Sasha is refurbishing a house in California, and that means hiring a painter. When he winds up with the burly Perico instead of the young hunk he preferred, he didn’t know he was in for a wild ride of alpha male machismo, activo and pasivo action and dominant masculinity!
Or read the whole thing here!
Sasha Lavendeur paid for the painting of the “rec room”, and he went with a low-budget local company, Paint-It Quick, because he was in Santa Monica and California deserved no better than a low-budget company such as that. If Sasha were back in Texas, where he did hail from, he would have chosen a classier outfit.
He needed the guest bedroom painted too, in this hideous home he was renovating in California, but he didn’t want to do that just yet. The house was almost ready to move into. Not that he was going to move in. This home was a flip.
Sasha did not see why anyone would move in, but he was confident the house would sell for a tidy profit.
His knees went weak when he went into the rec room. He had expected Cergio — the eighteen-year old handsome Puerto Rican boy he had hired to do the painting. Instead it was a thirty-something broad-shouldered craggy-faced man with a mustache like a push broom and and an uncomfortably thick ass. He was as handsome as a box of rope and has a similar shape, texture, outlook, attitude and odor.
“Oh. Hi… Where is…?”
“Cergio, he ees gone, señor,” he said with a cluck of the tongue that suggested he was unhappy about that. “I am his father. Perico.” His accent was much thicker than his son’s. He had the broadly lilting accent of a Puerto Rican, which was unusual, even exotic, out here in California.
“Uh… Oh. Okay,” Sasha said, not really listening. He lost himself in Perico’s deep brown eyes and his powerful hands gripping Sasha’s. They shook. Sasha blushed, he couldn’t think about anything but Cergio, who had been positively lovely.
But Perico had a certain brutish charm to him, Sasha thought. Oh, that hair, so wild, untamed, like the mighty mustang of the Texan prairie, and lo, the flecks of paint so tantalizing across his sturdiness… Sasha wanted to run his fingers through that tangled mane. He wanted to wash and comb it then watch Perico get it all greasy and tangled again.
“You want odduh room, señor?” Perico asked. “I will paint, eh?” He counted and put away the money Sasha had done proffer for the rec room. He tucked it into the pocket built into his painter’s overalls.
Sasha blushed and smiled at him, then blushed even more intensely because Perico patted his arm. It was coachly, not at all seductive. It was professional and warm and it made Sasha swoon because he could smell Perico’s clothes and feel his body heat radiating off him.
Perico’s overalls were speckled with multi-colored paint, most freshly the pale seafoam green that he had painted the rec room. “I can paint the other room, señor, two hours. fiddy bucks, señor, I do a good job. Do very good, very quick, more quick than so is my son. He is a lazy and he is gone again and I will hit him in the face for you.” He made a fist to demonstrate.
“That’s not necessary, muh dear Perico-“
But Perico’s face narrowed to slits, and his nostrils flared. “It is needed for yes, I will. He should not have left me, señor, to do this all myself.”
“Hmm… indeed,” Sasha said.
Perico grunted. “So you will hire me for now for the other room, si?”
“Oh, uh, not today, sorry,” Sasha said. “I’m not sure what color we’re going to want that. We might not want the seafoam.”
Perico nodded but didn’t acknowledge it. He led Sasha into the other room, which was currently a dingy, slightly-yellowed white, like the color of an abandoned asylum. The paint was peeling, and Perico pointed it out to Sasha as though he hadn’t noticed it. Sasha always noticed imperfections in decor.
“See? I am to paint, si?” Perico said. “Fiddy dollars for right now, yes?” He paused. “Forty dollars, and I will do it now.” Then, like he had forgotten, he added, “Señor.”
“Yes, it needs to be painted,” Sasha said. “I’m just not sure what color we want it, so I can’t hire you right now.”
Perico shrugged. “I have the paint here, señor. I do it now?”
Sasha shook his head. Perico was big and didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. He put one of those meaty paws on Sasha’s shoulder and squeezed firmly.
“You want dick? I will ram you and paint the room.” His voice trailed off, and he added another one of those distinctly Puerto Rican tongue-clucks that passed for communication. “Sixty dollars, señor.”
Sasha hesitated, but he already savvied the answer. He batted his eyes as winsome as the most tender of French prostitutes. Sasha pretended to be coy, and Perico roughly grabbed Sasha’s asscheeks like disobedient dough.
He grimaced and grunted into Sasha’s face. Sasha’s heart skipped a beat, he wasn’t expecting this, but he loved it, and his whole body fluttered. “Oh… Ah, Perico-“
“¡Silencio!” Perico said. He waited to make sure Sasha would obey him. Then he very roughly, painfully kneaded the flesh of Sasha’s ass with one hand. He spread his cheeks and ran his fingers through the asscrack. Then he nodded like Sasha had passed his inspection.
Sasha clutched Perico’s chest. “Ooh, papi, can I-“
“No, silencio,” Perico said. He squeezed Sasha’s cheeks, checking his mouth. Sasha couldn’t tell if he was more interested in size, or moistness, or maybe he was looking for sores. But again, he nodded like Sasha was sufficient.
Perico stood there, motionless, muscles rigid. He nodded. “Manos a la obra.”
Sasha smiled. He caressed Perico’s bicep, which Perico flexed for him. He was a hard worker and he was naturally thick, but he was no bodybuilder. Something was alluring about his real, everyday muscles, moreso than any of the bodybuilders Sasha had worshiped.
He reached into Perico’s overalls to test the size of his cock — he wanted to “inspect” Perico since Perico had inspected him. Sasha was glad to feel that it was thick and long and uncut. Sasha nodded.
“Good,” Perico said. He sighed and leaned against the wall. He undid the overalls and let his cock fly — he had obviously done this before, Sasha thought.
That was true. Perico let guys jerk him off all the time. Fellow Puerto Ricans could do it for free, as long as no one saw (or at least no females). But he made gringos pay. He didn’t used to, but after letting this one farmer jerk him off for years, Perico discovered he was paying other hombres for their cocks. He had been insulted that he was never offered money.
This gringo — Sasha — was rich though, Perico was certain of that, and he wasn’t gonna walk away without at least getting some extra work out of it.
Almost as soon as his dick touched Sasha’s tongue, Perico snarled and swiped it away. “You have beer, gringo? I like to drink when I let a male jerk me off.” Perico was scrupulously polite to his clients, but when he let a man jerk him off, he didn’t do it nicely — that was demanded by his machismo.
Sasha nodded. “I’ve got beer, papi, whatever you want.” He got up, the tender taste of the tip of Perico’s dick still dancing on his tongue. He loved its funky, spicy taste, and he adored the unwashed musk of Perico’s crotch that wafted out when he undid his fly.
He had a case of beer in the fridge, bottles of a fine microbrew. He wasn’t sure if Perico would like it, but that was all he had. “I hope you’re okay with an IPA!”
When he went back, Perico still stood there, leaning against the wall, his big brown cock hanging limply out of his overalls. He hadn’t lowered them at all. They were unzipped just enough to let his cock hang free.
Sasha played with his limp dick. Perico swayed back and forth to make it slap between his legs. He always did that when he had his cock out because he liked to remind his friends who had the biggest one around. It was normal for him and his friends to drink beer in the backyard behind his house, and when he had to piss, Perico just stood up and whipped it out. It was macho to be unconcerned with letting males see it, since Perico could hold his own if a male tried anything, and, of course, he wanted them all to see how big it was. His friends’ machismo required them to do the same thing, of course.
“You gonna jerk it, esé?” Perico laughed. He was cocky, moreso than normal — being naked around men always did that to him. He always felt threatened and overcompensated at first, but once he started getting his dick jerked, it was like slipping into an old sock that fit right. Getting jerked off by a man was better than a woman, Perico often thought but never said out loud. He thwacked his cock against his palm, trying to make a loud sound, a meaty thwacking that caused a sly smile to appear on Sasha’s face.
He drank from the beer. It felt good to drink beer while you got a nut off, he thought. He’d been drinking all day, but he didn’t tell this gringo that.
“Don’t tease me, esé, get it wet,” Perico said. Sasha was on his knees now, and Perico felt a surge of victory like he had conquered Sasha — it felt good to have a rich man jerking his dick. Perico hooted and lightly slapped Sasha, first with his palm, then with his dick. He watched Sasha’s eyes light up as he begged for more. Perico slapped him harder. He rubbed his limp, sweaty cock over Sasha’s face. When Sasha tried to chase it, Perico pulled it away, teasing him.
“Please?! Lemme taste it…” Sasha begged as femininely as he could manage. He blushed as Perico hit him in the forehead, eyes, nose, even his ears — Perico’s girlfriends never let him do that.
Finally, Perico leaned against the wall again and closed his eyes. He lifted his sweat-stained tee shirt over his head so it wouldn’t get in the way, but he didn’t take it off, he just put it behind his neck.
“Go on, make it wet,” he said with an annoyed grunt as though he hadn’t been the one teasing Sasha.
His dick twitched even before Sasha slipped lips over it. Then as soon as it popped into his mouth and hit his moist tongue, Perico moaned and grunted. His dick firmed up in Sasha’s mouth in seconds.
Perico would never admit this, but he preferred getting jerked off by males. Females were smaller, so had smaller mouths and throats, which was annoying enough, but even worse, they saw a blowjob as a preamble to real sex. They just wanted to suck long enough that they could say they’d done it and move on to pussy-sex. As far as Perico was concerned, it made more sense to just move right to pussy-sex and skip the blowjob — as a rule, he did not eat pussy himself, so that was not an option, he saw that as a blow to his machismo.
He had only ever licked one girl’s pussy. That memory filled his mind now, with both arousal and shame. She had been a beautiful blonde college girl, slumming it with the painter her father had hired. She pushed his head down to her pussy as though she expected him to lick there, and he was so excited that he had done it. That was his first and only time performing oral sex on a woman. He had enjoyed it but also felt humiliated, because she rode his face and used him like a dildo. Maybe that would have been okay if she would be his girlfriend, but she never talked to him again. She had just spent that day rubbing his face in it like a disobedient dog, humping that mustache until it gleamed with moisture.
“Chúpalo todo el camino,” Perico murmured, drilling his dick into Sasha’s throat.
His dick was rock-hard now. Salty precum flowed down his shaft, and it coated Sasha’s tongue. It tasted spicy and warm and it made Sasha want to guzzle down more. As usually happened in these situations, Sasha was so impassioned in the moment that he wanted to spend his life doing exactly this.
He looked up to make eye contact with Perico as he nuzzled his nose deep in Perico’s pubic hair, but Perico had his arms over his chest and his face aimed away, as though he wasn’t experiencing a mind-numbing wave of pleasure that wracked his work-weary body.
Perico was uncut, so when he was hard, his shaft seemed to have lots of extra skin. Sasha loved that. He played with it, stroking Perico’s shaft with one hand. He kept looking up, trying to make eye contact, no longer deep-throating. He teased Perico by daintily licking the vein that ran all the way up and down his dick, but Perico just grunted and shifted his weight the best he could with those overalls still around his ankles.
“C’mon, esé, swallow it, don’t play wit’chit,” Perico murmured. He repeated that a few times, “don’t play wit’chit, don’t play wit’chit, you just playin’ wit’chit it now, esé.” He kept humping, pumping his hips even when Sasha just had a hand on his shaft, so he was humping Sasha’s hand instead of ramming down his throat.
But Sasha liked teasing, and he loved making machos desperately horny, so turned on they couldn’t even control where their cock went. He slurped Perico’s cock and slathered spit up and down the shaft with his tongue. He let the cocktip leak precum into his mouth as he stroked that meaty shaft.
“Shit, c’mon, señor…” He jabbed his dick into Sasha’s face, but still Perico didn’t look directly at him.
That’s because Perico was an activo, and Sasha was a pasivo, or at least in a pasivo’s role. That meant Perico would be on top. His goal as an activo was to stick his dick in Sasha’s moist mouth or tight asshole, he didn’t care. If he did that — which he often did — then he was more of a man: he was an activo. If Sasha were Latino, he’d be called a pasivo. Perico pounded on his chest. He had been raised to believe in the distinction between activo and pasivo. It was very important to his father, and his uncle, and all the older males back in Puerto Rico.
The first time Perico had done it, he had been barely eighteen. He was skinny then, and he had just gotten his first tattoo. His father and uncle had brought him a puto as a belated birthday present — he was just a man in a dress and a wig that kept falling off.
But Perico’s father referred to the man was her.
“Put your dick in her, it will make you a man,” his father had said. The prostitute waited in an alley on his knees. Perico had gone back there, heart pounding. He thought he might just do it enough to get his dick wet, to say he had done it.
The man started swallowing with such force Perico yelped, like he was about to slurp his cock off. “Oh, papa, he is… Oh… I do not think I can do it-“
“Of course you can, you are a real hombre! I know it” His father yelled out from around the corner. “Just do it, your dick will know what to do.”
By then it was too late anyway. That man had swallowed him down better than any female ever did. Perico stood there like a wuss as the man swallowed his cock and sucked out every drop of his nut, all in a matter of a minute or two.
“You took no time, boy! You must take control of it-“
“Wreck his throat, you should make him gag and sputter-“
“Yes, men should struggle to swallow dick, it should not be easy, you made it too easy on him-“
Perico had not taken the criticism well back then. He got defensive and punched his father, leading to a fight that Perico was sure to lose because he was young, small and still had his pants around his ankles.
But he had taken the lesson well, in the long run. He needed to take control of men when they jerked him off. He needed to ram their throat like a pussy.
“Jerk on my huevos, gringo.” His eyes narrowed to slits. The longer he spent with his dick hard and getting jerked off, the more he imitated his father’s brutally aggressive treatment of his pasivos. Sucking on balls, his father had said, was humiliating, something only a true macho could make anyone do. So Perico had to suppress his grin at the sight of Sasha hurrying to obey and suck the sweat off his balls.
Sasha pulled Perico’s heavy ballsac out of his painter’s overalls, which were around his ankles now. There must have been a few drops of undried paint somewhere on those workpants, because the astringent scent of paint hit Sasha’s nostrils. It didn’t slow him down, he still swallowed both of Perico’s balls.
Perico groaned. He puffed up his chest and held Sasha in place as he lifted his balls up and plopped them in his mouth over and over. “They are sour, si, esé, you are good pasivo, suck on them…” He couldn’t believe Sasha actually got deep under his balls, licking all of the funky sweat off his sac, and he even got between Perico’s legs to the dense and kinky black hairs of his taint.
This was good, Perico thought, he kind of wished his friends were in the other room, because they would have spied and laughed and teased him for it, but that was a teasing Perico could accept. They’d say he had over-full huevos, that his cock was so macho he couldn’t resist getting it wet and it must have tasted so good it made the puto jerk his nasty hairy balls.
“Will you ram me in the ass?” Sasha asked, licking his lips to get all that uncut Puerto Rican cock flavor.
He already knew the answer — it was obvious that Perico was preening his machismo: he flexed his muscles even though his eyes were closed and no one else was around. Perico hesitated and bit his lip. He could do anal with a pasivo, he had done it before.
The first time he had done anal with a male was in prison, back in Puerto Rico. A punk there who begged Perico for it for months. Perico only gave in a few days before his release, when a guard said the man had been tested for disease — that was the thin thread of justification Perico needed.
He had thought he would never do it. His father and uncle had said it was fine — again, as long as he was no pasivo, it was fine — Perico had always been reluctant simply because it wasn’t necessary. He could prove his machismo simply by plowing his cock down a man’s throat. No need to do anal.
But that man in prison had been youthful and female-like, slutty, feminine, flirtatious, coy, always showing his big brown ass and begging Perico to ram him in it. Finally Perico had given in, and he was surprised at how good it felt.
It didn’t just feel good because he was in prison and it had been months since he’d felt a tight hole around his cock; it wasn’t just because it made Perico feel like uno hombre macho. It just plain felt good to ramrod a man who didn’t care how hard you plowed or if you accidentally banged his head into the wall or the side of the prison cell toilet, or if you belched during sex or if your balls were sweaty and smelled bad. He had rammed his bottom every which way, for hours, cumming five or six times before he was spent.
That was the memory that flooded Perico’s mind when Sasha turned around and bared his ass. “Please, papi, I need your cock inside me… Ruin my ass, please?! I want it so bad…”
Perico couldn’t resist that, it was rather like what the man had said in prison in Puerto Rico. He couldn’t stop thinking about that. All of a sudden, all of his reluctance was gone.
He let out a growl. He’d later on brag that he had said no and Sasha wouldn’t stop begging so pitifully that Perico had agreed even though he already had a girl who’d asked him to come fuck her that evening.
“Bend over, puto,” Perico said. He groaned, his dick aching, huevos begging for release. “I will ram your ass hard now. You can beg me to go easy, but… do not beg me to go easy. Spread those cheeks. You will love it, yes? You will say you love it?”
“Yes! Si! Yes! Fuck me!” Sasha cried out. He bent over the stool Perico used to reach the upper part of the walls. It was splattered with paint, some of it still wet, which left a seafoam stain on Sasha’s clothes.
He bared his big white ass and showed off his tight hole. Perico let out another growl of desire, this one less forced. He felt that familiar surge of uncontrollable desire just like when that man had seduced him in prison. Perico slipped his dick in, gasping and biting his lip at how easy it went in, just the tip at first.
“Yes, you will say you love it-?”
“I love it!”
“Say my name.”
“Perico!”
Perico grinned. He loved it when women called out his name. He liked the idea of anyone walking by hearing and knowing what he had done.
Sasha called it out again. “Perico!” Sasha’s voice broke. “¡Amo la polla de Perico!” Every time Sasha called out his name, he felt Perico’s dick twitch again in his ass as they both came closer to orgasm.
He gripped Sasha’s hair and held on tight, drilling his dick all the way in. Part of that machismo Perico felt was that he had to make it good for Sasha — Perico felt obligated to ram him hard but to also bring him to orgasm; making sweet love would not be as manly, nor would rutting in his ass like a dog.
Perico had to really grind his dick in, hitting Sasha’s prostate and making him let out a long, low moan. That was how Perico knew he was doing this right. All he had to do was touch the right spot with his cock and Sasha cried out with an intense prostate orgasm. Girls, on the other hand, required a whole series of action and romance, lots of kissing, so much time-wasting, Perico thought, and if anything went wrong or just unusual at any point, she’d back out. Not Sasha. Sasha would take anything.
So Perico pounded into him, with all his might, with more power with each thrust of his hips as he grew to realize that Sasha wouldn’t make him slow down no matter what. He grunted and moaned as though he didn’t care that Sasha was turned on too. He rammed his dick in and out.
Then he wrapped one muscular, paint-splattered arm around Sasha’s neck. He didn’t actually choke him, he just wanted Sasha to know he could. He wanted to feel a clenching burst of fear in him. His biceps flexed, squeezing Sasha’s neck as Perico slammed his dick in once more.
Perico grunted into Sasha’s ear. He moved his hips in little circles on Sasha’s ass, ramming at every corner of his insides.
Hot breath condensed on Sasha’s cheek. Perico’s breath smelled of the fried chicken he had eaten for lunch (which Sasha had bought him, thinking it was for Cergio), and his hairy chest undulated against Sasha’s smooth back. The chokehold was just tight enough that Sasha needed to concentrate to breath, but he didn’t mind that, both because the tension made his orgasm more intense and because it meant he was ensconced in Perico’s work-toned arms.
“Oh god, yes, fill me, Perico!” Sasha forgot all his Spanish, so he yelled in English. A potent prostate orgasm exploded within him, as Perico’s cock twitched and spasmed in his ass. Pleasure shuddered up his spine.
That sight was enough to take Perico to the next level too — he loved seeing a man cum with his cock in his ass, because to Perico, that seemed magical. His manhood had brought so much pain to this weaker man that he had orgasmed from it — that was how Perico saw his pasivos — and that made Perico roar with pride. Just the sight of Sasha twitching, ass clenching as he sprayed cum onto the floor was enough to send Perico into his climax.
Sasha sprayed his wad all over the floor and that stool he had been bent over, just as Perico let out his own crooning howl. The sound of Perico’s orgasm echoed and resonated in Sasha’s ear, making him squirm and beg incomprehensibly.
I need to go to Puerto Rico for certain, Sasha thought as the most powerful orgasm he’d had in years hit him like the donkey-like cock rampaging through his ass.
Cum filled Sasha’s body, great gobs of it seeping into him, trickling into his flesh. It was warm and creamy and copious, and it dripped through his body, some of it slipping out and coating his ass.
“Shit, esé…” Perico said with a hoarse snicker. He kissed Sasha on the cheek, just once, chastely — he’d never done that, but his orgasm had been so intense he felt he needed to show it. He acted on pure instinct and even very nearly kissed Sasha on the lips.
Then he kissed Sasha on the neck, and his hands roamed over his tiny twink body. Perico had no idea he was doing it or why, he just felt compelled to slather Sasha in kisses. Sasha was just as surprised as Perico, and he didn’t react.
It only lasted a moment. “Esé…” Perico said, moaning into Sasha’s ear, as his hand touched Sasha’s cock.
As if a switch had been flicked, Perico let go. That was turning too romantic. He dropped Sasha, who flopped onto the ground where he had just shot his load. Perico stood up.
He pulled his overalls up and tried to look nonchalant, as though he kissed his bottoms all the time. He blushed, ignoring Sasha’s shocked stare.
“You best pay up, esé, or I’ll kick your ass,” Perico said. He paused. “I will do painting too, as I did promise I say would do.” He shook his limp dick between his fingers and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, trying to switch back to his polite-worker mode. “Si, señor? I will do a good job.”
“I’ll pay.” Sasha patted him on the belly. “I’ll pay, don’t worry. Thanks, Perico. You’re a great worker.”
Perico paused and bit his lip. He tucked his cock away in his overalls again, and he put that tattered, dingy tee shirt back on. He looked serious. “Señor, maybe you will hire me more again in the future?”
“Si, Perico,” Sasha said with a satisfied smile. “That is very likely.”