The Gangbang

A hardcore gangbang porno shoot gets out of control before an old-school fluffer is brought in to help out. Can Rob save this nasty interracial video shoot?

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Read the whole thing here!

Rob was excited as he walked onto the set. He showed up on-time, but none of the talent was there yet. That didn’t much surprise him. He was let in by a mouse-faced white man with a balding head. He checked Rob’s name against a list, and he initially said no after a cursory glance.
“You ain’t on the list.”
“I’m supposed to be, I swear,” Rob said. He momentarily wondered if Thumper had lied to him.
“Look, this ain’t that kind of movie. You prolly got the wrong address,” the bald man said. “This is a gangbang flick. Black guys and a white chick. You ain’t a black guy, and you ain’t a white chick.”
“I swear, I’m on there as a fluffer.”
“Fluffer? We ain’t had fluffers since they invented that little blue pill,” the man said, then he glanced back down at the list. “Oh, wait… You’re on here as Mr. White’s ‘personal assistant’.”
“That’s it. That’s me,” Rob said.
“He brought his own fluffer?”
Rob shrugged. “He said no one’s taking Wiagro anymore.”
“I’ve been shooting porno all week, they’re all taking Wiagro.”
“White guys?”
“What?”
“I mean… in his words… well, I don’t wanna use his wording exactly, but he basically said black guys aren’t taking it anymore.”
“Oh. What? Really?”
“Yeah, something about police brutality.”
“What does Wiagro have to do with police brutality?”
“I dunno. Ask him.”
The bald man shrugged. “Fine. You can’t eat from the craft services table, I’ll kick you out if you do.”
“Okay.”
Rob walked in. The set was made up to look like a dingy alleyway, with trash strewn about and a dumpster nearby. The dumpster was covered in paint that looked like garbage. The set was very well-done, and it seemed like it should smell bad, but all Rob smelled was hand sanitizer.
Near one wall was a table of food — the craft services table, presumably. Rob was too nervous to eat, and the lunch meat looked gray and cheap and room-temperature, so he was not tantalized. The bald man kept glancing at him though, like he was expecting Rob to sneak a few bites.
He soon saw evidence of the woman — not her, but her agent appeared on set and whispered to the bald man, something about her “having some questions about the scene”. Rob desperately wanted to sneak closer, but he didn’t want to get kicked off the set before anything even started.
When the men began to show up, Rob was excited, awkward at first as they all looked at him like he was a benign tumor they had just found. No one asked why he was there. Rob didn’t know if that was because Thumper had told them, or if they just didn’t care.
Thumper was last to arrive. He made eye contact with Rob, nodded, then went straight for the nine other black men who were already there. They milled about in one corner of the set.
After slapping hands with the other nine guys, Thumper lowered his voice to say something important, and they all leaned in. Rob couldn’t tear his eyes away. It sounded like he was encouraging them, almost like a coach or a civil rights leader, and every few seconds he was interrupted by a chorus of uh-huh and yeah, homeboy.
Rob drooled at the thought of bedding these studs, who were the literal embodiments of the black buck mandingo archetype in the national consciousness — these were some of the biggest stars in the industry today.
Thumper White, a middle-aged former convict and heavyweight boxer, had been humping Rob off and on since he got out of prison, and invited him along to the filming of Ten in Three at One Time, an interracial gangbang porn film that Thumper starred in, being filmed right off campus. Rob was skipping class to be here.
Attending a shoot like this had always been one of Rob’s dreams, and this had to be one of the best movies for him to watch. He gleaned from overhearing the crew set up that the ten gangbangers were supposed to “dp her every which way” including double-anal, double-vaginal and double-anal, even supposedly at the same time. He says it’s impossible, he just wants to film them trying.
The girl appeared, flanked by her manager. She was Jaleena Tight, a well-known star in the industry. She was tall, pretty but in a fake, made-up way — Rob got the impression she would be a lot less hot up close and without her makeup on. She looked bored, as if she got triple-penetrated by ten cocks at once every day.
“Alright, let’s get started, come on, guys, over here,” said the director, the bald man, whose name was Gerry. He didn’t look at all excited to be here, Rob thought.
Thumper broke up the huddle. They had all wrapped arms around each other, and Rob was so close he could imagine himself in the center of that circle. His dick jumped to full erection in his pants.
As Gerry ran through the shooting schedule, Rob daydreamed. He couldn’t have assembled a better cast of hardcore thugs. All of the legends in the field were here, including Bryan Plumper, who pretended not to recognize Rob even though he’d been giving Rob reluctant reacharounds every week for months now — Bryan was in desperate need of money and Rob made him agree to regular reacharounds in exchange for cash. Bryan kept that on the downlow though.
Rob was already rock-hard before anyone took their cocks out. He was embarrassed to jack off, so he just let his cock get hard in his pants as the men approached the girl.
“Yo, girl, you look good enough to eat.”
“Look good enough to fill up, ya mean.”
She smiled, though she obviously didn’t much want to be doing this. All ten men talked at once, muttering seductive come-ons to her, interspersed with trashy insults. “Come on, slut, suck my dick” She unzipped the fly of the first man, Bryan Plumper, and his limp dick flopped out.
Bryan Plumper remained one of the top black male stars of porno today, both because of his Hollywood handsome face, his perfect body like a professional athlete, his outrageously huge cock and because of his cocky onscreen personality. He grinned like a jerk as he flopped his dick against her face.
“How my balls smell, ya trailer park bitch?”
His limp cock was still one of the biggest Rob had ever seen. He didn’t want to get kicked off the set, so he didn’t get too close, but he was impressed — it was even bigger in real life than it seemed on his computer monitor.
“Hey, uh… Bryan…” the director, Gerry said. “Uh… Can you get hard?” He sounded like he was surprised he wasn’t already hard.
Bryan shrugged. “Get me a better girl, and I will.” He frowned at the girl, who blanched but didn’t respond. She licked his dick slowly, but not in a slow, seductive way, just in a sloppy, bored way, as though she was imagining herself licking a popsicle she didn’t much enjoy.
“Aren’t you on Wiagro?”
Bryan shook his head, echoed by the other nine. It was Thumper who spoke up though. He had his dick, half-hard already, sticking out the fly of his jeans. “We ain’t takin’ that no mo’. Ain’t you on Twitter, man?” The other guys chorused their agreement.
Gerry nodded. “Yeah, technically. I don’t do it personally though. I have a Sri Lankan woman who does that for me. What’s going on?”
“The CEO of the company who makes Wiagro is a fucking racist,” Thumper said. The other nine tried to explain it all at the same time, so Rob couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he got the gist of it: the CEO had said that black men killed by the police ‘should have been following the law, so they wouldn’t get themselves shot’.
Did he really say that? Rob followed politics closely and hadn’t heard that one, so he found it dubious — and why would anyone have even asked some pharmaceutical executive about police brutality? The gangbang crew all flexed their muscles at the director, as though Gerry was responsible for it all.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Gerry said, holding his hand up for silence. “I get it, guys, I do. I understand. But you know… we’re shootin’ porno here, right? You have to have a hardon. That’s pretty much a basic rule. You can’t just flop your dick around like a dead fish.”
Thumper walked over to Rob. “We goin’ old-fashioned, Gerry. I brought a fluffer along,” he said. “Get down.”
Rob got on his knees, swallowing Thumper’s cock in one smooth motion. The others all burst into laughter and chatter.
Disappointingly, the other nine made it clear they weren’t going to use Rob to get hard. They all said they could do it on their own.
“I don’t need no sissy, Gerry. I do this the even more old-fashioned way.”
But Rob could see that more than a few were watching him out of the corner of their eyes.
Rob deep-throated Thumper’s cock, putting on a good show for the guys who weren’t focused on the girl — she was still sucking off Bryan Plumper, who was dressed as a pimp and making demands of her. The others all looked away, but Rob could see them glancing over out of the corner of their eyes.
“Yeah girl look up at me when you suck my cock. Go on, go deeper. Deeper, baby, you can do it. It’s okay to gag a little, ain’t nuffin’ wrong with dat.”
When it felt like Thumper was near orgasm, he pulled away from Rob. He hurried over to Bryan Plumper and rammed his cock next to his in the girl’s mouth.
“Hey, homeboy! Ain’t nobody asked for yo’ dick!” Bryan said. He looked at Thumper crossly. If it weren’t for the others laughing at him, Rob suspected Bryan would have punched him.
“Thumper don’t care, homeboy. He old-school like that. He a prison homeboy.”
For his part, Thumper didn’t even seem to notice. He let his dick touch Bryan’s, and the girl sucked on both tips. She didn’t use a lot of tongue, and it didn’t look like a great blowjob. Bryan shook his head. “Old man, you are one nasty homeboy.”
Thumper shrugged. “Whatchoo complainin’ ’bout? We double-teaming this bitch every way, right?”
“Yeah, but we don’t do that any more than we got to. We start off with just some one-on-ones,” Bryan said. His erection had deflated.
“Bryan… What happened to your hardon?” Gerry asked. He sounded frustrated.
“This homeboy’s cock happened to it!” Bryan shouted. He dropped his green pimp pants and turned around. His perfectly smooth, round asscheeks were right in front of the woman’s face. “Come on, lick my ass, bitch. That always gets me hard.”
“No.”
Bryan looked at her through his legs in anger. He had to move his cock and balls to one side to see her face. “What?”
“That wasn’t on the list. I ain’t being paid for a rimjob,” the girl said. She looked away from Bryan’s ass. “Get your ass outta my face.”
Gerry sighed. “Yeah, that’s right. No rimjobs today.”
“You said we was doing it all!” Bryan said. He stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. “You said we was doing rimjobs!”
Gerry shook his head. “I said that was the plan, Bryan. I said that like two months ago. Plans change.”
As they continued arguing, Rob was surprised by Enrico Strong. He was a plump young black man, the one there with the biggest belly, though he wasn’t fat, he just had a lot of muscle and a fair amount of padding over it. He didn’t seem at all self-conscious about it. Enrico was the only one who had taken his shirt off so far, so everyone could see his body.
“Yo, you get me hard, huh, sissy… Huh?” Enrico said.
Rob kissed his cock without answering. He swallowed it all the way down to the root. Enrico looked like he didn’t want to attract attention from the others, who were whacking their limp dicks against the woman’s face. She sucked off each one in turn.
“Yo, this bitch ain’t suckin’ like she need it.”
“Come on, bitch, deep-throat that shit. You just playin’ with the tip.”
Then Enrico pulled away from Rob and shoved in between the others. He didn’t seem to notice — or didn’t care — that his dick leaked precum on their thighs as he squeezed past them to shove his dick in her throat.
“Finally!” Gerry said. “A hard cock.” He looked to Rob and raised his eyebrows. Rob nodded. Gerry cleared his throat. “Okay, everybody — everyone but Thumper and Enrico, I mean — go on and let the fluffer get you hard.”
Rob opened his mouth wide. He smiled proudly. He had fantasized about these porn stars off so much, and now it was actually happening. “Oh shit, I ain’t think we was gonna do it, but this sloppy-ass slut is not doin’ it fo’ me.” First was Justyn Dong, a tall, lean man with a tight little face, not especially handsome, though he had a nice body and a huge cock.
There was a little blood flowing through his cock already, and when Rob sucked it down, it quickly perked into life. “Damn, this punk know how to do it right” Justyn fed his dick down Rob’s throat. He lightly slapped the side of Rob’s throat as though that helped it go down.
“Okay, come on, Justyn, let’s go. Y’all need to learn how to use a fluffer. You just get hard, then come over here and fuck a little,” Gerry said. Justyn mockingly saluted him as he left Rob’s mouth and returned to the set.
“Alright, slut, you ain’t had nothin’ yet.”
He was replaced by Tyrell Brickley, a local, and Steel Lexington, a cool, fashionable homeboy, who wore reflective sunglasses still, even though he had taken off the rest of his clothes. He slowly spat onto his rod as Rob sucked down all that sweat, and the other one, the local Tyrell, was mollywopping his dick on both Rob’s face and Steel’s dick.
His dick was thick and veiny, and it soon stirred to life in Rob’s throat. “Fuck yeah, you got that nice open punk’s neck, I like that.” He even lifted his sunglasses over his head as the first few drops of salty precum leaked down Rob’s throat.
Next up was Shortie Nack, a squat young thug with a thick mustache and a plump body, not quite as wide as Enrico’s but with plenty of thickness. “Get ready to choke, alright? My paps always told me if you gonna ramrod a homeboy, you gotta show him who’s boss. I know you ain’t a homeboy, but I think the same principle apply even more to honkies.” Rob deep-throated his dick and licked his sweaty nutsack as he enthusiastically agreed.
Then Shortie took Rob by the ear, held him in place, and rammed his cock down Rob’s throat. His gyrations were so intense Rob choked loudly, and Gerry yelled at Shortie to shut up.
“Can’t help it, Massa Gerry, this’s the only one I’s uh-know how to use his dick, suh!” He laughed as he left Rob’s spasming face to join the gangbang. He looked back longingly at Rob, whose features were bright red from both embarrassment and lack of oxygen.
After that was Mr. Markum, the only one there who actually looked like a nice guy. He had deep dimples and a round face, and he smiled a lot, even as he nervously let Rob swallow his cock. He didn’t quite have a six-pack, and his fat dick pulsated in Rob’s throat.
“This is actually my first time lettin’ a man on my meat. Ain’t that bad, really… Works too, he gettin’ me hard in no time.”
As Mr. Markum went back to the girl, Rob swallowed down Baron Hung. He whacked his dick across Rob’s face before he let himself get fully hard. “Just wanna make sure you see this meat before you gag on it some more — you worship it, huh?” Rob’s throat was already too full to answer. He let his eyes say yes as he choked on the entire ten inches of black cock in his throat.
Wesley Gripes came next, second-to-last. He was possibly the oldest, Rob thought, or maybe roughly tied with Thumper. But while Thumper was a burly thug with a few gray hairs appearing on his chest and head, Wesley had a smooth, hairless body, and a few wrinkles on his face, but otherwise didn’t look especially old. “These other homeboys don’t even know, man. But I do. I was makin’ porno when these homeboys was in diapers. Back then, we always had fluffers, and they was always sissies. Or sometimes just some homeboy who piss me off, so I tell him he gotta be my fluffer fo’ a day. Lemme spit in yo’ throat, bitch. He took his dick out and spat a thick wad of saliva right down Rob’s throat. Rob choked and gasped for more. “I wish I could stay, bitch, but that bitch over there wants me, and I’s gettin’ paid fo’ that.”
When Wesley walked away, spit dripping from his dick, the only one left was Bryan Plumper. He sneered down at Rob and crossed his arms over his massive chest, still pretending he didn’t know Rob. He had a huge rod, so big Rob thought it might be the first cock in his life he couldn’t deep-throat.
At least one of the other gangbangers chuckled as though they didn’t believe him, but Bryan didn’t acknowledge it. He took a deep breath and whacked his limp dick over Rob’s face. He put the tip in Rob’s mouth, then stopped himself.
“Nah. I can’t do this,” Bryan said. “You gonna eat my ass, bitch.” He bent over on all fours, putting his face on the ground and his ass wide in the air. He wiggled his hips as though waiting to get a dick up his ass. “I was lookin’ forward to a rimjob today.”
Rob dived right into his ass. He plunged his tongue deep in Bryan’s ass.
“You see, bitch? You should do this, take a fucking lesson from this punk,” Bryan said, chuckling. He repeated himself until the girl angrily said she heard him. He moaned passionately, so loud he grabbed attention from the guys who weren’t currently getting in position to start fucking the girl.
Finally, his cock hard, Bryan got up and raced over to the girl. She was sitting on Mr. Markum’s cock, easing into her ass. Without a word of warning, Bryan pushed his own cock into her pussy. His balls touched Mr. Markum’s as they both began fucking her.
The woman was limp, as though she had been double-penetrated so often she barely noticed. Bryan roared and flexed his biceps as he pushed inside her.
“Yo, Bryan, can you get your balls off me?” Mr. Markum said. His voice was muffled because he was under the girl, who was herself under Bryan’s heavy body.
But it didn’t sound like Bryan even heard his words. He kept fucking the girl, slamming his dick in with each powerful thrust of his hips. Each time, his balls hit Mr. Markum’s, making a sweaty, moist slapping sound that all the other gangbangers groaned at. All except for Thumper who kneeled down to get a better look at their balls slapping together.
“Man… homeboy! Bryan, homeboy, hang up for a sec,” Mr. Markum said, louder. “You keep touchin’ my balls and shit, man. That’s gross. I hate balls.”
“Yeah, I’m ’bout to lose my erection. This bitch is too loose,” Bryan said. “Where’s that fluffer at?”
Gerry sighed. He obviously didn’t want to keep interrupting the shoot for this, but he motioned for Rob to get in there. “Don’t take your dicks out, guys. Come on, we got a lot to shoot today.”
Rob hurried into the shot and put his head between Mr. Markum’s and Bryan’s hips. It smelled like assholes and ball-hair, he thought as he licked Mr. Markum’s balls first, then Bryan’s. “Damn, he gettin’ in there! That is a fuckin’ expert move right there!” They were both deep in the girl’s body, so their cocks were not visible, and their hairy scrotums overlapped. Rob licked each ball separately at first, then opened his mouth so wide he could get all four in at once.
Bryan grunted, and the sound was palpable through his balls, which made Rob moan with pleasure. Bryan said, “Damn… I ain’t think ball-lickin’ could make me get hard.”
“Yeah, that’s nice, I like it when you move your tongue,” Mr. Markum said. His balls crawled up in his sac as his dick got hard inside the girl.
“Okay fluffer, come on out of there, they’re hard,” Gerry said.
Rob was disappointed, but he crawled away. He needn’t have been upset because he hadn’t even taken a deep breath before someone shoved a dick in his mouth. He soon saw that it was Steel Lexington, who just rammed his dick in a few times, then moved to the girl’s mouth.
A few yards away, outside the current shot, Rob saw Thumper and Wesley Gripes laying on the floor, facing each other before they laid on their backs. Their thickly corded legs wrapped around each other’s bodies as they scooted so close that their dicks touched.
Thumper didn’t seem to mind, but Wesley was grossed out. “Ah, damn, yo’ dick feel like a damp sponge, Thumper. This shit is nasty.” His dick immediately fell limp. Rob crawled over to slurp on his meat. Their cocks together were as thick as a fist, Rob thought, he’d be impressed if she got them both fully in her ass.
But he took both dicks in his mouth just to get Wesley hard, as Thumper was still rock-hard anyway. Rob pleasured both cocktips at once, and he flicked his tongue in and out of Wesley’s pisshole. He couldn’t believe he was jerking off the Wesley Gripes!
“You real nasty,” Wesley said. He curled his lip up and stuck out his tongue.
The girl walked over to Wesley and Thumper. She moaned in pain when she sat on their cocks, straining to get both in her asshole. “Oh shit, she got ’em in her ass, this girl a nastiness champion.” Wesley gave some of the guys dap from his position on the ground.
While she worked two dicks into her ass, Shortie Nack got his own dick serviced. He looked on at the scene, watching the girl strain to get two dicks inside her. Rob swallowed him down to the root, then did the same for Baron Hung. Their dicks tasted like pussy now.
They both moved onto her mouth. She was concentrating on taking both dicks in her ass, so she didn’t really suck, just left her mouth open while they rubbed their cocks together on her lips. “Alright, bitch, you got four in you, now, two in the mouth, two in the ass. You got five more to go!” The men all laughed as they reached in to touch her tits.
Enrico and Bryan were next. Enrico let Rob lick his dick for a few seconds, but he was still half-hard, so he was ready right away. He got on his knees and pushed his dick into her pussy, while Bryan Plumper bent over in front of Rob. He grunted.
“Don’t fight me, bitch, take this dick, like the slut I know you is, whore.”
Rob licked his asshole until Bryan was hard again. His musty ass-flesh tasted like sweat, and his dick was hard almost right away. He stayed at it until Gerry yelled at him to hurry into position. He even lifted one of his legs and shook it like a dog.
So the girl had Wesley and Thumper in her ass — both of them on the floor on their backs, cocks jammed in together. Shortie and Baron flopped their limpish dicks on her face, joined soon by Mr. Markum, whose dick was half-hard. Her face was entirely concealed by the three limp cocks covering her.
“You look so nasty with three dicks all on you, slut, so fuckin’ nasty. What would yo’ daddy say if he saw you right now?”
Enrico was the only one who was seriously humping, shoving his dick into her pussy. Rob didn’t have much experience with vaginas, but he could tell she was loose, and Enrico was having trouble maintaining an erection. But then Bryan got into position.
“Ah, get your ass out of my way,” Enrico said. Bryan had gotten in front of him and slowly lowered his thick body between Enrico and the girl. Bryan’s dick left a trail of precum on her tits. His ass was only inches from Enrico’s face, and his cheeks rubbed against Enrico’s belly as Bryan slid down to her pussy.
She already had two cocks in her ass, so the positioning was awkward. Bryan’s feet were planted wide, on the far side of both Thumper’s and Wesley’s thighs. His asscheeks spread, baring his hole right on Enrico’s chest.
“Ah, fuck, I lost it! Fluffer!” Enrico shouted. “There’s a goddamn asshole on my chest.” They all laughed nervously.
“That asshole is wet with that sissy’s spit.”
Rob jumped in. He had a feeling the director was about to say not to worry about it — he had said he knew they wouldn’t get all ten dicks inside her at once, after all — so Rob got in there before he could say no. He took Enrico’s balls in his mouth and made a loud gargling sound.
Instantly Enrico’s cock perked up. Rob could feel it in his jerking ballsac. Rob moved between cock and ballsac, having no idea which one he was licking as there were so many down there he couldn’t tell.
But that wasn’t all. There were still two men left. Justyn Dong, who approached Rob and put his dick in his mouth, and Steel Lexington, who stroked himself off as he waited his turn.
“Yo, Gerry, how we gonna do this?” Steel said. He looked on dubiously. “Ain’t no way I’m gonna get in there.”
“I know, I know,” Gerry said. “Just try. I wanna shoot you guys tryin’, y’know, jousting as you get it in there.”
Rob moved from Justyn’s dick to Steel’s and back again. Steel took off his sunglasses and sighed. “I ain’t gettin’ paid enough for this,” he said. He looked to Justyn. “You want the pussy or the ass?”
Justyn shrugged. “Uh. Pussy, I guess.”
“Oh shit, this is one for the record books.”
Steel nodded. He was rock-hard again, and he approached the girl from behind. Gerry moved the camera down to catch it as Steel mounted Thumper’s chest. Steel’s hairy ballsac even touched Thumper’s skin when Steel poked his dick at the top of the girl’s ass.
“Damn, sorry, homeboy, them’s my balls on yo’ belly.”
She already had two dicks in her ass, so Steel could do nothing more than jab at the crowded entrance. He quickly got limp again as his balls dragged on Thumper’s hairy belly, so Rob got in there and licked his cock from behind, while Gerry moved over to film the pussy.
He had to squeeze his head to get at Steel’s balls, and Rob managed to lick them as well as at least one cock and someone else’s taint, he couldn’t even keep track of whose body was whose. And he couldn’t see the girl at all anymore.
“If this bitch wasn’t already nasty, she would be now.”
“Whoever’s balls I’m touching, man… wash yo’ fuckin’ balls sometime, homeboy. Feels like a soggy wetnap.”
“She loose as a goose, mah homeboy. She actually got three homeboy dicks in her pussy right now?”
“Really? You got yo’self in there.”
“Just the tip, but still.”
“Get yo’ asshole off my face, homeboy.”
Justyn had to grip Enrico’s hefty body, and even held onto Bryan’s asscheeks as he jammed his dick into the confused mess down there. He actually got his dick just slightly in, though Rob didn’t think anybody could tell except for him because his head was right there.
As the camera moved back and forth from her ass to her pussy and back, Rob did likewise, licking whichever dicks weren’t in the shot.
“Okay, guys, fluffer, out of the way,” Gerry said. He backed up until he got them all in the shot. “Alright, folks we’re in the home-stretch, hump away. If your dick ain’t in her, that’s fine, just pretend. Nobody can tell from his distance anyway. I just need to get some shots of all ten of you at once.”
“Okay this is it, I’m out, I ain’t doin’ no more gangbang shit after this. This is too fucking nasty, mah homeboy.”
“I know, right? I told this homeboy… years ago when I got started, I told this homeboy you don’t know that I ain’t doin’ nothin where my dick touch another dick. He said okay, but then he made it happen like a hour later. Now here I am eight years later, man, and I can’t even feel this girl. I’m humpin’ yo’ nutsack right now.”
Rob masturbated as he watched. All ten men moved, ten powerful black bodies undulating in sync with each other. The girl was virtually invisible behind them.
“Ah, fuck, I got someone’s precum on my finger.”
“Okay, let’s get ready for the cumshots,” Gerry said.
The men were all relieved. “Finally, shit! I feel like my dick been toyed with all day!” They pulled away, leaving the girl there, looking bored. They were all limp now, except Thumper, so they lined up for attention from Rob.
“Shit, I’m glad to get away from this nasty bitch.”
He opened his mouth and let them plow at his throat like an assembly-line. They took turns, passing him around, and chuckling as he deep-throated every last cock. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to taste their cum, but he loved the one-after-the-other throating he got.
Since their cocks had been touching each other more than her, he didn’t taste much of the girl on them either. Their sour-sweet precum flooded his mouth, and Rob let it wash over his face to at least give himself the illusion of getting the cumshots. He didn’t mind so much, as he got plenty of cock either way.
Unsurprisingly, it was Thumper who came first. He ran over to the girl and shot a load over her face. She gagged a little but then left the cum there, playing with her loose pussy for the camera.
“Paint that slut, homeboy!”
“Here come another! Gonna turn her even whiter…”
“Direct hit!”
Thumper then let Rob play with his limp cock while the other guys shot their load on her. One by one, they brought their spent dicks to Rob to be licked clean. So he got to taste plenty of cum before the scene was complete. By the time the last man was done, Enrico, Rob’s throat was well-lubed, and the girl’s face was covered in cum.
“Alright, that’s a wrap,” the director said. He clapped. “I wasn’t sure we’d get through this, but we did it.” He clasped Rob on the shoulder. “I should hire you for all my shoots from now on. You’re better than Wiagro. Write down your email address for me, man.”

The Carpenter

Morgan Cartwright is a bitter man with a powerful need… one that the cute little twink Kwan Tung is eager to help out with! Can Morgan land the job?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Morgan pulled into the house on Maple Street, lost in thought about his daughter. She was dating a man whom Morgan hated. He hoped to come up with a way to get her to dump him. Failing that, he could try to intimidate the boyfriend. He’d done that before.
He was a towering, intimidating figure. He used to be outright muscular, and he was still just as strong. But he was past forty now, and he had a scruffy, hair-covered body. His dirty blond hair was in a long tangle behind his head, his arms ropy and strong but not “cut” like he had been when he was just out of high school. Back then he had a six-pack and thought it would never go away. He could eat anything he wanted to and still he had not a trace of fat. But not anymore. He had a daddy-six-pack and a dad-bod and a dad-beard — he was no longer stacked and he never would be. He wore the same ratty jeans nearly every day. He had on a red flannel shirt and a wifebeater underneath that, so he could take off the shirt if it was too hot in the house.
He knew a lot of females were intimidated when he did that. But he never hurt them, and he didn’t care about making them uncomfortable. If they couldn’t handle letting a carpenter in, they shouldn’t stay home alone.
He grunted and lifted up his toolbox. This was just a railing on a deck, that was all he needed to do here. It wouldn’t take long.
He could already sense that this house was going to have a single housewife here, and she was going to act like Morgan got pushy about asking her out even though he didn’t. He didn’t even flirt with women anymore. If this bitch filed a complaint against him…
He was already fuming about it even before he knocked on the front door. Bet she’d be pretty. Cocktease, but pretty as heckfire… Her name was Asian… Hmm-hmm… Pretty Asian lady actin’ too good fer herself…
The door opened, and Morgan’s jaw dropped. He stood there, unmoving and silent, his hand still upraised and ready to knock even though the door had opened.
It was a man, a very slim, feminine man with a flamboyant lilt to his voice. He had slightly dusky porcelain skin, totally smooth and unmarked. His body had an undeniably female shape, which Morgan couldn’t tear his eyes away from, but he was definitely a man.
“Hi. You must be the carpenter,” said the twink, stretching his long, smooth legs. Did he even shave those? Morgan thought not, they were too perfectly clean. Morgan wanted to lick them from toe to hip.
“Uh-huh.” Morgan grunted. His dick swelled in his filthy jeans. He readjusted himself as he stepped in, so he could walk normally. The homeowner — whose name was Kwan Tung — walked towards the sliding-glass door in the back of the living room, and Morgan watched his ass sway. He wore tight workout shorts which showed off his plump asscheeks.
Morgan’s heart raced, and he felt redness blooming on his chest and shoulders. He wanted Kwan so bad it hurt. He didn’t know why, it was just the feminine energy maybe. He seemed warm and soft, and he probably smelled like a woman and danced like one too, Morgan could just picture Kwan up on stage at the stripclub, pulling those shorts down to reveal perfectly plump asscheeks and a tight hole.
“The deck’s out here,” Kwan said. He opened the sliding-glass door and Morgan followed him out there. Kwan pointed to the wood at the base of the stairs. “So the railing totally fell off in that windstorm we had. It had been loose for awhile. I meant to do something about it, but I never got around to it. Now it fell apart. So I took off what remained of the railing, and I bought the wood down there for you to use.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is that enough wood?” Kwan giggled and blushed. “I mean, I know, you can never have enough wood. Or at least I can never have enough wood.”
“Uh-huh.” Morgan wasn’t even looking at the wood or the deck. He couldn’t think about carpentry right now. His eyes roamed up and down Kwan’s body, imagining what he would look like without any clothes on. He probably had a tiny dick, Morgan thought, just an overgrown clitoris…
Kwan clapped his hands and jumped a little on his feet. “Ooh, did you want something to drink? I made some limeade last night, just to use up some limes. I don’t need that much sugar. You want some?”
“Yeah. Cool.” Morgan grunted. His dark green eyes narrowed to slits, again watching Kwan’s ass sway as he went back into the house.
Left alone, Morgan was able to think for a minute. He calmed himself. He was just horny because his wife wouldn’t put out anymore. He hadn’t fucked in six months. Actually, he realized with a fright, it had been almost a year. What was the point of being married if your bitch-ass wife never even gave you a handjob?
He got out his hammer and some nails, and picked up a piece of wood. He was still frazzled, but once he got started, he thought he could focus enough to keep working.
“Here you go,” Kwan’s delicate voice rang out. He placed the glass of limeade on the table on the deck. It looked cool and delicious, but Morgan didn’t go drink any yet. He didn’t want to go near Kwan and risk becoming uncontrollably aroused. Kwan smiled at him. “I’m just going to do my yoga.”
Morgan assumed that meant Kwan was going inside. He started work, avoiding looking at Kwan. But when he finally lifted his head — having started cutting the wood into shape with a saw — he witnessed Kwan’s ass, cradled by those tight shorts, high in the air.
He was doing his yoga routine right there in the backyard, on a bright pink mat. He wore only a light half-shirt that bared his flat belly and those short-shorts that barely covered up any of his thighs. His asscheeks were partially visible.
After a few minutes, Kwan got up and squealed. “Is that my phone ringing? I hear something!” He ran into the house, brushing past Morgan, who moaned quietly at the touch of Kwan’s smooth body.
Morgan found himself walking into the house even though he had no reason to. He grimaced. He didn’t know what was going to happen now. He hadn’t even put down the saw, which was still in his right hand.
“Hello?” Kwan answered the phone. He scowled and put it down. “Damn telemarketers.”
“Hmm-hm.” Morgan licked his lips and came closer. He put the saw down on the counter. What was he doing? He really had no idea. A part of him realized he wanted to cornhole Kwan, but much of Morgan’s mind refused to accept that. He would never cornhole a man (at least not sober and not in prison or in the Army or various other places where it was acceptable).
But still, he put one of his massive paws on Kwan’s delicate shoulder and pushed down. Kwan looked at him with big wide eyes, which he batted seductively at Morgan.
“Are you okay?”
Morgan cringed and his voice broke. “Please…?”
Kwan blushed. “Did you… need something?”
Morgan’s Western twang echoed in Kwan’s ears. “Please, man… I need somethin’ impo’tant, yessuh. A man gots needs, ya feel me? Real needs. If’n they ain’t respected, you know… I ain’t down wit’ nothin’ unbiblical. But, y’know… God forgives, yessuh, I’m a believer, yes.” He pushed down harder on Kwan’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. But his dick had never been harder. Morgan knew his words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t stop babbling like a moron. “I need summfin’, I got love in my heart. I got a wife, man. You know?”
Kwan still hadn’t gone to his knees, though he felt Morgan pushing him down. Kwan smiled and placed one finger on the bare part of Morgan’s chest, above the cut of his wifebeater. Morgan shuddered and moaned. Kwan smiled. “I’d never want you to cheat on your wife. Is there something I can do to… relieve your urges?”
Morgan grunted. His dick twitched in his jeans. “Man, please… I ain’t… It, uh… It ain’t…”
“But I think as long as you don’t mess around with a woman, you’re not really cheating on her. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Yes. Yeah, I mean, yeah, that makes sense. Uh-huh. Yessuh, uh-huh.” He pushed down harder and came so close his steel-like dick was palpable on Kwan’s flesh through his jeans. Kwan smeared some of the sweat that had collected over Morgan’s upper chest. Morgan moaned. “Man… I ain’t-“
“Hush, you don’t need to worry about that, Morgan,” Kwan said. “You’re a man. You have manly needs. Right, Morgan?”
The sound of his own name coming out of Kwan’s lips made Morgan moan again. His free hand — the one not on Kwan’s shoulder — touched the gentle curve of his waist. He looked so much like a woman.
When Kwan realized Morgan was too nervous to say anything further, Kwan said, “Morgan, I’d like to jerk you off. Is that okay-?”
“Yes! Oh god, yes!” Morgan pushed down on Kwan’s shoulder even harder, then added a second hand. He realized Kwan was still resisting and stopped. But he bucked his hips, virtually dry-humping Kwan’s belly and crotch. “C’mon, man, do it, do it, do it, okay? I need it. I need it. I need you, c’mon. You’re so hot. I ain’t like that.”
“I’m going to get on my knees now-“
“Yes! Yeah, c’mon, hoss! Do it! I need it so bad-“
“But Morgan, relax for a minute. You need to be calm. I don’t want you acting like a caveman and face-plowing me. Can you stand still like a good boy? Let me take charge?” He patted Morgan’s meaty side, and Morgan moaned loudly. His whole face was red, cock ready to burst out of his jeans. Kwan touched his dick through his pants and Morgan buckled. He had to lean against the kitchen counter for support.
“Yeah, yes, okay. Please, man? I need it so bad!”
“Good boy,” Kwan said softly. “Take off your shirt.”
Morgan let out a growl of frustration and ripped his wifebeater in his haste to take it off. His broad, hair-swaddled chest heaved for air as he was too excited to breathe normally. He was dizzy with desire.
“Do you have muscles? I only like to jerk off men who could defend me… you know, against, like… bandits, and stuff.” Kwan giggled as Morgan frowned but flexed his arms. His hairy armpits were bared, and Kwan sucked on each nipple, while his hands caressed Morgan’s biceps and triceps.
“Man… Oh god…” Morgan’s whole body undulated. His hard dick was painful now. He was sure he’d blow his wad the moment it got into Kwan’s mouth. He could already picture it. It’d feel so good rubbing over Kwan’s soft lips, spurting his seed over his face. Morgan touched those lips with his fingers without even thinking about it. His pinkie slipped into Kwan’s mouth, and again, Morgan’s knees buckled.
“Hmmm… You’re so strong,” Kwan said with a flirtatious laugh. “Okay, Morgan, you can take your pants off now.”
Morgan moaned. He raced to undo his belt. His jeans plopped unceremoniously to his ankles, and his dick popped out the fly of his boxers, which were soaked with precum. Kwan licked a trail from Morgan’s nipples to his belly.
“C’mon, man, swallow it… I need to get my dick wet…”
Finally Kwan reached Morgan’s crotch, and he hesitated for just a moment. Morgan’s whole body twitched. Kwan opened wide. He popped the tip in his mouth, and sure enough, Morgan’s orgasm began immediately.
As soon as Kwan’s tongue touched his cocktip, Morgan felt the most amazing pleasure of his life. He had to lean against the counter for support, and he gasped and bit his lip with such enthusiasm blood trickled down his chin. He sucked in his breath.
His whole dick was in Kwan’s throat. Nobody had ever managed to swallow his entire dick, not like this, with Kwan’s nose nuzzling Morgan’s crotch, Morgan’s cock filling up his neck and making him choke lovingly on its veiny shaft.
Kwan didn’t stop. He deep-throated and slathered it with spit, suckling like he hoped to get a prize out of it, while his hands stroked Morgan’s heavy balls and his thick asscheeks.
Finally a burst of creamy cum hit Kwan’s belly. Kwan didn’t let up, no matter how his lungs cried out for oxygen. He breathed the best he could through his nose and around the shaft throbbing in his throat.
The taste was warm and salty, sour and sweet and potent all at once. Kwan loved the taste of cum, and burly middle-aged blue-collar redneck cum, he thought, was the best. He liked how Morgan was unadulterated — he didn’t trim his pubic hair, he didn’t wear cologne, just plain unscented deodorant, and he had corn starch in his crotch because his balls got sweaty sometimes. He didn’t shave his chest, and even his scruffy beard was only there because his wife bitched about it so much he stopped shaving to piss her off.
He shot a massive load too, all built-up from months of frustration. Kwan’s eyes welled up with tears from lack of oxygen, but he refused to disappoint Morgan, so he didn’t pull off, even as more and more cum spurted into his belly.
Morgan’s whole body shook as he underwent the orgasm of a lifetime. Then he took a deep breath, looked down at Kwan as though he was done — though his cock hadn’t moved, and still throbbed veinily against Kwan’s tongue — and opened his mouth to speak. “Uh-” was all he got out, however, before his voice broke and his knees gave out.
“Shit…” Morgan’s red face shook as he slid to the kitchen floor. His cock slipped out of Kwan’s mouth only because Morgan lowered himself, shaking with every inch rubbing over Kwan’s cum-covered tongue.
Kwan let out a sputtering moan as he chased Morgan’s limpening dick. Every time he touched it, Morgan grunted and Kwan giggled.
“C’mon, lemme lick it clean,” Kwan said, and Morgan assented, though he twisted and heaved for air with every touch of Kwan’s tongue on his sensitive dick. “Hmmm… You taste so good… Your wife is a lucky woman.”
Morgan scoffed. His face was ruddy and sweaty. Kwan kissed his chest and his neck, leaving his lips soft enough to avoid giving Morgan a hickey. Morgan barely noticed his kisses, not even when Kwan’s cum-streaked lips kissed Morgan on his mouth. Morgan let Kwan’s tongue enter his mouth, while Kwan caressed his muscles.
Finally Kwan pulled off him. He stood, his bare ass just inches from Morgan’s face. Morgan felt another surge of horniness, tempered by the fact that he had just cum.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Kwan’s ass would feel like though. It looked so tight. Was he intact? He couldn’t be, Morgan thought, no way. He certainly didn’t act like he was intact.
Morgan kissed Kwan’s bare white asscheek, his scruffy beard rubbing against Kwan’s smooth skin. Kwan giggled and pushed his ass onto Morgan’s face.
But Morgan stood. He blushed intensely. He couldn’t believe he had kissed a man’s ass, literally. He sniffled and sucked his teeth like a macho again, and he shook his dick until the last few drops of cum slipped onto the kitchen floor.
“Alrighty then,” Morgan said with a grunt. “I guess I’ll go fix ya railing.”
“Thanks,” Kwan said. He watched Morgan go back outside, and then Kwan cleaned himself up. He could tell he was going to get anal. He could have done it right then and there probably. But he wanted to give Morgan time to build up more cum in those low-hanging daddy-balls. Kwan wanted to feel a massive load exploding within him.
He also wanted the railing built. That was a real job that Kwan actually needed done.
So he didn’t go outside until the railing was finished. Kwan knew the effect he had on horny men, and he didn’t want to risk that Morgan would wind up plowing him all day and never finish. It’d happened before.
Kwan put on a thong and a nighty that barely covered his torso and ended just below his hips. It covered up his crotch and his ass, but only just barely. He knew no men could resist him when he wore this outfit.
When Morgan was finished, he came in. Morgan had told himself he wouldn’t cornhole Kwan in the ass. Getting mouth off a man was one thing, but anal? Morgan didn’t think he could bring himself to do that, not even with a very feminine twink like Kwan. Outside of prison, etc. He wasn’t a booty bandit.
But he looks so good…
Having not actually seen him for several hours, Morgan was able to convince himself that it wouldn’t be an issue. He had been unspeakably horny earlier because of his wife constantly blue-balling him. He wasn’t horny now, since he had gotten the orgasm of a lifetime from Kwan already. He didn’t need to bust a nut.
When Morgan walked into the house though, he saw Kwan’s thong-clad ass poking out from that negligée he wore and Morgan’s whole body shook once again. That was a woman’s ass. Morgan really felt like he could look in Kwan’s crotch and find a pussy. He knew that wasn’t true — he had actually seen Kwan jacking off — but it sure felt true. Morgan could picture it. The negligée even made it look like Kwan had small perfectly formed tits, which seemed reasonable since he was small and Asian, if he were a woman, he’d probably have tits about that size and an ass just like that, and Morgan would be unable to resist trying to fuck her.
The only difference between that and this was that Kwan was not female. It seemed like a minor problem to Morgan’s dick, but his mind felt it was important.
Kwan was bent over by the oven, putting a load of sliced carrots in there. He had had them all arranged in a baking dish, but they slid all over each other as he placed the dish in the oven. He pushed them back into a single-layer, working quickly and gingerly because the oven was already hot. He swayed his ass back and forth in front of Morgan’s face.
“Sorry, I just wanted to cook these carrots,” Kwan said. He still hadn’t turned around, so he only knew Morgan was there because he heard him. “They’ve been sitting in my refrigerator for weeks, I wanted to cook them. They were starting to get floppy.” Kwan giggled. “I know you don’t have that problem.”
“Hm-hmm.” Morgan grunted. He came up behind Kwan, his jeans rubbing against Kwan’s ass. “Hey, uh, man, can I cornhole you-?”
Kwan closed the oven door. He turned around and blushed. “Won’t that hurt? You have such a big dick.”
“Man…” Morgan blushed. “Man, I mean… I’ll do it however you want. Man, please… I need it. I’ll cornhole you so right, man-“
“But your dick is so big,” Kwan said with a nervous, blushing giggle. He rubbed his hands over Morgan’s hairy, bare belly. “It’ll hurt real bad.”
“I’ll be nice. I’ll be so gentle,” Morgan said, his voice breathless and wavering.
“Will you lick it first?”
“Yes!” Morgan blanched. He had never licked any ass and wasn’t sure he wanted to do it.
But then he remembered how bare and smooth and perfectly clean Kwan’s ass was. He could eat that. It would be cleaner than his wife’s pussy, and he used to eat that all the time, back when he thought it might help his marriage.
“Okay! But you have to be so gentle! You’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever taken,” Kwan said. That part wasn’t strictly true, but Morgan did have a big dick and Kwan knew telling him it was the biggest would ensure he was genuinely gentle. Plus it made Morgan puff up his muscles and chew on his lip swaggerously. Kwan pulled down Morgan’s pants and bared his dick again.
This time, however, Kwan didn’t want to do it in the kitchen. He grabbed Morgan’s cock and led him down the hall, into the bedroom.
“Take your clothes off, sweetie,” Kwan said. He handed over a tube of lube. “And put plenty of this on your cock.”
Kwan kissed his nipples and massaged his back as he did. Morgan hurried to take his clothes off, then used most of the tube on his dick. Then Kwan climbed up onto the bed on all fours, lifting his ass high in the air.
It was perfectly round and plump and juicy. Morgan took a deep breath — surprised to find that Kwan’s ass smelled like rose and lavender — before kissing first one cheek, then the other. Kwan wiggled his ass. Morgan’s dick throbbed.
He put his tongue out, surprised to find that Kwan tasted just a bit of salt, but was otherwise mainly flavorless. He could smell a bit of that floral soap too, but the actual taste of his ass was neutral. His tongue slid into the crack of Kwan’s dick and again was surprised at how tasteless it was — just a bit salty and musky.
The closer he got to Kwan’s asshole, the more Morgan realized it tasted exactly like a pussy — a clean, fragrant pussy, unlike his wife’s. By the time Morgan’s lips got to that tight hole, his hesitation had vanished. His tongue plunged right into Kwan’s asshole.
Kwan cried out. There was a burst of pain too, which was a surprise — Morgan’s tongue was massive, and he shoved the whole thing into Kwan’s small ass. But that was just because Kwan was surprised at how eager Morgan was. His soft tongue soon turned that pain into pleasure as it teased Kwan’s prostate and filled his ass with moisture.
“Oh god,” Kwan’s voice was high and wavering. He squirmed beneath Morgan’s scruffy head, which scratched at his ass.
“Hmmm… You taste real good,” Morgan said. He returned to lapping at Kwan’s ass, alternately exploring his insides and slathering his sphincter in spit.
Kwan gasped. “You’ve got the greatest tongue, sweetie. I’m nice and wide open now, you can ram me.”
“Oh god, thank you, baby, thank you, I need this,” Morgan said. He had never begged a woman like this. He still didn’t quite understand how Kwan could have this kind of effect, but he couldn’t deny how he felt. He needed to get into Kwan’s ass.
He spread his cheeks with both hands, eyes opened wide at the sight of that hole, which was tight and loose at once, stretched from Morgan’s tongue yet ready to clench tightly at a moment’s notice. Morgan rammed the tip in as quickly as he could.
Kwan grunted and shook. A jolt of pain ran up his spine, but Morgan patted him patiently and caressed his smooth back, which minimized the agony and made it manageable.
“‘S okay, baby, I’m-a make nice, sweet love to you,” Morgan said. His voice was throaty and moist. “Does it hurt?”
“Just a little,” Kwan said, his voice a faint whisper. He mewled and clawed at the ground. “It’s okay though, baby, you can keep plowing.”
“I won’t hurt’cha,” Morgan said. He felt an almost-uncontrollable need to plow as hard as he could, but he didn’t want to hurt Kwan. He wanted to experience every moment of this. He figured that, if he plowed gently now, Kwan would adjust to him, and then Morgan could go to town. He’d never been able to fuck a girl in the ass and have her take the whole thing enthusiastically. He could tell that Kwan would let him do that, if only Morgan could go slow enough until he was ready.
So he drilled his dick in, inch by inch, stopping every time he saw Kwan shake or shudder. Morgan was so excited to bust a nut that he hadn’t taken a breath since this began. When he started to get dizzy, he forced himself to breathe as he slid another inch of dickmeat into Kwan’s ass.
“Hmmm….” Kwan moaned. He reached behind himself to pour more lube onto his ass. That helped Morgan’s cock slide in, and soon, Kwan felt Morgan’s balls slap against the bottom of his ass.
“Oh… Ah… Uh….” Morgan was going to say something, but the pleasure coursing through his veins was too intense to form any words. All he could do was writhe and pump, grinding his hips over Kwan’s ass.
“Cornhole me, daddy,” Kwan said, cringing, his voice breaking. He sucked in his breath as Morgan began to pound. He went slowly at first, removing his dick in one long motion, and then ramming it in in a slightly swifter motion.
When Kwan moaned orgasmically, Morgan plowed a little harder. Kwan’s feet lifted off the ground and he threw his head back to moan. He clawed at the air in front of him.
“Oh… Oh…” Kwan’s face turned red. “Can I bite on your arm when the pressure feels too good, daddy?”
He placed one thick forearm in front of his face. The pleasure in his cock was so intense he barely even noticed Kwan bite down on his muscles and suck on his arm-hair.
But he could sense Kwan relaxing, his ass opening up, and Morgan rammed back and forth harder to compensate. He moaned, his baritone voice echoing in Kwan’s ear, as Morgan squirmed atop him.
Somehow — Morgan hadn’t noticed this happen — he was on top of Kwan, pounding away at his ass. Kwan was tiny and couldn’t quite support Morgan’s body, but he didn’t mind, he liked the feel of Morgan’s rough-stubbled chest rubbing over his smooth back.
Morgan pulled his face back and kissed him on the lips as he orgasmed suddenly, deep into Kwan’s ass. Kwan moaned and came at the same time, shooting his wad onto the floor. Kwan squirmed and gasped, kissing Morgan back but also nibbling on his lower lip when the feelings got to be too intense to take.
A massive load of cum drained into him. Kwan was shocked it was so big considering he had already cum once today, but Morgan’s balls were on overtime now that he had started plowing again. It had been so long. Morgan moaned directly into Kwan’s ears, and he left a layer of sweat on Kwan’s smooth back.
“Goddamn.” Morgan’s voice broke. A few more drops of cum filled Kwan’s ass.
“Hmmm…” Kwan moaned and sucked on the meaty muscle of Morgan’s forearm. “Hmmm… You’re an excellent carpenter.” He giggled.
Morgan ignored him. He kept on grinding his dick in Kwan’s ass, working out every last drop of cum. His balls were tightly drawn up against his body. Morgan’s whole body buckled atop Kwan’s back.
Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, and Morgan pulled off. His cheeks were bright red. His cock gleamed with moisture. Morgan was too shocked and a bit ashamed of himself to respond. All he could do was sit there on the floor by the bed and watch as Kwan cleaned his ass off.
“Oh you poor baby, you’re so tired,” Kwan said. He kissed Morgan chastely on the lips as he wiped his cock off with some tissues. “Do you want to take a nap with me? I’ll rub your back.”
Morgan was too tired to even say yes. He didn’t think he’d gotten a backrub since high school He sprawled out on Kwan’s silken sheets and let his muscles all relax at once. He was sound asleep from the moment Kwan’s delicate fingers touched his shoulders.
Kwan rubbed his back for a few minutes, then curled up next to him like a cat and went to sleep. He nuzzled Morgan’s bicep.
“Thanks for the railing,” Kwan said. “Maybe when you wake up, I’ll think of something else I could hire you for.” But Morgan still didn’t wake up, so Kwan just kissed him on the cheek and slept in his arms.
It was the best sleep of Morgan’s life, and his nap ended up taking all night and into the next morning. He awoke to the feel of Kwan’s soft body rubbing over him, Kwan’s tongue cleaning some of the night-time sweat off his chest. Morgan sighed and smiled.
He thought he might never leave here.

The Idiotic Lifeguard

When Rob seeks some work as a ghostwriter, he didn’t think it would involve interviewing a hunky but dim-witted lifeguard! His name is Gavin, and he’s willing to get down and dirty with Rob in exchange for a little consideration…

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Nobody hired writers who seemed like businessmen, even if that’s exactly what Rob was — he’d started a business as a ghostwriter. Clients hired writers who seemed like J.D. Salinger or Stephen King: a little socially awkward, a little artsy, a little weird.
And the nerds who filled the Dynamic Enterprise offices were more than a little socially awkward, not to mention weird, themselves. They would have likely been intimidated if Rob said straight up, “hey, I can write ten thousand words in a day so I’ll write your stupid thing in a week rather than dilly-dallying for months like most writers”. So instead Rob dressed in a flared cuff and a colorful shirt, accentuated his flamboyant side and spoke of how his “muse spouted a stream of inspiration to fill the world with words”.
They seemed to like him. He was probably by far the coolest person to ever come into this place — which was an IT company that provided support for something to do with the Internet — Rob didn’t quite grok it when they explained what it was. He would figure it out as he wrote the “biography” of their company.
“Do you think that would work? Or does it need to be the story of a specific person? Sorry, I dunno how that works,” said a bespectacled man in an ill-fitting suit. “I don’t, uh, read a lot. Except for, like, technical manuals.”
“Certainly, certainly, people do write books about a company, rather than a specific person, sure. I find it interesting-” Rob leaned forward and put one finger on his lips as though pondering. “-that you used the word biography. Fascinating. That’s the story of a life, and I think a company can have a life… can be a life, a growing, adapting, evolving thing-“
“Yeah, like a shark.”
Everyone in the conference room turned to look at the man walking in, and they all exchanged knowing glances. Rob’s jaw dropped because the newcomer was handsome — Gavin, a blond god with broad shoulders and a square jaw, dimples like a heartthrob and a smooth chin. He had a goofy grin like a cartoon character, and his eyes flitted brightly around the room as though expecting his shark comment to get a big reaction.
He was so handsome he made Rob’s heart skip a beat, but everyone else sighed inwardly, rolled their eyes and looked away. Did this guy have a reputation?
“I, uh… I’m sorry?” Rob said.
The blond man, Gavin, came in, carefully carrying eight coffees in two cardboard holders. He didn’t seem to have realized he could carry them like a waiter, on his forearms, and instead he awkwardly leaned back and pinned them against each other. It looked like they might spill at any moment.
“Oh, uh, I- Uh — ” Gavin was distracted by setting down the coffees. “You said something about growing and evolving, right? I have this game on my phone-“
“Yeah, thanks, Gavin-” said one of the programmers.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“-And it’s about a shark, like… you’re a shark — you’re not really a shark, I mean, you’re, like, totally playing as a shark? You see? There’s evolution. Cuz you can eat like… fish and, uh…” He spaced out for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Bigger fish, and like… like, you spend points on growing and evolving.” He ran his fingers through that incredible blond mane reaching almost to his shoulders. It was ragged and uncut, and it made Rob’s eyes open wide. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair. “So, uh… sharks do that. Grow and evolve. They can evolve into killer whales, I think, at like level 30. I don’t think real sharks do that.”
“Thanks, Gavin, for the coffee.”
“Thank you, Gavin.”
They all repeated that, one by one, until Gavin got the hint and left. Then they snickered, each of them seemingly thinking of all the snarky comments they didn’t want to say. Were they being nice to Gavin because they were nice people? Because he was nice — if ditzy? Because they were told to be nice to him?
“Sorry,” one of them said. “He’s… a great guy. Not the best assistant.”
“He’s the worst assistant. Totally incompetent.”
“Honestly we only hired him because he was a lifeguard who saved Mr. Winthrop’s daughter at the beach.”
Rob’s ears perked up. Finally, one of the nerds had said something interesting. A beachfront rescue by a lifeguard is worth writing about. Rob could stretch that into 15,000 words, maybe 20k. “Can I ask him more about that? That would be a great scene for the book.”
“Really? It’s a bad business decision. He’s not even a good assistant,” the man said as he sipped from the coffee and sighed. “This is definitely soy milk. Jerry, this is for you, he mixed us up again.” He rolled his eyes. “We have two Jerrys and a Barry, and that blond dumbass can’t ever keep us apart.”
They traded coffees until they got the ones they wanted, and Rob took a few more notes. Of course, they hired him, and they didn’t even balk at Rob’s rate. He would have this written in less than a week, he thought. When Rob had floated “something like a novella”, they nodded along, so he was going to write it at maybe 40,000 words. He could bang that out in a weekend if he went to a coffeeshop with broken wifi.
Even more excitingly, they arranged for Rob to meet with Gavin at lunch the next day, to find out more about Gavin’s heroic rescue of the little girl. Rob got a skeleton of the book written containing just the facts — that was already fifteen thousand words — and wrote down some questions to ask Gavin.
That near-drowning-cum-job-offer was the only human-interest story in the company’s history, so it was going to have to have a lot of emotional resonance, Rob thought. He hoped Gavin had something interesting to say. Without that, this corporate bio was going to be dry as a desert. Nerds are boring, and the companies they found are even worse.
Rob and Gavin met up at a coffeeshop near the company’s headquarters, where Gavin filled (incorrectly) coffee orders for most of the programmers. Rob was a little early, to get his laptop set up. Gavin showed up and went straight to the counter without noticing Rob.
His ass filled out his slacks nicely. He had big thumping thighs too, Rob thought, and his shirt hung off him like a dream. He must have the most exquisite back. He was a lifeguard too, he probably has great shoulders. Rob straightened his tie.
His physique was probably stupendous. Rob was picturing it as he waited for Gavin to notice him. When he did, he nodded and waved like they were old friends, and he almost forgot to pick up his coffee and key lime pie.
“Oh man, you’re outta them? Shit, dude, that’s… ah, totally lame,” Gavin said. “Do you have more in the back?” He loved the key lime pie here. He batted his eyes at the portly girl behind the counter, who blushed and licked her lips. Gavin had no idea he was flirting. He acted that way with most girls, and he just assumed he was charismatic. The portly girl batted her eyes and ran into the back to get more of the key lime pies.
Finally Gavin sat down with a slice of key lime pie and a “coffee” that was more whipped cream than anything else. It looked like a milkshake. He must burn off so many calories to eat like that and have a body like this, Rob thought to himself, wondering if he still worked as a lifeguard. That would explain it.
“So, uh, Gavin, thanks for meeting me here. Can you tell me more about Mr. Winthrop’s daughter?”
“Oh, yeah, man, she’s sweet as pie-” He pointed to the key lime pie. “And, uh, she’s like, nine, I think, or something. She really likes the boy band Slap Five. They suck though, really, it’s like so awful.” He beatboxed his impression of a tinny pop melody. “So lame.”
“Sorry, Gavin, I’m not asking about her in general. Can you tell me more about the time you rescued her from downing?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, totally,” Gavin said. He took a big bite of key lime pie, leaving a brilliant green streak across his lower lip. “I was like, a lifeguard, like, on this beach, you know, on the Pacific Ocean. I was still living in Southern California then. And so-” He again paused to take a bite, then spoke with his mouthful. “There’s like, all these swimmers and shit, and Robby Munter said his cousin once got, like, nibbled on by a shark or something, but he didn’t get eat up cuz he drank a lot of coffee and that makes you taste bitter to sharks or whatever, like-“
“Gavin?”
“Yeah, sorry, I mean, Jean. She was like… a little girl. And I swam her into shore. And the other lifeguard on duty was this chick who got knockers out to here, man, seriously, I saw ’em once, shit, they were like fireworks, sherrrrplooowfat! And-“
“Gavin?”
“Totally, totally sweet, man, she’s got big nipples too. She’s got a boyfriend though, I think they’re married now. He’s like Persian or something. It’s ridiculous.”
“Can we get back to the story?”
“Is Persia where the cats come from? My mom has a Persian cat, it’s name is Rample and it smells like cheese.”
“Okay, Gavin, can we please talk about Jean?”
“Yeah, sorry — can we go outside? I hate being inside,” Gavin said. He flashed those big dimples and got up before waiting for an answer. Rob sighed and went with him. It was kind of cold outside, and it wouldn’t be as easy to use his laptop with the glare and the wind. But he could just record Gavin and write down what he needed later. Besides that, it was hard to say no to someone with a smile like Gavin’s.
And the way his arms nearly bulged out of that button-down shirt. It made Rob’s heart flutter. He loved macho men, and Gavin was one of the best he’d seen in a long time.
Gavin fidgeted with his tie as they sat down at the coffeeshop’s patio. Then he frowned and quickly untied it. “Is it okay if I take off my tie, sir?”
“Um, yeah. You know I’m not your boss, right? I don’t care what you wear-“
“Thank you!” Gavin quickly unbuttoned his shirt, then leaned back to display his chest for the sun. He was bronzed a deep tan color, and his body was perfect, shimmering a little in the sunlight, his six-pack rippling, his pecs flexing as he stretched. “I hate wearing shirts, man. I was a lifeguard for nine years. Shirts are like prisons for your chest, man. Totally.”
“Yeah. Cool. Okay. So… uh, Jean?” Rob looked around. This wasn’t the kind of coffeeshop that would tolerate a diner drinking coffee shirtless, but he didn’t tell Gavin that.
“Right, yeah. She’s cool. She’s sweet, man.”
“Tell me about the rescue, Gavin.” Rob was still a bit turned on from the sight of Gavin’s bare chest, but his annoyance was enough to make him wrinkle his nose. Gavin was so dumb and so easily distracted, it was a wonder he ever even functioned as a lifeguard.
“I don’t know, man, she was like waving her hands and stuff.” He shrugged. “There’s not much to say. I swam out there, brought her back to the shore. She was fine. She told her daddy she almost drowned, and that was the same day I got in a fight with my boss about boobs and I got fired. So he gave me a job here.”
Rob rubbed his forehead. “You got in a fight about boobs?”
“Yeah. He said Lindsay Tanner had better boobs than Sally Anne Whitaker-“
“The actresses?”
“Yeah.”
“And he fired you because you disagreed?”
“It was total bullshit! Lindsay Tanner looks like she has manboobs-“
“Gavin… I’m going to leave that part out of the book,” Rob said. “I’m just gonna say you were late a lot, so you got fired, okay?”
“Cool. I was late a lot. He said that was a reason to fire me too. Did you see Sally Anne Whitaker in River of Screams? Man, in that white blouse when it got wet? You could see the full tit, man, totally. Nipple and everything. Don’t you think she’s hotter than Lindsay Tanner-?”
Rob smiled. “But yes, I agree with you, Sally Anne Whitaker has marvelous breasts. I’d love to lick them or whatever.”
“Yeah, licking’s cool.”
“Okay, well…” Rob sighed. “I’m going to have to add something to make this a more interesting story, okay? Something besides ‘she waved so I swam out there’. Was there a bad undertow in that area? Rumors of sharks? Electric eels? Stinging jellyfish? Drug cartels in motorboats? Industrial pollution? Was she injured? Was she mentally ill? Did the beach management play a negligent role?”
Gavin said no to all that, and when Rob ran out of ideas, Gavin cleared his throat. “Hey, man, so you’re like… totally into stuff, right?”
“Yes.” Rob didn’t know what Gavin was referring to, but he was a great admirer of the male physique, and Gavin’s was remarkable, so Rob intended to agree with him as much as possible. He liked agreeing with handsome men.
“So, like… I know this guy… He was like totally, like, he was really cool, but like… he knew this guy who was like older… older than you, but older than him too, and… totally… like, I, uh… he said that, like, this guy… like… sometimes did like… where he paid money… uh for things, like…” Gavin’s deep voice grew increasingly pinched as he rambled and blushed. “For… things… you could do. Like… for… in exchange for money… Do guys really do that?”
Rob scrunched his eyebrows. “Yes, that’s right. Guys sometimes exchange services for things.”
“Really?!” His big blue eyes lit up.
“Yes, Gavin.” Rob smiled and patted Gavin on the bicep. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
“Yeah! I live right over there,” he said. He got up and nearly left his shirt and tie on the chair. Rob got it for him and followed him out the door. The shirt smelled of him, of sunlight and seaspray and sand. Rob walked a little behind him so he could see his ass sway in his tight slacks, and his brown back glisten in the sunlight. He went across the street to a small apartment building.
When he had opened up the door to the lobby of his building, he looked back at Rob a little fearfully. “So, uh… what do you want to do? I mean… jacking off, right? You’ll swallow my cum, right? Girls never want to do that.”
Rob smiled. “I would be glad like to jack you off and swallow your cum, Gavin. I’ll give you-” Gavin blushed and pumped his biceps, cheering himself on. Rob waited for him to stop, by which point they were at his apartment door. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
“Oh.” Gavin looked crestfallen as he opened the door. “Ryan Delgado said he got two-fifty, y’know… to cornhole a man.”
“Oh? You’d be willing to do that — fine, that’s a lot of money, but I’ll do it,” Rob said. “I didn’t think you’d do me up the ass.” Once the door to Gavin’s apartment swung shut, Rob came up behind him and kissed the broad, smooth flesh of his back.
Gavin laughed a little nervously, which made his back muscles flex beneath Rob’s kisses. “Sweet, sweet. You’re not gonna tell the guys at work about this, will you? They’ll make fun of me.”
“It’s our little secret,” Rob said. “Why don’t you sit down, sweetie?”
Gavin obediently sat. He blushed until his tanned cheeks were almost burgundy, and he unzipped his slacks. He kicked his shoes off, and in seconds, he was down to his boxers. He sighed like he had been waiting do that for a long time. “Shit, I love a mouth. I don’t care who jacks me off. There used to be this chick who’d get me drunk and suck me off. She was like… super-nerdy. Like you don’t even know, like… she was weird. She did math. For fun! Like homework, but like… no school! It was insane! And, uh, like… she looked like a total nerd. She wore glasses. But she loved my cock-“
“Uh-huh. Don’t talk about ugly girls when I am on your dick,” Rob said. He got down on his knees in front of Gavin on the couch. His hands reached up to tweak Gavin’s nipples, making his pecs ripple and bounce. A nervously aroused laugh came outta Gavin, whose cheeks turned red. Rob pulled his fat cock out of the fly of his boxers and put the tip in his mouth.
Gavin murmured, “okay, sorry,” and put his hands behind his head. He leaned back on his couch as his dick stiffened up in Rob’s mouth. “Sorry, sorry.”
What was he apologizing for? If Rob’s mouth wasn’t full, he would have asked. Rob slurped on the tip of his still only part hard cock, and Gavin again laughed like a teenage girl with a baritone voice. His movement made his dick jab around in Rob’s mouth, which also made it hump the surface of Rob’s tongue.
That sent a wave of pleasure into Gavin’s body and a wave of arousal into Rob’s. Both men’s dicks raced to full erection, and Rob energetically slathered spit up and down the shaft. Gavin su ked in his breath.
Soon his was rock-hard, throbbing, leaking a few drops of precum down his throat. It was salty like the sea, warm and smooth. Gavin kept laughing every few seconds, sounding almost like he was ticklish though Rob could tell that wasn’t it — he was nervous.
“Shit, man, you feel just like a girl, that’s awesome. Ryan Delgado said his dude had a mustache and it scratched at his dick-” Gavin made a face like that was the grossest thing he had ever heard. “-but you have a smooth face, that’s nice…” And his voice broke, making him groan and grip Rob’s face. He plowed into and out of his mouth all without missing a beat as he talked. “And you’re not as old as he is. That’s cool, I dunno if I could get jacked off by a really old dude. Like really old. That’s so weird. Like… maybe if he paid a lot of money, y’know.”
Rob pulled off his cock and smacked his lips. He nodded, but he mostly ignored him as Gavin kept talking about how weird it’d be to be jacked off by an old dude. Rob was mollified that he apparently did not count as an “old dude”, though Gavin did call him “too old for college girls”, and Rob explained that there was no such thing. Rob may have appreciated the male physique, but he enjoyed the feminine one as well.
But with Gavin’s cock now fully erect and throbbing in Rob’s grip, both men were ready to move on. When Rob touched Gavin’s cock just a bit, the result was a painful-looking spasm of sensations erupting within Gavin’s body. The sound he made may have been a moan originally, but it turned into ironically moaning laugh partway through.
Once Rob had lubed up his ass carefully, backed himself up and lowered his ass onto Gavin’s dick. Gavin remained seated on the couch, head leaning back, like he didn’t want to touch Rob any more than necessary. His eyes opened wide as his knob teased the rim of Avery’s asshole.
But he kept talking, even as his dick throbbed and spewed precum. “Old people are crazy, like my grandmom goes to the cable company to pay her bill. Like she actually goes to the cable place. Like in a car. Like… in person. They have, like, a window.” His broad chest muscles rippled as he suppressed another nervous laugh. “Ah, shit, I love anal, girls never wanna do it, damn…”
“Uh-huh.” Rob had to lean with one hand on Gavin’s firm chest, holding onto him for support. An intense pressure shot through his body, and Rob let out a little, desperate grunt. Gavin’s muscles rippled, and Avery gripped the flesh of his bicep. He had rarely felt skin that musucular.
That touch finally made Gavin shut up for a couple minutes. He even lifted his head to watch, eyes slowly widening, as his dick squeezed into Rob’s tight ass. He watched as though flummoxed, like he couldn’t understand why his dick was doing that.
“Oh that’s so weird — it’s like… just like a girl, totally,” Gavin said. He scrunched his eyes shut tightly. He now faced Rob’s back as it slid up and down, but his eyes remained shut like there was a horror film on he didn’t want to see. His hands roamed in the air above Rob’s back. “Oh god — shit.” Gavin’s voice broke again, and turned serious. “Goddamn, man.”
Rob had to laugh, now that Gavin had stopped, as though Gavin had thought this was all a joke right up until this moment, when he felt an intense pleasure gathering deep in his loins. Rob stroked himself off with one hand, while the other leaned back and kneaded Gavin’s chest.
An explosion of pleasure in Rob’s body made him throw his head back and moan. Obviously, Gavin’s dick was knocking on Rob’s prostate, which always felt even more amazing when the top didn’t understant what he was doing.
His ass rose up and down, Gavin’s cock stroking his insides and sending shiver after shiver of pleasure up Rob’s spine. His whole world exploded in sparks of desire, and Rob writhed like he was in pain impaled on that spider’s spiked body, Rob cried out, muffling the sound at first before remembering he didn’t need to. He let out a howl as he reached his own orgasm just seconds before Gavin did the same.
Cum flew out of Rob’s cock and into his free hand, while Gavin’s load filled him up. It sprayed through every corner of his insides, sending a wave of mind-numbing pleasure through Rob’s body. It kept coming too, over and over, as Gavin’s dick moistly explored his ass. Rob had never felt anything quite like this.
His orgasm seemed to last an hour, and there was fluid everywhere. But somehow, intolerably long after it began, it was over, and Rob fell limp. There was so much cum inside him Rob could smell it, even though none had spilled and in fact Gavin’s cock remained in his ass, limp and spent. So why could Rob smell it? It wasn’t his own cum. Whatever it was, it was strong, and it made Rob want to fuck some broad.
Gavin’s ass wetly slid out of him and flopped onto his thigh. Gavin let out a sweat-soothing groan, while Rob squeezed next to him on the couch. Gavin’s body heat enveloped him.
“Shit, man,” Gavin finally said. “It’s so cool, that, like… I can do that and it isn’t even gross, y’know, I can just picture a girl. Totally.”
Rob leaned in to kiss Gavin on the neck. “Yeah. I did it better than any girl though, didn’t I?”
Gavin blushed. “Yeah.” He looked down. “I still like girls though, totally. With boobs — hell, yeah-“
Rob shrugged. “I just wanted to point out that I’m better.” He wiped his dick clean, as Gavin did the same thing with a paper towel. Rob went to his wallet, stretching his sore legs. “Let me give you the money.”
“Cool. Awesome,” Gavin said. “Are you gonna… wanna do this again?”

The Boyfriend

Forrest is a studly alpha trying to impress his hippie neopagan girlfriend, leading to an incredible man-on-man encounter! Forrest has gotta prove he doesn’t have any hangups, even if that means letting a man taking a hardcore swing on his manly meat!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“I’m sexually open,” said the other neopagan, the one who wasn’t hot. “I think that part of having a really open view of everything is being able to see the beauty in all people.”
“Yeah, totally…”
“That is so true! Beauty is all around us!”
Avery sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to spend this much time here, but one of the guys had such an amazing physique he couldn’t bring himself to leave. They were all shirtless — even the women were topless — and some of the women had gotten completely nude (or “skyclad”).
The one man Avery couldn’t tear his eyes away from was dappled in twilight sweat. He didn’t fit in with the others, and he sat apart from them at a picnic table, near the girl he had come here with. Avery watched him out of the corner of his eye, as he nodded along with the rest of the coven.
“Sexual expression is the holiest mode of art, after all,” said another one of the neopagans.
“The prudish media will never allow the sexual power of someone like me to be seen,” someone else said, a lumpy woman with an asymmetrical haircut and an acne-scarred face. “Because once they lose their monopoly on beauty, true power will flow to the people.”
The neopagans all rushed to agree. The only one who didn’t seem full-throatedly in concordance was the one Avery liked. His name was Forrest, and he was a burly, hairy-chested alpha male, a minor league baseball player who laid asphalt by day and was, seemingly, a neopagan. His strapping body had bulged from his overalls before he took them off and revealed his powerful torso and thunder thighs. He didn’t look like a neopagan, Avery thought.
Avery was also not neopagan. He had happened upon this coven when he was out for a walk in the park. He was removed from the situation, so for him, it was painfully obvious that Forrest wasn’t here because he had an earnest interest in the Wiccan holiday of Samhain.
Forrest was here for only one reason: to bang Vicky Suncross. She was the hot chick with the big, juicy nipples and an ass like a welcome-home sign.
It was clear he had only come to hang out with these neopagans because he wanted to bang Vicky. Pretending to celebrate Samhain was simply what he needed to do to get inside her. Men would do a lot for a woman like Vicky, who was soft and nice and had tits like sweaters. Forrest kept looking at her and blushing as if he hadn’t yet approached her and was working up the nerve.
Avery was less interested in her. He liked Forrest, the macho work-hard with a Southern accent, rippling muscles and an iron cross neck-tat.
Forrest was hot, big, horny, and he looked like the kind of guy who might give Avery a taste of his meat with the right incentive. On the other hand, Vicky seemed like the high-libido free-love kind of girlfriend, and she might even give him blowjobs. She seemed like the type. Sex-positive. Not picky about locations and settings. Probably likes getting caught. You can always tell the ones who like getting caught.
“Yeah, I think, uh… open… uh… sex is, like… okay.” Forrest said. He blushed like a shy cranberry and bit his lip. His baritone voice didn’t meld with the other women and lightweight men like Avery. You could tell from his voice he did something with his hands for a living, he was used to shouting over machinery.
Vicky touched his arm and whispered something softly that Avery didn’t quite hear. She was doing hand motions over some candles. She had explained the purpose, but Avery couldn’t have feigned interest in that even if she had put a gun to his head. It was a neopagan thing, some sort of ceremonial activity to garner, who knows, good luck or some dumb bullshit like that. Vicky might have mentioned “fertility”, like she was some kinda farmer who cared about how productive the landscape was. Bet she never grew a vegetable in her life.
He had only really agreed to come to the celebration to be polite and to eat the food. But the food turned out to be vegan, so he lost interest after a few bites. That wasn’t a bad thing, really, he had gone for a walk in the park to burn calories. Eating a big meal on the walk would have been counterproductive. But he did not enjoy the vegetables and quinoa he had eaten. It was not even very good by vegetables-and-quinoa standards, which were very low indeed.
The only reason Avery had stayed was Forrest. And now, as the coven began to thin, Avery was desperate to find a way to offer him money for a chance to swing on his dick.
Forrest’s deep, barrel-chested voice shocked Avery out of his reverie. “I got this cherry fuckin’ El Camino, in perfect condition. This guy literally cleaned the engine, the actual engine. He cleaned it… with like… a rag,” Forrest said. He went on to describe the car thoroughly — he had gotten his boss to front him the last two hundred dollars he needed in lieu of a Christmas bonus — which he was very excited about. Avery didn’t care about the El Camino, but he did care about Forrest’s rumbling voice and the sweat clinging to his bare chest. There were smudges of paint on his biceps and forearms from when he had participated in some sort of Wiccan ceremony before Avery arrived. Forrest ended his story with an angry afterthought. “But I ain’t realize they gonna charge me an arm and a leg for the insurance, man, that shit is messed up,” he said. “Now I might not be able to keep it. Insurance is messed up. Man. Right? Whole thing is messed up.”
Nobody else much cared about Forrest’s car either. They coughed, smiling politely. Forrest noticed how poorly he fit in with Vicky’s friends, and he looked down at the picnic table. He rolled his eyes and sighed. He wished he hadn’t told the story. Vicky patted him on the well-muscled arm.
After that, a big chunk of the others excused themselves — they all drove together, so they left together — which triggered a few others to head home too. The coven dwindled. The body odor problem improved when that thick bundle of “Lithuanian pantheon” neopagans left. Apparently Lithuanian neopagans don’t believe in Jesus or deodorant.
Finally, before Avery knew it, the coven was down to him, Forrest and Vicky.
“So, were you serious about what you said? About sexuality being open and stuff?” Avery asked Forrest. “Because that was really cool. Profound.”
“Yeah, it was, sweetie!” Vicky said, patronizingly supportive. She squeezed Forrest’s bicep, which bulged like Popeye.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, man. I mean… Yeah.” Forrest blushed and ran his fingers through his dense, tangled mop of black hair. He kept his arm low like he was trying not to bare his armpit.
“Well… if you wanted some help paying for the insurance on that El Camino, I have a proposition,” Avery said. “If it’s okay with your girlfriend.” He paused. “Will you give me a chance on your cock? I’ll PayUp you a thousand dollars to let me taste your dick. I’ll swallow. I always do. I’ll go deep.” This was not the kind of thing Avery would normally mention in front of a woman, but he sensed that Vicky would approve. She said her last boyfriend was black, and you know what that means as far as ramrodding goes.
She probably watched.
His eyes opened wide when his ears caught up to Avery’s words. Vicky squealed and giggled like she had never heard anything so silly. They both blushed. She blushed a bright red immediately, then laughed. His eyes bugged out, and he blushed very slowly, growing from tan to ruddy to bright red over the next few minutes.
Forrest blushed. “Oh, uh…” He looked at Vicky as though hoping she would forbid it, but it was clear she was into it. “I, uh…”
“Oh my god, you need this, sweetie,” she said. She looked at Avery. “He’s got a really big dick. He wants me to throat it down, but I’m like, no way. I’ll swallow half your pinkie finger, that’s it, that’s my limit.” She laughed; she held up one of her pinkies to demonstrate. Forrest wrinkled his nose like he was annoyed at her. She put her pinkie in her mouth as though to demonstrate that it didn’t fit.
Avery smiled. “Big cocks are wasted on you, you crazy bitch,” he said, which made her laugh harder. She slapped her knee. Avery looked up at Forrest’s beet-red face. “You alright? You into this?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah… Fine… Okay… Whatever, sure. Okay.” He closed his eyes and sighed again. He looked at Vicky. “Are you sure this is okay with you? You won’t be jealous…?”
“No, oh my god, no! This’ll be so hot. I’ll play with myself while you do it, okay? You wanna watch me?”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I can do that. It’s just… A mouth is a mouth, right? It doesn’t matter. Okay. Sure. It’s just a stranger’s mouth. No big deal.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Cuz, uh… sexuality is ’bout the… earth mother, and stuff.” He leaned back on the picnic table and snorted. He undid the fly on the overalls he had put back on, and Avery got down on the ground in front of him.
Forrest stared straight ahead at his girlfriend, as though he would get hurt if he accidentally saw his dick in Avery’s mouth. Avery unzipped his jeans and popped his cock out. He was glad to see that Vicky was not kidding about him having a big dick — sometimes nice girls like her didn’t know what counted as “big”, but Vicky had been right on the money. His dick was at least ten inches long even before it was hard, and it was as thick around as a baseball bat.
A grumble escaped from Forrest’s lips as his dick flopped onto Avery’s face. It tasted clean and soapy, warm, inviting and meaty, like a nice stew, with a strong umami to it. A shiver of either discomfort or pleasure or maybe a mixture of both ran through Forrest’s body, and he even when he shook he kept his eyes deeply trained on his limp dick roping around over Avery’s face. He moved his forearm near his eyes like he wanted to block his view but couldn’t bring himself to do it, either because he didn’t trust Avery and wanted to watch or him or because he wanted to watch his girlfriend finger herself. His eyes were wild and frantic, and he held his breath even as his whole body stayed still, watching Avery lick the funk off Forrest’s fat shaft, his tongue encircling it and slathering spit all up and down it.
“Ah, damn, alright then, alright, alright,” Forrest said. His face was a bright red, and his neckless shoulders were beading up with sweat. He licked his lips. His shoulders were as hard as rock — he was tense, muscles firm like a statue. He stared at Vicky as though his life depended on it, like the slightest view of his dick in Avery’s mouth would be a disaster.
Forrest gurgled and choked nervously when Avery’s fingers reached up to his bare chest. His muscles didn’t throb or ripple because they were tensed and unable to relax even for a moment. His pecs were like boulders beneath Avery’s grasp.
“Are you okay, Forrest?” Vicky asked.
“Yeah.” He sounded like he was about to vomit and had to physically hold himself back. He gasped but cut it off mid-gasp by biting his lip. He hadn’t taken a full breath or possibly any breath in some time.
Despite his obvious terror, Forrest’s dick jerked up in Avery’s mouth. It felt purely physical, like Avery could tell from its fleshy texture that Forrest was not aroused by choice. Forrest’s eyes were firmly trained on Vicky’s wet pussy, but it looked like he didn’t register what he was seeing. All of his concentration was aimed at not looking at, touching or interacting with Avery in any way.
Then his cock spasmed, and Forrest moaned like it hurt. He gripped the picnic table with both hands as though trying to rip it to pieces. Or he felt an intense urge to grab onto Avery’s head and plow into his throat, slamming into him until his balls slapped against his chin, but he couldn’t do that both because he didn’t want to touch Avery’s head and because Vicky was too much of a hippie to be turned on by that.
“Oh, god…”
“Does that feel good, baby?” she asked, her voice a low, slow croon. She fingered herself slowly, just a few yards away so Forrest could watch.
“Yes.”
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Does his mouth feel good-?’
“Yes.” His voice stayed tense as a guitar string.
“Relax, baby, relax,” she said. She came closer and kissed him on the lips, making sure to stay out of Avery’s way.
That seemed to help a lot. As soon as Forrest came into contact with Vicky’s mouth and body, he sighed. His muscles relaxed like warm pudding, and Avery got a mouthful of precum. He gurgled and suckled on it loudly.
Avery grabbed one of Forrest’s meaty, callused hands. He guided it to the back of his head. Forrest didn’t notice at first, focused instead on kissing Vicky, but when he realized he touched Avery’s hair, Forrest dropped his hand away.
A sharp gasp escaped from Forrest’s lips. Avery giggled. It was always fun to tease an alpha.
Avery moved lower on Forrest’s cock, licking his veiny root. Then he got into his hairy crotch and filled his mouth with both of Forrest’s plump balls. They were sweaty and dingy and they tasted like the essence of manhood. Avery loved it. He gurgled and loudly drained every last drop of fluids from his scrotum.
“Aw, man, he’s slurpin’ my balls… He’s slurpin’ my balls…” Forrest’s deep, rumbling voice sounded weak and plaintive. He kept his eyes trained directly on Vicky, who cradled his head in her arms.
“You can tell him to stop, baby,” Vicky said. “It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll stop.”
Forrest shifted his weight on his plump asscheeks. He took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s cool and all, no problem. I’m, uh… It’s okay. No big deal. Just… I ain’t know that was a thing… you know, that people did… that guys did, y’know, that they did that… I didn’t know balls were… like… a thing… You know, whatever. I’m not into none of the… It’s okay though, I mean… free sexuality and all that, you know, like tolerance. And stuff. All that. Cool, cool, cool. This is fine,” he said. He forced a wan smile aimed at her. He gasped and bit his lip, a shiver of pleasure running up his back. His veiny shaft throbbed in Avery’s mouth. Forrest seemed even more nervous, like Vicky had caught him in something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. “It’s all that… uh… spectrum stuff, and energies… Like the energies you were talking about, the female and the… the spirits… spiritual energy. It’s… uh… yeah.”
“Does it feel good, baby?”
“Yeah.” That sounded like a lie. He blushed intensely and sputtered. “I mean, it’s okay. It’s cool. It feels good. Yep. Not as good as you, sweetie. I like you. I like girls. I like you. Girls in general, and you specifically. Girls. Women! Ladies! Females! No, women. Yep. This is fine. It’s okay. I can do it. Yep, no problem.” He forced out a very unconvincing moan — it was strictly amateur theater, and it made Avery giggle. Forrest cleared his throat. “I prefer you though. I still prefer girls. You. One girl. You, I mean. You’re special. I, uh… I’m not… I’m, uh… Just… uh… Girls… Yep. Women.” He paused. “Pussy. No! Vaginas.”
Vicky giggled too. She kissed Forrest on the cheek, her tits brushing over his muscled chest. He groaned and relaxed. She caressed his shoulders. “Relax, baby, just relax and enjoy it.
“Yep. Okay. Fun.” Forrest squirmed.
The more Vicky touched him, the more Forrest’s cock throbbed and leaked precum. It was salty and thick, coating Avery’s throat. He loved it. He had jacked off alphas while they messed around with a girl before, but he had never done it like this.
He pulled off Forrest’s cock before he came. He let him recover, while Avery licked his nipples and his pulsating pectorals. Forrest still hadn’t looked at Avery since this began, and now he stared right at Vicky’s tits. His heart raced beneath his mountainous chest, which rippled under Avery’s teasing tongue.
Avery turned around. He was glad he had shaved his ass just last night. He knew from personal experience that the best way to scare off an alpha was to have a hairy ass or chin. Forrest would have freaked out if he felt hair on his cock.
His cock plopped into Avery’s tight hole, sending a wave of pleasure up Avery’s spine. A few beads of sweat appeared on Forrest’s broad shoulders, and for just a moment, he touched Avery’s ass to guide his cock in. Then he let go and held his hands in the air as though to prove he wasn’t touching Avery.
“Oh shit! Baby! You see that? Baby, he’s got it in his ass!” Forrest was plaintive, like a boy tattling on his brother. He clapped his hands one time above his head.
“That’s so sexy, sweetie,” Vicky said. She guided one of Forrest’s fingers to her pussy. She kissed him on the neck.
Forrest closed his eyes as his manhood slid into Avery’s ass. Avery threw his head back and moaned, making sure to sound as feminine as he could muster. Forrest’s dick was rock-hard despite his discomfort.
“Oh, great Earth Mother…” Vicky continued her prayer, but she whispered it into Forrest’s ear. He must have liked hearing her voice — and she licked his earlobe a bit — because he twitched and sighed. Avery heard her say something about masculine energies, and he suspected she puffed up Forrest’s ego with her words.
A jolt of pain hit Avery, both because Forrest had a huge cock and because the positioning was kind of awkward. Avery had to guide himself up and down, and Forrest’s huge body was sprawled out, taking up all of the space on the picnic table. There was nothing for Avery to grab onto for leverage, except for Forrest’s trunk-like thighs.
“Oh, yeah, man, stick it in me,” Avery said with a flamboyant lilt to his voice. He looked back at Forrest, whose face was red and tense, eyes closed, lips pursed. Avery giggled and stroked his chest. “I’ll give you another thousand dollars to give me a reacharound.”
All was silent, except for the moist squishing sound of Avery impaling himself on Forrest’s cock. It wasn’t clear that Forrest even heard Avery’s words. Forrest was slouched; he could have almost looked like he was asleep if it weren’t for his tense muscles.
Then all at once, he sat up, abs rippling. He looked at Avery like he was crazy.
“Oh, baby, you should do that! Oh my god, two thousand dollars! You need that money,” Vicky said and squealed. “And it would be so hot. I’d cum all over you if I got to see that.”
“I, uh…” Forrest gulped nervously.
“Come on, I’ll let you lick my pussy while you do it,” Vicky said. “You don’t even have to watch.” She straddled Forrest’s chest, standing over Avery’s head with her pussy in front of her boyfriend’s face. Forrest lapped at her womanhood. She giggled. “He licks pussy so good. He’s like an expert, oh my god. You are, Forrest, you’re so good at this. You should give lessons, like on YouTube.”
It sounded like she did believe that but only really said it to puff up Forrest’s ego. It worked. He bristled and rammed his tongue into her pussy like he wanted to fuck her violently with it.
That was fine with Avery. He thought it would seem awkward at first, but Forrest was so tall that he could lick her pussy while leaving his entire broad chest and crotch open for Avery to play with. So Avery leaned back until he rested his head on Forrest’s rippling chest muscles. He guided one of Forrest’s callused hands to his cock.
Forrest’s arm was utterly stiff. His muscles were heavy, his fingers tough and callused. Avery arduously placed his hand in position. Forrest shuddered when he felt Avery’s cock, and he moaned into Vicky’s pussy, making a muffled moist sound.
“You can do it, baby,” she said softly, rubbing his scalp.
His hand awkwardly gripped Avery’s dick. He didn’t move. He didn’t jack Avery off. He just held Avery’s cock in his hand very lightly, barely coming into contact with it. He held on just enough that he could say he touched it.
Avery didn’t mind so much. On the one hand, it was the worst reacharound ever, in a strictly objective sense. It was like trying to get jacked off by an unconscious person. But Avery loved alphas, and the awkwardness was part of the appeal.
Besides that, Avery moved himself plenty as he slid up and down on Forrest’s cock. That was enough to move his dick in Forrest’s hand, and it sent a wave of orgasmic pleasure up Avery’s spine.
Forrest groaned as he finally orgasmed. Avery waited until the last possible minute before letting himself go as well, that way they both came at once. Forrest sprayed his hot wad into Avery’s ass, groaning the whole time because his hand was covered in Avery’s cum.
“Aw, fuck, baby, I’m doin’ it, I’m doin’ it, I’m bustin’…” He groaned like it hurt.
The smell of semen filled the air. Forrest shot a huge load inside Avery, great big jets of it spurting into every corner of his body. It was hot and creamy, sticky, seeping and flowing throughout him. Avery moaned so loud it made Forrest shudder.
At last they were both done. Forrest fell limp, his muscles relaxing for the first time since before Avery touched him. Forrest let out a great sigh of relief. Avery’s head swam, dizziness overwhelming him as he began to remove himself from Forrest’s cock.
“Get off me, you’re done,” Forrest said with a crude grunt. He pushed Avery to the ground. Avery crumpled up in the dirt and moaned.
“Baby, be nice,” Vicky said softly in his ear.
Forrest wrinkled his nose. He sniffled. “You best pay up, man. Don’t stiff me.”
“I won’t,” Avery said. He stretched his legs and went to his pants. He slowly filled out the payment details on PayUp. For the purpose, he wrote long-dickin’ it and giggled when Forrest saw it and frowned. He didn’t complain though.
“That was so hot, I’m so glad you did that.”
“I ain’t doin’ it no more. I had an open mind. I did it.”
“Okay, that’s-“
“I swear to God, girl, I did it. I did it. Don’t make me do it again,” he said. “I love you and all, but… Don’t make me do that again.” He blushed.
“I won’t, sweetie, I’m glad you tried it,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek. He was mollified by her tits pressing against his chest.
Avery would have loved to stay there and cuddle with Forrest’s muscled body, but it was clear Forrest’s tolerance had run out. Avery quickly dressed and headed towards the parking lot.
He was glad he had gone for a Samhain walk.

The Biker Bottoms

Avery filed a noise complaint about some bikers, so they come over to tell him off… or maybe they have something else in mind. That means Avery just might get seven minutes in heaven with a studly biker who’s got no choice but to bend over and take what Avery dishes out!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

When one of the bikers walked towards the campsite late in the afternoon, Avery felt a surge of dread. His friends pushed him to meet the biker, a burly middle-aged type with a beer belly and long, scraggly hair tinged with silver.
You see, last night, the bikers in the next campground over had been so loud that no one in Avery’s campsite could sleep. Avery and his buddies had been talking about going camping together for a long time. It was Avery’s first spring-break that wasn’t drunken and debauched — he felt so mature. They were disappointed to have the trip ruined by a bunch of biker jerks.
So Avery had gone over there and told them to shut up. They laughed at him and threw empty cans of beer, cheered on by one dark-haired biker who wore a thick leather jacket. That man had been an utter drunken jerk. Avery didn’t get mad though — he knew exactly how to proceed. He filed a complaint with the park rangers, and he told them about the littering.
Rangers didn’t care too much about noise, but they cared about littering empty cans of beer. The bikers quieted down after a visit from the rangers late in the night. Avery had been treated like a conquering hero by his fellow college students.
The bikers slept late this morning, then went off hunting or drinking or whatever they did during the day, Avery had no idea (riding bikes presumably, though he hadn’t heard their engines revving). It was now nearly five pm when the older biker approached.
He brought along with him a younger biker, one who attracted Avery’s interest. He was a big burly bear of a man in his early thirties, with thick dark hair and a scraggly beard. He had broad shoulders and a colorful dragon tattoo covering his chest, which was mostly bare, and a snake on his neck. He had a square jaw, and he chewed on his upper lip as the older biker introduced himself. Was this the man who had teased him last night? Quite possibly, but it was hard to be sure; he was in the dark last night, wearing bulky clothes.
“My name Math,” said the older biker, the Southern drawl so thick in his voice that Avery could cut it with a knife. “This here my brother-in-law, Python.”
“Math, Python, nice to meet you,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.”
Math smiled in his avuncular way, but Python just grunted an acknowledgement. He looked at Avery like he was a stack of displeasing medical test results. He straightened the flaps of the leather vest that was all he wore above the waist. His hairy, roughly tattooed chest rested, bare and broad, in the shadows of his vest.
“Be nice, Python,” Math said. When Python didn’t respond, Math slapped him in the back of the head. “Say hello. Use your words, numbskull.”
Python glared at his brother-in-law, and then at Avery. “Hello, Avery.” He spoke with an angry sneer. “You ain’t needta call the fucking rangers on us! You goddamn snitch, you come to us like a man, if you got a problem-“
“Python!”
He bit his lip and looked down at his heavy-booted feet. He shifted some dirt around with one boot. “I’m sorry you had a bout of extreme pansiness, which I see was actually a permanent condition-“
“Python!”
“It is, man, look at him! I ain’t gonna apologize to a lavender lollipop! No offense, sissy,” Python said. He refused to make eye contact with Avery, who snickered at the phrase ‘lavender lollipop’. That was a pretty good burn for a biker.
“Don’t make it seem like you’s too good for that,” Math said. He whispered in Python’s ear, and Python blanched. He looked at Avery then with wide eyes. He gripped Python’s greasy hair and pulled, just hard enough to make Python grunt and flail, though he didn’t try to fight back. Math turned to Avery. “I apologize on his behalf. He gonna play a game wit’ you now. That’ll be his way of sayin’ sorry, since he’s too proud to say it hisself. Come on wit’ us.”
Avery followed, even as his mind screamed not to. He didn’t trust these two bikers. Avery’s friends made plaintive faces as he left — they clearly agreed with Avery’s mind that he shouldn’t go. But Avery went because he was interested and because Python had an amazing body, full of hair and engine grease and scars and tattoos. He wanted to watch the rippling flesh of his back as he walked in front of Avery in pain, with his brother-in-law pulling his hair, dragging him like a caveman back to the bikers’s campground.
As they walked, Math looked behind himself and smiled at Avery. “Don’t worry about Python. He ain’t gonna hurt ya. He’s been clipped. He got two strikes against him. He can’t get in any trouble with the law. That’s why he shut down last night when them rangers came a-callin’.”
“Oh, okay.” That was not entirely reassuring to Avery.
Python’s deep voice rang out. “You ain’t needta tell the rangers-“
“Shut up, you done said that,” Math snapped at him. He threw him into an open tent on the edges of the bikers’s campground. The other bikers looked at Math with quizzical expressions. Math looked to Avery and gestured for him to enter the tent. “Python jerked me off, and he took it in the ass from me.”
Python roared and cursed from inside the tent. “Fuck you, old man! I oughta rip yer dick off-“
Math just smiled. “He did it. Everyone here did it. That’s our initiation. Some gangs do ‘blood-in, blood-out’, but that’s legally risky and there ain’t always someone available who needs killin’. We do ‘cum-in, cum-out’. Well, not ‘out’ cuz no one ever leaves.”
“Really? You guys cornhole… as like, a hazing thing?”
Math nodded. “So I gave Python a choice between saying sorry to you — sorry in a polite, respectful way — or playin’ a little game wit’ you. He chose the game,” Math said. “Seven Minutes in Heaven. You know what that is?” When Avery didn’t respond right away, out of shock, Math explained. “It means you get seven minutes in that tent with Python. He’ll do anything you want in there for seven minutes. You can cornhole the pride right outta his ass, if that’s what you want.”
“Really?!”
Python called out from inside the tent. “Fuck you, old man!”
“So whatchoo think, Avery?”
“Uh… Fuck! Okay,” Avery said.
“You’ll forgive us for makin’ noise last night?”
“Hell yeah!” Avery said. The other bikers laughed at his enthusiasm, which made Avery blush. He crawled into the tent as the other bikers crowded around cheering. It sounded like they rather disliked Python, who had been the loudest one last night — he had been the one who teased Avery and got the others involved. They had all been too drunk to care about being loud (Math must have already been asleep), but it was Python who had gotten mad, and, it seemed, stayed mad.
Avery quickly stripped off his own clothes. Python still wore his pants and leather vest. When Avery started to take the vest off him, he didn’t cooperate. His arms remained at his sides, and Avery struggled to get the vest off. Then he kissed Python on his back, which had just a slight covering of peach fuzz above an iron cross tattooed on the meat of his shoulder.
“Make ‘im moan, Avery!”
When his fingers began caressing Python’s muscles, Python twitched as though it hurt. He hung his head. Avery would have enjoyed giving him a massage, but he only had seven minutes and he wanted to use his time effectively.
So Avery stood as best he could in the tent. He wasn’t tall, so he only had to stoop a little bit. His fat pale dick was already rock-hard. He took Python’s callused hand — with the words FUCK and COPS tattooed on his knuckles — and wrapped it around Avery’s dick. Python shuddered, looked away and began stroking.
Avery flopped his dick against Python’s face, and he jerked and twitched. For a moment, Avery thought Python would attack him. But he held back, just flailing for a moment as though Avery’s dick was painful.
“You fightin’ back in there, Python? You know you can still apologize. You could be a man and own up to yer mistakes.”
But it seemed Python would rather do anything than apologize. Instead he cracked his mouth open. His square jaw trembled like he had to force his muscles to do it. His handsome face was tense, turning red and beading up with sweat.
“Oh, that won’t do. You’ll have to open wider than that,” Avery said, loud enough that the bikers outside could hear. They laughed and Avery forced Python’s jaw to separate — it wasn’t much “force”, of course, since Avery was about a third of Python’s size, and Python was already as agape as he could be. Avery just wanted to embarrass him by saying out loud that Python should open wider.
Then Avery pushed the tip of his dick into Python’s mouth. Python loudly choked and gagged, which again made the bikers outside the tent chortle. Someone banged on the side of the tent, the surprise of which triggered the burst of pleasure that coursed through Avery’s body. Python’s warm mouth lapped at his erection, and every time Python gagged, it sent a new wave of sensations up Avery’s spine.
“There it goes, I reco’nize that sound, fo’ sho’!”
“He gaggin’ on it!”
“Make him swaller ya cum, boy!”
The man’s throat was moist and tight, the hairy grizzle on the sides of his chin scratching at Avery’s smooth thighs as he humped his dick in. The positioning was very awkward given the size disparity and the short ceiling of the tent. Python had to really work at it to get his head low enough to get his mouth on Avery’s meat, while Avery had to stay stooped over.
Avery was already hard even before they started, but it didn’t take long before his dick throbbed in Python’s throat, precum leaking down his gullet. Python kept one tattooed forearm over his belly as though forcing his body not to reject the cock in his mouth.
“Move your tongue around some more,” Avery said, giggling nervously.
Python gurgled angrily but did as he was told. He slathered spit on Avery’s cock, sending waves of pleasure through Avery’s body. Avery was so aroused his knees went weak, and he clutched Python’s head for support, while Python’s muscles all tensed and rippled through him holding back violent gags.
“Sounds like you got a good start in there, Avery. Let me know when I should start timing this!” Math called out with a cackling laugh, slapping one hand on the tent to make it rattle and flap.
Python made a loud retching sound as Avery and the others all laughed. Avery kept his dick in Python’s mouth until Python forced him away. Python coughed and spat pubic hairs on the floor of the tent.
“Damn it, Math! You ain’t been timin’?”
“Nah, I ain’t know you started yet. I-“
“You s’posed to start as soon as he gets in the tent!”
“That ain’t how it works, son. You tell me when you’s ready.”
“I’m fuckin’ ready!”
“Alright, I’ll start countin’ when the second hand reaches the twelve. Go fo’ it, Avery.”
“You ain’t gotta worry about the time then, Avery, cuz Python don’t know how to tell time on one of them circle-clocks.”
The bikers all laughed as though this was an inside joke. Python blushed.
“Get on your knees,” Avery said. He called out to the bikers. “You guys got any lube?”
A bunch of them cackled and volunteered their own supply. As Python sighed and got on all fours, they ran back to their tents and bikes. By the time Avery had worked those leather pants down to Python’s ankles, baring his big hairy ass and a thick cock, someone had unzipped the door to the tent just far enough to throw a tube of lube in. That was followed by about a dozen more half-full tubes.
“That enough?” Somebody called out from outside the rent.
“That’ll get us started,” Avery said. They all laughed again, banging on the side of the tent, which once more made the walls shake like an earthquake.
Python was on all fours, which was a less convenient position than it normally would be because Python was so much bigger than Avery. His ass lined up with Avery’s bellybutton, not his crotch. His asscheeks were much wider than Avery’s entire body, but they were plump, juicy cheeks, not at all flabby or fat. Avery’s hands spread Python’s buttcheeks to each side, baring his tight hole.
Slapping Python’s ass and marveling at its jiggling, Avery made a lot of noise for the benefit of the bikers outside the tent. Python blushed a bright red.
“Lower your hips some,” Avery said after wedging his dick between those hairy, sweaty asscheeks. Python grumbled but did as he was told. He lowered his ass until he was lined up with Avery’s crotch.
They both grunted when the tip of Avery’s dick pushed into Python’s guts. Avery’s grunt was a feminine lilting exhalation, while Python let out a loud oomph that made his biker-buddies chant and clap. Python gasped and clenched down hard. Avery was unable to get any more of his dick in.
“He ain’t lettin’ me in, Math! He’s squeezing me out!” Avery called out. Python shook his head as though Avery was snitching on him to the rangers again.
“Python!”
“Shut up, Math! I’m tryin’! He ain’t got a small dick, man…” Python barked, but he did loosen his ass a bit. “Y’know, if I told Lisa what you made me do, she’d be furious. She’d tell me to tell you to fuck off-“
Someone tossed a cell phone into the tent. It landed on the ground near Python’s face.
“Call her anytime you want.”
“I ain’t gotta do this!” Python yelled. He hung his head as he grunted, hyperventilating to relax his ass. It was not entirely effective, but Avery enjoyed forcing himself into that tight hole.
“No, you ain’t gotta! You could say you sorry. You could decide to stop actin’ like a piece of shit!”
“Nuh-uh, Math, that’s genetic. His daddy was a piece of shit, making Python half-shit himself.”
“He’s proud of his shit heritage.”
“If he ever has some kids, Math, your grandbabies is gonna be one-quarter shits.”
Math murmured something disapproving — Python’s sister was Math’s wife, so Python’s daddy was Math’s father-in-law. But Avery couldn’t hear what he said.
“Don’t you motherfuckers talk about my daddy!” Python roared.
“Do somethin’ ’bout it! Oh wait, you can’t cuz there’s a dick in yer ass.”
But Python just submitted, even as he roared in rage. He lowered his face to the ground, sticking his ass in the air. His cheeks and chest were bright red, and Avery noticed that his dick was hard. Avery reached around to his crotch and stroked it. Python jerked and spasmed like it hurt, but he angled his body to give Avery easier access.
“Fight me then, Python! Come on out here and throw down!”
From the attitude of the other bikers, Avery gathered that they all thought Python was a pussy at heart. They kept challenging him to fights as though they knew he’d never do it.
His broad back was dappled with sweat, muscles rippling beneath his thick flesh. Avery caressed his skin and licked that sweat off where he could reach, which, given Python’s bent-over position, was only about halfway up his back.
As he plowed harder and harder, Avery moved his body further up Python’s frame. Soon Avery had to angle his dick downward, jabbing it in as Python grunted and groaned in pain, and pleasure.
“Ah, shit, damn…”
Then Python’s knees buckled. Avery could feel the pleasure rolling through his body, and Avery knew that Python would never admit that was why he couldn’t support himself any more — the pleasure was too intense.
Python sunk slowly to the ground. He muttered at Math, but it was too quiet for even Avery to hear, much less anyone outside of the tent. Python splayed on the ground of the tent, fingers and toes curling as Avery inexorably humped.
One of his hands remained on Python’s cock, but since Python was on his belly on the ground, it wasn’t easy to stroke him. His dick throbbed in Avery’s fingers anyway, while Avery’s other hand explored Python’s thick-bodied chest and belly. Python winced as he did, like he was ticklish and trying to hide it.
“Hey,” Python whispered as the air filled the sound of revving engines — the bikers were riding in circles around the tent now. Python blushed, and Avery leaned forward as far as he could. Python bit his lip and whispered, “Uh… Don’t tell them motherfuckers I got hard… okay? Tell ’em I couldn’t get hard. You cornholed me, whatever, just don’t tell ’em I got hard wit’ a dick in my ass. I’d never live it down.”
A part of Avery wanted to be mean and vicious, and tell them right now. But of course he couldn’t really, because of the loud engines, and he wasn’t that cruel. Python was submitting gamely, that was enough for Avery. He nodded as Python settled on his side, giving Avery enough space to keep giving him a reacharound.
The zipper flap in the front of the tent was forced lower from outside again, and a long fat cock dangled into the tent. It was thick and tattooed with a smoking bong on the shaft. Outside someone — not Math, a different voice — guffawed.
“You want a taste of that one too, Python?”
“Make him swallow it, Avery, you still got him for three minutes-“
“Now hold up there, that ain’t how this game works. He ain’t a slave.”
“Ah, Math, come on-“
“Nah. You ain’t gotta taste no jizz dick, Python. Unless’n you want to.”
Python roared. He reached up and swatted the dick away, hitting it hard enough that the biker outside roared in pain and withdrew the cock.
“Where his dick at now, Python? Inside ya?”
“Show us on the doll where his dick is at?”
“Shut up, man!” Python screamed. His voice was thready and stilted, as he gasped from both pain and pleasure.
“Answer it,” Avery said with a grin. Python clenched in embarrassment, bit his lip and roared as his friends laughed and cheered him on. Avery shuddered as Python’s ass squeezed his dick, which throbbed, rubbing in and out.
“Where’s his dick at, Python?”
“His dick is… in my ass!” Python yelled. His face was bright red now, his muscles spasming beneath Avery’s touch while Avery’s other hand brought his cock to orgasm.
“Nah, come on, be more specific. Where’s his dick at, Python? You know the anatomy of yer asshole? You got the sphincter — that’s the opening itself, the actual hole — then the anus. That’s the first inch or two. After that, it’s called yer rectum. Is he in yer rectum?”
“Has he hit the prostate yet?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Python screamed out of the tent, so angry now his face was a bright red and he spat on the ground. His voice was hoarse and clipped. His vitriol was interrupted by a climax, which was so sudden it surprised Avery.
Python’s massive body tightened all at once, clenching down on Avery’s dick again. Cum sprayed over Python’s chest and belly, so much it dripped and matted his chest hair to his skin. Python gasped, biting down on the floor of the tent to muffle the sound of his moan.
Avery smiled. He gripped the sides of Python’s belly, rolling him over onto his belly. Python grunted and groaned but didn’t resist, even as his face and chest splashed into the puddle of his own cum that collected there. He gagged, causing a rolling undulation of his muscles beneath Avery’s grip, culminating in his asshole squeezing so tight around Avery’s cock it was like he didn’t want to let Avery go.
But Avery was relentless. He was a good bottom himself, and he knew well how to make sure Python’s body accepted his drilling. Avery pounded his dick as hard as he could, making Python grunt with each thrust of his hips. His balls made a loud slapping sound where they hit Python’s skin.
“You got one minute left, Avery. That enough time? I could give you a timeout if you need it…”
“That’ll do, Math, thanks!” Avery called out. He could already feel his orgasm coming on him.
Speeding up his humping, Avery violently plundered Python’s ass. Python moaned, trying to make it sound like a moan of agony. Python lifted his feet off the ground as he submitted to Avery’s cock.
The most intense orgasm of his life shot through Avery’s body. He squealed like a piggie, which made the bikers laugh as Avery knew it would. He sprayed cum inside Python’s ass, giggling while Python harrumphed like he had no idea that was going to happen. Pleasure shot up and down Avery’s spine, and he threw his head back, digging his nails into Python’s back.
At last it was over. Avery took a deep breath and sighed. He kept his dick in Python’s ass, squirming and making sure it touched every corner of his guts. Python clenched down with his feet and hands, tearing at the floor of the tent as though trying to dig into the dirt.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven!”
Avery wiped up all the cum he could find on Python’s chest. He rubbed his hand all over Python’s face, leaving a slick of cum there. His brownish skin and scarred body gleamed with the layer of semen coating his flesh. He gagged at the scent, and Avery inserted one of his own cum-streaked fingers into Python’s mouth.
“Six, five, four!”
“Aren’t you done?”
“I still got a few seconds,” Avery giggled. He wiggled his dick in Python’s ass, sending shockwaves of pain and post-orgasmic pleasure up Python’s spine.
“Three! Two! One!”
As soon as they reached one, they unzipped the tent and ripped the flap open. Everyone jeered at the sight of Avery’s tiny, smooth body on top of Python’s hairy back. Python crawled towards the door.
Avery really hadn’t intended to remain attached to Python’s ass even after the seven minutes were up, but it all happened so fast. He held on for support as Python climbed out of the tent, stark naked, pushing past his leather-clad biker buddies.
It was only when Python was out and standing up near the tent that Avery let himself slide off Python’s back. His dick plopped out of Python’s ass, making Python sigh in relief. He still blushed though as his friends laughed at him, and someone kept handing him a battered old teddy bear, telling him to point to the spot on the doll where Avery touched him.
Python just stalked away, screaming invective at his friends, promising to tell his sister about it, though it wasn’t clear what good that would do. He headed towards the showering facility on the other side of the campsite. He didn’t seem to care that he was naked, cock swinging in the breeze; the cum drying on his face wasn’t so obvious, since his entire body glistened with sweat. Avery, meanwhile, got dressed.
The bikers didn’t follow Python. Math urged them not to. “You gotta give him a chance to regain his pride, folks. Just leave him alone for a bit.”
“What’d you think?” asked another biker — the one who had put his dick in the tent, Avery guessed based on the voice.
“That was… nice,” Avery said, blushing. “You guys can make noise anytime you want, if that’s how you say sorry.”
“You really enjoyed that, huh?”
“It was definitely seven minutes in heaven…” Avery said with a grin.

The Construction Worker

Avery likes to hang out near a construction site, so he can service whichever alpha needs a nut after work. When one older worker comes to him, Avery is eager to help him out by relieving his relentless stiffy!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Elton George virtually sprinted out of the construction site. He tried to slow himself down, to match his coworkers, because he didn’t want to look like a little boy when school just let out. Some of them strode slowly as though it didn’t matter.
Indeed, it didn’t matter. The construction site was miles from the city, there was nothing around here, no place to run to, no reason to hurry. Running didn’t get you home any quicker. They had to wait for the bus. Jambone Construction paid for the charter bus to bring them to and from the construction site every day. So Elton knew they had some twenty minutes, maybe more, to wait for the bus.
“You nasty! You so nasty!”
“She was fuckin’ fat! You should-a saw it when she got outta her car, man, the whole thing lifted up like six inches, and it wheezed like my dad gettin’ outuva chair-“
“You yungin’s don’t even know, the fattest cat is the baddest pussy,” said Cooter, who let out a crass wheezing laugh. Everyone else joined in laughing with him — or maybe at him, or a bit of both. Elton couldn’t decide. Cooter was the oldest one here. The other workers were all in their mid to late twenties, but Cooter was well past fifty years old.
And he wasn’t even in charge of the work-crew. Elton would be ashamed if he was that old and he was still just a construction worker.
“Oh, there’s that creep.”
They all got quiet as they got close to the bus stop. While this area was rural, there was a small building here — a warehouse for a medical supply company. It was not far from the highway and conveniently located between some major cities, so it made sense as a location for a warehouse. There was one employee at the warehouse.
That employee was Avery, who liked to check out Elton and the other construction workers at the end of the day. His summer vacation was almost over, and then it’d be back to college. For now though, he was enjoying the weather and appreciating the physiques of the workers who walked past his warehouse every afternoon.
Hushing up and filing to the bus stop, nobody turned to look at Avery, even though he waved.
“It’s Africa-hot today!”
“I’s sweaty as a hog,” said Paul Del Toro, who had taken his shirt off. Most of the workers did so whenever they got off-duty. It was hot this time of year, sweltering, sweat pouring down their bodies. Paul had a six-pack like a movie star, and he liked to show it off. Elton wasn’t jealous though — Paul had a six-pack and carved muscles but also a weird bulgey butterface, making him as ugly as a punch to the face. Paul glanced over to Avery. “That sissy is watchin’…”
“Sissies ain’t into yo’ stanky ass, Paul-“
“He prolly want my nigga ass,” Jaycee said, prompting an outpouring of laughs, as Jaycee lifted up his shirt as though to show off a six-pack like Paul’s. Jaycee didn’t have a six-pack. He always bragged about picking up chicks, but that was in part because he liked his females as thick as him, or moreso, and didn’t mind what their faces looked like — as he said, I prefers ’em bendin’ over anyhow, so I don’t see they faces much. Jaycee laughed along with them, and said, “Watch, he gonna be cummin’ in his drawers.” He bent over to tie his sneaker, aiming his ass right at the sissy man in front of the warehouse across the way. Jaycee shook his ass.
Everyone oohed and aahed, sneaking glances at the college boy Avery — who was maybe seventy feet away, looking in this direction, but not seemingly aware that Jaycee was bent over and waving his ass at him. Then Cooter — the older white guy with silver hair and a scruffy beard that made him look homeless — rammed one hand into Jaycee’s jeans as he said, “Watch out, he gonna stick it up ya rear, Jaycee!”
Jaycee yelped and jumped away. His deep voice bellowed. “Ah, man, Cooter, you nearly got in my asshole-“
Elton and the others all laughed so hard their sides hurt. That was just like Cooter too — he often called the others squeamish about male contact. He said the younger generations were wusses. Elton had once been pissing on a tree when Cooter came up to piss next to him and talked to him, cock hanging freely, so close Elton couldn’t help but look at it. Cooter hadn’t even realized that was weird. Elton hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away from that veiny shaft — which was huge and intimidating, hoggish, knobbled, like an animal’s organ that had been grafted onto Cooter’s body.
“Shit, Cooter, you touched his asshole-“
“Shut the fuck up-” Cooter grumbled. He smacked Paul in the back of the head. “You boys is a bunch of motherfuckin’ squeamish whippersnappers. You know we used to shower after work e’ry day, and now we can’t on account of kids like you boys get all scared ’bout queers as soon as you gotta look at a real man’s dick. A real man can see another man wit’out goin’ squeamy, ya feel me?” He pulled his dick out, lowering his pants enough to bare it and then pulling his shirt off — revealing a broad chest covered in grayish hair — so his crotch was more visible.
“Ah, shit!”
“He whipped it out!”
“That old fart took his dick out!”
“Ah, fuck! Put that old-man dick away!”
“Hey, what’s that? There’s a note.” Jaycee noticed it first. There was a piece of paper taped to the bus-stop sign. Jaycee read it. “Who wants to blow a nut? I’ll give fifty bucks to whoever comes to my warehouse and lets me service their body on the downlow. Signed, Avery. P.S. No condom and yes I swallow.”
A long awkward silence filled the air. Then Paul laughed, and the others all joined in. Jaycee clutched his belly and grabbed his crotch, aiming his cock towards the warehouse. The men there waved awkwardly.
“Yo, man, you nasty! No one wanna do that shit!” Jaycee yelled to him.
“Fuckin’ gross! He prolly takin’ in nut from all kinda hobos and shit!”
“I gots females, man, I got female beggin’ for my meat. Ain’t doin’ nothin’ sissy for fifty bucks!” Vic de Santo yelled, throwing his hands in the air.
“You fuckheads don’t know what’s up, does ya dick even work? How else you gonna pass the time that’s better than dippin’ ya dick in some bitch?” Cooter said, running his fingers through his greasy white hair. His shirt was off, wadded up and dangling from the back of his workpants. He touched his bare chest like he was nervously thinking about it. Again, everyone fell silent as it became apparent Cooter was going to do it. “Fifty bucks? And you get ya dick wet? Man, back in my day-“
“Back in yo’ day slutty dinosaurs sucked you off?”
“Man, Cooter-!”
“You so old, man, I don’t even think he meant you-“
“Yeah, he want some young meat. Nobody do like an old man.”
“He prolly assumed your dick ain’t work, Cooter. He ain’t even think you might do it.”
“He might not even be able to tell that you old, Cooter, he never seen us up close.”
Cooter turned around. “If you fuckheads ain’t bold enough, stay here and pull ya goddamn puds. I’m-a go get my dick wet.” He walked away, towards the warehouse, leaving the others to cackle him up.
“Sorry, uh, Mister Sissy Dude! He ain’t know how old he is, he still think he a young buck!”
“You can just give him some hard candy and he’ll go away!”
Cooter growled as he approached the warehouse. The young sissy, Avery, lounged against the wall. “Hmmm… Hi,” Avery said.
“Howdy. I’m Cooter,” Cooter said. His voice was gruff and rough-hewn, like he lined his throat with river rocks. He looked Avery up and down. “You a punk, huh? You wanna get it up the ass? You gonna pay?”
Avery smiled nonchalantly. “I like to be wooed.” He held out a hand, which Cooter took and kissed the back of. He ignored the whooping shouts from his coworkers. Cooter’s callused hands ran up Avery’s arm, feeling his smooth skin. Then Cooter forcibly pushed Avery face-first into the wall. Avery grunted and gripped the brick. Cooter rammed his hand down Avery’s pants and touched his asscheeks, then his hole. He didn’t finger him, he just touched the rim and let go. Avery’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh, you brute! You’re so rough!”
Cooter grunted. “I know you prolly wanted them young bucks, but you got me. They’s all a bunch of squeamish nancies. They scared you gonna turn ’em into bitches.” He put his hands on his hips. “Pardon my French, that’s the word I use.”
“I don’t think that was French,” Avery said with a giggle. He touched one of Cooter’s nipples, then played with some of the sweat-dappled fur of his chest. “You’re all sweaty and dirty.”
“What’d you think was gonna happen? I just got off work.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” Avery said. He leaned in and kissed Cooter on the chest. The taste was sour and salty, with a muskiness like the smell of clothes that had sat in the closet all winter. “It was just an observation.” Avery licked a trail from his chest up to his neck.
But then Cooter gruffly shoved his head away. “Nah. You can touch me below the neck. C’mon, let’s go,” Cooter said. He walked into the warehouse. “Be quick, I don’t wanna miss my bus. And you best pay me. If you stiff me, motherfucker, I will kick your ass so hard ya farts fall out.”
“Yes, daddy,” Avery said. He came up close behind Cooter, whose weathered skin was taut over his looping back muscles. Cooter bristled but didn’t complain as Avery licked his broad shoulders — he had, after all, said Avery could touch him below the neck all he wanted.
Inside the warehouse were long rows of shelves filled with medical supplies. Cooter grunted at the sight of them. “You got Tonaltia?”
“Hmmm…?” Avery’s mind didn’t quite process his question because he focused on the grimy dust that clung to Cooter’s body hair. Avery sunk to his knees behind Cooter, who looked over the rows of goods. Avery pulled down Cooter’s mud-caked workpants, revealing a pair of tattered, threadbare boxers. Avery pulled them down too and kissed Cooter’s asscheeks. His old-man dick flopped out.
“You got Tonaltia here? It’s a lotion, it’s medicated but it’s over-the-counter.”
“I dunno, I don’t think so,” Avery said.
Cooter was quiet for a moment. “If you want, you can pay me in Tonaltia. That’s shit’s expensive. If you got a case of it here-“
“Hmmm…” Avery finally realized what he was saying, and the word Tonaltia hit his brain. “Oh, yeah, we got that. I can say a box got ruined due to mice or something, they’ll send us a replacement box.” He quickly went and found one. It had twenty bottles of Tonaltia in it — worth close to two hundred bucks at retail.
Cooter stood there waiting with his pants and boxers around his ankles. His prick dangled freely. He grabbed the box and seemed satisfied, like he would have gladly walked out with his pants still down. But he stood still, box in hand.
“Alright then, sissy, get to whatevuh it is you wanna do,” Cooter said. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at his feet, where Avery kneeled once more. Avery didn’t use his hands, he bent his head over and chased Cooter’s cock with his mouth.
Cooter harrumphed and used his hands instead — he grabbed Avery’s head and fed his dick down. “Quit playin’ wit’ it, man, young fellers is always playin’ and shit. Take it serious.” He started fucking Avery’s throat immediately, even though his dick was soft and rubbery.
Avery didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to deep-throat Cooter’s dick while it was still limp, and he slathered it with spit. He suckled loudly, moistly generating as much saliva as he could, until it ran down his chin and onto the warehouse floor.
He gripped Cooter’s asscheeks for support, using both hands there so he could slurp hands-free — he liked doing that because it clearly annoyed Cooter. Cooter didn’t want to touch Avery’s head since he wasn’t wearing that Marilyn Monroe wig — Cooter hadn’t let a man jerk him off without that wig in a very long time; Cooter hadn’t been sober for it for an even long time. Soon he found his dick was rock-hard, balls swinging against Avery’s chin. He grunted. Did this feel better than it did when he was drunk?
At least, he thought, he had months worth of that damn lotion his insurance wouldn’t cover. That was worth way more than the fifty bucks.
“Ah, damn…” A jolt of pleasure shot up his spine. Cooter bit his lip and moaned. He gripped Avery’s head and found that now, he wasn’t so uncomfortable with the clearly-male hair underneath his fingers. It no longer reminded him so much that he wasn’t with a female, and he could picture a pretty woman in his mind — the warehouse was dimly lit, after all, so he could barely see Avery.
Moist choking sounds emanated up from Avery’s lips, and Cooter grew increasingly impassioned. Cooter didn’t sound friendly when he was aroused though, and he kept grunting, clucking his tongue against his teeth and grimacing when he felt resistance from Avery’s throat.
“C’mon, man, open that throat up,” Cooter murmured. “You fightin’ back, don’t fight me, boy!” He let go, and Avery pulled off to gasp for air.
“Hmmm… You can keep throating me down, even if I gag, that’s fine-“
“I know, punk,” Cooter said with an angry snort. He rammed his dick back in even before Avery could gather his breath. As a burst of pleasure ran up his spine, Cooter let out a long chest-rattling sigh.
“Eww! Eww! Eww! “
“Did you see it?”
“I could hear it! It was so nasty! It was the nastiest sound ever!”
“He’s really jerkin’ off that old man!”
Those other younger construction workers must have poked their head in. Avery didn’t see them, but he made as many loud choking sounds as he could when he thought he heard the door creak open again. They all snickered like children and dashed off.
Cooter shouted back. “Man, you youngins best shut ya goddamn mouths! I may be old but I can still whip ya silly bitch-asses!” When he yelled, his hoary old crotch rammed into Avery’s face, his nose nuzzling in his wiry pubic hair.
Avery choked once more, and a big wad of fluids plopped on the ground. That was a loud enough sound that it made the young men outside holler like their favorite team had just scored a goal.
“Shit, Cooter, you are fuckin’ disgustin’!”
“Damn! Didya hear that!”
“Shit, when I fuck girls in the ass, it make more of a thwomp-thwomp sound-“
“But you ain’t got droopy old-man balls like Cooter, his sac goes all the way to his knees and shit-“
“Gray pubic hair prolly smells like a fuckin’ library.”
“Hey, Gramps, is in you in his ass or his mouth?”
“That ain’t no choke, I made girls choke on my meat before, they don’t sound like that-“
“That’s cuz girls don’t like chokin’. They quit when they choke.”
Cooter let out another growl. His dick throbbed, salty precum running down the shaft. He swiped it over Avery’s face, leaving a layer of gleaming fluids there, which seemed to virtually glow in the dim light of the warehouse.
“Shit, I bet his cum smells like Werther’s Originals-“
“Hey!” Cooter shouted. He walked away, dick dragging out of Avery’s mouth. He went right to the doorway, shuffling because his pants and boxers were around his ankles. The younger workers scattered away from the door when they saw him getting close, cock jutting from his silver-tinged pubic hair.
“Gah! Old man dick!”
“Oh shit! He gonna ram you, Jaycee!”
“You motherfuckin’ little shits best get the fuck away from me! We fuckin’ in here, alright? I don’t come to ya mama’s place and heckle you when you fuckin’ her stank asshole, Paulie, don’t you dare come after me!” Avery bristled because he felt Avery come up behind him, licking his back and his ass. Avery’s hands roamed around to Cooter’s front and jacked his dick off right there in the threshold. The other workers ran around in the parking lot making nervous jokes and pretending they weren’t sneaking glances.
“Hmmm… Will you ram me now, daddy? I need your cock inside me. Please? Stick it in me and don’t use a condom, just fill me up with your cum-“
“Quit beggin’, of course I’ll ram you. I just gotta make a point. Stand here and grease yaself up,” Cooter said. He tried to grab Vic de Santo when he ran near the door — attempting to throw cold water on Cooter’s head, though Vic’s water bottle only had a little water left in it, and it wasn’t very cold, so Cooter didn’t notice — to punch him, but Vic escaped from his grasp.
“Shit, Vic!
“Old man balls! Old man balls! That’s what we callin’ Cooter now: Old-Man Balls! Lookit that, man, he got dangly balls-“
Cooter cursed under his breath and turned around. Avery had bent over right there, using the door itself for support. Cooter grimaced and got behind him. With the door swung all the way open, Avery’s head was mostly concealed by the wall, but his ass was plainly visible from outside.
It was so smooth and greasy, lubed up now — the warehouse carried lube, so Avery had opened a bottle — it got Cooter’s attention. He was annoyed by the young men’s caterwauling, but the sight of Avery’s ass got his dick throbbing again. It looked so feminine. His hips were hourglass-shaped, his cheeks plump and perky, his hole tight, begging him to plow into it. He looked more feminine from behind than some of the females Cooter had been fucking lately.
His dick wedged in, and Cooter sucked in his breath. The guys backed even farther away, nearly all the way to the bus stop, pushing each other towards the warehouse.
A throaty sound escaped from Cooter’s throat. He couldn’t believe how good it felt when his dick slipped in. The door swung on its hinges because Avery had to use it for support. He pressed his face against the cold steel door and held onto the knob with both hands.
“Oh shit…” Avery moaned. His prostate sent waves of pleasure through his body. The fact that Cooter was more focused on looking tough for the guys outside just made it hotter — Avery was being used like a toy, his face hidden by the door itself, and only his ass mattered. He couldn’t open it wide enough, but that didn’t slow Cooter down any.
He gripped Avery’s smooth ass and plowed in over and over, bending his wrinkled silver muscles this way and that so the others would notice. He even flexed his fleshy biceps and pounded on his chest like Tarzan, prompting a wave of hoots and laughter from the bus stop.
“Oh god, deeper! I love your old cock inside me!” Avery screamed loud enough for the others to hear.
Cooter licked his lips. His face was red, veins throbbing against the taut skin of his neck, his weathered cheeks glistening with sweat, silver hair matted to his chest with the spit from Avery’s worship.
“Ow, damn, son, don’t move, don’t move, don’t move-” He gripped Avery’s shoulder and held on as an orgasm exploded within him. “I said don’t move, boy! Stay still-” He groaned, voice wavering as he came.
“Oh shit, Old-Man Balls is cummin'”
“Go lick his nuts, Jaycee! You said you wanted to-“
“You prolly got a big ol’ hardon-“
Great wads of cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, more than he thought possible in such an old man. Cooter’s wiry pubic hair scratched Avery’s smooth cheeks. Fluids sloshed around inside him, the heat seeping into Avery’s flesh. Avery cried out, his own orgasm overwhelming him in waves.
Avery shot a cumwad onto the floor of the warehouse, sight of which made the other workers grumble nervously — it was one thing to sneak glances at them fucking, it was another thing to watch Avery shoot his cum on the ground, while Cooter’s gray muscles flexed and glistened.
“Ah…” Cooter didn’t intend to drop Avery to the ground. But the pleasure wracking his body was so intense he couldn’t help but grab Avery by the hair and pull his head up. His intent was just to more tightly control the position of Avery’s ass, but when Avery couldn’t hold onto the door anymore, they both thudded painfully to the ground.
“Shit! Did he just bodyslam that man?”
“Oh god, he’s really cornholin’ him!”
They all rushed the warehouse because, for a moment, it looked like Cooter had rammed Avery’s face onto the cold cement floor. But it hadn’t been as violent as it looked, Avery was fine, a little pain in his ass and his knees, but it was overshadowed by the waves of pleasure wafting through him.
Cooter writhed atop him, toes curling, cock grinding within every corner of Avery’s asshole. His cum was a big frothy mess now and still Cooter plowed, until it had all slipped out into a nasty puddle on the ground.
“Goddamn…” Avery said with a moan, his voice weak and tinny. The guys heard the pleasured tone to his words and stopped short in the parking lot. They nervously looked away.
There was some nervous snickering, but nobody laughed out loud now as they watched Cooter’s wrinkled ass — which was ropy, well-muscled and taut, covered in fine grayish hairs, writhe, dimple, flex, his limpening dick roaming around in the cummy soup that filled Avery’s hole.
“Shit, boys, watch this…” Cooter lifted his upper body off Avery’s soft frame. He grimaced, and the guys watched with baited breath, wide eyes and nervous, voiceless chuckling as Cooter’s long dick slowly slipped out of Avery’s asshole. “Lookit that, he gapes like a porn star-“
“Nobody wanna see that, old man,” Jaycee said quietly, even though everyone stared as it happened.
“Shit…” Cooter moaned. His cock flopped out, and Avery sighed. Avery twitched. He scampered away and jumped to his feet. He blushed at the sight of the strangers all staring at his naked, cum-soaked body.
“Goddamn, Cooter.”
“You really rammed him good.”
Cooter aimed his crotch so his heavy cock and low-hanging balls were plainly visible. “I can break open any asshole so good it falls off. I know how to get my dick wet, on account of I ain’t no squeamish pansy like you little shit-sandwiches.”
Avery hurried into the warehouse while they all made fun of Cooter. Avery got the box of lotion that Cooter had left on a shelf. He brought it back to him, along with his clothes and some wetnaps he used to wipe Cooter’s dick clean.
Cooter grunted and watched Avery clean his dick off. ” Sissies is nice, they clean you up. Girls make you do that yaself-“
Paul snorted. “Yeah, that’s a good reason to do it, Old-Man Balls.”
“Fuck you, young buck-!”
Another argument was about to develop when the rumbling engine of the bus could be heard. It was on its way.
“Ah, shit-!”
“Don’t let it leave, man!”
“Who’s driving today? Wave ya hands so he sees us!”
They all ran to the bus stop, all except Cooter, who stood there with his shirt in hand, ready to put it back on. He paused for a moment, made sure no one was looking at him, then wrapped Avery in his arms, kissed him on the lips, rammed his tongue down his throat and pulled away, all in about two seconds.
“There. I-” He paused to gag because Avery’s mouth tasted like precum. “I kissed ya. You like that, huh? You lemme ram you e’ry day and I’ll kiss you one time. And take ya money and lotion, but I kiss you e’ry day. That make you feel good? I kiss you one time if you lemme ram like that e’ry day, all that gaggin’ and shit, and lettin’ me pound into you. That’s good.” He pointed at Avery as though he was accusing him of something. “Don’t tell no one ’bout the kissin’, and from now on we gotta do that first so you don’t taste like dick when I kiss ya.”

The Professor

Avery accidentally catches his hunky professor Studman in the act of taking advantage of a woman, and Avery is eager to show discretion… in exchange for a chance to swing on Professor Studman’s big throbbing meat!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was trying to nab one of the college’s janitors. But he was handsome enough, and charming enough, to get loads of females hanging off his every word, even as a janitor.
That was disappointing. If Avery could ever spend some time alone with him without any women around, he was sure he’d get to swing on his meat. The janitor really did have a remarkable physique.
Avery forgot all about him, however, when he showed up to the first day of his creative writing course. He’d had the impression the teacher was a woman. He saw the name on the course schedule, of course: Studman. But he thought that was too on-the-nose to be a man’s name.
But as it turned out, Professor Studman was a handsome hipster with brilliant eyes and a foppish smile. Avery was one of the few min in his class because women thronged to him. They liked his dimples and his hair, and his body — tall and athletic but not muscular. He was also the coach for the girls’s field hockey team. He had a gorgeous head of straight black hair that went nearly to his shoulder, and he had a perpetual five o’clock shadow and deep foreboding eyes.
“You know, when I was navigating the Zambezi with my guide Labotako-” He pronounced that name as though he fluently spoke whatever language it came from, “I learned that, in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, they don’t take attendance in schools. Children have to pay for their education, and therefore they always attend. Labotako said their kids never play hooky. Labotako slapped his son every time he complained about going to school. So I’m not going to take attendance in this class either.”
The girls all oohed and aahed, gazing into his eyes. Avery thought this was silly. Professor Studman was hnadsome, but he wasn’t worth this reaction. These classmates would surely not have been impressed if a tubby slob said he beat his daughter when she skipped school, but they swooned over Professor Studman’s five o’clock shadow and abusive river-guide.
But Avery decided to just get into it. He was here to learn creative writing — his last year at GHU he had been told he was short one English credit — and, it turned out, daydream about making out with Professor Studman. This wouldn’t be the first time a handsome man blinded a bunch of women to his obvious douchebaggery. Avery thought of himself as immune, simply because he didn’t care about Studman being douchey. Women needed to justify finding a man attractive and well-formed. Avery simply accepted that this douchebag was a joy to look at.
Professor Studman wore a plain white tee shirt that showed off his forearms, which were well-muscled and taut, with a plain tribal tattoo sneaking down from his bicep. There was a blazer on the chair — he had worn a jacket over a tee shirt to class today, Avery thought, what a pretentious asshat.
Yet oh god he was handsome… Avery could feel the waves of desire from the women all around him. No wonder this class was so popular. The other two men in the class, sitting a few rows away from Avery, looked about ready to strangle Professor Studman.
“As the great Ursula Leguin said, art is an attempt to speak that which can not be said in mere words. In this class, we will learn the words that can express the inexpressible, the ineffable wonderness of our lives. Creative writing is a way to construct a window into reality itself,” he said. He smiled, showing off deep dimples. Some of the girls audibly swooned. “I met Ursula Leguin in a bar in Melbourne. She was there with some bikers — or bikies as they say in Australia. We did shots of whiskey until she took me to an Aboriginal farm where I learned to play the didgeridoo. Have you ever heard the didgeridoo?”
He went on, talking about how wonderful Aboriginal culture was. Nobody, as far as Avery could tell, paid much attention. The girls just smiled and nodded, and Avery had to admit he did the same — Professor Studman was just so damn charming.
The assignment after the first class was to write a description of your home without using any sight words — no color, no shape, no patterns, just sounds, textures and smells. Avery had to admit it was a good exercise for a creative writing class.
How many of the women in this class would have an affair with Professor Studman before the semester was out? Avery would have gambled on at least twelve. He was that kind of professor.
They were first assigned to write an actual story three weeks into class. Avery did a lot of writing anyway, so he thought it’d be easy. He ended up spending most of his free time for an entire week getting it done. It was a little tale about a parking lot that had a large volume of LSD spilled on it during a concert, resulting in it gaining sentience. There were even some anti-Trump messages embedded within, which Avery knew was sure to get him attention from Professor Studman.
But he ignored the story. Studman just wrote A+ on the paper and added a note on the end that said creative concept, well done! Avery was a little disappointed. He was hoping for more feedback than that.
Was there any market for short stories? The two girls Avery shared it with thought it was excellent as well. He wondered if it was sell-able. Did Playboy still publish literary shorts?
He came to Professor Studman’s office one Monday morning to see if he had any advice. His hand hovered over the door before knocking because he was unsure if he would be in the office. Avery had lost the syllabus with his office hours on it, and that info wasn’t available on the class’s official webpage because Professor Studman said that he had refused to work on a webpage ever since doing shrooms with Prince Kuni Asaakira of Japan, when they both decided that the Internet was a “soul trap that would sap its users of their intellect, their attention and their wellbeing”.
There was a loud cracking slap-sound emanating from the office and then a grunt of pain.
“You asshole! She’s such an ugly bitch anyway! How could you be with her? You know she likes jocks!?!”
The door ripped open, nearly knocking Avery over. A woman walked out — she was Jess Weatherspoon, one of Avery’s classmates, a beautiful blonde with narrow hips, frazzled hair and messed-up makeup. She glanced at Avery but didn’t register his presence. She just stalked out towards the main door.
“Hi, uh… Professor Studman?” Avery said as he came in the doorway.
“Oh come on in, Avery,” he said.
Avery was blinded by desire. Professor Studman was changing his tee shirt, another one of those plain white shirts he wore all the time. His silver-dappled chest hair entranced Avery, who couldn’t stop picturing himself sucking on the scruff of Professor Studman’s neck.
“You should know that she was upset because I refused to give her an extension on our latest assignment,” Professor Studman said. He carefully folded the tee shirt he had taken off. Avery noticed that there was lipstick on it — the same color smeared over Jess’s lips when she walked out — and that it was a Gucci shirt. How much had Professor Studman paid for a completely white tee shirt? That was now ruined?
“Oh? She looked more upset than that.”
“She’s very sensitive. Jess doesn’t understand a lot of things. She’s young and foolish,” he said. Then he was quick to add, “but she’s very smart. She will grow wise with time.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. “So you haven’t been… messing around with her?”
Professor Studman frowned. “That’s a rather inappropriate question. I don’t wish to discuss my private arrangements.”
“I see.”
A long paused grew between them. Studman looked Avery in the eye and raised his eyebrows. Avery didn’t say anything. Studman cleared his throat, and then he shattered the silence. “I was hoping I could rely on your discretion.” He stood but only for a second before he painfully winced and sat down again. Avery stared at his crotch for the brief moment it was visible, and Avery was sure he had a huge hard-on in his khakis.
Obviously, Jess had blue-balled him.
“Well, I’m very discrete by nature,” Avery said.
“Yes… You know, among the Maori of New Zealand, there are these people called whackawahine, and I-“
“I’m not that interested in the whackawahine,” Avery said. “I’m sure they’re marvelous… but I’m much more interested in you.”
“Ah, I, uh…”
“Perhaps you would be willing to treat me like a nubile young coed,” Avery said. He stood up and came closer to the desk. He licked his lips.
“I… I find the word coed, when used as a noun to refer to a female, offensive,” he said. He gulped. “It is patronizing and dismissive of female accomplishments, and it implies that women’s ability to keep up with male students is a-“
“You don’t need to impress me, Professor Studman. I already think you’re handsome,” Avery said.
“Oh…” He shrugged and grunted. “I see. I…” He blushed and bit his lip.
Professor Studman ran his fingers through his salt-peppered black hair. He glanced towards the door to his office. Avery locked it for him.
“I would be glad to, uh, let you — for your discretion — I, uh…” he said. He straightened his tie.
“So you’d be willing to let me… do things, in exchange for that discretion?”
Studman closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, then. I mean… I don’t want to do… y’know… There are certain things I won’t do-“
“Don’t worry, I’m a bottom. I won’t try to make you take it in the ass or anything like that-“
Professor Studman sighed again, this time louder, relieved. He rolled his eyes. “Ah, okay, good. You don’t need to be crass. It’s not about gender, it’s not about genitals, it’s about feelings, and reconnecting with the primal part of your soul-“
“Professor Studman?”
“Yes?”
“Shut up and stand so I can swallow your dick,” Avery said. “Your pretentious preening is not hot. You don’t need to impress me.”
He frowned and stood. “I am not pretentious. I simply value my experiences and the knowledge I have gained as a lifetime explorer. That’s what I call it, by the way, have I said that?”
He had said it numerous times in class. He saw himself as a “lifetime explorer”, like that was what he identified as; instead of “American college professor” or “writer and traveler”, he introduced himself as a “lifetime explorer”. He had spent a long time explaining why and what that meant, but Avery had been gazing into his eyes at the time and imagining cuddling with him in a ski lodge. Now he explained it again, and this time Avery could more easily ignore him because he got to slide to his knees in front of Professor Studman’s body.
He grabbed his dick through those pristine khakis — which were also name-brand, it seemed, though Avery didn’t recognize the Italian brand on the label when he pulled them down to Professor Studman’s ankles. He smelled strongly of cologne, something fancy with an odd melange of scents.
“Hmmm… That cologne is hot,” Avery said. He pulled down his silk print underwear too, revealing a hefty tan cock and trimmed pubic hair. That made Avery giggle. He was both excited by how big it was and a little annoyed — just because it would have been karmic justice for Professor Studman to have a tiny dick. No wonder he was so confident, Avery thought.
“It’s only available in Khabarovsk, in Russia,” Professor Studman said. “I went there last spring to see the romashka bloom — that’s chamomile, by the way. They use the blossoms to make this cologne. It’s a reputed aphrodisiac blessed by a Siberian shaman.”
“Hmm-hmm…” Avery kissed the tip of his dick, and Professor Studman grunted. Avery snuck his tongue out, sliding it left and right over the tip of his thick cock. He didn’t lick it just yet, he was still teasing Professor Studman, whose face turned ruddy.
“If you’ve never seen the romashka blooming in Russia, I suggest you go. It’s exhilarating-” His voice broke as his dick twitched, and he blushed. He began speaking more quickly, almost frantically fast. “They have vast meadows teeming with romashka, and the entire field is the purest white dotted with the yellow suns of their stamens. They have long said such fields are the tears of God looking down upon the evil man does to man.” His dick throbbed mightily, growing hard as Avery teased it with his tongue. Professor Studman’s eyes opened wide. “Uh… It makes me feel… I mean, seeing those daisies — they’re a member of the daisy family — it reminds me… the feelings do remind me, I mean… of you… I mean the feelings now remind me then of… those fields and, uh-” He groaned loudly and stopped talking.
“You don’t need to sweet-talk me,” Avery said. “I like dick. I don’t need ornate speeches about Russian flowers to jerk you off.”
“No, I, uh… I…”
“You can just say jerk me off, Avery.”
“No.”
Avery smiled. “Okay, well, you can keep seducing the air with your sweet nothings, if you like. I’m just going to swallow your dick some more.”
“I am, uh… I once studied love-making with the same Tantric teacher who taught Sting. I had the chance to meet Sting once but I turned it down. I don’t think celebrities are that interesting. I don’t click on celebrity news on Facebook.” He paused, then blurted out, “I don’t use Facebook! I don’t, uh-” He bit his lip as a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine.
Avery giggled. Professor Studman had been pretty slow to get fully hard even though he had been hard just moments ago, with Jess. Avery wasn’t worried he’d fail to get an erection, he was just slow and nervous. Professor Studman was probably unused to performing without a woman worshiping every word that came out of his lips.
For the first time, Avery wondered if all this stuff was nonsense. When did he find the time and the funds to travel so much? Who went to Russia to look at flowers? He had assumed Studman was exaggerating some, but seeing him with his guard down made Avery wonder if it was all made-up.
It couldn’t all be fictional. He did come across as well-traveled. But Avery had trouble believing all this. Still, it didn’t much matter to him — lots of attractive guys were bullshitters. It was cute, Avery thought. Usually it had more to do with bullshitting about athletic accomplishments and bedding beautiful women, but this wasn’t so far off.
In any case, once Studman was hard, Avery was ready to get stuck by that beautiful slab of veiny manhood. He thwacked himself across the face with Professor Studman’s cock, giggling at the sight of his nervous face grunting each time.
“Have you ever been with a man before?”
“Uh… in India, I was… no.” Studman said. “No, I never have.” He sucked on his lip. Avery suspected he was about to tell a lie that would sound impressive, but he couldn’t focus enough to come up with one, so he had told the truth.
Avery bent over and grabbed the surface of Studman’s desk. He lowered his head and jutted his ass up to meet Professor Studman’s cock. He rammed into his crotch first, just rubbing his asscrack of his moistened dickshaft as it throbbed and leaked precum onto his smooth flesh.
“Hmmm, pound me… Live life to the fullest, Professor Studman! This is the chance to explore your lifetime!” Avery giggled. “Go’n, stick it in.”
He had to crane his head to see Professor Studman’s tense face. It was obvious he had hoped Avery would actually guide his dick in, so he wouldn’t have to do it. He closed his eyes, gripped his cock and then let go. He paused.
“Do you not wanna do it?” Avery asked. “Cuz if you’re too inhibited and inexperienced, I can understand that.”
“No! I… I don’t have hangups,” Professor Studman said. “Of course. You know the Malays say that-“
“Unless there’s a handsome Malay with a hardon here, ready to stick it in me, I don’t much care, Professor Studman,” Avery said.
He gritted his teeth and did so, just to prove that he could. He sighed with relief when his dick slid in, then he tensed up all over again. A shudder of pleasure ran through him.
“Ah, uh… Yes, ah…”
It was just the tip. Avery had to reach behind himself to guide Studman’s cock the rest of the way in, grimacing as he focused on relaxing his ass. There was a little pain, but Avery had come to expect that — Studman’s dick was big enough to hurt, but also big enough to give him the prostate orgasm of a lifetime.
“You can pound me hard, Professor Studman,” Avery said through gasps of pleasure. “You don’t have to be gentle with me, I’m no college freshman hiding from my daddy…”
“I don’t mess with underage girls. I check their ID,” he said.
“Like a true gentleman would.” Avery giggled. “Has the queen given you a knighthood yet?”
For the first time since Avery had met him, Professor Studman chuckled like he genuinely thought that was funny. “Only British subjects are eligible for a knighthood,” he said. He gripped Avery’s asscheeks, grimacing and sucking on his teeth as he did. His cock slid in the rest of the way, and he held his breath, watching it throb in Avery’s ass.
At last, Studman began pounding in earnest. Avery could just grip the desk and enjoy the show. His prostate rang out with every thrust of Studman’s cock into him, over and over, its thick shaft stimulating every inch of Avery’s insides.
He was really very good once he got into it. Avery could tell that he had relaxed, that he could forget for at least a few seconds that he wasn’t with a beautiful woman. Avery moaned in as feminine a voice as he could, while jolts of pleasure shot up his spine.
“Hey… Professor Studman? Did you read my story?” Avery asked. He had completely forgotten that that was why he came here to begin with.
Studman stopped moving. “I skimmed it. It was good, I could evaluate it without scrutinizing every word-“
“Because I’m not a hot chick, you saw no reason to really read it?”
He didn’t answer. He just resumed gyrating. He chuckled dryly. He placed one hand on Avery’s shoulders and lightly caressed the back of his neck. He leaned over and sucked on Avery’s left earlobe.
That made Avery shudder and shiver. It tickled a little, and it ratcheted up the orgasmic pleasure gathering deep within his body. Avery moaned. “Oh god… Girls love it when you do that, right?”
“Don’t even try to pretend you don’t love it too,” he said.
“I do… I still want to know — do you think I could sell it? The story I mean.”
Professor Studman laughed. “Yeah, if you go back to the fifties when people paid for short stories,” he said. “Assuming your audience is limited to present-day people: No.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess that’s kinda what I thought-” Avery’s voice broke as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. He lifted one leg and gasped.
The movement knocked a few things off Professor Studman’s desk, but he didn’t complain. He grunted too, his cultured demeanor vanishing as he neared his orgasm. He was normally so controlled that his frenzied pounding and the sweat dappling his shoulders seemed more exciting than they should be, like watching a man turn into a werewolf. Avery smiled as his most potent orgasm in recent memory filled his mind with intense pleasure.
He had to admit Studman was good. That was another thing Avery was kind of surprised by — he rather thought Studman would remain clumsy and reserved even with a raging hardon. But with Avery at least, when he finally neared his climax, Professor Studman plowed into him with wild abandon.
At last he was done. “Aw… yeah, shit, yeah…” His pretension was gone as his whole body quaked. Cum flew into Avery’s ass and coated his insides.
He shot great creamy gobs of it, and it filled Avery up more and more with each passing second. His balls slapped against Avery’s ass as he kept gyrating too. Much of his cum spilled out and into the crack of Avery’s ass.
“Ah… goddamn,” Avery said. He threw his head back. His own orgasm felt so good it kind of hurt.
Then, finally, it was over, and Avery lowered his head to the surface of the desk. He stared, eyes open but unfocused, at the form in front of his face while Professor Studman drained the last few drops of his cum into him.
Eventually he was done, and Studman sighed.
He felt tremendous relief and a second rush of bliss in his veins when his dick finally plopped out of Avery’s ass. Avery sighed too, falling limp onto the desk.
That was when Avery noticed the form he had laid his head on. It was a passport application form.
It took Avery a few moments to process that and what it meant. A passport was valid for ten years. If he needed to apply — not renew, for that was a different form — then that meant he hadn’t left the country (at least not legally) in a decade or more. He hadn’t been to Khabarovsk (wherever that was) last spring because he hadn’t had a passport.
“What’s this?” Avery held the form up. It was blank, so Avery couldn’t technically be sure it was for Professor Studman — perhaps he was filling out an application for his mother, for example — but his reaction made it clear that he didn’t want anyone to see it.
He snatched the form out of Avery’s hand, dick still dangling moistly between his legs. His khakis were still around his ankles too, so when he moved, he stumbled and fell over the desk.
Avery looked down at him and scoffed. He goosed Studman’s plump asscheeks. “You don’t have a passport.”
“No, I… It’s just a paperwork error. The government, y’know… Trump’s fault, most likely,” he said.
“Hmm-hmm, yeah, that seems likely,” Avery said. He wiped his own ass off, casually, using tissues from the box on Studman’s desk. Avery took a few steps away, still holding the box, while Professor Studman stood up. With his khakis still around his ankles, Studman couldn’t easily reach Avery or the box of tissues, and it was obvious he wouldn’t pull his pants up until he cleaned his dick off — those pants and the underwear were both name-brand, after all, he wouldn’t want to goop them up with bodily fluids. He looked ridiculous stumbling around his office with his pants and drawers around his ankles.
“Gimme those tissues,” he said, blushing. It looked like he was not used to the experience of blushing. He dabbed sweat off his brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. “It… I trust I can expect your discretion? Regarding the passport as well as the… everything else… Since, y’know…”
“I have lots of discretion. The part of my spleen that secretes discretion is also the part that loves getting slammed by you,” Avery said. “So why don’t I come back next week?”
“Fine. Yeah. Sure. I’m fine with… y’know…” He gestured to Avery’s ass and gulped. “That’s fine. No need for blackmail. Just, uh… come over to my office. We’ll talk… plot structure.”
“Good. Make time for me,” Avery said before handing the tissues over and walking out the door.

On the Downlow

As the city burns in riots over police violence, recently released ex-cons Thumper and his prison wife Angel find themselves sharing the night with a handsome young thug named Rico… Can Rico make it through the night with his dignity intact?

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Read the whole thing here!

There were three people at the apartment that night as the sultry heat led to tempers flaring in the city streets outside. Timmy Angel was one, and another was Thumper White. The two of them were released from prison at the same time a few weeks ago and were living together in a small apartment.
As he looked out the window, where an occasional rioter fled cops heading towards Sycamore or a fracas of rowdy protestors spilled down the ave, Angel shook his ass and made a cock-swallowing face for Thumper, who growled and pursed his full lips. He licked his teeth and sucked on his tongue.
“Yo, whiteboi, you pretty on the eyes,” he said. “You got ass like a homeboy. I like that.” His eyes roved up and down Angel’s body, taking him in. He took a deep breath. “I already invited over this homeboy named Rico. I guess we gonna have a three-way. Rico’ll do it. That okay with you?”
“Hell yeah!” Angel said, and Thumper laughed — or rather, he lowered his eyes to slits and breathed slightly, which was as close to laughter as he could get without losing his hardcore-menacing-thug look.
“Good. I be in charge, whiteboi,” he said. “I set the rules-” He stopped because a torrent of sirens filled the streets with shrieks and then faded to a distant whine..
Thumper and Angel went to the window to look outside. There was smoke rising into the air in the distance, it looked like the library had burned down, or some building close to it. There was shouting, screaming, the rattatat of gunfire echoing in the night-time sky.
“You think this shit gonna lead to change?” Thumper asked. Angel wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him like a girlfriend. Thumper patted him gently, and Angel nuzzled his muscles. He smelled like cocoa butter.
“Uh… Well, that’s hard to predict,” Angel said. He shrugged. “Things usually don’t change, but somehow… things are always different.”
Someone knocked on the door then, conveniently rescuing Angel from trying to come up with a better answer.
The man at the door was Rico. He was much younger than Thumper, at barely twenty-one years old, and he was a handsome, slimly-muscled thug with dimples and an ass so thick it looked like a mismatched body part, like he had stolen it from a bigger, taller man. He wore baggy jeans that were slung low enough for Angel to get a good look at his shorts-clad asscheeks. He sauntered in, swagger thick as pudding, and he sucked on his teeth. He bristled when introduced to Angel, like he done reach his limit for meeting white men. He lowered his eyes and glowered. Outside, there was the sound of twisting metal and a loud crash — a car accident, somewhere far away.
“Yo, homeboy,” Rico said to Thumper once he was in the apartment. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I… I’ll do whatevuh you want, but let’s just do it.”
“Whatchoo mean?” Thumper narrowed his eyes to slits.
“I mean… I know…” he laughed to cover up his nervousness. “I know, uh… them other homeboys told me why you wanted me to come over here. I-“
“Them other homeboys shouldn’t be talkin’ ’bout shit they don’t understand. I told you to come here tonight cuz you workin’ fo’ me now that I’m outta the joint. We gotta get to know each other,” Thumper said. “You gonna be slingin’ my rock, so I gotta know what you is like.” He clasped Rico on the bicep and squeezed. It started off like an affectionate pat, but Thumper left his hand there, massaging Rico’s arm.
“Yeah, uh… I already know what you like,” Rico said with a sigh. “You into that prison shit.” He shrugged. “Whatevuh. I’m hardcore, I’ll do hardcore shit.”
A long awkward silence ensued. Angel’s heart skipped a beat. There was gunfire outside, but Thumper and Rico ignored it.
“Take off yo’ shirt, homeboy,” Thumper said after a long pause. He flared his nostrils. “I gotta make sure you ain’t wearin’ a wire.”
Rico took off his shirt. He had been a basketball player in high school, and he had largely kept up the same training regiment even now, giving him a perfect six-pack and a powerful chest. He carried himself like he thought he was bigger and taller than his actual size. Thumper would say he was uppity like a fog in the sky. But Thumper do enjoy a pretty young nigga with dimples and a booty too big for his britches.
“I mean… Thumper, you ain’t gotta… y’know, grope me and shit,” Rico said. He glared again at Angel. “I’ll do it. I know… They said you was gonna, y’know, make me jerk you off.”
“I ain’t a ramrod,” Thumper said.
It did not look like Rico believed that. “Well, uh… just… you ain’t gotta seduce me, homeboy. I done fuck around on the downlow before. C’mon, tell me what to do.”
“Maybe I like seducin’ homeboys, man. Shut yo’ mouth. Don’t just say it. Seduction is half the fun,” Thumper said. He delicately kissed Rico on the side of the cheek and frowned when he winced. “Today is yo’ lucky day, Rico. Cuz I got this pretty whiteboi right here. He gonna service us both. You ain’t gotta do nothin’ but sit here and look handsome.”
“Oh… okay…”
Thumper cleared his throat. “Well, you gotta do a few things besides look handsome. Go on and do some push-ups, homeboy.”
Rico rolled his eyes. He just wanted to get straight to the nasty stuff so he could finish up with that and leave. He was missing the riot. If he went out there soon, he could still get into a few stores and do some looting.
He got down on the ground to do his push-ups, while Thumper and Angel sat on the couch together. Angel buried his head in Thumper’s arms. Thumper had taken his shirt off as well, so Angel could rest his face in Thumper’s bicep and smell his funky armpit while they watched Rico work out.
The lines on his back flexed and writhed as though his muscles were trying to escape. He had a little padding over his flesh — the perfect amount of padding in Angel’s eyes — but when he was stretched and straining to do more push-ups, all that padding seemed to disappear, leaving behind nothing but powerful curves gleaming with beads of sweat.
Angel kissed Thumper’s bicep, which flexed beneath his lips. Thumper didn’t look away from Rico though, and he listened intently as Rico grunted with each push-up. Angel smiled. Rico seemed to be surprised by how exhausted he was, like he had thought he was just supposed to do a few push-ups to pump up his muscles, but Thumper had him continue until he struggled to keep going.
Thumper watched like a coach angry over an insolent player, or like he was annoyed Rico hadn’t turned into a woman already. His muscles flexed where Angel touched him.
Then Thumper kissed Angel on the lips — he grabbed Angel’s hair and lifted his head. He kissed him as though it was an attack, planting his lips on Angel’s and shoving his tongue into Angel’s mouth. He held Angel’s head in place and opened his mouth wide.
Angel was so shocked by the suddenness of it that for a moment his tongue just lay there like a dead fish. Then he kissed Thumper back, their hearts pounding in sync as Angel contorted in Thumper’s powerful grasp.
“Ugh! That’s that nasty-nasty,” Rico said. He’d stopped his push-ups and was on his knees now, his upper body gleaming with sweat.
“Shut yo’ face. I ain’t say to stop yo’ push-ups, did I?” Thumper snarled. “They tol’ me that the only reason they give you any responsibility is on account of yo’ muscles, homeboy. So I gotta make sure they as big as can be. Do a hundred more push-ups.”
Rico shook his head and rolled his eyes like he didn’t want to do it. He had already done at least a hundred push-ups. His eyes flickered to the riots outside the window. “It’s hot in here,” Rico said. “You got air conditioning?”
“Nah. Take off yo’ pants if you hot.”
Rico hesitated like he didn’t want to do it, but he accepted that it was going to happen eventually anyway. He took off his shoes and pants. His ass was perfectly plump, cradled by his tight boxer shorts.
The sight of his cheeks, fabric clinging to the skin by the fresh sweat that dripped over his ass, made Angel so hard he had to resist jacking himself off right then and there. But instead Thumper kissed him some more.
Finally Rico groaned and collapsed onto the floor on his belly. “That was a hundred, Thumper. That was a hundred thirty-three total.”
“Was it? You sure you count right?”
Rico lay flat on the floor on his belly, covered in sweat. His arms and shoulders quivered. “Yeah, nigga. I sure. I counted right.”
It seemed clear to Angel that Thumper didn’t know if that was or was not right — Thumper was making out with Angel the entire time. It would be impressive if he maintained a count of Rico’s push-ups at the same time.
“You dance, homeboy?”
“What?”
“I axt you if you dance. homeboy.” Thumper spat his words like he didn’t tolerate repeating himself. He scowled at Rico.
“Uh… Yeah. I mean… Sorta.”
“What? You best get better at answerin’ questions, nigga,” Thumper said. He kissed Angel again, frowning at Rico as he watched his body tremble on the floor. Angel nuzzled the tight, tattooed flesh of Thumper’s neck. He inhaled of his delicious old-homeboy scent — Thumper wasn’t really old, but he smelled like an old man, like all the older homeboys he had lived with behind bars until just a few days ago. He smelled like an old homeboy whom time had left behind.
That was fine with Angel. He didn’t like conflict, but he loved Thumper’s body. He tongued Thumper’s prison-toned chest and arms as Thumper settled back to watch Rico, who stood on weak knees at Thumper’s command.
“Dance for me, homeboy. Make it girlish,” Thumper said.
Rico had that macho awkwardness around dancing, especially in an unusual situation like this. He actually danced a lot — with girls, in darkened nightclubs, when no one really paid much attention to him, and where there was loud music playing with an easy beat to dance to. None of that was true right now, so Rico did little more than writhe awkwardly.
But Thumper nodded as though that was acceptable. He looked Rico up and down hungrily, like he wanted to reach out and touch Rico but wasn’t allowed to. Instead his hands roamed over Angel’s smooth body.
“You a pretty whiteboi.”
Thumper’s fingers were callused and work-roughened from his time behind bars. He had worked on a chain gang nearly every day of his thirty-four years behind bars. He had built most of the new prison infirmary building, and Angel could sense all of that hard work in this thickened pads of his fingertips caressing Angel’s smooth skin.
Now that he had gotten started, Rico was dancing a little better, with more confidence. He bounced around in front of the couch, his massive cock and balls flopping beneath his boxer shorts.
“Turn around and get yo’ ass up in the air,” Thumper said. He resumed kissing Angel, as Rico backed himself up and started to shake his ass right in front of Thumper.
His boxer shorts stuck to the skin of his ass as he shook his cheeks. Thumper watched those massive globes tremble and vibrate in sync with an unheard beat — the only sounds in the apartment, aside from moist kissing and Rico’s tired grunts, were the pop of gunfire, the blare of sirens and the shouts of an ongoing brawl outside.
Then, without warning, Thumper rammed his entire face between those cheeks, planting his nose in the fabric covering Rico’s asscrack. Thumper loudly inhaled, like Rico was cocaine and Thumper wanted to snort him up, and he sighed at the intensely sweaty smell in his nostrils.
“Take off yo’ shorts now, nigga,” Thumper said. He guided Angel’s hand to his crotch. Thumper still wore his jeans, so Angel massaged his cock through the denim. It was rock-hard and throbbing already.
Rico bristled as he dropped his shorts. His brown ass was perfect, and his mandingo dick was so big Angel could see it from behind, where it dangled between his legs. It was like a forearm, Angel thought, a veiny slab of meat that Angel wanted to suck to the root.
“Keep dancing.”
He sighed again but did so. His bare asscheeks shook in front of Angel’s face, but Angel focused more on kissing Thumper’s nipples, sucking on his powerful pecs, as he stroked Thumper’s cock.
The smell of his fresh sweat was alluring. It was intense and it brought tears to Angel’s eyes. He wanted to lick that ass more than anything.
“Go’n, whiteboi, do it,” Thumper murmured. “I wanna watch you do it.”
Angel’s heart thrilled as he dove between those cheeks. Rico yelped in surprise, and he stopped moving, bent over with his ass high in the air. Angel had to stretch his neck to reach his ass.
The sweat tasted just as good as he hoped. He licked each asscheek, and a jolt of desire shot through him as he felt Rico tremble beneath Angel’s tongue’s touch.
It was Thumper who guided Angel’s head. He grabbed Angel’s hair and rubbed his face up and down between Rico’s cheeks, murmuring and groaning as Angel licked and sucked on every inch of Rico’s backside.
“Turn around, Rico,” Thumper said.
Rico did. His eyes were half-closed, and his dick was half-hard, sticking straight out from his hairy crotch. He was a big man with a cock to match; it was at least twelve inches long and it wasn’t even fully erect yet.
“You hard, homeboy,” Thumper said with an annoyed grunt.
Rico winced and frowned. “I don’t mean nothin’ by that, Thumper. E’ryone knows you into this shit. I just like gettin’ my asshole licked. Not many girls is into that.”
“Hmm-hmm,” Thumper said. “I need to check ya for contraband, homeboy. You got a wire under there?” His hand snaked between Rico’s legs and under his balls. He thoroughly fingered the flesh there, making Rico’s dick twitch and grow even harder.
Angel started sucking without really thinking about it. He got the feeling Thumper wanted him to, and of course Angel wanted to, and it seemed Rico was eager to just get his nut off so he could go out and loot with his homeboys. So Angel swallowed his cock while Thumper played with Rico’s balls.
“Damn…” Rico laughed to cover up his anxiety. “I, uh… I know you ain’t checkin’ for a wire under my balls.”
“Shut yo’ facehole, Rico.”
He deep-throated Rico’s cock even before Rico started throating him down. He nestled his nose deep in Rico’s crotch, his tongue slathering saliva all along the shaft as it pulsated inside Angel’s throat. He couldn’t quite deep-throat the whole thing, but he enjoyed trying.
One of Thumper’s hands was on the root of Rico’s cock, stroking it, just that little length that Angel couldn’t fit into his mouth. Thumper’s other hand wrapped around Angel’s body, gently stroking Angel’s dick — since Angel was on the verge of blowing his load already, Thumper didn’t fully jack him off, or Angel would have cum in seconds.
“You ain’t gotta cover it up, Thumper. No one cares. They know you did time for the organization, nigga,” Rico said. His voice broke and he shuddered as a wave of pleasure went through him. Sour-sweet precum coated Angel’s tongue. Rico grunted. “They got respect for you even if you a pervert.”
“I said shut yo’ facehole, Rico,” Thumper said. “I’s just gettin’ to know you, that’s all. We gotta know each inside and out, nigga. ‘Specially inside.” Then he pulled on Angel’s hair to drag his face off Rico’s cock. In one smooth motion he leaned in and licked Rico’s shaft, from root to tip, slowly and with great care like if he did it wrong, Rico might shatter into a million pieces. Rico shuddered. Thumper smiled, then reinserted Angel onto his cock. “Now I know you a little better, Rico. I need to rely on you to do yo’ part, and I need to know how you work. Now I know how a piece of you work.”
“My cock? You know how my cock work, homeboy? It work the same as any other cock, nigga-” Rico cut himself off and blanched as Thumper scoffed at him. Rico bit his lip. Then his dick spasmed and his balls crawled up in his sac. Angel could feel the orgasm beginning in his cockroot and extending out in waves. Rico’s muscles flexed as Thumper massaged his chest and his plump asscheeks.
Then a burst of cum sprayed into Angel’s mouth. It was a thick and creamy load, which coated Angel’s tongue and the roof of his mouth. It trickled down his throat.
He continued cumming for what seemed like a long time, as though there was a big backlog of cum in his balls. Angel moaned at the salty flavor overwhelming him, and Thumper even moaned too, his face so close to the action that Angel’s sputtering resulted in drops of cum and spit landing on Thumper’s face.
Then finally Rico was done. He sighed. His cock throbbed as it grew limp in Angel’s mouth.
“You blow a good load, homeboy,” Thumper said. He kissed Angel on the lips, licking up the remnants of cum that still coated Angel’s face and tongue. He groaned into Angel’s mouth. “Yeah… now I think we gettin’ to know each other fo’ real.”
Rico took a step back. He pulled his exquisitely sensitive dick away from Angel’s face. Thumper stroked his moist shaft.
“So, Rico… Do you like the taste of chocolate or vanilla better?” Thumper asked. He and Angel leaned back on the couch.
Rico rolled his eyes. “Uh… Chocolate, I guess.”
“I’m glad you said that, Rico. You got a nice mouth. My dick’s gonna look real nice in there,” Thumper said. “Come here and sit on this whiteboi’s cock.”
Rico shrugged. He turned around with his ass aimed at Angel, who had him wait for a moment while Angel licked his hole some more to open it up. Once he had it well-lubed with spit, Angel leaned back. Rico gritted his teeth as he lowered his ass onto Angel’s meat.
All at once when Angel’s cocktip slid into Rico, the big thug grunted, his muscles tensed and his asshole clenched. A jolt of incredible pleasure shot up Angel’s spine.
“Relax, homeboy, take a deep breath,” Thumper said. He massaged Rico’s ass, rubbing on the fleshy cheeks and caressing his back. Rico remained right there with just the first couple centimeter’s of dick inside him. Thumper licked the sweat off his back. “Ain’t nuthin’ bettuh than watching a homeboy get it up the ass fo’ the first time.”
“Ain’t the first-time, homeboy. I tol’ you I mess around on the downlow, right?” Rico wrinkled his nose. “No pro’lem. Feels fine. I don’t even notice no whiteboy dick.” Despite that, he did grimace in pain.
Thumper snorted like he was disappointed, but he didn’t say anything. Rico bit his lip as he lowered his ass a little more. Angel’s fat white cock slid into his tight hole.
The positioning was awkward for Angel, though all he had to do was sit there. Angel massaged the muscles of Rico’s back, but could only reach halfway up, not even far enough to touch those awe-striking shoulder muscles.
Then Thumper stood up. His body was much more toned than Rico’s, his asscheeks like tight little orbs. He didn’t have a perfect six-pack either — he was too old for that — but he was thickly-built. He stood on the couch next to Angel, who was overwhelmed by stimulation from the massive ass now riding his dick. Rico grimaced and grunted with each motion he made, his ass lowering itself onto Angel’s throbbing meat.
From his vantage point on the couch, Angel caressed both Rico’s asscheeks and Thumper’s thighs. Meanwhile Thumper grabbed ahold of Rico’s head, and slowly, gently but firmly, guided Rico to face Thumper.
Rico sighed and opened his mouth. Without a word of warning, Thumper’s fat cock pushed in past his lips.
With Rico focused on the cock in his mouth, Angel could really start plowing his dick in. Rather than Rico lowering his ass onto Angel’s cock, Angel started to pump his dick upward, ramming Rico deep in his backside.
“Nice mouth, homeboy, I can tell you got good experience at it,” Thumper said with a moan. “You gotta introduce me to the homeboys you on the downlow wit’. I can swing downlow too.”
Though Rico flexed and snorted in pain at first, he soon relaxed, and he took every inch of Angel’s cock. It slid into him, slapping into his massive ass, as his muscles writhed beneath Angel’s touch. Angel reached around to handle his dick, which was still moist and soft — there was always something appealing, Angel thought, about playing with soft dickmeat. It felt like a piece of loose flesh, an extra muscle not attached to anything, and its veiny shaft pulsated beneath Angel’s grasp.
The whole situation was so incredible that Angel shot his load first. He pumped his dick all the way in, surprised at how intense his pleasure was as it rocketed up his spine. His fingers turned into claws that gripped Rico’s meaty back.
Cum flowed and poured into Rico’s ass. It coated his insides, its warmth spreading to every corner of his body. Angel could tell that his load was huge even though he couldn’t see it. He just sprayed wad after wad of manjuice into Rico’s body.
“Sit over here now, homeboy,” Thumper said, pointing to the spot on the couch next to Angel.
Rico pulled off Angel’s cock and sighed with relief as his ass emptied. A giant wad of cum escaped, landing on Angel’s dick and his thigh. Then Rico sat down on the couch, wincing as pain enveloped his sensitive ass when he first put his weight on it.
“Open up, but you gotta share, homeboy,” Thumper said. He didn’t give Rico much of an opportunity before shoving his precum-leaking cock back into Rico’s mouth.
Angel joined in. Rico seemed to want to let Angel take over on Thumper’s dick, but Thumper didn’t allow it. Angel had to stand on the couch in order to put his face even with Rico’s, so he could lick Thumper’s shaft and slurp on his balls.
“Both you handle a nigga dick pretty good,” Thumper said. Only Rico was really doing that though, since Angel was licking up and down Thumper’s juicy ballsac, slurping up the sweat that clung to his underside.
Angel had only barely gotten started when Thumper groaned. Thumper’s hands guided Rico’s up to his chest, where Rico awkwardly played with Thumper’s nipples. Thumper bucked his hips, slamming his dick all the way into Rico’s choking throat.
Angel felt the orgasm even before it began, in the throbbing of Thumper’s heavy ballsac in Angel’s mouth. Then those balls ascended in his scrotum, and Angel sensed the cum pouring forth from Thumper’s cock.
“Swallow it, nigga. So you get to know my body,” Thumper said with a moan.
Rico gagged at the taste of cum coating his tongue, but he didn’t stop. So much spit was generated that it spilled out past Rico’s lips, coating his massive chest and dripping onto Angel’s face.
It was both cum and saliva, as Rico drooled and accepted the torrent of fluids down his throat. Thumper’s powerful trunk-like thighs flexed and shook.
Finally, when he was done. Thumper pulled out and kissed Rico on the lips, tasting his own cum. Rico grimaced but accepted that. “Nasty, nigga,” he said when Thumper pulled away. “I knew you was gonna do that too.”
“Oh, you think you know e’rything, huh, Rico?”
Rico shrugged. “Can I go now? I wanna go loot some, befo’ the riot is all done.”
“Fine, nigga,” Thumper said. He sat next to Angel and wrapped his sweaty body around him. Angel snuggled into his muscles. Thumper smiled and kissed Angel on the cheek.
Rico stood up to leave. He looked relieved.
“Just make sure you come back,” Thumper said. “Get some lube while you out. Come on back befo’ too late. We got some all-night… tasks to perform.”

The Retired Boxer Bottoms

Avery is a masseur with an older man as a client. He’s a retired boxer, and he has some interesting ideas about how to get his needs met. Can Avery do what it takes to satisfy his studly new client?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery awkwardly accepted payment from a client. He smiled and said some polite things, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward. This client was a hefty young man, a beefy jock with a powerful body but also a big belly and a hairy, unpleasant ass. He had come to the massage parlor in search of sexy Asian masseuses who could give him a handjob for a few dollars. There were no sexy Asian masseuses here, there was only Avery, and he didn’t give handjobs to tubby stinkbombs.
It was a miscommunication that happened often in this massage parlor right off campus. It simply came with the territory. He didn’t mind — it was awkward, but on the other hand, he sometimes got a hunky jock who was just horny enough to go for it, and on those occasions, Avery both got paid and got to give a handjob.
He was finally almost done with college. He needed this one massage practical credit to complete his degree in physical education. Then, at last, his parents would get off his back about graduating.
He went back into his massage room and cleaned up in preparation for his next client, whose name was Carver Weatherbee. That was such an old-man name it made Avery chuckle to himself. He liked mature men with good physiques, but not old guys. Aa lot of decrepit old men came in here for massages in lieu of surgery they had declined over and over.
Carver Weatherbee was probably another man like that. Avery got a lot of that kind of business because this massage parlor accepted Medicare. They barely paid anything for the massages he gave, but Avery made them quick and simple. Some of those old people told their younger friends, family and nurses that he gave good massages. A lot of those who didn’t want a handjob — who genuinely wanted a massage — preferred to find out about massage parlors through word-of-mouth because all advertising for massage parlors ended up looking prostitute-y.
Carver Weatherbee… Avery snickered. If he was a screenwriter brainstorming names that screamed “old coot”, that’s what he would come up with.
He went out into the waiting area when he heard the bell tinkle, fully expecting to see a rickety white man with an oxygen tank and a Congolese nurse at his side.
Instead, however, he saw a mature black man with the physique of a warrior. Avery blushed and dropped his clipboard. He blanched and covered his face as he picked up it up.
Carver Weatherbee was about fifty, and, though his face didn’t look younger than that, he did have the body of a younger man. He was built like a boxer — which was because he, in fact, was a boxer. Or had been thirty years ago, and he’d been a boxing coach for more than a decade, helping him keep his barrel-shaped box-like stack of muscles intact.
His face was worn and weathered now, wrinkles along his cheeks and his square jaw. His hair was mostly black and streaked with gray, but his unkempt goatee was mostly gray and streaked with black. He chewed on his lower lip.
“Hiyuh,” Carver said with a sigh. He had rather hoped his masseur would be a woman, even though his daughter said that wouldn’t happen — she said “masseur” meant “male”. Carver didn’t believed her. As far as he was concerned, no self-respecting man would ever become a masseur. That was woman’s work.
He had forgotten about pansies, he thought as he followed Avery into the back. The pinkboy shook his ass in a most tantalizing way. Carver flared his nostrils, looking Avery up and down hungrily.
“So, uh, Mr. Weatherbee, is there a specific area of the body you need assistance with? I believe your daughter mentioned you had shoulder pain on the phone.”
“Umm-huh. Shoulder.”
“Okay, okay, well, I’m going to do whatever I can to make you feel better,” Avery said. He opened the door to the massage room.
Carver looked Avery up and down with a horny simmer in his eyes. Avery sensed that, and caught a glimpse of the tall man’s eyes aimed down at Avery’s ass. Was he checking out Avery’s behind? Or was he angry that he had to let a sissy touch him? Could be either one.
“Is it both shoulders that are hurting you?” Avery said. He patted the exam table, and Carver hopped up onto it. He wore a sleeveless work shirt, through which his long, fleshy arms protruded, the sleeveless hole having ripped to the point where Avery could see his side and his armpit. He wore tattered old basketball shorts too, the real long kind they don’t make anymore.
Avery shuddered with desire as Carver took off that shirt and explained. “So, uh, yeah, mistuh, uh, I gots pain in my left shoulder, evuh since this time last year, right, I was helpin’ this homeboy move into a new ‘partment on Windsor Ave, huh? You feel me?”
“Hmmm.” Avery had trouble focusing on his words because Carver’s chest and broad back beckoned. He took a deep breath and quickly checked out Carver’s joints — if there was something seriously wrong, Avery wasn’t allowed to do the massage; he would have to refer him to a doctor or orthopedic surgeon. But he saw no clear anatomical reason for pain.
“So, uh, this homeboy be askin’ me, like can I help and shit? Ya know? And I’s like, yeah, sure, cuz I’m his coach — I coach boxers and shit, y’know? And uh, I was like yeah I help ya motherfucker, but I ain’t know he wasn’t even gonna do nothin’. I ain’t expectin’ payment, ya feel me? I’s doin’ that as a friend. As a coach. As yo’ homeboy. You feel me?”
“Hmmm… Yeah, I, uh-” Avery wasn’t sure how this story seemed to have gotten away from the shoulder pain.
“But he ain’t even try and buy me no dinner or nothin’. He got a Puerto Rican girl too. They can cook, I reckon. They got them little tamale things — they don’t call ’em tamales, they slap the fuck outta you if you call ’em tamales. But they good as shit. I can eat the crap outta them, lemme tell you!” His big booming voice echoed.
“Your shoulder?”
“Right, yeah, so I’s like liftin’ and shit, puttin’ his junk in the truck, right?” He demonstrated himself lifting and even stood as though he needed to re-enact it. Avery didn’t mind watching because it meant he could see those broad shoulders flex and stretch. He even massaged them a little as he looked for anatomical irregularities. Carver continued the story. “See? And I lift his shit up into the truck — he got his girl’s brother to let ‘im borrow that. You best believe I don’t let no one borrow my truck, no suh, I tells ’em straight up I been burned on that one too many times. I don’t care if I’m yo’ coach, yo’ friend, yo’ homeboy, yo’ goddamn identical twin brother, I ain’t handin’ ovuh my truck, ya feel me?”
“Hmm-hmm. Your shoulder?”
“Yeah, so it started hurtin’. I tol’ that homeboy, you best show some goddamn gratitude, ya feel me? I done took you in when ya mama wasn’t takin’ no care of you, and I done raised you like a son, and you can’t even buy yo’ old man some pizza or some shit?”
Avery rolled his eyes. It took that incredibly long story and all he had to say was that he lifted something and his shoulder started hurting. Trying to get information from old people, he thought, was impossible.
“I see, okay,” Avery said. He patted Carver on that broad, firm back. “Go ahead and lay down on your belly. Take off your shorts please.”
Most men only took off their actual shorts, not their underwear. Even the ones who knew Avery would give them a handjob didn’t do that. But for some reason, Carver did, without a second thought.
He just dropped his shorts and his boxers, and flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “You ain’t gonna try and jack me off, is you?”
“No, sir,” Avery said. He was deflated. Obviously that clued him in that Carver was in the no-handjob camp. Avery almost added: unless you want me to but he thought that might not go over very well, so he bit his tongue.
“Shit, I don’t do that handjob nonsense. Man, that is some weakling bullshit,” he said. “I got real man dick, ya feel me? I got homeboy-dick.” He flopped his hefty shaft against his palm, then climbed up onto the massage table.
His back stretched out, his asscheeks bare and quivering as he settled into place. He had nice, huge plump cheeks, not perfect, just slightly fleshy and saggy, just the perfect amount, Avery thought, enough to grab onto and play with but not fat or flabby. He wanted to kiss each cheek.
“Man, I need this shit, damn. Wifey don’t touch me much these days, swear to God,” he said as Avery began kneading his back and his thick muscles. He rolled his spine, undulating as though trying to massage his own back on Avery’s hands.
He had that dense muscularity that barrel-chested men had, and which Avery adored. It felt like there were layer after layer of meaty muscle atop Carver’s body, and Avery caressed every inch of it.
“How’s that feel?”
“Good….” Carver said, letting out a deep roaring moan.
“Okay, you can roll over,” Avery said.
Carver hesitated. “Hey, so, uh… I don’t wanna, like… I mean, I ain’t mean nothin’ by it, but you know… I got a big dick and I get hard at anything, man, I swear, like a homeboy half my age. I ain’t meanin’ nothin’. I ain’t sayin’ I is gonna ramrod you or nothin’.”
“Oh? Do you have an erection? That’s okay, it’s very common,” Avery said.
Carver grimaced as he rolled over. His foot-long cock throbbed, as hard as his muscles beneath all his padding. That was not as common as Avery had implied — sure a little chubby here and there was normal, but a full-on throbbing boner? That was not typical.
As professionally as he could muster and without looking at Carver’s dick, Avery massaged his chest and his shoulders. Carver closed his eyes. He grunted like he was frustrated.
“Man, lemme show you a spot… Okay?” Carver’s callused paw gripped Avery’s hand.
Avery sucked in his breath. Carver brought Avery’s hand down to his cock. His fingers brushed against it. Carver opened his eyes wide.
“I thought you didn’t want me to… Do you…?” Avery blushed, his heart thumping.
“Ssssssh… I don’t wanna hear you askin’ no questions,” Carver said. “I said I don’t want no handjob, cuz I’m a real man. That don’t mean you can’t touch it a bit.” He gently touched Avery’s head. “You act a sissy, right?”
Avery nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He licked his lips. “Goddamn, I love it when whiteboys call me sir.” He watched as Avery’s hand wrapped around his cock and began stroking. Carver instantly threw his head back, sighed and pistoned his hips, forcing his dick up and into Avery’s hand.
He kept touching Avery’s head. It was obvious he wanted Avery’s mouth, but didn’t want to ask for it. Avery slowly lowered his head. He pretended to be hesitant, like he had never done it before. “Do you want me… to put my mouth on it?”
“Shush, no questions, boy. Just do what comes natural. You the massager, you know how to do it. Just massage me, okay? Massage me like you feel-” He groaned as Avery’s mouth touched his dick.
He guided Avery’s head as he licked the shaft, then suckled on the tip, making lots of spit drip down into Carver’s crotch. Avery deep-throated him the best he could.
Carver’s hand remained on his head, pushing and pulling him up and down. It soon became apparent he wanted Avery to focus on the underside of his shaft.
“Yeah, lick it down real low, man, lick it real low,” Carver said with a throaty moan.
Avery did so. He placed his head underneath Carver’s big black cock, which flopped all over his face. He licked and slathered spit on the throbbing vein there, near the base of his dick where it met his scrotum.
“Hmmm… You doin’ real good, boy, just keep slurpin’. Do what comes natural to ya. I know you like dick, right? You like balls too, most likely, I ‘xpect,” he said. He moistly sucked on his lower lip, making his salt-and-pepper goatee shake.
Does he want me to lick his balls? That seemed to be where he was pushing Avery’s head, so Avery obliged. They were big and full, ripe, moist with sweat and precum. He tasted salty and delicious. Avery guzzled it down and let his mouth with fill with that heavy sac, until his nose was pressed into the base of his shaft.
“Hmm, you got it, you got it good, boy, hell…”
Then in one smooth motion, without a word of warning, Carver lifted his legs. He was laying on his back, and he lifted his giant trunk-like thighs. That gave Avery easy access to Carver’s balls.
And his taint and his asshole. Does he want a rimjob now?
Avery did it. He licked a trail down Carver’s taint to his ass and plowed his tongue right in. Carver shuddered and moaned.
“I ain’t say you could lick my butthole, boy,” he said. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look down. He grabbed Avery by the hair and made eye contact with him. “I’ll allow it this time, but I don’t let no one play wit’ my butthole. No fingers.”
Avery nodded. He was definitely trying to get me to lick his ass, he thought. What game is Carver playing? But for now, he just licked
Carver’s ass was warm and funky and just slightly hairy, just enough to remind Avery he was licking a man. Still though, he sensed Carver wasn’t quite done. Carver was waiting for something. When Avery tried to jack him off as he lapped at his asshole, Carver swatted his hand away.
Does he want to ramrod me? Avery was excited at the prospect.
Carver took Avery’s hand in his once more, taking it away from his cock and to his ass. He seemed to want Avery to spread his cheeks to get his tongue deeper in there.
“Don’t you dare finger me, sissy,” Carver said with a knowing smirk on his face.
Avery caught that smirk and stopped licking for a moment. Was Carver hinting the opposite of what he said? His face looked sarcastic. Did he want to get fingered? He dragged Avery’s finger closer to his ass.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ gettin’ pleasure, boy,” Carver said. “I can get pleasure from all kinda females. Ya know? They do… different things.”
“Hmm-hmm.” Avery pulled off his asshole and slurped up all the moisture that leaked out of his tight hole. “Did you want me-?”
“No questions. Just do what comes natural, sissy. If I don’t like it, I will smack the tongue outta yo’ mouth,” he said, with a moist, gravelly mouth.
“I…” Avery wasn’t sure what to do or say. He resumed licking, but this time he planted his finger very near Carver’s hole. He played with the rim, just pressing down lightly.
Carver again pushed his hand, just a tiny bit, pushing his finger a half-inch lower.
That made Avery’s fingertip slip into Carver’s ass. Carver grunted and groaned, his whole body coming alive. He writhed in exquisite pleasure. Carver closed his eyes and covered his eyes with his arm, which bared his big furry armpit.
“Hmm, whiteboy, I like the way you think. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ gettin’ a nut off in strange places, is there? Nosuh, nothin’ wrong wit’ that at all.” He sucked in his breath as Avery’s entire pinkie finger slid into his ass.
His ass is definitely not intact, Avery thought. He kept fingering Carver with one pinkie while jacking him off with his other hand. It made him giggle to think his tiny pinkie finger could bring such intense pleasure to such a large man.
He found Carver’s prostate and pressed, making Carver’s whole body quiver and flex. Carver sucked in his breath.
“You got a big dick, sissy?”
Avery blushed and looked up from Carver’s ass. His voice was shaky. “Uh… Not… huge, I guess. It’s… normal.”
Carver grunted as though he didn’t care. “I know you wanna bring it out. Don’t me stop you. Don’t you dare try and stick it in my ass. I ain’t on the DL.”
Now what was this? Given everything that had happened up to now, the only reasonable explanation was that Carver wanted to take dick in his ass.
But surely that wasn’t it.
Regardless, Avery did take his dick out and gave it a few strokes. He was ready to bust any time. He kept licking and fingering Carver’s ass, using both pinkies now, not even stroking him off. Carver had both hands behind his head.
“Shit, man, that little whiteboy dick ain’t barely bigger than yo’ pinkie,” Carver said. “Wouldn’t hurt at all to take that in.”
That had to be a sign. First of all, Carver hadn’t even looked. He didn’t know how big Avery’s dick was. Secondly, Avery’s dick was much bigger than any pinkie finger. He didn’t have a giant dick like Carver, but he was certainly way bigger than a pinkie finger.
He wants to get cornholed.
“Have you ever… y’know… been cornholed?” Avery asked. He blushed.
“I done ramrod some prison bitches and certain disreputable mothahfuckahs who needed to get taught a lesson,” Carver said. He chuckled, making his whole body writhe and clench around Avery’s fingers.
“So you don’t want to… get ramrodded now?”
“Man, yo’ questions is ruinin’ the mood. I said no questions,” Carver said. “I ain’t a bumbasher.”
Avery frowned. He still didn’t have a clear answer. Was a bumbasher a sissy? Or a ramrod? Either way, it wasn’t an answer to the question. “So if I started to put my dick near your ass, like this-” He stood up excruciatingly slowly and wedged his dick into Carver’s asscheeks. “You’d stop me if you were going to hit me for doing it?”
“I ain’t some kinda bashful homeboy. I will beat yo’ ass if you even think ’bout makin’ me into yo’ bitch,” Carver said, his eyes scrunched tightly shut. He closed his eyes, reached for his own ass and gripped Avery’s cock. He guided it to his hole. “You gonna stick it in, sissy?”
Avery thought the more he said, the less likely Carver was to keep going. So he just shrugged and slipped the tip of his dick in. Carver’s hairy tree-like thighs trembled. He had been holding them aloft for a long time, but he showed no signs of being exhausted.
With a stool to stand on, Avery was able to slowly drill his cock in. Carver squirmed and writhed as though he was already on the verge of pleasure — obviously, Avery thought, Carver loved the butt-stuff.
“Have you ever been ramrodded before-?”
“Hey!” Carver barked, wincing because that made his ass move painfully around Avery’s dick. “Hey! I ain’t nevuh get ramrodded, no way. I got… I got pleasures deep inside me, and yeah, I let mothahfuckahs go diggin’ for ’em…” He smiled like he was imagining it, and he even touched Avery’s chest as though there might be breasts there. “You pretty as pink, boy. I can forgive you not having titties. But remember, no way am I lettin’ you ram me — I got anal integrity, yessuh! I will let you… you know… when we in the throes of passion, boy, rules don’t apply. Don’t you dare go thinkin’-” He howled as Avery’s dick slipped the rest of the way in. “C’mon, boy, slam it in. Work it!”
Avery tried to plow him hard. But Carver was so much bigger than him that it was awkward, and Avery had to hold onto his legs for support. He pushed his meat in, using all of his might to keep Carver’s massive flesh in position.
He stroked Carver off at the same time, making it hard for Carver to stay still. He squirmed and gasped and bit his lip, undulating beneath Avery. Avery had never rammed anyone like this — not anyone that old, anyone that strong, anyone that macho.
He had never even thought this might be where his appointment with Carver Weatherbee would go.
It was obvious Carver was aroused because he shot his wad before Avery. Avery was still plowing into him over and over, making his big asscheeks shake. He felt Carver’s hole clench around him, and Carver let out a bellowing scream.
He gripped Avery by the neck and pulled him roughly down to his face. He kissed Avery on the mouth, tongue ramming violently in as Carver sprayed his cumwad all over his belly. Carver gagged too, from the taste of his own ass still clinging to Avery’s face, but that didn’t slow him down any. He kept on kissing as Avery plowed in and out of his ass.
At last, Avery orgasmed too, his tongue still intertwined in Carver’s. Carver’s goatee scratched at his face.
Great creamy gobs of cum filled Carver’s tight ass, more and more pouring out with each thrust of Avery’s hips. He slammed into Carver over and over — it was nice to plow such a big man, Avery thought, because he could really take a pounding.
“Ah, god-“
“Fuck yeah, whiteboy! Get it in there!” Carver slammed his fists on his chest and screamed in both pain and pleasure.
Avery shot the biggest load of his life. He’d never done anything like that. It made him scream and shout too, but his voice was much weaker than Carver’s.
Then, it was done. Avery blinked a few times, still in shock that this had even happened. His dick limpened slowly. He let it pour out of Carver’s ass, which gripped it as though not going to let go, even though Carver gritted his teeth and growled as though he wanted Avery to pull out faster.
“Ah, shit, whiteboy…”
Every inch sliding out of his ass was exquisite pleasure for both of them. Carver’s heart pounded, his whole body tensing and shaking until at last, Avery’s dick plopped out.
Carver was suddenly exhausted. He closed his eyes. His legs flopped down, nearly knocking Avery to the floor. Carver sprawled out on the massage table, arms dangling off the sides.
“Hmmm… You okay?” Avery asked.
“Hmm-hmm. You give a good massage,” Carver said. He didn’t open his eyes though. Avery got some tissues and wiped Carver’s dick clean, and then he rolled over so Avery could clean his ass.
“Thanks,” Avery said. He blushed. Carver looked like he wanted to take a nap. “Uh… did you…-?”
Carver sighed and stood. He looked down at his massive dick, dangling between his legs, and he winced at the pain in his ass. “Hey, boy, if I send you some homeboys. Boxers — they won’t all be homeboys, some’ll be Puerto Rican,” he said. “Would you take care of ’em?”
“Take care of them how?”
“You’ll see. Just do what comes natural, boy,” Carver said. He took his clothes in hand and walked out, not even getting dressed. His dick swung, still a bit hard, thwacking his meaty thighs. He sniffed his own armpit and wrinkled his nose. “Need a shower, damn…” he murmured to no one in particular.
Avery was too exhausted to tell him to put his clothes on before leaving the building. He didn’t care. Carver would figure it out, he thought, and after that tense encounter, Avery just wanted to nap.
Luckily he had no clients for a couple hours. Just as luckily, Avery was already excited about the prospect of a bevy of boxers coming through. What did Carver expect him to do with them? Avery could imagine he meant anything from giving a real massage to plowing them hard.
Oh well, he figured. I’ll enjoy anything in between there.

The Ladysman

Teddy winds up hiring the handsome Turkish gigolo Emre… Emre needs cash and is willing to pleasure anyone who’s willing to pay, giving Teddy a wild ride in gigolo action!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

The convention was as boring as any convention ever was. Teddy wanted to tear his eyeballs out — he had experienced a lot of conventions, and this was the worst one yet. He had to sling drinks to dozens of businessmen in cheap suits while they tromped all over his hotel.
Of course it wasn’t really his hotel, he was just a bartender who worked at a country club that was also owned by this hotel, so he had been transferred here when the regular bartender called out sick. That sickness had continued so long that Teddy now knew every inch of this place.
Mostly the guests had come here to ski, if they weren’t here for the convention, which was for bathroom fixtures. Teddy couldn’t imagine a more boring topic for a convention. He didn’t even understand how people could have the idea to schedule a convention for bathroom fixtures without dying from absolutely boredom. What kind of person would brainstorm ideas for business ventures and think, “yes, a convention for bathroom-fixture salespersons, that would be a compelling thing that people will pay money for”? And then, the most shocking part of it all, they were right! People did pay money for it! It was a sound business venture!
Just seeing them drink after a day spent doing whatever, Teddy had no idea what someone would actually do at a bathroom fixtures convention, was enough to make Teddy bored to tears. Did they discuss toilets all day? Advanced urinal theory? Ten tricks to make a tampon disposal box more festive for the holidays?
Teddy sighed. Mostly the convention-goers were tubby men with pasty cheeks and layers of flab ensconced in cheap suits. A few sturdy women who look like they get plenty of fiber filled out the ranks. Well, he thought, they certainly look like they know their way around the bathroom. These men look like they’ve spent most of their lives sitting on the toilet trying to get rid of the Big Macs they scarfed down.
Teddy was not happy with this weekend.
“Hey, how are you doing? Gin and tonic, please,” said a throaty woman’s voice. “Make it a double. Double gin, single tonic. Don’t bother trying to upsell me on the gin, just gimme the rail. Or hell, gimme vodka that’s been stored near a spice-cabinet, that’ll do.” She put a cigarette in her mouth. “Got a light?”
Teddy nodded. He lit her cigarette and made her drink. She sipped from it. She was pretty in an upper-class, upper-age, upper-bitch way, with soft brown hair and a botoxed face. She was probably beautiful twenty years ago. He liked her already.
“Slim pickings here this weekend, huh?” Teddy said. He made sure to say it as flamboyantly as he could so she would know he was referring to males.
She chuckled throatily. “Yeah. I guess I never thought a bathroom-fixtures convention would be full of excitement, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“You should have been here a couple months ago, we had a bouncer-event. It was pretty hot. Muscle-bound meatheads everywhere,” Teddy said. He blushed. “You’d have had your pick of men then. Assuming you like ’em big and macho.”
She nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m no muscle-queen, but anything would be better than these toilet-shaped dweebs. I wish I was in that field. Bouncers.” She scoffed. “Well, if only there was money in it…”
“There’s not many women here. What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m in marketing. I know, bathroom fixtures is a boy’s club. I’ve talked to all of the women here, and they’re all stuck-up bitches like me,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. A smile appeared on her stretched-taut face, and she sighed as she finished her drink. “Well, I didn’t come here to get laid anyway. I came here to network.” She paused. “Is there a local joint worth visiting in this one-horse town?”
“Not really.” Teddy paused. “Are you… like… horny?”
She furrowed her brow. “Uh… Well, are you propositioning me?” She laughed haughtily.
“No, not me,” Teddy said. He blushed. “Just… if you wanted to… there’s a guy here, a guy who works as a masseur for the country club next door.”
“Uh-huh.” She yawned and took a long but small sip from her gin and tonic. “I don’t normally hook up with, y’know… the help. Sorry if that makes me sound elitist-“
“No worries. He’s not really the help, exactly. I mean, he’s a masseur, but that’s just a way to meet clients and launder his income,” Teddy said. “He’s really a gigolo. The hotel looks the other way.”
“A what?”
“He’ll fuck you for five hundred dollars,” Teddy said. “And he will rock your world. He’ll make you feel so good your pussy falls off.” He paused. “Or so I’ve heard. He licks pussy like nobody’s business.”
“Are you serious?” She looked like she was going to laugh and say no. Then she fell silent. She looked around the room, then back at Teddy. “Five hundred dollars?”
Teddy nodded. “Just call to the front desk. Ask for a massage. Ask for Emre. If you don’t ask for Emre, they’ll send you this fat Polish lady. I don’t know what she’d do for five hundred dollars, but you probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much as Emre.” Teddy shrugged. “He’s Turkish.”
Her eyes lit up. She didn’t respond right away. She was a smart, well-adjusted businesswoman. She wasn’t here for some prostitution.
But on the other hand… if she were ever going to pay a man for sex…
Teddy had another customer then, so he had to walk away. He watched the lady at the bar consider the possibility for a few moments before she got up. She smiled at Teddy and walked out into the hotel lobby.
Well, there’s a hundred dollars. Teddy could virtually smell the horniness wafting out from under her skirt. She was definitely going to do it.
The rest of the convention was uneventful. Teddy served drinks and pointed men towards the one brothel in town when they asked about women — which they all started doing a little after midnight. Teddy didn’t get paid per client for the brothel, so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about referring them. Emre, however, paid him for each client he sent that way.
Teddy saw the woman — Wendy Allister — the next morning, looking shame-faced yet relaxed. Emre had treated her right, that was clear. He always did. Teddy wished he could watch sometime. Emre made women feel “like liquid gold”, as one lady had told him.
Teddy blushed when he nodded at Emre, who came over to the bar and surreptitiously slipped Teddy his hundred dollars — that was Teddy’s commission for sending Emre a woman.
“Thanks for the lead,” Emre said. He had a dense spatchocking accent, all clutters of consonants and staccato vowels that made Teddy lose himself in those dimples. Seeing Emre smile at him always made Teddy blush and stammer over his words. “She was a very good client.”
He kept talking, but Teddy was entranced. Emre was so arousing it hurt. He had an incredibly thick mane of black hair, densely curly, extending up and down and out all at once. He was strong but lean and ropy-muscled, not at all bulky, with a square jaw and a hooked nose whose imperfect shape made his face all the more handsome.
Teddy was drawn to those sterling green eyes, so bright they were almost fluorescent. Teddy had insisted for months that Emre must wear colored contacts, but Emre denied it.
“She was a very good woman,” Emre said with a grin. “She was a little old, but I do not mind. Old women need loving too.” He pulled out a lottery ticket. It was a winner — two hundred dollars — but he hadn’t cashed it yet. “She gave me this too.” That was a lie, but Emre was a well-practiced liar. It didn’t even occur to Teddy that Emre had been holding onto the lotto ticket for months.
Emre had a gambling problem.
No one knew about it. Teddy knew that Emre occasionally gambled on sports, and he had seen him scratching lottery tickets, but no one knew that Emre barely managed to keep it together — every month, he paid his bills and then spent most of the remainder on lotto tickets, scratch-offs, betting or even trips to the casino on the Indian reservation nearby.
So that four hundred dollars he made this weekend went away pretty quick. He paid off a debt to his bookie. It meant he wouldn’t be able to pay his rent on time this month, but he could get past that. There was going to be a human resources convention next weekend, and Emre thought he’d make plenty of money then.
He’d held onto this winning lotto ticket for months now. He could always cash it. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was winning. Emre had read somewhere that that was one technique to reduce “problem gambling” — not that Emre believed he was a problem gambler — because he could pull it out anytime and feel like he had just won. He would maybe not feel compelled to gamble if he could feel like he had won anytime.
Once he had it in his pocket for a couple days, he didn’t even think about cashing it. It was only two hundred dollars. No problem. He didn’t need the money.
He did need the feeling. He needed to have it in his pocket, so he could finger it and look at it and anticipate what it would be like to cash it in. The way they would look at him at the lotto place — he could go to any gas station and cash it in, but he wanted to go to the lotto office. It felt righter to do it there. They knew how to do it right. They’d look at him like a winner. He’d feel like a winner.
And as long as he didn’t do it, he could savor that feeling.
Regardless, it was that next weekend that the HR convention was in town. Emre figured a human resources director convention would have to be ground zero for gigolos. So many lonely women! He could make bank.
But then that HR convention didn’t happen. The HR directors didn’t show up — the convention was cancelled after a freak snowstorm shut down the airport for the whole weekend. Emre had no way of making money. He needed a couple hundred bucks to pay his bills this month. He’d counted on that HR convention and spent some money he probably shouldn’t have.
Okay, he put money down on a basketball game. A couple basketball games. And he lost every dime.
Not an app either. Emre had been banned from all the sports betting apps because he showed “problem behaviors” and sent a manic avalanche of emails to the developer of one app, when he found a bug — a real bug, he identified how it worked and everything. He’d told the developer about it in emails sent through LinkedIn, which got him banned both from that app and from LinkedIn, and he even got a “stop harassing people” email from GMail.
Anyway, Emre had a bookie, and he now owed that bookie a hundred dollars. Not that much, but he also was late on rent and had these medical bills due…
He was expecting to make at least two grand out of these HR ladies. That should have been easy. If the HR convention happened, he would have, no problem.
But as he pondered his situation, Emre could think of only one way to make the minimum he needed to pay off his bookie and get up to date on his rent.
Teddy wiped the bar down at the end of the night. It had been slow tonight because there was no convention, just a few dozen lonely businesspeople having small meetings or rendezvousing with their mistresses. Emre watched Teddy clean the bar as the night drew to a close.
Unlike Emre, Teddy was glad the HR convention was canceled. He could think of nothing more boring than spending the entire weekend with a bunch of HR ladies. What did they talk about? The mind boggles. It’s probably a marathon of threats to add things to “the permanent record”, endless self-evaluations and probing questions asked by idiots.
But at least Emre was here. Teddy snuck glances at him as he shut down the bar.
Emre was good at flirting with women. He did it without even thinking about it. But how did he flirt with a man? Emre had no idea. It didn’t come naturally to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he didn’t think he could do it.
He flashed a dimpled smile, hoping to get Teddy’s attention. It worked, but then Teddy just went back to cleaning the counter as though he hadn’t noticed — he hadn’t realized that seductive smile was aimed at him. Teddy was so used to seeing Emre flirt with women he didn’t recognize when he was the actual target.
Only gradually did Teddy realize there were no women around. The bar was empty of women. Who was Emre smiling at?
“Hey,” Emre said when Teddy got near him again.
“Oh, hi. Slim pickings, huh?” Teddy said, laughing to himself — that was the same conversation-starter he had used with that woman. Emre didn’t get why it was funny, but he laughed too.
Emre smoothed his hair and straightened the collar of his shirt. “There was a lady in here earlier who seemed like a good prospect, but then she got all mad at me. Said she’s Mormon. I guess they don’t do gigolos.”
“Yeah. Yeah, Mormons don’t do most things.”
A long silence sat between them at the bar. Teddy was ready to take the cash drawer into the back, to put it in the safe, but he sensed Emre wanted to say something more than small-talk. Emre licked his teeth and looked down the drink he was still finishing. Then he knocked back the rest of his brandy and tonic.
Finally, Emre cleared his throat. “I could use a client this weekend for sure. So, uh… you’re… you’re nice, uh.. In the hair.”
“What?” Teddy screwed up his eyes. He had never been complimented like that. He didn’t even understand that Emre was complimenting his hair at first, then when he did get it, Teddy ran his fingers through his hair.
Emre blushed. He was never flustered like this. Women took compliments better than that. He straightened his collar again. How do you compliment men? “I just mean, your hair is nice. Your-“
“My hair? What are you talking about? It’s the same it always is.”
“Sorry, I mean… I just wanted to say, y’know, I know you’re… You have, uh… good… qualities,” Emre said. He was trying to think of things women complimented men on. They always mentioned Emre’s hair, which was dense and jet-black and perfectly wavy, and they liked his dimples and his muscular body. But Teddy was slim and had ordinary white-man hair. Emre wasn’t sure what to compliment on a man like that.
“Okay.” Teddy’s eyes were open wide like he was mystified by what was happening. “Thanks. I guess.”
“Sorry. I, uh… I was just…”
“Do you want to say something to me? Just say it.”
“Will you pay me five hundred dollars to jack me off?!” Emre blurted out. He blushed. He was never that direct. He didn’t even raise his price to give himself room to negotiate down. Teddy knew that was the same price Emre gave to women, but surely it would make sense to charge more for a man. Emre had just forgotten, and now he was leaving money on the table. He couldn’t raise the price now. Oh well, that was enough to get caught up. Five hundred bucks would suffice. He cleared his throat again. “I mean… you know what I mean, right? You do the… You get me off. And pay me. I’ll, you know… treat you like a woman. In ways that you want. That you’ll enjoy.” Emre clammed up. He never got like this with women. Was this how women feel when he made them tongue-tied?
“Hush, you’re babbling,” Teddy said. “You want me to pay you to jack you off?” Emre nodded. Teddy’s mind raced. He had an instinctive desire to say no and tell Emre he’s an arrogant asshole, that Teddy didn’t want him that bad, that he’s not God’s gift to dicks. But Teddy could hardly pretend he didn’t want Emre, and he certainly wanted to do it. “Fine.” He cursed himself immediately because he thought he could have talked Emre down on the price — obviously, Emre was only doing this because he needed the money, so he must have some flexibility.
They both walked away annoyed with themselves for not negotiating more, but neither were willing to call it off for a minor monetary dispute.
And so that was how they ended up in the storage closet just after the bar officially closed. The last of the drinkers had only just left, and the door was locked. The waitresses hadn’t all gone home yet, and some of the tables had yet to be bussed.
Nevertheless, Teddy led Emre into the storage closet in the back, and nobody noticed them sneak in there. In that enclosed space, the reek of Emre’s exotic cologne — something Turkish, vaguely funky, sunny, zesty, like a stretewise lemon — assaulted Teddy’s nostrils and made his dick twitch in his pants. Emre’s solid frame seemed bigger in the dark, his muscles bulging through the fabric of his fancy clothes.
He dressed well, in a Moroccan-style suit. Teddy had never noticed how nice Emre’s clothes were. So few men dressed up these days…
Emre was used to seducing women, and in the dark, he simply did what he would do with a female. Teddy was rather feminine in both shape and mannerisms, so Emre thought he could pretend. He kissed Teddy right on the lips.
Teddy got lost in Emre’s warm arms, and he swooned. He kissed Emre back as his hands explored Emre’s broad chest and shoulders. Their tongues met in Teddy’s mouth.
“Aaaaah…” Emre let out a moan. It was forced, but he knew women were aroused by that sound, so he thought Teddy might be as well.
Teddy’s fumbling fingers undid the buttons of Emre’s shirt, and Emre shrugged off that Moroccan suit. His chest was bare, gleaming in the dim light, and his muscles were firm beneath Teddy’s touch. Teddy’s lips sucked a few droplets of fresh, sparkling sweat off Emre’s broad shoulders.
His kisses traveled down Emre’s body. Emre was glad to get some mouth on the one hand because he very rarely got to do that. When women paid you for sex, he thought, they didn’t want to suck dick. Emre preferred to make love in the womanhood anyway. He stood there, stately and elegant though Teddy couldn’t see him in the darkness, while Teddy kissed a trail down his body.
“Oh, yes, your lips feel so soft and sweet on me…” Emre gulped, hoping he sounded natural. This was the kind of thing he would say to a woman. Somehow it come across as stilted aimed at Teddy, but Teddy either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
It was nice how little effort Teddy required. Women required such constant affirmation, an endless dose of assurances and reassurances and comforting. Every time something was less than perfect, Emre had to apologize and make up for it. With Teddy, all that mattered was his body. It was a tool for Teddy’s pleasure, and it required so little from Emre.
Then Teddy undid Emre’s pants and pulled his dick out. It was big enough to be hefty but not so big as to be painful or intimidating. Teddy thought it was perfect. He kissed it right on the tip, then popped it in his mouth.
Emre moaned. He hoped nobody walked past the closet right now or they would definitely hear him. Normally he moaned in a fake, seductive way — he’d learned what turned most women on — but this time, he had no reason to be seductive. Teddy wanted him already, Emre didn’t need to work to make that happen, and he didn’t even especially want Teddy to like him too much. That would be awkward, and it meant the pleasure suffusing his flesh was more intense and visceral than he was used. His moan was genuine, and it surprised even Emre himself.
His dick stiffened up. Emre shifted his weight into his feet and leaned against the wall of the closet. Precum flowed down Teddy’s throat. Teddy guzzled it greedily, craving every drop. It tasted sweet and sunny, like the Mediterranean islands Emre claimed his ancestors came from (which was a lie, his family had worked in a goat slaughterhouse in urban Istanbul, not that Teddy knew that).
“Ah, man…” Emre sighed. He was surprised by how good this felt. He felt like a teenager again. He wasn’t used to feeling genuinely out-of-control pleasure, rather than carefully-meted out pleasure that he had designed to maximize his clients’s desire for a second go-round. Teddy’s mouth worked up and down on his cock, sending wave after wave of pleasure to rock Emre’s handsome frame.
This time, it was a real orgasm.
He grunted and shook as intense bliss ran through his body. It felt like a real mouth — it was, of course, it was just strange to feel it, no performance, no exaggeration, no seduction, just a real, genuine, authentic climax — and it made Emre’s knees weak. He held onto Teddy’s head for support as he sprayed his cum down his throat.
That was another thing the women who hired him never did: blowjobs. A lot of them just wanted to be eaten out, but even among that minority who wanted to suck his dick, not a single one had ever wanted him to cum in their mouths. So it was nice to shoot his wad directly into Teddy, focusing entirely on his own pleasure for once. His seed coated Teddy’s throat and sat hotly in his belly. Teddy swallowed every drop and begged for more when Emre finally pulled out. Remnants of jizz stuck to Teddy’s face. That was delightfully unclean, so unlike making love to a woman. It made Emre chuckle.
“You taste so good… Let me taste you some more, please?” Teddy crawled to him and thwacked Emre’s till-sensitive cock over his face. That made Emre jerk and twitch. He chased the shaft with his tongue, while a few final drops of cum dribbled from his cocktip. Avery chased those with his tongue too.
Emre grunted and pulled his pants up. He had to pull his cock away from Teddy. “Not now,” he said. “You got what you paid for.”
“And I got my money’s worth!” Teddy blushed and smirked, taking in the body heat emanating from Emre’s body. He stayed where he was though, in that closet, arms wrapped around Emre’s well-muscled body. He had a six-pack like Teddy had never seen on anyone besides movie stars and models before he met Emre. His muscles rippled beneath Teddy’s touch, until eventually he felt he had done enough for the money, and Emre extricated himself.
“Thank you,” Emre said as politely as he could muster. His hair was mussed up now. He’d have to fix it before he headed out there, just in case he found any more women before going home tonight. He hoped he did meet a woman, because the money Teddy gave him was burning a hole in his pocket.
After all, he could stop at the corner shop for a lottery ticket. Or more than one. Surely at least one would be a winner…