girlfriends – Mansploitation

The Groomsmen

Avery meets a trio of hunky groomsmen at a Jewish wedding, and when he offers to pay for their party at a strip club, they agree to let him take a taste of their alpha male meat! Can this wedding crasher service all three groomsmen?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

When Avery first crashed the wedding at Temple Mann Asaf, he had no intention of doing anything more than eating some free shrimp and getting drunk off an open bar. But it turned out to be a dry wedding — apparently the bride had a nasty history of alcoholism — and there weren’t even any shrimp because this was a Jewish wedding. The disappointments just kept on coming.
The groom was a college frat bro-turned-car salesman with a square jaw like a Roman nobleman, dark hair and a body that could barely be contained by his tuxedo. Avery was a keen appreciator of the male form, and Samuel Feinman had a fantastic one. So did the groomsmen. Avery enjoyed a man who could rock a tux and yarmulke.
Nobody had to tell Avery that the groomsmen were the groom’s frat brothers and probably his teammates too, most likely teammates in some silly frat bro sport like quidditch or ultimate frisbee. They looked and acted like frat boys. They laughed loudly and carried on throughout the reception, they ate like pigs, argued incessantly and called each other “bro” over and over. They were disgusting, rude and exuded masculinity, and Avery couldn’t look away.
Avery still wasn’t sure what to do or how to get close to them without revealing that he was a wedding crasher. But he lightbulbed up when he went to the bathroom — the main men’s room was full, but he found a different one at the end of the back hall — and saw one of the groomsmen there, having just finished up his piss.
“Hey,” Avery said. “You’re the best man, right?”
“Yeah, bro,” he said. He nodded back at Avery. “I’m Charlie Chodorow. Chuckles to my friends.”
“Well, Chuckles… Are you taking the guys out to a strip club later?”
“What?”
“Is that not a tradition around here? Where I’m from, the best man has to take the groomsmen to a strip club after the reception. The groom goes on the honeymoon, and the groomsmen get blowjobs from cokeheads, or whatever,” Avery said with a casual grin.
“Oh, no, Jews don’t do that. We’re not a cool enough religion to get blowjobs from strippers.”
“You sure? It’s a baller move.”
“Bro, I don’t got enough money for that. I could barely afford to go to the strip club by myself,” he said. He chuckled and blushed a little. “I’m not the rich kind of Jew. I’m a poor mofo, bro.”
“I could pay.”
“What? You’d pay? Who are you anyway?”
“My name is Avery. I’m a friend of Samuel’s from way back. I’d want something in return, of course…” Avery said. “I’d like to jack off you and your groomsmen buddies. What do you think? I’ll give you five hundred dollars.”
“Hell yeah.” He paused like he hadn’t meant to agree so readily. “I mean… Whatever, maybe. Like six hundred dollars-“
“Nope, five hundred.”
“Man! Come on, I…”
“You agreed to five hundred, sorry. Learn to negotiate,” Avery said. “You really are bad at being Jewish.” He dropped to his knees and massaged Chuckles’s cock through his slacks.
Chuckles blushed hard and rolled his eyes. “I know,” he said. His cheeks turned pinkish like a baby’s butt.
“You ever let a man jack you off before?”
He sighed. “Not sober. Not deliberately. My bros tricked me once…” He winced as Avery unzipped his slacks and pulled his long, floppy dick out through the fly. Chuckles blushed intensely. “Damn, bro, you are like a vacuum cleaner for cock.” His voice broke as his meat disappeared into Avery’s mouth.
Almost immediately it stiffened and stuck up straight in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled and moaned, savoring the clean flavor and salty taste of that rock-hard slab of meat. A little spit dripped off Avery’s lips and into the fabric of Chuckles’s slacks.
“Hey. Uh-huh.” Chuckles called one of the other groomsmen. “Hey, you two wanna go to the strip club? I dunno, I guess the Pink Fold. Ew, no way, Lipsweet is nasty! That chick had a c-section scar, bro! And the stripper with the hairy legs!” He laughed so hard his cock spasmed in Avery’s mouth. Chuckles ran his fingers through his hair. “So, uh… I can’t afford it and I know you can’t either. But there’s this guy… Uh… You remember Raython? Yeah. You remember how he made money?” Chuckles groaned and chuckled. “No, not that way. I mean the way that’s legal — or well, less illegal than that. Yeah, that’s it. Shut up, bro. It isn’t like that.”
Avery moved down to Chuckles’s balls. He pulled that entire sac out of Chuckles’s slacks and slurped all the sweat up. He let both balls fill up his mouth and he gurgled on them loudly, making Chuckles grunt, shake and blush as he tried to continue his conversation.
“Yeah. He slurpin’ on my balls right now, yo! I am not fuckin’ with you, bro. You wanna hear?” He put the phone down near his balls. Avery made some especially loud ball-slurping sounds. He heard a masculine voice laughing on the other end.
Chuckles laughed too. “See? Don’t tell me you don’t know what teabagging sounds like. What?” He looked at Avery. “Hey, does the Torah forbid this on Shavuot?”
Avery shrugged. “You’re the Jew.”
“We’ve already established I’m bad at being Jewish, you don’t need to rub it in. Nobody ever told me anything about abstaining from busting a nut on Shavuot.” He spoke back into his phone again. “Look, it’s not a big deal. He’s gonna jack us off, and he’ll pay five hundred bucks. We could have a good time at the Pink Fold for that. At the Pink Fold, five hundred dollars makes us kings. We could buy the damn club and make her shave her legs.” He paused. “Yeah, I volunteered your cock, and Hopper’s too. It’s too late, I already agreed on your behalf. If you back out now, the po-po’s gonna come and make you get you do it. Uh-huh. Okay.” Chuckles looked down at Avery. “Hey, we’re gonna tell Hopper he has to put it in your ass for the five hunnies, okay? You do that, right?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Chuckles spoke into the phone again. “He said that’s fine. I know, hilarious, bro.” He smiled at Avery. “Just get out here, to the bathroom in the back hall.” He hung up the phone as a bolt of pleasure shot up his spine, making him moan again. He leaned against the wall.
“Hey, we’re gonna…” Chuckles began to speak but his voice trailed off as he lost track of his words. He looked down at his veiny cock throbbing in Avery’s mouth. He cleared his throat. “That tall groomsman is Hopper — not who I was just talking to, he’s Pud — Hopper is the one who’ll stick you in the ass. He, uh… He jumped over this hedge once, that’s where he got the name. Ah shit, fuck…” He closed his eyes and raised his arms to lean on the sink for support. His knees buckled and his tie shook, dangling in front of his barrel chest.
His phone rang. It was so surprising it made Chuckles’s dick twitch. He sighed and looked at the phone. It was Hopper, and he swore.
“What?” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Hopper. Too bad. You wanna go to the strip club right? You always wanna go — I don’t think “leftover money” is a thing, but fine, you can have it. I am getting lap dances though, asshole. Don’t even try — nope! No! No way, Hopper! You are not wasting five hundred dollars buying drinks for strippers, bro!” He paused and bristled. “Man, shut up, I can’t stay hard listenin’ to your voice. He swallows dick good, and he got a nice ass. You’ll like it.” He made a flapping “talking too much” motion with his hand.
Avery’s hands roamed up Chuckles’s body. He loved men in suits, and he loved feeling Chuckles’s muscles beneath the suit fabric. His muscles were tense and tight, both because he was nervous about getting jacked off by a man and because he was excited about busting a nut.
“He’s hotter than that Asian chick. Don’t even give me that, bro, you licked her asshole and she looked like Jackie Chan, but less hot. You said it tasted like those baby ears of corn! Don’t even say that, bro, don’t even- Uh-huh.” Chuckles laughed so hard his face turned red. “C’mon, bro, you’ll smash anything in the ass. That’s why I don’t let you in a room alone with my dog.” He laughed so hard his face turned red. His whole body buckled. He gasped, the intensity of his laughter and the anxiety of his conversation making it hard for him to concentrate on remaining upright and holding the phone.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. Hey, bro! Chuckles!
Chuckles hurriedly got off the phone with Hopper and opened the door a crack. He took great pains to sidle over there to the door slowly so that Avery didn’t have to stop working on his cock. Spit ran down the shaft as Avery slurped up the precum sliding out.
“Hey, Pud,” Chuckles said.
The third groomsman was Asher Idelson, or “Pud” to his Zeta Tau Sigma friends. He tried to come into the bathroom, but Chuckles held the door open just a crack. Chuckles’s muscles strained beneath his suit.
“Wait up, out there,” Chuckles said, breathless, distracted as his veins throbbed in Avery’s mouth. He grunted. “I’m gonna nut in a minute.”
“So we can’t see it? I wanna see this dude-“
“Why? He’s just a dude. There’s nothing to look at.”
“I wanna see the money. He could cheat us.”
“You’re too stupid to count it anyway, what do you know?” Chuckles said with a grin. His cock throbbed mightily, and precum flowed down Avery’s throat. Avery was surprised that Chuckles hadn’t cum yet — he had felt like he was on the verge right before the knock on the door. The distraction, Avery thought, seemed to inhibit him. That was fine with Avery, who would have gladly jacked him off all night long.
“Bro, what’s up? Why don’t you want me in there?”
“We’re taking turns,” Chuckles said.
“What? I’m not gonna push in before you’re done, bro, just lemme in.”
“Why you wanna watch me so bad? Huh? You tryin’ to sneak a peek at my cock, bro?” Chuckles’s voice seemed plaintive, almost like he was about to cry. It was enough to make Avery look up at him.
But it wasn’t that — it was an orgasm. Chuckles nutted as he continued to argue with Pud, who pushed on the door and grabbed for Chuckles’s muscled shoulder through the doorway. Chuckles’s whole body shook and he grunted.
“Ew, bro! Are you blowin’ your wad right now?! Holy shit, bro!” Pud screamed on the other side of the door. His hands were on Chuckles’s shoulder, so Pud must have been able to sense the orgasm in the rippling of Chuckles’s muscles. “He’s all down your zakhrut, dude.”
Chuckles’s face turned bright red — that was normal for him when he orgasmed, not a function of his embarrassment — and he bucked. He grabbed Avery’s head and rammed his dick all the way down Avery’s throat.
He groaned as he sprayed his massive wad down Avery’s gullet. It was hot and thick and creamy, and it tasted so salty it made Avery moan. He guzzled down every drop, even as he choked and sputtered on Chuckles’s massive cock.
“Aw, fuck, bro…”
With both of Chuckles’s hands on Avery’s head, he was no longer keeping the door shut. Pud came charging in — he pushed his way through as though he thought he’d have to shove Chuckles out of the way. He nearly fell over when there was no barrier.
Chuckles sighed. “Damn…”
“Oh shit, bro! You seriously just nutted! Holy shit, bro!” Pud said. He was tall and short-haired, with an angular nose and a lean, lanky body. He was built like a basketball player, Avery thought, who was getting excited already even before he had finished swallowing Chuckles’s nut.
It was clear Chuckles didn’t want to be seen by his buddy, but he hid his discomfort well now that he didn’t have a choice. He cleared his throat. He pulled his cock out and flopped it over Avery’s face.
“Damn, so I gotta do this too?” Pud asked, concealing his eyes so he didn’t have to see his bro’s cock.
Chuckles chuckled. “Yep. He’s paying for the strip club.”
Pud was quiet for a long time. “We always told Raython that it was-“
“Shut up, bro.”
“I’m just sayin’, you were the worst about that. You called Raython a rentboy cuz that dude was paying his tuition-“
“There’s a big difference in letting a dude pay for one nut and letting one pay your entire tuition,” Chuckles said.
Pud was quiet for a long time. “Not really…” Then he burst into a torrent of ticklish laughter as Avery kissed his cock through the fabric of his black slacks. When he didn’t complain, Avery pulled his dick out and jacked on the tip.
It was just as big as Chuckles’s, maybe bigger — skinny guys usually had big dicks, so Avery wasn’t surprised. Pud grabbed ahold of Avery’s head and guided it up and down on his dick, which twitched and firmed up in Avery’s mouth.
“Okay, lemme outta here…” Chuckles muttered.
Pud slammed the door shut before Chuckles could leave. They both made eye contact and laughed. Chuckles tried to pull Pud away, but Pud fought back.
“Bro, c’mon on!”
“Stay here, bro!”
“Get outta the way!”
“Don’t you wanna watch?”
“No, man! Let go, bro!” Chuckles had been red-faced from his orgasm, but as a fight very nearly broke out yet again, he turned even redder. He clawed at Pud’s suited shoulders, but Pud stood in front of the door, blocking his way. Pud leered as Chuckles scrambled to get out of the bathroom.
His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth. It was hard and throbbing, longer than Chuckles’s, though not quite as thick. That was fine with Avery, since it made it easier for him to swallow. He giggled as he took in every inch.
“Get off me!”
“Man, quit it!”
They probably would have started actually fighting by now except that Avery was in the way. Chuckles couldn’t get a good punch in — or rather, he might have been able to, but he had an instinctual need to avoid getting anywhere near his Zeta Tau Sigma brother’s cock, so he had to stretch to reach Pud or the door at all. Pud meanwhile just pushed and shoved Chuckles away, too distracted by his dick to do anything else.
“Hey, boys, quit fighting,” Avery said when the jostling got too distracting. “Shut up. I’ll give you both another hundred dollars if you kiss right now.”
“No way!”
“Nope!”
But Avery didn’t care. He assumed they’d say no anyway, he just wanted to distract them from the fight. Pud resumed grabbing ahold of Avery’s head and plowing down his throat.
“You had to think about it, bro,” Pud said.
“No I didn’t, I was just waiting for you to say no first. I thought you were gonna say yes.”
“No way! I-” Pud stopped talking then because his cock twitched in Avery’s throat. He blushed and moaned. His voice broke.
“Ah shit, you’re nutting. You’re nutting.”
“Shut up, bro, I can’t do it if you’re talking. Shut up-“
“I’m taking both hundred bucks!” Chuckles blurted out. Then he pecked Pud right on the lips, laughing so hard his face turned red as Pud sputtered and spat.
It felt like an almost violent, painful orgasm, since it was interrupted by Chuckles’s kiss — which was a pitiful kiss: dry, chaste and lasting about an eighth of a second — and Pud roared in a combination of anger, disgust, shock and arousal. The sounds coming out of both groomsmen filled the air and echoed in the tiny bathroom. Cum sprayed down Avery’s throat, the taste making him moan and groan, begging for more. He choked too, since Pud kept his cock all the way into Avery’s gullet, moaning and red-faced as he spurted his wad.
Finally he was done. He pulled out and watched his spit-dripping cock plop out of Avery’s mouth, with a wide-eyed, horrified stare like he was watching an alien monster give birth. He covered his eyes when it was over.
“Shut up, bro,” Pud said. He blushed, while Chuckles laughed so hard he was doubled over. Pud smirked. Cum dripped over Avery’s face and down his chin. “You kissed a dude, bro. That was so nasty.”
“Boys, boys, boys, relax,” Avery said. He licked off the cum that had collected on his face. “What happened to that third groomsman? Hopper?”
“I’ll call him,” Chuckles said. He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey. Where are you? In the back hall, remember? What the fuck-? No, that was not a joke, man. You gotta do it. You shoulda seen it, Pud was making out with a man. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”
“He did it!” Pud shouted. “Don’t listen to him, Hopper! It was him!”
“Shut up. No, no that wasn’t nothing. Come on, bro. You gotta come stick it in this dude. Okay. Yeah. See ya.” He hung up. “He said he’d do it.”
“What? Just like that? He was saying hell no a minute ago.”
“He found out Sarah didn’t come to the wedding.”
Pud threw his hands in the air. “That boy is retarded for that girl. She doesn’t like him. She’ll never like him.”
“I know.”
“Did he really think she was gonna throw herself at him because he put on a suit?”
“Which he looks like an idiot in,” Chuckles said. “He sounded pissed.” He looked down at Avery. “Don’t worry ’bout Hopper, okay? He won’t hurt you. He looks ugly as shit, especially when he’s angry, but he won’t hurt you.”
Avery wrinkled his eyebrows. He didn’t think Hopper looked ugly, though he wasn’t surprised to hear someone else say that. Hopper was short and squat, with a rather flat face. He was built like a prison rapist, Avery had thought during the ceremony, and he looked like he never wore a suit. His face had some acne-scarring, which was unfortunate.
All told, he was not ugly. A lot of women would say he was, or that he was at least off-putting and scary. But Avery didn’t mind a man with a little roughness around the edges, as long as he could still rock a suit. Hopper looked like he was one of those guys who went straight from acne-ridden-teenager to hulking-brutish-man without a charming-handsome-college-boy phase.
Hopper virtually ripped the door off its hinges when he stormed in. He scowled and glowered at his friends in the ill-fitting suit — he was the only one of the three who appeared to not know how to wear a suit. Hopper did not look at Avery at all, as though he hadn’t even noticed him.
“Nobody told me Gerald was gonna be here,” Hopper said with a growl. “I was about to lay that fucker out.”
The other two both sighed. “Relax, Hopper.”
“Yeah, chill out, he’s different now. He’s just as annoying, but in a different way, and he’s less punchable.”
“Just cornhole this dude and we can go to the strip club.”
“I’m getting laid,” Hopper said with a growl. “If we go to the strip club, I am getting some pussy.”
“Bro, that’ll take the entire five hundred dollars-“
“Seven hundred,” Avery said. He dove his face into Hopper’s crotch and inhaled deeply of his musky scent. He smelled unclean. He unzipped his slacks and pulled his dick out. Hopper remained so angry he barely seemed to notice — though he did stop pacing, so he must have been aware.
“Yeah, seven hundred.”
“What? I thought it was five,” Hopper said, absent-minded now that he saw his cock disappearing into Avery’s throat.
“He paid us a hundred bucks each to kiss,” Chuckles said.
“I ain’t kiss him,” Pud added. “Chuckles kissed me. It was gross.”
“I didn’t even use tongue- Damn, Hopper,” Chuckles said. Hopper’s dick was hard already, and as soon as it was, he reached over to Avery’s ass to smack it. He bared Avery’s cheeks and got ready to plow into him. Chuckles chuckled nervously. “You are quick, Hopper. You goin’ straight for the ass, huh?”
“That’s what I’m getting paid for, right?” Hopper said with a growl. “Hold on, so you’re paying two hundred dollars for a kiss?”
“No!” Avery cried out. His voice broke as Hopper’s dick rammed unceremoniously into him — that was another reason he must have trouble with the women, Avery thought, he was crude and graceless like a caveman. He had gone straight to anal without even making eye contact with Avery. Avery loved it, but women didn’t. Avery submitted to Hopper’s powerful pounding and forced himself to concentrate to say anything at all. “Uh… That was just a one-time thing. I’m not paying again for a dry little peck on the lips.”
As he slid his cock into Avery’s ass, Hopper snorted. He grabbed Chuckles by the chin and planted his lips right on Chuckles’s. This time, he kissed hard, almost violently, and he slammed his tongue into Chuckles’s mouth. It was not exactly a passionate kiss, but it was much more intense than the earlier one. Pud clapped and laughed.
Hopper pulled away. He smacked one of Avery’s asscheeks. “Pay up, weirdo.”
“Okay, fine,” Avery said breathlessly, his ass stretching to accommodate Hopper’s massive meat. “That was hot.”
Chuckles coughed and blushed, wiping Hopper’s spit off his face. He took a few steps away to be sure he wasn’t within Hopper’s range if he did the same thing again. Chuckles leaned against the wall as though too shocked to support himself. His muscles rippled beneath his suit.
Hopper snorted and sniffled like a rampaging bull as it trampled a bullfighter. The room filled with the smell of his sweat, which made Avery’s dick throb in his fingers. Hopper removed his suit jacket and tossed it on the grimy bathroom floor. That revealed his sweat-soaked armpits, which in turn made Chuckles and Pud laugh.
“Damn, Hopper, calm down.”
“You’re sweatin’ like a fat girl, bro,” Pud said.
“You promised you’d use deodorant from now on-“
“I don’t live with you anymore.”
“That was a long-term agreement. It was not specific to being roommates,” Pud said with a groan.
“You two set this up, huh? I’m just doin’ what you said. I am fucking that blonde chick tonight, and you two are paying for it,” Hopper said with a snarl. He smacked Avery’s ass. “This is how you wanted to pay for it, don’t get pissy at me about it.”
Pud and Chuckles exchanged nervous glances. But they just shrugged and agreed. Avery had a feeling that, when they got to the strip club, they would refuse to pay for Hopper’s prostitute. Avery also felt sorry for Hopper, who would surely be unable to land a stripper (or most any woman) without paying for her.
But Avery didn’t mind Hopper being crude and mean to him. He loved it. He enjoyed the feeling of Hopper slamming into his asscheeks, his brutish cock tearing Avery up inside. Every time his prostate twitched, Avery moaned and squirmed on the floor.
Finally he shot his own load onto the ground. None of the groomsmen seemed to notice. Chuckles and Pud watched with baited breath — Avery got the impression that they both wanted to leave but felt an obligation to stay and protect Avery in case Hopper got violent — and shared knowing glances. Avery moaned so loud it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and made Chuckles giggle like a blushing schoolboy.
At last Hopper was done. He grabbed Avery by the throat, not squeezing him but lifting his head up forcefully. A massive wad of cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, coating his insides and making him moan blissfully. He had never felt anything quite so potent, as though he could taste every inch of Hopper’s macho muscles and feel every inch of his body stimulating Avery’s prostate.
A big, thick wad sloshed around inside Avery, getting bigger with every thrust of Hopper’s cock. He slammed his dick in over and over and made a loud, meaty slapping sound each time his balls slapped against Avery’s ass.
“Damn…”
Pud laughed, his face turned red. “That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. I’m gonna have nightmares.”
“Yeah, that was terrible,” Chuckles said. “I thought it was bad watching your nasty-ass fuck a fat chick.”
Hopper growled and mumbled. “I don’t fuck fat chicks.”
The other two laughed knowingly, but they didn’t seem to want to anger Hopper by contradicting him. They just shrugged.
Hopper took a deep breath and shook his body like a dog drying off after a rainstorm. The movement reawakened the pain and the bliss in Avery’s ass, making him moan once again. That seemed to remind Hopper that he was touching a man. He pushed Avery away and jumped to his feet.
“Damn,” Hopper said, shaking his head. He groaned as he watched a final few drops of cum leak out of his cocktip.
Avery turned around, grabbed some toilet paper, and wiped Hopper’s dick off. He always loved servicing alpha males, and as far he was concerned, cleaning up his man when he was done was an essential part of the process. Hopper watched, wrinkling his nose like he would rather remain dirty.
“Alright, you feel better, Harold?” Chuckles asked, clasping Hopper on the shoulder.
“You best pay up,” Hopper said to Avery. His nostrils flared. “You owe nine hundred dollars.”
Avery nodded. He had a thousand dollars in his wallet. He had a feeling Hopper was going to take the entire wallet when he saw the money, so Avery took all ten hundred dollar bills out. “Here’s a grand. Have a good time at the strip club, boys.”
“Ah shit, okay!”
“A bonus! You must be good at that, Hopper.”
Hopped sniffled. “We can get that blonde stripper to go out with us-“
“Hopper, no.” They opened the door and walked out, rejoining the reception. They ignored Avery as though they forgot he existed. He was fine with that. He enjoyed watching their plump asses shake in the suit-pants.
“Yeah, we’re not making friends with a stripper, Hopper. You’re never going to get one to fall in love with you. They only like you when you have money. That’s what makes them strippers.”
“You ain’t see how she was looking at me last time, bro,” Hopper said. “She liked me.” That was the last of their words that Avery could hear, though he could tell from the tone of their conversation that Pud and Chuckles were increasingly annoyed with Hopper’s reluctance to believe them. For all his grizzled scruff, Hopper seemed delightfully naive, or maybe simply optimistic.
Avery stayed there in the bathroom, naked and basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. He couldn’t believe his luck. Of all the weddings to crash, he got the one featuring three alpha groomsmen in yarmulkes with a willingness to do whatever it took to make a few dollars.
Avery couldn’t wait to get some more cash out and continue his hunt for men in suits to jack off. He wondered if the groom had any more frat brothers at the wedding.

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.

Sharing a Bed With a Baseball Jock

Avery drives the team bus when he gets a chance to share a bed with a hunky basketball jock. Trent Wyatt’s girlfriend won’t let him go near another woman, but she won’t mind him getting his needs met another way…

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“My woman said she gonna cut my nuts off if I talk to another female,” Trent Wyatt said in a press conference. That caused a huge controversy that attracted Avery’s attention. Unlike everyone in the media, Avery was not worried because he said “nuts” nor because he used the term “my woman” nor because he used the word “female” in a dismissive manner nor because he accused his girlfriend of threatening assault. That was all silly nitpicking from Avery’s point-of-view.
It seemed the media was very thin-skinned these days.
Avery was interested because Trent Wyatt had specified — and repeated a few times in interviews since — that his girlfriend had warned him off other “females”. She hadn’t said anything about males.
That gave Avery an idea. He managed to pull a few favors within the GHU athletic department, which got Avery a gig driving the team bus for a game between the GHU Titans and Montana State. It was far enough away that they would have to spend a night in a hotel room.
Trent Wyatt was handsome like a movie star, and Avery had a plan to get a swing on his tasty basketball-jock meat. Trent was tall and lean, ropy-muscled with long legs and a sculpted face with dimples and cheekbones and all that jazz. He had only one tattoo — that was another thing that made him unusual in the American College Basketball Association — but it was a colorful doozy, a full-arm sleeve depicting the whole of US African American history, ending in the ornately decorated face of his grandmother near his wrist.
There had been so many reports on that goddamn tattoo last year. Avery had gotten sick of them. He watched a lot of them because Trent Wyatt was well-sculpted, and they showed tons of shirtless pictures of him to display the tattoo — Avery was ninety-percent sure that the reason Trent tried so hard to get the media to pay attention to the tattoo was to show off his chest.
And Avery had wanted him the entire time. He never even recalled what Trent said about the stuff on the tattoo because Avery was mesmerized by those dimples and those deep, dark eyes.
So he was giddy when the Titans climbed onto the team bus. Avery smiled politely but didn’t say much. The players mostly ignored him. They were huge — basketball players always seemed skinny on average to Avery, because they were never barrel-chested or bulky, but when he saw them in person, he could see how heavily stacked most of them really were. Their muscles were compact, pulled taut, so tight it almost looked painful, Avery thought, Trent especially. He looked like a three-hundred pound bodybuilder crammed into a hundred-eighty-pound body.
“Alright, gentlemen, I gotta read the required safety standards,” Avery said when they were all settled in. “Is anyone here a child under eighty pounds?”
“Yeah, me,” said Jashwan Mitchell. “I’m only seventy-four pounds.”
“Then you have to sit either in a child-seat or on my lap,” Avery said. “I choose my lap.”
They all laughed at Jashwan, who laughed too, a little too aggressively, like he wanted everyone to know it could only be a joke, that he’d never actually sit on Avery’s lap. Avery went through the rest of the required safety standards, then he got behind the wheel and set off. Avery got his caffeine pills out and kept them on the dashboard to take when he got tired, and he’d avoided caffeine for the last week to be sure it had a strong effect on him. He’d be driving until midnight. He could probably drive longer, but he wasn’t allowed to, and they should arrive at the hotel but midnight. Not just any hotel either, Avery planned this trip to be sure they stopped at the hotel whose setup was conducive to his plans.
Avery expected lots of rowdy behavior on the bus. They were athletes after all, and he had gone on the football team’s bus once back in high school. The guys then had been loud and rambunctious, and the bus driver had had to pull over twice to tell them to settle down. He was expecting horseplay, off-color jokes, crude gestures aimed at other drivers on the road and aggressive fight songs.
But the ride didn’t turn out like that at all. Maybe basketball and football players behaved differently on bus rides. The loudest they got was a debate over keto versus paleo diets. There was some snickering that Avery was pretty sure came from ogling over pictures on someone’s phone — presumably someone’s girlfriend in a bikini — but other than that, it was very quiet.
“Hey, man, is there gonna be a bar or somethin’ at this place?” Jashwan Mitchell asked when they got close to the night’s hotel.
“A bar at the hotel, yeah, I think so,” Avery said. He had actually chosen this hotel precisely because it had a nice bar and because the bar’s regular patrons included a number of women of loose repute. The basketball players were sure to get laid.
But he let the players discover that on their own. When they pulled in at the hotel, Avery parked and let them all out. He waited in the bus for a few minutes. The players all hurried into their rooms.
Avery came out when he saw the players beginning to head out to the bar. Few of them drank, but there were women galore in the bar, and that was what they were interested in. They all had a game tomorrow, that was why nobody wanted to get drunk. Once he had parked the bus and made sure all the players were checked in, Avery went to the main desk at the hotel to get his own room key.
“I’m sorry sir, there are no vacancies,” the clerk said.
“Are you sure? I was told there was always a room available for the bus driver.” Avery kept arguing with the clerk as he waited for Trent Wyatt to come out of his room. Finally it happened. He was hesitant, smoothing his fine, ironed shirt and fiddling with the gold chain around his neck.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”
“So I have to sleep on the bus?!” Avery threw his hands in the air. He hoped this was coming out believable — Avery in fact knew he needed to call ahead to register a room. Avery used to be a clerk in a motel, he knew exactly how this worked.
But he also knew that, if he couldn’t get a room of his own, he’d end up sharing a room and hopefully a bed with one of the players. He had exactly which player in mind.
“Hey, man, you need a room?” Trent said when he saw the fracas at the front desk.
Avery turned to face him and nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed to reserve a room. That’s not how most hotels around here work.”
The clerk was about to correct him, but Avery walked away with Trent before he could open his mouth. Avery patted Trent on the back, which was firm like a barrel of packed sand. Trent had taken a shower, and his skin exuded warmth still, a few beads of moisture still dotting his nape. His hair remained slightly moist, glistening in the brilliant light of the hotel lobby.
“That sucks, man…” Trent’s voice trailed off. There was an intense pressure in the air. It was obvious Trent felt he should invite Avery to stay in his room, but he wasn’t going to do that. Avery wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected it to happen quite like this. He just wanted to put the thought in Trent’s head. He’d let it bounce around in Trent’s mind for awhile.
“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just sleep in the bus, it’s comfortable enough,” Avery said. “I can rough it.”
“Huh, yeah.” Trent chuckled dryly.
“Thanks, sugar,” Avery said. He patted Trent on the six-packed belly. “Are you going to the bar? Don’t let those women lead you astray — you got a girlfriend at home, right? Stay with her, man. Do what she says, y’know…”
“Yeah…” Trent glanced at the bar, which was crowded and filled with hollering. Word had spread that most of an ABA team was hanging out in this bar, so it had filled up with skanks and hangers-on. One of those skanks was sucking off Jashwan Mitchell right when Trent walked in and nearly walked into his friend’s cock.
Avery watched. He wasn’t a voyeur, but he did enjoy seeing Jashwan’s veiny cock throb in the trashy woman’s mouth, and he enjoyed the bartender’s pained, desperate attempts to get them to stop without calling the police. It all happened too fast for the cops to get involved though. The whole blowjob took maybe three minutes, and then the slut ran off with a mouthful of basketball star cream.
That was hot. Avery licked his lips. He preferred to watch men fuck than to participate, and he’d found driving sports teams really gave him opportunities to watch.
Avery went out to the bus to wait. He thought he had about an eighty percent chance of getting Trent tonight. Avery had a sixth sense about that kind of thing. He spent the time looking on his phone to verify that quote — Trent had definitely specified that he wasn’t allowed to be with “females”, and Avery had definitely reminded him that he was not a female.
He googled Trent on some forums he knew of, to see if there were any rumors about Trent’s sexual history. He may have gotten sucked off by a stripper in Boise, Idaho — a woman claimed as much in a basketball forum, just days before Trent started specifying to reporters that he never got frisky on the road. Avery felt sure that was what had prompted Trent’s girlfriend to make him promise to stop. The stripper had probably contacted her.
That had only been six months ago. If he was really trying to be faithful now, Avery thought, he was probably desperately horny. He hadn’t been back to his house, and his girlfriend, in almost a month, after all. Avery didn’t think it was fair for women to expect their men to be faithful away from home, but Avery did enjoy it — it was one of the things that made it so easy for Avery to find the alpha males he enjoyed.
Back in the hotel, Trent Wyatt hadn’t stopped thinking about Avery.
He’d never messed around with a male. Back in the neighborhood Trent grew up in, it was considered acceptable, more or less, for men to mess around on the downlow. But Trent had never done so. Mainly that was for guys who couldn’t get laid by females. There was a flamboyant man in his neighborhood who would jerk off any eighteen-year-old if he wasn’t fat or addicted to drugs. Trent always had a bevy of females after him, so he would never do anything like that. He’d teased all the guys who did. He ignored it when they said that males throated dick better than any female. He didn’t believe it.
But the older he got, the more he could believe it. He still hadn’t done it. Somehow sex had gotten more complicated, even though he was married and an international sex symbol. His girlfriend rarely wanted to have sex anymore, and she didn’t even suck his dick except on his birthday.
That flamboyant bus driver was outside, waiting. He hadn’t explicitly said he would jack off Trent’s dick.
But Trent had a feeling it would happen if he went out there. He could get sucked off by one of these chicks too, no doubt. But she would likely want his phone number, she’d tell TMZ he was an asshole, she’d brag to her gal-pals, and his girlfriend would eventually find out. Plus, perhaps most importantly, Trent thought he’d be unable to avoid looking guilty if he went back to his girlfriend after fucking with another woman.
You can always bust a nut in a sissy. Feels just like a woman cuz they got the right equipment. They know how it all works.
That was what some of the older guys in Trent’s neighborhood said. Trent had thought it was a joke. They didn’t really believe it, right?
But now that Trent had a woman, he couldn’t help but believe it. It made sense, didn’t it? It wasn’t like Trent would ever leave his girlfriend to jack off with some white man. And he wasn’t even going to do something with Avery that he would do with his girlfriend — she rarely sucked his dick and never did anal.
Trent found himself walking out there without making the decision to go through with it. But he second-guessed himself when the cool night air hit his face. He scratched his balls through his jeans and discovered his dick was so hard it hurt. The women in the bar were so easy, and Trent’s girlfriend was so far away.
I gotta do something. Trent winced. He had an idea that would make it seem like less of a big deal, he thought, plus it’d make him look like a nice guy.
He went out to the bus and told the bus driver he could share his room. “I’m goin’ to sleep now, but you can come with me if you want,” Trent said. “We gonna have to share the bed.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Avery said, squealing and hugging Trent’s chest. Avery could see the telltale bulge of his hardon, but he didn’t bring it up. He just followed Trent to the hotel room. “I thought my back was going to get sore from sleeping in there.”
“Uh-huh.” Trent bit his lip. He remained tense in the hotel room as he took off his shirt. He liked it when anyone, even men, complimented his chest and his six-pack abs. Avery giggled at the sight.
“Damn, you must work out all the time.”
“Yeah. Pretty much,” Trent said. He posed. He flexed his biceps so Avery could squeeze them, and he even made his pecs bounce. He felt like a stripper. He was awkward at first, but when Avery’s infectious smile caught on, Trent smiled proudly and relaxed.
“Do you normally watch TV to go to sleep?” Avery asked as they settled in.
“Sometimes. My girlfriend don’t like it though.”
“Well she’s not here, so let’s do something she wouldn’t let you do normally,” Avery said. He added with a knowing wink, “You might prefer to have something to look at. You can always turn it off later.” He put the remote on the nightstand on Trent’s side of the bed.
It was softcore porn. Avery had put it on a video of a woman fingering herself, a pretty blonde with tits like sandcastles. Trent’s eyes were drawn to her. Avery winked at Trent, whose half-hard dick twitched in his boxers, but it didn’t seem Trent noticed. The sound was almost off, so all Trent could hear was the woman’s feminine moaning.
Only when the camera moved away from that woman and her tits that Trent noticed Avery watching him. Trent bristled, his muscles all flexing, though he pretended not to notice.
He’s definitely planning on tastin’ my dick… Trent gulped nervously. He couldn’t wait. His dick still throbbed mightily in his boxers.
Avery crawled under the covers and patted the mattress for Trent to join him. Trent grimaced and did so. That sexy babe on TV was hard to tear his eyes away from.
“Hmm… Just relax,” Avery said. “I bet that tonight, you’re going to sleep better than you have in a long time.” He whispered once Trent had settled under the covers, and Avery scooted closer to him. “Do you think so? Is there anything I can do to make you fall asleep better?”
“Uh, well…”
“Shush, you don’t have to say anything,” Avery said. He moved so close his breath condensed on Trent’s ear, and Avery’s hand crept over Trent’s chest. “I’ll just slip under the covers and you can put my hand and my mouth and… other parts… wherever you want them to be.”
Trent sucked in his breath. His dick was hard now, that woman onscreen drawing him in. Avery’s soft fingers caressed Trent’s flat belly. His touch made Trent’s muscles ripple and his pecs bounce, and Avery felt his heartbeat quicken.
It was so easy to believe those fingers belonged to that sexy woman on the TV, Trent thought, especially in the dark, under the covers. That was what her fingers would feel like, Trent was sure. He could picture it in his mind.
“Ssssshhh…” Avery licked Trent’s earlobe. “You can pretend you’re asleep…”His hand slid over Trent’s six-pack to his cock, reaching into his boxers. He gripped his dick and gave it a stroke, bringing it the rest of the way to full erection.
Trent moaned. “My girlfriend…”
“Ssssssssh…. You’re asleep, it’s okay, your girlfriend can’t be mad at you for things your body does when it’s asleep, and anyway, you won’t remember any of this,” Avery said. “Everybody needs a little release…”
“I’m not drunk, I don’t drink-“
“I know, shush…” Avery kissed him on the cheek and lowered his head beneath the covers. He sucked some of the sweat that beaded in the valley between Trent’s pecs. It was salty and warm, and it made Avery’s whole body surge with desire.
At last Avery made it to that cock. He’d freeze-framed on a video of Trent playing basketball in his shorts, cock plainly outlined by the fabric. He had that pic on his phone right now. So he’d been daydreaming about this moment for a long time. He was giddy that he finally got to taste the great Trent Wyatt’s cock.
It was even bigger than he had thought it’d be. He popped the tip in his mouth, making Trent’s whole body shake. His muscles flexed. Avery giggled. His soft limps caressed the rock-hard shaft, which throbbed beneath his touch.
“Oh god….-” Trent cut his moan off because Avery shushed him again. His dick pulsated in Avery’s mouth, rapidly firming up even though Avery hadn’t done much with it.
As Trent’s whole body undulated, Avery pushed his head up and down the shaft, deep-throating it, then pulling all the way off to take a sweat-scented breath of air, then deep-throating it again. Every time his nose hit Trent’s pubes, a moan came out of Trent. Avery murmured, “Shush, you’re asleep, remember? You can tell your girlfriend nothing happened, because you don’t remember it.”
Trent did feel like sleeping. He wasn’t asleep. But this was dark, and he couldn’t see Avery at all. With his eyes closed, he didn’t even see the TV, but he heard the moist, feminine sounds of emanating from the woman on TV.
The sour-salty taste of precum hit Avery’s tongue, and he slurped down every drop. Avery loved precum. He suckled on the tip of Trent’s dick, then throated him deeply until Trent gasped and cried out.
Trent wrapped his hands around Avery’s scalp and held on. He pumped his hips, humping Avery’s mouth as aggressively as anyone ever had.
He was on the verge of blowing his wad when Avery pulled off him. Trent let out a roar of frustration, followed by a desperate little mewling sound. His cock was ready to explode. He had never been this horny. The thought of not blowing his load right away made Avery pained.
He needn’t have worried. Before he could think, Trent felt Avery climb atop his body. Avery carefully kept the covers over him the best he could — the room was dark, so it didn’t hardly matter, but he knew from personal experience that men considered that sexy. It was easy to pretend he was a woman if they couldn’t see him.
Avery gripped Trent’s cock and slid down on it. He bit his lip at first, as intense, uncomfortable pressure flooded his ass. Trent’s dick stretched his tight hole, sending a few twinges of pain through his body. He kneaded the smooth, hard flesh of Trent’s muscled chest as he slid lower and rode him.
At last he was all the way down. His ass squeezed around Trent’s manhood, which pulsated inside him, throbbing so Avery could feel Trent’s heartbeat throughout his body.
He leaned his head down and kissed Trent’s grizzled chin — he was normally clean-shaved, but he hadn’t shaved yet on this road trip. Avery moaned into Trent’s ear. Pleasure exploded in Avery’s veins.
“Goddamn, man,” Trent said. He slowly lost his inhibitions and wrapped his hands around Avery’s waist. He guided him up and down on his cock.
The sheets and blankets fell off Avery’s body, but the room was dark enough that Trent still didn’t see him. Avery shivered a little in the sudden chill of the air-conditioned room.
Avery’s ass clenched. He moaned, his desire to sound like a woman momentarily fading as he shot his own load into his hand. His prostate exploded in intense pleasure that rocked through his body. He leaned his head back and would have howled but he didn’t want the hotel staff to tell them keep it down, so he muffled the sound and instead undulated intensely atop Trent’s crotch.
“Holy shit!” Trent didn’t worry about being loud. He was having the most potent orgasm he’d felt in a very long time. He filled Avery with his creamy seed, each gyration of his hips sending a new wave of pleasure that ratcheted his sensations up to a new level.
Trent couldn’t believe good that felt. His voice broke and he caressed Avery’s chest as though he might find breasts there if he looked hard enough. His body went from smooth and clean to drenched in sweat in mere moments.
Then he felt limp and fell back onto the bedspread. Still, he squirmed there as though it hurt because Avery remained on top of his dick, which still throbbed, exquisitely sensitive in Avery’s tight ass. It felt so good that Trent grunted with pain.
Finally, Avery slid off him, his entire body moist and slathered in fluids. Avery let out a long moan that filled the still hotel room.
The comfortable silence was interrupted moments later by a knock on the door. Trent’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he jumped out of bed.
“Uh… Hello?”
Trent’s eyes opened wide. “Hello?! What?!”
“Uh, sir… could you… We have received a complaint, sir. Can you keep it down in there?” the clerk said, his voice wavering, especially when Trent virtually ripped the door open. He hadn’t meant to come across as angry or intimidating, but he did, especially since he was so tall, muscular and stark-naked, massive dick dangling and gleaming with moisture between his legs. A few drops of cum still clung to the tip, and Trent hoped the clerk didn’t see it. It was dark, so probably it wasn’t visible.
Trent hadn’t meant to flash his cockmeat at the clerk. So he just grunted. “Uh-huh. Later.” He slammed the door shut.
Well, he thought, that clerk was definitely going to post about it on the ESPN forums. At least it wasn’t obvious he was in here with a man, or so Trent hoped.
He scooted back into bed besides Avery, who had cleaned up. Avery cuddled up next to Trent, who sighed and let him do so, even when he felt Avery’s dick touching his thigh.
“I’m glad I’m your driver,” Avery said. He kissed Trent’s neck. “Do you want me to wake you up in the morning, sweetie?”
“Hell yeah, babe. Keep ya head under the covers though, since there’ll be light in the room. And don’t make no noise if my girlfriend calls me in the morning. She prolly will.”

The Model

Avery hires a hunky model for a photoshoot, but the stud’s girlfriend ruins everything, and he’s got an inconvenient bulge he can’t get rid of… That’s where Avery comes in! He’s willing to service this handsome alpha if that’s what it takes!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Apparently, this was the only weeping willow tree in front of a barn and a pond in this area. Avery didn’t think that could possibly be true. Weeping willow trees were everywhere. Ponds and barns were quite common. How could this be the only suitable location? It was probably just the only one they could find a picture of on the Internet.
But Avery wasn’t about to complain. He had a spot laid out he thought would look good, so long as the model showed up soon, before the sun moved.
He paced back and forth. This was the first time he had been hired as a photographer, after months of selling cut-rate services online. Thus far, it had been kind of a bust.
But then all of a sudden, a large Indian company hired him to take twelve pictures — of handsome shirtless American men. They were making a calendar, it seemed. Avery was excited. This seemed like a real possible entrance into the world of professional photography. On the one hand, taking shirtless-hunk pics was kind of cheap, but on the other hand, it was indisputably professional, not amateur — Avery would be able to put on his resume that he had produced the pictures for a best-selling calendar (obviously he didn’t know if it would be best-selling, but no one regulated that kind of claim, and for all he knew, it would be a best-seller in India).
He wondered if he should have looked up what Indian women thought was handsome. He hadn’t considered that. Should he assume they wanted what he would want? Would an American man think the same thing was sexy as some Indian women? The Indian company who hired him hadn’t even said that they were releasing it in India, so that all might not even matter.
He tried doing some googling with the Google India portal. As far as he could tell, aside from a preference for beards, there wasn’t much he could glean about handsome Indian men.
They wouldn’t want a picture in front of an American barn if they wanted him to look Indian, Avery thought. What if the model is Indian? He should have asked more questions when he accepted the gig. It had seemed so simple at the time: just snap some pics of a handsome bare-chested dude in front of a weeping willow, a pond and a barn. They even found the location for him and hired the model (and when the original model had had to cancel, they found a replacement).
Finally a little red Ferrari zoomed along the winding country roads that carved through the mountains. It was going way too fast, Avery thought. It came to a screeching halt on the asphalt — not on the little gravel road that led to the barn, which was where Avery had parked.
“Oh my god, Owen if you think you’re parking my dad’s Ferrari in the fucking gravel, you are very mistaken,” said a female voice. She was Veranda, and she was a pretty but harsh-looking woman with an angular face and blonde hair so perfectly cascading past her shoulders that it looked like she had scalped a Barbie. Avery instantly took a disliking to her and not just because she was Owen’s girlfriend.
Owen was the model, and he was dreamy, impossibly hunky, cringe-inducingly handsome. Avery wanted to gaze into his soulful eyes and hear him wax philosophically about sunsets. He wanted to slather him with kisses. Avery hadn’t expected him to be like that. He was kind of lean, but well-muscled, long-limbed, tall but not extraordinarily so. He had dark hair in an impeccable little foppish wave, every strand in place and plastered there with some sort of mousse that Avery guessed was very expensive. He had dour dimples and a disaffected grin on his face as he got out of the car, tossed his head back to get his hair out of his eyes and nodded at Avery.
Still on the road, they had to walk to meet Avery. Owen was mostly silent the whole way, but Veranda kept talking. “This is all so ridiculous. I can’t believe we drove all this way for this.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
“I mean, we drove for like an hour to get here, an hour back, that means you’re making like twenty bucks an hour. That’s bullshit. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t piss on a dead dog for that,” she said. She lit her cigarette. “And for that…” She glanced over at Avery as though she didn’t want to finish her sentence in front of him.
That’s because she and Owen had been about to have sex when he got the call asking him to come here for a photoshoot. Owen had been struggling to break into modeling for awhile. He was desperate for any gig he could get. So he went even if it disrupted them from having sex.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen until after Owen took a little blue boner pill.
It wasn’t until Avery had shaken Owen’s hand and gotten him to take his shirt off that he noticed the erection. Owen had aimed it up so it wasn’t that obvious at first. Once you saw it though, you couldn’t hardly miss it.
For one thing, he had worn tight skinny-jeans. There was nowhere to hide his ten inches of manmeat in those pants. Avery snuck glances at it as he explained the photoshoot and got a look at Owen next to the barn and weeping willow. He looked good in the right light, real good. This was going to be a nice photoshoot. But Avery’s eyes were drawn over and over to the Wiagro-fueled bulge in his designer jeans.
Owen blushed when he saw Avery checking it out. He again re-angled his cock upwards, so it wouldn’t tent his pants. It was still visible though.
“Ah, so… You have a, uh…” Avery blushed. “That’s going to be a problem.” He pointed to Owen’s crotch. “It’s very distracting.”
“Sorry, man… what kinda pants am I supposed to wear? I can hide it,” Owen said. He bit his lip nervously, showing off those outrageous dimples that made Avery swoon. His whole body sort of undulated when he got nervous, showing off those outrageous abs — he did one-hundred sit-ups twice a day. He demonstrated that, with his cock at the right angle, it wasn’t visible. But every time he moved, it was no longer at the right angle, and he winced each time because his erect dick was so sensitive. “Sorry. I, uh… I have a hardon. It’s hard to get rid of-“
“He’s not kidding, it won’t go away for hours.”
“Don’t worry, I, uh, I have spare pants. They’re corduroys,” Avery said. “Let’s go into the barn and change.” He glanced back at Veranda. “I’ll… I’ll work around, uh… your anatomical… issues-“
She scoffed and took a deep drag. “He took a pill, mister, that thing’s not going away for a couple hours. Cuz if he thinks I am letting him fuck me in a fucking barn in the fucking middle of fucking nowhere, he is sorely mistaken-“
Owen interrupted her, his face suddenly tense and red. “I didn’t fucking ask you to fuck me in a fucking barn in the fucking middle of fucking nowhere-!”
“Don’t you shout at me, you loser!” She shouted right back. “Go ahead and get him off, mister! He’s gonna stay hard until you do.” She crossed her arms over her chest and took out her phone to start texting. Avery got the feeling she had been waiting for a good opportunity to lose herself in her phone and that she was not going to pay any more attention to Owen. Owen seemed relieved by that.
Avery nodded as politely as he could muster at her, not that she was paying attention, she was focused on that phone. He walked away, arm in arm with Owen.
When they got in the barn, Avery handed the corduroys over to Owen, who dropped his pants. That was when Avery saw how huge his cock was, and how throbbing that erection. He had been blue-balled, it seemed, and Avery was tantalized by its meaty heft and how close it already appeared to orgasm
I bet I could just run my finger along the top of it and he’d bust out, Avery thought. He blushed.
“Corduroys, huh? Do people still wear corduroys?”
“Maybe in India,” Avery said with a shrug. “They told me these would be good pants to wear.” He watched as Owen tried to fit into the corduroys, but they were a little small for him, and his massive erection kept getting in the way. Owen blushed until he was as red as Avery.
“Uh… I’ve been working out, getting more muscle tone,” Owen said. “I prolly need bigger pants. I have big thighs now. I can do it though, I just… uh…”
“Was your girlfriend serious about me jacking you off?”
Owen nodded. “You’re like… into that? Is that… cool? I mean…?” He was one of those people who talked as if everything was a question, so it was hard to tell what he actually intended as a question and what was a statement.
Avery dropped to his knees. “I just need you to go soft enough for us to take a couple pics. No biggie. I’m a professional like that. I’ll do what it takes to make this photoshoot a success.”
Owen sucked in his breath and nodded again. He peered outside to see if his girlfriend was coming closer. She was focused on her phone and wouldn’t likely put it down until he said he was done. Owen rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d let a man jack him off. Owen found a lot of modeling gigs came easier if he let a producer manhandle him. He didn’t mind. In this case, it wasn’t even that — he already had the gig. He could even have masturbated if he really wanted to.
But that would have definitely made Veranda make fun of him. She would have called him a pussy for jacking his own self off, like a loser-ass pansy. She was like that.
Avery sunk to his knees at Owen’s feet, and he pulled those corduroys down until his cock was bare. Avery chased it with his mouth, while Owen stood there like he was modeling already, putting out a smoldering handsome face aimed in no direction in particular. He looked contemplative, serious yet casual.
Finally, his dick plopped heavily on Avery’s waiting tongue. It tasted like sex, Avery decided, you could tell he had been thinking about sex, maybe even precummy, not that long ago. He might have fucked Veranda recently. Though she did seem like the kind of girlfriend who usually found an excuse not to have sex. She was like that, Avery could tell.
He could sense that Owen had been hard for a long time too. He was rock-hard but still springy and just a bit floppy in the best possible way. His veiny shaft was not pulsating like a normal hardon at first, but it did begin to throb once Avery got it excited — basically, it was still and dull when his erection was caused by pharmaceuticals, but once it was caused by arousal, it was a potent, throbbing stiffy like any other.
Avery played with it a bit first, while Owen made nervous mewling noises and kept checking his girlfriend. She had said he “could” do this, but he didn’t want her to know he actually did it. She’d probably insist he make friends with Avery so anytime she didn’t want to suck him off — pretty much always — she’d tell him to get his nut off from Avery.
That’d be a great plan from Avery’s perspective. Not so much for Owen.
He sighed and tried to relax to enjoy the mouth on his cock, which Avery worked on with enthusiasm. It did feel good, he thought, as Avery slathered his shaft with spit and slurped merrily on the tip. It was nice to get jacked off by someone eager to do it. Veranda treated it like a chore, like doing the dishes — a chore that Owen couldn’t even tell her not to worry about, because she insisted he would cheat on her if she didn’t do it. Somehow she did things neither of them wanted, yet it was Owen’s fault.
Not Avery. Owen could tell Avery did this because he wanted it, because he needed it, because Owen’s cock was that good. Avery guzzled it down.
“Hmmmm…. You taste sweet,” Avery said when he pulled off Owen’s shaft. A few drops of precum came out the tip, and Avery slurped them down. The bright, salty taste of Owen’s body hit his senses.
Avery slurped on the tip with a smirk as he played with the underside of Owen’s shaft. He let it dance overtop his face, with his mouth and lips planted right at the root, on the underside. He let his tongue snake out and tickle the veiny spot where his dick met his ballsac. The taste was salty and funk, accentuated by the vaporous chypre of the drugstore cologne Owen wore.
Owen groaned and closed his eyes. “Goddamn, man, you got a nice mouth. You’re better than Veranda. I swear, she’s like ninety-percent teeth. She’s like a shark.”
Avery chuckled. He spat on the shaft then licked it off, making Owen groan and shudder in excitement. Avery licked his way down the shaft until he got to those low-hanging balls, which were clean and ripe and juicy. Avery guzzled them down, letting his mouth fill with Owen’s fleshy sac.
“Can I lick your ass?” Avery asked. He didn’t often give out rimjobs, but if he were ever going to do it, Owen was perfect. He had a nice clean ass, fleshy and firm and strong. It smelled of sunshine and coconut soap.
His eyes opening wide, Owen blushed as he turned around. He once again checked his girlfriend — she was texting angrily now, presumably either bitching about him or sympathizing with one of her friends who was bitching about her boyfriend. She ignored him. She didn’t seem to have even noticed that this was taking a long time — technically, Owen had only come in here to change his pants. But it had already been a good five minutes, maybe more like ten.
For all she knows, this photographer turned out to be a serial killer and he’s already turning my dick into a lampshade, Owen thought to himself. The more time he spent with Veranda, the more he wanted to dump her.
But Owen was one of those guys who was literally never single. Since middle school, he always had a serious girlfriend. He hadn’t gone more than a week or two without a girlfriend in years. He didn’t know how to handle life without a woman telling him what to do.
And supporting him. Owen didn’t make enough from modeling to pay the bills.
Avery kneeled behind Owen, who leaned on a railing of some kind — this barn wasn’t used anymore, but it looked like at one point it had been for milking cows. Owen grimaced and spread his legs wide so Avery could get between his cheeks. His thighs were thickly muscled, and his buttcheeks were smooth like porcelain. Avery rammed his tongue in quickly, his hands kneadig the flesh of Owen’s backside.
“Oh god…” Owen wasn’t expecting it to feel so good, especially right away. He threw his eyebrows way back, and he let out a long moan.
From the moment Avery’s tongue hit his asshole, spasms of pleasure shot up Owen’s spine. Owen grunted and groaned. Avery’s tongue rammed into him. It seemed impossibly long, and Owen even looked behind himself to check if it was really his tongue or if it was a finger.
But he’d never gotten a rimjob before, so he didn’t know what it was supposed to be like. Was his ass that sensitive? Or was Avery’s tongue that big? Or maybe Avery was just really good at it. A wave of pleasure exploded in Owen’s body, like something he had never experienced, it was toe-curlingly intense.
Regardless, Owen’s eyes bulged out and he lifted one foot like a dog getting scratched. He wrenched his head back and held his breath.
Avery lapped at his perfectly clean and smooth ass. Owen had even gotten his anus bleached a few weeks ago, so it was pristine. His asscheeks were a lightly tanned brown, the same shade as the rest of his skin — obviously, Avery thought, he tanned in the nude. He had no tan lines at all.
Finally Owen had had enough. His cock strained to finally shoot his wad. He pulled away a little gingerly, his knees going weak when Avery’s face moved away from his ass. “Okay, man, I gotta nut. I swear it feels like I’ve been hard for years, man. I don’t even remember what it feels like to not… y’know… to be able to think about something else.” He gasped. “Oh god, I need to nut-“
“You wanna stick it in me?” Avery asked. He turned around, baring his own ass, which was paler and not as perfectly smooth as Owen’s, but still it was good enough for Owen’s horny body. He didn’t even care anymore, he just wanted to ram his dick in some tight hole and finally blow his wad.
So he didn’t even answer Avery’s question. He didn’t want to speak for fear of attracting attention from Veranda out there. She might have genuinely gotten angry if she knew what he was doing. She didn’t even know about cornholing, Owen was pretty sure. Or if she knew about it, she thought it was an urban legend, not something anybody would do.
And she’d never touch Owen again if she knew.
In any case, Avery was plenty loud for him from the moment Owen’s cock rammed up his backside. Avery grunted and groaned, pawing at the ground just from sheer excitement as that meaty shaft slid between his cheeks. It felt even girthier because Owen was skinny-muscled. It looked like he had stolen a thick man’s cock, Avery thought, making him giggle as he squeezed the lube he always kept in his pocket over his own ass and Owen’s shaft.
That helped the rest of Owen’s erection slide into Avery’s ass. Owen grimaced, humping his dick between Avery’s cheeks until he saw lube bubbling in and out of the hole. Then he aimed it in, closed his eyes and moaned.
It felt so good. Fucking Veranda hadn’t been this good in years, not since they first hooked up, if ever. None of his girlfriends ever made him feel like this.
He completely lost track of time. Owen didn’t even care how long it took or about the money from the photo shoot. None of that seemed important. All that mattered was ramming his entire rod into Avery’s ass, ramming into him over and over, exploring every inch of his tender body. Sensations exploded through both men’s bodies. Owen moved with more passion than he ever had.
“Oh god, stick it in me!” Avery called out. He had completely forgotten Veranda was out there. Owen didn’t think much about that either. She had excised herself from his life, Owen thought, so why should he care if she knew about this? What was the worst she could do? Bitch about it like she already bitched about every single thing that happened?
He wasn’t sure he had ever gotten his entire dick in a woman’s ass. He was big enough that that was a challenge, and he was too much of a doe-eyed prettyboy to really push for it anyway. So it felt nice to jam his dick in and out, clapping his hands and smacking Avery’s plump cheeks. Most women couldn’t even take his whole cock in their pussies, and Veranda would never lower herself to trying. She thought only ghetto-sluts did anal.
Finally he felt an orgasm approach, exquisite bliss spiderwebbing through Owen’s body, making his muscles all tighten up at once. Owen sighed and moaned out loud, blushing as he saw Veranda poke her head into the barn. Her eyes opened wide.
She was just in time to watch Owen’s six-pack undulate as he orgasmed. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and sucked in his breath. His balls slapped against Avery’s asscheeks, making a loud thwack-thwack sound with each thrust of his hips at Avery’s tight booty. Veranda’s face froze.
He stayed there all the way in, cock throbbing within Avery’s ass, as the most intense orgasm of his life burst within him. Owen shouted and pounded on his chest. He ran his fingers through his coiffed hair, finally messing up his hairdo and giving himself that ‘just-fucked-a-chick’ look. A similar surge of pleasure coursed through Avery’s veins, and Avery panted, crying out for more.
“Owen!” Veranda shouted, yelping at the sight of her boyfriend’s ruddy face and bulging eyes. She held her breath and tried to look away but found herself unable to do so.
Owen didn’t respond. He was too busy writhing with bliss as he climaxed into Avery’s tight ass. Avery had been stroking himself off the whole time, and he shot his own wad soon after, spraying it over the wooden floor of the barn. A vast flood of it spurted several feet in front of him, as Owen’s cock stimulated a prostate orgasm that wracked Avery from head to toe.
Her feet tapped on the barn floor. Veranda had said Owen should get jacked off by Avery, not stick him in the butt. She had trouble thinking of a reason she should be angry about this, but she wasn’t about to let an opportunity to win an argument pass her by.
“Owen! How dare you?!” Veranda scowled.
“What?” Owen said, his voice wavering because he was still in the throes of orgasm. “You said to jack off with him.” The last few drops of his load filled up Avery’s ass.
Only then did Avery realize Veranda was even here. She seemed so unimportant to him. Even now, as Owen and her yelled, Avery’s attention remained on the fat cock in his ass, stimulating his prostate and causing a symphony of sensations to continue sparking up and down Avery’s petite body.
“I said to put it in his mouth, you jackass!” She scowled. “That’s disgusting, what you’re doing… It’s… It’s…”
“Nuh-uh,” Owen said with a throaty laugh. He took a deep breath, watching his dick throb within Avery’s cheeks. Then he pulled slowly out. Both him and Avery sighed when his cock left Avery’s ass, and both men’s knees went weak. “Goddamn, man, I needed that. Shit, you-“
“Don’t you talk back to me!”
“-you got hella nice ass, man,” Owen said, speaking over Veranda. He blushed intensely. That was true and he meant to say it, but he said it mainly to prove to Veranda he didn’t need to hang on her every word. He was his own man, not simply her boyfriend.
“Thanks. You got a nice dick. It’s a pity this photoshoot isn’t naked,” Avery said. He cleaned himself off with a wetnap.
“You hear me, you jerk?! This photoshoot is over!”
“No! We’re over. Go home, Veranda,” Owen said. He looked to Avery. “You’ll give me a ride home, right? That’s her car. Or her dad’s, I mean. Nothing is hers. You can play with it some more on the way. I’m sure I’ll be hard again by then.”
“Sure,” Avery said as Veranda stomped away to her car. Avery cleared his throat. “Okay, well, get those corduroys on. We’ll have to hurry to get these pics taken before your boner comes back.” Avery smiled. His first photoshoot as a professional photographer had gone better than expected.

The Repairman

Rob is hiring another handyman, this time to fix his air conditioner. When he ends up with the hunky Bellamy Harshfield and his studly grandfather Lyle, Rob knew which one he liked best… Rob likes his meat finely aged, so before he knows it, he’s on his knees servicing every inch of Lyle’s body. Can Bellamy handle his handsomeness being rejected for his grandfather’s alpha-male manhood?!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob took a nervous step back, his heart pounding. The two repairmen came into his house, and he felt a few tinges of sweat on his brow. His plan was working as intended. After accidentally getting the wrong repairmen a couple times, he had been worried it would happen again. But these two were Bellamy and Lyle Harshfield, exactly whom he had been hoping for.
They talked — and Rob responded a bit without paying much attention — about the air conditioner. It wasn’t working. It was sweltering in here, and Rob was glad to see them. But he was glad, not just because the air conditioner should start working soon, but also because they were both hot.
The younger one was Bellamy Harshfield, and he was a gorgeous dreamboat: blond, dimpled, smooth-cheeked, no doubt apple-bottomed and with a cock to match. He was nineteen, just barely, and he had all the vim and vigor befitting a man of that age. He was sprightly, ropy muscled like an old sailor, like he retained all the power of a younger man but had it condensed into these compact limbs that still had room for a little padding.
But Rob had no interest in young studs like Bellamy. Bellamy probably had a legion of pretty girls chasing him around with their tits flopping about. Rob wasn’t interested in men like him, women could have them.
He liked the older one, Lyle, who was not just a bit older — he was Bellamy’s step-grandfather. He was gloriously imperfect in his dad-bod, which brimmed with muscle and power even if he wasn’t carved out of alabaster like Bellamy. His body crammed more muscle into a smaller frame, giving him a dense and meaty look. Lyle was shorter, hairier, with fuzz sticking out from under his dingy old tee shirt, extending up to his shoulders. He was balding, and he was thick-bodied — so was Bellamy, but Lyle had more of a squarish shape, like he had gotten so big for so long his body no longer knew what to do with the muscle he had grown. His hair was dirty-blond too, just like Bellamy’s, but now grayish and thin unlike Bellamy’s dense shock of action-hero hair.
They went to the air conditioner just outside the house, and Rob hung around inside, positioning himself so he could see them. Lyle attracted all of his attention. He bent over to inspect the air conditioner, showing Bellamy what he saw and explaining how to fix it.
“Hold this!” Lyle said with a snarl — Bellamy had failed to pay close enough attention, and now Lyle was in a bad mood. “You damn fool boy, quit messin’ around.”
“Sorry, Gramps,” Bellamy said with a sigh. He took his cell phone out and peered at it, trying to look like he still paid attention to Lyle even while he texted a girl.
“This here is the intake valve. Most of the time when they go kaput like this, without a smoke or a smell — or a — hey, boy, you put that motherfuckin’ game boy down and pay attention-“
“It ain’t a Game Boy, Gramps. No one’s played Game Boys for like twenty years-“
“That was what ya Pa used to play-“
“Yeah, I know, Gramps. It’s cool. I know how to tighten a valve,” Bellamy said with a scoff. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Oh?” He handed the wrench to Bellamy, who took it hesitantly. He hefted the wrench in one hand. Then Lyle ran his own fingers through his hair, just like his step-grandson had moments before. Lyle’s hair was thinner though, like his forehead was mugging his scalp very slowly, and he ran his fingers through the threadbare patch as though he was used to having more hair than he actually had.
Bellamy approached the air conditioner. He tried to attach the wrench, but Lyle rolled his eyes and sighed. Bellamy fumbled with it until Lyle bent over to help again.
“There,” Lyle said. “You best pay attention, son. I am teachin’ you a trade. You know when I was growin’ up, this was the only way to learn a skill. Men fought over the chance to learn this kinda shit.”
“That’s cuz no one had invented books yet, Gramps!” Bellamy said, chuckling. “You had to ask your local lord for permission to learn how to read-“
“Oh, hush your face,” Lyle said. He tightened the valve himself. “You know, if you would ever apply your goddamn fool self you could maybe learn a little something, make a life for yourself-“
“Gramps, come on, I’ve got a life for myself. I’ve got like two thousand instagram followers who are into my sick abs,” Bellamy said. He lifted up his shirt to show off his perfect six-pack. He ran his fingers up the ridges of muscle there. “See?”
“Used to be only girls worried about their bellies.”
“In the olden days! I don’t wanna be fat! It’s bad for you, Gramps!”
“You been hanging out with that foolish girl with green hair-“
“She’s my girlfriend, Gramps, her name is Meredith and I love her-“
“Then put a ring on it!”
“Give me a ring!” Bellamy said. He threw his hands in the air.
Lyle scoffed and waved his grandson away. He returned to fixing the air conditioner. His hairy arms flexed, gleaming with sweat, biceps bulging. Bellamy resumed playing with his phone, ignoring his grandfather who continued to fix the air conditioner. Still inside the house, Rob watched Lyle’s plump granddad-ass sway in his overly baggy jeans — it looked like he had gotten frustrated trying to find jeans that fit according to the style of his youth and had ended up with these preposterously baggy jeans that made him look like he beat up a rapper to steal his clothes.
“You don’t know jack-shit about girls nowadays, Gramps. That’s why you never get any pussy-“
“I get plenty of pussy!” Lyle shouted. He grunted. He glanced towards the house and saw Rob. “You’re gonna get a complaint, son. Shut that facehole.”
“You’re the one shouting about pussy.”
“You gonna offend the homeowner-!”
“That homeowner is a sensitive sort, Gramps, he’d scream in terror at the sight of a pussy,” Bellamy said with a laugh. “He’d prolly like you.”
“Nah. Nancy-boys like clean, long-haired guys with pretty faces and doe eyes. He’d probably cotton to you. Maybe you could dump that green-haired communist you been with and hook up wit’ him. At least he got a house,” Lyle said.
“She’s not a communist, she’s a socialist.”
“Ain’t that the same thing?”
“No,” Bellamy said. His voice was unsure though, and it sounded like he could not have explained the difference. “They’re… She has beliefs that are… Just shut up, Gramps.”
“You put a ring on that yet?”
“You know I can’t afford one, I will, I’m savin’ up for it,” Bellamy said. “I’ll have enough by the end of the year.”
“Hey,” Rob said. He came to the door, and they both turned to look at him. He smiled at them both in turn.
“Ya air conditioner should be fixed soon, suh,” Lyle said. He looked down and mumbled a little, like he had never really gotten used to speaking to men so respectfully. “Sorry ‘bout the salty language. My grandson here is a-” He paused, seemingly unable to think of a non-obscene word to use. Finally, he came up with “dumbass”.
Rob smiled. “Don’t worry. It takes a lot more than that to offend me,” he said. “I happened to hear that you needed an engagement ring for your girlfriend?”
Bellamy blushed. “I mean… I ain’t, y’know, sure we gonna get married, or whatever, I mean, you know, I was just sayin’, like, I’m thinkin’ ‘bout — I love her, for real, for sure, man, and she ain’t no communist. I just, I think, I ain’t sure, I wanna like, I mean, I know-“
“Okay, shut up, son, that communist pussy has turned your tongue into a retard,” Lyle said. “You shouldn’t eat so goddamn much —pussy ” He glanced back at Rob again. “Sorry… I mean, vagina…” It sounded like he had possibly never said the word vagina out loud before.
Rob waved that off and took out his phone. “How much do I owe you for the air conditioner?”
“Eighty bucks.”
He activated the PayUp to pay the bill. “Would you two like to earn an extra thousand dollars? You could buy a nice engagement ring for that.”
“Shit, yeah,” Bellamy said.
“Whatevuh you need, suh,” Lyle said.
“Well… I admire a man with a marvelous physique,” Rob said. “So I was wondering, for a thousand dollars-“
“Ha! He want a taste of ya meat, boy!” Lyle said. “You gonna do the prison-tango!” He grabbed for Bellamy’s crotch, but Bellamy blushed and smacked his hand away.
“Gramps, let go!” Bellamy’s mouth was agape.
“You gonna earn that engagement ring the hard way, boy!”
Rob cleared his throat. “I don’t think communists do engagement rings. It’s too bourgeoisie.”
“She’s not communist!”
Rob smiled and squeezed Bellamy’s biceps. “You’re adorable, and I bet your little Maoist girlfriend loves your body-“
“I don’t know what that means, but she’s not a Maoist either.”
“I’m not interested in you though,” Rob said. He turned to Lyle, whose balding head gleamed. His tee-shirt was soaked with sweat even though he hadn’t done much work yet and it wasn’t even too hot outside. Lyle looked at him like he was confused. Rob came closer. “I like my meat finely aged.”
Lyle furrowed his brow.
“You like me?”
Rob nodded. He placed a hand on the waist of Lyle’s jeans. “I like you a lot. So how about you let me take a taste, and I give you a thousand dollars, and if your would-be granddaughter-in-law deserves it, you buy her that engagement ring. Or if not, you can buy her a beet with which she can make borscht,” Rob said. He smacked his lips. “It’s a win-win.”
They were both shocked. Bellamy was so handsome girls threw themselves at him. He’d fucked his math teacher, he nearly banged his way into college, but he ended up going to business with his stupid dad instead. On several occasions, old men had offered him money on the street to give them his undershirt or jockstrap. Bellamy had done some modeling for a local hot tub store.
So Bellamy thought he should be the one Rob paid. It was ridiculous that Rob liked his grandfather. It didn’t quite compute in Bellamy’s mind, and he kept thinking it was a prank. He watched as Rob sunk to his knees in front of Lyle. Lyle was balding, with just a perimeter of faded hair around his head, scalp gleaming with sweat.
Though he tried to hide it, Lyle was just as surprised as Bellamy. If he had known he was the object of Rob’s desire, Lyle would have never responded like he did. He only wanted to embarrass his cocky grandson and make him earn that thousand dollars so he would hurry up and get married. Lyle didn’t know that it was him whom Rob preferred.
“Ah, damn…” Lyle tried to look confident. When he was growing up, things were different. Stuff happened in the YMCA shower. That’s where it all went down back then.
But only really tough guys went around ramrodding freaks in the YMCA shower. Lyle never did. He always thought he could if he got real horny, but he never got over his hangups about it. What if somebody tried to ramrod Lyle? What if he got another man’s cum on his hand? All those things seemed very important back in the 1970s, when Lyle and his fellow factory workers had crowded cock-in-crack into overstuffed showers, teasing each other about who got hard and who had a tiny dick.
Rob popped Lyle’s dick in his mouth. It tasted like old-guy-cock, Rob thought, like old-fashioned unscented bar soap. There was a faintly bitter taste to it and a mark that ran along the shaft — a small scar. It was big and his balls were so heavy and low-hanging that Rob couldn’t help but pop them both in his mouth. His sac was hairy and wrinkled and tasted so good Rob let out a little moan.
“Ah, damn, Gramps, he’s slurpin’ on ya balls, that’s nasty,” Bellamy said. He laughed, and his laughter slowly grew due to his anxiety, until he was red-faced and giggling like a schoolgirl. “He’s eatin’ ya fromunda juice. Oh shit!”
His balls were sour and strongly flavored, with a potent enough flavor to bring tears to Bellamy’s eyes. Rob lazily stroked Lyle’s cock with his other hand, while he savored the flavor of his worksweat-soaked sac, his tongue snaking to tease out every drop of manly juices. Lyle’s shaft was still soft, just barely starting to perk up in rob’s grip. Neither Rob nor Lyle were in any particular hurry.
When Lyle took his shirt off, his dick now totally hard and throbbing in Rob’s mouth, his grandson did the same — a part of Bellamy still didn’t quite understand why Rob would pick Gramps instead of him. He thought maybe Rob just needed to see his perfect six-pack and tapered torso.
Why are you trying to talk him into it? Just be glad he picked Gramps. Bellamy would have felt compelled to agree if Rob had chosen him. There was nothing he couldn’t do with his dick. He brought girls to orgasm in no time. Black girls! Those black girls would never go for Gramps.
Well, the one who was a whore would. But, you know, Gramps wouldn’t make her cum like Bellamy did.
It would have been humiliating to say no to Rob, which was why Bellamy was glad, though indignant, that he wasn’t chosen.
Resuming deep-throating Lyle’s cock, Rob forced that entire rod down his gullet until his nose was nestled in Lyle’s pubic hair. He didn’t trim his pubes, unlike most men these days. Rob appreciated that. Lyle didn’t even know he was old-fashioned for letting his pubic bush grow free. Rob reached up to tweak Lyle’s nipples, making his powerful pecs ripple. Lyle was smaller than his massive grandson, of course, his skin a little shriveled, like a muscular raisin. But those marks and imperfections were precisely what Rob thought was sexy.
He had no interest in a smooth, perfect chest, he liked the meaty realness of Lyle’s body. He was brimming with power, body heat emanating off him, and his body was perfectly padded, giving him just enough flesh for Rob to play with as he handled Lyle’s meat.
When Rob pulled off his dick, he croaked, mouth full of precum, “You taste so good… Hit me with your cock, daddy.” He kept his mouth open and his tongue out. Lyle looked at him like he didn’t want to do it, but he gamely smacked Rob’s tongue and cheeks with his cock.
After doing it a few times, Lyle bristled and puffed up his chest. He couldn’t help but feel good — he had long ago been dumped by a girl because he asked her if he could mollywop her — that was what he called it when you smacked someone in the face with your dick — and she had said yes, then got offended that he did it (she thought it was just another word for a blowjob). Lyle thought it would be hot for her, so he had been offended that she was upset by his cock. It turned into a huge fight that ended the relationship. Seemed silly now.
So Lyle liked doing it now, smacking Rob and watching him chase his cock with his mouth. Then finally Rob got it back on his tongue, slathering spit all up and down the shaft. Lyle leaned his head back and moaned.
Bellamy had backed way up by then. He couldn’t believe he was watching this, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Am I really gonna watch my grandfather bust a nut? He was technically a step-grandfather, no blood relation. But Bellamy still couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Gramps has got a veiny cock. I bet my cock is smoother. Bellamy wanted to ask whether smoother was better, but he wasn’t going to admit he had looked at his grandfather’s dick.
“Hmm… Ram me, please! I need to feel your dick inside me!” Rob hadn’t planned on asking for Lyle to wreck his ass — he didn’t think Lyle would do it with his grandson right there. But he glanced up into Lyle’s sun- and wind-weathered face and saw desire there. He could tell Lyle wanted something more intense.
Sure enough, Lyle was glad to ram him. He snarled like it was a big imposition though. He realized only as Rob bent over with his ass in the air that he should have asked for more money. But now that he had wedged his dick into Rob’s tight ass, there was no way he could get paid for it, now that it was obvious he’d do it for free.
“Fine, boy, I’ll get inside ya-” He turned to Bellamy, who gasped and closed his eyes. “Come closer.” He slapped Bellamy’s cheek. “That’s for actin’ like a right prude, son. Just cuz you ain’t done time don’t mean you gotta act like a nun.”
“Man, Gramps… Was you a booty bandit in prison?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lyle said. He had never rammed a man in prison, not if you define ‘ram’ in a certain way. He did give a reacharound or two, which ain’t a proper ramming by prison rules. At least prison rules as of back in the day, back when things was proper. He was glad to look tough in front of his grandson, who was so muscular and thick that Lyle sometimes felt inadequate. When he first saw Bellamy getting big and athletic, years ago, he thought he couldn’t wait for the day his grandson was stronger than he was. But now it just made him feel old, and feeling that way made him feel like a selfish, shitty grandfather.
A shock of pleasure shot up Lyle’s spine, reminding him that he was here to ram and make money, not show off to his grandson. He liked that Rob writhed beneath him, submitting to his power like he liked it. Rob grunted and moaned, orgasmic bliss flowing through his veins.
The best part of getting rammed by a huge cock, Rob thought, was how awkward and technically bad it was — Lyle tried to avoid touching Rob more than necessary, and he avoided looking at his own cock too much as it slid into Rob’s ass. That made it a difficult process, with awkward angles and moist grunts in Rob’s ear. It also made it last longer. Rob’s orgasm dragged on as Lyle rammed him hard, stimulating his prostate hard and shooting his wad deeply into Rob’s tight ass.
Bellamy winced and stepped away, still unable to close his eyes or turn his head as he watched both men orgasm. His grandfather bucked and slammed into Rob, both of them going to the floor, where Rob squirmed beneath Lyle’s body. Exquisite sensations wracked Lyle’s muscles and Rob’s more delicate frame.
It felt better than Rob was expecting. Lyle’s fat dick expertly slammed into his prostate, sending pangs of pleasure to erupt throughout his body. Rob cried out, and Lyle chuckled, the motion of which made his dick piston like a battering ram into Rob’s ass. Each thrust sent another wave of jizz to fill him up.
“Ah, goddamn, boy…” Lyle’s voice was gravelly and tense, resonant in Rob’s ear. Some drops of spit landed on Rob’s earlobe. “Shit…”
“Uh, I- I… uh…” Rob was unable to talk as cum flowed into him. Lyle buckled, grinding his dick in Rob. Warm, creamy cum coated Rob’s insides, a bigger load filling him up than he thought possible from such an old man.
“Shit!” Lyle said once more. He grabbed Rob’s hair, intending to pull off him but keep a grip on his hair until he paid up. Then an aftershock of his orgasm roiled him, and Lyle just found himself plowing Rob again, ramming his limpening dick in and out. That made a big frothy mess as cum dripped out and all over the floor.
Unable to breathe due to how good this felt, Lyle closed his eyes, keeping a tight grip on Rob’s hair. His dick softened in Rob’s ass, while Rob whimpered and gasped for air. The pressure in his body was intense.
“Oh god!” Rob screamed. A final few drops of jizz hit his prostate, and a tsunami of bliss wracked his body. That was when Rob at last reached his own orgasm. His hand furiously whacked at his own meat, and his moan turned into a low-melting groan as his knees went weak. He was supported entirely in Lyle’s powerful arms.
A jet of cum spurted onto the floor in front of Rob. It felt like Lyle had already been cumming for hours, and Rob experienced every moment of that as though it was his own. But now his own orgasm flooded his veins like melted butter, and his sensitive dick throbbed in his grip.
That lasted only until Lyle wrapped one arm around Rob and kissed him on the cheek. He stroked him off silently, right there in front of his grandson, who shielded his eyes and blushed and chuckled and groaned and complained and shrugged all at once. But Lyle got both hands on Rob’s dick to pull him through the last of his orgasm, and he didn’t need to say that this was a secret, that he didn’t want his grandson to know he was giving a reacharound, that the reason he said he didn’t ramrod a man in prison was that at the time it didn’t count if you gave a reacharound, so the reason he did it now was to show his respect and appreciation for the ecstasy Rob had given him.
At last, Lyle pulled out and sighed. He smacked one of Rob’s cheeks. He looked to his grandson. “See, boy? That’s how a real man does it.”
“Shut up, Gramps… That’s how an old man does it.”
Lyle glared at Rob. “You gonna pay up?” His dick glistened and shone with all the fluids dripping off it. Lyle hefted it in one hand and smirked at his grandson, who was back to holding his face in his hands and groaning like a sad mummy. Lyle winked at Rob, who blushed and nodded.
“Of course,” Rob said. He took his phone out and started tapping, as he got the payment details from Bellamy — Lyle didn’t have PayUp, of course, he considered all smartphones to be namby-pamby bullshit. He was right, but Rob still had one, and he paid it to Bellamy to pass on to his grandfather.. “I’ll put finely-aged meat in the memo field,” Rob said as he tapped his way through the signature screen. “Let me know if you’ve got poker buddies or whatever. I can set up a gloryhole for the night. They gotta be your age though.”
“Oh that’s nasty,” Bellamy said. His cheeks burned red as though it was him that was embarrassed about it. He sneered at Rob. “You’re nasty.”
“Shut up, boy, you’re just jealous,” Lyle said. His face was ruddy, beads of sweat collecting on the worry-wrinkles beneath his eyes. He finally wiped his dick off with Bellamy’s shirt, which lay on the floor still. Bellamy didn’t notice his grandfather cleaning santorum off his shaft with his shirt, which made Lyle chuckle and put out a mischievious smile.
Rob smiled. “No, he’s right. It is nasty, but that’s why I like it,” he said. “Thanks for fixing the air conditioner, and good luck with your communist marriage.”
“Socialist! She assured me there’s a difference.”

The Dumbass

Avery runs into a handsome dumbass at a store, only to realize he’s got an opportunity for rough trade. This lovable idiot just wants some dough, and he’s willing to give Avery a taste of his slacker-jock meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was at Randall’s Candles. He was in Martinsburg for a wedding, and he needed a nice present. The woman getting married loved candles. Avery thought he might find some sort of ultra-luxury candle, or maybe a candle-making kit, but he found nothing of the sort.
What he did see was a tall, broad-shouldered man walk in. He was scruffy, thick-bodied, strong without quite being muscular. He looked rather like a frat boy, but Avery got a strong whiff of dumbness in him and suspected that he did not go to college (or if he did, it was on an athletic scholarship). His face was round and cute enough, not a babyface, just round like the sun, like a sexy Winnie the Pooh. His smile was crooked and everpresent and reeked of idiocy.
Sexy but not handsome, not by a long shot. If he cleaned up, he might be handsome. He had a good body though. Definitely not a six-pack, which was not a problem for Avery. He appreciates a man with a meaty physique. This dark blond man was more of an eat-cereal-for-dinner guy, quite possibly an eats-cereal-with-beer-instead-of-milk kind of guy.
The man’s loudly sniffed one of the candles. He put it in his arms, then grabbed another. His deep bass voice rang out. “This one smells like mango… What’s chut-ney?! Oh, I like this one!”
“Hey, Jimmy,” said the employee, a portly Goth-adjacent woman with dyed black hair, a dour face and a ‘Gina’ nametag. She rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth.
“Hi Gina, did you get any new ones in? I need my usual shipment,” he said. Jimmy looked at Avery and nodded. “‘Sup, hey.”
“Hi,” Avery said. He blushed. He wasn’t expecting to see such a handsome young man in here. The scented-candle shop usually had an exclusively female clientele, despite the name suggesting a man owned it. (There was no “Randall” behind Randall’s Candles though.) “Lemme guess, you’re buying something for your girlfriend? Who’s… an English major?”
“Ha, no, good guess though, my last girlfriend was an English major. She was into poetry and like books and stuff.” He frowned and made a thumbs-down gesture. “She dumped me though.”
“Sorry, man,” Avery said as sympathetically as he could manage.
He shrugged and said, “She dumped me because of inconsiderateness and not being… not saying things when she was… like, upset. Or whatever. Or not, like… sometimes, saying too much. Like, she said I didn’t get it or even, uh… it was about listening too much. Or not enough.” As he talked he tapped on the counter, waiting for Gina to return.
“So, do you really have a ‘usual shipment’?” Avery asked. “You must buy a lot of candles.”
Jimmy blushed and bit his lip. His tapping on the counter gradually turned into full-scale drumming, but it stopped as he turned red. “I just like candles. I like… I read this book — or, my other ex-girlfriend did, really. But she showed me all the good parts, I read them, the parts that she showed me, I did, I read it all,” he explained this in a rush like Avery was going to scold him for not doing his own work. “It was about smelling, and how it has an effect on stuff. Like if you smell something, something happens. You know? Like, in you. It happens in you. It’s like, good for… you. So, she made me put on a pine-forest candle when I worked out. She said it was good for physical… for getting your pump on. Like exercise. Or whatever. So I did it and then she dumped me because I wanted anal too much and my dick was too big. And I liked the forest thing when I work out, it does help me lift more, you know. Or whatever. My coach kept track of my workouts back when I was in college, and he said it was better, cuz I was doing the lifting and all. Aerobic exercise too.” He blinked. “Hey, sorry, I shouldn’t have said that part about fucking her in the ass.” He smiled. “I mean… having sex with her in her ass.” He cocked his head to the side. “I mean, having sex with her in her butt.” He smiled broadly as if expecting a medal for that.
“That’s okay,” Avery said. He was still dumbstruck by how cute Jimmy was, and Jimmy talked so fast it was hard to get a word in.
“Man, I like girls, and, um… boobs. You know about boobs? Boobs are awesome.” He looked into the back and saw Gina coming back to the front. She had a box of forest-scented candles.
“Sorry, Jimmy, the price on these went up,” Gina said. “Just a dollar though. The Homelife Essence series, they raised the price on all of them.”
“Again? The price keeps going up,” Jimmy said with a frown. He sighed and counted out his cash.
“Wait, Jimmy, let me,” Avery said. He handed over his credit card.
“Really? Awesome! Can I get one of those mango chutney ones?!” He was already running back to the shelf to get it. “Do you know what chutney is? Is it food?”
“Yes, it’s like… it’s just chopped up fruit, in a sauce.”
“What’s it smell like?”
“Usually just a bunch of spices and stuff.”
“So you can eat it?” Jimmy said as Gina rang up the candles.
Avery paused, unsure how stupid Jimmy actually was. “… Not the candle,” Avery said. “Actual chutney, yeah. It’s food. Don’t eat the candle.”
“Wow, I wonder what chutney smell is good for? Aroamingtherapy, that’s what you call it. Do you know? Do you think it’ll make me better at X-Box?” Jimmy asked. He was again shifting his weight back and forth like a hyperactive teenager (though he was clearly well into his twenties).
“Maybe,” Avery said. He caught a glimpse of Gina, who was politely bagging up Jimmy’s candles with a morose grimness to her face.
“So, why are you buying candles for me, man? Thanks a lot, by the way. Thanks. Thanks… Thank you. Thank you, sir.” He spoke with increasing seriousness every time he repeated himself. “Thank you.” He gave a bow. “My good sir.”
“No problem, Jimmy, glad to help. I actually have something you could do to earn some money,” Avery said. “I have a job for you, if you’re interested.” He walked out of the shop with Jimmy, who carried his scented candles.
“Oh cool, I need a new job, I hate delivering pizzas. Lemme call my boss and tell him to fuck off. He’s a prickface-“
“No, no-“
“He called his wife a bitch, which I think is wrong. I mean… it’s right, she is a bitch. But you’re not supposed to say that if you’re married to her. And he called Frankie a retard, which is totally not okay because he is a… He has… He’s messed up. It’s okay to call people retards if they’re not.” He paused. “I mean, I think you’re not supposed to do that either. But you’re really really not supposed to call actual retards retards.” He pulled out his phone. “Frankie’s hilarious anyway, he-“
“Jimmy, wait, don’t quit-“
“Hang on, I’m calling my boss. What’s this job you’re hiring me for?” He put the phone to his ear.
Avery could hear it ringing. “Wait! Jimmy, stop!” He grabbed the phone from him and hung up. “Jimmy, shut up, Jesus, listen to me for a minute. I’m not offering you a job. I’m offering you a one-time thing. It’ll take a couple hours, and then I’m leaving. Don’t quit your job. Christ, were you really going to quit because a stranger offered you a job? I didn’t even tell you what the job was or how much it paid.”
He blushed and smiled. “Oh yeah. It’s not a video game developer? That’s what I want to do. That’s what I was hoping for.” He looked genuinely surprised. Jimmy grinned. “They said you have to know about computers though.”
“Yeah, you have to know about computers,” Avery said, rolling his eyes. They were out of the mall now, in the parking lot. Jimmy said he walked to the mall today, so they went to Avery’s car.
“Or a stuntman. I think I’d be a good stuntman. See?” Jimmy flopped onto the ground and rolled back and forth like he was on fire. He screamed so loud he attracted attention from everyone else in the parking lot. Then he jumped to his feet and brushed gravel off his chest. “See? That was me on fire.”
“Cool, Jimmy. That’s neat. No, I’m not offering you a job as a stuntman.”
“So what is it? What is the job?” Jimmy finally asked. Avery couldn’t believe it had taken this long for him to actually ask what the job was. Avery wasn’t trying to hide it, Jimmy just kept talking, and Avery didn’t interrupt him. Avery unlocked his car, and Jimmy sat in the passenger seat.
“Wait… Jimmy… Just for future reference, when someone offers you a job, you should ask what that job is before you get in that stranger’s car,” he said. “And you should consider not getting in the car.”
“How else would I get the job? Should I ride on the roof? My uncle let me do that once when I was a kid. It was awesome. A ladybug flew up my nose. I think it’s still in there.”
Avery sighed. Jimmy was lucky he was cute. Avery didn’t want to sound threatening, so he didn’t explain his concerns in any detail. It was clear Jimmy would remain a fool for the time being regardless. “No, Jimmy. You’re fine. Just be careful, okay? Not everyone is as nice as me. Where do you live?”
Jimmy gave him directions, and he talked the whole way there. It wasn’t far. Avery parked outside a dingy apartment complex near a Taco Bell but not a good Taco Bell. Inside was a typical bachelor pad. It smelled like dirty clothes. There was a TV and a mattress, both on the floor. The trash can by the bed was filled mainly with used condoms and empty beer cans. A street sign reading Twitman Avenue was mounted on the wall — Jimmy later explained that he thought it said Twatman when he was drunk and didn’t realize until the morning that there was no joke there. Most of the living room was taken up by a bench press and free weights scattered around the floor.
“Do you wanna play X-Box?” he asked, running to the console like a kid on Christmas Day. He stopped himself. “Oh, wait, what’s this job? Do I need to wear nice clothes? I have a button-down shirt but there’s a stain on it that looks like pee. It’s not pee, it’s… well, I don’t know the polite word for it. Vaginajuice, I guess? Is that a word? Vagina pee?”
“Vagina pee is just pee, Jimmy.”
“Oh, yeah, I always forget women pee out of there.” He giggled like a schoolboy. “The thing about vaginas-“
“Stop talking about vaginas, Jimmy,” Avery said with a sigh. He watched as Jimmy lit a candle. The room filled with the scent of nuts and milk. Avery smiled. “I-“
“These are chestnuts. It’s a chestnut-eggnog candle. I think chestnut is a funny word, it makes me laugh every time I say it. I think its roaming therapy effect is… it makes me horny, but that’s probably not right. Oh wait, sorry, I mean… is that offensive? It makes me want girls. I think its roaming therapy is that it makes you wanna do it with hot chicks.” Then he blurted out, “With tits!”
“Jimmy…” Avery said. “Have you ever jacked off with a man? Or, y’know… cum in a guy?”
He had to be blunt to sneak the question in before Jimmy went off on another tangent. Jimmy cocked his head to the side like he didn’t understand the question. “What? No… Just y’know, pussy. Vagina, I mean. Vaginas. You know about vaginas, right?”
Avery narrowed his eyes to slits. “I’ve heard of them.” He sighed. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to put it in my ass. You can do it real hard, as hard as you want. And I’ll swallow your dick deeper than any girl.”
Jimmy didn’t respond. For the first time — possibly ever in his life — he was speechless for a long time. He blushed a deep, dark red. “Are you serious? Five hundred dollars!” He jumped up and down. “Wait… Are you serious? You want…?” He was barely able to contain his glee. “But wait… is that allowed?”
“What?”
“Like… won’t I get in trouble?”
“For messing around with me? No. It’s just like jacking off.”
“But you’re not… Isn’t that like… I dunno, racist or something?”
“How would that be racist?”
“Not racist, but, I don’t know… intolerant, or something? Is it okay?” His eyes were bugged out. His face was as red as a cranberry.
“Yes, Jimmy. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell anyone at all,” he said.
Jimmy thought for a long time. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can-“
“You can look at pictures of hot chicks while you do it.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?! Oh, wow, okay then. Sure. I’ll do that. No problem. I mean… what if…? You know, I don’t know if… What if I don’t…? Or if I can’t…?”
“You’ll get hard, Jimmy, don’t worry,” Avery said.
He took a deep breath. He looked more and more nervous with every passing moment, like he had agreed just thinking about the money and now wasn’t sure if he could do it. “Can they be Asian chicks?”
“Yeah. Take off your shirt,” Avery said.
He did so. He laughed. His face was red, as was his chest. Avery didn’t mind — there was nothing more arousing than a nervous alpha. Jimmy had an amazing body. It wasn’t perfect by any means, he had a few pounds of padding on his belly (he was tall enough that he still had a flat stomach, just no six-pack) and a generally meaty build. But he clearly worked out a lot, and his body brimmed with powerful muscles.
He laughed more as Avery kissed his nipple. His pecs rippled beneath Avery’s tongue. His rolling laughter made it difficult for Avery to suck on his muscle, but Avery enjoyed chasing his body with his tongue. His thickness jiggled every time he moved.
“Hey, wait a sec, oh holy shit…” Jimmy mumbled to himself. He went into his bedroom and came back out with a handful of erotic magazines. He sat on the bench press and flipped through one until he found a picture of a sexy Asian woman spreading her legs. He sighed. “Ah, yeah, okay.” He showed Avery. “I like Asian chicks,” Jimmy said. “Is that okay? And I appreciate the culture. Like the tits. Diversity.”
“Fine with me,” Avery said and kneeled in front of him. He touched Jimmy’s dick, which twitched and which made Jimmy’s whole body spasm and shake. Jimmy gasped. He leaned back to give Avery better access to his crotch. His dick twitched in Avery’s grasp.
Then he leaned all the way back and laid onto the bench press, like he was going to work out. He had his magazine in hand, holding it above his head. He gripped it tightly and stared at it like it was a liferaft and he was drowning.
Avery pulled his jeans down and whistled at sight of Jimmy’s massive cock. He wasn’t kidding about it being too big for anal (for most girls, not for Avery, of course). He gave it a stroke and Jimmy laughed again. Jimmy watched his cock throb in Avery’s hand as though it was an action film and he was eager to see how it ended.
His cock perked up as Avery licked it and slathered spit overtop it, letting saliva run down the spongy shaft. It pulsated and firmed up in seconds when Avery really got to slurping on the knob, while his hands gently stroked the sensitive skin of his ballsac. Jimmy had huge hefty balls that felt perfect in Avery’s grip. Soon his shaft was as hard as Jimmy’s muscles, and it throbbed atop Avery’s tongue.
A cacophony of sounds escaped from Jimmy’s mouth. He kept his eyes tightly focused on the magazine, but he gurgled and grunted, moaned, sputtered, laughed and coughed all at once. He glanced down once his dick got hard, then muttered, “Oh god…” and held a tight focus on the magazine. His chest rippled. “Hmmm…”
Once he was good and hard, Avery pulled off his dick, smacking his lips as he savored the first few drops of precum. Jimmy sighed and laughed some more. One of his arms gripped the magazine, the other flailed uselessly over his body — it looked like he had an urge to touch Avery’s head, to guide him up and down, but he didn’t want to touch a man.
He mounted Jimmy, who grunted and lowered the magazine so that it literally covered his face. Then he gagged and dropped it. “Oh, man, I forgot I nutted all over that like a million times. Tastes like cum. Oh man, that smells so nasty.” He covered his face with one forearm, laughing so hard he turned red.
“So do all girls tell you your cock is too big for anal?” Avery asked as he lowered himself onto Jimmy’s dick.
Jimmy bit his lip and bucked. His hands fluttered above his chest, then grabbed the bench press beneath him — the bench was much narrower than his body, so it was awkward and it forced his muscular chest upwards, off the bench. Jimmy laughed and blushed. “Yeah. Yeah. Most girls won’t do it, at least not more than once.” He was about to add something else, but then moaned violently. His cock slid the rest of the way into Avery’s ass. “Oh god, that feels good… Just like a girl, kinda…” His eyes bugged out, and he kept his hands behind his head.
Avery grunted. He was momentarily overcome by pain and pressure in his ass. He struggled to accept it, and his ass gradually loosened. He swayed back and forth, making Jimmy gasp and sputter all over again.
Avery lifted himself up and slid back down Jimmy’s cock. Jimmy responded like he was tied up and had to struggle against the ropes. But of course he wasn’t tied up, the only reason he struggled was that Avery was atop him and Jimmy didn’t want to touch Avery, so there was nowhere to put his hands. Jimmy put his hands on the bench press beneath himself instead.
His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch. Jimmy responded like he was ticklish to Avery’s fingers rubbing his muscles — though it was hard to tell if Jimmy was laughing at that, or just generally laughing, since he hadn’t really stopped since his dick got hard, or since the candle shop, really. Laughter seemed to be his default state. He looked down at his body slick with Avery’s saliva and nervous sweat and watched his cock disappear into Avery’s asshole.
“Oh god, man, I can’t believe… Hey does this mean I’m a gigolo?” Jimmy asked. He covered his eyes again.
“Not technically,” Avery said, his voice tight and pinched as he accepted Jimmy’s massive manhood within him. “A gigolo gets paid by a woman for sex.”
“Do you know any women who…?”
“No. Sorry,” Avery said, orgasmic feelings welling up within him and making it hard to answer. “I think gigolos are fictional.”
“Can I tell people you were a woman?”
Avery smiled, closing his eyes briefly as wafts of pleasure spread up his body from his sensitive ass. Jimmy had no idea how much his cock was stimulating Avery’s prostate, making him writhe atop Jimmy’s rod. Avery’s hands explored the muscles of Jimmy’s chest. “I guess. But you could always do that, Jimmy.”
“What?”
“You could have made up a woman paying you for sex anytime. You could have made that up yesterday. You don’t need me to make that okay,” Avery said. His voice wavered and broke, as bliss flowed through his veins. His own cock throbbed in his hand.
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so. But this way, maybe people will believe me,” Jimmy said.
Avery didn’t see the logic of that, but he didn’t want to argue about it. He just said okay and kept riding his dick. Jimmy was on the verge of orgasm too. His veiny cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s ass.
“Hey do you know Terry?”
“What?”
“He’s my neighbor. He’s weird,” Jimmy said. He blushed even deeper red — Avery got the feeling Jimmy responded to anxiety (and everything else) by talking, that was why he was rambling. Jimmy frowned. “He always looks at me… Do you think he’d pay me too? I could do this again. He’s kinda… old. He’s like forty.”
“I don’t know him, Jimmy. You could ask. He might do it,” Avery said. “Now be quiet so you can cum.”
After a pause, Jimmy said, “I can cum when I talk. I talk a lot during sex. My girlfriend said I talk too much-“
“You do. She was right. Hush,” Avery said, his eyes closed, both hands massaged Jimmy’s flexing pecs. “If you’re gonna talk, it’s gotta be dirty talk.” He wanted to explain further and get Jimmy to do some dirty talk — he got the feeling Jimmy would giggle through it, but it would be fun to try. But the pressure and incipient orgasm in his ass made it impossible to focus.
“Oh, right. Like this…” He cleared his throat. “Oh, god, baby, yeah…” He kept laughing through his “dirty-talk”, which ruined the dirtiness of it.
Then, as though he was utterly shocked by it, Jimmy orgasmed. His laugh cut off in the middle, and his muscles all tensed at once. His face was tight and pinched like he was in agonizing pain. He looked at Avery for the first time since this had begun.
Avery climaxed too, shooting his load into the palm of his hand, some of it spilling onto Jimmy’s chest. A giant wad of cum filled up his ass, spraying jet after jet of creamy hot cum into his insides. Avery squirmed and gasped, his hands caressing Jimmy’s taut muscles.
Their simultaneous orgasms lasted what felt like forever to Avery. He loved getting plowed by straight boys. There was nothing better, he thought as he exulted in the unkempt scent of Jimmy’s body and the feel of his sticky cum seeping into Avery’s flesh. Jimmy shot a huge load, his whole body shaking, hair flying back and forth like a shaggy dog drying itself.
“Hell yeah…” Jimmy said with a tight grunt. He screwed up his eyes when he saw Avery’s cupped hand, in which he caught his own jizz, overflowed, meaning Avery’s cum coated Jimmy’s belly and ribs. “Ewww…” Jimmy said, but he was still moaning from the sensations in his cock too, as he spewed his last few drops of jizz up Avery’s guts.
Finally it was done. To tease Jimmy, Avery remained on his cock, shifting his hips back and forth. Every motion sent a wave of staggering pleasure through Jimmy’s body, making his muscles ripple, his scruffy hair tremble, his upper lip shake. Jimmy groaned, his face remaining a bright red dappled with sweat.
Jimmy opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a wordless moan. Avery giggled. He bent down and kissed each of Jimmy’s nipples, then pulled off his dick. Jimmy sighed grandly, his whole body spasming at Avery’s touch, and he limply flopped onto the bench press beneath him.
“Thanks, Jimmy. That was really hot…”
Avery looked for some tissues to clean himself and Jimmy with, but there were none in the living room. He found some paper towels in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but peer into the refrigerator too — it was a standard bachelor fridge, nothing but condiments, beer, hot dogs and leftover pizza. Avery slipped another fifty dollar bill in the fridge and added a note that read use this to buy real food, Jimmy. He left it unsigned, figuring Jimmy would probably think it a message from God.
He went back out to the living room. Jimmy’s body gleamed with sweat, but he had wiped the jizz off himself with his tee shirt, which now lay on the floor. He was limp all over, half-asleep. He grumbled when Avery wiped his dick off with a moistened paper towel. He lifted his head enough to watch Avery handle his meaty shaft, then laid back down.
He seemed to have totally forgotten about the money. Avery could have just walked right out. But he didn’t. He placed five hundred dollar bills on Jimmy’s pecs.
“Bye, Jimmy. Good luck.”
He lazily lifted one hand to wave goodbye. “Later, dude. Come by and see me again sometime.”

The Hobo

Carlos goes to a legendary homeless encampment in order to swing in the dirt with a filthy hobo named Tommy. He’s filthy, he’s drunk and he’s willing to let Carlos service his nasty homeless body.

Can Carlos get the raunchy manmeat he craves?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Father Carlos brought food to the hobo encampment called Ditchway, out by the interstate in Jackson, Mississippi, but he didn’t wear his collar. The hardscrabble men who swamped the area from the hardware store parking lot to the highway tolerated him because he brought food, but it didn’t stop them from demanding other things. Mainly malt liquor, sometimes just plain cash. They lived in tents and cardboard boxes, strewn with radios and clothes hung up to dry like in a prison cell. Interspersed here and there were overturned shopping carts, municipal trash cans and legions of scavenged buckets, barrels and crates of all kinds.
But since he didn’t bring any alcohol or give them any cash, most of them left pretty soon after the meal. They headed off to panhandle during the evening rush hour. That left Carlos with Tommy Weathers, one of those poor benighted souls who live here. He was sober for now, but Tommy fully intended for that to be a temporary condition
Tommy was a broad shouldered white man with skin tanned brown as a Mexican, or a Texan at least. He was dirty, like all the rest, with greasy hair and smudges of filth all over his skin. He wasn’t exactly skinny, but he was lean, ropy-muscled and long-limbed, with a square jaw and deep-set, dark green eyes. He spoke with the accent of his native South Carolina, with a Low Country drawl that Carlos found alluring.
“I’s homeless on ‘ccount of my lying bitch of an ex-wife. Glenda Shay, that’s what she go by now. Got remarried, to an ‘ccountant who talks like a fuckin’ college professor. Glenda Shay. You know that bitch?”
“Uh… no.”
“If’n you evuh meet her, suh, you run far away,” he said. He ate the last of his hot dog and licked the ketchup off his fingertips. That’s what Carlos had brought him. He paid for it with his own money, not church funds. “I love ketchup. I put it on e’rything at the soup kitchen. I even put some in dat minestrone-” he pronounced it minnuhstrahn, as he licked ketchup out of his unkempt gray-tinged beard — “did that in lockup, yessuh. Pissed off this one off’cer so bad he swipe my head off. Said ya can’t put ketchup in soup. I lodge a complaint, suh, cuz I gots mah pride, even in lockup, yessuh, and I gots rights. I ain’t no Commie, ‘fter all. Ronald Reagan won, y’know. Dat guard gots an offishul reprimand, sho’ nuff, yessuh. I gots a right to put ketchup in dat minestrone.”
“Uh-huh. Ketchup in your minestrone, huh? I’ve never tried that. I think they put tomato paste in the broth anyway-“
“Mah mama always done say I eat so much ketchup mah head gonna turn into a tomatah, yessuh, she was a real saint, y’know. She always stand by me even when I get in trouble, yessuh.”
“Uh-huh-“
“But she pass on couple years back. I reckon it was for the best, she had dat livuh cancer, on ‘ccount of her drinkin’ like a Texan, y’know,” he said.
“Right.”
“Lordy, if she knew I was livin’ in the hobo camp with dem colored boys and a Chinaman, she would be rollin’ ovuh in dat grave,” he said.
“Sure, sure.” Carlos would have reprimanded him about his language if he was here in an official capacity. That’s why Carlos had come all the way to the far side of Jackson, Mississippi. He didn’t want to meet anyone he knew as a priest. Carlos was not here in a priestly capacity, and he didn’t have to correct the man. “So, uh, you don’t have a girlfriend or anythin’?”
“Girlfriend? What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout? Hobos don’t got girlfriends. There’s a female I know, she suck my dick sometime. She a whore though. She suck me off for free. She say I’m cute,” he said, beaming, showing off his gap-toothed grin. “But she ain’t been ‘round much no mo’. She got a pimp, say she can’t be givin’ out no freebies. He a black man, ya see. They don’t like dat. I ain’t prejudice. Just speakin’ the God’s honest truth.”
“Uh-huh.” Carlos cleared his throat. “You wanna bust a nut?”
“‘Course. You got a female?”
“I’ll give you five hundred bucks if you treat me like one. Treat me like a filthy whore,” Carlos said. His heart skipped a beat as Tommy looked him up and down.
He burped and frowned. “Five hun’red bucks is a lotta money,” he said. “You got beer?”
“No. You gotta do it before you start drinking,” Carlos said.
He nodded. “Fine. If you stiff me, I’s gonna rip yo’ goddamn head off.”
“Yes, sir,” Carlos said. His heart skipped a beat. He got on his knees in front of Tommy, who sat on the dirt in the woody copse of trees by the highway. Just twenty yards to the east was the onramp, and maybe fifty yards to the north was the highway itself. Cars whizzed by. The foliage was dense along the road though, with forsythia bushes in full bloom providing dense cover and rendering this piece of wilderness cut off from the outside world. A couple dozen tents and sleeping bags were scattered around, and the remains of two campfires. Empty bottles of liquor and abandoned crackpipes lay scattered like headstones after a tornado.
Tommy burped up a rancid smell, then apologized. Carlos ignored it. He undid Tommy’s belt and made him lift his ass up so Tommy could lower his pants. His fat cock flopped out of his tattered prison-issue boxer shorts.
“Hang on just a moment, suh, I gotta beg fo’ forgiveness fo’ mah everbegottened lusts,” Tommy said. He moved his dick out of the way at the last moment as Carlos tried to take it in his mouth. Tommy closed his eyes and looked up at the sky. He clasped his hands together and murmured a prayer. Carlos didn’t hear the words, he just sat quietly watching Tommy’s greasy dick sway between his legs. His mouth watered like a hungry dog.
It felt good that nobody knew he was a priest. He didn’t have be in charge, didn’t have to report anything to the archbishop, didn’t have to be the voice of moral clarity. He could just be. He didn’t pray. Carlo kneeled before Tommy’s cock, which dangled and sway as he prayed in a rumbling murmur that Carlos didn’t hear.
Then at last Tommy finished praying. He smiled down at Carlos and flopped his dick between his fingers. Then he thwacked it over Carlos’s face.
“God say it’s alright, cuz I gots a need, man,” Tommy said. “I got real pain, and I gotta do what I gotta do. He do want me to get a promise from you though.”
“Oh, what?”
“Go to church,” he said.
“Oh…”
“Just go one time,” he said. “God will forgive you your trespasses, suh. He always do.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go,” Carlos said. His heart quickened, because he felt like he was getting away with something not mentioning that he was a priest. Normally it was all anybody could see him as. They only ever spoke to him as a priest, even in a casual setting. This was the first time in a long time he’d spoke to someone who didn’t know.
“Alright. If He can forgive me, suh, He can forgive you, fo’ sho’,” he said. “You get a man off good? Wit’cha mouth? Huh?”
“Real good,” Carlos said. He licked his lips and opened his mouth as wide as possible. He wiggled his tongue right in front of Tommy’s cock.
Tommy smiled. He pushed his dick in, its limp, long shaft filling Carlos’s mouth with raunchy, sweaty flesh. It tasted like soil: dry, dusty, infertile dirt, but with a thick, greasy texture that Carlos loved. He felt a shiver of desire run through him. His heart raced as fast as the cars flying by just past the trees and forsythias that lined the hobo camp.
He opened his throat and let that deliciously nasty cock slide down it. Sometimes jerking off hobos was a double-edged sword — all that nastiness and filthy Carlos craved made them unhealthy, cocks unable to get hard (especially if they smoked crack). But Tommy was not a crackhead, and his dick popped right into full erection in Carlos’s mouth. It tasted stale but warm and savory, yeasty like good bread or bad beer. He sniffed deeply of it like a sacraent.
“Ooh, boy, you handle my dick nice, damn, that feels good,” Tommy said with a hoot. He pulled out a ziploc baggie filled with cigarette butts he had scavenged from a public ashtray. He lit one that still had a good half-inch of unsmoked cigarette. He took a deep breath and exhaled it right into Carlos’s face.
The acrid smoke brought tears to his eyes, as did lack of oxygen as he kept guzzling down cockmeat. Carlos pushed his head down until his nose nuzzled Tommy’s unkempt pubic bush. Tommy gasped like he was surprised, and a shiver of pleasure visibly shook his spine. Tommy licked his teeth.
“Damn, boy, you swallow like a sissy in prison, hell yeah,” Tommy said. He groaned as he took a deep breath. Then he grabbed Carlos’s ears and pulled his head off his cock. “Hey. Can I throat down ya face, boy? You okay wit’ dat?”
“Yes, please do,” Carlos said through his gasps for air.
“You nasty,” he said. He dropped the cigarette butt, smoked down to the filter, on the muddy ground. Then he stood up. He gave his dick one stroke and then grabbed Carlos by the ear again. “Open up.”
He fed his dick down Carlos’s throat inch by inch. When he got almost the whole thing down there, Carlos instinctively choked and sputtered. Tommy gripped his ears tighter and shook his head, causing a torrent of more choking.
“Nah, open up, you payin’ fo’ it, now take it,” Tommy said through his thin lips. He closed his eyes and groaned, his hips gyrating as he slammed his dick in.
At last that entire shaft throbbed in Tommy’s throat. Precum flowed like water from a hose, coating his entire gullet. It had a thick texture and a savory flavor that made Tommy crave more.
Tommy grumbled. “Don’t get the wrong impression ‘bout me, suh. I ain’t ram no sissy in prison, no sir. That’s just an ‘xpression I learned, and I ain’t nevuh ramrod no one in prison neither. God don’t like ugly. So that’s what I, uh… My time behind bars was a time of spirit’al reflection, suh, and I used that time to get closuh to God hisself. God is, uh, there… in, uh… God is in a’rrything, you know. In the soul of the…” He blinked and twitched as another surge of pleasure visibly wafted through the taut musculature. He must have forgot the point he had been failing to make. “Prison food was real bad, suh, you don’t even know.”
He kept talking about God and his time in prison, but he continued to lose track of his thoughts as well. He seemed to almost forget that his dick was in Carlos’s throat until there was a tiny bit of give, and Carlos almost backed off. Then he growled, grabbed Carlos’s ears again and held on tight as he moved his hips in circles, hitting every corner of Carlos’s throat.
“Reckon there was a lot of sissies in lockup, yessuh, you prolly know some of ‘em. Like a Julius. You know Julius…? I dunno his last name. Got big soft lips. I rammed him one time cuz he ast me to,” Tommy said.
He didn’t give Carlos time to actually answer whether or not he knew Julius. Carlos was more focused on working that greasy dickshaft to full tumescence. It was now moist with clumps of spit and precum. The dusty hobo camp ground beneath Tommy’s feet was turning wet with all the fluids that dripped from Carlos’s mouth.
“Keep yer mouth open, boy,” Tommy said. He pulled away and used his fingers to keep Carlos’s mouth open even as Carlos heaved and writhed, grabbing for air. “Gonna give you a prison-kiss. This is how the Mexicans show they love in lockup, man,” he said. He pursed his lips like he was going to kiss, but then just filled his own mouth with saliva and spat into Carlos’s open gullet. His spit tasted like dirt and made Carlos moan with desire. Tommy spat again, then again, this time making sure it landed right on Carlos’s nose, a hot stinking puddle of alpha male redneck nastiness stinking up his nostrils.
Carlos inhaled deeply of it, his mind swimming from lack of oxygen and intense arousal. Tommy didn’t wait long before pushing his dick back in again.
“We call dat throat lube, suh, yes we do,” Tommy said. He cackled and resumed drilling Carlos’s throat. “Get yo’ head down on the ground then, suh, if’n ya please. Get real low in the dirt.”
Carlos laid on his back on the ground. Tommy mounted his head, aiming his dick down so he could just lower himself as well. He was virtually laying down now, with his cock aimed down Carlos’s throat.
And then he began humping. He gyrated his hips like he was fucking an actual pussy, while Carlos’s spit-slickened throat allowed him to get his entire dick down there once more. Tommy’s nasty, sweat-dripping balls landed on Carlos’s nose, so Carlos was overwhelmed by a torrent of raunch covering every part of his face. All he could see was the filth and the hair of Tommy’s balls, taint and asscheeks.
Eventually Tommy pulled off. He looked disappointed in himself. “You want me to get you up the ass too, right?”
“Yeah…” Carlos was too starved for oxygen to say anything else. He gasped. “Can I… Can I lick your ass first?”
Tommy stopped moving and his smile turned into a frown. He furrowed his brow like he was trying to understand Carlos. “You wanna lick hobo ass?”
“God yes, please…” Carlos felt like crying. He was on his knees, so his head lined up with Tommy’s ass anyway. He stuck his nose in the air and sniffed the raunchy ass scent. It was almost enough to make him cum.
“Fine. But just for a minute or two, that’s nasty,” Tommy said with pursed lips, like he was seriously annoyed with Carlos for asking.
Carlos tried to separate Tommy’s cheeks, but Tommy just unceremoniously sat. He didn’t even lower himself slowly, he let Carlos stick his face in Tommy’s hairy ass and then sat down. He squatted like he was about to do a high jump, and most of his weight was on Carlos’s face.
Carlos had no idea how long the rimjob lasted. He was so overwhelmed by the suddenness of it and by the weight of Tommy’s body on his face that he was dizzy from the moment it began. Unfiltered masculine scents assaulted his nostrils. It smelled like dirty underwear or like a crowd of men, like an entire worksite’s worth of men all sitting on his face at once.
His tongue pushed past the layer of thick hair in Tommy’s asscrack. He groaned and moaned, and he even began rubbing his own dick through his jeans — a lot of men were annoyed by the sight of men masturbating, so Carlos kept it low-key. It didn’t look like Tommy really noticed anyway.
“You one nasty freak,” Tommy said with a laugh that shook his entire wiry frame. His ropy thigh muscles trembled, asscheeks flexing around Carlos’s tongue as though he was trying to hold onto it. His voice wavered as he spoke, when a surge of pleasure wracked his body from his prostate to his neck.
Carlos gurgled, letting a big mouthful of spit fill Tommy’s ass before it overflowed back onto Carlos’s face. Carlos groaned. His hands roamed over Tommy’s dick, the veiny shaft spasming beneath his fingers.
Tommy groaned like he was surprised at how good this felt. He murmured incomprehensibly to himself, and he rubbed his ass all over Carlos’s tongue. He moved it up and down, penetrating himself in his asshole with Carlos’s muscular tongue, which grew to be coated with Tommy’s masculine funk. His ass was taut and firm as iron, cuz he ate so little, but it was also strong, cords of firm muscles etched into his tight frame.
“Damn, you one nasty-ass boi,” Tommy said with a cackle. He stood up and pushed Carlos to roll over. “Lemme get in dat ass. Open up. I say open up. Get yer head down in the muck. That’s where God wants ya till you get forgiveness.”
He pushed Carlos’s face into the mud and aimed his dick right for Carlos’s ass. He groaned when it slid in and a bolt of pain erupted in Carlos’s body. As he always did it, he gritted his teeth as he struggled to bear it.
But at last the pain melted away into a tense, uncontrollable pleasure that spread through his body like a convulsion. Tommy was relentless, completely ignoring Carlos’s struggle and his body’s instinctive resistance.
“You want it, suh? Huh? You really like this?”
“Yes, please, god, stick it in me…” Carlos said with a moan, choking on a mouth full of mud and cigarette butts.
“Don’t you dare ask God fo’ dat, suh, I can still walk ‘way. Ain’t gonna tol’rate ya disrespectin’ God,” he said. He stopped moving with his dick deep in Carlos’s ass, hand holding onto Carlos’s hair. Tommy frowned down at Carlos. “Ain’t no man’s dick worth ya eternal soul, young man-“
“Okay, yes, I’m sorry. I won’t use the Lord’s name in… whatever. Please just get back to it me, Tommy, go at me as hard as you can,” Carlos said breathlessly.
“I will,” Tommy said. He sniffled. He laid his wiry chest on Carlos’s back and pounded away. He groaned and grunted right into Carlos’s ear, and he cackled with laughter again as he rubbed muddy dirt into Carlos’s face. “You like it dirty, right? Ain’t you say dat? Take some dirt then, suh. Open up.”
He shoved clumps of dirt into Carlos’s mouth, making him gag and sputter as he tried to jack himself off. Carlos couldn’t reach his own crotch though. All he could do was submit to Tommy’s frenzied pounding, his drilling away at Carlos’s asshole.
“Ew, what the fuck-?”
“Aw damn, that is some nasty shit right there.”
“I knew he weren’t just comin’ up in he’e to give up some food. I tol’ you dat.”
“You said he was gonna try ‘nd fuck Lisa wit’out payin’.”
A foursome of hobos had appeared in the woods, having returned from panhandling. They all groaned like they were disgusted by Carlos getting it up the ass from Tommy, but no one turned around or even faced a different direction. They seemed both disgusted and excited by it.
“Aw fuck, go ‘way, guys, I’m… busy, alright?” Tommy blushed, but he didn’t stop. “Hey where mah money at?” he asked Carlos. He didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed Carlos’s wallet out of his pants, then pulled out the five hundred dollars in it, as well as the spare fifty bucks that Carlos kept hidden. He swiped the three crackpipes sitting in the dirt. Then he gave one of the other hobos some money, all without missing a beat or slowing down his deep-dicking. “Go get us whiskey. I got all yo’ crackpipes so don’t you dare blow it all on crack. You can buy one rock wit’ dat, bring it back and share it. The whiskey is just for me, but we celebrate this filthy bitch wit’ some crack.” He smacked Carlos’s ass. “Ya got it?”
Yo, gimme some mo’ of dat money-
“Nah, I’s the one gettin’ paid,” Tommy said. “It’s my money. I’s puttin’ my eternal soul at risk by doin’ the nasty wit’ a male. Go on then, get some whiskey and crack and I gonna keep us in clover for a week wit’ this cash. Maybe longer if’n I wreck this man’s ass so good he keep comin’ back for more.”
The hobos grumbled, but took the money and walked away. Tommy scoffed and spat at them. “Fuckin’ pieces of shit, man, I swear. They ain’t God-fearin’ like me,” he said. He looked at Carlos then like this was the first time he had really seen him. He peered into his eyes. “You really enjoyin’ yerself, ain’t ya?”
“Yeah…” Carlos gasped. He managed to finish himself off then, blowing a massive load of cum into the dirt. His whole body tensed as waves of bliss spread through. His fingers and toes tighteneed, and Carlos gasped. He shot a bigger load than he had ever seen.
“Reckon I don’t ‘pprove. When I was growin’ up, a man’d only take it up behind as a punishment, like in boot camp. That’s how my pa raised me — he was a drill sergeant: strict but fair,” Tommy said. “Now this part is gonna hurt, suh. Here, you can bite on my arm.” He placed his smudged forearm in front of Carlos’s mouth.
Carlos knew he could take it, but he nibbled on the worn flesh there, feeling the toned muscles underneath the skin. Tommy sped up his rhythm, groaning and grunting with each flex of his hips.
The pain did grow worse, and Carlos bit down hard enough that he tasted a single drop of coppery blood. Tommy didn’t seem to notice; he just slammed his hips, ramming his dick all the way in as he nutted. His balls crawled up in his sac. A shudder of pain or desire or disgust ran up Tommy’s body.
A load of rancid hobo cum filled Carlos’s ass, a big arcing jet of juices that seeped into his flesh. It was hot and thick, sticky, clinging to every inch of Carlos’s body. Carlos groaned.
It was the most intense orgasm of Carlos’s life, while Tommy reacted as though it was a painful climax. He grunted and snorted, sniffling like an angry bull. He spat over and over onto the back of Carlos’s neck, while grinding his cock so deeply in Carlos’s ass that Carlos couldn’t help but bite down hard on Tommy’s forearm.
Carlos finally stopped squirming. He sighed, totally spent, his gaping ass now in utter submission to Tommy’s rapidly limpening manhood.
“Alright, suh, I’s done,” Tommy said. “Reckon I cornholed you good, right? You ain’t feel cheated, right? You got yer money’s worth?”
“Yeah…” Carlos was too overwhelmed by sensations in his asshole to really respond. He moaned.
“Good. I ain’t wanna cheat ya.” He pulled out and sighed. He stroked his slimy dick, using a hand to get all of those nasty fluids off. He wiped it onto Carlos’s bare ass. He wrinkled his nose. He sat back in the dirt, his spent dick and low-hanging balls dragging in the mud between his legs. He frowned. “I gotta take a piss. You into piss?”
“Uh, no thanks,” Carlos said. He was exhausted, and he was worried about those other hobos now that they knew he could afford to pay Tommy five hundred dollars. Who knew what they might do when they came back with alcohol and crack?
So Carlos just hurried up and got dressed. His body was covered in mud and redneck sweat, not to mention cum still dripping down his ass. Tommy ignored him as he pissed into the rancid dirt of the Ditchway homeless encampment. He looked like he was getting antsy waiting for his whiskey and crack.
“Wait, suh,” Tommy said before Carlos left. “Lemme do one more thing, so anyone who smell you know you’s my bitch.” He pried Carlos’s jaw open, then spat a stinking load of saliva into Carlos’s mouth. “Don’t you go payin’ some other hobo for dick. You come back to me, suh. Ya hear? You mine now.”
“Okay. Yes, sir, I promise,” Carlos said as he walked away, his mouth gurgling over the fetid wad of saliva on his tongue. Despite that, he had no plans on coming back. If he did, sooner or later someone would identify him, and Carlos didn’t want that.
Next time, he’d hafta find a different source of raunchy alpha male men who don’t know him. Luckily, there was a whole world of rough trade out there, and Carlos was eager to get started.

The Gas Mask

When Rashid sees a gas mask, it arouses strange feelings in him, feelings that he can’t help but act on! That means this alpha male bouncer at a nightclub is gonna bend over and take whatever his buddy Teddy will give him.

Can Rashid handle the liberation the gas mask inspires in him?

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

Rashid Jenkins sighed. He was always glad when he got through another shift at the nightclub without seeing anything he couldn’t unsee. Rashid had been a bouncer for pretty much his entire adult life — when he wasn’t in prison for a spell — and he was working now at one of the highest-paying clubs in the city. So he was glad to have the job, even if it made him uncomfortable.
It was unfortunate that it was a Leathertop Nightclub, which was part of the kink-and-fetish scene. That meant the freaks came dressed in black leather and the waitresses went into the back and wielded whips and chains, tying down the customers and doing… well, Rashid didn’t entirely know what they did, because he was a god-fearing man. He tried not to think about it, and he never went past the front room.
The front room itself was just a normal bar, and it was there that Rashid went at the end of the night. He had taken to getting a drink from Teddy, the bartender, who was a flat-leaf, limp-wrist sissy hunk of honey. Rashid made sure to snarl and look dour every time he sat down because he didn’t want Teddy to think he was friendly.
Bouncers aren’t sposedta be friendly.
The bar emptied early tonight. As it neared closing time, the last of the customers either left or went into a backroom with a waitress/dominatrix. Only one waitress remained, the plump white one with leather straps separating her fat into foldy chunks — Ellendra. Rashid gave her a polite nod but no smile — he don’t want her thinking he’s flirting — and he sat down at the freshly-wiped bar. Teddy slammed his cell phone onto the counter. He bit his lip and held back tears, his elfin face scrunched up tight.
“Hi, Rashid,” Teddy said, his high voice nasal with repressed tears. “Bourbon?”
Rashid nodded. His heart stumbled as he realized he was supposed to ask what was wrong — he wasn’t expecting emotions in a bar like this. Not like that. That’s… He wrinkled his nose. Honkies, man… Honkies be tripping. He tried to stand up on a look both kind and unapproachable, but that’s a hard face to pull off.
The bar was empty, and Teddy’s tears were blatant. Not acknowledging it was awkward. “What’s… uh, wrong?” Rashid finally asked, when that fat waitress was gone. She oughta have handled this, Rashid thought. She was a woman, Rashid was just a bouncer.
The bartender sposedta be like a therapist, right? At least in the movies. Who’s the bartender’s sounding board? Who therapizes the therapist?
Rashid, apparently.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Teddy said, lips pursed so it was clear that that wasn’t true and that he would be explaining shortly. “My girlfriend dumped me. By text message. Not that that’s a problem, she’s a bitch. She’s a rank bitch.”
“Oh, okay. Uh… Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s not a problem,” Teddy said, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice broke, letting out a jagged cry of saprotude — that’s an emotion combining anger, sadness and self-righteousness, common in people who have been dumped. He sniffled and crossed his arms over his chest, tapping his feet like he was about to explode. Then he remembered he was pouring Rashid a glass of bourbon, so he got out the bottle and spilled several shots worth before he got the glass set up. “I knew it! She deserves to be alone though. That fucking bitch!” He slammed the bourbon in front of Rashid. He had put way too much ice in it, but Rashid didn’t want to complain.
He just sipped his ice-cold bourbon. There was a gas mask on the bar, which drew his attention. Rashid didn’t like to see the fetish gear normally, because it reminded him that he was surrounded by freaks. But the gas mask didn’t seem as bad — it had a function, after all, besides sex, even if it was an old-fashioned design that would probably be useless today for actual protection against poison gas attacks. It was fetish gear, but it seemed more appropriate, maybe even less sinful to Rashid.
That wasn’t logical, but it made sense somewhere in his heart.
And it did look like a real gas-mask, just old and battered, cuz it had been in this fetish club for who-knows-how long. It wasn’t manufactured as fetish gear, he was sure of that. Rashid wondered if it had ever been used. Did they use gas masks like that in… maybe Vietnam? World War 2 for sure, but it wasn’t that old.
Maybe.
“Girls are such a pain in the ass. They’re weak-willed, you know…”
“Yeah.”
“My last girlfriend dumped me and then immediately went out and sucked off like ten guys,” Teddy said. He threw his hands up, pacing behind the bar. “I really know how to pick ‘em!”
Rashid winced and shook his head. The television screens behind Teddy all turned on, playing porno. Now that they were closed, the monitors should have stayed off, but sometimes they came off and on. They were linked to the lights in the back or something. Rashid’s eyes were drawn to the screen. His dick got hard in his pants as he half-listened to Teddy.
The woman on screen was blonde, beautiful as hell from the back — she got that white-girl ass that Rashid craves — but she got kinduva dumptrucky face. Whatever though, Rashid could fuck her from behind. He was so engrossed in that that he ignored whatever else Teddy was saying, his relentless bitching about his girlfriend.
His attention only returned to Teddy when the porno movie onscreen revealed itself to be bondage-themed. Rashid had no interest in that. The camera lingered on the knots and the rope pulling itself taut, her skin pressing against it hard. Rashid’s eyes and ears tuned back into Teddy’s ongoing litany of complaints.
“And girls will not shut up!” Teddy said. “She never shut her mouth, not even when my father was telling us about his prostate cancer. I mean, am I right or what? He’s going off about the side effects of chemo, and she suddenly brings up some stupid reality show about penguin researchers banging each other in Antarctica.”
“Yeah…-” Rashid said with a shrug he hoped was both kind and dismissive. His attention was now drawn away the TV screens playing porno and the milky rope-clad tits jiggling up and down. — instead, Rashid’s attention aimed itself at that damn gas mask.
Who wore it in the backrooms? The man or the woman? The fact that it was here now suggested a woman. If a man wore it, he’d have brought it himself and taken it with him when he left for the night.
So a woman wore it. While she got fucked. Massive cock ramming into her pussy or maybe her tight ass.
Prolly not a massive cock. Prolly a normal honky peter. Rashid got a massive cock, but he assumed mosta the tubby crackers who come through his place had small manhoods.
“I’m sorry,” Teddy said, biting back tears. He bit his lip. “I’m just really upset right now. Have another bourbon.”
He slid a glass down the bar to Rashid, who was glad to have some more liquid to drown out the ice in his first bourbon. He sipped it and tried to watch the porno behind Teddy, forcing his eyes to lock on to the beautiful brunette’s bouncing tits and plump pussy onscreen. His dick was raging hard.
But what he really wanted right now was that gas-mask. It prolly smelled awful, he thought. Awful but in a good way. Awful like a slut’s pussy. A clean slut, but still, a slut’s pussy. Right after a shower in her filthy apartment bathroom. Yeah…
“I need to get laid,” Teddy said, blinking the last of his tears out of his eyes. He sniffled. “I won’t get over this without blowing a nut tonight. I won’t be able to sleep, I’ll just be tossing and turning, thinking of her.” He hurriedly typed out a text message, presumably asking someone if she could come over for sex. Maybe one of the waitresses. Rashid was glad that Teddy was getting ready to leave. Rashid wished he could leave too, but his shift didn’t technically end until he escorted Teddy to his car. Closing time was literally one minute ago, so he couldn’t hardly complain.
Then Teddy threw his cell phone down on the counter again. He had gotten a text message he didn’t like, it seemed. He blinked back another wave of tears. “Those bastards,” he said. “Everyone’s taking her side.”
“Sorry, man,” Rashid said. A thought had occurred to him: he could plow Teddy.
Teddy did that, he was like that, a bit of a sissy. A small bit of a big sissy. He was petite and pale and kinda effeminate in his way. Rashid could always make Teddy keep it a secret, and he could deny it when Teddy inevitably spilled the beans. Teddy had spilled the beans last week that one of the other bouncers ramrodded him — this old head Thumper, he was like that, Rashid wasn’t surprised at all.
And there was that gas mask sitting right there. He didn’t even understand why that was a kink — the bondage stuff he got, because there was a level of interaction there, it had an impact on the orgasm. Orgasms with a gas mask on were the same as orgasms without a gas mask on, except maybe a little stuffier and weirder.
But why was it so arousing?
Rashid hadn’t even heard Teddy rant for the last few minutes, but apparently his booty calls all told him not to come over. Possibly even his male friends had sent discourteous texts, Rashid hadn’t paid attention and now it seemed rude to reveal that by asking what happened. As Teddy shut down the bar, he raged over each text message he received.
It seemed Teddy’s friends were really his girlfriend’s friends. That happens, a lot of men are like that. Not Rashid. He got his own niggas. When he hooks up with a female, she got her friends, he got his. Women on her side, men on Rashid’s. Simple, easy, copacetic. All good.
Bet that gas-mask would make a man feel good. Covers up the face. No inhibitions. Rashid looked away from the gas-mask but just for a moment.
Rashid did time in prison. He knew damn well how bad it hurt to take a cock in the ass, though he never let it happen to him. He saw it plenty, this rat-face nigga named Ratty rapping on a nigga backdoor. Ratty was like that.
Yet he sensed that it might feel good for a sissy like Teddy. Rashid’d never admit to that, not publicly.
But if the gas mask was on Teddy’s face… that wouldn’t be public at all. It would be like nobody saw, not even Teddy. Rashid could just feel. Nobody would believe Teddy if he said Rashid let him ramrod him with a gas mask on. Rashid couldn’t stop thinking about how it’d feel if Teddy’s cock came pushing into his ass, not like Ratty’s nasty crackhead pecker, Teddy’s dick wouldn’t be like that at all. It’d be clean and gentle…
Rashid gulped.
Teddy scowled and blushed a bright red. He looked down at the counter he had been polishing for an unreasonable amount of time. The bar was shut down, all he had to do was press the total button on the register and take the cash drawer into the office to lock away in the safe. He set about doing that.
“Uh… Teddy,” Rashid said, looking around to be sure nobody was around. “You know… I uh, I sometimes mess around on the downlow. If you promise not to tell no one…”
Teddy’s eyes lit up. “Really?!”
Rashid stood up and grabbed the gas mask. “Here,” he said. “Put this on. If you cover up your face, I might be able to forget you’re not a girl,” he said. “But when this is done, you better stop crying about that ex. She ain’t worth it.”
Teddy dropped to his knees next to the stool Rashid sat on. He didn’t even put the cash drawer away, he placed it on the floor next to himself, so he could rush right into it. He pulled down Rashid’s pants so quickly and so enthusiastically that Rashid was unsure if he wanted to do this. He considered backing out.
But his worries vanished moments later when his dick flopped out in the warm, humid air of the nightclub, then filled Teddy’s throat. The familiar warmth of an expert mouth filled up Rashid’s mind, and he sighed. He finished the last of his bourbon, and he filled the glass again quietly so Teddy wouldn’t notice.
His dick swelled to full erection. Rashid guided Teddy’s head up and down, glad to have the opportunity for a simple, consequence-free orgasm. His mouth stretched to swallow Rashid’s fat meat, and with a little concentration, Teddy managed to deep-throat him to the root.
A sigh escaped from Rashid’s mouth. He needed this. And he didn’t need the gas-mask.
He kept sneaking glances at it though.
Sensing he needed to commiserate more, Rashid said, “Girls complain all the time, and they never tell you what they think. If they wanna dump you, they drag it out over like ten conversations over three months, like they get paid by the minute, man.” As he talked, he guided Teddy’s head up and down on his shaft.
From his cock-filled murmurings, it didn’t sound like Teddy exactly bought Rashid’s explanation, but he didn’t stop jerking to argue. Rashid groaned as pleasure rocked his body. His cock was rock-hard now, throbbing, precum flowing onto Teddy’s tongue.
“Damn… ” Rashid said, snorting back laughter. He poured out some more bourbon, and only then noticed that the porno had changed.
Rashid was surprised at how not disgusted he was. He must be getting more comfortable with freaky stuff now that he was working at a kinky club. That thought was vaguely disquieting — his pastor, Reverend Chandler, had said that might happen, and Rashid refused to believe it.
One of his hands roamed down and squeezed Teddy’s nipple. Rashid groaned when he realized what he was doing; it had been so instinctive he didn’t think about it until his hand was grasping for the breast that wasn’t there.
Then Teddy pulled off and stood up. Rashid leaned in and kissed him on the lips, again without giving it a second thought. His mind told him to pull away, to smack Teddy even, for making him do this, even if Rashid knew Teddy hadn’t made him do a damn thing. Rashid didn’t even kiss girls so soon after they sucked cock because he didn’t want to taste his own dick, which was exactly what he tasted on Teddy’s tongue.
When Rashid stopped kissing him, he looked down at his feet. He hoped Teddy didn’t say anything about that. Teddy must have sensed that desire, because he indeed said nothing. Instead, Teddy stroked both men’s cocks together, frotting with Rashid. Rashid bristled with pride at the realization that his dick was so much bigger than Teddy’s. He always liked showing it off.
Without a word of warning — with only a sly, knowing grin — Teddy put the gas mask on, again like he had sensed what Rashid wanted without Rashid saying so. Immediately the kinky porn vanished to the back of Rashid’s mind. All he could think of was how alluring Teddy’s body was. Aside from the lack of tits and vagina, he had a very girlish shape, he thought. He kissed Teddy again, this time on the smooth neck, just below the mask, and then his lips trailed down to those nipples.
“You got a nice smooth body, boi,” Rashid said with a low, seductive growl, embarrassed at himself even as he said it.
Teddy moved to turn around, but stopped as Rashid took hold of both cocks. He was enjoying this jousting, and he didn’t want it to end. Teddy’s dick pulsated beneath Rashid’s fingers, its middling thickness and pale whiteness contrasting with Rashid’s meaty member and dark brown color.
If it weren’t for that gas mask, Rashid was sure he would never have touched Teddy’s cock. He hadn’t done that since prison.
As though he wasn’t in control of his body, Rashid found that he wanted to go much further than he ever thought he would. He blamed the gas mask. Without seeing Teddy’s face, it was easier to follow his instincts, no judgmental eyes staring at him.
How had he ended up on his knees?
Rashid didn’t consciously sink to the ground, but there he was just the same.
If he wasn’t so much taller than Teddy that he had to stoop to reach his crotch, he would have started jerking him off without a second thought.
As it was, he gave it only a very brief second thought, then deep-throated Teddy to the root, swallowing every inch of his cock. He choked a little on the smooth texture and lotion-scented flavor, but something about it was deeply fulfilling for Rashid.
He moaned around the cockmeat in his mouth and gripped Teddy’s thin legs, which were smooth like a girl’s. He could really have pretended he was with a female, he thought, if it weren’t for the dick in his throat. He was surprised by how much it tasted like pussy.
The sour flavor of precum hit Rashid’s tongue, and he moaned. He wanted more. Teddy’s thin fingers gripped Rashid’s kinky hair and guided his head up and down. His breathing was loud and labored, made louder by the action of the gas mask. His trim chest heaved for breath.
His dick felt perfectly right in Rashid’s throat. It rubbed past his bristling mustache, and his heavy balls swung against Rashid’s grizzled chin. He felt weird, submitting to someone so much smaller than himself.
But it was intensely arousing too. He felt Teddy’s graceful fingers dance along his shoulders, which seemed so broad as to be superhuman in comparison with Teddy’s tiny body. Rashid had played football in high school, and he retained that beefy body shape.
The precum flowed like wine down his throat. He greedily guzzled every salty drop, no matter how it made his lips pucker and his mind race with confusion. He had never thought jerking off a man could feel so good.
Then Rashid pulled off. He looked up at Teddy’s gas mask-clad face and frowned. “I don’t know why I’m doing this…”
Teddy didn’t say anything. Rashid probably wouldn’t have been able to hear the words through the gas mask anyway, he thought, and he didn’t want to say anything.
He knew what he wanted, and it filled him with embarrassment. But he knew he would never have such a perfect opportunity to try it. So he stood, glad to show off how much bigger he was than Teddy — he didn’t feel intimidated at all, but still, it was good to remind Teddy that he wasn’t really in charge, even with the gas mask. Rashid flexed his biceps and frowned at Teddy, but his face was concealed by the mask, so it was impossible to see if Teddy was intimidated or even if he had noticed at all.
With his pants and underwear all the way around his ankles, Rashid sunk to all fours. He leaned his head near the floor to get his ass in the air.
It was too high for Teddy to get in position, but Rashid liked making him work for it. He kept his ass up, and Teddy had to get on his toes so he could align his cock with Rashid’s asshole. Rashid’s back twitched with anticipatory excitement.
But after just sliding his dick between Rashid’s cheeks for a few moments, he paused. He got down on the ground and jammed his tongue right in, smooth and unceremonious.
“Ah, fuckin’ hell, nigga…” Rashid said, then chuckled at himself for calling a whiteboi nigga — because he only ever messed around on the downlow with black men, it was just an instinct. It seemed that Teddy was too focused on licking ass to notice, however.
For a girl, a rimjob was a very big deal — Rashid loved getting rimjobs, but virtually no girls were willing to do it. When they did, they made him shower and shave his ass and shower again and get himself so clean and prepared that by the time he started, it wasn’t very sexy anymore.
So he was surprised when Teddy plunged his tongue into Rashid’s broad ass. Teddy gripped those plump cheeks and lapped at Rashid’s hole, teasing it open and loose. He growled through the gas mask, and Rashid shuddered with anticipation. Was this going to hurt? He supposed it probably would, a bit, but he still wanted to try it.
His body undulated as moist pleasure flowed from his ass and up his spine. If he wasn’t so eager to try something new, Rashid thought, he could have gotten this rimjob forever. His mind didn’t work while his prostate roared with pre-orgasmic pleasure, and his dick leaked precum into his fingers.
Then at last Teddy returned to standing on his toes with his cock resting against Rashid’s asshole, as though giving him another opportunity to change his mind. Rashid seriously considered backing out, but when he glanced behind himself and saw that gas mask, he wanted nothing more than to be penetrated.
When it happened, Rashid gasped. There was a faint, reedy twinge of pain, but even more than that, there was a sinking sensation of intense pleasure.
He bucked and moaned as Teddy used lube he pulled out from behind the bar, slickening up his cock while pushing in deeper and deeper. Rashid clenched his ass and gritted his teeth as the pressure and orgasmic bliss grew greater and greater.
Without saying a word, Teddy communicated to Rashid to roll over. He placed one delicate hand on Rashid’s back, and Rashid did as he was ordered. He laid on his back on the filthy floor, his great trunk-like thighs in the air. Teddy clutched his thick leg muscles with one hand, while his other caressed Rashid’s pecs and nipples.
He felt the orgasm approaching a few minutes before he did — it was always a surprise, of sorts, when he finally came with a girl, but this time he felt it encroaching on him even before it did. He was jacking himself off, so when his balls pulled up in his sac, he grunted and stroked more furiously.
“Ugh, nigga, yeah…” Rashid said, again forgetting he wasn’t with a black man.
Cum sprayed both within Rashid’s ass and over his chest. Teddy grunted and groaned, the sound muffled by the gas mask over his face. Rashid roiled and stroked the cum on his cockshaft into a frothy mixture that dripped into his body hair and onto the floor behind his back.
Great waves of pleasure rocketed Rashid’s body, buffeting him with feelings so intense he yelped like a girl. He was glad no one else was in the club right now to hear. His back contorted as he accepted every drop of Teddy’s creamy seed.
Teddy pulled out and sighed. He took the gas mask off, and the fantasy ended as Rashid realized where he was and what he had just done. He scurried up off the filthy floor and wiped his ass off with a napkin. His ass ached a little, but it didn’t exactly hurt.
“Uh, thanks,” Teddy said.
“Sure.” Rashid tried not to sound humiliated, and in truth, he wasn’t. He enjoyed what had happened, even if he didn’t intend to do it again (unless you can bring that gas mask home with you, a part of his mind thought but immediately pushed down). He just felt a sort of residual humiliation at the thought of Teddy going home and bragging about how he got to top a sexy big black bouncer like Rashid. “You better not tell no one,” Rashid said.
“I won’t.”
“I’ll deny it. No one will believe you,” Rashid said.
“I know,” he said. He put the gas mask down, then hesitated. He extended it towards Rashid and raised his eyebrows. “You wanna take this home with you? I’ll tell management it just disappeared.”
Rashid paused. He scowled and grabbed the gas mask. “Okay, prettyboy, if I’m going to escort you to your car, we better go now. I ain’t sitting here with a sissy like you all night. I got chicks waiting for my meat at home.”