because he was fearful of being caught — if basketball practice ended up early, those guys would fill the halls and possibly see in here. He’d be fired from his tutoring gig for sure, and Coach Bagworth likely would be as well.
“I think you have a perfect body…” Donovan moved to the front of Coach Bagworth’s desk, and he sucked some of the stale sweat that clung to his chest. It was salty and warm, and it made Donovan’s dick tent his pants. He had to fight the urge to jack off right now.
“You don’t gotta say that.”
“What, it’s true!” Donovan said with a blush. “You probably think you need a six-pack, right? I confess that has its allure too… But for me, I like my men a little meaty and finely aged.” He kissed the furry part of Coach Bagworth’s bare belly.
Bagworth furrowed his brow. He still didn’t entirely believe this. He had hoped to say thanks for helping, but now he was about to get his nut off — that didn’t seem like a thank you. It seemed like something else he would have to be thankful for. Bagworth wasn’t used to anyone appreciating his body for more than its utility.
So he squirmed a little uncomfortably as Donovan pulled his pants down. Coach Bagworth had a fine, girthy cock that was veiny and warm. It twitched as soon as Donovan touched it — from anxiety, not arousal, yet. It was just slightly firm, soaked in sweat. His whole crotch was moistly humid, and the fragrant smell of his groin filled the air when Bagworth’s pants were down.
“Are you okay…?” Donovan asked because Coach Bagworth looked scared.
That was just because he was shocked at what he was allowing to happen. He’d never done anything like this. Back as a young farmhand, refusing to mess with that man had been what made him different from the others. They all messed around, he waited for the woman who would later become his now ex-wife. He was a god-fearing Christian man then and still technically was even if he had stopped living by that code in a lot of ways.
So now he couldn’t stop thinking about that, about the orgasms he had abstained from as a youth. He was letting Donovan go to town all over him, and he liked it. All those other farmbucks who had teased him back then would think it was hilarious that he did it now.
His dick popped into Donovan’s mouth. It was just the tip at first, as Donovan gauged how anxious he was about it. Coach Bagworth shifted his weight and grumbled, but he didn’t say anything. He just covered his face with one meaty forearm and leaned back in his desk-chair.
“Hmmmmm…” Donovan moaned around the cock in his throat. He could tell that sound was exciting Coach Bagworth because it made his whole body twitch and his pecs bounce, so he kept making it. He made as much noise as he could, spitting up on that shaft and then swallowing the mess he had made. The taste of his cock was musty and salty, and it made Donovan crave more.
“Ah, goddamn…” Coach Bagworth shifted around in his seat. It was uncomfortably small for his giant ass, and he struggled to remain still as his dick rocketed to erection. He was still nervous, but now those feelings were subsumed by an intense desire to get his rocks off. “Shit… It’s been a long time since I got off like this…”
Donovan knew that. Most men said something similar when Donovan got on their dicks. That’s because he was better at throating than any woman. Donovan’s throat was nice and long, and he was eager to use every inch of it. He knew exactly how to bring a man to orgasm right away — not that that was what he normally did.
He liked to draw this out as long as he could. He liked to tease his men, make them work for it.
Once Bagworth was hard and throbbing and leaking salty precum onto Donovan’s tongue, Donovan slowed down. He kept going, but he teased Bagworth with his tongue. He licked the shaft and slurped the sweat off his balls. He slathered Bagworth’s manhood in spit and went as low as he could, until he had Bagworth’s balls on his face so he could lick under there, teasing his sensitive taint.
That made Coach Bagworth shake and moan, his deep voice ringing out loud and making Donovan’s whole body crave him. Donovan was deep under his balls, slurping down all the sweat there. He loved this position because it meant Bagworth’s cock was right in front of his face and Donovan could worship it, while Bagworth’s balls throbbed in his nose and precum flowed onto Donovan’s fingers, Bagworth’s thighs quaking as he struggled to hold them aloft.
Then Donovan pulled away and dropped his pants, baring his pale ass, which Coach Bagworth kneaded with one of his thick-callused hands. His touch was rough enough to hurt but soft enough to feel good, and Donovan moaned out loud. Coach Bagworth moaned again, and his heavy legs stomped onto the floor. His dick jutted up angrily, precum flowing down the shaft. Donovan hurried to sit on his lap.
“Oh god, you’re not gonna hurt me too bad, are you?” Donovan asked winsomely, trying to make his voice sound as feminine as possible.
“Nah, I’d never hurt you, baby…” Bagworth blushed — he hadn’t mean that to say it in such a warm, caring way, like he was telling a girlfriend he’d never hurt her. He couldn’t believe he had called a man baby.
But he had only said it out of habit. As a big, macho man, Coach Bagworth had long ago learned he needed to be extra soft and nice to women if they were going to stick with him. So he made kind cooing noises and whispered sweet nothings as Donovan sat on his dick and aimed it into his ass.
It was just the tip at first. Donovan bit his lip. Coach Bagworth had a thick body and a thick dick to go with it. It wasn’t even all that long — though it was plenty long — it was just thicker than Donovan had seen in a long time, and its girth was more impressive than its length. He faced the front of the tutoring room and reached behind himself to guide Coach Bagworth’s cock. Donovan slid himself back.
“Damn.” He tensed up and struggled as a jolt of pain hit him.
“You okay, sweetie-?” Coach Bagworth cut himself off. Then he spoke more gruffly. “You alright, man?”
“I’m fine, just gimme a second…” Donovan groaned through gritted teeth. He loosened his ass and slid a little deeper.
Ah… There it was… A surge of pleasure ran up Donovan’s spine, and he shivered. The pain diminished into a dull, distant roar that he easily ignored. He slid down deeper, until he could feel Coach Bagworth’s unkempt pubic bush rubbing against his ass.
When Bagworth’s manhood hit Donovan’s prostate, he moaned and squirmed. For a moment, it looked like he was in pain. Coach Bagworth rushed into action, seeking to pull him off.
“No, wait, it’s-…” Donovan moaned so loud it made him blush. Coach Bagworth had stood up, and he held Donovan in place. Now that he didn’t know what to do and couldn’t tell if Donovan was in pain or not, Coach Bagworth just held him up.
Donovan was entirely off the floor, leaning against Coach Bagworth’s towering chest, rubbing his face against his muscles, while both of Bagworth’s hands held him aloft. He squirmed in his touch.
Coach Bagworth was so focused on his own uncertainty about what was happening that he didn’t even realize how good this felt for him. No woman had ever let him fuck her in the ass all the way down deep.
He pounded in and out with Donovan in his arms. He’d seen this position in porno, but didn’t think anyone would ever do it. He could control Donovan’s ascent and descent on his dick utterly, his angle, his timing, his depth of penetration. It felt better than it ever had with a woman, even — in a purely physical sense — his bitch of an ex-wife.
As his orgasm hit him, Coach Bagworth tried not to moan too loud. He was so big that he had a deep voice, which carried. He didn’t want to be heard by the basketball team next door.
“Shit… Aw, yeah…”
But it was hard to be quiet with the most potent orgasm he’d experienced in years coursing through his veins. Coach Bagworth grunted right into Donovan’s ear, and his hands dug into Donovan’s soft, smooth flesh.
Donovan shot his own load at the same time. He was cradled in Coach Bagworth’s arms, so he could use both hands to stroke himself off, spraying his wad onto the floor. He shot a big, creamy load that plopped into a puddle there on the floor of the tutoring room.
“Goddamn!” Coach Bagworth hadn’t expected it to feel this good. Worried he would drop Donovan, Coach Bagworth brought him to the ground and bent him over as he was cumming. He mounted Donovan from behind, his dick still all the way in there, throbbing and spewing his creamy load.
It seeped into Donovan’s flesh, gob after gob of hot juices flowing into him. Donovan felt it trickling into his body. The sensations wracked his body were so intense he couldn’t even cry out or moan anymore. All he could do was lay there stiffly, feeling Coach Bagworth’s hefty body writhe above him, his hot breath condensing on Donovan’s cheek.
At last, he was done. “Sorry, I crushed ya there,” Coach Bagworth said as he pulled out. His goopy dick rested between Donovan’s tender asscheeks. Bagworth kissed him on the back of the next, making Donovan sigh as endorphins ran through his bloodstream.
“Hmmmmm…. You don’t have to apologize, you’re beautiful,” Donovan said.
Coach Bagworth blushed. No one had ever called him beautiful before, not even when he was young and had a six-pack. He pulled away from Donovan. He took a deep breath and was about to say something else when a loud shout could be heard from the gymnasium next door. That was followed by a whistle blow.
Then there was a series of shouts, grunts and banging sounds. The whistle blew over and over, then got cut off in mid-blow. “Hey! Hey! Hey!”
“They’s fightin’ again,” Bagworth said. He shook his head. He couldn’t go over there naked, of course, so he raced to put his clothes on. When he heard more shouting, now sounding like people were concerned that someone was hurt, he ran for the door with nothing but his boxers on. His dick flopped, not even totally soft, in his drawers, which were soon moist with all the juices that clung to his crotch.
Donovan quickly put his own clothes on before sneaking to the double-doors leading into the gymnasium. A fight had definitely broken out among the basketball players. It had ended, however, because of Coach Bagworth, not because he had yelled for them to stop — though that was certainly part of it — but because they were shocked to see him nearly naked, and with a moist pair of boxers being the only clothes he wore. It looked like he had pissed himself, and that was what the players later told everyone had happened.
“You little halfwits had better shape up! Quit snickerin’, ain’t you evuh see a real man before?! If ya team was playin’ ya heart out, I could forgive a little grab-ass in the gym, but you motherfuckers ain’t been playin’ worth a half a damn! You got some kinda explanation, huh? Punks! Why do you got that stupid sneer on your dumb faces?! You been carryin’ on like hooligans again? Huh?!”
The gym was silent, and Donovan giggled as quietly as he could. Bagworth’s muscles tensed, all ruddy and sweaty — the players assumed that was because he was furious, but Donovan knew it was post-orgasmic excitement. He wished he could go in there and lick Coach Bagworth’s whole body as he scolded his players.
But he wouldn’t do that, even if he could get away with it. Donovan had another tutoring gig to go to.

Three Generations of Honkies

Avery goes with a friend to an awkward family event, only to find himself enchanted by her father, brother and oldest nephew! They’re a trio of hunky studs who just might let Avery swing on their alpha honky meat… as long as the other two don’t know about it!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery lay awoke most of the night. He was dreading tomorrow — it was Thanksgiving, and he planned on spending it with his friend Lenore. That would have been fine on its own. But her family would be there too, and that promised to be awkward. The prospect of meeting who-even-knows how many new people made the whole thing seem like an obligation. It seemed like no big deal when she asked last month if he wanted to come. Her family might be fun, he thought.
And now he had to spend all day with them.
Lenore had not had a relationship with her family until earlier this year, due to an acrimonious divorce that led to her brother siding with her father and Lenore siding with her mother. That was why she had practically begged Avery to come along: Lenore didn’t want to be alone. So he tried not to sulk as he trundled off to her car early in the morning on Thanksgiving. He was sleepy, and he already he was failing to come up with any smalltalk.
He remained quiet the entire way to Citrus Heights, California. Lenore was quiet too, either nervous or just listening to the jazz on the radio. He was half-asleep anyway. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, however, Avery was already starting to brighten up.
Lenore’s mother had passed away a few years ago, and her father, Woody, had reverted to his bachelor ways after his divorce. He was an ex-Army officer with a tattoo of his unit on his belly — a fact that Avery saw when Lenore opened the door and Woody stood there in his boxers, hand at his crotch, scratching his balls. His arms flexed and his pecs rippled as though scratching his nutsack through his raggedy-ass boxer shorts took all of his muscles.
That was how the Thanksgiving began: Lenore screeching, and Woody blearily-eyed glaring at his daughter as his dick flopped out through the fly of his boxers. It was meaty and thick, and it flopped like an uncooked sausage. Woody was a barrel-chested man, his fuzzy fur tinged with gray, his head bald but shaved as well — shaved haphazardly, obviously without the use of a mirror, with slightly longer patches here and there around the sides of his scalp. A mustard stain on his boxers accentuated the bulge of his cock after he casually tucked it away again.
“Dad! Ohmigod, you are humiliating me! Ohmigod! Is this what you do? You hang out in your underpants?! Was Mom the only reason you ever put on pants?”
“Mornin’, sweetcake.”
“Go put some clothes on, Dad!”
He just rolled his eyes and hugged her, much to her chagrin. He shook Avery’s hand. Woody had thick fingers and a muscular grip. He squeezed Avery confidently. He winked too.
Avery blushed, and he looked Woody’s chest up and down. He was furry and broad and strapping, and he smelled a little of sweat, like he had been working out recently, or had simply not showered. Or both. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male aroma.
“Dad, I can tell you cleaned up, but you should have done the baseboards-“
“Sweetcake,” Woody grunted. “It looks fine-“
“I know, but I’ll just get a sponge-“
Again, Woody rolled his eyes. His ass swayed in his boxers as he followed after his daughter, arguing. Avery stayed there at the door to watching his shoulder muscles flex. Again, Avery got the impression he shook his ass for Avery’s benefit. His cheeks were full to bursting out of those paper-thin boxer shorts. The mustard stain looked to have harmed the already cheap fabric, that may be why his cock slipped out.
Where do alphas even find that kind of boxer shorts? So thin you can almost see through them like wet tissue paper. Avery’s dick twitched. He wondered if Lenore had told him she was bringing a friend. He hadn’t seemed surprised to see a stranger.
The rest of the family would be coming soon, and the house was not ready. Avery chuckled under his breath at the sound of Lenore squealing at the realization that her father had still not put on any pants.
“Of course you have to baste it, Dad! Nigella Lawson said it!” She came back into the living room. Avery busied himself by putting the cords, remote controls and DVDs out by the TV all into a stack. That was productive and helpful, he thought; he only wished Lenore had seen him do it. She stormed past with a sponge and an all-purpose cleaner. “Dad! Go put pants on! You have to wear pants to Thanksgiving!”
“You’re as bad as your mother,” he said with a grin. His eyes glanced to Avery, then up the stairs. He scratched his chest casually, but his hand lingered over his nipple, and his pecs bounced.
“Did you need some help picking out an outfit, Mister Myrtle?” Avery asked. He was now certain Woody was hot to trot.
She was awfully insistent I come up here. I bet she knew her dad wanted a piece of male tail on the side. Oh she’s a sly hag… Avery stared daggers at her as he followed Woody up the stairs. He didn’t mind her bringing him as a sort of a toy to keep her father satisfied, but Avery wished she had told him. What if Woody had been fat? That would have been awkward.
“Call me Woody, hoss. Yeah, uh, what color ain’t ya supposed to wear after Labor Day?” Woody asked as they ascended the stairs.
“That’s white, darling,” Avery said. “Nobody wears white to Thanksgiving.” They were up the stairs now. He pulled down Woody’s white boxers to reveal a chunky hairy ass, all muscle and meat and fur. Woody chuckled and stepped out of his boxers without missing a beat. Avery kissed one of his cheeks there in the hall at the top of the stairs. Myrtle fussed over some dumb girlish shit downstairs.
“Damn, boy, did she bring you just to keep me from getting too ornery?”
“A hostess should provide someone to service macho military guys at family gatherings. That’s in Emily Post. Your daughter is a thoughtful girl,” Avery said. “You get jacked off by guys a lot?”
He grunted. “You a take-a-shower-before kinda fruitcake or a take-a-shower-after fruitcake?”
“After.” Avery blushed and laughed. Obviously, he thought, that was a yes: guys who weren’t jacked off by other dudes often would never have known there were those who preferred both showered and unshowered men.
“Gotcha.” He went into the bedroom and flopped onto his bed, which was covered in dirty socks and tee shirts with sweat stains. The bed was unmade, but Avery thought no one actually slept here — Woody probably slept on the couch downstairs most nights. He looked like the drift-off-to-sleep-drunk-on-the-couch kind of divorced man. He flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “Man, in boot camp there was this fellah right off base who’d jack off any soldier who needed it. They just be lining up outside his condo, twirlin’ they dicks in they hands.”
“I bet.”
“But I ain’t mess around with him. The female tail was plentiful back then. It wasn’t till I got assigned to this base in central Alaska, then there wasn’t no females around except this one swishy Indian fella with lips like silk — what are you waiting for?” He snorted and chuckled. “My daughter is gonna come in anytime, demanding I alphabetize my potatoes or something, calling my spice rack racist. So let’s get this done, we might not have much time.” He slapped Avery in the cheek with his dick as Avery leaned over the bed to put it in his mouth. He groaned and scooted closer to the edge.
The doorbell rang. Avery heard more family coming in, and Lenore talking a mile a minute, seemingly apologizing for the state of the house. He slathered Woody’s dick with spit, as it firmed up in his mouth.
“You wanna hit it deep, baby?” Avery asked when it was hard. He rubbed Woody’s cock against his cheeks and chased it with his tongue, teasing Woody by blowing on the wetness on his shaft and making Woody’s whole body shake.
“Ah, man… if a woman asked me that, swear to God, I’d propose to her on the spot,” Woody said with a sigh. He closed his eyes, gripped Avery by the ear and slammed his dick all the way down. “Ah, shit…” Woody moaned.
Normally Avery would try to slow down something like this. Alphas tried to be slow and gentle with women because women demanded it, and men (sometimes) wanted a long-term relationship with them. But that didn’t apply to Avery. So it was up to him to slow his men down or else they’d just dagger his throat like jackrabbits and be done in mere moments.
Today, however, Avery didn’t want to slow down. He sometimes enjoyed letting men really have free reign over his throat, letting them plow into him deeply and letting their balls slap against his chin. He adjusted and loosened his neck to allow every inch of Woody’s cock in there.
“Goddamn, man, hell yeah…” Woody’s throaty voice rang out in Avery’s ear. He held on tight to Avery’s head, but he didn’t sodomize his throat in an aggressive or mean way like some guys. He ground his cock deeply, shaking it, moving his hips and ass in little circles like he needed to make love to every inch of Avery’s spasming throat.
When loud gurgling and sputtering sounds came from Avery’s mouth, Woody warmly shushed him. “Sssssh, it’s okay, boy, I’m cummin’ now, just keep it open for a minute more. You gonna get a good taste in just a sec…” His voice degenerated into a baritone rumble as an orgasm rippled over his hairy chest. He held his breath, keeping Avery’s head impaled on his cock, which spasmed and pulsated in Avery’s neck. Avery’s tongue throbbed against the veiny underside of his dick, where Avery could feel the juices flowing from his balls.
Cum flowed down Avery’s throat. It was creamy and warm and delicious, and he guzzled every drop. He maintained eye contact with Woody the whole time too. Most straight guys closed their eyes when they came in a man’s mouth, so Avery enjoyed Woody’s shocked expression as he orgasmed.
“Shit, boy, goddamn! If I had you back in boot camp, I’d have never bothered hooking up wit’ females,” Woody said with a laugh, shaking his ass beneath Avery’s grasp to make the last few drops of cum slide down Avery’s gullet.
Then, when it was over, Avery sat back and grinned, wiping his face off. Woody’s jaw hung open and he licked his lips. He chuckled, a throaty laugh like a moist mummy, and he wiped his hand through his chest hair. Avery smacked his lips and played with the sensitive, limpening shaft of Woody’s cock.
“Hmmm… Thanks,” Avery said.
“I should be thankin’ you.” He had a low throaty chuckle. “Thank you.” He wiped his dick off with some paper towels. “My son and grandsons are downstairs. And daughter-in-law.” He sighed like he wished his daughter-in-law wasn’t here. “Make sure you don’t let on what we done up here. The younger generations don’t get it.”
Avery mimed zipping his lips shut, then Woody took a quick shower while Avery chose an outfit for him. His cleanest pants were camo, but Avery found a tolerable pair of khakis. They were dirt-colored anyway, so the dirt stains didn’t show. Avery heard the family greeting each other downstairs. A child was in the mix. That was good, he thought, an excellent distraction.
Sure enough, the child — Jason — Woody’s youngest grandson — occupied everyone’s attention. Avery went downstairs met Lenore’s brother Mack, his wife Vanessa and their adult sons Rowan and Shaw, along with, of course, the young one, Mack’s and Vanessa’s five year old Jason. They all watched Jason play with trucks and lose counting games on his mother’s iPad.
Soon, however, conversation became stilted. Everyone watched Jason play like he was a panda at the zoo. Avery tried to make a few jokes, but no one seemed interested in laughing. The dull as drainage Thanksgiving was only ended with a fight breaking out among the brothers.
“You shouldn’t let Jason use the iPad so much,” said Rowan, instantly starting off an argument between him and his brother Shaw. They were both late teens, Rowan just eighteen but Shaw nearly twenty. They both hovered over their nephew, who ignored them, deeply hypnotized by the iPad in his grubby little mitts.
“Just let him play, you loser-“
“It’s bad for him.”
“You’re such a pretentious twat-” Shaw smacked Rowan, who smacked him back.
As Woody came down the stairs in a button-down shirt and dirt-colored khakis, he said, “Hey, you boys knock it off-!”
“Get outta my way!”
“He’s been beggin’ for this for years, I’m gonna kick the moron right out of his brain!”
Avery wanted nothing to do with what was soon to be a fistfight. He did like the men. Woody, his son Mack and Mack’s adult sons Shaw and Rowan. He appreciated the male form, and all four of the Myrtle men had admirable physiques in their own ways. Shaw was handsome and sort of squarish, broad and ox-like, yet clean-cut and dimpled like a new golf ball. Rowan was cute in a skinny basement-dwelling nerd way, not unattractive, as he was a soccer player in good shape, you could just tell he spent most of his non-soccer time playing Minecraft or something dumb like that.
“You piece of shit! Car thief!”
“Oh, now you’re bringing up the Toyota again?! Just get over it, Rowan!”
Shaw was tall and wide-shouldered, with deep dimples and charming green eyes. He was outgoing, with the smarmy charisma of a third-rate politician. After the fight with his brother, he went into the kitchen, where Lenore ignored the fighting and focused on basting the turkey in the oven. When she stood up to explain why her father’s favorite spice blend’s brand and mascot were racist, Shaw belched.
“Oh my god, that was so disgusting, get out of here!” She scowled at her nephew, and he instantly returned to the living room, where Rowan was still fuming about the car Shaw had “stolen”. As Avery settled in with a glass of cider (sadly, it was soft cider), Rowan and Shaw resumed their earlier fight, which was itself a resumption of a previous fight. Little Jason watched and aimlessly banged his trucks together.
“Fight back, pussy!” Shaw and Rowan bumped chests.
“Lay off!” Rowan pushed him to the ground.
“C’mon, fight me! You know you can’t!”
They both wrestled, knocking over the coat-rack by the door and a lamp. Avery backed up out of the way, putting him close to Mack, who picked up Jason and put him on the stairs so he wouldn’t be trampled. Avery felt Mack’s body heat. Mack ignored him, dourly watching his sons fight. He had ceased trying to stop it.
Avery caught Mack’s eye and beckoned as though he needed help with something private. He sort of swept Mack up to nudge him to come along. Mack went with him, and the roar of the battle in the living room went quiet when they went into the garage and shut the door.
“Thanks so for much for your help,” Avery said. He had manipulated Mack with body language and confidence, so Mack realized as he walked into the garage that he didn’t know why he was here.
“What did you need help with?”
“Oh… nothing too difficult,” Avery said. He grinned. “I have a feeling you’d like to get a nut off. Is that right?”
“Shit, hoss, always!” Mack said with a cackle and a whoop.
“So how about I bend over and you plow my ass hard?”
Get off me, Shaw! I’ll kick your ass!
“Oh, damn… Oh…” Mack’s cocky demeanor vanished. He was momentarily nervous. Then he took a deep breath. “Hot damn. Uh, okay…” He paused. “You can’t tell my dad. He’d kick my ass.”
Avery rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
Mack took a deep breath. “Man… It’s no big deal, just so you know. You’re not my first.” He blushed until his cheeks were the color of cherries. “I, uh… Back in college, my frat had this scavenger hunt thing I had to do, and uh…” He chuckled and blushed. “I was just… It was on my list, and I had to do it, that’s all-“
“You don’t need to explain,” Avery said. He smiled. “Come on, let’s go. If you wanna stick it in me, you gotta stop talking.”
Pulling his own pants down, Mack sat sideways on a riding lawnmower, so he faced Avery. A big dick popped out of his underwear. Avery went for it with his mouth. He planted his lips right on it, and there was a twitch immediately as it flickered into life.
A gasp escaped from Mack’s lips, though he tried to look confident. He was also excessively concerned about noise — his sons still fought in the house, which was much too loud for anyone to hear Mack’s heavy breathing from the garage. But he jumped every time there was a noise, like when Shaw and Rowan knocked stuff over in the living room.
“Hey! That’s enough!” Woody was getting involved now, and Mack pursed his lips shut tightly because the house was suddenly silent. He threw his head back and let out a soundless moan, his open mouth hanging agape, tongue lolling out.
Soon Mack’s dick was hard, and it throbbed as it leaked precum down Avery’s throat. Avery licked the shaft, tracing the trail of the vein that ran up and down the underside of it. Mack let out a long, low-rumbling moan.
“You’re gonna stick it in me too, right?” Avery said because it looked like Mack was planning on cumming like this.
Mack chortled. He removed his baseball cap, ran his fingers through his hair, then put it back. “I dunno, hoss…”
Avery said. “That’s what you agreed to. You wanna back out?”
“No! I just… Just keep your voice down,” Mack said, even though he was the one who was loud.
Avery just kissed Mack on the cocktip, slathering spit on his shaft. “Are you ready ?” Before he gave Mack a chance to answer, Avery got down on his knees and sucked the sweat off Mack’s balls.
Mack gasped and writhed. His muscles all flexed, and he wanted to let out a shout but couldn’t because the family in the living room was being quiet now. They’d hear.
His balls were heavy and full, and Avery loved savoring them. Ballsacs always had such an intense flavor that brought tears to Avery’s eyes as he gurgled and choked on them. That was loud, but only in the immediate vicinity of the lawnmower on which Mack still sat. Mack remained paranoid though, alternating between shushing Avery and loudly gasping nervously.
“I can’t believe this is gonna be my first time putting it up the butt,” Mack said, his voice quavering as Avery pulled off his balls and stroked his dick with one hand. Avery turned around and aimed his ass for Mack’s crotch. Mack sighed. “Girls always say it’s gross. Chicks are all cockteases.”
“Yeah. You should totally stick your dick in dudes instead,” Avery said as he lowered himself onto Mack’s cock.
“You’re not really an unbiased advisor…” Mack said with a chuckle. He leaned way back, like he didn’t want to touch Avery’s body any more than necessary.
That meant it was up to Avery to do most of the actual movement here. He backed his ass up, grimacing at the intense pressure that ate up his focus. He grunted and gritted his teeth. This was especially awkward because Mack just sat there on the lawnmower, watching as Avery struggled to keep his ass in position — he had to kneel over and raise his ass as high as he could make it go.
Avery was just about to tell Mack they needed to try a different position when his ass finally loosened. A loud sigh emanated from deep in Avery’s precum-lubed throat. Mack sighed too, in shock as a surge of pleasure shot up his spine.
“Goddamn, man… Remember my dad can’t find out,” Mack said, his voice wavering like he was on the verge of tears. He whispered even though the TV was on in the living room, drowning out all other potential sounds. There was no way anyone in there could hear unless they stood with their ears literally on the garage door.
Mack’s fingers gingerly gripped Avery’s hips. Mack’s eyes opened wide, and his mouth was agape once more. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. He had hoped it might feel like a woman’s pussy, but he was shocked that it felt so much better. Mack blushed and writhed beneath Avery’s body.
He was so impassioned and aroused that he grabbed Avery’s hips, forgetting that he was trying not to touch Avery any more than absolutely necessary. He held onto Avery’s body and guided him up and down, even as his mind told him not to, that this was too weird.
Mack sighed. If his buddies ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it. And if his father found out? As Mack reached a potent orgasm, he was filled with terror that his dad would come in right now and see him — he’d tease Mack about it forever.
But Mack couldn’t help but respond as an incredible orgasm flowed through him. He’d never felt like this. He pounded on his muscular chest and threw his head back with such force that his backwards baseball cap fell off, landing on the lawnmower beneath him.
“Shit, man!” Mack shouted, finally loud enough that people in the living room could have heard it.
Cum flowed into Avery’s ass, great gobs of it that filled him up. Since he was on top, it ran out and down his leg onto the floor of the garage. Avery shot his own wad, but most of it ended up in the body of the lawnmower.
Their orgasm continued for what felt like forever. Mack had never experienced anything like this, but it was old hat for Avery. He let out a long, cringing moan, then leaned back and rubbed his face against Mack’s well-muscled chest.
“Hmmm…” Avery murmured into Mack’s muscular arms, which wrapped around him as both men finished their climaxes and cum seeped out of Avery’s ass onto the floor of the garage and the side of the lawnmower.
They both fell back, limp and exhausted. Avery stretched his weary legs. He didn’t want to leave just yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time before their absences were noted. Avery pulled his pants up and kissed Mack on the neck.
“Thanks,” Mack said. Avery gave him the two hundred dollars he had promised.
“You’re welcome,” Avery said.
Avery went back out to the living room — leaving Mack to breathe heavily and recover in the garage — where he watched little Jason be cute for awhile with the other males. But they were mostly watching a football game, not the kid. Avery quickly lost interest because he hated football. The only part of football he considered exciting was the men — sometimes you could catch a glimpse of their jockstraps. But he wasn’t having much luck with that today, and the menfolk were boring, silently watching the game. The fight between Rowan and Shaw seemed to have ended. They now sat next to each other quietly, meanmugging.
So Avery went into the kitchen to see how Thanksgiving dinner was progressing.
It was, except for the turkey being undercooked and then accidentally dropped on the floor, done.
The women — Lenore and Vanessa, Mack’s wife (and therefore Lenore’s sister-in-law) — had knocked it off the table when a fight began mere seconds before Avery walked in the door. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, watching the fight and struggling to process what he saw. He’d known Lenore for a long time, and she had never been the type to get into a slapfight.
“Don’t you dare talk about my son!”
“You filthy bitch, you turned my brother into a douche, and you’re trying to raise my nephews to be just as bad!”
“You’re not even a mother, you don’t get to criticize how I raise my son!”
They both tried to hit each other. A loud smacking sound rang out, but Avery couldn’t tell who had made a good hit and who hadn’t. Both women erupted in shouting and insults. Avery was still too shocked to respond right away.
Finally, Avery grabbed Vanessa and pulled her off Lenore just as the kitchen filled with the rest of the menfolk. They were all dumbfounded by the eruption of anger, and even Jason stayed silent and still, hugging his father’s leg.
“You elitist whore!” Lenore screamed. “Just because you’re so vain and self-obsessed as to spend nine hundred dollars on shoes, doesn’t mean I have to!”
“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t steal my shoes from the funerals of obese spinsters,” Vanessa said with a haughty glance at Lenore’s clunky brown shoes.
“You sticky-cunted bitch!”
“I’ll rip your goddamn eyes out!”
Mack stepped forward to intervene. He left his son behind to stand between the two. He put his hands up and said something that Avery couldn’t hear because of the loud shouting of the women.
Avery thought he was being the only responsible one in the room by grabbing little Jason by the hand and taking him out. Woody had the same idea at the same time though, and he scooped Jason up in his arms.
“Grandpa! What are they saying?”
“Nevermind them, they ain’t actin’ like adults,” Woody said. He and Avery went with Jason out to the backyard. Once the door was closed and they couldn’t hear the fight anymore, Avery felt a lot better. He was just about ready for this Thanksgiving to be over.
“No one fights like family,” Avery said, a little awkwardly — he didn’t know what else to say. Jason stood among a bucket of toy cars he had brought to the house. He was outside, and he seemed to realize he was supposed to play with those toys. But he didn’t know how or was too stressed by the fight to do so. Avery cleared his throat as he sat down with Jason and his toys, getting him started. “The turkey is not edible.”
“Yeah… I’ll do something about it.” Woody said. He called in an order for pizza, and then poked his head back inside. “”Hey y’all, hey! Hey! Shut the fuck up for a second! Hey! I ordered a pizza since you dicks have ruined everything. Y’all better pay, and you better give a good tip cuz it’s a holiday.” He slammed the door shut before anyone could respond. He looked at Avery. “It has been a hell of a day.”
“Gotta love your family…” Avery with a wry grin. Now that the fight was over and Avery had played with Jason’s toy cars, Jason had lost his inhibitions — he showed Avery how he was “doing it wrong”, then started playing on his own. Soon the fight faded to a dull roar, and Jason seemed to have forgotten about it.
He thought he was alone, but at some point, Shaw came into the living room.
“Look…” Shaw leaned in and whispered in Avery’s ear. “I need some booty, man… I’ll… give you a reacharound if you let me take you in the garage and plow into you until your asshole falls off.”
Avery sighed and squirmed as Shaw’s hand roamed over his back lightly. Then they both hurried — without walking quickly because people in the house could have been looking — to the garage. Once they got in without being seen, Shaw groaned.
“I knew I ain’t wanna have no Thanksgiving, what a pain! And we won’t even get to eat none of that turkey,” Shaw said as he dropped his pants. He scoffed. “Only pizza place open today is shitty as hell. Vonelli’s, man, fuckin’ awful.” He flopped his limp dick between his legs. “C’mon, hurry up. I’ve been waitin’ for food all day, and I am not missing that pizza.”
It all only took a minute or two for Avery to have his pants around his ankles and for Shaw to jam his still-limp dick into Avery’s ass. He stiffened up, rubbing his cock between his asscheeks. It all happened so quickly that Avery still wasn’t quite ready. His knees remained sore from getting plowed — right here in this garage, on the lawnmower against which Shaw leaned now — earlier, and this was all happening so fast.
“Damn, you’re… in a hurry,” Avery said with a chuckle. Then he bit his lip. Shaw’s cock slammed into him, and he grunted loudly. Avery squirmed and gasped. “Shit!”
“Shush…” Shaw snorted and sighed moistly, the sound resonating in Avery’s ears as he worked himself back on Shaw’s dick. Shaw’s hands roamed over his torso and shoulders, holding Avery in place. He drilled his dick in bit by bit.
“Shit, don’t let my dad or grandpa know about this,” Shaw said. He inhaled deeply of the scent of Avery’s face. “And especially not this.” He gripped Avery’s dick.
Avery was so shocked he couldn’t respond as pangs of pleasure shot through him — he would have never thought someone like Shaw would give him a reacharound. He was pinned between Shaw and the wall, which he clawed at and gasped into.
His hand fumbled with Avery’s cock crudely. It was obvious he had little experience with this. In Shaw’s fraternity, there had been a “rule” that was oft-mentioned: you can cornhole your assigned pledge, but you have to give him a reacharound. Having been on both sides of that equation, Shaw had few inhibitions about it now. Jacking Avery off didn’t even feel any different than jacking himself off, except that he got to plow into Avery’s tight ass at the same time.
An orgasm hit Avery first. He writhed beneath Shaw’s arms and cried out. The most exquisite bliss flowed through his veins as cum flowed into his ass and Shaw sighed into his ear.
“Shit, goddamn,” Shaw said with a sigh. “Thanks, man, I needed that.” The last few drops of cum filled up Avery’s ass.
“Yeah, me too,” Avery said. Shaw kept going, moaning right into Avery’s ear, which he nibbled on too as he gyrated his hips. That turned his cumload into a big frothy mess that dripped down Avery’s legs.
“Hey Grandpa! Pizza’s here! Where’s your wallet?”
“Shaw, c’mon! Pizza!”
“Where’s Avery?”
Shaw moaned, his voice breaking. He swore and slapped Avery’s asscheek as he pulled out. His last few jets of jizz spurted over Avery’s back. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said.
“Shaw!”
“I’m coming!” he shouted, then he laughed. He spoke more quietly. “Or rather… I just came.”
Avery sighed and sat on the cold cement floor of the garage. “You go ahead. I gotta recover. Thanks for lettin’ me come to your house for Thanksgiving,” he said with a bashful smile. He wiped his ass clean with a rag from the garage. “Your family has been gracious hosts.”

The Veteran

Avery is hoping to see some admirable male physiques at a notorious campground, so he hangs out cruising the scene. When one alpha male Army vet catches his eye, Avery is off to the races in hopes of landing the outrageous manhood of this military stud.

Can Avery land the man of his dreams?

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Avery leaned back in his camp chair and sipped at his nalgene bottle full of ice-cold water. He had a cooler in the tent. It tasted good. It had taken him hours to get all set up. Putting a tent up seemed to get more arduous every time he did it, he thought, as his joints got older.
Campgrounds always made him feel old these days anyway. It seemed like everyone he saw was younger than him. Public campgrounds like this used to be full of older people. That was what Avery thought about them when he was growing up. It was a place full of old people. Now, he was the old people.
He was in rural Wyoming. He didn’t know any of the people, but he knew that, sooner or later, he’d make a friend. The people in this kind of place were always nice. That was why Avery liked to hang out in campgrounds.
That and the fact that men with excellent physiques were usually there too. Fat and skinny men as well, but not as many. Maybe, Avery thought, the out-of-shape ones were at home eating potato chips and commenting on the internet, leaving the more well-formed men to throng in place like this, the Crambighter Woods campground.
“Anybody wanna drum fo’ us? We need some rhythm, boy howdy!”
“Who got a percussion?”
A band was starting up, an impromptu group around the campfire near Avery’s tent. They had been talking about music and discovered several of them had brought guitars, so they started tuning up.
“I can drum,” Avery said when he casually milled in that direction. He was self-conscious because it seemed a lot of these guys knew each other. But he wanted to fit in, and he was a drummer — he had even been in a band as a teenager.
Someone produced a bongo drum. Avery had never actually used one, but once he got started, he got the hang of it. It wasn’t any different than the drumsticks he was used to.
It was just a jam session — not even any singing. They played popular songs by the Rolling Stones, Beatles, Hank Williams Jr, Dwight Yoakam. Avery just played the rhythm, but he didn’t mind. He liked being part of the group.
There were quite a few women at the Crambighter this weekend. That was a well-known campground with lots of ladies, giving the men plenty of opportunities for sex. That was a big part of why so many men came here. Avery was only interested in the men — women bored him — but he appreciated the women because they attracted the men. A lot of the ladies were’t that ladylike anyway — some were outright prostitutes. That would make it difficult for Avery to find a man willing to swing downlow. The handsomest ones had women hanging off them.
As Avery started banging out a Funkadelic song — a man with a bass had shown up and requested it — he took stock of his options. There was a blond long-haired stud who looked Nordic, but he had a woman with him and Avery gathered from her body language that they were going to go off and fuck soon. There was a scruffy young biker-type (impossible to tell if he was really a biker or not, but his beard and tattoos made him look bikerish, or at least he was attempting to come across that way) who looked promising but had gotten drunk. He would be too drunk by the time Avery managed to get him alone.
All that guy-watch made Avery lose the rhythm for a moment. Luckily no one noticed in the cacophony of guitars. It was hard to stay in sync, because Avery was pretty sure some of the guys were playing “Up for the Downstroke” — technically a Parliament song — instead of “Hit It & Quit It” as they had agreed.
A man caught Avery’s eye, and that made him stop drumming for a moment.
He looked military. He definitely wasn’t, judging from the mustache which was surely not regulation, but he had a crew-cut and he was slightly balding, and he wore a green tee shirt like a soldier over workpants splattered with white paint. He was in his mid-forties, older than most of the men here, and he slightly balding, but his tight tee shirt showed off a potent body. He wore his pants high — very unfashionable — and heavy boots on his broad feet.
Maybe a cop? He looked like maybe a cop. But there were people smoking weed not far away — Avery had smelled it earlier — so he thought a cop, even an off-duty one, would have either intervened or left. Maybe a former cop.
He certainly carried himself like an authority figure, that was for sure. He glowered at the carousing, drunk bikers and rednecks who fell over each other around the campfire. He didn’t say anything. Was he here with someone? Avery didn’t think so.
As Avery banged on his bongo, he saw the man talk to a woman finally. He looked stiff, nervous like a man half his age, and Avery could tell instantly that she was turned off. She was blatantly the fun-loving youngster-type, Avery thought, she was never going to go for a dowdy daddy like him.
But Avery did overhear — in a brief break in the song — that the man’s name was Bernard. That was a great name for a sturdy man, Avery thought, it made him think of big dogs and mountain passes.
“Play ‘Free Bird’!”
“Who wants to blow this joint?”
“Yeah!” A chorus of agreement rang out. It seemed nobody wanted to play “Free Bird”. Avery certainly didn’t. He had his limits.
The band disbanded to go smoke weed. Avery wasn’t interested in that either. He milled about and saw Bernard talk to another woman, this one a bit older, plumper, precisely the type who might like Bernard’s thick body and burly middle-aged look.
But in the hustle of everyone switching places, Avery was jostled about and he lost track of Bernard. He was pretty sure Bernard had gone into a tent with the thick girl.
Oh well… Avery sighed. That little opportunity was busted. He ought to have gone smoking weed with the other guys. Now he both didn’t have Bernard and wasn’t stoned.
He was alone again. Hot chicks had hooked up with handsome guys with nice cars; fat chicks had hooked up with handsome guys without cars; couples had retired to their tents, and the night was drawing to a close.
It was funny how that happened so fast at campground events like this. Once a few charismatic people realized they were tired — or found someone and somewhere to fuck — the remainder were all introverted weirdos like Avery. The party dwindled.
That wasn’t a problem for Avery’s plans. In an hour or two, any man who had failed to land a woman would be ripe for the plucking. Anyone drunk would be passed out cold. Avery could take his pick from the remainder, most of whom would be horny enough and desperate enough to at least let Avery give them a handjob.
But he had to wait a bit for that. He decided to go take a shower. Not only were there probably lots of men there, he just plain needed to bathe.
The showerhouse was near the entrance to the Crambighter Campground. Avery flopped there in his sandals, carrying a towel and his shower gear. He went to the adult men’s side — it was divided into quarters, for adults and juveniles, both male and female (though this weekend was an adults-only event, which was why drinking was allowed).
No one was in there. Avery was disappointed. Maybe he was going to strike out tonight after all. It seemed the women this weekend were determined to use up all the men. The showerhouse was big and empty, cold until he turned the hot water on. At least the lack of people meant there was plenty of hot water.
Avery started showering by himself. It felt lonely in that big cavernous space all alone. He wished someone else would be here, even some old loser.
The door swung open, and Avery held his breath — it took a few moments for whoever it was to come around the corner.
It was him!
It was Bernard. Avery was giddy, and his heart skipped a beat. Bernard hadn’t hooked up with that plump girl after all. Her loss.
He glanced at Avery and nodded a polite hello, then went to the changing area. Bernard had a furrowed brow, and his muscles were tense from the moment he walked in. Was that a bulge in his workpants? Did he have a hardon?
That was when Avery noticed the little cut on his cheek, which was red. He had been slapped.
That explained it! He had hooked up with the heavy girl, but he must have come on too strong or something. She slapped him, and judging from the bruising Avery saw, she either did it a couple times or she really packed a wallop. Either option seemed possible.
Bernard hesitated. He eyed the slim white man — Avery — with a dim eye. He rather wished he was showering alone, as then he could jack himself off. He needed that. That plump woman had blueballed him. When he dropped his pants — standing behind the barrier that protected the changing area from the showers — he saw that his dick was still hard.
Instead he just stood there and sighed. When he realized that made him seem weirder than having a hardon would be, he just shrugged and went into the showering area. Avery stared at his erect cock when it became visible.
“Don’t make fun, man,” Bernard said, his voice a low throaty growl, like he didn’t speak often and his vocal cords were unpracticed. He looked at his massive dick, still mostly hard and throbbing, begging for action. “I got hard earlier and couldn’t get it down, I was wit’ this female, man, and she slapped the shit outta me. Got me all worked up and then ain’t wanna put out.”
“Oh yeah? That sucks…” Avery clucked his tongue. “You poor baby.”
Bernard nodded and stepped under the showerhead furthest from Avery. “Wish I was drunk,” Bernard said. The water sprayed over his broad chest. His body hair was already matted to his skin with sweat — he was palpably hot, Avery could feel his body heat when he walked by, his plump but chunky thick-body ass jiggling as he did. Avery saw that erect cock and had to stop himself from drooling.
Avery’s mind raced as he considered what it might take to land a taste of Bernard’s excellent meat.
“Man, she invited me into her tent, ‘nd shit, man, swear to god, she was beggin’ for it. Then all of a sudden she say she only doin’ handstuff.” He threw his hands in the air — revealing big bushy armpits — and scowled. “What the fuck? Is we in middle school again? She was like nearly thirty…” He rolled his eyes. “Doin’ handstuff…”
Avery chuckled. “Yeah… girls can be teases.”
“Yeah.” Bernard grunted. “I can do handstuff mah own goddamn self!” He poured shampoo into his hand and washed his scalp — his hair was so short Avery didn’t see the point, but he didn’t say that out loud. Maybe it was dandruff shampoo.
“You still have a hardon.”
As he rinsed the shampoo off his scalp, Bernard opened his eyes and glowered darkly at Avery. Obviously Avery wasn’t supposed to mention it after Bernard already apologized for it. Avery smiled at him, and he turned his hips so Bernard could see his pale, smooth ass.
Bernard groaned.
Avery saw the thoughts flicker over Bernard’s face. Avery didn’t make any offer yet, wanting to give Bernard a chance to ruminate on his options. Avery continued washing his body with a washcloth, making sure his smoothness and petite frame were visible in the dim light of the showerhouse. He turned around to dance his ass towards Bernard.
Bernard narrowed his eyes to slits at the sight of Avery’s plump bubble-butt. Avery was slim, but his ass was thick, plump, smooth. It looked tight too. Bernard could just plow into that. It would feel so good, he thought.
But he wasn’t going to do that.
He had done it, once, back in boot camp. He and a buddy had had leave together, and when Bernard was unable to find a prostitute — this was back in the 1970s in a remote part of Alaska — he had traded mouth with his buddy. They just jacked each other off first, but when that proved difficult to cum to, they had sixty-nined. Later, Bernard woke up to find himself grinding his cock into his buddy’s asshole and giving a reacharound as he did it.
That had been one crazy weekend that he had blocked out of his mind. Bernard didn’t think about that, and when he did think about it, he tried to convince himself it hadn’t happened.
But his cock, he soon realized, had gotten harder since he walked in here. It wasn’t going to go down. It throbbed and pulsated like it had a mind of its own, a mind that was demanding a warm, tight place to ram itself into. The more he looked at Avery’s taut ass and his creamy smooth skin like a woman’s, the more Bernard wanted him.
He has such soft lips too, Bernard though, be he could do amazing things with those lips.
“So do you have a wife?” Avery asked. He already guessed the answer, but he wanted to keep Bernard thinking about women and sex.
“No.” Bernard grunted. His mind raced too fast to think of anything to say except touch my dick, which he couldn’t bring himself to say no matter how much he wanted it to happen.
“Are you okay? You looked upset,” Avery said. “Or maybe it’s just that hardon that won’t go away. You want me to help?”
“Uh…” Bernard closed his eyes. He spread his legs and put his hands behind his back as though he was at parade rest. He jutted his hips forward enough to make his foot-long dick stick out, making it look even bigger. His chest muscles rippled.
That was a pretty clear signal, Avery thought. He came closer.
Bernard looked so handsome, like an AWOL soldier about to be scolded by his commanding officer. He winced even before Avery got on his knees in front of him. Avery waited a good long time to give him a chance to change his mind — he knew Bernard was ready when he peeked his eyes open to see why Avery hadn’t started yet.
Avery plunged deep on his dick then, all in one smooth motion, slamming his head all the way down. He wanted to interrupt that parade-rest position, but Bernard forced himself to stay put. He swayed back and forth but didn’t move his feet or his hands. His chest muscles all flexed like it took all of his effort to avoid moving his hands — he no doubt wanted to hold Avery’s head and ram his throat — alphas always wanted that — but thought that would feel too weird.
It was cute to watch. Bernard furiously squeezed his eyes shut and refused to move either his feet or his arms. He was so focused on keeping his limbs still that he made lots of horse-like snorting and whinnying sounds as his hips tossed his upper body around like a bobblehead.
His dick tasted like the paint-stained workpants he had been wearing. That was because he had gotten hard wearing them, Avery thought — he’d long noticed that men who concealed hardons in their pants ended up smelling like their pants when they finally got their dick out, like the scent of his fabric had seeped into his dickshaft. He must have been horny enough with that woman to leak some precum from his dick, because Avery could taste the salt of recently dried funk on his shaft as well. Avery’s tongue slathered spit up and down, gathering up all that stale flavor and the desperate sexual frustration in Bernard’s manhood.
“Ah, goddamn, man… Shit, I needed that…” Bernard’s tension slowly melted away. His muscles gradually relaxed. He remained at parade-rest, hands firmly locked on his own wrists behind his ass. His whole body tensed and flexed and buckled, as he let out petite groans and grunts.
“Can I slurp on your balls, sir?” Avery asked, letting his voice gurgle moistly with the salty precum that coated his lips.
“Hmmm… Oh god, yeah… lick my balls, man, c’mon…” Bernard’s deep voice echoed. “I love that…” He was one of those people who didn’t really have the ability to whisper, Avery thought. He was so big that he had a deep, rumbling voice, which melded in with the hum of the fluorescent lights and the excited shouts outside by the campfire, so his voice wasn’t very disruptive even if it was quiet. It sort of melded in with the atmosphere of the campground.
Avery produced copious spit that flowed down Bernard’s shaft all the way to his heavy balls, which Avery slurped and licked loudly, his tongue working all over the hairy sac. He made his own saliva drip into puddles on the linoleum floor before running to the drain. Two showers still sprayed warm water, but Bernard had backed up to the wall, so he was out of the spray of both showers.
“Hmmm, ah yeah, man… it’s been a long time since, uh… someone licked my balls,” Bernard said. He very nearly said ‘a dude’ but stopped himself because he wasn’t ready to admit he’d messed with a man back in boot camp. But it was true, no girl had ever licked his balls for more than a few seconds because they were too big, too heavy, too low-hanging, and too hairy.
They were just plain too much.
Those traits were exactly why Avery loved them. Women don’t know how to value a hairy, sweaty ballsac. He slurped down every drop of shower-water that still clung to Bernard’s sac, and he slipped his head between those powerful legs too.
Soon, Avery was on the other side, kissing each of his work-weary asscheeks below which his hands had a death-grip on each other. “You ready to ram me?” Avery asked, as he licked the mighty meat of Bernard’s ass.
“Hell yeah…” Bernard murmured.
Avery slid back in front of Bernard on the smooth linoleum floor, arranging himself on all fours, with his ass high in the air. Bernard’s eyes opened wide.
There’s that ass again. It’s so tight. Tell him no. Tell him you only want to do mouth-stuff.
But his asshole beckoned, and Bernard didn’t want to back out. It was so warm and smooth, better than that girl’s chunky ass would have been, Bernard thought but would never say out loud. He blushed as though someone might have heard his thought. He was already kneeling behind Avery before he even decided to do it.
It was like his body was on autopilot. Even with his buddy in boot camp, Bernard had never done it like this. That had been fumbling in the dark, not an actual hardcore cock-in-ass ramrodding, like they were prisoners on lockdown.
“Aaaah…” He finally used his hands on Avery’s body. He gripped each of this thick bubble-butt cheeks and held on tight as he plowed in. Avery’s hole was tight and resisted at first, but with just a little push, Bernard’s cock sank in deeply.
“Shit!” Avery yelped. Bernard had a big dick, and there was a potent pinching pressure in Avery’s backside. Avery lifted one foot off the ground and howled.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, go on, keep going,” Avery said breathlessly as more and more of Bernard’s mature meat slid into him, ignoring his body’s instinctual resistance. Avery moaned, as his prostate came alive and sent waves of sensation through his body. He heard activity outside the showerhouse — he suspected some men had heard what was going on in here and left so they wouldn’t walk in on it. That made Avery laugh to himself even as he grunted in pain.
With a final potent push, Bernard’s entire cock was inside him. Avery cried out for more, as Bernard began pumping his hips back and forth. Bernard was shocked — few girls could take his dick in its entirety, especially without a lot of lube and extra time to adjust. Avery had simply taken it with a minimum of whimpering, and now he moaned with pleasure that grew with every thrust of Bernard’s cock in and out of him.
“Damn, ah, shit!” Avery cried out again. His hands tightened into claws that dug at the linoleum floor of the showerhouse. He had scooted forward enough that his face was in the warm shower-water, while Bernard stayed mostly dry.
Bernard couldn’t ever fuck a woman like this, she would say he was doing it too hard, too rough, not romantic enough. It was nice to be able to just plow without worrying about that. He gripped Avery’s asscheeks and held on tight, using all of his weight and his strength to ram his meat in and out. He was so aroused he even found his hands roaming around to Avery’s cock.
He had given a reacharound back in boot camp, and he did it again out of instinct or habit, or maybe just plain repressed desire. He didn’t realize he had done it until his hands gripped Avery’s thick shaft and felt it pulsating beneath his grasp. Cum flowed over his fingers, as his grasp instantly sent Avery over the edge to his climax. It was hot and sticky, and it made Bernard focus his entire attention on that.
He was jacking a stranger off in the shower. He couldn’t believe it, but it didn’t slow him down any. He reached his own orgasm moments later, amid the frenzied moans arising from Avery’s throat. Jizz spurted out of both men, Avery’s puddling up near the drain it then flowed into while Bernard filled Avery’s ass with his creamy seed.
“Ah, shit, yeah, take it!”
Creamy cum sprayed deep into Avery’s ass. Avery had been just as surprised as Bernard about the sudden reacharound, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain. He just used both hands to support himself as he rammed his ass back and forth on Bernard’s studly cock.
More and more juices filled Avery up, turning into a frothy mess that dripped onto the floor of the showerhouse. The smell of funk was intense and potent, and it didn’t wash away even with the pair of showers still on.
Finally he was done. Bernard leaned back until his cock plopped out. Both men felt a surge of relief and an intense twinge of pleasure that dwindled slowly.
He sighed grandly. “Shit, man… I don’t even miss that girl.”
“Wanna sleep in my tent?” Avery asked, breathless and sweaty. He needed to take a whole nother shower, he thought with a laugh.
Bernard blushed and bit his lip. “I mean… I dunno…”
“How about this? It’s the red tent at the corner there by the campfire ring. You know where I mean…? The big one? You can just come in, so no one will know I’m already in there when you come in. You can just slide right in,” Avery said. “I’ll wake up if I’m already asleep.”
“Okay…” Bernard gulped.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be a ton of fun,” Avery said. He displayed his ass as Bernard backed out towards the changing area again. Avery stuck a finger in, brought some cum out and smeared it over his asscheek. “I’ll just get ready.”
Bernard grabbed his clothes and ran out. He didn’t even bother to get dressed first. His cock flopped between his legs as he tumbled out into the darkness. Luckily, nobody noticed.
Was he really going to sleep with that man tonight? He told himself no, but he had a feeling the answer was yes.
If I can’t find a woman, I’ll go back to him. But I’ll really try. For real. I won’t just wait a few minutes and then go there. Sir, no, sir.

The Marine Bottoms

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

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

The Space Marine

When Avery is rescued by a heroic space marine, he didn’t realize he was in for a taste of sweat-nasty alpha male military meat! This is his most incredible adventure in down and dirty man-on-man action yet!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here

Avery knew that the Space Marine Corps would come rescue him, but that didn’t make it any less scary. Or at least, not all that much less scary.
His ship had been overrun by the Beta-Rezzedian bug-people, who were a sort of gooey beetle-like species of human-genociding monster.
When the Beta-Rezzedian people swarmed into Avery’s mostly empty ship, he activated the switch that released a poison gas. They quickly died, while Avery waited it out in space. It was pretty grody, the beetle-people’s bodies leaking fluids onto the floor of the ship, their carapace disintegrated and their innards flowing like spilled spaghetti onto the floor.
Avery didn’t much care about the ship though, so he wasn’t worried about the mess. He was going to abandon it. He was the only person on board, and he had already sent out the rescue signal. He waited with a spacesuit on, sitting on top of the ship while the beetles died inside.
The stars shone in the inky blackness of space, which was suffocatingly silent, the only sound Avery could hear being the pump of his own oxygen tank. Inside the Beta-Rezzedians melted from the inside out, but Avery didn’t hear that. He just waited.
Space was not beautiful here, Avery thought. It was just an inky black vastness. Even with the spacesuit on, Avery could feel the sheer nothingness all around him, nothingness so profound it would turn him to nothing too. In some parts of space, it had a calm, sepulchral beauty to it.
But not here, he thought, or maybe it was just the knowledge that the ship beneath him was filled with liquified bug-people. Maybe knowing that put him in a foul mood and tainted everything he saw.
Finally, just when he was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t going to happen, there was the UFW Joseph Conrad, a ship from the United Federation of Worlds. They were simply a beam of light at first, a mote in the infinite blackness of space. Avery hurried back into the ship even though he had hours to spare before the Joseph Conrad made it here.
The bugs were gone, the ship covered in goo. The poison gas smell lingered (it wasn’t toxic to humans, though it would be nauseating in large doses). Avery quickly grew bored waiting. He practiced his distressed wail.
UFW Joseph Conrad to Private Ship XKIL233234, do you read me?
“Yes, sir… I’m sorry, sir, I don’t know how to work this radio. Are you getting this?” Avery tried to sound helpless.
Yes, we heard you, sir. We have received your distress signal and are en route.
Avery went to the pilot’s pod, the only part of the ship not covered in Beta-Rezzedian innards. He waited there.
“There he is, we got you, sir-“
“You have nothing to fear, all the buggers are gone!”
Avery was disappointed that some shirtless hunk didn’t carry him to the rescue ship. But their sensors still read poison gas, and they beamed aboard well before they could determine that the air was safe. They wore biohazard suits — distinctly unsexy. Avery wasn’t even positive that the person who carried him was human until they got aboard the Joseph Conrad.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, sir, we gotcha!” said the scruffy-bearded space marine when his helmet was finally off.
“Oh, I… I… I don’t think I’ll ever feel right again!” Avery said, pretending to feel faint so the space marine would hold him in his arms.
He was Private Wojohowitz, but everyone called him Wojo. Once he took the protective suit off, he was down to his skivvies and a tee shirt that was so stained it was black. He didn’t have time to put more clothes on because he wanted to get Avery to sickbay right away.
Besides that, it was ungodly hot on the Joseph Conrad, and there were no women. So more than one space marine went around fully naked all the time. Avery spied one such man just before being whisked into the sickbay.
“Oh, I’m feeling much better-“
“Well, I’ll need to monitor you for awhile. You had a traumatic experience, after all,” the doctor said. He was handsome and steely-eyed, but he was a little old for Avery’s taste, and he was no space marine.
Avery wanted Wojo.
But he waited until the doctor was done, or at least had walked away. Then Avery got up, detached the needles and monitors from his body and headed out.
He went off to find the man who had rescued him, that square-jawed steely-eyed man, Wojo. He found him in the gym, playing a game with another studly young man. It was something rather like squash or racquetball, Avery gathered, but with flashing multicolored lights that appeared to mean something. By the time he thought he was starting to understand it, it was over, and Wojo had won.
He came out of the room shirtless and sweaty, bucking his hips and chanting. “I’m the champion once again!” He pounded on his chest and bumped the man he had just beaten, who scowled, hair matted to his head.
Then Wojo saw Avery standing there, fully-clothed and not at all looking like a space marine. “Oh, hey, you’re looking better.”
“Hmmm…” Avery grinned and looked Wojo up and down, blushing as he was overwhelmed by the body heat and the intense macho aura emanating from Wojo’s body. “I wanted to say thank you for rescuing me.”
“You ain’t gotta do that.” Wojo was visibly jazzed up. His pecs bounced a few times, seemingly without his awareness, and he shifted his weight on his feet. He would always deny it, but Wojo got a thrill when he realized Avery was checking out his body. “It’s our duty, you ain’t gotta say thanks.”
“Well… not say it. I wanted to demonstrate it,” Avery said. He sucked on one finger while his other hand grasped Wojo’s sweat-soaked shirt. He pulled gently on the fabric.
Wojo’s eyes opened wide and he nodded. He licked his lips as he looked Avery up and down. He shifted his weight between his feet, then moved to pull his workout shorts down but stopped short — he had forgotten they weren’t somewhere private.
He checked that no one was watching — there were others preparing to work out, or to play this squash-like game next, but no one facing this way right now. He gripped Avery by the lip and spread his mouth. He examined it briefly — whether checking for disease or whether it would be big enough to deep-throat him, Avery couldn’t tell — then grabbed his ass through his clothes. He slipped one hand into Avery’s pants, fingered his asshole very lightly and then nodded. He wiped his finger off on Avery’s shoulder. He looked dubiously into Avery’s eyes. “You’re into that?”
“I am… Do you have any women on this ship?”
Wojo scoffed. “No. It’s not allowed, no women aboard a Corps vessel. The presence of women saps men of their power.”
“Hmm… I can do that too. I love sapping all kinds of things out of men,” Avery said with a giggle.
“Come then.” He grabbed Avery by the wrist and dragged him off. He walked awkwardly like he had a hardon already, and it kept getting worse in his pants. Avery teased him by breathing heavily so he could hear it, and moaning softly into his ear from behind.
“You’re going to ram me, right? Do I get to eat your ass too?” Avery stuck his tongue out and licked his lips. Wojo faced the other way so he couldn’t see, but he could hear it and his ears pricked up. Avery smiled — he knew he had him.
Wojo stopped short. “You serious?” His face turned from serious to giddy, then serious again. He took a deep breath. “Hell yeah, that’s nasty. No one can find out though, they’ll make fun of me for rammin’ a man.”
“Sure. Is it against the rules?”
“Sorta. It’s not a big deal, but, like… I don’t wanna get caught anyway.” He licked his lips and grabbed his cock through his satiny shorts. Avery tried to touch them too, but Wojo stopped him and continued.
Wojo led him out of the gym and into the locker room. Beyond that was a long row of showering stalls. Avery was annoyed to see that they were all individual stalls. Usually space marines had big shared showers, and that, he thought, was always sexier.
As he walked through the showering area, Wojo dropped his shorts, not even willing to take the time to stop walking first. Avery tried to get a grope of his ass, but Wojo walked more quickly than him and he couldn’t really get a touch. Finally Wojo stopped and Avery bumped into his sweaty back. His asscheeks jiggled as Avery had to clutch them for support.
“You really gonna eat my ass? And jerk me off, aw, fuck yeah,” Wojo said, his voice increasing in volume now that they were alone in the shower. He had a big grin on his face. He loved to ram, and he didn’t get to do it very often. Avery’s hand stroked those hairy asscheeks so plump and full of power.
There was a tattoo there on Wojo’s lower back, an outline of a spaceship and a phrase in an ancient script: Honor Is the Only Virtue.
“Some of the nice-lookin’ guys get their ass eat up by girls, like whores.” He blushed, licking his lips like he couldn’t wait to start. “I’m too hairy, they won’t do that to me.”
“You poor baby…”
They went to one of the shower stalls in the middle — since there were two entrances, one at either end, those were the remotest showers. The stalls were not completely enclosed, however, and the walls only went up to chest height (on Wojo; it extended up almost to Avery’s shoulders).
“Goddamn, man, I really need this. Get on your knees, okay? C’mon, get on your knees. Let’s go it, let’s go,” Wojo said, excited like a little boy on Christmas.
No one else was showering at the moment, and since the room wasn’t hot or humid, and Wojo didn’t seem concerned, Avery guessed this was not a designated showering time. That was good because Avery didn’t want to get interrupted and caught. Once they were safely behind the little curtain — which only covered about a foot of vertical space, just barely enough to conceal most men’s groin and butt regions — Avery dropped to his knees as Wojo turned the water on.
It was scorching hot at first, and Avery yelped. He crawled away, and Wojo fell, nearly on top of him.
It was a good thing that Wojo was already slick with sweat or he would have toppled right onto Avery’s leg and probably broken it because he was so heavy. His muscles were dense and leaden, and he fell on the threshold between the tile flower and the shower tub. Instead he just slid over Avery’s ankle and then his heavy, fur-covered thigh landed on Avery’s chest.
Intertangled as they were on the ground — which was freezing cold linoleum right up to where the water spray made it burning hot — Avery finally got a really good grope of Wojo’s ass and trunk-like thighs. Wojo reached up to turn the cold water up as he struggled to his feet in the slippery shower.
He furrowed his brow at Avery, who blushed, his hands caressing Wojo’s tattooed muscles. There was a flower, something similar to a tulip, on Wojo’s thigh. It was a brilliant flash of green leaves and rich violent petals, just fingernail-sized and right on his inner thigh.
“What’s that? Why’d you get a flower tattoo?”
He blushed. “It’s nothing. It’s… just part of being in this unit,” he said. He was in the shower spray now that the water had cooled down enough that it was merely hot, not scorching. Avery pretended to have difficulty standing and used Wojo’s sturdy body for support. Clean water flowed over them both, and Avery licked some of the sweat off Wojo’s chest before it was washed away.
Wojo didn’t need to explain. The space marine corps had an informal rule that any man who was caught having sex with a very fat woman — like, very, very fat, probably morbidly obese — had to get this very tattoo somewhere on his body. Wojo had presumably chosen the inner thigh because it was unobtrusive and not very sensitive to pain. There were other colored tulips that members got tattooed to signify that they were caught in flagrante delicto with a nonhuman alien, a man, an old woman and even an animal, as well as variously embarrassing acts like touching another man’s balls when gangbanging a woman or cumming in one’s pants when getting a lapdance.
That thought made Avery giggle — he loved military men and their sophomoric machismo. He wondered if Wojo’s solitary tattoo signified that he was sexually inexperienced, or if he just never got caught doing any of the things that would warrant another colored tulip.
If he were caught ramming Avery, he’d have to get a pink tattoo of a tulip, which was called a “Pinkslit Tulip”.
“Oh, come on… tell me what it means,” Avery said with a laugh.
“Shush.” Wojo frowned. He looked very serious now. Reminding him about the tattoo had made him realize how much he didn’t want to get caught doing this. He didn’t think about not doing it — having not seen a woman for weeks, and having no chance of seeing one for weeks more, he was desperate to get his dick wet. “I ain’t allowed to explain it,” he said, his voice flat and unwavering. “It’s just a tattoo, it’s not important.”
Wojo gently but firmly pushed Avery to his knees, while he kept an eye out for anyone coming into the shower. A few voices could be heard out in the locker room, but Wojo wasn’t concerned.
Avery shrugged. He thought it would have been hot for Wojo to admit he fucked an extremely fat woman and had been caught by his friends. He’d liked to know what led to it happening — probably a prostitute, Avery guessed — but it seemed clear Wojo wasn’t going to be forthcoming with that.
So he finally got on his knees and popped Wojo’s dick in his mouth. Wojo didn’t look down, he just closed his eyes for a moment and grunted. Shower water streamed over his head, washing his sweat down over Avery’s face.
“Goddamn, yeah, get your tongue on it… Shit…” Wojo closed his eyes. The hot water felt so good in his greasy hair, and his cock throbbed as it came to life. He had to fight back an urge to shout and pound on his chest — he always wanted to be loud during sex — but he knew that would attract attention from the others. That was how he had gotten caught with the fat whore, whom Wojo adored and missed and looked forward to seeing again; he had yelled fuck yeah as he came so loudly that one of his squadmates, having just finished fucking a different prostitute, came to see what was happening. He had been dragged to the tattooist moments after blowing his wad inside her.
None of that was technically allowed. Neither pre-marital sex nor any kind of interaction with a prostitute nor any tattoo that communicated a message “incompatible with the mission of the Space Marine Corps” were allowed. Most of those rules, however, were enforced roughly never, certainly not on a bucket of bolts like this drifting through outer space. The brig on this ship had been turned into overflow shortage for canned food since the replicators had stopped working after about a week.
But aside from the tattoo, the only punishment for getting caught would maybe be a few weeks cleaning the shower — which Wojo would only do half-assedly anyway. It was mainly the teasing he wanted to avoid.
“Hell yeah, swallow that shit deep, man,” Wojo said, trying to keep his voice low despite being a big man with a chest-rattlingly deep voice. It resonated in the shower room. Luckily no one was around to hear it, though Avery heard voices talking and laughing not too far away.
Soon, Wojo’s manhood was rock-hard. He grunted and flexed his hips to ram Avery’s throat as hard as he could without making any noise or moving his head too much, since he wanted to keep an eye out. Avery reached up to massage his plump nipples; his pecs rippled, but then he swatted Avery’s hands away because they could be seen.
Creamy precum stuck to Avery’s lips and flowed down Wojo’s shaft. Every time Avery suckled a few drops off his veiny manhood, Wojo grunted again and his spine shimmied. He moved a lot because he thought it helped him avoid making noise — it didn’t really, it just felt quieter in Wojo’s mind because he was focused on his body instead.
Salty precum coated Avery’s tongue. He played with it, smearing it over his face and making a big mess with it, so when Wojo finally glanced down he beamed giddily and opened his eyes wide. “Shit, you love that nut, huh?” He chuckled dryly.
“I do… I love it so much…” Avery giggled every time he saw Wojo’s body trembling with desire and arousal. He was so horny Avery was pretty sure he could have brought him to orgasm with just seductive dirty-talk. Every time Avery moaned or begged for more, Wojo’s whole body shook. “Can I lick your balls, please? Please? Please?” Avery teased him by begging as Wojo frantically nodded yes.
“Do it, do it!”
Avery moved down to slurp on his balls, again making him shake. His dick throbbed and precum flowed like water from a hose. He gargled loudly on the precum that had coated his hairy sac, giggling and making Wojo scowl. “Shush!” Wojo scolded him even though Wojo was much louder than Avery was, and since Wojo had a deep baritone voice, it carried much more and echoed more resonantly in the showering area.
Avery backed up betweens Wojo’s legs, licking all the way, his tongue slathering spit over Wojo’s muscled thighs and slurping on his balls the whole way. He kept going, licking a trail to Wojo’s ass
By this point, clean water had rinsed away all of the sweat but there was still just enough funk to keep the flavor spicy enough for Avery. He plunged into Wojo’s hairy crack and slurped a trail up to his back. He was pinned behind and beneath Wojo’s massive body.
“Goddamn, boy, you really get in there! Not a single one of the whores’ll do that, I can barely get ‘em to touch me at all,” he said. “They say I’m too hairy and rough.” As if to prove the point, he belched, which made his whole hairy torso shake beneath Avery’s body. He laughed.
“What’re you laughing at, Wojo? Ya nasty-ass balls?”
Wojo hadn’t noticed Cowlick Squad coming in to shower. He had forgotten Cowlick Squad had a showering time now They had no reason to go past this shower stall, so he thought he was still safe. It was hard to be sure though. He wanted to be quick and get this over with, but he couldn’t tell Avery that now that more people were here. Besides that, his mind wanted to finish up quickly, but his cock wanted to bang for hours.
“He’s goin’ space-crazy-“
“He’s goin’ girl-crazy, ever since Lysette wouldn’t fuck him because his chest was too hairy-“
Wojo roared in anger. “Fuck you! I get ingrown hairs, okay? I’m not even allowed to shave my chest cuz they don’t wanna have to give me antibiotics-” He bit his lip because they were all just laughing at him, not listening.
Wojo’s whole body shook around Avery’s delicate fingers stroking his thighs and his ass. He reached up to rub his lower back too, which meant his hands were technically visible — just the fingertips, and with the shower room filling with steam, there wasn’t much risk — to the other space marines that swaggered through. They slapped each other’s asses and made jokes about dropping soap in the tiny showers they shared with each other.
“Get ya dick off my ass, boy!”
“Quit tryin’ to back ya ass up onto my cock!” A fight broke out in one of the other stalls. Two hairy men grappled naked with each other, exchanging punches and making the back-wall, which connected all the shower stalls, shake.
The noise of that fight drowned out the sound of Wojo trying not to cum right now. He didn’t want to cum before he got to ram Avery in the ass, and anyway, he didn’t want to get caught. He rumbled and rubbed his ass over Avery’s face. He couldn’t believe how good it felt to have someone’s tongue in his ass. He’d thought it would tickle or maybe barely feel like anything at all, but instead the most intense pleasure of his life wracked his body.
All he could do was stand there in the shower spray and hope he didn’t look weird as his whole body struggled to remain still, pleasure coursing through his veins. Avery slurped at his ass and covered it with spit.
The Cowlick Squad only used the first couple shower stalls. Surprisingly enough, they shared showers — that was another tradition among the Space Marine Corps, even though there were plenty of stalls open, they were supposed to share with their immediate squadmates as a sign of brotherhood and intimacy. Don;’t bend over in the shower — that was a “motto” of sorts of Wojo’s class of cadets, just eighteen year-olds who had never showered with other men before. The first time Wojo accidentally touched another man’s dick, he had gasped, and that other older man, a long-time drill sergeant, had laughed and called him a pansy. To prove it, right there in the crowded locker room — that hadn’t been this ship’s relatively spacious accommodations, that had been the boot camp’s cheap shared showering area — Wojo’s drill sergeant had bent over and taken one of his fellow officer’s dicks in his mouth. It was just for a moment, a chaste, dry thing, not even sexy, just to demonstrate that he could do it and not be embarrassed.
That had been the older generation though.
The shower room filled with steam as Avery moved his tongue back to Wojo’s dick, trying several times to touch his mountainous pecs. Each time Wojo swatted his hands away so they wouldn’t be seen. Wojo licked his lips. He realized he couldn’t wait for the other guys to leave because it would be obvious he was still in the shower; he’d have to cum right now.
So Wojo grabbed Avery by the shoulders, and tried to get him to change positions — so he could ram him in the ass — without saying anything or moving his head or shoulders.
“Hey, Wojo, did you see the orders about Garlaxon 9?”
“Yeah,” Wojo said. He bit his lip. He couldn’t concentrate as he tried to get Avery to move. His hand shook as he poured shampoo onto his palm. He washed his hair yet again.
Finally Avery realized what he wanted. He had to rather awkwardly bend over in the shower so he couldn’t be seen above the little half-wall. He gripped the slippery linoleum and jutted his ass up to meet Wojo’s crotch.
Getting rammed by big men was always awkward, even when they were experienced at it. Wojo was not, and he was stuck in a small space trying not to move anything above the shoulder. So that made it extra difficult for Avery, who had to handle all the movement, forcing himself onto Wojo’s cock.
He struggled, his ass straining to accept every inch of Wojo’s throbbing manhood. He practiced deep breathing as pain and pleasure enveloped him in equal amounts.
Avery grunted, but Wojo shushed him. Wojo shuddered too, barely managing to keep his head still, as a bolt of pleasure shot through his body. His dick slipped deeper into Avery’s ass.
“Wojo! Hey, Wojo! Wojo, man! Yo! Hey!” one of the other space marines shouted from another shower. He was very tall, so the half-wall barely extended past his hairy navel, and his pubic hair was plainly visible despite the wall. He had been yelling for Wojo for some time. Finally Wojo looked at him, steam filling the air between them, which concealed Wojo’s rolling eyes. The other space marine frowned. “What do you think of the Garlaxon rules of engagement?”
“Fine.” Wojo took a deep breath. “I mean… it sucks. It’s… it… Uh…” He felt his orgasm approaching, and even though people were looking at him right now, he couldn’t slow it down.
“Yeah, we gotta get permission from our squad leader just to go in a village-“
“We don’t even need a translator, it’s fucking ridiculous!”
“They said we can’t smoke anywhere on the planet either-“
“And we’re the ones saving them from the Beta-Rezzedians!”
“Uh-huh.” Wojo tried to sound like he was involved in the conversation even though he wasn’t paying any attention. He gripped Avery’s hips and drilled his dick in deeper and deeper.
Avery’s own orgasm began, heightened by the anxiety of the situation. He didn’t want to be responsible for getting Wojo in trouble or embarrassing him, but it was obvious Wojo was about to get caught no matter what, and it was even more obvious that Wojo didn’t want to stop.
Wojo didn’t notice himself slowly losing control or making it obvious he was doing something secretive. He pounded away, and leaned his head back. He let out a moan, which wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the shower water, but the nearest couple of space marines could see him moving.
“What are you doing, Wojo?”
“Are you beating your meat?”
They rushed forward to see — masturbating in the ship shower was a Fairlight Tulip, which was yellow, and was a tattoo that almost all of them proudly had over their heart (Wojo was an exception because he had always been relatively discrete). They laughed and cheered. Even though nearly every one of them had been “caught” previously, they still loved doing it and carrying a compatriot’s naked body to the tattoist.
Wojo realized he was about to be caught. That was going to be annoying, but he wasn’t going to blue-ball himself — there was nothing to be done about it now.
So he plowed deeply into Avery, slamming into him and even hitting him against the wall of the shower. The other marines were quiet for a moment, trying to figure out who he was, then they began to laugh.
“Ah, fuck! Wojo’s a booty bandit’!”
“He gonna get a pink tulip!”
The others laughed and tried to think of any other tulips that might apply to the situation.
Wojo blushed, but he was beyond trying to stop it right now. He was just glad he didn’t have to subdue himself; he could plow back and forth with all his might and with all the passion that flowed through him. He rammed his dick all the way into Avery and held on as his orgasm overwhelmed him. Avery came too, and his ass clenched on Wojo’s dick.
Thick, creamy cum coated Avery’s ass and dripped down to his legs. It filled him up, great jet after jet of warmth seeping into his flesh and flowing through every corner of his body. Avery shot his own wad onto the shower floor.
Avery moaned, but the sound was weak and thready compared to Wojo’s baritone roar — he figured that the least he could do at this point was sound like a real hardcore alpha when he came. The other space marines cheered and clapped, though they teased him at the same time.
“Oh shit, Wojo’s gone to the pink side!”
“What would Commander Darius say?”
One of them imitated Commander Darius’ stuffed-shirt voice. “Now see here, Mr. Wojohowitz, you represent the Space Marine Corps out there-” They howled with laughter. “And you had better have the common courtesy to give that man a reacharound.”
“Of course!” Wojo said, his voice breaking. He pounded on his chest with one fist, while his other hand reached around. He gulped — he never thought he’d be touching another man’s cock, but he knew this would be funny — and touched Avery’s dick. He gagged at the feel of snotty cum on his fingers, since Avery was mid-orgasm at the moment.
“Goddamn…” Avery’s whole body bucked. He was breathless and exhausted, his whole face turning ruddy.
Wojo’s squadmates laughed so hard they fell over each other’s naked, soaped up bodies. Wojo kept ramming though, and he even touched Avery’s dick again. It spasmed in his touch.
Avery could do little more than twist and writhe. Wojo’s dick was right on his prostate, and Avery’s orgasm continued at full intensity until he at least slid off Wojo and landed in the pool of shower water on the ground.
Wojo stood there, making sure his laughing compatriots could see that he wasn’t embarrassed — and that he had a huge cock, he always made sure they could see that. Of course, he was embarrassed, but he thought he had hidden it pretty well.
He looked down at Avery. “Thanks,” he said.
“Sorry you got caught,” Avery said. He struggled onto his knees, kneeling next to Wojo so he could wrap his arms around his body and lean his face against his thigh.
Wojo shrugged. “Whatever. It was worth it. Are you gonna stick around?”
“No,” Avery said. He stood and stretched his legs. He kissed each of Wojo’s nipples. He would have kissed him on the neck too, but he couldn’t reach. Avery smiled. “It’s time for me to move on, I think.”

Boot Camp

Sgt. Powers is a no-nonsense drill sergeant who tolerates a bit of nonsense: horseplay! He doesn’t mind his cadets dipping into the down and dirty, especially if it means he gets to bend a soldier over and give him what-for!

Can he keep control over his squad of alpha male recruits?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Drill Sergeant Powers stood behind the barracks, peering into the window. He stood on the air conditioner so he could see in the high window to the showering area in the back of the barracks. He smiled as he watched Cadet Willie Redman sit on Nathaniel Muckham’s face.
Two dozen of the heftiest, most athletic cadets in the Army were in those barracks, and Powers watched them shower. He could have gone in there, but then they would have stopped and he couldn’t watch any more. He liked to watch the hijinks.
Redman’s shower-glistening body was broadly muscled, and every one of those muscles seemed to be in use as he squatted over Muckham’s face. It wasn’t a rimjob, of course. Muckham had a bet, so he allowed Redman to sit on his face, as the others chanted and cheered. It was only for a moment. Had he farted on his face? Maybe, but Powers didn’t think so. He could hear them laughing as Muckham blushed and clawed at his own cheeks.
Then they all started dancing and Powers was confused — a sudden dance party? Was this a Japanese game show?
But then he heard a pounding techno beat. That seemed to be A Thing, which he didn’t understand because he was too old — every once in a while, this generation of cadets put on electronic music and they all danced like club kids. It wouldn’t have been strange if they actually enjoyed that kind of music, but not a single one of them actually chose to listen to it in any other context.
Powers didn’t understand the younger generations.
They danced together for about a minute, stopping only when someone slapped Cadet Haruto Amasuzi’s ass. It soon degenerated into a torrent of laughter and horseplay — they treated each other like strippers, slapping each other’s ass and jiggling their buttcheeks in front of each other’s faces.
Drill Sergeant Powers began masturbating. He was just inches from those plump asses — inches that included the wall of the showerhouse — and he could even taste the soapy shower water as it covered their taut skin.
These were not any random collection of Army recruits. They had been chosen to be on the US Army wrestling team. They were given a shared barrack and Powers was put in charge of their training, all because the Army was tired of losing to the Navy in wrestling.
It was Powers’s job to turn them into champion wrestlers, and hopefully soldiers as well.
Inside the barracks, the horseplay had turned into a game called Boner Loses. They didn’t invent it, it had been passed down from an earlier group of cadets. Drill Sergeant Powers had even played a very similar game back when he was a new recruit, which felt like it was eons ago. Powers was glad that Cadet Redman was going to play this game now, because he really hoped to watch Redman lose.
Willie Redman frantically tried to come up with way to get out of it, but he came up with nothing. Everyone expected him to do it, and Willie wasn’t willing to violate their expectations like that — they were his expectations too. That’s because Willie saw himself as more sexually experienced than anyone else here. He had had sex with nine girls, more than anyone else in his barracks. He had had sex with two women at once. He had had sex with an older woman.
So he thought he was well-suited to win Boner Loses. That was a game wherein the player (Willie) stood still while another player (usually someone who had lost a bet, in this case Haruto Amasuzi) had to put his dick in his mouth.
“Do it!”
“Oh, nasty, he’s really doing it!”
“You can lick it if you want, Haruto!”
Haruto just kneeled and winced and gagged before letting Willie’s limp dick flop onto his tongue. Haruto gagged again as he felt wiry pubic hair rub against his cheek and his tongue.
The object of the game was not to get hard. If Willie got an erection, he was required to lick Haruto’s dick. That was it, that was the whole game, just don’t get a boner. When the older cadets had first explained it to Willie, he thought it was beyond stupid. He thought no one would ever play that “game”.
But the others had done it. Willie didn’t want to be the only one who was too prudish to join in. So he never told anyone he disliked it, and he even pretended he was always trying to get others to play it (that was virtually part of the game: no one ever wanted to play it, but it was fun to cajole others into playing it).
Since he was not an undersexed hornball like these other soldiers, Willie thought he would be alright. He wasn’t going to get hard for no reason. So he was alarmed to feel Haruto’s mouth silkily encircle his dick as Willie’s whole body twitched. He couldn’t pull away or stop, he could do nothing but watch as his dick firmed up in Haruto’s mouth. He watched it happen in slow-motion, like some horrible scene in a terrifying movie.
“Ah, shit, Willie lost!”
“On your knees, boy!”
Willie sighed and blushed. He knew the best way to avoid being humiliated was to simply pretend it wasn’t a big deal, so that was what he did. He rolled his eyes and dropped to his knees. He was much taller than Haruto, so he had to stoop to reach his crotch.
This wasn’t the first time this game had degenerated into dome. Willie never thought it would be him that did it. He didn’t want to be a wuss who refused to follow through. No one still made fun of Martin, who had been the first to lose this game.
So he opened his mouth and swallowed Haruto’s dick, gagging again — Haruto had taken a dick in his mouth a few weeks ago when he was on the other side of this game. T
It seemed so silly, Martin thought as he closed his eyes. Haruto’s cock stiffened up, and it jabbed down his throat. The taste of salty, musty dickmeat flooded his senses. He tried to think about anything other than that taste and the jeers and laughter of the cadets surrounding him.
When he was in college in an ROTC program before joining the Army, Willie had been the most popular guy on campus. He was the most athletic man anyone knew. That was why he had been recruited for the Army wrestling team. He was a state champion wrestler back in Pennsylvania.
So it had been difficult for him to accept that he was no longer the top athlete around. He was one of many athletes, and the officers of the US Army were strict in an entirely different way than any of his coaches had ever been. He did not like that he wasn’t in charge of hazing like he had been in college. He was one of many men here, each of them equally “in charge” most of the time.
It had been difficult to accept. So Willie struggled with his pride as he licked his compatriot’s dick. At first he thought he could just get it over with, it wouldn’t be a big deal unless he made it a big deal — he used to get freshmen to lick his balls when he was working out, so he was all sweaty, so he’d be a hypocrite if he regarded it as beyond the pale for him to be hazed similarly. It was just difficult to accept.
Willie’s face turned red, and his wrestling-toned chest was ruddy, sticky with the spit that dripped from his square chin. He was surprised at how much saliva he produced — girls didn’t normally, unless he could encourage them to, but he wasn’t trying to do this. Somehow he made loud gurgling sounds which would have been embarrassing except that his barrackmates howled peals of laughter that drowned out the sound.
Outside, Drill Sergeant Powers masturbated furiously.
He fully intended to get into Cadet Willie Redman’s ass eventually, and he could stand here and watch those cheeks jiggle all night long. He inhaled deeply of the musky scent that emanated out of the barracks, which was enough to send him over the line into orgasm.
Cum sprayed onto the air conditioner he stood on, while Powers watched Willie swallow Amasuzi’s load. Cadet Haruto Amasuzi bellowed and barked and pounded on his chest, moaning more passionately than he probably needed to — he exaggerated to humiliate Willie more.
“He’s swallowin’ it!”
“How’s that cum taste, man?!”
Sour, salty cum sprayed into Willie’s mouth, coating his tongue in thick, sticky spooge. Willie gagged once again, though the most compelling fact he noticed was that cum didn’t really taste bad, or at least, not worse than vagina. He allowed that sticky fluid to flow down his throat.
As soon as Amasuzi let go of his head, Willie pulled off and winced. Everyone laughed and clasped him on the shoulder.
“Didja like that, Willie?”
Willie blushed. He stood up straight, making certain everyone could see that he held his head high. For a brief second, he thought he saw his drill sergeant’s face in the window, but then it was gone. Willie was glad. He’d have been humiliated if he knew Powers had seen him.
He was just glad the game was over. After that they showered and changed to go out on leave. This was the first night of leave they’d had in weeks, so Willie and all the others looked forward to it. Boot camp was almost over.
They headed out, all but two of the cadets: William Morton and Tommy Draper. Powers told the two of them to suit up for some wrestling practice. They dourly did so. Those two did not have leave because they were in the doghouse.
The practice proceeded quickly, as it wasn’t a real practice, Sergeant Powers simply wanted the cadets to begin with something easy. They were both good wrestlers. He had them scrimmages, and he cheered them both on.
“Go for it, Morton!” Powers clapped and barked. “You got it, Tommy!”
The scrimmage proceeded as he had thought. He knew Morton would lose. He simply wasn’t as good. He was stronger than Cadet Tommy Draper, but he was slower and not as smart or tactical. Of course Tommy won.
“Alright, alright, you two go shower up,” Powers said. He was glad the practice was finally over. He slapped them both on the ass through their sweat-soaked singlets, and he took the opportunity to savor both meaty asses.
Everyone but these two was out on leave. Powers had been forced to take away Draper’s and Morton’s leave because they failed this silly test about sexual assault and racial tolerance. It wasn’t even a real failure, they simply hadn’t taken it seriously. They thought it was more like a survey, and they just filled in the bubbles without reading the questions.
So Powers made them retake the test, and he made sure they took it seriously this time. He didn’t let them continue until they filled out all of the correct answers.
“Good job, boys,” he said when they were done. He had really only wanted Draper to practice — Morton was not likely to make weight in time for the tournament, and he wasn’t very good besides. Powers saw him as a backup. If one of the others was forced to leave the Army, Morton would be a real part of the team.
A big part of the problem was that Morton was so handsome and charming. He had no need to be good at anything because he got laid plenty — he had no need to change. Girls thought he was hot and didn’t care how good he actually was at wrestling. Morton smiled a lot and had plenty of friends, so he seemed only dimly aware of the fact that he simply wasn’t very good.
But Morton wasn’t smiling today, as he walked away towards the barracks alongside Tommy. He wished he had had his leave taken away with literally anyone besides Tommy. Morton felt nervous — he often got the feeling Drill Sergeant Powers watched his ass shake in those tiny green Army shorts. Today Powers had slapped his ass and held on for a few seconds, but even after that, Morton could feel someone staring at his ass. When he turned around, Powers was gone.
It was going to be a long night in for the both of them, made worse by the fact that Morton was gonna have to take it up the ass from his buddy Tommy. Morton had lost a bet.
“Gonna ram you in the a-a-a-sssssss…” Draper sang a little, laughing when he saw Morton blush. “Come on, let’s get it out of the way.”
“Fine.” Morton bit his lip.
During their last leave, they had both been horny. They spent the entire day talking about how horny they were and how much they were going to get laid. Then they made a bet — Morton always did so well with girls he assumed he would get laid. He promised he would, and he said that if he didn’t, he’d let Draper ram him in the ass. Draper made the same bet. Morton assumed Draper would fail and he would succeed, but the opposite had happened.
So now, this weekend, Morton had to give up the ass.
The barracks was empty, but it still stank of men and stale underwear. Morton wished they could do it somewhere else, but this was the only spot on the whole base where they could be sure Drill Sergeant Powers wasn’t around. That man somehow seemed to be everywhere, Morton thought.
Tommy Draper spat on his cock for lube. He was almost as nervous as Morton, but he hid it well. He laughed and slapped Morton’s ass, cheering when those cheeks rippled. It really was a nice ass, he thought, if only it was attached to a woman.
He slid his dick in, grimacing when he felt it enter Morton’s tight asshole. Morton grunted and immediately clenched.
Neither of them moved. “Damn it,” Morton said with a grunt. His face turned red as Draper began drilling his dick in farther and farther. “Ah, oh, shit…” Morton’s voice was weak and thready.
“Damn… Oh, shit…” Tommy said more or less the same word, but his had an entirely different tone. He was shocked at how good this felt. He had thought ramming a man in the ass would be worse than a girl, or at best maybe the same so long as he didn’t feel any hair or accidentally grab for where her tits would be. But it was actually far better.
He didn’t know if it was better because Morton was intact (presumably) or because he was simply better, or maybe because Tommy didn’t need to worry about making his bottom enjoy it. He didn’t need to make Morton feel good, so he could focus on slamming away at that tight wrestler ass.
Morton kept squirming, and he clawed at the bunk beneath him. The most embarrassing part, he thought, was that it wasn’t entirely painful — he felt pleasure too. It happened very slowly, growing with every thrust of Tommy’s cock inside him.
Vague and distant at first, overpowered by the pain, Morton’s prostate orgasm grew more potent over time. Soon he was moaning and grunting with bliss, not agony, though he avoided making that obvious so Tommy wouldn’t know. The one way, he thought, that would ensure he was teased for this forever was to enjoy it.
But he had to admit there was a certain amount of pleasure that came with it. He moaned and bucked and writhed beneath Tommy’s body.
Just like the pleasure in Morton’s ass, Tommy’s own passion had grown slowly over time. At first he tried to avoid touching Morton any more than absolutely necessary. But the more excited he got by this, the more he pounded away, and the more he actually touched Morton.
Soon, Tommy’s hands gripped his back, trying to pretend his muscled shoulders were a female’s. Tommy closed his eyes. He lowered his chest until he pressed down on Morton’s body, ramming him wildly, grunting and moaning into his ear.
“Oh, fuck…” Morton moaned, and the tremulous note to his voice made it clear he was enjoying himself.
Only Powers was able to detect that though. Tommy was too engrossed in his powerful plowing. Powers shot his wad onto the outside wall of the barracks, just as he caught his first whiff of cum from the soldiers.
Morton did shoot his own load onto the bunk beneath him, but he managed to avoid being obvious about it, so Tommy didn’t notice that either. Tommy slammed into Morton until his balls crawled up in his sac, and he shot a thick load that coated Morton’s insides.
“Ah, shit yeah, take it, man!” Tommy closed his eyes and moaned. He sprayed the biggest wad of his life, and it spread within Morton. Tommy loved cumming inside girls, and he was surprised to see that he loved cumming inside boys just as much. He could have stayed like that forever, feeling victorious once again and dominating Morton’s powerful body.
At last he was done. Tommy pulled out, slapped Morton’s ass once and laughed as he squirmed. Morton groaned loudly.
“Shit,” Morton said. He breathed heavily. He hoped Willie didn’t notice that he had cum too. “That hurt.”
Tommy snorted like a cocky bastard. “Of course it hurt.” He grabbed his dick. “That’s cuz I got huge meat.” He paused. “It ain’t feel good too, did it?”
Morton blushed and protested a little too vociferously. “No! No, man, that was terrible. The worst. I ain’t enjoy that at all.”
They both headed back to the barracks then. Drill Sergeant Powers had disappeared at some point. Morton didn’t notice where he went. But as he passed by his office, he saw him in his office, with a cadet named Wojohowitz, who looked like he was in trouble. Morton hurried pst.
Cadet Wojohowitz was the best wrestler in the unit, so Powers didn’t want to kick him out. As he stood there, watching Wojohowitz’s nearly-naked body take the news, Powers’s heart broke.
Wojohowitz was young and thick-bodied, a star heavyweight wrestler. He was honestly not the best soldier, just the best wrestler, but as far as Powers’s superiors were concerned, wrestling was more important anyway.
Wojohowitz quiveringly said it was his girl, that she had smoked a joint and he hadn’t taken a hit but he had inhaled some. Powers believed him, but he didn’t have any control over this rule: A failed drug test means the soldier must go.
“Sir, I swear, I didn’t smoke any of it. I don’t have a drug problem, sir.”
Powers flared his nostrils. “Don’t beg, cadet. You’ll be okay-“
“I — I’ve been looking forward to the Army for so long.” He stood there in his boxers, his muscles rippling. “Uh… Sir… My dad said, uh… back when he was in the Army… he said that, like, if you was really regretful ‘bout something, like… your drill sergeant was, y’know… you could get a second chance if you was willing to… like… y’know-“
“Cadet, what in the bloody hell are you talking about?”
“My dad said… you could ram… you know, that I could give up the ass, and you’d, y’know, see that as a sign that I’m in the for the long haul, that I’m willing to do what it takes to stay,” Wojohowitz said. “I swear, I won’t let girls smoke weed around me. I won’t even go to any concerts. I promise.”
“You’ll give up the booty if I give you a second chance?”
Wojohowitz nodded.
Powers pretended to think about it. He had been waiting for an opportunity to get in Cadet Wojohowitz’s plump ass. It was going to be so tight Powers was already drooling. But Powers pretended to be reluctant. “I don’t know, cadet… Look… In my day, a man could ram another man in the ass as long as he had the common courtesy of giving a reacharound,” he said. He sighed grandly; he hoped he didn’t sound too eager. “So bend over, cadet.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Wojohowitz said. His voice broke a little as he knelt over his own bunk, sticking his ass in the air. He thought he could do this. No one would ever know, he thought, since he was pretty sure Sergeant Powers wouldn’t tell anyone.
Powers sighed. He had been waiting to get in this ass for a long time. Wojohowitz’s ass was so thick and juicy he couldn’t resist. Powers had a plan to make the drug test go away. He could claim to his superiors that the lab had suggested it might be a false positive. That could happen — they had said that with a result two months ago, they said they needed another sample to be sure because this one was weakly positive (the second sample turned out to be negative). He could put off the replacement drug test for a month to make sure Wojohowitz could clean himself up, or maybe Powers could just supply his own piss instead.
Regardless, he could do it. It was worth it to get in that tight ass. He moaned as his cock slid in, and Wojohowitz’s muscles all twitched. He had that cocky alpha strut, which Powers loved to ram out of a soldier. He smiled when he saw Wojohowitz’s toes curl — Powers knew what that meant: pleasure. Somewhere deep within Wojohowitz, his prostate was coming alive and making him feel such pleasure he couldn’t even acknowledge it yet.
Powers slammed the rest of his cock in, sliding his coarsely-furred forearm in front of Wojohowitz’s mouth. Wojohowitz bucked and grunted — he would have shouted but the sensations inside him were too intense.
“You can bite down on my arm,” Powers said. His left arm was in place for Wojohowitz to bite on — which he did, biting hard enough to make Powers’s arm cry out in pain; he didn’t stop though because Powers always liked feeling just a little pain while he rammed. It made it better.
“Sir, yes, sir,” Wojohowitz said. He was surprised at how much it helped to bite down. It was a good distraction from the pain. He gnawed on the firm muscle of his sergeant’s arm.
And then Wojohowitz realized the pain was going away anyway. That’s because Sergeant Powers reached out and grabbed Wojohowitz’s dick. He stroked it, gently and slowly at first. Wojohowitz moaned and found himself licking the salty-sweat off his drill sergeant’s forearm.
He blushed, not that anyone could see it. Wojohowitz was shocked and humiliated at how easily he got hard with a dick in his ass. It felt impossibly big. He wondered how big it really was. Was Sergeant Powers’s cock bigger than his?
But he couldn’t have asked right now even if he was willing to, because the feelings that rocked his body were too intense. Sergeant Powers’s muscled, hairy chest pressed down on Redman’s smooth back. Wojohowitz grimaced a little, as he wasn’t used to feeling a man’s chest muscles rippling over his skin. Sergeant Powers had that distinct “old man texture”, he thought, not wrinkled but well-worn, his skin coarse in parts, his chest hairy and stinky with sweat.
But even despite all that, Wojohowitz had never been more aroused. He gasped and groaned, rubbing his face against Drill Sergeant’s forearm. He bit down hard enough to taste blood.
Powers didn’t notice that. He was singularly focused on his cock, which rammed into Wojohowitz’s intact ass and stayed there as he came. His balls crawled up in his sac and he filled Wojohowitz with his creamy seed.
“You ready, son?”
“Sir, yes, yes,” Wojohowitz said, his normally confident voice now weak and wavery. He wasn’t scared though, because he trusted his drill sergeant implicitly. He knew this would all be okay. When it was over, he’d be able to pretend that he hadn’t been rammed by a man and, even more importantly, that he hadn’t liked it.
He shot his own load onto the floor beneath himself, coating Powers’s hand as his reacharound continued. Despite it being just a handjob and despite the limpening cock in his own ass, Wojohowitz experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life.
He writhed beneath his drill sergeant’s firm embrace, and his asshole squeezed around his dick. Both men grunted, their mouths so close together they nearly kissed. Pleasure coursed through both men’s veins.
But then it was over. Drill Sergeant Powers stood, and they both sighed together when his dick finally plopped out. Cadet Wojohowitz twitched.
“At attention, cadet.”
Wojohowitz’s knees were weak, and his cheeks were red. But he managed to stand on uncertain legs. His cock dangled, still dripping cum onto the floor. Sergeant Powers grabbed it and squeezed.
“Good work, cadet,” he said. “You’ve proven your dedication to the Army.”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Cadet Wojohowitz had never responded with such confidence and swagger. He didn’t know why, he just suddenly felt better than he had in a long time, even if his ass was still sore. “I’m glad I don’t have to leave the service, sir. I want to serve the Army for as long as I can.”
Powers stood up, dick dangling and dripping fluids onto the barrack floor. “Son, you’ll be able to serve the Army for life.” He walked away with a proud grin on his face.

Yes Drill Sergeant!

Private Nathaniel Muckham is in trouble again, writing checks his ass is gonna have to back! That’s cuz his cruel drill sergeant is the legendary Drill Sergeant Manstrong Powers, who’s been known to make his cadets bend over and take it!

Can Private Muckham handle the punishment Sgt. Powers is ready to dish out?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here

Nathaniel started quaking in his boots as soon as he saw Sergeant Powers. That was because Nathaniel had snuck out of the barracks at Fort Rumblemore today to fuck with this slut who had been begging for his cock. He didn’t have any leave, so he was technically AWOL for a couple hours.
But Nathaniel had made it back on base without getting caught. He and the other soldiers in his unit talked and played cards most of the night, and Nathaniel had slyly refused to tell them what he did while teasing them about it. Eventually he had had no choice but to let it slip.
But there was no way his squadmates would have ratted him out. Even if they had wanted to, nobody left the barracks. There was no time for anyone to have squealed to Drill Sergeant Powers.
Now it was past dawn, and everyone was putting their shorts on to get ready for the early morning routine.
Judging from the sweat that clung to his burly body, Sergeant Powers had already begun his morning run. His middle-aged body was craggy and weathered but packed with powerful muscles. Was Sergeant Powers here to yell at Nathaniel? He couldn’t imagine how he would know what had happened last night.
But when Powers stepped in and bellowed, “Atten-tion!”, Nathaniel knew that he had been caught. Powers stared right at Nathaniel, who snapped to his feet and saluted in sync with the other soldiers in the barracks. He wore only thin white briefs, which made him feel naked and vulnerable — if he had known Sergeant Powers was going to come into the barracks, he’d have worn shorts. He didn’t usually come into the barracks this early in the morning though.
Nathaniel had always been the biggest, toughest guy around, but now that he was in the Army, there was always someone stronger and larger not that far away. It had been humbling for him.
Sergeant Powers was one of those men who put Nathaniel to shame. Sergeant Powers was so big he had to send away for Army boots and pants that fit him. He stooped to get into the barracks. The sweat-stained green t-shirt he wore bulged against his muscles like it was too small for him.
He came close to Nathaniel, then came even closer, until they were foot to foot and nose to nose. “Some of you think that this place is like a resort, where you can come and go whenevuh you want,” Sergeant Powers said. He snorted and grabbed his nuts through his boxer shorts. When he moved his hand away, his limp, greasy cock flopped out through the fly.
Everyone else in the barracks gasped. It was impossible that Sergeant Powers didn’t realize what had happened, but he either did it deliberately or decided to roll with it. Nathaniel was shocked by how big it was. He had always kind of assumed that not every part of Sergeant Powers could be gigantic, that the rumors about his cock couldn’t be true. He just hoped the other rumors weren’t true either.
Sergeant Powers was sometimes called — not to his face — Sergeant Sodomy, because he was rumored to ramrod soldiers under his command. Supposedly a private had awoken to Powers fucking him one night, and he ended up needing stitches in his rectum and had to be discharged from the Army because he couldn’t march straight. Nathaniel had never believed those stories, but now he wasn’t so sure.
He gulped. Sergeant Powers screwed up his eyes right in front of him, so close they were practically kissing. He had been talking, but Nathaniel was entranced by that swinging cock. He didn’t know what Sergeant Powers had said.
“Huh? Private Muckham?” Sergeant Powers leaned in close, his toothpaste-scented breath condensing on Nathaniel’s face. It was hot and minty, an odd combination, and it made Nathaniel wrinkle his nose.
Then his massive hand cupped Nathaniel’s cock and balls through his boxers. The other soldiers gasped again, and Nathaniel’s knees went weak. He expected pain, assuming that Powers was going to squeeze his sac, but he didn’t. He just cradled Nathaniel’s genitals gently — but firmly — with one of his big, meaty hands.
“Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. He tried to sound confident.
“Did you hear the question I asked you, Private Shitface?”
“Sir… No. I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. Some of his fellow soldiers snickered.
“I ain’t think so. I asked you a question. I’m gonna pretend you was listenin’ to me and you answered me truthfully, Shitface,” Sergeant Powers said. “That okay with you?” His hands played with Nathaniel’s balls through the thin fabric of the Army-issue briefs he wore.
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Do you want me to tell the MPs what ya answer was, Private Shitface?”
“Uh… Sir… I don’t know, uh-“
Now he squeezed. He darted his hand beneath the waistband of Nathaniel’s underwear, gripped his cock and balls hard and squeezed, just hard enough to make Nathaniel wince and flash with pain. His knees buckled and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Now everyone gasped. Nathaniel even heard whispering — they were all attention, so that wasn’t allowed — and the term Sergeant Sodomy came out of someone’s mouth. Nathaniel prayed that wasn’t what was going to happen. Nathaniel hadn’t even missed any assignments or duties. It wasn’t a big deal, Nathaniel thought, he’d probably have kitchen duty for a few weeks. He didn’t even hate kitchen duty like most of the other soldiers — Nathaniel had grown up working in his parents’ restaurant, so peeling potatoes reminded him of home.
“Why not? If you happy wit’ me choosing the truthful answer, you should be okay with the military police findin’ out. That’s just logic, ain’t it?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Nathaniel said. He knew from dealing with Sergeant Powers in the past that it would be better for him to just admit it now. “Sir… I’m sorry. I snuck off-base last night. I shouldn’t have. It was just, there was a girl…”
“A girl?” Sergeant Powers said with a grin. “Why ain’t you say so? A girl. That makes anything okay, Private Shitface.” He took his hand off Nathaniel’s sweaty balls, then held it beneath Nathaniel’s nose. It smelled like stanky cockmeat, and Nathaniel wrinkled his nose. “Suck my hand clean, Private Shitface.”
“Ah shit, he’s doin’ it…”
“I told ya!”
The whispering seemed so loud now, Nathaniel couldn’t imagine why Sergeant Powers wasn’t yelling at them to get back at attention. But his dark, craggy face remained aimed directly at Nathaniel’s face, so close the tips of their noses glancingly touched. After a moment’s hesitation, Nathaniel did as he was told. Sergeant Powers slowly made him suck on all five fingers, and then Nathaniel licked his rough-skinned palm. He gagged at the salty flavor and callused texture of Sergeant Powers’s middle-aged man-flesh.
He thought that would be it. He just took Sergeant Powers’s finger in his mouth, gagged loudly and endured giggling from the other soldiers.
But it didn’t end there.
When Sergeant Powers took his hand away, Nathaniel’s mouth felt dry and dirty. He wanted to go brush his teeth. He could feel grainy dirt or maybe sweat-salt sticking to his tongue, and it made him gag even when he was done sucking Sergeant Powers’s hand.
“You put this whole unit at risk, Private Shitface.” He paused. “You know what? I’m gonna call you Private Fuckup from now on. That’s more appropriate, ain’t it?”
“Uh… Sir, yes, Drill Sergeant, sir, if you think so,” Nathaniel said.
“That’s appropriate cuz I’m gonna fuck you up, private,” Sergeant Powers said. He laughed when the others gasped and Nathaniel went white as a sheet. Sergeant Powers licked Nathaniel’s face from his chin to his forehead. “You taste like pussy. Is that cuz you was eatin’ pussy earlier? Or do you just taste like pussy? Either way, I’m gonna ramrod you.”
“Uh… sir?”
“What? You got a question?” He got up so close to Nathaniel that his massive cock pressed against Nathaniel’s bare thigh. Was it already hard? Nathaniel sure hoped so. It felt a little fleshy, but he couldn’t imagine it would get bigger. It was at least twelve inches long, he thought, maybe more. Nathaniel felt its veiny shaft pulsating against his well-muscled thigh.
“Get down on your knees,” he said with a sneer.
“Holy shit, do we have to watch this?”
“Private Muckham’s about to become Private Punk-’em.”
Nathaniel slid down to the ground amid snorts of muffled laughter. He looked around as though his fellow squadmates might rescue him, but they all stood at attention, trying to avoid looking at Nathaniel.
Then Sergeant Powers flopped his limp cock onto Nathaniel’s face.
Instantly Nathaniel gagged. It smelled so bad he thought something was wrong. A part of his mind recognized that it just smelled like a nasty pussy — which he had gotten drunk and licked before. By its nature penis smelled like vagina, and the only reason Sergeant Powers’s smelled bad was that he had just run two miles and spent an hour lifting weights. Nathaniel would later be told that Sergeant Powers always did that — that was why he hadn’t confronted Nathaniel in the coolness of night, he wanted to be sweaty and nasty when he attemptd at Nathaniel. His cock was jiggly and fatty, and it roped limply over Nathaniel’s face.
“How much do you think you can swallow, Private Fuckup?”
“Uh… sir?”
“Point on my dick. How deep do you think you can take it?”
“I, uh… I dunno, sir.”
“Well, think about it, idiot. Make a fucking prediction,” Sergeant Powers said. He slapped Nathaniel’s face with his cock, and a fresh burst of sweaty smell assaulted Nathaniel’s senses.
That is definitely not erect, that’s how big it is soft, Nathaniel thought and wanted to cry. It wasn’t totally limp either, but it slapped over his face like an uncooked sausage. There is no way anyone takes that whole cock in their throat or their ass, he told himself over and over. Impossible. It left behind a layer of grease and cock-scent on his face, which made him gag.
Blushing at the sound of his fellow squadmates laughing until Sergeant Powers shot them a harsh glare, Nathaniel pointed to a random spot, about a third of the way down the shaft. “There. Sir. I uh… I can swallow to there.”
“There, huh? That ain’t bad,” Sergeant Powers said. He let out an exaggerated moan as he guided Nathaniel’s pointing finger into a circle, which he then wrapped around his cock. Nathaniel gagged again at that fleshy feel.
Nathaniel’s hand remained still, and Sergeant Powers bucked his hips back and forth, giving himself a handjob with Nathaniel’s grip. He took off his shirt to reveal his powerful chest and faded tattoos. He was so tall that crouched-down Nathaniel’s head was beneath his crotch, and Sergeant Powers had to bend his knees to massage Nathaniel’s cheeks.
“Ah damn, sorry Nathaniel…”
He pried Nathaniel’s jaws apart. Nathaniel didn’t mean to resist, he just couldn’t help himself. His chin trembled A few tears trickled down his cheek. He wouldn’t have snuck out if he knew this would be the punishment. It wasn’t fair, he thought.
His mind stopped worrying moments later because potent saltiness invaded his senses, so strong he gagged and his eyes watered. It was just the tip of Sergeant Powers’s cock, and it was salty because he was sweaty from his night-time jog around the base.
“There he goes!”
“Oh shit, I ain’t think he’d really do it.”
Sergeant Powers sighed as he bucked his hips, pushing his dick in deeper. Nathaniel couldn’t stop gagging, even though he was aware it just made this feel even better for Sergeant Powers, whose dick perked up in his mouth.
People had been making “don’t go to prison” jokes since he was young on account of Nathaniel’s big mouth. He never gave it much thought until today. Most men wouldn’t have been able to do anything more than tease the tip of Sergeant Powers’s throbbing cock. But Nathaniel got the entire head in his mouth, and that firm shaft invaded his throat.
The smell was so intense Nathaniel wanted to vomit. He probably would have thrown up if his throat wasn’t plugged up by a rod of military meat leaking precum down his gullet.
“I ain’t never said at ease, boys!” Sergeant Powers bellowed. A few soldiers had crept out of line to watch, and a few others covered their eyes like they couldn’t bear to see it. They all jumped back in position, arms pointed downward at their side. “You too, Private Fuckup,” Sergeant Powers said. “On your knees but at attention. Keep your hands down.”
His hands had been flailing uselessly — Nathaniel wanted to push Sergeant Powers away, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to touch any part of Powers’s muscles. He had to force his hands to his side. He straightened his back, trying not to gag with every thrust of Sergeant Powers’s cock into his throat.
He was surprised at how physically easy it was — Nathaniel had thought swallowing cock required effort and concentration. But all he actually had to do was not fight back. That wasn’t easy for him mentally, but when he managed to loosen his throat, Powers’s dick slid most of the way down it. His balls swayed against Nathaniel’s chin.
It was, however, difficult for Nathaniel to accept without panic. It felt like he was being torn up from the inside out. He wanted to vomit but couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe or speak or cough or do anything but taste the sweat and precum trickling into his mouth. He was dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“You doin’ better than you predicted,” Sergeant Powers said. “But I don’t accept nothin’ less than perfect.” He wrapped his fingers over Nathaniel’s scalp and held his head in place.
Nathaniel cried out for air as he choked. He couldn’t help himself from sobbing as he sputtered on the cock invading his throat. Sergeant Powers used his other hand to pinch Nathaniel’s nostrils shut, which opened his throat wide enough that every inch of Sergeant Powers’s cock fit down there. His balls swung and thwacked against Nathaniel’s chin.
“Listen to that sound. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. “
“I know, yeah, Nathaniel swallows dick like a fuckin’ champion. I ain’t know he was talented like that.”
“He got that big mouth…”
“Now stand up and bend over,” Sergeant Powers said. He grimaced like he didn’t want to do this, while the other soldiers snickered nervously.
He pulled out and Nathaniel was overcome by dizziness. He toppled over as he tried to stand. Great gobs of saliva and stomach bile spilled out of Nathaniel’s throat. The only reason he didn’t vomit was that he hadn’t eaten since early the previous evening — he would have been hungry except that he was nauseous and full of precum — so Nathaniel dry-heaved as he tried to stand. Then Sergeant Powers grabbed him by the shoulders and bent him over the bed. Nathaniel retched and fell limp onto his own bunk.
“Stick your ass up,” he barked.
Nathaniel moaned as he did so. His asshole twinkled in anticipation. His mind raced, unable to consider what was about to happen because he still heaved for breath.
“Beg me for it, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir, please… No…”
“What was that?!”
“I mean… yes. Please, uh…”
“Cornhole me. Say it.”
“Cornhole me. Please cornhole me, Sergeant…” Nathaniel’s entire body cringed. He hated showing obedience to anyone, and he especially hated himself for begging to be fucked. Being held down and cornholed was one thing, but Nathaniel was literally begging for it. He would never be able to admit that this happened, he thought, he’d be forever in denial about it — could he even continue working alongside all these witnesses? He felt like he might not be able to. If they teased him about it, he’d hit them. What if he got sent to military prison? They had a hundred Sergeant Sodomys there, he thought, sobbing into his bunk.
Then pain exploded in his ass. Nathaniel screamed and hyperventilated. He stuck his head up high in the air, tears streaming down his cheek. His face was bright red, and his entire body clenched.
Sergeant Powers took his boxers and filled Nathaniel’s mouth with them. He held onto the edges and used them like a bridle, guiding Nathaniel as he tried to crawl away.
“Please, sir…”
“More? You want more? Is that what you’re asking, Private Fuckup? Speak up!” He ground his hips to squeeze more of his cock into Nathaniel’s tight ass. “Maybe I should call you Private Loose-Asshole. How’s that sound?”
“Sir, whatever you want, sir,” Nathaniel said through gritted teeth, the words barely decipherable through the boxers in his mouth. There must have been pubic hairs clinging to the fabric, Nathaniel thought, because he could feel them tickling his throat.
The radio attached to Sergeant Powers’s clothes flickered into life. Powers, you out on your run? It was so loud that it made Nathaniel jump and his asshole loosen a bit, so another inch or so of cockmeat slid into him. Nathaniel wondered how much was left to take, but he was too scared to turn around and check.
Powers slapped one of Nathaniel’s cheeks. He had to stretch to reach the radio on his shorts and his shirt, and when he moved, his cock twitched inside Nathaniel. Whatever it touched must have been sensitive, because Nathaniel felt like he was being torn in two. He screamed until Powers pushed his face into the mattress of his bunk, muffling the sound.
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said into the radio.
Uh, okay, did you see that note from the duty sergeant last night? About that, uh… Muckham?
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said with a smile. “I saw that note. I’m taking care of it right now.”
There was a nervous chuckle on the other side of the radio. Oh, so right now, you’re… doling out one of your special punishments?
“That’s right.”
Okay. Just so you know, it’s okay to not answer your radio sometimes. I don’t need to hear this.
“Uh, it’s standard procedure, Paul. What if the Canadians chose today to attack? It would be just like them. Wait a minute, Paul, this is the sound of Inch Thirteen.”
From his vantage point, Nathaniel couldn’t see what Sergeant Powers did. But from everyone’s laughter, he gathered that Powers had placed the radio transmitter near Nathaniel’s ass, pressed the button and then pushed the last inch of his cock into Nathaniel’s tearing ass. There was a moist squishing sound, and Nathaniel moaned in agony.
“That’s what a nice big punishment sounds like.”
Sounds delightful, Powers. Remind me to forbid my wife from ever meeting you. Base out.
Sergeant Powers laughed and threw the radio, and his dirty clothes, onto Nathaniel’s pillow. He grabbed Nathaniel’s chin with one hand and placed his other on the small of Nathaniel’s back. “Okay, Private Fuckup, here we go. I’m all the way in. Can you believe that? Most women can’t take all thirteen inches in their pussy, much less their ass. But then most women aren’t shitheaps like you. Anyway, I’m gonna start really plowing now. This is the part that’s gonna hurt the worst. You ready?”
Blinking back tears, Nathaniel nodded. He thought he was supposed to say yes out loud too, but Sergeant Powers didn’t seem to care. He just started pounding.
His dignity disappeared as Nathaniel screamed. Sergeant Powers forced his head up so everyone could see Nathaniel’s tense, weeping face, while keeping his ass low and submissive. He brought all thirteen inches out, leaving just the tip in, then slammed the entire shaft back in.
He groaned with each thrust of his hips, while Nathaniel couldn’t stop screaming. He finally fell silent only when Sergeant Powers laid atop Nathaniel’s back, grinding his dick within Nathaniel’s ass and cackling into Nathaniel’s ear as he squirmed from the pain.
He had no idea how long that lasted. It felt like forever, Nathaniel thought, and he wondered if his asshole was ruined — it felt like it would never be tight again. He tried to crawl away but Sergeant Powers’s hairy, sweat-slickened muscles weighed him down. Nathaniel could feel every ounce of machismo writhing, flexing above his back, breathing heavy into his ear. He cried, not that anyone could hear him over the sound of Sergeant Powers’s frenzied snorts as he rutted inside Nathaniel’s guts.
Nathaniel was so numb in the ass that he didn’t feel Sergeant Powers’s orgasm began. He just realized it was happening when there was a powerful warming sensation inside him, and Sergeant Powers’s muscles all twitched at once.
He sighed as Nathaniel filled up with his seed. Utter humiliation flowed through Nathaniel’s veins. He cringed and tried to bury his face, but Sergeant Powers forced him to remain upright, looking at his squadmates.
It felt like piss, Nathaniel thought. He could feel Sergeant Powers’s dick softening and pulsating as the cum flowed through it, and he shot such a huge load that it kept going, not in wads but in a constant stream.
More and more cum filled him, so much that Nathaniel imagined he could taste it. His skin felt sticky as though he was covered in it from head to toe. It didn’t hurt any less, even when it was done and Powers’s massive cock gradually limpened.
“I’m waiting for you, private.”
“Uh… Wh-Wh-” Nathaniel didn’t know what he was expected to do. All he could think about was the wrenching pain in his ass. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t tell, but it wouldn’t surprise him. He was in too much agony to turn his head and look, and besides that, he didn’t want to see.
“I’ll remove my cock when you ask me to.”
“Please… uh, take, uh… take your… Uh… Take your cock…” Nathaniel twisted and gasped. His face was bright red, eyes alternating between open wide and squeezed shut. He clawed at the sheets beneath him.
“Say it properly, Private Fuckup. Say it in a complete sentence, like a soldier.”
Nathaniel tried to take a deep breath but that caused an outpouring of pain in his ass. He ground his face into the bunk, then grunted and tried to speak. “Uh… Sir! Please… Please remove… your cock… from my ass.”
“Don’t cuss, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir… Please, uh, remove your penis from… my… anus,” Nathaniel said. That made some of the other soldiers laugh quietly, still standing at attention at the foot of their bunks.
“What have you learned from this experience, Private Fuckup?”
“To, uh, not sneak out! I’ll always follow the rules, I swear,” Nathaniel said. He had never been so humiliated. Back in high school, Nathaniel was a rebel and a punk. He would have killed himself rather than beg for a chance to be obedient. But now he couldn’t think about anything but the splitting pain in his asshole.
Sergeant Powers stood. “Atten-tion!” Nathaniel sighed as he felt that cock slide out of him, like he was taking a massive dump. It tingled, hurt and felt good all at once. His asshole was cold as it gaped, exposed to the air.
“I said ‘At Attention’, Private Fuckup!”
The agony was excruciating as Nathaniel forced himself to stand at attention. He felt cum trickling down his legs. His cock had never seemed smaller. His asscheeks were numb but his asshole screamed with agony.
“Private Fuckup, are you satisfied with the rules of this base?”
“Sir, yes, sir. I’ll never sneak off again.” Nathaniel sniffled and held back tears. He struggled to remain upright and at-attention at the foot of his bed.
Sergeant Powers smiled. He flopped his massive, grimy cock between his fingers. Fluids dripped from it and clung to his trunk-like thighs. “I really hope that ain’t true, boy. Cuz you got a nice ass. I’ll be watchin’ you for another reason to wreck it.”

Sgt. Powers (Manstrong Powers)

Sgt. Powers, and he was a ornery sort. He was an eyebrow captain, all eyebrows and lower jaw, weary-looking, kinda ruddy and staying angry! He be strict as a nun.

From Buck on Bottom

Sergeant Powers was so big he had to send away for Army boots and pants that fit him. He stooped to get into the barracks. The sweat-stained green t-shirt he wore bulged against his muscles like it was too small for him. His middle-aged body was craggy and weathered but packed with powerful muscles. Sergeant Powers was sometimes called — not to his face — Sergeant Sodomy, because he was rumored to ramrod soldiers under his command

From Yes Drill Sergeant!

It helped, of course, that Sergeant Powers was a big burly bear of a man, with muscles and a square jaw and so much swagger that Moshe nearly came in his pants the first time he had spied Powers lifting weights shirtless in his backyard. Sergeant Powers was a bit older, with a few tinges of gray in his crewcut, and while he still had the body of a Marine, it showed notable wear and tear.

From The Marine Bottoms

Powers was burly and middle-aged and a bit jowly but with a body to die for, great strapping muscles and thick thighs. This morning he wore a tight tee shirt, Army-green, soaked with sweat until it was nearly translucent. Avery could see the hair coating his chest through the shirt.
And oh god those shorts made Avery’s dick hard. They were ridiculous — the kind of short-shorts that the Army made soldiers wear back in the 50s, when that was normal. They would have made Daisy Duke blush. They showed off Sergeant Powers’s thick thighs and tightly accentuated the pouch of his jockstrap stretching the fabric of the shorts, which pulled them low enough that one of the straps was visible running above his plump old-man ass.

From Reacharound From a Drill Sergeant