giving someone a ride – Mansploitation

The Cuckolder

Avery runs across a handsome young black man fleeing the husband of his latest conquest, and since Tyrell seems to be in desperate need of a ride, Avery makes him an offer…

Then before he knows it, Avery is in for an incredible new adventure in man-on-man rough trade!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers sat in his car, waiting for his stupid brother-in-law to send him a stupid text message. His sister had asked him to help out with something: giving her no-good husband a ride to his boss’s house to beg for his job back. Avery didn’t like his brother-in-law Dayton, but he did love his sister. So he agreed, and now he had to sit out here in his car and wait for the all-clear to leave.
He was about to drive off regardless. If his stupid brother-in-law wanted to get picked up again, he could damn well call and ask for another favor.
Finally a text message appeared on his phone: nvrmind, thx Avary, all good. That meant Avery’s brother-in-law presumably had his job back again. Avery was glad for him, even if he did strongly dislike the man. He didn’t get why anyone would give him a second chance. He was especially annoyed that, after years in the family, his brother-in-law still didn’t know how to spell Avery’s name. What a dick.
That was when Avery saw a naked man, climbing out of the top floor of a three-story building. The man was tall and muscular, tattooed, dark-skinned, with short hair and an intensely masculine face. A very handsome face, like a movie star or a well-bred stallion. He was broad as an ox and powerfully built, stacked with muscles that he used to climb down the fire escape in the alley across the street from where Avery was parked.
He also had a huge cock. Avery could tell from here. Looked like a cricket bat dangling between his legs.
“You fuckin’ piece of shit! I’ll kill you!” A lanky middle-aged white man stuck his head out a window on the top floor and screamed down to the alley. Then he disappeared back into the apartment.
The black man was Tyrell Brickley, and he had one hand over his flopping cock and low-hanging balls as he descended the fire escape into the alley below. He assumed that would be enough to get away from the white man — husband to Tyrell’s latest conquest, whose name was Karen or Carol or something like that, some white-lady name. Not that Tyrell got anything against white ladies. He do savor them indeed.
The husband, Mr. Karen or whatever, must have come out the front door of the building, and he caught up with Tyrell around the block.
“Shit!” Tyrell turned to flee the other way. “This honky fast!”
This husband was more limber than he seemed. He had long legs and wasn’t fat like most of the husbands whose wives Tyrell seduced. Tyrell had strong legs, but he was heavy, and he was hampered by his bare feet. He wished he had managed to at least grab his shoes. The pavement here was covered in sharp stones and bits of garbage.
Reaching the next cross-street, Tyrell looked left and right, not sure where to go. Where to get clothes? Tyrell had no solution to his current predicament. His phone, his wallet, everything was back in that lady’s apartment.
Which was also the apartment of the man chasing him, which meant the husband had or would soon have Tyrell’s wallet and phone. “Shit!” Tyrell said with every step.
The sunny part of the asphalt was scorching hot on his feet, and Tyrell ran to a cooler, shaded spot. A squad car drove past, but luckily the cop behind the wheel didn’t notice Tyrell standing there in an alley. Tyrell frowned.
No cell phone, no cash, no car, no plan.
“Shit!” Tyrell snapped. “Shiiiiit!”
“Hey, man, need a ride?” Avery’s voice called out from his car, which pulled to a stop near Tyrell. He waved to get Tyrell’s attention. “Hey, man, need a ride?”
“Ah, shit, thanks, I on the wing, yoh,” Tyrell said. He darted into Avery’s car just as the husband came around the corner, peeping his head left and right like an angry meerkat. His face was red and squinty-eyed. Tyrell slammed his door shut. “Go!” Avery peeled away in a hurry, and Tyrell breathed a sigh of relief.
That sense of relief didn’t last long, however, before Tyrell realized he had gotten into a complete stranger’s car. He was naked, so he wouldn’t be robbed — he had nothing to steal. But that hardly made this safe. He had been so worried about getting away from that husband that he hadn’t made sure his sudden escape route was safe.
He looked out the car window in time to see the husband shake his fist at the car driving away. Tyrell smirked. He glanced over at the slim man behind the wheel.
“My name is Avery,” the driver said, with a feminine lilt to his voice.
“Tyrell.” Tyrell sighed and rolled his eyes. “Thanks foh the ride, Avery.” He flashed a handsome grin in Avery’s direction. Tyrell carried himself like he knew he was handsome, which made him less handsome. A lot of people would think of him as arrogant, or seemingly arrogant at least. Avery wouldn’t dispute that. But he had a fantastic body. Plenty of reason to be arrogant. Avery didn’t mind. He appreciated the male form.
Avery’s hand clasped Tyrell’s leg, giving it a squeeze. Tyrell rolled his eyes and grunted in a disagreeable way. His upper lip quivered. He acquiesced as Avery’s hand roamed up his well-muscled thigh, then ascended his chest. His muscles were firm like rocks, and his pecs flexed when Avery touched them. But he said, “Nah, man…”
“Hmm-hmm.” Avery dropped his hand back to grope Tyrell’s thigh, which he squeezed hard. “Where do you want to go?”
“Ummm… the’uh’s this place out in Crandwell,” Tyrell said, his voice lightly stawky with a trace of a drawl. It was the only place he could think of to go. His muscles flexed wherever Avery touched him. He cleared his throat. “I between places right now. I ain’t homeless or nothin’. The’uh’s this chick out in Crandwell who let me keep sum shit the’uh. I got clothes I can wear — get ya hand offa muh dick, man.”
Avery frowned. Tyrell’s cock was moist and thick, sticking to his leg. Avery had just barely brushed one hand over it to gauge Tyrell’s reaction. “Sorry. Can I touch your dick?”
“No.”
“Can you flex a bicep? You have great arms.” Avery let go of his dick.
“No.”
Avery clucked his tongue and stroked Tyrell’s bicep, which was rock-hard and bulging even though he didn’t flex it. Avery’s hand moved lower and tweaked Tyrell’s nipple. “I helped you back there, I didn’t have to. You should let me touch you…” Avery whispered. “I love your physique. You must work out a lot.”
Touching his nipple made Tyrell’s dick twitch. Tyrell assumed that Avery saw it, though Avery was actually watching the road as he got on the highway. Tyrell sighed. “Don’t read nothin’ into that, muh dick ain’t gettin’ hard, I ain’t geekin’. I just like it when girls touch muh nipples, y’know.” He chuckled throatily.
“Hmm-hmm. You’re really handsome.” Avery was annoyed that he didn’t get to grope Tyrell’s dick. He had a nice body though, and that felt great beneath Avery’s hand — even that was disappointing because Avery had to watch the road and couldn’t really see Tyrell’s frame or his flexing muscles. He could feel their firmness though, and he could sense the simmering body heat, the furnace powering his broad body.
“Yeah, whatevuh, man.” Tyrell looked out the window, ignoring Avery’s hand over his chest. “Can I use yo’ phone? Shit, nah… I donno nobody’s numbers.”
“How about… if you let me jack you off right now, I’ll let you use my phone, you can message your friends if you want, and I’ll even buy you a new phone if you can’t get your old one back,” Avery said.
“What, no shit?” Tyrell scoffed and nodded. “Hell yeah, man!”
It was only a handjob, after all, Tyrell thought. He pretended it was fine. It was fine, he assured himself over and over. There was a dude in the barbershop near where he grew up in Baltimore who used to jerk off any eighteen-year-old who wanted to bust a nut. He had been legendary, and he throated Tyrell so good Tyrell thought he broke his cock. He went all the way down! All the way!
But Tyrell was young and horny then, plus drunk. He’d only ever been with two women at that point. He had been desperately horny, and all his friends did it too. They lined up outside the man’s door one night, coming in one by one until the neighbors complained. It would have been weird to not do it at the time. He was drunk enough that it barely mattered, he didn’t even think about it at that moment, and it had only taken about two minutes (to cum, plus like twenty minutes in line).
But he had plenty of sex these days. Literally like ten minutes ago. He don’t need none that DL shit. With some freaky-ass white man who got a girl’s name.
But Tyrell did need a phone and he don’t want Avery to kick him outta the car, so he just closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His dick was soft and spongy because he had fucked that woman a couple times last night and again this morning, and his manhood was still recovering. He grinned at the thought of that tight middle-aged pussy. He loved fucking a pussy some other man thought was his.
“You fuck with a lot of married women?” Avery asked.
Tyrell scoffed. “Yo don’t even know, you don’t own a pussy, y’know, ya gotta earn it, you gotta keep earnin’ it e’ry day. Man, white men gotta have money, ya know, but they don’t realize they females is still out fuckin’ wit’ nigga dick, ya feel me?”
“Hmm-hmm…” Avery murmured. Tyrell’s dick was slow to firm up in his hand, especially since it was awkward to jack him off in a moving car while Avery drove. He put it on cruise control though, now that they were on the highway.
“You ever let a guy jack you off before?”
Tyrell nodded. “Once. I was younguh then, don’t even try nuhhin’ now,” he said. “I don’t like messin’ wiff white dudes. That other nigga got me off real gud. But the’uh was this white dude who usedta look at me all the time, man. Yo be hangin’ out in the shower ‘nd’shit, rubbin’ muh back. I know he wanted muh dick. I don’t let some white man have that over me, y’know, runnin’ around tellin’ all his little white buddies ‘bout the time he got sum nigga-dick in his mouth. Nah. No way, nigga, that ain’t how I play.”
“It sounds like you have a problem with white men,” Avery said. Tyrell’s dick was rock-hard now, veinily throbbing in Avery’s hand. A few drops of precum slipped out, lubricating him, and Tyrell sighed. His dick was exquisitely sensitive.
“I ain’t lettin’ you mouf me off neithuh,” Tyrell said because he could see Avery’s eyes flittering back again and again to stare at his dick — he knew Avery was going to try to throat it sooner or later. “Nah, I ain’t into that. Nuhhin’ personal.”
“No offense taken.”
Tyrell grabbed Avery’s hand as it stroked his dick, and he guided it up and down more quickly. “Like that, good, like that, stroke that jawn fast, dawg.” He sighed. Tyrell’s hips pumped, so he humped Avery’s hand just as much as Avery’s hand stroked him.
He was surprised at how good the handjob really was. He’d never enjoyed a handjob this much. He grunted and bit his lip. His breathing sped up as he tried to hump Avery’s hand harder, lifting his hips off the seat.
“Damn, nigga-” He choked off his own words as pre-orgasmic pleasure surged through him. He gasped.
Avery teased him by stopping, squeezing his dick but not moving his hand again — Tyrell was on the edge of his orgasm, so that made him writhe in frustration and use both of his hands to again force Avery’s hand to move once more. Avery smiled and did so, as Tyrell’s dick erupted in a torrent of cum.
“Oh fuck-!”
It sprayed all over his bare chest, coating his smooth brown skin in creamy goodness. It just kept on coming, even though he’d fucked not too long ago, he just had big dangling balls that were chock-full of creamy cum.
His wad clung to his muscles and dripped from his pecs. “Ah, shit!” Tyrell said through gritted teeth. A few beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He couldn’t believe a simple handjob felt this good, and he hoped Avery didn’t get the wrong idea about him because of it. “Ah, nice, nigga, keep strokin’… Hmmm…” He licked his lips. “Don’t leggo-” He grunted. “Stroke it real slow now, real slow…” Tyrell’s whole body undulated and he moaned, jetting out one final flow of jizz.
Avery’s hand got coated in cum, and Tyrell’s dick soon was soft again. Tyrell’s whole body trembled as Avery kept on stroking until Tyrell couldn’t take it any more and pushed his hand away.
“Good timing,” Avery said. He sucked the cum off his finger, the sound of which made Tyrell gag — girls were never that enthusiastic about cum. He pulled off the highway into Crandwell. “We’re almost there.”
“Yeah, cool,” Tyrell said. He chuckled, trying to recover his breath without looking impressed. It was just a handjob, a mandingo-nigga like himself couldn’t get excited over a handjob without blowing his rep. He heaved for breath as casually as he could manage. “Cool. You bettuh buy me that phone, yoh.”
“I will. Where’s this house you can get clothes at?”
Tyrell gave him directions to a tony neighborhood a ways off the highway. There he pulled up to a house with a pool out back. “Don’t worry, I fuck wit’ this divorced lady, she don’t needta hide nuhhin’.” He got out, wrapping a jacket around his waist so he could walk to the front door without flashing the neighborhood.
He had no sooner stepped out, however, when a slightly haggard woman came out of the front door. “No way, Tyrell! Get outta here! My husband’s back!”
“Wudd?”
“My husband’s back! You gotta go-“
A burly middle-aged white man came out from behind the house. He saw Tyrell’s mostly naked body. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
Tyrell was crestfallen for a couple reasons. Most importantly, he was shocked that she had chosen her husband over him. She’d been bad-mouthing her husband for more than a year. She said over and over that Tyrell was younger, sexier, bigger-cocked, better-in-bed and just plain more charming. He was better in every way than her ex-husband.
So what, Tyrell thought, was wrong with him? Why had she chosen the husband over him?
“Huh? Whatchoo doin’, man? You best get outta here!” The man’s face turned ruddy, and he came closer. “You tryin’-a mess wit’ my wife?”
Tyrell was used to messing around with nerdy white guys’s wives, not big men like him. He didn’t like retreating, but he had few options. He took a step back then darted into Avery’s car. Avery saw all that occur, but he was unsure what it meant.
“Drive.”
“What’s happening?” Avery was confused by the large white man approaching the open driver’s side window of Avery’s car.
“What the fuck is going on?” said the white man, lowering his head to bark at Tyrell in the passenger seat. “You coming at my wife, boy?”
“Nah.”
“Who are you?”
“Just drive!”
Avery ripped the car into reverse and floored it out of the driveway. Luckily no one was coming on the street or Avery might have backed right into them. He peeled away back to the highway.
“Shit,” Tyrell said. He sighed. “Well, fuck.”
“You wanna go get that phone now then?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tyrell said. He looked out the window.
“Do you… want to stay with me?” Avery asked. He got the feeling from Tyrell’s silence that he now needed a place to stay.
Tyrell shrugged. “Do, I, uh… gotta… pay rent?”
“Sort of,” Avery said with a chuckle. “I only have one bed.”
There was a long awkward silence in the car. Tyrell wrinkled his nose. “Fine. But you gotta buy me stuff. Not just the phone. Like I need sum clothes ‘nd’shit, and, uh… a toothbrush.”
“Sure.”
“And…” There was so much going on that Tyrell struggled to think of something nice he could demand. “Uh… nice clothes. Like real nice clothes.”
“Yeah, cool.”
Avery drove to the All-Mart. Since Tyrell couldn’t go in without any clothes, he stayed out in the car, while Avery went in to buy a cheap phone, some clothes, shoes and a few odds and ends. He was relieved to come out and find Tyrell hadn’t hotwired his car.
“These clothes’ll have to do for now,” Avery said. “I’ll buy you some nicer stuff online, okay?”
“Fine.”
Tyrell felt better when he had some clothes on, and he quickly got to work on his phone. So he was involved in that and didn’t talk much or even pay any attention to Avery’s groping of his biceps and limp cock, until they pulled into the driveway of Avery’s house. Avery led him inside.
In the house, Avery was disappointed to see Tyrell in clothes. They both kept to themselves for awhile. Tyrell needed to get his life back in order — canceling his old phone, getting in touch with one nigga who was at work at the Burger Barn and could give him numbers of some other niggas, sending desperate messages to that married woman (until she blocked him), bragging to his niggas about the white chick he had boned (which made him feel better).
Avery made spaghetti — he had plenty of pasta and jarred sauce, and he figured Tyrell would like to have a big meal that was not quite home-cooked, but still plenty damn good. It was the good jarred sauce anyway.
“So do I gotta… you know, perform foh muh dinner?” Tyrell asked.
Avery clucked his tongue. “No. I’m not gonna starve you, Tyrell. You can ram me later tonight, once you’ve eaten.”
Tyrell was relieved but also wrinkled his nose. He didn’t realize Avery wanted ass. Tyrell wasn’t a booty bandit.
He could do it, of course. This nigga got meat. This nigga pounds.
But it wasn’t something he looked forward to. Tyrell hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he saw the food. He slurped down the noodles and the leftover Italian sausage Avery had added. Tyrell felt much better once he had eaten. He went in and took a long hot shower, which felt good too.
Then he came out before bed, in time to see Avery putting on a silky bathrobe. Tyrell followed him into his bedroom, his heart pounding.
He’d never plowed a man in the ass before. Tyrell fucked mainly with middle-aged white women, and while he liked to brag that he got them to give up the booty, that wasn’t really true. He’d only ever had anal sex with four women, and three of them made him quit before he even got his whole dick in there.
Tyrell closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He could do this. It would be easier, he thought, if he just pretended he was with a woman. He leaned in slowly, like women liked, and wrapped his muscles around Avery. He wrinkled his nose when Avery planted his lips on Tyrell’s, but Tyrell submitted as Avery’s tongue invaded his mouth.
Avery erupted in moans, stroking Tyrell’s powerful chest, which was moist with shower water. Avery figured Tyrell would feel most comfortable if Avery acted like a woman in love with him, being seduced. Avery giggled girlishly as Tyrell kissed him on the lips and the neck, then Avery slowly lowered himself to his knees.
“Alright, then, man, go ahead and put yuh mouf ouwn it,” Tyrell said with a grunt.
Avery pulled off Tyrell’s towel, revealing that big floppy cock. If he was with a woman, he’d be hard already. Tyrell tried not to show his feelings about this on his face. He took a deep breath, and his cock popped into Avery’s mouth. Avery smiled around it — it was clean and meaty and he could tell it was well-used too, like a muscle exhausted after a long day of work.
Tyrell fucked so many women that he got hard quickly, once he got into it, even though he’d cum a couple times today already. It had been hours, after all, which was plenty of time for him. He put his hands on his hips, watching his dick slide down Avery’s throat. At first it was just awkward and moist but cold and unappealing, like thwacking his limp dick on a plate of raw fish.
But then all at once, a jolt of pleasure made it twitch, and Tyrell narrowed his eyes to slits. His pecs rippled. His cock throbbed, and again, Tyrell felt the warm moisture of Avery’s tongue battering his sensitive cockshaft. He murmured soft nothings, and he submitted to Avery’s hands reaching up to play with his rippling chest muscles.
Not enough women were impressed by muscles, Tyrell thought, not really. Not like Avery obviously was.
“Yeah, swallow it, boi, swallow it deep…” Tyrell could get into this, he thought. He wondered if Avery would keep him paying him for his dick. That could be a regular arrangement.
It was rock-hard and throbbing soon enough, and the salty taste of precum hit Avery’s lips. Avery smiled up at him, his hands roaming over Tyrell’s muscular chest.
When he was ready, Avery turned around, leaned over the bed and jutted his ass up. Tyrell tried to cover up his lack of confidence, but Avery could tell how nervous he was. Tyrell wondered how much like a woman’s ass this would feel.
It’s good to do this once, Tyrell tried to tell himself. Lotta niggas ram once or twice. It’s better to do it wit’ a clean guy outside of prison. Then if I ever go to prison, it won’t be my first time.
One of Tyrell’s big hands spread Avery’s asscheeks, and he teased his knob at Avery’s hole. Then he closed his eyes and gyrated his hips, forcing it in as deep as it could go with one thrust. Avery gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain hit him. Tyrell had a big dick, so even with lube, there was agony as that first inch or two of cockmeat pushed into him. Avery struggled, and Tyrell grunted.
“Damn, boi,” Tyrell said. He’d never really worked through this kind of anal resistance. He was ginger, reluctant at first. Tyrell slowly worked his cock in, centimeter by centimeter. His hands instinctively touched Avery’s ass, then he pulled away because he didn’t want to touch a man.
Then a surge of pleasure hit him, and Tyrell moaned despite his anxiety. His eyes fluttered, and he gripped Avery’s flesh tight. He found his fingers on Avery’s pert ass — which, he thought, looked and felt very much like a girl’s — spreading the cheeks. When Tyrell kinda sculpted Avery’s assflesh with his hands, he could give it a vaguely feminine outline.
“Damn, man…” Tyrell grunted. His cock slid the rest of the way in, and they both moaned in sync. “Oh god… Damn, nigga!”
Tyrell didn’t know a man’s booty could be like this. Avery was tight and strong and experienced, and he could take every inch of dickmeat like few women could. He wasn’t loose either, he didn’t feel like a slut. He felt amazing, and Tyrell couldn’t believe it.
This, he thought, was better than any of the female asses he’d ever been in, not that Tyrell was going to admit that.
He pounded away, soon losing all of his inhibitions. He didn’t even mind his chest touching Avery’s back as he rammed his dick in harder and harder.
“Take it, nigga, damn!”
Soon he had Avery pinned on the bed, squirming beneath Tyrell’s massive body. Tyrell slammed his dick in and out, having lost his gingerness as he now realized Avery could take any amount of ramming. He forced his dick all the way in and out, and it was so thick every thrust of his hips brought Avery to new heights of orgasmic climax.
“Shit yeah!” Tyrell gripped his cheeks and moaned out his orgasm, surprised to see that Avery shot his own load at the same time. His body was wracked with bliss so intense it nearly hurt. He cried out loud, and his hands clawed for something to grip onto.
The smell of cum filled the air, and Tyrell sprayed his giant wad within Avery’s ass. It just kept on flowing, overflowing, dripping down and coating Avery’s thighs with creamy goodness.
More and more kept flowing, each one accompanying a long-dicking thrust into Avery’s ass The pleasure continued that whole time, Avery’s orgasm never quite ending. Tyrell’s cock had found a magic button to prolong it, it seemed.
At last, it was over, and Tyrell pulled out amid a storm of shudders through both men’s bodies. He grinned, wiping sweat off his chest. “Damn, boi… Hmm, you got ass fo’ real…”
“Hmmm…” Avery wanted to say something flirtatious, but he was too overwhelmed by the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm he had felt in a long time. He curled up on the bed and motioned for Tyrell to lay next to him.
Tyrell did so. He was tired now, having barely slept the night before. He didn’t even mind letting Avery paw all over him as they settled into bed together.
When I tell people about this — if I ever do — I’ll definitely tell them I made Avery sleep on the couch.

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 Hustler

Rob stumbles across an alpha male biker in need of cash, a place to stay and a chance to get a nut off, which are all problems Rob is eager to help solve. That means Rob is in for a night of raunchy action, dominance and a mind-blowing orgasm.

Can Rob handle the firm hand of his new friend?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Rob sat in his coffeeshop, looking at the novel he had just finished writing. He had finished it too recently to edit it now. It was tough to edit something right after you wrote it. But his deadline was tomorrow, so Rob was trying to gin up the energy to do it anyway.
He didn’t really have to meet the deadline. Most freelance writers were so flaky, he was seen as “on-time and ultra-efficient” if he was less than a week late. That would give Rob a few days to decompress, then look over the novel with a fresh pair of eyes.
He just didn’t want to have this Mafia romance hanging over his head any longer.
He idly googled the Mafia. There needed to be some fact specific to the Mafia that worked into the plot. Right now, it was just a story with criminals in it — that they were Mafia was mentioned in the prose, but not demonstrated through an action. They were just generic criminals so far. Rob needed to add a tidbit that directly related to some Mafia word like omertà or consigliere. But not as hokey or well-known as those, it needed to be something else.
A goombah was a man’s mistress. That could be something, Rob thought, but women might find it offensive, even if it was only a villainous kidnapper’s woman.
He kept scrolling through lists of Mafia slang. Most of them had the same twenty or so words.
Who’s that? Someone caught Rob’s gaze.
There was a man outside, hanging out near the motorcycle shop on the street. He caught Rob’s eye. He looked vaguely bikerish, but Rob didn’t get the impression he had any intention of going into the motorcycle shop next-door. He just milled about near the practice-lot for new motorcyclists and smoked a cigarette.
The man was medium-height but well-muscled, his broad shoulders showed off by a sleeveless shirt. He had a scruffy mustache and a scruffier beard, and dark eyes, with long black hair that was tangled and greasy.
He threw his cigarette on the ground. Then he curled his lip at a young black man walking by. They both nodded at each other as though they knew each other — there was hostility though, like they had fought once. When the black guy went past, the biker licked his teeth and watched him go. He exhaled a long plume of smoke.
As soon as he snubbed out his cigarette, the white man with the black hair lit another one. Was he waiting for someone? Rob sensed an opportunity for rough trade.
He paid for his coffee and put his laptop away before heading out to his car. He knew from personal experience that the best way to get a hustler off the street was with a car. That would signal that Rob had some money, and it would get the hustler somewhere more private.
He pulled to a stop in front of the bike shop. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
The hustler scowled and looked in the passenger side window. Cars streamed past Rob on the street. “What?” he barked into the window.
“Hey, how you doin’? You know cars? I could use someone who knows cars. My car’s making this noise, it’s sort of a thwump-thwump-“
“You lookin’ for a mechanic?”
“Bah, you know, they’re all crooks. They’ll cheat me, I know it. They always do. I usually just look around for someone who might know what they’re talking about. You’re into motorcycles, right? You must know about cars.” Rob gestured towards the motorcycle shop.
“You payin’?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll treat you right, I swear.”
The hustler shrugged and nodded. He got in the passenger seat. “Yeah. I know cars. I mean, sort of.”
“Cool, sweet.” Rob cleared his throat. “I’m Rob.”
“Glasser.”
“Cool, Glasser, sweet,” Rob said. “So-“
“What sound is ya car makin’? I don’t hear nothin’.”
“Oh, not this car,” Rob said. “It’s my other car, back at my place. I’ll take you there. Where do you live, Glasser?”
He shrugged. “Around.” He let out a shiver. Now that he was out of the cold air and the light drizzle, he found it more difficult to keep himself from shivering.
“You got a girlfriend?”
Glasser scoffed like that was absurd. “I got females I mess wit’.”
“Uh-huh. Sweet. Cool.” Rob smiled at him as he got on the highway. “So, uh… you horny?”
“Always.” Glasser crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window. That position accentuated his pecs, which pressed against his too small tee shirt. His biceps gleamed with either sweat or rain or both.
“You wanna… y’know… do somethin’ ‘bout that?” Rob asked. Glasser ignored him, just staring out the window. Rob gingerly touched Glasser’s left bicep. Glasser still ignored him. Rob squeezed his arm and caressed it, his fingers slipping under Glasser’s sleeveless shirt to his shoulder. That made Glasser’s muscles all twitch at once. With one hand still on the steering wheel, Rob massaged Glasser’s back with his other hand. “Can you take your dick out?”
Glasser sighed like that was a huge imposition. His mustache quivered. He unzipped his dirty camo pants and took his dick out — again, he looked back out the window, avoiding Rob’s gaze. He had a hefty dick, plenty thick and tanned a dark brown, just a shade darker than his skin.
He just took it out and let it flop against the fabric of his rain-soaked pants. He didn’t play with it or anything. It just lay there like an abandoned sausage.
“You have a nice cock. I really do have a car at home that makes a thwump-thwump sound. I think something’s loose in the undercarriage,” he said. “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can fix it tonight.”
After a long, pregnant pause, Glasser said, “I might need tools.” His dickfat jiggled when he spoke. He exhaled another plume from that ever-present cigarette.
“I’ve got some tools. If there’s something you can’t do tonight, then we’ll work something else out,” Rob said. He grabbed Glasser’s limp cock with one hand. He didn’t sroke it, he just held on like a handle, gauging Glasser’s reaction. Rob faced the road, so he couldn’t see his face, but he sensed only a blankness from him.
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring out the window intently like he might see something interesting if he looked hard enough. It was dark out though. There was nothing to see but the streetlights and the other cars whizzing by on the highway. His dick throbbed and jostled in Rob’s grip.
“Okay, cool, thanks,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock a squeeze and a stroke, and still Glasser ignored it.
Glasser ignored Rob’s finger as it moved in a little circle over the spot on the underside of his cock, right where the glans met the shaft. His dick was heavy and thick. Rob stroked it with just one finger at first. He rubbed that finger from tip to root and back, while Glasser sighed.
At last, Glasser looked away from the window and watched Rob stroke his dick. He didn’t say anything.
“You let guys jack you off a lot?”
“No.”
” I’ll pay you. Hundred bucks, if you let me swallow your cum. Plus fifty to fix my car,” Rob said. “You need a place to stay?”
Glasser didn’t answer, but he grunted in a way that made the answer clear — yes. He watched his cockshaft as it flopped limply in Rob’s hand. Rob stroked slowly. He made no effort to get it hard, he was just playing with it the best he could while still driving the car with the other hand.
“You want a drink?”
Glasser glowered for a moment, then said, “Can’t. Gots a parole officer who gonna test my piss tomorrow.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Rob said. He kept stroking. Glasser’s limp dick was hot and moist with sweat. Rob was pretty sure he was trying hard not to get an erection yet. Was that to hold out for more money? Just plain anxiety? Did he drink enough he actually had trouble getting an erection? Or did he just want to prove he couldn’t get hard for a man too easily?
Pulling off the highway, Rob slowed down the car but sped up his stroking. He squeezed a bit too. That made Glasser grunt.
His cock pulsated and twitched. It began to firm up in Rob’s mind. Glasser returned to looking intently out the window. At least now there were things out there — a gas station, a dog running along the side of the road, a woman parking.
“I wanna swallow your cum.”
Glasser chuckled throatily — it was a dim, minimal chuckle, but still, it was the strongest emotion he had shown yet. “That’s nasty.” He paused. “Don’t show me ya mouth. Some perverts do that, they jerk a man off and swallow and then open up so I can see — that’s fuckin’ disgusting. Don’t do — I mean, I ain’t sayin’ I let fellers jerk me off. I don’t do that, no sir, not on the regular. I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I used to, alright? When I was doin’ drugs, I mean, I used to let all kinda boys handle my meat,” Glasser said. “That’s all. I ain’t doin’ it no more.” He sniffled. “After tonight.”
“Okay. Cool. I get to be your last, huh?” Rob said with a laugh. He pulled into his driveway and put the car in park in front of his garage. Then he lowered his head to Glasser’s crotch and deep-throated him to the root, all in one smooth motion.
“Shit…” Glasser said. His eyes opened wide — not that Rob could see it — and he had to hold back a gasp. He didn’t know it would feel this good right away. He sucked in on his cigarette then coughed, which rammed his cock deep into Rob’s throat.
Rob grinned as he choked. Even though he couldn’t see Glasser’s face, he knew what was happening. Glasser was shocked at how good this felt but he was trying to hide it. He could sense it in Glasser’s feet curling and lifting off the car floor, in the tensing of his thigh muscles and the sudden explosive erection — his dick got noticeably more erect just in the moments it took Rob to go from playing with it to swallowing the whole foot-long shaft.
Betcha no women swallow him that deep, Rob thought… He would have said it out loud if his mouth weren’t full.
Glasser growled, a low rumbling sound that bounced out of his mouth through his gritted teeth. He lifted his ass off the seat and grabbed Rob’s head with both hands.
“Take it, man, swallow it, swallow that shit, sissy, c’mon…” Glasser said. His swarthy face turned reddish. He grunted loudly, like an angry hog, and he gripped Rob’s scalp tightly. “Don’t stop, man, I’m gonna nut.”
Rob wasn’t expecting him to cum so quickly, especially since it had taken Glasser awhile to get hard. But Rob didn’t mind — he thought he could get another load out of Glasser tonight. Hot streams of jizz poured down Rob’s throat, and he choked loudly even as he managed to get every drop down his gullet.
His lungs cried out for oxygen, but Rob managed to avoid spitting out the cum that flowed deep into his throat. Glasser held him tightly, all the way down on that massive dick, which tasted of rain and dirty clothes. His cum, on the other hand, was bright and warm and sunny, creamy like… well, cream, and salty in a good way. Rob savored the taste as it pumped down his gullet.
“You’s makin’ a sloppy mess, sissy,” Glasser said, heaving for air as he orgasmed in Rob’s mouth. He frowned, gripping Rob’s hair even more tightly. He bucked his hips, forcing his dick all the way in once more for the last few wads of cum. It coated Rob’s throat and sat hotly in his belly. “Goddamn…”
When he could resist no longer, Rob sputtered, unable to avoid making a big mess of cum that spewed out and soaked into Glasser’s pubic hair. It coated the surface of his jeans too. Even when he thought ht was done spitting up, Rob moved his head just an inch, which triggered both another explosion of pleasure in Glasser and a gag that roiled Rob’s body. Rob retched up a mouthload, while Glasser let out an involuntary moan that turned into a stonefacing grunt. He kept Rob’s dick in place, forcing him to choke up again and against, the sensation massaging Glasser’s sensitive shaft.
At last, Rob pulled off completely, forcing his head away from Glasser’s cock cuz Glasser held on tight like he was never gonna let him take a breath. Rob grabbed a coarse lungful of air, while Glasser sighed. Then Rob moved to kiss him on the lips, an instinctual move he didn’t think Glasser would accept. Glasser gently pushed and then rudely slapped his cum-dripping face.
“Don’chu dare kiss me.” He coughed, making his dickfat jiggle once more as it rapidly limpened up. “You nothin’ special, pansy.” Glasser wasn’t about to admit that that was an especially good dome — he would never admit that because it sounded too queer to say out loud. But it was obvious from his breathless reaction and the way his whole body went limp at once as he let go of Rob’s head. Rob at last pulled off and took a big, deep breath, which made a hoarse sound that filled the tiny cabin of the car.
“Hmmm… Damn, you… got dick… for days,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock another stroke, which made Glasser gasp and his whole body squirm.
Glasser smacked Rob — not as hard as he could but hard enough to hurt. Glasser hadn’t wanted to squirm like that, it made him feel weak. “I ain’t say you could swallow it.”
“Oh, sorry, okay,” Rob said. He wiped his face off. “You wanna come in-?”
“Pay me, bitch.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Rob pulled out the hundred dollars he had promised and handed it over. He pointed to the garage. “Did you want to work on the car tonight? You could sleep tonight instead and do it tomorrow-“
“You got electricity in ya garage?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll work tonight.” Glasser got out of the car — only then putting his dick away and realizing how much cum had gotten on his pants. He went out to stand in the rain to “wash” the stain off some. “Just go to bed, sissy. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and finish the car tomorrow.”
“Oh. I…” Rob wanted to ask if Glasser was going to ram him in the ass. He had hoped to do more than just play with his dick for about three minutes. But he sensed that the more he pushed right now, the less cooperative Glasser would be. “Okay.”
Rob went inside. He first made himself some food — just pasta with a bunch of leftovers mixed in, but he made sure to pan-fry some onions and garlic in butter — no one, he thought, could resist that smell. He knew it was smellable out in the garage too.
But Glasser still didn’t come in. When Rob went out there to check on him, he was pretty sure Glasser hadn’t been doing any work until Rob came to the garage door. Then he slid under the car and pretended to be doing something.
It soon became obvious that the car was fixed. Glasser wasn’t going to come in the house until Rob was in bed. Rob just shrugged — a lot of men will do what they have to for money, but not sleep with men, or kiss them, or even hug them in some cases. Obviously Glasser was one of those kind of guys.
Rob put a pillow and blanket out by the couch, plus a bowl of food in the kitchen. He thought he’d get Glasser later tonight or very early tomorrow morning — he’d be horny again then, and he’d probably want money to go out drinking after meeting with his parole officer.
Then Rob turned out the lights and went to bed. Sure enough, he heard Glasser come in about twenty minutes later. Rob didn’t go out. If Glasser was homeless — which now seemed like a real possibility — he probably wanted a chance to be in a home, by himself, to relax. He heard Glasser turn the TV on — that took some fumbling with the remote, but Rob didn’t go out there to help. He let Glasser figure it out on his own.
Rob was just about asleep when the door to his bedroom opened up. His ears twitched. Glasser’s baritone burp filled the air (it smelled like the leftover pasta Rob had left out for him).
“Hey. I’m gonna ram you. Don’t say nothin’,” Glasser said. He pulled the covers off Rob and dragged his shorts down. Glasser was already naked, his dick already hard because he had found some hip-hop videos on the TV, which were thinly disguised softcore pornography. He slid his dick between Rob’s cheeks and climbed into the bed with him.
Rob wanted to ask a bunch of questions — did Glasser want a ride to his parole officer tomorrow? Did he want to use a condom? Did he want the lights on? Did he want Rob to get on all fours? That was the position men seemed to want the most often — because it didn’t require them to look at Rob’s face, his breastless chest or his cock and balls. From behind, Rob looked very feminine except for the short haircut. But then, it was dark in here anyway, so Glasser could have easily pretended Rob was female in any position.
In any case, Glasser didn’t seem too concerned about that. His hairy chest scratched at Rob’s smooth back, as Glasser humped his dick between Rob’s cheeks.
“Shush…” Glasser said after he let out a groan. He kept on shushing Rob, even though Rob barely peeped. It was Glasser who kept grunting and clucking his tongue against his teeth whenever Rob didn’t move in the direction he wanted.
Glasser brought the covers back up as though he wanted to cover this up, so no one could see what was happening. He lifted his hips up to give himself some leverage, then aimed his dick for Rob’s asshole.
“Open that ass, punk, lemme in,” Glasser said, whispering breathlessly into Rob’s ear. He slapped one of Rob’s cheeks just as his dick pushed in.
Rob grunted. At last, he finally made a sound, and Glasser erupted in a torrent of hushing. Rob squirmed as pressure hit his ass, an intense pushing sensation that was hard to take at first — this was all going so fast. After waiting for hours, Rob was finally getting rammed by his favorite hustler yet, he just needed a moment to adjust.
But Glasser wasn’t waiting a moment. He gritted his teeth and pumped his hips once more, forcing more of his dick down and into Rob’s ass. He was relentless.
He pushed Rob’s face into the mattress. “Lift ya asshole up.” He lifted his own body up as he rammed all the way in and out now. Rob had to raise his hips to meet Glasser’s cock, and soon Rob was knelt over instead of on all fours. He cried out and groaned, but Glasser again shushed him. “Quiet, keep it real quiet…”
Glasser had gotten into the habit of plowing men on the downlow, in the darkness and quiet, during his first stay in jail. Back then, he had been in a small local jail with a sheriff who strictly forbade premarital sex and even circlejerking — that was what Glasser’s biker gang traditionally did when they got arrested, to “christen” their new cell. So Glasser had started ramrodding his cellmate with the lights off, as quietly as possible, and with blankets covering him.
That was why now, even though the positioning made it awkward, Glasser tried to keep the blankets covering up his crotch and Rob’s ass. He had to use one hand on that so he could only use one hand to hold Rob in position. He pressed down on Rob’s head, which meant he couldn’t hold onto Rob’s ass — instead, every time Rob moved too much, Glasser growled to signal he should keep his ass high. And when Rob’s motion made the blanket fall away, Glasser smacked his asscheek.
“Shush, I’m gonna nut now, I’m gonna nut…” As Glasser felt his orgasm approach, he collapsed onto the bed. This felt good. It was like making love to a woman. He pulled the covers over Rob all the way up to the neck. That made it easy, especially in the dark, to pretend Rob was a woman — Glasser wasn’t pretending that, but he felt he needed to leave the option open, so he could, and so he could tell others later (not that he would tell anyone about this) that he had had to pretend Rob was a woman in order to ram him.
But actually, Glasser didn’t pretend that at all. He just wanted to bust a nut. He slid onto his side, and wrapped both hands all the way around Rob’s chest. He even kissed Rob’s cheek and nuzzled his neck as he orgasmed.
“Ah, goddamn, yeah, keep ya asshole open, keep it open…” Glasser moaned right into Rob’s ear. His breath condensed on his cheek. “Keep it open, pansy, lemme fill you up…”
Rob sprayed his own wad onto his belly and into his hands, just as he felt Glasser’s muscles spasm against his back. The petrichorian smell that clung to his unwashed body was overpowering now that it was trapped by the sheet, and since Rob was smaller than Glasser, he was buried in the scent of Glasser’s chest hair and armpit sweat.
Cum flew into Rob’s ass. Glasser was one of those who stayed still as he came, his dick all the way in, spurting wad after wad of white-hot cum. It was creamy and thick, sticky, seeping into Rob’s flesh. He felt it flowing within him.
Glasser was motionless for what felt like forever, as liquid orgasm coursed through his veins. He hadn’t blown a nut this good since prison. He attributed that to Rob having a nicer ass than most of the common prostitutes he hooked up with on the street. Being able to mess around in a bed instead of behind a dumpster helped a lot too. And Rob was clean enough to kiss, not that he intended to do any kissing.
After one final spurt of jizz up Rob’s guts, Glasser began humping again, very slowly, just grinding, sliding his half-hard dick around within Rob’s ass. He grunted along with Rob when the pain grew more intense, and Rob clenched, sending a wave of pleasure through Glasser’s post-orgasmic body.
“Shit…” Glasser said. He sighed, and for just a moment, he stayed there, breathing heavily, dick sliding moistly out of Rob’s ass. He kissed Rob’s cheek. It was affectionate and intimate, and Glasser loved it.
But he couldn’t let himself continue that. He rolled over and off Rob’s back. Rob took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” Rob said.
Glasser stood and lit a cigarette — mainly because he knew Rob didn’t allow smoking in the house and he wanted to show he did whatever he wanted, that he wasn’t letting some man be the boss of him. The smell of tobacco filled the air. Glasser smoked quietly, standing near enough to the bed that Rob could hug his hairy thighs and clean his dick off with a tissue.
Then Glasser grunted and walked out of the bedroom. “I’ll sleep on the couch, asshole,” he said. “You owe me fifty bucks for the car and two hundred for plowing you in the ass.” He paused. “Get me up at nine o’clock and drive me to the parole office. You better buy me breakfast too. Not Burger King.”
“Okay.”
Glasser went back into the other room to sleep on the couch. Last thing he did before going to sleep was sliding Rob’s ipad into the backpack he brought over here. No punk, he thought, deserves to go without being robbed.