featuring twinks – Page 11

The Guido

Avery’s up for another adventure in rough trade, and this time it’s a cocky guido named Joey Rizzoli. He’s got manhood to prove, money to earn and balls to drain…

Can Avery satisfy Joey’s needs?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here

Avery forced himself to exercise. If he didn’t make an effort to move around, he’d burn about fifty calories a day because he could do all his work sitting at a desk. So he occasionally stopped by a Cornerside Gym — he traveled around the country, and Cornerside Gyms were common enough he could usually find one somewhere not too far away from wherever he was.
He was in north New Jersey when he decided to go in for a workout. He had to do it quickly because he hadn’t done any work yet today. But he wanted to do his workout first, so he could finish up before the place filled with overweight divorcées working off their mimosas.
But when he walked in the front door, Avery’s plans changed instantly.
There was a young man there, maybe nineteen years old or so, short and broad-shouldered, wiry-muscled, with a few tattoos dotting his body. He wore a sleeveless shredder — that’s one of those muscle shirts without sleeves or sides, so it was really just a hunk of fabric that covered his chest. He had a fantastic body, short and compact but stunning, six-packed, bulging where it needed to be, smooth and nut-brown.
“Yo, man, whatchoo sayin? I ain’t gotta show no ID, I know that-“
“I’m afraid I’m required to ask for it in this case.”
“Ain’t not a single other motherfucker here that you ask fo’ ID. Nah. That ain’t right.” The young man grunted and his hands formed fists at his side.
“You’ll need to purchase your own membership, sir,” said the clerk, who stammered and blushed.
The guido, Joey, ran his fingers through his dense mane of black hair. He clucked his tongue and feinted like he was going to punch the clerk. “Man, this ain’t ‘bout money.”
“I know you’re not Thomas Molloni,” the clerk said. “Sorry. I don’t care if you share passes. But my boss said we have to put a stop to it. You can buy a year-long membership for only-“
“Man, it ain’t ‘bout the money.” Joey paused. “Ain’t Tommy got some kinda guest passes on his account?”
The clerk shook his head. “Sorry. He had three for the year, but he used them up in January.”
“Man, this is fucked! I been comin’ in here on Tommy’s pass for two years, boy, I swear to God!” Joey had a thick Italian New Yorker stawk. Avery wasn’t sure if that was genuine or an affectation, but it sounded real to him. Joey must have made a face or a gesture that got the clerk scared, something Avery couldn’t see from where he stood. The clerk took a step back and put his hands up. Joey scoffed. “I ain’t gonna hitcha, boy. Man, just… Fuck you. Alright, go fuck yaself.” He spat, turned and licked his lips. He saw Avery and nodded as though they knew each other.
Joey sauntered outside. His hands were clenched in fists, and since his shredder didn’t cover most of his chest, Avery could see that his muscles were tense all over. He walked like he didn’t care though.
“Hey, man, I can help you out,” Avery said. He followed Joey outside. Joey was distracted by his anger, so he didn’t realize Avery was talking to him. “I’ll buy you a membership for a whole year.”
“What?” He paused and thought. “Wait, what? Huh?”
“Will you ramrod me? I’ll buy you a membership for a whole year if you cornhole me,” Avery said.
There was a long pause. Then Joey guffawed. He clasped his belly and bellowed, “Yo, what?!”
“I’ll jerk you off better than any girl, and you can demolish my ass,” Avery said. “Come on… A whole year of gym membership.”
“Yo, man…” He made a face like he was going to say no, like he was going to shout ‘of course not’. He grabbed his dick through his workout shorts. “Yo… Yo, man… Hey… Uh…” He sighed. “Yo, I ain’t poor or nothin’. Don’t get that impression. I ain’t, y’know, I ain’t not buy that membership myself cuz I can’t afford it. Ain’t ‘bout that, man, I swear to God. I’ll light a twenty-dollar Avery on fire now just to prove it-” he took his wallet out then put it back. “I ain’t got no cash, man, but I would, I swear to God-“
“Okay, I believe you. Even when you can afford something, it’s always better to get it for free, right? Plus you get to ram me silly,” Avery said.
“Yeah, but I mean… I got a rep to protec’,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders. “Lotta… I mean, a lotta guys do that, right? Like… fo’ real? That’s true, right? People say that. Like… old guys. Old motherfuckers, y’know, when I was comin’ up… I ain’t nevuh think I get no freak swinging on my nuts. Man, they say that’s how it used to be…” He took a step back towards the door. Then he paused. “Yo, this gonna mean you my puttana. In the old country, a man who get rammed is a lesser man, a bitch, a puttana. That’s old-school, man, but that’s how I roll. You feel me?”
“That’s fine. I’ll be your bitch,” Avery said. He followed Joey inside, and they went to the fearful clerk. Avery paid for a year-long membership, while Joey mean-mugged the clerk. Joey jutted his chin out, flexed his pecs in the clerk’s direction and snarled arrogantly when Avery paid the Avery.
Then they went to the back, into the sauna. As soon as he got in there, Joey took a deep breath like he was nervous. He didn’t say anything though. He just bit his lip and flipped his shirt off.
“Yo, I got a sick body, don’t I?” He licked his lips. “Yeah, girls love me. I don’t even need the gym, man, I swear. The world is my gym, y’know.” He paused. “Like black guys in prison, y’know, you can get hard just in ya bedroom or whatever. You don’t need a gym.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery murmured as he sunk to his knees and pulled Joey’s shorts down. Joey gasped, but covered it up with a cocky chuckle. He leaned back like he was trying to escape.
After a pause, Joey blurted out, “not that I can’t afford it, man. That ain’t why I work out, y’know, wherever. I just…” He gasped a little as his cock popped out. “Damn, boy, you eager.” Then, like he needed to remind himself that he was supposed to be arrogant, he added, “‘Course you is. You wanna taste my meat. Y’ain’t no kinda vegetarian, I bet, no way.” He chuckled to himself.
Despite his cocky words, Avery thought Joey was perhaps the most nervous guy he had ever jerked off. Avery was glad to see that Joey had a big horse-cock — he had been worried that Joey was overcompensating for a small piece of meat, but that wasn’t the case. It was long and thick and veiny, and it twitched as soon as Avery popped the tip in his mouth.
“Yo, man, yeah… I, uh… swallow that shit, bitch,” Joey said. His voice was tremulous, like he had read somewhere that guys should trashtalk when they get dome from a man, but he didn’t really know how to do it. “You some kinda girlyboy, huh? I bet… Pansy, uh… You’s a pansy-ass.”
His dick stiffened up in Avery’s mouth. Joey tasted strong and firm, his cock warm and sending flavors of musk, salt and expensive soap through Avery’s senses. He could tell that Joey used some kind of fruity lotion, either as lube when he jacked off or just as lotion and then he jacked off; either way his cock tasted like it.
“I bet you like this, huh? You into it, girlyboy? Huh? This the best dick you evuh ate? I bet so,” he said with a throaty chuckle.
Avery took his dick out and thwacked it over his face. He shrugged. “Could be better. You can ram my face, y’know. Just grab my head and go for it.”
Joey’s eyes bugged out. “I, uh… I know, man.” He screwed up his eyes as though it was obvious. “Yeah. I assumed that was gonna happen. I was just lettin’ you get started. I’m hardcore, man, swear to God, you don’t even know.” He gingerly grabbed Avery’s scalp and held on tight to his hair. He gulped. “I ram, man, that’s what I do.” He danced a little on his feet. “I don’t let up neither. I tell girls, don’t mess wit’ me if you don’t want yo’ mind blown. It’s gonna be difficult, but it’s worth it, ya know? E’rything good is difficult, swear to God. Ya gotta work at it, baby. So yeah, I’m-a ram ya throat. You my puttana, that’s just right. It’d be wrong fo’ me to be gentle on ya throat, bitch. God don’t want that. God want puttanas treated like puttanas.” He gulped again and pivoted his hips.
His dick slid down Avery’s throat once more. Avery opened up as wide as he could to swallow it, and when he couldn’t take any more, he gagged. He loved that meaty feeling crowding up his throat, making his eyes water as he accepted it all.
“Oh, wait, I seen my uncle do this,” Joey said, his voice finally betraying his excitement. Then he made a serious face. “No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.” He lightly slapped Avery’s face and rammed his dick down again. When Avery gagged, Joey said, “No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.” He did it again, and again, his words not exactly mean but firm and strict, like he was talking to a disobedient prostitute.
Avery loved it. He made no effort to stop gagging. He loved being facefucked, and he loved Joey talking to him like a slutty girl. Joey’s balls slapped against Avery’s chin as he savored the salty taste of precum that flowed down his throat.
“No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.”
Finally Joey managed to get his dick all the way in, balls dangling against Avery’s chin. Joey pumped his biceps and cheered. He grunted loudly like a caveman, then realized he might be heard outside the sauna so he stopped.
“Yo, yeah, you my puttana now, hell yeah! Ram! Turnin’ yo’ throat into my pussy, bitch!” Joey said. “Got my balls on yo’ chin. You got chinballs, that’s what you got. I see that, bitch. Yo’ daddy must be ‘shamed of yo’ chinballs, ain’t he? Should be.” He sniffled.
He pulled off and let Avery gasp for air. Thick tendrils of spit connected Avery’s lips to Joey’s cock. Joey’s face was a little reddish, both from sexual arousal and embarrassment, not to mention a physiological reaction to the warm, humid air of the sauna.
“You worshipin’ my shit, right? Yo, you ever seen a man wit’ a body like this, huh?” He gestured to his six-pack. “Fuckin’ bomb, right?!”
“Yeah-“
“Yo, man, I try to strip and the woman — who was a total fuckin’ bitch, lemme tell you. But she say nah, she won’t hire me, she say no way on ‘ccount of I’m too short.” He looked like that was the biggest injustice he had ever heard of. His eyes popped out, jaw jutting forward. “Fuck that, man! Fuckin’ hell!”
“You have a great body-“
“I know, man, I know it! Whatevuh, fuck her, I don’t even care.” He paused. “It weren’t about the money, neither. Strippers make good money, but I got money, no problem. That ain’t it. I just wanted to give girls access, ya know. They deserve it. They need it. Ya dig?” He paused. “I ain’t poor, swear to God.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said as he rubbed Joey’s precum leaking cock over his face. Then he slowly licked a trail up Joey’s body, licking his chest and savoring the salty sweat that collected there. Joey was visibly uncomfortable with that — it looked like he was ticklish and trying to suppress his giggling — but he didn’t want to stop Avery; he puffed up his chest to make his muscles bigger. Avery smiled. “You know if you were a male stripper, you’d get hired by a lot of men. It’d be a lot of dudes feeling you up, appreciating your physique.”
He narrowed his eyes to slits. “I wouldn’t be that kind of stripper. Unless they pay good.” He paused. “I mean, no… No way, not for no amount of money. I got money, man. My papa got money, yo. He work for the Mafia. You ain’t hear that from me.”
“Sure, yeah.” Avery sucked the sweat off his biceps. “You have amazing arms. I’ve never seen anyone with biceps like yours. So big… You must be so strong.”
“That’s right, puttana, I swear to God. People don’t even know. I’m short, I know that, people’s always, y’know, talkin’ smack ‘bout me bein’ short. But y’know, I got meat, I got muscle, and I work out like none other, swear to God. I be in this gym e’ry day, man, you don’t even know,” he said. He flexed his biceps. “I’m gonna be a stuntman, yo, I swear to God.”
Avery dropped back to his knees and licked Joey’s cock until it was fully hard again, while he rubbed lube into his asshole. Joey didn’t seem to notice, he had his arms folded over his chest as he daydreamed about being a stuntman.
“My papa don’t even know, man, he always talkin’ ‘bout how I gotta go work at McDonald’s or somethin’,” Joey said with a groan. Then he startled and stood up. “I mean… as a front, ‘course. He want me to have a visible source of income, ya know? For the IRS or whatever.” He paused. “I don’t live wit’ my parents. I mean… Wait, yeah, I live wit’ my parents, but only so I can protect ‘em, y’know. There’s all kinda families who wanna hit ‘em, who wanna hit me and might stoop so low as to hit my mama to get at me.” He peered down at Avery to see if Avery was buying this. Avery didn’t care, he focused on slathering spit up and down Joey’s cockshaft. Avery didn’t believe Joey at all about any of this, but he saw no reason to let on. Joey sniffled like he was satisfied. “That’s, y’know, that’s part of bein’ hardcore. You gotta put up wit’ risk, ya dig? Always someone tryin’ to come at me.”
“You ready to ram me?” Avery asked. He kissed Joey’s dicktip, then turned around and guided it towards his ass.
“Hell yeah.” Joey’s voice again betrayed his lack of confidence. Avery wondered if he had ever even rammed a girl in the ass; he suspected not, but Joey, of course, would never admit that. Joey jerked in his breath as his dick pushed into Avery’s ass. Joey closed his eyes and gasped. He leaned against the wall of the sauna.
“Gonna wreck, uh… Gonna wreck ya butthole, man,” Joey said. He sounded like he was near tears, which made Avery suppress a giggle as Joey continued to haltingly, tensely talk shit. “Damn, boy, shit… You, uh… Gonna turn yo’ asshole into my, uh… Uh… pussy. Or, uh… Yeah.”
His hands jumped around in the air above Avery’s back, like he didn’t want to touch a man’s flesh any more than absolutely necessary. He pumped his biceps, showing off his muscles in the mirror on the sauna wall — no one was here to watch except for Avery, who faced the wrong way, so the only person who could see Joey’s muscles was himself.
“Oh!” Joey gasped like he had just remembered something. “You gotta play along, man. I’m callin’ my boy.” He bent over to pick his phone out of his pants pocket. Then he dialed a number. His voice was suddenly deep and gruff, betraying no hint about what he was doing. His dick rubbed against Avery’s prostate, forcing Avery to muffle the sound of his tortuous moan of pre-orgasmic bliss. Joey sneered at him. “Yo. Yeah. I just wanted to let you know I’m doin’ that thing we was talkin’ ‘bout, that you said we should all do but nevuh admit-” He laughed cockily. “Nah, not that. Nah. Nah.” He rolled his eyes. Then he whispered, “ain’t a fat chick, man. I don’t ram wit’ fat bitches, quit sayin’ that, and she weren’t that fat. It ain’t no kinda girl. Remember? You said you’d do it and I was like no way. Well, y’know, my balls got swole and-” He laughed. “Yeah, man, yeah, I’m demolishin’ this boy. He owe me money, y’know.”
Avery grunted as he slid all the way back, finally getting every inch of Joey’s dick in his ass. It was thick and hard, throbbing, and it sent waves of intense pressure through Avery’s body. He felt pleasure too, but it was more distant for now, growing with each thrust of Avery’s body back and forth on Joey’s manhood.
“Nah, this is some bitch who owe me money. He ain’t got it on ‘ccount of him being a deadbeat. So I shove my interest rate right up his stupid bitch-ass, to remind him he gotta pay me. Ain’t that right, puttana?”
“Yes! I’m a deadbeat and I’m your bitch!” Avery groaned. He didn’t make an effort to sound like he was really a deadbeat, but the tension in his voice was enough to further the illusion for the friend on the other end of the line.
Joey scoffed at whatever his friend said. “Yeah, man, I don’t gotta tell you e’rything. Ain’t loan-sharkin’, not exactly. I just got some business interests, y’know. I loan out a little money here and there. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ it, I just gotta get a little creative to get paid. I swear, man, whatchoo sayin’? Huh? I don’t tell you ‘bout all the Mafia-shit I do. Ain’t s’posed to, man, it’s secret. Go ram yaself, Tommy. You don’t know e’rything I do. I swear to God, I just make loans — I got money, Tommy, you know that — fuck you! Fuck you! I don’t ‘live in my parents’ basement’, man, it ain’t like that! I’m security! I keeps ‘em safe!” He paused, screamed into the phone and punched the wall behind himself. “Ram you!” He hung up the phone.
Then, before Avery could say anything, Joey grabbed his hips and rammed his cock all the way in. He growled and grabbed Joey by the hair. He held on tight as he rode him hard.
Pain exploded in Avery’s ass. He moaned, biting his lip to avoid making too much noise. Though the pain was intensified by Joey’s angry plowing, the pleasure was magnified as well. Avery grunted and squirmed beneath Joey’s body.
“Man, ram that asshole, I swear to God. I could kick his ass. I should, man, I swear to God, I will. Next time I see him, I gonna demolish him. He don’t know, man, he don’t know jack-shit ‘bout me, swear to God,” he said. “He knows I’m in the Mafia. He knows that. He just denies it to piss me off.” He was so focused on expressing his anger against his friend that he barely noticed when Avery motioned for him to lower his body.
So Joey just did it. He had started off not wanting to touch Avery any more than necessary, but now he slammed his heavy, muscle-dense body on Avery’s back. He grunted into Avery’s ear as he rammed hard, ramming his dick in and out. He was oblivious to everything except his harsh words muttered into Avery’s ear.
“He’s a pussy anyway, man, he didn’t lose his virginity until senior year, swear to God, that is some weak sauce. He always cryin’ bout how he loves some girl or another, man, that ain’t hardcore,” Joey said. “So he don’t even know. He don’t even know, man, swear to God.” He paused and grabbed Avery by the hair, lifting his head up so he could see his face. “You know, man, right? I go hard, huh? You evuh been rammed this hard?”
“No, never. It’s too much!” Avery said, laughing even as he climaxed. His torso twisting, lungs heaving for air, covered up the sound of his laughter, so Joey interpreted it as genuine agreement with his boasts.
“See! Ha! I bet he never got no one sayin’ that,” Joey said with a groan. “He make love, ya know, he don’t cornhole punks. He ain’t hardcore like me, swear to God.”
Avery’s orgasm continued. He gasped, covered in sweat. Joey would have cum already — Avery could sense it in his throbbing cock and his balls rising up in their sac — but he was still angry and more focused on that than his own pleasure, so he just kept pounding numbly while Avery shot his own wad onto the sauna floor.
It was the smell of Avery’s cum that sparked Joey to realize what he was doing. Joey took a deep breath. He licked his lips and grunted. He opened his mouth to speak, but all of the pleasure and climactic bliss that had been building up in him while he was distracted erupted at once. Joey moaned.
When he moaned, his open mouth landed on Avery’s cheek. It was close enough to a kiss for Avery, who melted into Joey’s powerful arms. Hot cum sprayed into Avery’s tight ass, while Avery lazily licked Joey’s neck and muscular shoulders.
Joey shot a huge load, thick and creamy, hot, seeping into Avery’s flesh. Avery shuddered as he felt it flow within him. Joey’s cock throbbed and spasmed inside Avery’s ass, making Avery squirm beneath Joey’s massive muscles.
“Hell yeah…” Joey said with a grunt, cum flowing like a river into Avery’s body. Then he jerked up his spit and licked his lips. ” Yeah. Fuckin’ yeah. I fuck girls in the ass all the time. I tells ‘em, y’know, when we first hook up, you best give up the booty. I don’t mess wit’ weak-sauce girls who don’t do anal, y’know, I ain’t no pussy, swear to God. I mean, I fuck pussy, I ain’t too good fo’ some pussy. But sometimes a real man need ass, ya dig?” Even as he was still cumming the last few drops of semen, he was already boasting and talking again. Now his deep, throaty voice was right next to Avery’s ears, making Avery moan, his own orgasm continuing as long as Joey’s dick teased his prostate.
But finally that came to an end as well. Joey backed up and sighed, visibly relieved like he had thought he might not be able to do that. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Alright. Good. Fuck you, pansy,” he said. He chuckled to himself. “Yo, I’m a real paesano, ya know.” He grabbed Avery’s pants, pulled his wallet out and took the twenty-dollar Avery out of it. “I’m chargin’ you an extra twenty bucks cuz I rammed you so good. I ain’t mean to ram you that good.” He sniffled. “Not that I need the money. Ain’t ‘bout that.”
Avery couldn’t respond because his body flooded with endorphins now that his ass was empty. He laid limply on the floor. He didn’t mind losing the extra twenty dollars anyway. He smiled.
Joey tucked his cock away. He flexed his biceps at himself in the mirror. “Yeah. Good, that was cool. Fuck yeah. If anyone ever ask, boy, I swear to God, you had best say you owed me money. You.” He looked at Avery. “Well, whatever. Nobody gonna ask. If we run into each other at the gym again, you pretend you don’t know me.” He paused. “Unless I’m alone. You can, y’know, make another offer if you want. I don’t need the money. But, y’know, maybe I do it, just to pass the time or whatever.” He frowned. He walked to the door, then paused before he walked out. “But you gotta offer me money, man. I won’t do it for the money, but I won’t do it wit’out it either.”
“Okay, yeah, no problem,” Avery said.
“Good.” He paused again. “I mean… Even if I’m wit’ someone, you can offer. Make me an offer. I’ll prolly say fuck no. But hang around and I’ll find you after. Ain’t ‘bout the money. You can suck my swagger, bitch.”
“I know, okay. I can’t wait.”
“I know. You ain’t gotta tell me, bitch,” he said as he slammed the door shut.

The Bodybuilding Governor

Rob is desperate to land the hunky governor of Rhode Island, a former action star with a body to die for. Lucky for Rob, the governor is willing to give him a swing on his alpha male manmeat with the right incentive.

That means Rob is in for one exciting adventure in executive-branch man-on-man action!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob stood in the audience, clapping, as he listened to Governor Pancroft’s speech. It was a good speech. Pancroft wasn’t the most charismatic public speaker, but he had a certain awkward charm about him. Plus he had great dimples and a body to die for, which was enough for Rob (and, it seemed, the voters).
Once the speech was over, the crowd melted away. Rob remained though. He was here to talk to Governor Pancroft.
That suit was delightfully tight, showing off the muscles that made Pancroft famous to begin with. Jesse Pancroft had been a professional bodybuilder before becoming an actor and then, eventually, Governor of Rhode Island.
Governor Pancroft stood there shaking hands with people — members of the State Senate, Rob was pretty sure. The situation was kind of tense because most of these members were Republicans, while Pancroft was a Democrat. Rob didn’t care.
He was apolitical. He was only involved in politics because he was in advertising, and he wanted the Pancroft campaign business. Pancroft was going to kick off his re-election campaign soon, so now was the time to do it.
“Hi, Governor Pancroft, it’s so nice to meet you, and I’ve been a fan of your work since the education bill,” Rob said.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, come here, young man,” Governor Pancroft said. He was jokingly friendly because that “education bill” never passed due to intense opposition — Pancroft was happy to meet someone who had paid attention to his career and approved of his first controversial political act. Not many people liked that education bill.
“I work for Mayerbridge Analytics,” Rob said. “I was hoping we could talk today so I could tell you I think you’re being ill-served by your digital team. I can get you a higher rate of user engagement for the same price you’re paying right now.”
Governor Pancroft peered at him, his big body flexing against the confines of his suit. “How do you know what I’m paying right now?”
“Oh, sorry, I forgot something.” Rob cleared his throat. “You’re also over-paying for ineffective data security while your team leaks like a colander.” The retinue of men and women behind the Governor bristled and tried to step between him and Rob. But Governor Pancroft waved them away.
“Let’s talk more. Can you meet me at my hotel this evening?”
“Certainly,” Rob said.
The governor hurried away then, his team shooting angry glances at Rob. He was used to that. You couldn’t move in political circles without making enemies — any scrap of power you might gain for yourself has to come at someone else’s expense, so no matter what you do, it makes you an enemy of someone.
Rob wasn’t worried. He was used to making enemies.
He put his pitch together and headed to the hotel in the evening. He eventually found the governor in the hotel’s gym. Governor Pancroft was on an exercise bike, flanked by assistants, when Rob finally made it in there to see him.
“Our targeting software is more thorough than any of our competitors. We have detailed profiles on every single American, including a list of their nicknames, aliases and screen names. We can match up-” Rob launched into his well-rehearsed pitch, forcing himself to speak despite his distraction.
He was distracted because Governor Pancroft had an incredible physique, especially for a middle-aged man. As a bodybuilder, he had been among the most muscular men in the world — he had been a champion bodybuilder back in the early nineties. Now he was a little older, and he certainly wasn’t a champion anymore, but he maintained his body.
He looked even better now, Rob thought. He had been handsome back then, but he had had that weird bulgey monster-like look that all bodybuilders had. Now he was more human, more real, with fleshy flesh atop firm muscles. He wasn’t quite so vascular, and his skin was taut but not stretched thin like on a bodybuilder.
He looked especially good now, on his exercise bike, wearing only a white tee shirt and shorts. Those thighs made Rob shudder and shake with desire, they were so thick and firm, covered in kinky black hairs. His head was smooth, which was a stark contrast to his former long blond locks, but again, Rob thought he looked better like this. He didn’t mind a bald man, and Governor Pancroft leaned into it by shaving his head.
“I see, I see, I’ve heard Mayerbridge has a good reputation. Governor Maggenhein said she used you guys.”
“Ah, yes, she was remarkable. An excellent candidate,” Rob said. “If she weren’t from Delaware, she could have gone national.”
“It’s easier for a woman. They’re not tempted by hot young flesh every day,” Governor Pancroft said with a laugh. He glanced among his retinue to make sure no one was offended, but they all laughed along with him. “Well, except for Carol.” He winked at one of the women who worked for him, and she blushed. Pancroft looked back at Rob. “Your company can’t make interns go away, can they?”
“Not yet, sir, we’re working on the technology,” Rob said, laughing along with him. He clutched Governor Pancroft’s on his big strong shoulder, barely managing to avoid letting out a moan. Rob enjoyed muscular men. He could have gladly stood there massaging Pancroft’s shoulder all day long.
Governor Pancroft’s dimpled grin disappeared. He glanced at his retinue and security detail, then nodded to the door. “I need privacy.”
Rob stood there while the room emptied. Governor Pancroft waited until the door had slammed shut, and then he lowered his gaze. “You said you have data on every American, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Might I be able to access some of it? Specifically, there’s a woman named Caitlin Smiles, I need to know who she’s been talking to, who she’s been emailing. Is that…?”
“That is data we have access to, yes,” Rob said. He yawned. “It’s not something we make available to our clients though, not as a matter of course.”
“But you do sometimes?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Saying you don’t do something ‘as a matter of course’ implies you do do it more irregularly,” Governor Pancroft said. He flashed those incredible dimples once more. His tan skin gleamed with the sweat from his workout. He got down off the exercise bike, and his height and burly build became even more intimidating to Rob.
Rob gulped. “That is an interesting point, Governor,” he said. “If you were to hire Mayerbridge Analytics, I might be able to see what we could do. Perhaps a mistake would occur, wherein a person’s data was accidentally printed out and brought to you by a private courier covered by a non-disclosure agreement. Mistakes do occur.”
“Indeed.”
“What did you say her name was? Caitlin Smiles? Caitlin with a Y?”
“With an I, and that might not be her real name.” He put on a cock-eyed smile. “She’s a stripper.”
“Excellent, thank you,” Rob said. He cleared his throat. “You must have very little time for women, Governor, and so few opportunities to be with them safely.”
“Yeah, man, that’s a problem.” Pancroft rolled his eyes. “The press is fuckin’ crazy, you know? They still think I was messing around with this intern like three years ago, they keep interviewing her and shit…” He chuckled with glee. “But I never did, and never would! She was fat as hell, and not in a good way. She smelled like a quesadilla.” He paused. “That wasn’t a racist joke, she wasn’t Mexican, she literally smelled like a quesadilla. You’d have to pay me to fuck her! Like, a lot too, you’d have to pay six figures at least. Seven if I had to keep the lights on.”
Rob laughed along with him. “Was that the Caitlin-?”
“Oh, no, different woman entirely. I never slept with Caitlin Smiles either, she’s a stripper whose brother keeps getting leaks from my team. I need to know who’s talking to her.” He grinned. “She is pretty hot though. Her, I’d fuck, in a heartbeat.”
“Ah, well…” Rob smiled. “Maybe I could help.”
“What? You know her? Can you get info off her directly?”
“No, no, not like that. I mean I could help in other ways. I know your wife is usually gone-“
“Raising money for Martian orphans or something, yeah.”
“So you must be in desperate need of a woman’s touch.”
“If you’re going to hook me up with a prostitute, I’m not interested. I can’t afford more blackmail,” he said with a laugh. He got back up on the exercise bike, lazily pedaling as he talked. Then his eyes brightened like he had forgotten something. He went to the box of dumbbells on the floor and picked up a small weight. He began doing bicep curls, the sight of which made Rob shift his weight uncomfortably. Governor Pancroft’s biceps were firm and massive — his hefty frame made his arms so big Rob could have curled up in his armpit.
“No, I’m not a pimp,” Rob said. “I just thought I could help, y’know, if you were horny. I’d be a lot more likely to find that information on Caitlin Smiles if I knew I could trust you.”
“Oh? What would it take for you to trust me that well?”
“I find that the best way to get to know a man, to know if he’s trustworthy or not… is to get it up the ass from him. You can’t lie with your dick in a man’s ass, that’s science.”
“Is it?” Governor Pancroft finally stopped his bicep curls for long enough to peer into Rob’s eyes.
Rob nodded. “There’s no cameras in here, right?”
“No… My security guys checked this place.”
“So you don’t have to worry about blackmail. The media wouldn’t believe it anyway,” Rob said, “So this is a freebie.” He licked his lips. “And we’d both enjoy it… and then, when it’s all over, you’ll get your information on Ms Smiles.” Rob gently caressed the solid bump of Governor Pancroft’s left bicep.
Pancroft shrugged. He got up, ignoring Rob’s touch, and went to the hotel room door. He poked his head out.
“Don’t disturb me for at least five minutes.”
“Ten,” Rob said. He snuck up behind Governor Pancroft and pinched one asscheek. Pancroft bristled and swayed his hips like he was trying to push Rob’s hand away with his ass.
“Ten minutes. No, fifteen.” Governor Pancroft smiled.
“Governor, we have that meeting with the majority leader in half an hour-“
“Well, half an hour is longer than fifteen minutes, isn’t it, Carol? So it’s all good. Just stay out for fifteen minutes. We’re discussing… national security in here.” He slammed the door shut. He scoffed. “She nags worse than my wife.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Rob said. He smiled and put one finger on the elastic waistband of Pancroft’s workout shorts. He hooked into the fabric — he could just barely feel the coarse pubic hairs that extended this far up on his body — and used it like a harness to drag Governor Pancroft across the room.
Pancroft moved to lay down on the bench-press bench, but Rob stopped him. “On the exercise chair, if you don’t mind.”
“Oh? Oh, you like it like that… Fine.” Pancroft sat on the bike, holding onto the handles for support as Rob kneeled next to the bike. It smelled strongly of his sweat and his stale funk, which Rob adored. Alphas love it when someone worshiped their body and the stink that women normally disliked. That was especially true of politicians who were expected to be clean and spotless at all times, and Rob took a big long sniff of he funk.
“Umm… Governor Pancroft, you taste so good…” Rob’s tongue snaked out and licked all over the vinyl surface of the bike-seat, while Pancroft lifted himself up to pull his shorts down.
At last a hefty cock popped out. Rob had seen that cock in a blurry still-image from the movie Locked Up in Alabama when Governor Pancroft — then just a bodybuilder and aspiring action star — had played Prison Rapist Number Two. The shot of his bare cock wasn’t in the final movie, nor even in the director’s cut, it had just appeared on the Internet a few years after the movie’s release. Pancroft had never given permission for it, and he threatened a lawsuit.
So Rob had been daydreaming about this for a long time. He was glad to see it was as big in real life as it had seemed to be in that blurry picture. He wondered, not for the first time, if Pancroft had leaked it himself — it got him plenty of attention, plus it ensured everyone knew he had a big cock, while he got to play the victim and ally with various women’s groups opposed to revenge porn. It was good politics. Rob would have suggested leaking it if he were involved in Pancroft’s career at the time.
He slurped on the tip of Pancroft’s big cockshaft, which lay stuck to his ballsac because he was sweaty and unwashed. Rob didn’t use his fingers — it was hotter to struggle a bit to get it in his mouth — so he had to use his tongue to unstick the shaft from his sac and then work it, centimeter by centimeter, into his mouth.
It twinged and pulsated in Rob’s mouth. The taste was bright and sunny, intensely salty, and it made Rob’s brain reel with desire. He sucked down every drop of manly sweat that clung to Pancroft’s shaft.
“Aaaaah, shit… you know how long it’s been since I got a blowjob from a woman?” He leaned back, but since there was nothing to lean on, he gripped the handlebars, stretching his back and shoulders as far as he could. “It’s been like six years. My wife doesn’t suck dick. She says it’s unfeminist.”
Rob made a supportive gurgling noise, but he wasn’t really listening. Married men usually talked about their wives when he jacked them off. It was annoying but predictable. No wife keeps up with the blowjobs after marriage. They all seem like they will, or at least might, but none do.
As Governor Pancroft’s cock firmed up in Rob’s mouth, Rob swallowed it deeper and deeper. Once he was fully erect, Rob pulled off and ran his tongue up and down the shaft. Pancroft shuddered and moaned, as a wave of pleasure visibly rippled through his muscular torso. He held onto Rob’s scalp and guided his head up and down, and Rob stretched his throat to swallow the whole thing.
He got down so deep Pancroft’s pubic hair enveloped his nose, and Rob could smell the humid sweat rising up from his ballsac. Rob hefted his balls in one hand as though estimating their weight, while his other reached up to massage the rippling muscle of his chest and his flat belly.
“Ah, yeah, get your tongue all over there, right here.” He pointed to the root of his cock, right where it met his crotch and his sac. Rob attacked it with his mouth, producing so much spit it dripped in clumps onto the exercise bike. “Shit… you’re making a mess.”
Rob looked up at him, hands roaming over Pancroft’s bodybuilder-chest. “With all due respect, Governor, it’s your cock, it’s your mess.”
Pancroft laughed his big barrel-belly laugh. He clutched his chest. “Well, I’m in charge of this state, and I’m commanding you to swallow all that nastiness instead of letting it drip all over the bike. Why, the good people of Rhode Island paid for this exercise bike!”
“Hmmm… I have an idea for something that would be much tidier,” Rob said. He kept one hand slowly stroking Pancroft’s cock, letting the precum lube up his grip, as he climbed onto the bike on Pancroft’s lap. It was difficult, and he had to use Pancroft’s muscles for support, which did not bother Rob one bit. He ascended his chest and biceps like a mountain, until at last his feet were on the pedals, ass raised above Pancroft’s crotch, his dick aiming for it already.
“Shit, man, damn… I feel like I’m just a gym rat again,” he murmured to himself. He would never admit it, but he had had a sugar-daddy when he was just beginning his career. He could barely afford a gym membership, and an older man had offered to pay for it as long as he came over to “do some work” at his apartment. When he began his political career, Pancroft was relieved to discover that older man had died a few years before, seemingly without telling anyone about it — Pancroft hadn’t been all that famous before the man died, so he probably had no reason to tell anyone.
It had been a long time since he had anal too, Governor Pancroft thought. Being governor was not as much fun as he had hoped. If he had joined politics back in the JFK-era, he thought, that would have been fun. He’d be fucking some beautiful blonde intern on an exercise bike instead of a cornholing this media freak.
But Pancroft didn’t care at this point who he stuck his dick in. He just wanted to ram his cock into an ass that wouldn’t complain and might even beg to take the whole thing. Most women wouldn’t even take his entire cock in their pussy, much less their ass. This turned out to be the perfect position. He was tall enough to stand on his feet, straddling the bike, while Rob stood on the pedals and leaned forward.
“Ah shit…” He grunted into Rob’s ear, gripping him with both hands when Rob shuddered. “Hold still, yeah, lemme in…” He kissed Rob on the cheek. That was entirely out of habit — he hadn’t intended to kiss Rob at all — but Pancroft leaned into it and pretended it was deliberate. He kissed him as though that was his payment. It didn’t really feel as weird as he had thought it would. It was like kissing a statue though, because Rob was gritting his teeth and grunting as his asshole stretched to accommodate Pancroft’s cock.
There was resistance but not because Rob was trying to stop Pancroft’s cock from entering him. He wanted to take the whole thing. It was just so big he had to take a deep breath and stretch his asshole open. Rob took enough dick these days that he rarely had to struggle like that, an dit was nice to have a challenge.
“Hmmm, oh god, you feel nice…” Pancroft said. He thrust with his hips once more, forcing the rest of his shaft all the way to the root into Rob’s sensitive ass. The sensation sent a wave of cascading pleasure to crash through Rob’s body, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug at the exercise bike’s controls.
At last, Pancroft was all the way in, his thick-fingered hands groping roughly over Rob’s smooth body. He gently caressed Rob’s chest and kissed him on the cheek and earlobe. He was glad to see that Rob seemed to like the kiss on his earlobe — Pancroft’s wife liked that too — so Pancroft focused on doing that over and over. He paid little attention to his lips because all that mattered to him in the moment was the sheer bliss shooting through his body from Rob’s tight booty.
The pressure in Rob’s ass was intense, but it was slowly, bit by bit, replaced by an intense wave of pleasure instead. It flowed through him, first pulsating in sync with his heartbeat, like he could only feel pleasure in between the beats.
“Oh god, stick it in me!”
But the more Governor Pancroft rammed back and forth, the most constant and potent was Rob’s growing orgasm. He gripped the exercise bike so firmly he thought he might rip it off. Governor Pancroft’s kept on licking and sucking on his earlobe as though that was his sole focus right now, his hips and cock moving on autopilot.
Rob shot his own wad, just as there came a loud knock on the door. Maybe the surprise of the sound was what triggered Rob’s orgasm, and it certainly made it more intense, as he tightened up and stopped moving for a moment. Then he could resist no longer, and Rob shot his cream onto the frame and body of the exercise bike. Cum flew over the entire thing and coated Rob’s hand. A fat creamy wad of jizz spurted onto the floor beside the exercise bike.
“Sir? Are you okay?” One of the bodyguards could be heard right outside the door.
“Yes! Fine! I’m just working out hard, you know how that is!” Governor Pancroft called out. “Gotta get my pump on!” He hoped that didn’t sound as tense as it seemed in his mind. He tried to sound out-of-breath, both because that would make sense if he was exercising hard and because it would cover up the sexual tension in his voice.
Apparently it worked. That security guy breathed heavily outside the room, listening at the door, but he didn’t come in. Cum dripped over the exercise bike as Governor Pancroft finally reached orgasm, the most potent climax he’d felt since before he got married. Rob was only just now finishing up his own climax.
Pancroft didn’t even know it could still feel like this. Waves of bliss wafted over him. He didn’t even feel himself actually cumming because Rob’s ass was so tight it enveloped him, as though his entire body was inside Rob and experiencing this incredible climax.
He roared and pounded on his chest, managing to avoid making such obvious sounds only because he turned it into a Tarzan yell — that was a joke he sometimes made when someone commented on his muscles — that sounded more or less like his normal voice. It concealed the warbly orgasmic nature to his tone.
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, coating his insides and seeping into his flesh. He could feel it trickling through his body. It kept flowing too, wad after wad of it flying into him. That was a bigger wad than Rob expected from a middle-aged man.
“Ah, goddamn, hell yeah…” Governor Pancroft sighed, as another jet of jizz leaked into Rob’s behind. He had felt this relaxed in a long time either. It was almost enough to make him want to quit politics. He’d be famous enough he could fuck all the time then, women would throw themselves at him and they may not feel as good as Rob’s tight ass… But Governor Pancroft didn’t want to think like that. He told himself that Rob’s ass was not as good as any woman’s tender womanhood and certainly not as good as his wife’s.
Not that she ever let him put it in her bottom.
He let his cock slowly slip out of Rob’s ass, and they both shuddered when it finally happened. Rob sighed and rolled off the bike, which now stank of cum. Rob got a handful of toilet paper from the bathroom and wiped it all up the best he could.
“C’mon, hurry up and get dressed,” Governor Pancroft said crossly. He had already put his exercise clothes back on. “I’m going to take a shower before meeting the majority leader. Since, y’know, he’s unlikely to jerk me off.”
“You never know…” Rob smirked as he got dressed. “So do we have your business?”
Pancroft shook his hand. “You certainly do. Send me the paperwork, and I’ll sign it.”
Rob smiled back at him. “I certainly will, and I’ll bring you that info as soon as I can get it without leaving a record. Gimme a week,” he said. “Have a good night with the majority leader. Don’t let him pressure you into anything. No means no.” He saluted smartly and walked out the door before Governor Pancroft could respond.
Rob ignored the suspicious glances of the security guys and politicos who watched him leave. He was used to their suspicions, and it didn’t bother him. He had gotten what he wanted — the Pancroft reelection campaign account — and the other thing he wanted to boot — to get it up the ass from Governor Pancroft, and that was all that mattered to Rob.

Downlow at the Basketball Court

Desmond is in for an adventure in urban machismo, downlow action and hot, throbbing black men! That’s cuz Desmond is back at his old haunts, servicing the ghetto thugs and alphas of the Bullmass Park basketball court. That’s where the city’s toughest, strongest men hang out and where Desmond services their every alpha male need!

What has Desmond got himself into this time?!

Read it now!

The Dallas Alpha

When Rob meets a mysterious biker, he never thought he’d wind up exploring every inch of the man’s studly body. But at the legendary bar Lipsweet, anything is possible, and the redneck ex-con Cooter is willing to give Rob a swing on his most studly of meats!

Read it as an ebook!

Read the whole thing right here

The bar was less crowded than it usually was, although Rob didn’t normally go on a Thursday night, so he couldn’t say for sure. He noticed a few regulars — Francis playing pool with Deshawn and Tiny, Suzette in her tied-up flannel shirt and cut-off denim shorts, Tall Bear with a few beers already lined up in front of him on the bar. Rob nodded a greeting to a few folks he knew as he passed by, making his way to the bar and sitting a few stools down from Tall Bear, whom he gave a half-hearted wave to.
Tall Bear wore a Cowboys jersey, as Lipsweet was a football bar, and in Dallas, that meant the Cowboys. TVs mounted on the walls blared a highlights show running through clips from previous games. Rob ignored it. He wasn’t a football guy. Most of the other patrons too, but for the opposite reason — they ignored the clips show because they’d watched the games. They already knew the highlights.
But there was no actual game to watch at three o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
Rob nodded again to some acquaintances and ordered a beer from Teddy. He made small talk with Tall Bear and a few other imbibers he knew, sipping on his beer, until the loud sound of a gravelly motor growing louder quieted the din of conversation.
Around here, a motorcycle meant bikers, which meant the Jagged Right, which meant trouble.
The bar practically held its breath. Rob turned around in time to see the door open, revealing a tall, solid man in a black tee-shirt, leather jacket, and tight, fitted denim pants. His boots thumped solid and heavy against the concrete floor as he walked up to the bar and sat down right next to Rob. He was middle-aged but powerfully built, with a spring in his step like a much younger man. His wild beard like a gold prospector made him look like a vicious Amish or maybe a redneck Muslim.
A new murmur of conversation sprang up, people craning their necks to get a better view of the interloper. Rob watched the man out of the corner of his eye. He was tanned and had a strong jaw, dark brown hair, darker brown eyes. He sat with a confidence that was inherently alluring, and Rob shifted uncomfortably in his seat, turning his attention back to his beer. The man’s biceps flexed within the confines of his t-shirt, almost bursting the seams, and Rob couldn’t think of anything else but what those muscles would feel like wrapped around his body.
Conversation resumed when it became apparent this was not a robbery, a fistfight, a naked woman or the arrival of a football player, which were the only things that could interrupt drinking at Lipsweet. Rob resumed drinking his beer.
After a few minutes, though, Rob sensed someone’s eyes on him and turned to see that interloper looking at him, a knowing smirk on his face. “How ya doin’?” he asked. His accent was thick with redneckery, but with a Western twang to it, the sound of a native longhorn. Rob was from out east, but here in Texas, most folks jawed like that stranger storming in like a silent tornado.
Rob fought the impulse to check behind him for another person, knowing that the man could only be addressing him. “Doin’ alright. Yourself?”
“Pretty good,” the man answered. He let his eyes trail slowly over Rob, blatantly checking him out, and smiled. “Name’s Cooter.” He held out a large, callussed hand, and Rob shook it. His heart was pounding, as the man’s alpha male demeanor and his well-muscled solidity gave Rob a frisson of excitement. Rob did appreciate the male form.
“Rob. You new around here?” In this tiny town, everybody knew everybody, so Rob was the only one who didn’t know that Cooter was from elsewhere. He was not one of Dallas’s Jagged Right.
That was a motorcycle gang in these parts and most other parts as well. The Jagged Right was strongly regional though. If Cooter wasn’t from the local club, he couldn’t try anything in Dallas, or the local club would come after him. In any case, Cooter looked more likely to drive an unlicensed dirtbike on a public road than to do any serious crime.
“Nah, not really. Just tryin’ a change of pace for a night. Hey, let’s have another drink,” Cooter said. He let his hand trail down Rob’s arm after he signaled for the bartender.
Rob gulped, determined not to show how eager he was. “Yeah, sounds great.” Cooter’s muscles thrummed and flexed beneath his black leather jacket.
The bartender — Teddy — brought over two beers, passing one to Rob and the other to Cooter, watching them with suspicion and interest until Cooter glared hard enough for Teddy to turn around. Rob took a sip of his beer, trying to ignore the way Cooter watched his mouth wrap around the lip of the bottle.
He tried to ignore it, but he failed, and he sensed that Cooter wanted the same thing Rob wanted. Cooter was a biker, on the road, needing a little release, and Rob was willing to release whatever Cooter had pent up.
Goddamn do I love a biker! Rob thought to himself.
“So, you come here often?” Rob asked, wanting to hit himself as soon as it was out of his mouth. It sounded like some cheesy pick-up line from a bad movie, and he was sorry to have said it without thinking about it.
Cooter laughed, ignoring Rob’s question. His shoulders clenched and flexed as he let out a dry, dusty chuckle. He licked his teeth and looked Rob up and down. He glanced around the bar too, maybe checking out if there was a woman he could go away with. But he was an out-of-towner and not a football player or even a football enthusiast, it seemed, so none of the women here seemed likely to give him the time of day. Actual football players did come here — the Titans, a local semi-pro team haunted Lipsweet — so the jock-chasing women of Lipsweet were likely going to wait for them.
Nobody told Cooter that, but nobody needed to. Cooter is nobody’s fool.
“I got a bike outside,” Cooter said with a casual sneer. He looked down his nose at Rob, not in a haughty way, just in a way that recognized that Cooter was an alpha and Rob was a passive sissy. Well, maybe not quite a sissy, but a passivo nonetheless. “Wanna see it?”
“Yeah, sure,” Rob agreed.
Cooter reached into his back pocket and pulled out his leather wallet, throwing a few bills onto the bar, more than enough for both his and Rob’s drinks. Cooter downed the remainder of his beer in one gulp, then did the same to Rob’s beer. With one smooth motion, Cooter refilled his beer from the tap behind the bar — Teddy was engrossed in a conversation with Tall Bear — and shot Rob a confiding glance. Then he headed for the door.
Without even an explicit invitation, Rob sensed that he was to follow, so he followed. The thrum of expectant conversation continued behind him. Cooter opened the door to the parking lot, which Rob thought was held open for him — what a gallant gentleman! — but then Cooter pushed in front of him and went out first. Rob wondered if that was deliberate, if Cooter wanted to signal that Rob was no woman and would not be treated like one.
That was true, of course, Rob was no woman, but he did like to be treated like one by big alphas like Cooter.
Rob followed Cooter out into the lot, receiving curious and disapproving stares from the other people in the bar as he went.
The bike was parked sideways across what could have been two spots in the gravel parking lot, and looked thrillingly, strikingly out-of-place among the pickups and rusted jeeps surrounding it. Rob had never seen a motorcycle up close like that before, he didn’t know any bikers or even any casual riders. His own family — the Winthrops — were the kind of classy Southern upper-class twats who looked down on bikers. Not Rob though. As long as they were alphas with muscles and grizzle and scruff and big fat cocks, he appreciated them, and he sensed Cooter made the grade in every way.
Gravel crunched under his feet. Rob took a couple steps closer, admiring the spotless black frame and, upon further inspection, the tribal sun painted on the black in red and gold, the symbol for the Jagged Right biker gang. It was painted into the motorcycle. That symbol sent a rush of excitement through him, adrenaline pounding through his veins — Cooter was a real biker. The Jagged Right don’t play, they were the ones who robbed that bank last week. Rob saw that on the news.
He felt Cooter step behind him, pressed close to his back. Cooter leaned down to speak in Rob’s ear. The heat from his bearish chest burned, and Rob squirmed with desire. He felt the firmity of Cooter’s muscles just centimeters from his back, and then, tantalizingly enough, Cooter came even closer. His breath condensed on Rob’s nape, and his chest pressed against Rob’s back.
“Wanna go for a ride?” Cooter asked, in that deep drawl- and twang-dripping voice.
It sent a shudder up Rob’s spine. “Yeah,” Rob nodded, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Cooter smiled a cruel and predatory grin, then offered Rob a spare helmet. Rob put it on. his heart thumped. Dad would hate it if he knew Rob was going to ride on a motorcycle, with some stranger, a stranger in a gang!
In front of Rob, Cooter straddled the bike like it was made for him, the denim of his pants straining across his ass and thighs. Rob hesitantly copied the position, his chest pressed flush against Cooter’s back and his thighs pressed against Cooter’s. Cooter revved the engine once as a warning before he kicked off, flying down the dirt road with Rob twining his arms around Cooter’s torso. Rob couldn’t believe his luck in being allowed — nay, forced, by circumstances — to fondle the great barrel chest and greasemonkey muscles of this mysterious man’s body.
Once he was no longer entranced by Cooter’s words and his presence, Rob did feel a surge of worry — his father would say this was a grave risk. Cooter could be robbing him. This could be a kidnapping.
Maybe Cooter was gonna ransom him. That thought was somehow alluring too. Rob giggled, and Cooter bristled like he sensed that despite the roar and rush of the Texas landscape whooshing by.
The wind stung Rob’s cheeks, and a few times he had to clutch desperately onto Cooter so he didn’t fall off as they went over a bump too quickly . The ride was exhilarating: the vibrations, the warmth of Cooter’s body, the mystery inherent in the dusky night air, the looks they got from people on their porches as they whipped past in a cloud of diesel and dust — all of it churned together into a current of lust with eddies of warm, burning need, and by the time Cooter pulled up to a trailer home and cut the engine, Rob was embarrassingly hard in his jeans. From the look Cooter gave him, he must have known it, too. He probably felt Rob’s cock pressing through both pairs of jeans into Cooter’s sweaty asscrack.
But he didn’t complain, even when Rob had to rearrange his manhood in his pants as he dismounted from the motorcycle. Rob still felt the thrum of the engine rocking through his body.
They were in Smashwood Trailer Park, which was on the outskirts of Amarillo. Rob had passed it by many times. It had a reputation in Amarillo as a trashy spot, with shanties and abandoned trailers in the back where hobos lived. Rob had been told to never go there to buy drugs, as he would be surely robbed. This wasn’t a drug deal, and Rob didn’t want any drugs, but still, the warning rang out in his memory.
“Do ya wanna come in?” Cooter asked. He stepped away from the bike and put his helmet on the seat. The warm firmness of his muscular arm brushed against Rob’s own thinner arm, but he felt it and barely managed to bite back a groan.
Rob greatly appreciates a man with muscles, and Cooter was powerfully built, strong as a bear. Rob had to fight back the urge to worship his muscles here and now.
Having asked Rob to come in, Cooter headed straight for the door to the trailer as though Rob’s answer was assumed. “Yeah, yes, that’d be great,” he rushed to answer, his voice pitchy and breathless. He was too horny to care about playing it cool. Rob hurried behind Cooter, and they both passed a bench press in the grass, weights scattered around it and reeking of mansweat so strong Rob could smell it without going near.
Cooter led him up the flimsy steps at the door of his trailer and pressed open the door, and this time he gestured for Rob to go first. He did, taking in the unmade bed; the couch piled with papers and wrappers; television set; the table with a gun, polish, and a cleaning kit; a counter with a six-pack of beer on it. A Confederate flag was mounted on the wall.
“Sorry, ain’t have a chance to clean up earlier, and I don’t got much furniture,” Cooter said, “But you can sit on the bed if you want.” Indeed, there were no chairs in the trailer.
Rob just smiled and moved to the bed, shucking his canvas jacket onto the couch as he went. He tried to avoid staring at the pile of dirty, sweat-stained t-shirts and boxers shorts on the floor by his feet. When he turned and sat on the bed, Cooter was right there in front of him.
“You beautiful, you know that? Pretty like a girl…” Cooter said as he ran his hands through Rob’s hair, down his body, making Rob tense and shiver. His fingers were callused and firm, gripping like a vise. “I wanna know how those lips would feel on my meat, I been thinking about that from the minute I saw you back at the bar. I sensed them lips would feel soft as silk on a man’s pecker. Wanna know how my lips feel? I sure as sugah you gonna like ’em. I sawn how you was lookin’ at me, and I felt yo’ dick gettin’ hard on my bike.”
Rob nodded, eagerly licking his lips, which made Cooter smile while he unbuckled his belt. Rob’s eyes lit up, his heart racing — that started the moment he saw Cooter back in the bar, in Lipsweet, back when Rob thought tonight would be boring and fruitless. Now he was ready to have a night of his dreams with a man of his fantasies.
A groan was already escaping from Cooter’s mouth, as Rob reached forward and unzipped Cooter’s jeans. He tugged them down until they were around his ankles, leaving behind a pair of black boxers that showed the clear outline of Cooter’s hard dick. They were plain white boxers, starchy like linen — possibly prison drawers, Rob thought. He didn’t have the presence of mind to ask though, as Rob was overwhelmed by the rush of passion.
The scent of Cooter’s unwashed crotch sent Rob reeling, his mouth watering. Cooter put his hand on the back of Rob’s head, encouraging him to get on with it, but Rob took his time — he liks to tease.
Holding back his flirtatious giggle, Rob touched the bulge in Cooter’s boxes. The merest of touches made Cooter moan again with desire. Rob palmed Cooter through the soft fabric of his underwear until Cooter leaned his head back, his mouth open and chest panting, pressing his crotch forward. Then, at last, Rob leaned forward and released Cooter’s dick from the fabric of his underwear, pushing it down to join the jeans bunched up at his ankles.
“Yeah, come on, don’t be a tease,” Cooter groaned. “That’s what I don’t like about females. That, and child support.” His cock jabbed in the air like a javelin waiting to be thrown, and it throbbed like it was already on the verge of cumming. He must have gotten hard on the rumbling motorcycle just like Rob did, Rob thought but didn’t say.
Pumping his hips like to fuck an invisible pussy in front of Rob’s face, Cooter’s cock rammed around his head. It touched his cheek, his nose, his ear, and Rob chased it with his mouth as though unable to catch it. He stuck his tongue out, and Cooter finally got a direct hit, square on his mouth and his waiting tongue.
“Awwww, damn…” Cooter’s whole body shook, as the flavor of unwashed musk and potent manhood flooded Rob’s senses.
Rob took Cooter’s dick in his hand and stroked up and down the length of it a few times, making Cooter hiss through his teeth at the contact. The smell of sweat zest and black leather astringency assaulted Rob’s nostrils, making his rod iron-hard in the prison of his own pants. Cooter’s hands tightened in Rob’s hair, gripping his scalp, and Rob let himself be guided forward, until his lips were against the head of Cooter’s cock and he was spreading them open, taking Cooter into his mouth. He licked up the underside of Cooter’s dick slowly, teasing, letting his teeth graze just slightly.
“Shit, Rob, oh my fuck….” Cooter moaned. “Shit, if you was my cellmate, I’d make you my prison…”
That was exactly what Rob was just thinking — he’d serviced plenty of alpha males, and he suspected Cooter was an ex-con. Maybe only recently released. You could tell in how he demanded, no, craved a physical touch and seemed averse to actual womanhood. He needed a man to service him because he had lost his capacity for tenderness, and for Rob, that was ideal.
There was nothing better than getting pounded by a man who could treat you no other way.
Rob pulled off again, licking his way down the shaft and to Cooter’s balls, where he licked, nipped and jerked, until Cooter was groaning and pulling Rob’s face back to his dick, using one hand to hold Rob still and the other hand to guide his manhood back into Rob’s mouth.
Spit now ran up and down the shaft, which gleamed and throbbed like a beast in Rob’s grip. It was huge, more than a foot long, long enough for Rob to get both hands on it. He gripped the root tightly with one hand, stroked the shaft with the other and sucked mightily on the knob like a stubborn straw.
His tongue teased the piss-slit, which now let out a stream of salty precum. Rob sucked down every drop he could get, and he savored the intensely salty flavor of it. It was creamy and warm, and it tasted musty, like you could sense the cooped-up manhood of Cooter’s prison stay in his prejizz.
Rob kept his mouth open and loose, letting Cooter hold Rob’s head between his hands and force his dick into Rob’s throat. When Cooter tightened his grip, Rob hollowed out his cheeks, taking in as much of Cooter’s length as possible until Cooter was shooting hot and thick ropes of down Rob’s throat.
More and more flowed into him. Rob had rarely swallowed such a massive load, but Cooter had his cock deep down that throat, and Rob could easily gulp down every drop. Cooter’s balls lay against Rob’s chin, and they drew up as they spewed their seed down Rob’s gullet.
“Hmmm-hmmmm, you got a helluva throat, hoss,” Cooter said, his voice shaking and breaking like a hormonal teenager. His knees even went weak. He very gently fucked Rob’s throat through the last of his orgasm, which made his final cumwad fill Rob’s mouth.
It overflowed past his lips, and Cooter’s muscles rippled as he coated Rob’s mug in his cream and spit. A moan escaped from Rob’s mouth, followed by a flood of jizz that Cooter’s continued humping turned into a frothy mess. It coated Rob’s face from his scalp to his neck, and the cottony smell of Cooter’s orgasm filled Rob’s nostrils.
“So good, that was so good,” Cooter said, still breathless and shaky. His cock dangled between his legs.
He pulled up his underwear and jeans, tucking himself away again without even wiping his dick off. Then he pushed Rob onto the mattress, laying on his back, and Rob was still so overcome by the sunny taste of Cooter’s jizz that he din’t react.
Cooter did nothing with Rob’s flannel shirt, but he roughly pulled down Rob’s jeans and boxers, exposing his red, swollen cock and pale, toned thighs. Cooter let out a long low rumble of desire, as his rough hands kneaded the soft flesh of Rob’s torso.
“I don’t jerk men off,” Cooter said in a thrummy growl. “But I know it’s wrong not to finish a man off after he gets a nut out. I learned that in prison, yessirree. You gotsta recip-ro-cate.” His hand touched Rob’s cock, which was ready to bust its own nut at any moment.
It sounded like he didn’t quite know what reciprocate meant, but Rob was in no mood to educate him.
Without preamble, Cooter took Rob into his hand and started jerking him off, steady and relentless. Most likely Rob would have cum in literally moments, as he was on the verge already, but Cooter’s hands were rough and callused and kind of painful, but in a good way, and it made Rob writhe and bash his head against the pillow under him.
His cock throbbing like a heart, Rob wanted to cry out for more. He fisted his hands in the sheets beneath him, biting his lip to keep from screaming out. He should have done so, of course, as this trailer was separated from the others in the trailer park, but Rob was used to hiding his passions.
When it felt too good to resist, Rob tried to shift himself around, fucking his dick up into Cooter’s hand, but Cooter held Rob’s hips down with his free hand, leaving Rob totally reliant on the rough, twisting motions of Cooter’s grip. It wasn’t long before Rob was spilling over Cooter’s hands, a scream tearing from his throat despite himself. A hot wad of sticky cum spewed out of his massive cockhead.
His own hands kneading the muscles of Cooter’s chest, Rob shot a massive wad onto his belly and over Cooter’s fingertips. Cooter kept stroking the whole time, not missing a single beat, as Rob endured the most intense orgasm of his lifetime.
“A screamer?” Cooter said, standing up to wipe his hands off on a towel. “I like that.” He walked over to the couch where Rob had dropped his jacket and tossed it to Rob, who was barely cognizant enough to catch it. Rob was still shaking through the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”
Rob, after a shaky minute, managed to get himself back into his pants and put on his jacket. The denim felt too rough and the canvas was itchy against his now-sensitive skin. Cooter was already outside by his bike when Rob came down the steps. The ride back wasn’t as awkward as Rob had been expecting, and he grew sleepy in his post-orgasmic stupor. When they stopped at the bar, Rob hopped off the back of the bike and handed Cooter the helmet.
“Do you come to this bar often, Rob?” Cooter asked as Rob started to walk to the door to Lipsweet..
“Yeah,” Rob answered, smiling, his heart ready to pound out of his chest. “I sure do.”

The Boston Alpha

Desmond is a petite, effeminate prisoner in a big tough prison, so he never thought he’d find himself in a Twink on Top situation. But that all changes when a tough guy Boston thug named Chowder really wants a party, even if that means this muscular alpha will have to bend over and take whatever Desmond wants to give!

Can Desmond handle this particular slice of Twink on Top?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read it right here

It was the most enjoyable party Desmond Talley ever been to. He knew perfectly well that it was only this fun because he had been in prison for a year and a half before it happened. It was the first enjoyable event in his entire time behind bars. So it felt like an evening in heaven.
It helped that there were no women. That meant the biggest alphas and thugs danced with girlish sissies like Desmond as though he was a girl. He even got to kiss this redneck named Bubba, whom Desmond had been drooling over for months. On the outside, Desmond was invisible at a party — to women, he was a short, negligible pansy, and to men, he was not a woman.
But in prison, he was a king. Or maybe queen.
The guards watched like it pained them to see inmates having a good time. All the gangs were told that they’d be punished if anyone got in a fight during the party. That was why it went off without a hitch.
There was no alcohol, but the guards did allow a little weed in for the night. That was probably a wise decision, Desmond thought. Alcohol would make men fight, but the weed just made them giggle and become overly entranced by nature documentaries.
But all good things come to an end, and this penal party was no exception. Desmond was disappointed to hear the music stop, and the remaining joint roaches were combined into one, then quickly smoked. The guards bellowed at the inmates to head back to their cells. Everyone lined up, dragging their feet, grumbling and claiming they weren’t gonna stop partying even as they did stop. But Desmond was at least happy that the party had gone off without a hitch — there was no fight, no smuggled-in booze, no one got hurt. That meant there was a chance the guards would allow another party in the near-future.
“Talley, hey, Talley… Desmond!” boomed a male voice. It was one of the guards — the one the inmates call Officer Crabgut — who grinned and grabbed Desmond off the line. Desmond was surprised that he said his first name. The guards never call inmates by their first name. “Come on,” Crabgut said.
“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Crabgut said. His belly chortled, his off-gray beard hairs gleaming with sweat or maybe liquor, Desmond was pretty sure the guards were drinking in the monitor-room. Crabgut looked like a drunk. “You’re gonna have a second little party.”
“Do I have a choice?” Desmond wasn’t sure what this was and he was nervous. He didn’t trust Officer Crabgut, whose voice was always menacing. It sounded like a threat even when all he said was it’s going to rain today. Crabgut was notoriously corrupt. That’s not always a bad thing — he was the one who brought weed in — but it did make him untrustworthy. Not that Desmond ever really trusted prison guards.
“Well… yeah, I guess, you can choose,” Crabgut said. “But come see what it is first. You won’t say no. If you refused this, I would be… more shocked than I have ever been in my life.”
It was hard to argue with that, and Desmond was intrigued, so he followed Crabgut into an old disused showering area. Inside the dingy shower were a handful more guards, all brimming with nervous smiles, and seated on the ground in the center of the shower, was Chowder.
Chowder was a leader in a gang called the Jagged Right. He was heavily tattooed, nearly inch of his body covered in Gothic letter, naked ladies, wild animals and an outline of Massachusetts over his left pec. He had a handsome jawline with deep dimples. His broad chest was hairy, and he had developed a six-pack since coming to prison. He was also the tallest inmate in the facility; at nearly seven feet tall, he struggled to fit through doorways and down corridors.
He winced but smiled at Desmond. His dimplesome grin wasn’t unusual — he was outgoing and charming, but he didn’t let that get in the way of business. He was one of the few big alpha males in prison whom Desmond had never jerked off. That was because he had a bitch named Sammi, whom Desmond hated. Chowder plowed Sammi publicly, hard and often. Desmond was jealous because he loved to get plowed hard by alpha thugs like Chowder.
“So, uh… Desmond,” Chowder said. When he spoke, his Boston accent either aroused Desmond or made him laugh, it was hard to tell. “I was, uh… I put togethah that pahty. I was… y’know… Uh, I had to arrange it all, dawg.” He paused like he was expecting a big reaction. “I got the weed, I got the gangs to come together, even the Mexicans-“
“Chowder… come on, we ain’t got all day,” Officer Crabgut said. “Don’t drag this out.” An underhushing from the other guards suggested they thought similarly.
“They said we could have the pahty if I did somethin’ aftah it, to prove I’s really serious about makin’ sure the party was good. I had to show I was gonna make sure it went off without no fightin’ or nothin’,” Chowder said, sucking on his teeth every other word. His thick Boston stawk made it sound like his mouth was full of cranberries. He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Desmond… will you… please stick me up the ass.” The guards all whooped and hollered. Desmond blushed even harder than Chowder, who bit his lip. He took Desmond’s hand in his like he was gonna propose. “Will you let me jerk yo’ dick and take it in the ass and lick yo’ ass but only fo’ five seconds? And no kissing, and no tellin’ nobody aftahwahds.” That sounded like something that had been carefully negotiated with Crabgut.
“Oh wow,” Desmond was so excited his knees were weak. He looked to Officer Crabgut, who had a gleeful smile on his face — Chowder was often in trouble for fighting with the guards, so they were understandably glad to watch him get it up the ass. All the guards were beaming.
Everyone looked at Desmond, who didn’t know what he was expected to do. He looked down at his feet, too scared to say anything.
“You gotta say yes,” Crabgut said with a chuckle. “If you wanna do it.”
“Yes!”
They all laughed at Desmond’s excitement and Chowder sighed again, like he mighta hoped Desmond would say no. He took off the plain blue baseball cap he wore — the only non-religious hat anyone at this prison was allowed to wear — and ran his fingers through his clipper-short hair. He sucked on his teeth and spat on the ground. He looked at Desmond sternly. “No tellin’ nobody. ‘Specially not Sammi. I can’t let her find out I cheated on her.”
“Sure! Okay. I promise, nobody will find out,” Desmond said. “I hate Sammi. I never talk to him. I-“
“Call Sammi a her.” Chowder said. He narrowed his eyes to slits, making it clear that was a threat.
Desmond gulped. He knew Chowder, like most prison alphas, referred to their bitches as a woman. Desmond had simply forgotten because he was so excited. “Okay. Yeah, I won’t tell her. Or anyone else. I swear.”
Chowder stood there, his confidence draining as he very slowly dropped his orange prison jumpsuit. The guards laughed and clapped, hooting like he was a stripper. They demanded he dance and shake his ass as he undressed. “That weren’t paht of the deal,” Chowder said, lips clenched grim as a reaper. The guards seemed to accept that, but they got more and more into cheering him on, pretending he was stripping like a dancer even if he wasn’t.
“Whoo-hoo, Chowder!”
“Let’s see ya pussy!
The sight of his bare chest and his rippling muscles made Desmond’s heart skip a beat. Back on the outside, Chowder was a violent thug, or so said the grapevine from Boston, but one of those rather fat swaggalicious men whom Desmond thought were hot even if they had a belly. Chowder always carried himself like a macho, no matter his physique. In his time in prison, however, all of that fat done melted away, leaving behind a mass of muscle and a well-worked barrel chest that bulged from his skin as though begging him to get fat again. Desmond had seen him naked in the shower, of course, so this was hardly the first time, but this was closer and more exciting. His fat cock swayed between his massive thighs. Drool escaped from Desmond’s lips as he caught whiff of Chowder’s post-party musk.
“If I evah catch you lookin’ at me in the showah like you looukin’ at me now, I will rip yo’ goddamn ahm off and smack yo’ face off with it,” Chowder said.
“Uh, Chowder-” Officer Crabgut cleared his throat. “That’s not okay. You can’t control how people look at you.”
“What I can’t control is my reaction when some sissy look at me like he wanna eat me up,” Chowder said through gritted teeth. “You may not plow me in yo’ imagination, okay, not aftah today.”
“Chowder!”
“Fine. I’m sorry, sissy. Or Desmond or whatevuuh. I ain’t tryin’-a police yo’ mind.” He rolled his eyes at Crabgut’s stern face.
“It’s okay. I won’t, Chowder, I promise,” Desmond said.
Chowder dropped his dingy prison-issued boxer, faded bloodstains ominously covering the crotch area. Desmond wondered where that blood had come from. Was it Chowder’s? Probably not, he thought, or he’d a-got his cock cut off.
“Well, you the sissy, right? How do we proceed?” Chowder scowled.
“Uh… I guess… You should swallow my dick,” Desmond said. His voice had never sounded so weak, at least in his mind.
“Hope this party was worth it,” Officer Crabgut said. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Get on your knees, Chowder. I mean… Chowdah.” He chuckled and glanced at the other guards as though expecting them to think his joke was hilarious.
Chowder glared at him but sunk to his knees. He was nearly seven feet tall, so even on his knees, his face was even with Desmond’s shoulders and neck. He was nowhere’s near close enough to get Desmond’s cock in his mouth.
As Desmond dropped his own pants, Chowder slunk lower and lower. In the end he laid on his back, propping himself up with his arms, a position that made his pecs bulge. Desmond felt weak and cold, but he was glad no one was looking at his own body, which was skinny and trembling with anxiety. He strained to spread his legs wide enough to straddle Chowder’s chest. He wanted to touch him, but Desmond was still nervous about this — if there was one ironclad rule of prison life that nobody ever broke, it was that slim weaklings like Desmond did not top massive alpha thugs like Chowder.
“Yeah, swallow it, Chowdah!”
“Throat him down, Talley!”
“Just foh’ the recahd, I’m doin’ this cuz I want to,” Chowder said. He spat on Desmond’s dick without touching it. “I could say no. These mothahfuckahs ain’t got proof I agreed to nothin’. And I done it before. Not in prison of couhse, but back in the day, me and my boys shared some dome on the downlow. Ain’t no shame in that-“
“Less gabbin’, more swallin’ nuts!”
“Mollywop him, Talley!”
Chowder glared at the guards, but he sighed, and seemed to decide that just going for it was the best way to get started. The longer he drew it out, the more they were going to tease him. He held Desmond’s shaft with his fingertips, like a disgusting snake. Then at last he opened his mouth, took a deep breath and closed his lips around the tip of Desmond’s dick.
He gagged even before his tongue touched it. He closed his eyes, and his entire muscular chest roiled with disgust, but he didn’t slow down even a bit. He let the rest of Desmond’s dick slide deeper even as his eyes frantically darted around as though looking for a way to escape. Desmond’s pubes enveloped his nose.
Almost immediately Desmond felt a surge of pride and confidence. He felt better than he had since coming to prison, and even before that. He pushed his dick in even deeper down Chowder’s tight throat, ignoring the angry look in Chowder’s baby blues. A tight, squeezing warmth spread through his senses.
“Come on, make more spit,” Desmond said, making the guards laugh. “You’ve gotten dome before. You know how to do it. Make it wet.” He wanted to call Chowder his bitch, but he thought that might be a step too far for the mountainous Bostonian.
Chowder did as he was told, even as his nostrils flared and his eyes filled with hostility. He choked up a mountain of saliva — since he was such a huge man, he produced a truly copious torrent of spit — that dripped down his chin and into his bare crotch. His chest muscles became soaked and goopy.
A shudder of desire ran through Desmond’s body as he gripped Chowder’s broad shoulders. His inhibitions melted away. Chowder was crisscrossed with scars and tattoos, including a scattering of bullet wounds on his back. Desmond reached down to caress his body, savoring the feel of his rippling muscles and their firmness beneath his touch.
That made precum leak from the tip of his dick, which reawakened a torrent of sputtered gagging from Chowder. It sent a frisson up Desmond’s spine. The guards laughed and clapped, again hooting and hollering like they were watching a strip show.
“Suck that dick/suck it like I ain’t rich/suck it like a bitch/suck it till you sick/Like you ain’t nevuh turn a trick/Yeah, suck that dick”
One of the guards was rapping; Desmond wasn’t hip enough to know for sure whether he was freestyling or repeating a popular song. It sounded rehearsed though. Maybe a Macky P song.
Chowder pretended it didn’t bother him, but Desmond could feel him bristling at the teasing. It was funny how Desmond could sense Chowder’s reactions through his muscles’ twitching and the way his throat clenched around Desmond’s spasming cock, like Desmond could read Chowder’s mind through his body. Chowder arched his back as he nestled his nose deep in Desmond’s crotch, easily deep-throating every inch of Desmond’s cock. His new position meant his ass rose in the air.
Desmond lusted after it. He couldn’t believe he was going to get to plow Chowder in that ass, and he wondered if Chowder had ever done it before. He said he shared dome with his baystater buddies on the downlow, but could they have done anal too? He tried to reach but Chowder was too tall for Desmond to reach his ass with his dick in Chowder’s mouth.
“Okay, you said you’ll lick my ass, right?” Desmond asked, remembering that suddenly. His voice was huffy and gaspy because he could feel the early burgeonings of his orgasm surging through his body. He wanted to drag this out though.
Chowder pulled off his dick. Thin tendrils of spit connected his greenish face to Desmond’s cockshaft. Chowder grumbled. “Fo’ five seconds, that’s all I agreed to.”
Officer Crabgut laughed. “That’s just a minimum, Chowder. You can lick his ass as long as you want. We got all night.”
“No!” Chowder snapped down over the chortles of the other guards, who all cackled up the serious look on Chowder’s face.
Desmond turned around and bent over as though he was going to get plowed, as that was the only position that raised his ass high enough for Chowder to lick it. Chowder looked away, breathed deeply through his mouth and closed his eyes.
He dove between those cheeks and slammed his tongue in. He was so forceful — and his tongue was so big — that it almost hurt. Chowder rimmed him more aggressively than anyone had ever rimmed him before, and Desmond got the impression that Chowder had never done it before, not even on a girl. Chowder definitely enjoyed receiving rimjobs from his bitch and he always demanded more tongue-in-ass action, but since Chowder was so much bigger than Sammi, he needed as much tongue-penetration as possible, as deep and as hard as possible. Now Chowder’s cock-sized tongue shoved into Desmond’s ass and explored there, hesitatingly as Desmond’s ass-juices smeared over Chowder’s square-jawed face.
“Five! Four! “
But Desmond then felt a ripple of pleasure emanating up his back as Chowder’s tongue battered his prostate. Chowder moaned into his ass and gagged without slowing down. Desmond’s eyes rolled back in his head as pleasure walloped his petite frame. Chowder’s tongue sucked every drop of grime out of his ass, even as Chowder himself sputtered and choked on it.
“Three! Two! …”
The guards conspicuously stopped counting, but Chowder pulled away from Desmond’s ass anyway. He spat on the linoleum shower floor. He wiped his face off with one hand, and his chin waggled but he kept it together. He sniffed, pointedly ignoring the guards as they cheered. He glanced over and saw one of the guards had bared his hairy ass — extremely hairy, nearly gorilla-like — and winked his asshole in Chowder’s direction.
“If you enjoyed that, give Officer Torelli a try! He got all the ass-hair you could eat, boi! He be a ass-buffet for ya!”
Chowder grimaced and looked away. He sighed as he stroked Desmond’s dick with one meaty callused hand. It was the worst handjob of Desmond’s life, but it was also somehow the greatest, its lack of rhythm and rough texture sending shockwaves of bliss through Desmond’s body while slowing down his arousal enough that he was no longer ready to blow his load.
“Time for the ass, Chowder!”
“Give up the booty!”
Chowder snarled at the guards. He turned around and bent over. His initial position was laughably impossible — he simply put his hands on the floor, sticking his ass in the air so high Desmond’s short little body couldn’t even reach it. Desmond had to stand on his toes to touch Chowder’s asscheeks and tap them, signaling him to lower himself.
“Best get down lower, or we gonna need a winch and a pulley to do this right.”
Chowder dropped to all fours. He had a nice plump ass, just enough padding for Desmond’s taste — a remnant of when Chowder was fat-bodied in his pre-prison life. There was a tattoo on his left asscheek, an arrow pointing to his asshole and the words ‘Cop Kissing Zone’.
Desmond separated those thick blubbering cheeks; at first it was difficult because Chowder instinctively flexed his cheeks, keeping them tight, but he forced himself to relax. His crack was lined with sweat-matted hair. Each of Chowder’s asscheeks was bigger than Desmond’s head, making Desmond feel truly tiny by comparison. He took a deep breath and pushed his dick in.
Chowder bit his lip so hard it drew blood. He breathed through his nose and snorted like a rampaging bull. His face turned bright red from both pain and humiliation. The muscles of his back tensed, lines flexing and curving, distorting the tattoos as he stretched.
“Lookit him take it! Like a bitch!”
“Damn I wish we could fuckin’ tape this. Put it on the Internet, make a goddamn fortune.”
“You bettah not!” Chowder said, but for once his voice was not bristling with confidence and machismo. It sounded like a whine, not a threat. He hung his head.
Desmond hadn’t topped anyone since before he came to prison, so this was a refreshing experience for him. He pushed his dick in deeper and deeper, using copious lube (which was provided by Officer Crabgut — that seemed sweet, Desmond thought, he didn’t need to do that; prisoners usually used hog fat from the prison kitchen, so Crabgut was being nice by providing actual lube). Chowder’s ass was clearly intact, so tight that Desmond struggled to shove every inch in his hole.
Chowder was on all fours, so the more powerfully Desmond slammed into his ass, the more Chowder was forced to lower himself. He winced and dropped his hips, making it easier for Desmond to plow him harder. To his credit, Chowder managed to take every inch even though it was obviously difficult for him.
That hairy Italian guard Torelli took his dick out, wagging it in front of Chowder’s face. Desmond couldn’t hear his words because he was overwhelmed by his incipient climax and the boisterous laughter of the other guards drowned out the hairy guard, but it was clear he offered Chowder a taste of his dick. Chowder frowned and kept his eyes pointed away, even as the guard followed his face with his massive, uncut Italian cock.
Eventually Desmond was ramming with all his might on top of Chowder, his feet no longer on the floor at all. Chowder’s broad muscles rippled beneath Desmond’s face, and he licked the salty sweat that beaded on his skin. Chowder writhed beneath him.
His balls slapped on Chowder’s chunky asscheeks, making them jiggle and ripple. Desmond felt like a weird circus novelty, like a midget plowing a strongman to a shocked crowd. Chowder panted like a dog beneath him.
“God-damn, man,” Chowder said, his fingers and toes curling as though trying to dig into the linoleum floor of the prison shower.
“Yeah! Get ‘im good, Desmond!”
“Lookit his little body on top of Chowder. Looks like a kid whose big bro is lettin’ him beat him up.”
Desmond blushed at the guards’ closeness. They were peering into Chowder’s ass as though they had never seen a butt before and weren’t sure what was actually happening. Having an audience was nerve-wracking for Desmond.
His orgasm came on too soon. Desmond was disappointed, but not surprised, as Chowder’s ass was too tight and too perfect to resist it for long. As he felt it arising deep within him, Desmond wasn’t even sure how long it had been — it felt like just a few minutes, but at the same time, it felt like hours. Surely Chowder would have complained if it had taken that long though, he thought. The guards would have gotten bored.
The most powerful orgasm of his life ran through him. Desmond’s entire body shook and trembled, and he moaned so loud he blushed as the guards erupted in a mixture of embarrassed grunts and excited shouts. Some peered closer, while others looked away.
Cum sprayed within Chowder’s ass, a thick and copious loud that filled up every inch of his insides. Chowder moaned too, matching Desmond’s voice, and he buried his face in his forearm. Then he grabbed the blue baseball cap he had thrown on the ground, and he buried his face in that instead.
One of the guards pulled the cap away and looked Chowder in the eye. Chowder’s red face was tense and a few tears of pain and embarrassment drifted down his cheek. Jet after jet of creamy jizz flowed into him and dripped down his thighs.
“Who’s the pussy-faced bitch now?” the guard asked. “Hope the party was worth it.”
Chowder snarled and grabbed his hat back as his ass clenched again around Desmond’s dick. Exhausted, Desmond fell back. His ass plopped out of Chowder’s ass, and Chowder breathed a sigh of relief. He stood and blushed as the guards laughed at the river of cum dripping down his trunk-like, tattooed thighs.
“Hey!” Chowder barked. “We said no bringin’ it up again after it’s done.”
“Ain’t done yet,” Officer Crabgut said. “It ain’t done until you both get your clothes on. Whatchoo think, Chowder? Was the party worth it?”
Chowder hurriedly threw his underwear on, wincing when he accidentally touched his ass and reawakened a torrent of sensitive pain. He put his jumpsuit on and then hurriedly slipped into his shoes when the guards made it clear they counted that as well. “Yeah,” Chowder said. “The pahty was totally worth it.”
Desmond slow-walked it, both because he didn’t mind the guards teasing Chowder and because he was too overwhelmed to really focus on anything but the aftershocks of orgasmic pleasure wracking his body. But when Chowder was done and he saw Desmond wasn’t, he shot him a few dirty looks. Soon they were both dressed. Desmond still felt weak-limbed from the power of his climax, and he could still taste Chowder’s back-sweat in his mouth.
True to their word, the guards stopped teasing as soon as both inmates were dressed again. There was still some scattered laughter, especially when Chowder winced and skipped a step while he walked towards the door behind Officer Crabgut.
“Hey, if you want — and you don’t think Sammi will mind — you can plow me later. As hard as you want,” Desmond said. “If that, y’know, makes you feel better.”
“I know I can.” Chowder’s voice dripped with menace. “I will.”
Desmond smiled. That promised to be almost as good as what had just happened. He couldn’t wait.

The Superhero Bodyguard

Teddy meets up with a studly bodyguard at a superhero’s compound, which means he’s in for an alpha-male ride he’ll never forget! Brick Marble is a super-soldier who works for a scientist and adventurer, but when he needs to get his rocks off, he’s all too willing to let Teddy take a swing on his meat.

This super-masculine adventure will supercharge the cockles of your manhood!

Read it now for free as an ebook or below!

Teddy was catsitting for a friend named Creosote. He had taken it on as a favor. He didn’t really want to catsit. It was embarrassing. He had rearranged his entire schedule for the weekend to take care of this stupid cat.
He didn’t even like cats. He thought maybe Creosote would have a nice house, and it was, sort of, but it was also built like a necromancer’s lair — all gloomy and dark, gargoyles, evil-faced Asian statues, creepy paintings of old white men and spooky dreamcatchers lining the walls. The decor was not a surprise because Creosote was, in fact, a necromancer. So it was an odd house, creepy-looking, seemingly haunted though Creosote said he had gotten rid of all the Apache ghosts that used to be here. That was cold comfort for Teddy, who was scared of ghosts. It seemed silly to risk a haunted house encounter just to watch a cat for a few days. If the cat could survive the ghosts and the vampires and everything else that came through here, why did it need a sitter?
He sighed and flopped into a big chair. I wonder if Creosote’s daughter has some pot laying around. He was already bored. The cat ignored him. Teddy went to the window to consider taking a walk — it was too hot today, but Teddy was trying to walk for an hour every day no matter.
A big, burly man come out to the herb garden behind the main house. He was a broad-shouldered Winnebago of a man, a strapping stack of power and bulging muscles. He had a squarish jaw and a rather harsh face, stony, stark, staid. He plodded along with a light foot, like a man a tenth of his size. He wore a black polo shirt that seemed too small for him, his biceps straining against the fabric, and he wore tight jeans. Between the clothes, the mullet and the Led Zeppelin tattoo on his arm, he looked like he time-traveled here from the 70s.
He presumably worked for the super-scientist next-door. Teddy came out of the house to say hello — it would be polite, he thought, to introduce himself to the neighbors.
When Teddy got just twenty feet away or so, the mulleted blond turned around and cast a hostile stare at Teddy. His upper lip quivered.
“Who’re you? No costume, so you had better not be a supervillain. I got a direct line to the Villains’ League, man. If you’re arching Dr. Adventure out of costume, you’re going to be in so much trouble-“
“No, no, I’m not a supervillain. I’m a friend of Creosote’s. I’m just catsitting.”
The blond lit a cigarette. He eyed Teddy closely as though he didn’t entirely believe his story. But he nodded, sighed and flared his nostrils. “Yeah. Creosote said he’d have a friend house-sit.”
“That’s me.”
“You lookin’ for Dr. Adventure? He’s getting his… a medical procedure done. He’s in Thailand.”
“He went to Thailand for a medical procedure?”
“It’s cheaper,” the blond said. “I’m his bodyguard, Brick Marble. What do you want?”
“Oh, well… an autograph, but since he’s gone, I guess I can’t,” Teddy said. He put his autograph book and head shot away. He batted his eyelashes at Brick. “So, you’re a bodyguard?”
“Yeah.”
Teddy cleared his throat. “You wanna earn some extra money?”
Brick stared at Teddy. He couldn’t tell if he was trying to decide if Teddy was serious or if he was hostile or if he was just thinking about it. Then Brick crossed his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath. He glowered at Teddy as though he already knew what Teddy was going to offer.
“Is that… ? Are you… gonna punch me?” Teddy’s voice sounded weak and tinny in comparison to Brick’s baritone bravado.
Brick frowned. “No! No, man, that’s… Yes. I know what you’re gonna ask, and I’ve never agreed, but I need some money and at least you’re not Shore Love — that’s this freak I know, he’s been after me for years,” Brick said. “If I let him do it, he’ll never stop. So, fine… six hundred dollars.” He sighed. “You can jerk me off. I’ll ram you in the ass if you want. No reacharound, no kissing. Got it?”
“Uh, okay.”
“Good. No looking me in the eye either,” Brick said. “C’mon. Get outta my herb garden. We’ll do it in the garage. I like plowing on the hood of my car.”
Brick walked briskly into the garage. He walked stiffly and awkwardly, like he either already had a hardon or was just plain awkward in a civilian setting. He didn’t look military, exactly, but he did carry himself like a long-time soldier who struggled with normal life.
Teddy followed him. Brick closed the garage door, then led him to an old classic car, cherry-red. Brick hefted his heavy body onto the hood, leaned back and shimmied his jeans down. He had a nice, plump body, covered in scars — relics of a life as a bodyguard and spy, presumably — and a six-pack more perfect than any Teddy had seen in a long time.
Teddy nervously approached Brick, who sat on the hood of his car and smoked his cigarette. Brick leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. It seemed he didn’t intend to be involved in this beyond allowing it to happen.
His muscles writhed beneath Teddy’s touch. He wore classic white briefs, the old-fashioned kind that Teddy hadn’t seen anyone under sixty wear in years. That made him laugh as he pulled them down. They were immaculate white, and they perfectly outlined the shaft of his cock.
“Shut up,” Brick said like he knew why Teddy was laughing. “They’re standard-issue for field operatives.”
“Sure, sure, they’re hot,” Teddy said. He didn’t mean to come across as sarcastic, but that’s how Brick took it. He really did think they were hot — in a kind of a silly way.
Brick sighed and shook his head as he rolled his eyes. He stood there as though waiting for a doctor to pull his dick out. He had his hands on his hips, tapping his feet. Teddy liked to go slow, both because it was more intense and because he liked to tease big macho alphas like Brick. Buck let Teddy pull his briefs off, and a fat cut cock popped out. His meat was limp still, dangling like an uncooked sausage between his legs. His briefs were sweat-soaked and clung to his thick thighs, making it difficult to pull them all the way down. Eventually Brick got frustrated and ripped them off himself, tearing the waistband. He tossed the useless underwear away. “Damn it!”
“Hmmmm…” Teddy blushed and planted his tongue on the tip of Brick’s cock. That made Brick’s entire body ripple, his muscles flexing and relaxing in turn as he bit his lip and looked away nonchalantly. Again, he seemed to want to be as little involved in this as possible. He lay there on the hood of his car as Teddy kissed and teased his dicktip. Brick crossed his arms over his chest, making his pecs bulge. He scowled.
Teddy had no sooner gotten a taste when Brick jumped to attention, knocking Teddy off the car. He slid off the hood.
He darted towards the door, grabbing the gun concealed in his pile of clothes on the floor. “Someone’s coming. Stay here.”
Brick ran to the side-door of the garage. Teddy’s heart raced as he followed. Brick waved him back, but Teddy didn’t want to stop. He wanted to know what was happening. Maybe it was an exciting super-bodyguard adventure; it could have been a monster, a ghost, a demon, a supervillain and his army — Teddy wasn’t going to miss this.
If Brick realized that he was naked, he gave no indications of it. Maybe he was used to running security operations with his balls flapping in the breeze. He ran out into the front yard of the compound, gun drawn, cock flopping half-hard against his thighs. “Ah, Phantom Fist, what are you doing here?” Brick said.
“Where is your employer, sir?” came a deep, haughty-sounding, educated voice. Teddy couldn’t see where the voice came from. “I must dispute his latest bill. For this was not my-“
“He ain’t here, Phantom. You know those charges are set by the Villains’ League. You can’t just come in here blowing up antiques and expect to get away with it-“
“Antiques my ass! First of all, Mr. Marble, those antiques are entirely fictional-“
“They were not. They were Dr. Adventure’s father’s and they were worth a lot of money. They were insured.”
“Insurance fraud and you know it!”
“You weren’t cleared for Level Seven doom, Phantom. You’re not even his official arch right now-“
“Don’t talk to me about League business, Brick Marble. I know the rules,” Phantom Fist said. He wore a fine purple suit that concealed his muscular body. He wore no sleeves, which he didn’t need because his arms were invisible. He paused and bit his lip. “Why are you naked, Marble? I am not one to pooh-pooh the many benefits to remaining skyclad, but-“
“None of your business, Phantom,” Brick said. He looked down at his cock as though he had only just now realized he was outside naked, with a half-hard dick. “Get outta here. Doc’s not home.”
As they continued to argue, Teddy crept out of the garage to get a better look. He wasn’t in any danger — the Villains’ League set down strict rules to be sure that the battle between heroes and villains never got too bloody. Teddy was a civilian, which meant Phantom Fist couldn’t hurt him, and Phantom Fist was a high-ranking operative, so he wouldn’t break the rules.
“You are a thick-skulled scoundrel, Mr. Marble. Your muscles have clogged your brain like cerebral cholesterol-“
“You’re a pretentious twit, Clayton.”
“Mr. Marble! My name is Phantom Fist! You know very well that calling me by my real name during an arching is a violation, and one about which I am fully prepared to file a complaint! I know-“
“This isn’t a valid arching! Dr. Adventure’s not here! Go to Thailand if you wanna arch him — oh, wait, no don’t, you can’t arch him when he’s receiving medical treatment.”
“Liposuction?”
“None of your business.”
“Hair plugs? Both? It’s both, isn’t it?” Phantom Fist sucked in his breath. “No, wait, don’t tell me — is it a penile enlargement?”
“It’s a necessary medical procedure!” Marble shouted.
The more angry he got, the more Brick Marble’s plump asscheeks quivered. He seemed to have not a shred of fat on those cheeks, Teddy thought, they were hard like over-inflated soccer balls. They dimpled and flexed as Brick gesticulated and shouted at Phantom Fist. Teddy was just outside the garage, concealed by a shrubbery. He watched and stroked himself. Brick’s curving back muscles bulged, making Teddy shudder with desire. He couldn’t wait to get back to business.
The argument was only resolved when a tall, spindly-bodied robot appeared. It was powder-blue, and it was named Assistant. It came out onto the lawn, buzzing past Teddy, and beeped at Brick Marble.
“Thank you, Assistant! You’re correct. Phantom Fist, you’re not technically Dr. Adventure’s arch right now. That means you’re trespassing and I can call the cops.”
“Oh, the great Brick Marble, reduced to calling the cops to get rid of the kids on his lawn.”
“You’re no kid, Clayton. You’re older than me.”
“Fine. I’ll leave. I’ll leave you to… make love to your toolbox, or whatever men like you do,” Phantom Fist said. He walked a few feet away, then bent down. His right arm was invisible — hence the name — so it wasn’t obvious what he was doing until the tarragon plants on the edge of Brick’s herb garden were ripped out of the ground. His invisible hand pulled them out.
“Hey!”
Phantom Fist threw the tarragon, roots and all, at Brick. “You let your tarragon grow too leggy, Mr. Marble. It gets bitter.” He spat that last word vituperatively. Out of everything he had said so far, this was the only thing that he sounded genuinely upset about. He stalked away from the compound.
Brick watched him go. Then he muttered to Assistant, “Gardening people are always talking about things getting leggy. I’ve never figured out what it means. When a girl is leggy, that’s a good thing.”
Assistant beeped at him.
“Is that what it means? How do I control that? I thought tarragon was supposed to be bitter.”
More beeping from Assistant.
“I should never have downloaded that French cookbook into your databanks,” Brick said. He turned to face Assistant, his erect penis nearly touching the robot’s body.
Assistant scooted away and beeped at him once more.
“It’s just a cock, Assistant. What do you care? You’re a robot.” Brick walked away, returning to the garage. He stopped when he saw Teddy hiding there behind a bush. “I told you to stay in there, not trample on my rhododendron.” He grabbed Teddy and dragged him into the garage — Teddy didn’t fight back, of course, but Brick dragged him by the arm just the same.
When they got inside, Teddy giggled.”Will you give me a ride?” He leapt onto Brick’s back and kissed his shoulder. Brick winced and shuddered. He rode him like that, piggy-back, all the way to his car.
“Damn, give me a warning next time,” he said. He paused and tensed his back muscles. “Get your dick off my back, man. I’m not doing that. You can jerk me off and I’ll ram you, but no way you’re dry-humping me.”
“Oh… It won’t be dry-“
“Even worse, get off,” he said. His back muscles rippled beneath Teddy as he dropped off the rear of Brick’s naked body. He let himself slide as slowly as he could, so his face drifted through Brick’s fleshy asscheeks.
When Brick didn’t complain or stop him, Teddy stayed where he was. He bent Brick over his own car, and dove his face between Brick’s asscheeks.
“Tongue only. No fingers,” Brick said. Then he paused and shuddered. “Okay, one finger. You can put one finger in. A pinkie.”
“Really?”
“Don’t tell anyone. I like the butt stuff,” Brick said. He was facing away from Teddy, his blond mullet shaking, but Teddy could tell that Brick blushed a bright red.
Teddy had had no expectation that Brick would allow anything like that. Teddy didn’t even normally ask about fingering the men he seduced. But a lot of guys were into pegging nowadays. On the other hand, Teddy knew there was a big difference between getting a girl to stick a dildo in your ass and getting paid to let a man stick a finger in your ass.
Brick was so huge that his massive asscheeks were warm and had plenty of real estate to explore. Teddy loved it. He teased his tongue up and down the sweat-choked crack of his ass, while Teddy’s pinkie finger teased the rim of his hole. Those cheeks tightened around Teddy so hard they were like vise grips that wouldn’t let go. Teddy gently kissed and licked both cheeks and played with the fine blond hairs there.
A loud, car-rattling roar escaped from Brick’s lips. He shuddered, his broad back undulating beneath Teddy’s free hand. Brick’s fingers tightened into claws as his face turned red.
Teddy slipped his pinkie finger in, and Brick’s whole body perked up. Brick tensed. “Oh god, shit, yeah!” Brick’s face turned tense and red. He dropped his chest onto the hood of his car, giving Teddy even better access to his ass. Brick squirmed as Teddy’s tongue fleetingly explored his hole as well.
Then Teddy’s other hand roamed around to Brick’s cock, which was trapped beneath his body and the car. Brick lifted his hips up so Teddy could jack him off while fingering and licking his ass.
“God damn, man, you got a nice tongue back there,” Brick said. He bit his lip. “Damn… How many fingers is that?”
Teddy giggled. “Just one. Just my pinkie.”
Brick groaned and roared like he didn’t quite believe it but didn’t want to challenge it. Teddy loved the feeling of power he had. His pinkie finger — not even the whole thing, but about a third of his pinkie finger — was enough to control Brick’s entire massive body, which was easily four times Teddy’s size. Every time Teddy so much as shifted his finger a tiny bit, Brick’s muscles all flexed at once and he let out a lusty groan.
“Ah, shit… Ah, shit…” Brick grunted. “You had better not tell Creosote about this.”
Teddy giggled. “Creosote won’t judge you, you know.”
“I know. He’ll tell me how supportive he is,” Brick said. “That’s even worse. I’d rather have him call me a pervert so I can kick his ass.” He paused and blushed again. “You can add a second finger.”
But before Teddy did, Brick turned around again. He grimaced and howled in pain as he rotated his body around Teddy’s pinkie finger. But he sighed and his dick twitched too, spewing precum even though Teddy wasn’t even touching it now.
Brick laid down on his back on the hood of his car. He lifted up his trunk-like thighs, giving Teddy easy access to his entire crotch and his ass. Teddy slipped his ring finger into Brick’s ass, just the first half-an-inch or so.
“Damn it!” Brick screamed. He pounded on his pectoral muscles, which pulsated beneath his fists. “Oh god, stick it in! Ram me!”
Teddy kept one hand lazily stroking Brick’s cock, while his tongue and his other hand explored his ass. Brick responded like he had never felt anything so powerful. He squirmed atop his car hood, especially when Teddy licked a trail from his ass to his throbbing cock.
His manhood disappeared down Teddy’s throat. It was more than a foot long, but Teddy had been practicing jerking off big men for a long time. He could swallow almost anything. He managed to get his nose all the down into Brick’s pubic bush.
“Damn… Not even Mol can jerk this good,” Brick said through gritted teeth. If it weren’t obvious he was aroused and horny, it would look like Brick was angry: eyes slitted, grinding his teeth, muscles tensed and remaining so, his whole body shaking as he endured Teddy’s dome and fingering.
“Is that your girlfriend?” Teddy asked. He put his lips on Brick’s cock and moved up and down with his tongue out, slathering copious spit on his shaft, but he didn’t actually jerk it just yet. Brick squealed and shuddered. Teddy knew men loved being teased like that, and Brick was no exception: he writhed and grunted, moaning in agony when he shifted his weight on the fingers in his asshole.
“No. She’s just… this assassin I know,” he said. His eyes were closed. “I love her.” That made him blush. Teddy got the impression he had never meant to say that out loud. “I mean… I don’t love her. I love fucking her.”
“Uh-huh,” Teddy said. “I’m going to sit on your cock now.”
“I mean, she’s a total bitch. She’s tried to kill me, I dunno, fourteen times, I think. She killed John Bonham just to piss me off,” Brick said. “She’s a cold-hearted murderer.”
Teddy removed his fingers from Brick’s ass, making the big man sigh grandly. His muscles all relaxed at once. Tremendous relief flowed through his veins like lemonade, and Brick had never been this calm.
That meant that, when Teddy mounted him to sit on his cock, it was like climbing a warm clay statue, both firm and soft at once. Brick did not assist him at all, and his skin was sweaty enough that Teddy kept slipping. Teddy didn’t really mind because it gave him plenty of opportunities to squeal and squirm all over Brick’s broad chest muscles. Brick completely ignored him and just kept talking about that girl.
“I mean, she’ll work for anyone. She worked for Hunter about a week after surviving him hiring a different assassin to kill her,” Brick said. “And she’s got a villain of her own — he’s this lawyer who… Nevermind, I’m not allowed to say. She’s got a bad guy she’s in love with. She’ll never leave him for me.”
“You poor baby,” Teddy said. “It sounds like you really love her.”
Brick grunted in a disapproving way, but he didn’t argue it directly. “Nobody could love her. She’s not capable of receiving love, man.”
“Uh-huh.” Teddy licked the sweat off Brick’s chest as he lowered his ass onto Brick’s cock. When it slipped into his tight hole, they both gasped. Brick bit his lip and suppressed a moan, which turned into a loud, almost angry grunt.
“You ever know people like that?” Brick asked. He wrapped both of his powerful arms around Teddy’s body, pulling him down on his cock slowly but inexorably, ignoring Teddy’s frantic wriggling. “You know? Someone who might be the most beautiful person in the world but she just insists on making herself act as ugly as possible, like she’s scared to be loved.”
“Yep…”
“You alright? I’m not goin’ easy on ya,” Brick said, “Cuz I wanna get this over with. You want me to be more gentle?”
“God no,” Teddy said, his voice breathless and pinched. His ass slowly adjusted to the fat cock inside him. “Ram me as hard as you can, please? Ram me, Brick Marble! Destroy my ass!”
He chuckled, the motion of which forced Teddy the rest of the way down on his cock. It was deep in his ass, throbbing, sending waves of pleasure through Teddy’s limbs.
“Alright, nancyboy,” he said. “You can tell me to stop. But you might have to bite me to get my attention.” He pinned Teddy’s back against his chest, with one iron-hard forearm in front of Teddy’s face so he could bite if he wanted to. He curled his legs around Teddy’s ankles, pinning him in position there, impaled on Brick’s cock.
Then he took a deep breath and used every muscle in his body to lift Teddy up while flexing his hips backwards, then slamming Teddy back down on his cock. Agony exploded in Teddy’s ass, and he had to suppress a scream. It lasted only a moment, however, before Brick picked him back up and potent relief flooded Teddy’s body.
That, of course, lasted just as brief a moment before he was unceremoniously shoved back down on Brick’s cock. Teddy fell totally limp — except for his own cock — and submitted. This was the part of rough trade service that he absolutely loved, he thought, being dominated and utterly controlled by an alpha stud like Brick Marble.
“Aw, fuck…” Brick grunted directly into Teddy’s ear.
Teddy had no idea how long this lasted. He was supported entirely by Brick’s body, so Teddy sensed nothing but the sweat-dappled scars of Brick’s chest beneath his back and the massive cock slamming into his ass. Brick kept Teddy pinned atop his body, groaning with each slap of his cock into Teddy’s ass.
When Teddy finally had the presence of mind to jack himself off, it was difficult to control his hands, which wanted to flail uselessly above Brick’s head. He managed to stroke his dick, while he leaned his face to the side and nuzzled Brick’s blond beard hairs and the long mullet whose hairs were just barely reachable by Teddy’s tongue.
Almost as soon as Teddy touched his dick, he triggered his own orgasm. That, in turn, made his asshole clench as he rode Brick’s dick, and that sent Brick over the edge as well. They both screamed, Teddy’s flamboyant alto drowned out by Brick’s resonant, booming bass. His sweaty chest muscles rattled beneath Teddy’s back.
Cum flew over Teddy’s belly and into his ass. Teddy moaned, writhing within Brick’s powerful biceps, which held him in place so every drop of Brick’s load sprayed directly into his body. Brick sighed, but the cum just kept spurting inside him.
His hot, creamy load filled Teddy up, but still it continued. Teddy felt luxurious warmth seeping through his body, a continuous flow of hot manly juices trickling into every corner of his flesh. Teddy melted into Brick’s muscles, his orgasm making Teddy so weak he could do nothing more than fall back on Brick’s body.
At last it was over. When Teddy tried to move — to alleviate the awesome pressure on his prostate — it caused a reawakening of his own orgasm as well as Brick’s. Brick hugged him tighter again, and even kissed him on the ear, sucking on his earlobe with those big, plump lips.
He shifted his hips, grinding his limp dick within Teddy’s ass, making a moist plopping sound as cum dripped out and onto the hood of Brick’s car.
“Okay, you’re done, you had your fill,” Brick said with a practiced, forced groan. “I did it. Pay up. You talked me into it. Don’t tell anybody or I’ll never get left alone.” He snarled and bucked, pushing Teddy off him. He glowered. “C’mon, man, don’t try and cheat me.”
Teddy nodded. He was still breathless, gasping for air as his ass recovered. He pulled out his checkbook and began to write it out. He watched Brick wipe himself down with some paper towels, gingerly cleaning off his cock. He looked like he had wiped his body with paper towels before.
With the check half-written, Teddy kneeled behind Brick and giggled. He placed the check on the shelf-like upper buttocks of Brick’s ass, which made Brick groan and flare his nostrils. Despite his annoyance, Brick allowed it. Teddy used his ass as a shelf while he signed the check.
Then Brick grabbed the check off him. “Okay. You’re done, man. Go on. Go back to Creosote’s house. Take care of that fucking cat.”
“Yes, sir, Brick.” Teddy said. He didn’t wipe himself off because he wanted to have that sense memory and the scent of Brick’s body to remind himself of what had just happened.
He watched Brick try to fix the herb garden — he was still shirtless, body turning golden-brown in the brilliant sunlight. Eventually, Teddy fell into an exhausted and satisfied sleep.
His last thought before slumber was to wonder where Phantom Fist was and what he was doing. Teddy had been in the mood for a handsome villain before this ridiculous cat-sitting obligation appeared on his calendar.
He could track down Phantom Fist and have fun. A lot of fun indeed.

The Casanova

Tedi is in for a wild one with the village casanova Giuseppe! Giuseppe is in trouble for seducing another maiden, which is gonna give Tedi a chance to get in on his behind.

Can Giuseppe handle this traditional punishment for being a ladysman?

Read it now as an ebook! Or read the whole thing below!

The Casanova

Teodoro — Tedi to his friends — was about to start putting makeup on for his show tonight when the sound of a brouhaha outside drew his attention. He didn’t want to be bothered by whatever it was — almost certainly a girl having lost her virginity, which was what the local townsfolk had been most concerned about for a long time.
That concern did not extend to Tedi. He was not bothered by the purity of this town’s women. At the moment, he dressed in nothing more than plain white (or off-white, now) britches, but before the show started, he’d put on a wig and one of his stunning diaphanous dresses, making him look like a graceful and elegant woman. His slender upper body glistened with the cream he had just finished rubbing into it.
He hurried to the door to see what was happening. When he flung it open, he saw a man and a woman, about to knock on the door.
The man was naked, awkwardly bent over so the woman could grip the thick mop of black hair on his head. She held on tight and he flailed, trying to use his hands to both push her off and to at the same time cover his bare crotch. Tedi felt a surge of heat — that was Giuseppe, the handsomest man in the village. He had had an irrepressible crush on Giuseppe ever since spying him swimming naked in the river with his friends. He had hidden in a tree and watched their dicks flop, muscles flexing as they roughhoused in the water.
But that had been from a distance, not right up front. Now he was here in front of Tedi’s door — stark naked — and Tedi’s knees went weak just looking at him and his fat swinging cock.
He had a perfectly flat belly with a beefy chest, all of it covered in fine black hairs. He was young, just eighteen, so his skin was smooth and the chest hair wasn’t quite a dense tangle of coarse fur yet; it was still silken and it ended at his shoulders. His dick was slightly visible through the gaps between his fingers, which made Tedi’s mouth drool. Giuseppe had a square jaw with a few days’ grizzle on it and a broad nose with deep dimples that were apparent now, while he winced in pain and the old woman pulled on his hair.
“Tell him!” the old woman barked. Tedi recognized her now — Anita Colombo, Giuseppe’s aunt. She was a perpetually angry spinster who was active in the church and led the women’s group there. She was a fierce defender of female chastity, presumably because she was too bitter, old, wrinkled and nasty to get any kind of man. Her purity was unravageable.
“Hi, uh… Tedi,” Giuseppe said; his voice was pinched and tense. He winced as the woman pulled on his hair. In order to let her grip his hair, he had to stoop down low. His muscles were flexed, like he really wanted to just push her away, but of course, he couldn’t push a woman, especially an old woman who was related to him. He cleared his throat nervously. “Uh… I, I gotta ask-“
“Oh, this will take forever,” Anita snapped. She pushed him into the house past Tedi, letting go of his hair. Giuseppe tripped and landed on the floor. “My good-for-nothing nephew has put another fine feminine soul at risk, Tedi!”
“Signorina, you are upset, I can see that. Let me make you a cup of coffee-“
“I do not want any coffee. If it were only him, I could ignore it. Su vergüenza sería únicamente su propia!,” she put her hands on her hips. “But he has brought shame upon this entire family. He has been consorting with… Well, I shouldn’t say her name. I will not bring shame upon her family as well. Di lei nome deve essere un segreto…”
“Signorina-“
“Hush,” she said. “That girl is from a good family, Tedi. She has been plundered, ruined, by him! That alone would be bad enough. Jeopardizing souls like it meant nothing to him! He goes to church every week and then spends his days, and his nights, with loose female flesh, the donne troia.”
“Zia Anita, come on…” Giuseppe stood right behind Tedi, so close that Tedi could feel his body heat and sense his limp, low-hanging dick rubbing on Tedi’s own back. He had to resist the urge to start slurping on it right now in front of his dear Zia Anita.
“But that is not all. He threatens to ruin our family in this life as well as the next,” she said. Then she made the sign of the cross over her ample bosom. Gesticulating wildly, she continued, “He has plundered a girl whose grandmother knows well the olden ways! She has cursed the entire family with her evil eye! She has the worst malocchio in the village, this I know well…” Tears escaped down her chin. “You cannot escape her curse!”
At first, Tedi assumed something else was coming. Villagers here were always talking about the evil eye (malocchio), but no one took it very seriously, did they? Anita looked like she was about to faint. There must be something else.
But no, it soon became clear from the look on her face that she was terrified of the evil eye.
“Signorina, I am very sorry to hear that. But I do not know about witchcraft,” Tedi said. “I would not know how to undo the malocchio.”
“You do not need to know how. So come. I have consulted with Padre Ricardi, and I have consulted with my grandmother’s notes. I spoke with the matriarch who placed the malocchio in the first place,” she said. She shook her head and bit her lip. “I can not speak it. You must lay with the boy, as though… with a girl, as though he were a girl. You must plunder him, make him feel the shame and filthiness that that poor girl must be feeling.”
Giuseppe burst in with a nervous smile. “I don’t think that’s how she feels, Aunt Anita. We’re in love. I was going to propose matrimonio to her-“
“She will never marry you! She is a high-class woman! She will not marry a man with broad shoulders, callused fingers and sporco sotto le unghie!” Anita said, throwing her hands in the air. She glared at Tedi. “Will you do this? You are the only man in the village who would undo this particular curse.”
Tedi stammered over himself. Logically, he wanted to say no; he was offended that she assumed he’d want to, but on the other hand, Giuseppe was the most handsome man in the village. Tedi did want to do it, even if he thought the reason for it was nonsensical. “Signorina, I… I will do it.”
“Oh, wonderful! You may make it hurt,” she said with a cruel glint in her eye. She glared at her nephew. “Egli deve soffrire molto…”
“Wait, Zia Anita, what are you talking about?” He put his hands on his hips. “He can’t treat me like a girl. I don’t have una micio-” His eyes went wide and he gasped, like he only just figured out what his aunt intended. He again covered his crotch with both hands. “Zia Anita! I can’t submit to that!”
“The curse upon you is great, mio nipote! It can only be undone this way,” she said. It sounded like she was near tears, like she was consigning her nephew to certain death.
It sounded like Giuseppe was in a similar place, and he also sniffed back tears. He trembled and shook as Tedi closed the door — it was obvious they could keep wailing like this all afternoon, so Tedi just needed to shut the door and move things along.
“Please… isn’t there any other way?” he asked, partially aiming the question at Tedi and partially aimed out the door.
“Your curse has already harmed this family! Tua cugina Valentina was stricken today with consumption!”
“Really? Dio mio!” Giuseppe turned to face Tedi before the door finally slammed shut with Anita on the other side. Tears welled up in his eyes as he ran his fingers through his thick black hair, which now was a messy tangle since his aunt had dragged him here using his hair as a handle. He blushed and stepped away from Tedi, hands still covering his crotch.
That seemed doubtful to Tedi, but Anita confirmed it through the door. It took time for consumption to appear and for it to be confirmed to be that and not a similar illness. It was entirely too early in the day for Aunt Anita to have heard confirmation that it was consumption, assuming the illness began after Giuseppe was caught with the girl. But Tedi didn’t want to point this out, and besides that, he had long ago learned that the superstitious mind would always find a way to rationalize it — Giuseppe had presumably intended to bed the girl before it actually happened, for example, so perhaps the curse reached backwards in time to cause punishment when the sin was planned but not yet executed. Perhaps Valentina would have quickly recovered if Giuseppe had decided not to take the girl’s virginity.
In any case, it was not Tedi’s responsibility to be the rational one.
Giuseppe was pale now. He kept his hands over his crotch and his muscles rippled as anxiety flowed through him. He had been to see Tedi’s show at least once, and he had reacted like any other male — aroused but ashamed of it because he knew that Tedi was a man dressed like a woman. Now though, Tedi was dressed as a man; there was no way to pretend he was a real girl.
“Get on your knees, Giuseppe,” Tedi said. His voice was flat and firm. “Your soul is going to learn a very difficult lesson today.”
Giuseppe sunk to his knees as Tedi dropped his britches. He pulled his dick out and gave it a few strokes. It was already half-hard, so it quickly swelled to full erection in front of Giuseppe’s trembling, tear-streaked face.
“Open your mouth,” Tedi said. When Giuseppe hesitated, Tedi used both hands to force his lips apart. He enjoyed touching Giuseppe’s handsome face, which was still beautiful, despite being streaked with tears, his confident charm replaced by choked terror.
He pushed his dick in, and Giuseppe gagged loudly. He sputtered and choked with just the tip of Tedi’s dick on his tongue. But he didn’t pull away or try to leave, he just submitted even as his body rejected Tedi’s shaft.
“Good! Make him choke! Everyone come listen to my nephew’s shame!”
Tedi blushed almost as red as Giuseppe — Tedi normally liked to keep a low profile. The men of this village did not easily tolerate girlie-men like Tedi, so the more attention he attracted, the more danger he was in. Tedi could never forgive himself if he didn’t take full advantage of the situation he was in though, so he didn’t slow down. If he was exiled as a result, he thought, he could find a new town that needed a feminine dancer. He could even move to Rome.
Giuseppe choked up so much spit it made Tedi laugh. He had never seen someone produce so much saliva while swallowing dick — it seemed he tried not to swallow any of the moisture in his mouth, like it was contaminated with cock, so he wanted to spit it out. But Tedi didn’t remove his dick, so Giuseppe couldn’t close his mouth, which meant he couldn’t actually spit; he could only drool and drip saliva from his lips.
There were more people around now. Tedi heard them gather outside the front of his house. Women muttered among themselves, either laughing at Giuseppe’s superstition or silently praying to protect themselves from the malocchio. Men jeered and muttered insults as they scattered around the house looking for open windows (which they wouldn’t find because Tedi always kept his curtains closed). No matter how much the men didn’t want to watch a girlie-man like Tedi go at it, they all wanted to see Giuseppe’s humiliation — Giuseppe was so handsome he was the object of affection for every woman in the village.
The pleasure in Tedi’s cock was intense, making it hard for Tedi to focus on being serious. He smiled at Giuseppe’s frenzied sputtering and the puddle of saliva that formed on the floor. His dick throbbed in Giuseppe’s throat, swelling to fit and forcing the big Italian macho to gasp for air when Tedi backed out just enough to allow it.
Tedi eventually pulled away, not wanting to finish in Giuseppe’s mouth. He had bigger plans. Giuseppe sputtered and gagged profusely, spitting over and over onto the floor as though trying to get every drop out. Tedi moved behind Giuseppe and rammed a finger in his ass even before Giuseppe realized what was going on.
“Oh, dio mio!” he shouted. “Che fa male come l’inferno!” A torrent of laughter arose from outside, and Giuseppe blushed. He bit his lip. His ass clenched hard on Tedi’s finger.
Tedi giggled. Every time he moved his finger even a bit, it sent waves of agony through Giuseppe’s muscles. Giuseppe hung his head as he settled on all fours — the only position that made this fingering easy for him, since he was massively taller than Tedi — and arched his back. The muscles of his back rippled, and he gripped the ground as though trying to rip the floorboards up.
Hooking his finger to one side or the other made Giuseppe grunt. He hyperventilated, his entire body stiff and tense as he focused on relaxing the only muscle that counted. Tedi rammed his finger in and out, enjoying the spongy feel of the man’s body.
“Go over to the window,” Tedi said.
Giuseppe hesitated but did as he was told when Tedi used his finger in Giuseppe’s ass to point the way. Giuseppe crawled with difficulty across the floor. It took what seemed like a long time to get there. Giuseppe gasped and twisted his head as he suppressed the agony in his trembling ass.
“Poke your head out the window,” Tedi said. Giuseppe hesitated again, and Tedi repeated himself. “Put your head out the window. You are supposed to experience all the shame and humiliation that poor girl felt. That means people must see what happens to you. If not, the malocchio will surely haunt your family for generations to come.”
He gritted his teeth and pushed his head out past the curtain. Outside, his face was on the side of the building, so no one noticed right away. Tedi’s house was built on a hill, which meant Giuseppe’s face was high in the air compared to the folks on the ground outside.
The people out front didn’t notice his head until Tedi lined his dick up with Giuseppe’s ass. It had just a bit of hair, the perfect amount, Tedi thought, for a man’s ass. It was enough to be clear that it was a man’s ass and not a woman’s, but it didn’t have the dense thicket of smelly hair that Tedi associated with sailors, soldiers and Greeks.
To put his face out the window, Giuseppe had to crouch rather than remain on all fours. That put his ass much too high for Tedi to effectively penetrate. He got a short stool and stood on that, which made it much easier.
When he at last slammed his dick in, Giuseppe let out a screeching yelp. That was what attracted the attention of the crowd. Giuseppe’s legs straightened and his back arched, but Tedi tapped his back until he got the message — he had to crouch in order for Tedi to reach him.
“Che è troppo grande per un uomo femminile!” Giuseppe grunted and groaned, turning bright-red as the crowd moved to the side of the building. They were throwing rotten fruit at him now, and every time they got a direct hit on Giuseppe’s face, they all cheered and clapped.
Ignoring the resistance he felt, Tedi rammed hard and slow. He enjoyed the long grinding motions as he pushed into Giuseppe’s ass, and he sighed with satisfaction every time he let his dick lower almost all the way out. Sensations sparked throughout Tedi’s body.
The pleasure was unbelievably intense for Tedi, who had never felt anything quite like it. He had penetrated only a few men, none of them as handsome or well-formed as Giuseppe. Those occasions had been nothing compared to the fleshy, meaty feel of Giuseppe’s muscles tightening underneath him, the masculine hair of his ass or the macho grunting as he tried to pretend he wasn’t in agonizing pain. Tedi laid atop him, grinding his dick in, making certain to hit every corner of Giuseppe’s sensitive insides.
“Feliciana!” Giuseppe shouted.
The front door opened, and a pretty black-haired girl marched in, pushing past Anita. She slammed the door shut behind herself. That must be Feliciana, who, Tedi assumed, was the girl whose honor Giuseppe had plundered. She was pretty, but with an arrogant, upper-class look to her face.
She squealed in shock at the sight. Giuseppe brought his fruit-dripping head back in the building and exclaimed back at her, grunting too hard to form words as his movement reawakened the agony in his backside. He nearly collapsed to the ground at her feet. The sensation was too intense for Tedi to stop now, so he continued humping Giuseppe’s ass as he writhed in pain and humiliation at his girlfriend’s feet.
“Giuseppe!” she shouted. “You are… what are you doing?! Che è disgustoso!”
“I’m doing this for you, my cara Feliciana,” he said.
“I never asked you to do this!”
“Your grandmother… She put a curse on me. Malocchio,” he said. “On my family.” Tears twinkled in his eyes. Tedi groaned. He allowed Giuseppe to angle his body to face the girl, but Tedi was relentless on his ass. He didn’t even slow down as Giuseppe’s body tightened with the shame overcoming him.
“So, you do this for a curse?” she asked.
He nodded. “I must do it. But we can still be together afterwards! Possiamo sposarci…”
Feliciana thought for a long time. She cocked her face to the side and then shook her head. “No… Giuseppe… You were very sweet to me, and you have such a handsome face… But you are from a poor family,” she said. “And now… you are not a real man. Si hanno meno di un uomo…”
“What?!”
“You have been sodomizzato…” she said with a giggle. She smiled at Tedi. “You are letting a small man inside you. That is… I can not respect you after this. I must marry a man who acts like a real man.”
“Feliciana…”
“Close your mouth. A real man would rather submit to a curse than that,” she said. She shook her head in disappointment, then walked out the door. When the front door was briefly open, Anita’s voice filtered in, her braying laughter filling the house for a moment before the door slammed shut again. Giuseppe sobbed into the floor.
Anita’s voice was audible from outside. “You do not much like him anymore, do you? Good.”
It seemed that the crowd was focused on chanting on the side of the house where Giuseppe’s face had been seen through the window, so none of them realized why Feliciana had gone inside. Her virtue was intact in the eyes of the villagefolk.
Giuseppe straightened his back when talking to Feliciana, so Tedi was clutching his muscles, trying to hang on — when they both stood plainly, Tedi’s face was even with Giuseppe’s upper back, which mean that the straighter Giuseppe stood, the less Tedi could easily penetrate his ass.
But he refused to take his dick out, even as Giuseppe’s massive body quaked and trembled with the power of his sobbing. Tedi had to claw at the man’s skin for support, and he used his feet to grip Giuseppe’s hairy thighs.
Finally Giuseppe seemed to realize that he had to change his positioning if this was going to ever end. He dropped to all fours, and Tedi at last had some leverage again. He pounded away at Giuseppe’s ass.
Since he had been ramming him for awhile, Giuseppe’s hole was loosened and opened now. Tedi could easily drill his dick in and out. A loud thwacking sound came with every thrust of Tedi’s hips.
When Giuseppe wiped tears off his face, Tedi felt a twinge of pity. He reached around to Giuseppe’s dick and gave it a stroke. It was already hard, but it must have been close to finishing despite his despair, because Tedi could already feel the orgasmic energy collecting and roiling in the shaft.
As though he hadn’t been aware of the intensely pleasurable feelings in his dick until Tedi touched it, Giuseppe’s weeping turned into a momentary moan of bliss. Precum leaked profusely from his cockshaft and coated Tedi’s fingers.
“You can come see me anytime, Giuseppe,” Tedi said softly. He repeated it, but Giuseppe didn’t acknowledge it, whether because he didn’t want to admit he might allow this to happen again or because he genuinely didn’t hear it, Tedi didn’t know which.
Then at last Tedi felt his own orgasm overwhelm him. He grunted and nibbled on Giuseppe’s smooth back as it happened, and pleasure rolled up and down his spine. Giuseppe gasped at the sensation even before the first drops of cum filled him up; his back muscles rippled beneath Tedi’s lolling tongue.
Cum sprayed inside Giuseppe, a torrent of male juices that coated the inside of Giuseppe’s body. It felt like an incredible amount of cum, more than Tedi had ever shot before. Giuseppe gulped and moaned, making an ear-shattering sound.
Anita must have been listening at the door, because she called out when Giuseppe made a noise. “Good! Is that it? That’s how you made that poor innocent girl feel, Giuseppe! Not so proudful anymore, are you!?”
Tedi had to suppress a giggle at Giuseppe, who wept again at that reminder. The crowd cheered and shouted. But Giuseppe’s sadness was short-lived — he reached his own orgasm moments later in Tedi’s hand.
It was a painful orgasm, Tedi could tell that from the way Giuseppe sucked on his teeth and bit his lip, asshole clenching on Tedi’s limp dick. But there was also an intense pleasure behind it, which Tedi sensed in the rippling of his back muscles and the exhausted tenor of his grunting.
Tedi had to strain to reach all the way around Giuseppe’s body to jack him off, but he did that now with his second hand as well. He scooped up all of the cum as it sprayed from Giuseppe’s uncut cock.
A part of Tedi wanted nothing more than to eat the cum off his own palm, but he could do that with nearly any of the men who came to see him. Today, Tedi wanted to do something different.
“Give me your mouth,” Tedi said, and Giuseppe did as he was told. He winced painfully as he turned his head with Tedi’s limp dick still throbbing in his ass. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes.
It was apparent that Giuseppe thought Tedi wanted to kiss him again, but instead Tedi tipped his hand full of cum right into Giuseppe’s mouth.
Giuseppe gagged and choked on the snotty texture and sour-sweet flavor. His asshole clenched down again as though trying to rip Tedi’s dick off. That sent a second wave of orgasmic pleasure up Tedi’s body. He gasped as Giuseppe moaned in pain.
While he smeared the remnants of cum from his hand onto Giuseppe’s face, Tedi let his dick flop out slowly. It made a moist popping sound when it finally came out. Giuseppe collapsed into a sweaty heap on the floor, sniffling and holding back tears.
Tedi sat down next to him and clucked his tongue. He massaged the thick black hair of Giuseppe’s head. “There, there,” he said. “It’s over now. The curse is lifted. Malocchio è andato…”
Giuseppe sniffled. “She was right, I am less than a man. No girl will ever marry me now.”
“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Tedi said. “Besides, even if it is, you can always go to America, or to England or France, or just Rome. No one there will know.”
“I will know.”
“Or you can stay here. You can come visit me whenever you need a girl… I normally don’t do any of this, y’know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can… treat me like a girl. That is more normal. When you don’t have a curse to remove, that is what I would expect. You can come here and ram at my ass, my face — every part of my body is yours.”
“Really?”
“Really. It feels like a girl, or so everyone tells me,” Tedi said. He patted Giuseppe on the ass and held back a laugh when Giuseppe winced in pain. “Now come on. Hold your head high. You did what you needed to do for your family. The reason those men out there are teasing you is because they are jealous. Their wives would give anything to be your wife instead of theirs.”
He smiled behind his tears and crawled to his feet. The agony was evident, but he shook it out and took a few tentative steps before wincing in pain again. “Can I wait in here for a few minutes?”
Tedi motioned for him to sit down on the couch, which he did, and Tedi curled up next to his muscular arms. When Giuseppe found that sitting on his ass was too painful, he slid down to laying on his side. Tedi sat there in the crook of his chest, massaging his muscles.
“Of course, baby,” Tedi said. “You can wait here as long as you need. I’ll take care of you.”

They did that, bam, boom, screeeeeech! Pow! Splat yo, like that, wow, shiiiiip, that was… like, yu know! Whooooah, aww, yo, all ovuh, man.

“Damn it, that traffic pisst me off, yu know,” Wojo said, plopping his site slip onto Teddy’s desk. He let out a hollow chuckle as he unbuttoned and shrugged off his workshirt. “Fuggett’boutit, yu know.” He shrugged again, his broad shoulders rising up and going down, cuz the workshirt he wore was too small for his wide musculature. His chest tweaked, pecs bouncing and rippling, loosening the beads of sweat clinging to them, which made them drip down his hair-dappled belly. “Man, Teddy, I saw this accident happen, man, it was messt up, swear to God, the car was going this way, and this other car was going that way — maaaan, shiii….” He avoided cursing because he was Christian. He kissed his crucifix, then followed that up with a vociferous series of hand gestures and sound effects that explicated the narrative and its effectuation upon his gestalt, conveyed his sympathy for the victims qua his standpoint’s relation to the incumbent mores of his sociocultural position and satisfyingly exercised the fervor bubbling up from his conception of idiomasculine expression per se. He mimed a steering wheel, careening left and right. “They did that, bam, boom, screeeeeech! Pow! Splat yo, like that, wow, shiiiiip, that was… like, yu know! Whooooah, aww, yo, all ovuh, man. It was messt up, like mad messt up.” He passed to Teddy his truck key and the clipboard with his mileage form. “I got out to help the folks, they wasn’t bad hurt, just shook up, you know, I was like ‘no disrespec’t, man but that was like crazy’, and then the cops showed up.” He undid his belt as though to take his pants off mid-story, then realized he was still wearing his workboots. He held his pants up with his hands as he headed into the locker room, and Teddy followed.

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Arthur the Hero

Teddy tends bar alongside the bouncer Arthur, who just might have a secret… Unrelatedly, the masked superhero Captain Right has been taking out the trash and cleaning up the city. Teddy’s about to make a discovery that will change everything!

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Sasha Lavendeur

Sasha is a wealthy Southern dandy.

Books

Sasha & the Filthy Alphas of Texas: Sasha Lavendeur is a man-about-town, a stylish dandy who pursues his interest in the male form, no matter what. In Texas, a man like him tends to get what he wants… or who he wants! He manages to nab a moonshinin’ hillbilly, a cook at the barbecue joint, a minor league baseball player, a strip club janitor, an incarcerated biker and a macho Mexican, all of whom end up taking what Sasha is doling out. You’ll never believe what kinda shenanigans he gets into!

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