in a hotel – Mansploitation

The Hairy Roughnecks Bottom

When Avery finds himself stranded in a North Dakota town short on hotel rooms, he has gotta sleep in the hotel gym. That means he’s ripe for meeting a trio of off-duty roughnecks with massively hairy bodies and bulging muscles. When they prove willing to sixty-nine, Avery is in for the Twink on Top experience of a lifetime!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

The clerk at the hotel said it was a gymnasium, but that was putting a rosy spin on it. It was literally a large empty room with a space heater, a bench press and a treadmill. About eighty percent of the space was devoid of anything but a yoga mat on the floor.
He was annoyed, but he couldn’t really justify anger. The airline had put him up at the only hotel in town, and they were being as accommodating as possible. It wasn’t like they caused the freak snowstorm that left him stranded here, and there was no better accommodation available. The town was busy this weekend because many of the roughnecks from the oil derricks around the area had leave, and they took up all of the hotel’s rooms.
Avery’s plane was forced to land by a sudden blizzard. Unfortunately, the only nearby airstrip was in a remote oil rig town in North Dakota. It wasn’t even a proper airport, not that Avery was complaining.
At the time, Avery had thought the plane was going to crash. It rattled and shook like a soul singer as it descended, and the pilot had been so distracted by the weather that he hadn’t announced the emergency landing. So it came out of nowhere. The flight went from turbulent to imminently crashing, and Avery made peace with his maker (every maker he could think of).
That meant by the time he landed and made it to his hotel, it was hard to be extremely upset about the “gym” that the hotel had put him into. He changed into workout clothes in the corner of the gym that had been designated a locker room. It was set off from the main area by a standing curtain.
He did some stretching. But his brain was focused on the plane crash that very nearly happened, so his exercise was listless. Still, it was good to move around. He couldn’t focus on anything but reliving the near-crash that happened moments ago. He kept imagining what else could have happened, like what if the plane crashed and him and the pilot had to eat the copilot as they were stranded in the prairie all winter, or what if Avery had to take control of the plane, what if it was a 9/11 kind of situation and terrorists were going to crash the plane into Mount Rushmore.
Three men walked in. Avery nodded at them. They nodded back, but then they snickered among themselves. Avery must look awful, or maybe they thought he was small and skinny and short and weak. True, more or less. But still, Avery was in too foul a mood to be bullied.
Avery was small, but he was lightning fast and stronger than he looked. He had taken some self-defense classes, so he was able to hold his own. His apparent weakness gave him the benefit of surprise. He had kicked the ass of guys twice his size before.
But these three men were big, more than twice his size, and burly, thickly-muscled — roughnecks most likely. Williston, North Dakota, was a roughneck town. The only reason to exist was the legion of oil derricks that dotted the landscape, seemingly replacing the trees that didn’t grow in this neck of the non-literal woods.
“Wussup, yuh,” said one of the roughnecks. He was a dark-haired, swarthy-skinned Mediterranean-type, Italian, Avery suspected, but he talked like he was from New Jersey or maybe Rhode Island. Now he was stripped down to a wifebeater and shorts, revealing a hairy chest and trunk-like thighs, body fur running up over his shoulders and down his back. He went straight to the bench press machine.
Avery said hello back and resumed his workout. He kept sneaking glances at the trio, especially the outgoing Italian with a handsome face, whose friends called him Gallo. He grunted and groaned and exclaimed loudly, though Avery couldn’t make out the words from this far away.
As a great admirer of the male physique, Avery found the three roughnecks alluring, and the Mediterranean man especially so. He had a handsome visage, a well-formed body, good proportions, and plenty of body hair. Avery enjoyed body hair on men.
Gallo’s friends spotted him on the bench-press, and when Gallo finished his set, the other two took turns lifting. They pretended to ignore Avery as he pranced over the mat — it was obvious they were sneaking glances at him. They didn’t like a stranger in the gym, probably, and Avery wasn’t a roughneck. This hotel was all roughnecks.
There was a loud redneck named Harley, whose voice filled the gymnasium as he counted off Gallo’s reps. The third was tough, mean-looking and, Avery suspected, Arab, or maybe Persian, given that massive nose; he was quieter, and Avery didn’t catch his name right away.
“Shit, man-!”
“Get’cha pump on, buddy!”
“C’mon, Gallo, give it everythin’ you got, you hairy bastard! Sasquatch motherfucker!”
Avery loved big-ass hairbacks — men with hair on their backs. His favorite kind of man was hairy, and not just Hollywood-hairy either. He liked his men as furry as possible, ideally with hair extending all the way onto their backs. There was something incredibly intense and primal about it, something animalistic.
And besides that, Avery thought, he had learned long ago through personal experience that men with hairy backs were better than smoothbacks. They moved harder, played harder, plowed harder, did everything harder.
Today though, Avery was in such a bad mood he wasn’t sure he wanted to mess around, not even with these three hairbacked roughnecks. They were plenty handsome and blessed in the body hair department, but Avery didn’t feel up for it — he still felt cramped, dying in a plane-crash, screaming in terror, furious at the airline and the hotel and whichever government department was in charge of snow. He didn’t want to bend over to take it up behind from some hairbacks tonight.
Oh maybe, he thought… He looked at their powerful bodies lifting weights on the bench press, slapping each other’s muscles as they encouraged each other’s straining, groaning, exerting, flexing. Weights worked up and down, shoulders arced and looped, and the gymnasium filled with the scent of man-sweat and body hair. Avery sniffed the scent and took it in with a great dizzying rush.
He especially liked the way Harley the hillbilly looked laying there on the bench-press bench. His long legs jutted up because he was too tall for the bench. The bulge in his crotch was highly visible. If he lifted those legs up, Avery would have perfect access to plow him right in his meaty asshole.
Avery shook his head and sighed. He didn’t know why he was thinking like that. He wasn’t a top by nature.
“Hey, you look good enough to eat there, boy,” catcalled Harley after finishing a set of bench presses. Gallo tried to shush him — no doubt worried Avery would complain to the hotel management. But Harley ignored his friend clutching his biceps and hairy shoulders. He smiled at Avery, who blushed. “You the closest thing to a girl we got around here, boy. Ain’t many females in this neck of the woods.”
“Harley, don’t be a prick…”
“You’re gonna get us in trouble…”
Avery put his hands on his hips. “I’m not a pussy,” he said.
“I realize that, suh,” Harley said. “But I’d love to stick you like one just the same.” His tone was so serious it made Gallo burst into embarrassed laughter, echoed by the more sedate man — whose name, Avery had now gathered, was something like Shapur. Harley blushed. “I ain’t kiddin’. These two is some squeamish fucks, they wouldn’t never touch a boy on account of them bein’ prettyboys. There ain’t no girls here-“
“‘Cept Cynthia,” Gallo said with some whispered laughter.
“Ain’t no eligible wimmin here,” Harley said. “We got the world’s skankiest bitch, but I wouldn’t touch her with Shapur’s dick.” He pointed to his friend, who laughed — based on accent, skin and the straight hair forming a mat over his back, Avery now guessed he was Persian. Harley approached Avery. “Whatchoo say? You wanna get nasty? I’ll give you every inch of it.” He grabbed his dick through his dingy brown sweatpants. It was big and meaty, and it was already throbbing, half-hard.
But Avery was still in a bad mood, as arousing as Harley was. He’d be in a major city tomorrow, assuming this blizzard let up. There’d be big, hairy men there.
Avery shrugged. “I don’t think you could handle me,” he said as he turned around. He did a slow, languorous roll that accentuated his ass. Harley let out a redneck growl like he was turning into a bear.
“Damn, boy,” Harley said. “You got an ass that beckons to me, shit…”
“Fuckin’ hell, Harley, you nasty!” Gallo said. He was laughing so hard he was red-faced. “You into that booty bandit shit, hell! Hell yeah, see that!”
Harley turned around and smacked Gallo in the face. Their good-natured joshing turned instantly into vitriol and chest-bumping, which went back and forth as they squared up, duked up and reared back, while Shapur just sat there rolling his eyes as if this happened a million times a day.
As the fight developed, Avery shrank back to. Only Shapur’s nonreaction convinced him not to go get the hotel manager, since it seemed Shapur expected this to not go too hard. Avery had to admit he enjoyed watching two muscular men grappling, throwing punches, using every single one of those sculpted muscles. Sweat flew, a trickle of blood ran down Harley’s nostril, and Gallo knocked him down with a swift punch. Harley kicked and jumped to his feet.
“Fuck you, Gallo!” Harley bellowed. “You a shit! You-“
Gallo interrupted him with a punch right back, and then they were on the mat, writhing and punching. They yelled insults back and forth, but Avery couldn’t understand the words. Shapur watched from the bench-press, shaking his head. His hairy, sweat-dappled shoulders flexed as he waited for someone to spot him lifting.
At last the fight was over. It looked like Harley won, but only because Gallo backed away in disgust. “Aw, damn, Harley, you got a hardon!” He sneered at his friend. “I touched it, man… you fuckin’ redneck!”
“I need some action!” Harley said. He looked to Avery. “You sure, boy? I’ll treat you right…”
Avery sighed. “I’m not the kind of perv who just jacks off anyone,” Avery said. “If you wanna get your nut off, you gotta take it as good as you can give it.”
Gallo chuckled, and Shapur shook his head as though neither considered Harley saying yes, like they both thought that put an end to it. But the shaking of Harley’s ruddy chest and neck, and the awkward way he fumbled at his aroused crotch, suggested he was considering it. Then he shrugged.
“Fine,” he said, his voice low and resonant in the high-ceilinged gymnasium.
Whatever Harley said then, it was drowned out by Gallo’s howls of shock that he was saying yes. “He said yes! He gonna get plowed!” Gallo clutched Shapur’s hairy chest, his fingers ensconced in the straight black fur of his friend’s body. Shapur just raised his upper lip as though he couldn’t believe this was happening. Shapur obviously didn’t like Gallo’s handsy touching, but it was also obvious that Gallo didn’t care about personal space. He practically hugged Shapur.
“Rednecks is nasty, man!! Can’t believe that shit!”
Harley cleared his throat. He gestured towards the curtained off locker area. “I been in lockup befo’, boy, and I ain’t gonna lie about it, I had a boyfriend in there.”
Gallo and Shapur shared awkward laughter as Harley walked to the locker area. Avery followed in utter amazement — he had just assumed Harley would say no. He had demanded that on the assumption it would end this little encounter.
But apparently, he was going to get to top at least one incredible hairback-alpha.
Once on the other side of the dividing curtain, Harley stripped off his work boots and workout pants. He had a lean body with just enough meat, Avery thought. He took his own clothes off, eyeing Harley suspiciously — he still didn’t think an alpha male man like Harley would be willing to bottom.
“You wanna sixty-nine?” He asked as he took out his massive swarthy cock, which was veiny and throbbing hard from the wrestling he had done with Gallo. He smiled at Avery and laid on his back. “You can be on top.” Then he whistled. “Damn, boy, you look good enough to eat.” He ignored his friends’ snickering.
Avery didn’t need to be told twice. He mounted Harley’s face, making sure to put his cock in before taking Harley’s — though now that he saw it, Avery thought he would have willingly bottomed if Harley had insisted on it — it was just a beautiful, plump cock that Avery couldn’t refuse.
“You really doin’ this, Harley? You fuckin’ sick bastard…”
Harley gagged as Avery’s already-hardening cock invaded his throat. He tensed up, his body instinctively rejecting it at first. But he seemed to forget his anxiety moments later when Avery’s mouth encircled Harley’s dick, which jerked in his mouth.
It was a somewhat awkward position because Avery was so much smaller than Harley. His smooth chest felt tiny resting atop Harley’s hair-matted, sun-darkened torso. Avery had to strain his neck to reach all the way to Harley’s cock.
Harley growled and smacked Avery’s asscheeks. Avery worried that he was asking for a break, so he lifted his hips. But Harley just blushed and whispered, “Aw fuck, you wanna move here, boy? You better than most girls, and you’d be the closest thing to a woman in town — you’d have your pick of roughnecks.” Then he resumed slurping, forcing Avery’s dick back into his mouth.
The other two men in the gym area snickered. They were obviously listening, Avery thought, and they probably peeked around the curtain too.
“Damn, he swallowin’ you right?” Gallo called out amid the hushed laughter. “Sounds like he doin’ a good job.”
Harley grunted around the cock in his throat in a way that suggested the answer was yes, though he didn’t form any words. Much to Avery’s surprise, Harley shot his load right then — he must have been horny, because it didn’t take very long.
His veiny dick spasmed and pulsated, then it burst forth a torrent of white-hot cum. It was so profuse and so thick and creamy that it ran down Avery’s chin even as he swallowed all that he could gulp down. It tasted of salt and sweat and sawdust, exactly what Avery was hoping for.
“Damn, boy, you came right quick,” Gallo said.
Harley moaned loudly, making no effort to hide it. Avery pulled his dick out as he swallowed the last of Harley’s load. He wasn’t sure if Harley would be willing to continue on Avery’s cock now that he was done.
“Was he that good?” Gallo asked, coming around into the locker area. There was a blatant hardon in his pants, visibly throbbing against the fabric. He looked disgusted at Harley, who laid there with Avery’s dick — still hard — resting on his forehead.
“Hell yeah he was,” Harley said, his voice weak and breathless. “He’s totally worth it, Gallo. You know you need to get a nut off. You been in a bad mood since we hired that whore in Fargo.”
“Aw, shit…” Shapur’s eyes opened wide. “Are you gonna do it, Gallo?”
Gallo hesitated, then stripped naked. He tried poking his hairy crotch at Avery, but Avery only smiled — now that he knew he could get these hairback roughnecks to bottom, he wasn’t going to stop. He didn’t get that many opportunity to do it, and he had gotta take advantage of it while he could.
“You wanna sixty-nine, we’ll sixty-nine,” Avery said. He tried to sound bored. “If not, leave me alone.” His heart raced — these were not the kind of men he interacted with often, and he couldn’t believe his good fortune in getting laid by even one of them, much less two. He tried to pretend he wasn’t nervous about standing up to Gallo.
“If you’s try an’ tell anyone,” Gallo said, loud enough that Shapur could hear, “I’ll deny it and I’ll fuck ya up for real.” His Brooklyn accent shone through, and it made Avery desperate to feel his body. He pounded his chest. “I ain’t playin’.” He eyed Avery. “He do look like a girl.” He smiled. “But you won’t make me shave my back before you touch me, huh?”
“No, I won’t,” Avery said. “I insist on you not shaving your back.”
Gallo sighed as he took Harley’s place on the bottom. Avery just scooted right over to Gallo’s bulky, hairy frame, his muscles broad and rippled beneath Avery’s body. This time he could do deep-throat even more effectively because Gallo was a lot shorter than Harley. He was hairier too, and his kinky black hairs were coarser beneath Avery’s fingers.
Despite the apparent reluctance Gallo expressed, he seemed comfortable with this. His cock slid into Avery’s mouth, making him let out a long low moan. Gallo opened his own mouth, but he paid little attention to it, so he wasn’t bothered by Avery’s dick entering his own mouth. Both men were wracked with spasms of pleasure, but only Avery was feeling it from both ends. Gallo ignored his own mouth so as to focus on moving his cock in and out of Avery’s warm, moist mouth.
He became aware of Shapur masturbating as he watched, but Avery didn’t slow down. He liked putting on a show, and he twinkled his asshole — that must have been what Shapur was looking at, he thought. He was imagining his cock gliding into Avery’s well-lubed asshole. Typical Persian.
This time, as he felt his orgasm approach, Avery began slamming his crotch all the way down, making Gallo deep-throat it and gag on every inch. Gallo didn’t complain and didn’t even seem perturbed by his own gagging on Avery’s meat, and he moaned loudly every time Avery’s nose nestled in his pubic hair.
Their bodies writhed there, interlocked, for what felt like a long time. Avery ran his fingers through the ass and back hair he could get to, slowing his dick down to prolong his orgasm as he massaged Gallo’s meaty muscles.
Then Gallo spewed a thick load of creamy cum, which sprayed over Avery’s hand and Gallo’s body hair. It tangled and matted there, and Avery licked it clean while his dick neared orgasm in Gallo’s mouth.
“Damn, boy, he was right, you swallow good enough I can forget about the cock in my throat,” Gallo said, rolling away and gagging on the precum that stuck to his lips. “Cock taste just like pussy really, anyway.” Then he blushed. “Don’t none of you tell no one I said that.”
By now it was obvious that Shapur was going to go for it as well, and Avery readied himself. Shapur was the hairiest of the three, so it felt like he was mounting sasquatch. His hair was thick and kinky, like steel wool, Avery thought. Shapur muttered in Persian as he got on the ground, and Avery gathered it was a prayer for forgiveness.
Avery felt his own orgasm growing with every passing moment, even though nobody was touching his cock right now.
Shapur took to it right away, so quickly that Avery wondered if he had done this before — he didn’t come across as eager, but he didn’t come across as reluctant either. Shapur gagged just like the others when he tasted Avery’s cock, but it didn’t slow him down. He deep-throated the shaft easily. He definitely seemed practiced, Avery thought.
But then Avery swallowed him, his tight, wet mouth sending a wave of pleasure up Shapur’s spine. Avery’s arms wrapped around Shapur’s powerful body, and Shapur moaned so loud it made Harley and Gallo chuckle from the main part of the gymnasium.
Shapur’s dick was uncircumcised, which was a nice change of pace, Avery thought as he slurped the precum clean. He had always liked uncut men. He played with the foreskin as Shapur’s cock rocketed to erection, throbbing mightily on Avery’s tongue. Then Avery savored the meaty flavor of that skin-soaked shaft. Shapur also had the thickest and longest of the three cocks, and his had a silky sheen that Avery found alluring.
“Aw, fuck yeah, girl…” Shapur said a few times, interspersed with what Avery assumed was the Persian translation of the same words. Avery suspected he thought it would feel more like sex with a girl if he kept referring to Avery as a girl.
Whatever works…
Shapur shot a big load, and its sour saltiness overwhelmed Avery’s senses. Shapur was the most muscular of the three as well, and his frame turned rock-hard like a statue as he orgasmed. His balls crawled up in his sac. He gasped, and a wave of pleasure visibly rippled through his muscles.
He shot a huge load, watery and salty and seeping into every corner of Avery’s body. Avery moaned as he swallowed, his fingers caressing the hair of Shapur’s balls and taint. He kept slurping even as Shapur gradually limpened in his mouth, still spurting wad after wad of jizz. Avery swallowed every drop.
He was glad to have saved himself till the end. He began plowing into Shapur’s face, only to find the other two lean down and join in. Harley took both of Avery’s balls in his mouth, while Gallo kissed and licked the root, where Shapur couldn’t get to.
“We just wanna thank you, boy,” Gallo said. Then he whistled. “You do got a girl’s ass though, fuck, that’s nice.” He smiled as his tongue flickered over the root of Avery’s dick, and a massive spurt of jizz came out and spread over Shapur’s and Gallo’s faces.
At last his orgasm ran through him, and Avery moaned. He gripped Shapur’s hairy, flat belly for support and filled his mouth with his cum. Much to his surprise, Shapur barely gagged at all, and he accepted that relentless and ongoing flood of jizz. Avery’s much-delayed orgasm spurted down his throat. It felt like the biggest load of Avery’s life.
The pleasure was so intense Avery nearly collapsed. All he could sense were the tongues lapping at every corner of his crotch. Harley was most enthusiastic, juggling Avery’s balls in his mouth with his tongue and slurping on them as though hoping to get a prize. He kept suckling even as Avery’s cum dripped down and into his mouth.
And then at last, all three were done, and Avery’s dick fell limp. Shapur wiped his face off. The gymnasium was hot and humid, or maybe it was just the heat emanating from the three roughnecks’s overworked bodies.
Avery sighed and pulled away from Shapur’s cum-coated mouth. An awkward silence filled the room. Avery breathed deeply, blushing as he stood off Shapur’s body. The gymnasium stank of cum and sweat.
“Damn,” Harley said. “We need to start going to gymnastics tournaments.” He laughed, and the others agreed.
Avery slipped away as the three hairy friends exchanged nervous glances. They weren’t sure if their friendship would ever be the same again. Avery cleared his throat. “You know… in a snowstorm,” he said, pointing to the outside — which looked cold, somehow, even though only the inky blackness of the night sky was visible — “in a snowstorm, people do things they wouldn’t normally do.” Avery smiled at them. “When the weather clears up, you can decide that what happened in here, during the storm… It didn’t happen. Just promise right now that what happens tonight didn’t happen at all,” he said. “That way it won’t get in the way of your friendship.”
They talked about it, but Avery didn’t listen. He gazed out the window at the snow and relaxed in the glowing aftershocks of his orgasm. He was beginning to think getting snowed in was leading to one of the most exciting weekends of his life!

The Gangs

Rob Winthrop invites a hundred big black thugs with big black meat to give him a big black experience! This is a once-in-a-lifetime no-holes-barred event he’ll never forget!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob Winthrop started getting nervous as he always did, when the guys filed in one by one to what Rob had called a “physique appreciation event”. A raucous pit of butterflies fluttered in his belly as the convention center filled up with men. There were a hundred of them, all swaggering thugs who concealed their own anxiety as well — Rob could sense it in the way they avoided eye contact with anyone and shuffled forward in line. They each carried with them the appropriate paperwork.
101 happened to be the fire marshall’s stated capacity for the convention hall, so it was packed tight with no room to spare, especially since part of the room was set off with a large table for them place their clothes on. When Rob instructed them to remove their clothing and get ready, they grumbled.
“Yo, when we gettin’ paid?”
“You best not stiff us, whiteman!”
Rob held up his hands for silence, his heart thumping. He had specifically sought actual thugs, not just thug-acting men — everyone here had a criminal record. There were robbers, muggers, home-invaders, drug dealers, pimps and even two convicted murderers. “No worries, no worries, I will pay all of you. I’ve got the first hundred dollars right here, you can take it when you get started. You understand the rules, right?”
“Yessuh!”
“We do it, fo’ real, man, don’t worry ‘bout that. I ‘xpect to get paid, mothafuckah.” They all laughed and slapped hands with each other.
“I’mma do this propuh, nigga!”
“Wreck that whitey!”
Rob grinned. They were enthusiastic again, and they started to take off their clothes. He re-explained the rules just in case they had forgotten. They were each required to ram him, ideally in both the mouth and ass, though a few had refused that and Rob allowed it anyway. Most of them agreed to do whatever else he wanted short of him penetrating them. They got a hundred dollars no matter what. But if the whole group — which included members of several rival gangs — succeeded in remaining peaceful the entire time, they’d each be paid a thousand dollars instead.
This would not be the first time Rob had paid more than a hundred grand for one physique appreciation event. He had plenty of money from the family business and his trust fund. He couldn’t imagine anything he’d rather spend his fortune on than this. His smooth twink body gleamed in the harsh light of the hotel convention hall, and he kept his hips angled to give a feminine curve to his body.
“Yo, whiteman, we gonna destroy dat ass! You know dat, right?”
“You ain’t gonna walk fo’ a week, man!”
Rob smiled. “That’s the plan, gentlemen.” He chuckled, and they all laughed, their deep and gravelly voices ringing out in the convention hall. The smell of bare balls and even a few drops of precum filled the air — someone must have been real horny, Rob thought, or just loved gangbangs so much he was already hard. A scent of malt liquor was noticeable too, suggesting a few of them had gotten drunk before coming in.
The person who got fully naked first was named Nathaniel Simpel, but he went by the name ‘Truck’. He was eager to get naked because he felt confident that he would have the biggest dick here and, he thought to himself, being the biggest-dicked-nigga at a hundred-man gangbang was really something to be proud of.
So he made sure to get undressed first. Then Truck turned around, standing next to Rob and waving his fat cock between his fingers — that way all the other thugs could see his gigantic meat, which swung between his legs and reached almost all the way to his knees. The chains around his neck jangled like Mr. T. He stayed like that, dick out where every nigga here gotta see it, as he thwacked it back and forth between his thighs.
“Yo, fo’ a thousand dollars,” Truck said, “I can guarantee we gonna stay peaceful long enough to bust a nut.” He laughed, a deep, booming barrel laugh that forced his shoulders back and his hips forward, flapping his fourteen-inch hog towards the other thugs.
Rob handed over the initial payment of a hundred dollars before he grabbed Truck’s fat cock. He gave it a long stroke, and Truck sighed in a highly exaggerated way, prompting laughs from the other men.
“Damn, nigga…”
“He into that, Truck is like that…”
Truck bristled and sucked on his teeth. They all looked at his cock, and a lot of them were hesitant to get naked now. Truck didn’t know that Rob had ensured all one hundred men were of appropriate quality — many of them were used to being the biggest man in any room, so seeing Truck’s legendary meat made them nervous, but everyone there had at least a foot of cock. That was another of Rob’s rules.
“Smells like ballsweat in here.”
“He playin’ wit’ that nigga dick.”
“Can you back up, nigga? Yo’ dick is touchin’ my leg…” There was some grumbling from the men now that they were naked. They were crammed in so close together that they were all over each other, limp cocks and hard muscles rubbing against each other as they pushed in closer to watch the action.
“You scared of my big meat touchin’ ya, huh? Don’t worry, he don’t bite. He treat you right if you just bend over, nigguh…”
“I swear to god, nigga, if you touch my dick one more time, I will lay you out!”
“Hey! No fightin’! All you niggas shut the fuck up. We all crammed into a li’l place, we all gonna be touching each other’s dicks. We all know that was gonna happen. Just chill out. None of us here is gonna ramrod no nigga. We ain’t in prison…” There was some tittering laughter, but aside from some grumbling here and there, the arguments more or less stopped.
Opening his mouth to tease the tip, Rob started slurping on the knob of Truck’s dick. It was veiny and so thick it felt like a muscle of its own beneath Rob’s fingers. He licked it and blushed as the watchings thugs whooped and laughed.
“He doin’ it! He handles dick like a slut too…”
“Shiiiiiiit!”
“That honky do it right!”
Rob reached out for another dick, grabbing a long, uncircumcised one. That was Rupert, the only Jamaican out of the one hundred — Rob loved Jamaican mandingos, but it was rare to find one who would ram him.
“Aw, mon…”
Rupert was as reluctant as any Jamaican, but he was desperate for money. He had grown up among American black men, who frequently boasted they didn’t mind being serviced by men, especially for money. So he was possibly the most nervous person here — none of these men would lose their reputations if word got out what they were doing, but Rupert would. He needed to repay some loans, though, so he had little choice. He sneered and looked away — Rob wasn’t even jerking him off yet. He simply thwacked Rupert’s dick against his face and made him joust with Truck. He suckled on both tips, licking both piss-slits.
When Rupert felt precum slide down his cockshaft, he gagged again. His dick was getting hard, which shocked him. He had wondered if he’d be able to perform, but now he had gotten an erection without even sticking his dick in any hole — this boner came from the friction of his dickshaft rubbing against Truck’s cock.
“Yoh buddy come like a… wet sponge, mon,” Rupert said, making some of the other men laugh. It did feel like a very wet sponge, he thought, with just a little give and plenty of moisture collecting on the surface.
Rob sensed that both Rupert and Truck were nervous about jousting. They both jumped when their cocks first collided, but both bristled with machismo. Neither wanted to admit they were self-conscious about it. Rupert especially didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that Truck’s cock was bigger than his or that Truck himself was thicker-bodied and visibly more muscular than Rupert’s lean frame. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest — it was easier when he didn’t have to see Rob suck on him like a sissy boy.
As Rob moved on from playing with both of those dicks to actually sucking on each one in turn, he felt thick, callused fingers lifting his ass into the air. A few of the thugs had said they didn’t want to ram Rob in the ass — Rob normally didn’t allow that; he could find enough men willing to hit him at both ends that he didn’t need to compromise — but in the end Rob had made some exceptions.
Luckily for him, one thug in particular was Samson Miles, who loved ass no matter who he had to ram. He was a middle-aged and massive, broad-shouldered thug with dark brown skin, a thick mustache and a deep, booming voice. He was grizzled like a shaved bear, with a deep and penetrating stare. Rob had found him as he walked out of prison a few days ago.
“Gonna plow you like a fuckin’ ox,” Samson said, laughing at himself. He was one of the few men besides Rob who got that “plow” and “ox” was wordplay, as he spent his incarceration reading, instead of chasing honeybuns and twink butt. His dick — just as long as Truck but not quite as thick — was already hard, and he guided it in without compunctions. He had been eager to get started. “See, nigga? This is how you do it! This is how you do it!”
In Samson’s eyes, he directed his words at Rico, a young prettyboy who been complaining about Samson’s jacking off — he was briefly in prison alongside Samson and was released yesterday with him. Rico was too nervous to pay much attention though, so he didn’t even realize Samson directed his words Rico’s way. At the state prison, most men messed with a few times, and Rico was no exception. But most of them had the decency to be ashamed of it. They didn’t bring it up, and they didn’t do it in public. They did it in hidden shadowy corners, or they set up a sheet as a curtain in their cell before getting started.
Samson, however, had never had any reluctance at all. He loved booty, and he didn’t really care whose ass he stuck his meat in. He slammed his dick into Rob’s ass, making a game of it as he tried to thrust so hard Rob couldn’t concentrate on the cock in his mouth. All Rob could do was keep his mouth open and let each nigga take a few turns on his throat.
“You like me in yo’ ass, sissy? Huh? I bet you do. I feel you, boy. I feel you good. I know you tryin’-a get my nut. Don’t you worry, boy, I won’t deny you dat. No way. Ol’ Samson gonna fill you up like a whore. You wanna be Samson’s whore? Course you do, boy. E’ry sissy wanna be my cumdump.”
Samson also didn’t see any reason to hold back from cumming. He had barely gotten started before he felt his orgasm approaching, and he wasn’t about to slow down — after all, if he didn’t cum now, he would have to do it after some other guys did. Samson didn’t mind having sloppy-seconds, or even tenths or whatever, but he would rather be the one who makes the seconds sloppy.
“Gonna make you real sloppy, sissy. Real sloppy.”
So when he came, he grabbed ahold of Rob’s hair, lifting his head up. Rob flailed and gripped tattooed brown muscles all around him, but the sensations were too intense for him to stroke. It was all he could do to moan and groan while Samson’s thick body rippled against Rob’s smooth back.
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, at the same time that someone else finally finished on Rob’s face. So he savored the flavor as his mouth filled up, and cum flowed into his ass. It tasted thick and buttery, its heat seeping into his skin. Since he couldn’t concentrate, Rob didn’t swallow. Semen dripped out past his lips and coated his cheeks and chin.
“Ah, damn, now we gettin’ into it. We broke the cumdump in…”
Samson was just as nasty — he laughed as the other niggas told him to stop, to let them take a turn. Someone even tapped him lightly on the ass, his plump cheeks jiggling, like he was a tag-team wrestler whose partner wanted in.
But Samson didn’t want to give up his turn yet. He wanted to leave his mark. His deep, booming laughter echoed as he kept on humping his now-limp dick in Rob’s tender ass. That had the effect of making his load into a big frothy mess. It trickled out of Rob’s hole through the sides of Samson’s dick, and then when he finally pulled out, huge bubbling clumps of cum flowed out. It coated Rob’s asscrack in Samson’s creamy seed.
“There, niggas. Them seconds is real sloppy,” Samson said, laughing as the others groaned in disgust.
Someone else finished on Rob’s face. Now that his ass was empty again — however briefly — Rob managed to swallow it deep. He savored the cummy flavor flowing over his tongue, and he let most of it drip out past his lips to make a bigger mess on his face.
The second man in his ass must have been stroking himself off hard, Rob thought, because he came right away. Another thug pushed nakedly through the crowd, his erect cock throbbing. “Outta my way, niggas, outta my way, I’m gonna blow-” and he didn’t quite make it in time. The first wad of his nut hit another thug on the thigh, but the rest made it onto Rob’s face, where is smeared over the trio of cocks there at the moment.
“You nutted on my leg, nigga!” someone roared.
A fight nearly broke out. There was some confusion about who had cum on whom — or maybe several people had accidentally done the same thing, Rob couldn’t even tell how many loads he had taken yet.
“Yo, no fightin’!”
“If you make us lose this thousand dollars, nigga… I swear to God!”
“What?! Try somethin’, nigga!”
But the older and cooler heads among them prevailed. It helped that all of the gangs represented here had a few leaders who could provide order and ensure peace, and Rob had promised those leaders an extra thousand dollars — to be disbursed later, when no one else was around — if they made sure the gangbang went smoothly.
Rob was surprised at how quickly they reached orgasm as they went, and how many of them came mainly from masturbating. A lot of them must have been watching intently and getting hard even though there were no women around — and Rob had forbidden porn from the scene.
Two thugs came at the same time in his mouth, the salty-sweet flavor of their cum distracting him from his thoughts. Rob guzzled it all down but made sure to play with both dicks too, so a lot of that cum covered their shafts before he sucked it back into his mouth. Those two thugs were Gariah and Bammy, a pair of identical twins. They specialized in gangbanging girls, just the two of them, and cumming simultaneously — they had initially tried it on a dare (and had been unsuccessful at timing it on that first occasion), but now managed to do it with every girlfriend either one had.
“Damn, simultaneous nuts! That was impressive, niggas.”
The pain in his ass went away as another fat cock slipped in his ass. The stout, tattooed thug who did that — Uggs was what he went by — groaned in disgust as cum leaked out and coated his dick and fingers. But it didn’t slow him down at all, and the cum probably helped, Rob thought, because it was an effective lube.
As Uggs approached his own orgasm, a thug named Sharnell appeared suddenly. He tried to ram his dick in as though Rob might get double-penetrated, but both dicks were way too big for that. So he just jabbed his cock in the direction of Rob’s ass, spraying his sudden cumload onto Ham’s cock.
“Oh, nigga! Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I dunno, man,” Sharnell said with a sheepish chuckle. “I wanted to cum in his ass and… I guess I got… y’know, confused…”
“You thought my dick was his asshole?” Uggs asked to assorted laughter. It looked like he was about to add something else, but he groaned and his eyes fluttered. He sprayed his own load into Rob’s guts, pulling out and letting another thug — Delroy — plump right in before Rob’s asshole had a chance to relax.
“Ugh, sloppy fifty-thirds…?”
“Somethin’ like that, at least fifty! How’s that feel? Huh, nigga? Yo’ dick be swimmin’ in cum!”
Delroy groaned like he was disgusted, but it didn’t slow him down any. “Don’t care, nigga, I love booty!” He play-kissed the air and laughed, as he plunged his cock into Rob’s moist, meaty goodness, and he laughed nervously when a great ball of filthy cum splashed up onto his ballsack.
Then another thug got involved — at first it looked as though he and Delroy might argue over Rob’s ass. But then they decided to take turns. Delroy mounted Rob from up high, while the other thug kneeled behind him. They each pushed their dick in once, then watched the other do so, frothing up all those loads and laughing at the mess they made.
Finally the both of them finished, spraying their loads onto Rob’s asshole just as a third nigga came out of nowhere to do the same. They all clasped hands and cheered each other on, no longer bothering to try to avoid splashback from each other’s loads. The prissiest men had cum first, probably, and a handful had simply jacked themselves off and cum on Rob — disappointing, but Rob wasn’t expecting them all to actually follow through. If all one hundred men took five minutes each, Rob would have to spend more than eight hours on this, and not even Rob’s ass could take that much punishment.
“Damn, let’s make this sissy the nastiest! Lookit that! I ain’t nevuh seen no female get this nasty!”
A lot of the finished guys held their clothes in their hands. They had all wanted to get dressed, but the first few niggas to finish stayed naked, watching intently, and the others just wanted to fit in. Nobody wanted to be the one who was so self-conscious he couldn’t handle being naked among the others.
They crammed in close to watch as the last few thugs finished cumming all over Rob. Their cocks rubbed against each other, leaving behind a residue of anal juices, cum and saliva. About half of them didn’t notice the dickmeat brushing up against each other, and the other half could think of nothing else.
Rob barely even noticed the final man approach. He was Tyrell, and he went last because he had bragged that he could. He didn’t meant to actually say he wanted to — what had happened was simply that he boasted how much of a horny mandingo he was, and the others had taken that at face value. Tyrell said he would ram anyone, in any hole, anytime, because he was a “real nigga” and “real niggas blow loads!”
When the others had teased him about going last, Tyrell instinctively agreed without thinking about it. That was not the first time he had mistakenly agreed to something due to his bravado, but, he thought as he approached Rob’s ass, this might be the worst time.
“Splash in!”
“Sloppy seventy-sevenths, nigga!!”
Tyrell bit his lip and slipped his cock in. When he was in prison last year, he had ramrodded a man several times. He had sloppy seconds once, and it was revolting. The other inmates teased him when he backed out and made the bottom wash up first, so Tyrell had changed his mind and slammed his meat into Rob’s ass so quickly that a big bubble of frothy cum had come up and popped. That had covered Tyrell’s crotch in sticky-white cum. He gagged then, but the other inmates clasped him on the back and encouraged him. ‘That’s how we do in this cell, baby! We get nasty!’ Tyrell had been proud of himself then. He even bragged about it to his father when he came for a visit, though his dad had smacked Tyrell in the face and told him “real niggas get nasty behind bars, but they don’t tell no one about it. What happens in there, stays in there.”
Tyrell gagged again at the feel of sticky cum dripping over his cock like alien goop. He was half-hard, hard enough he should be able to stick it in Rob’s ass, but he was nervous about touching so much cum. He didn’t know how many niggas had cum inside Rob, but it was at least fifty, probably more.
He tried to avoid using his hands, but his dick was not hard enough to just ram it in. He gingerly touched Rob’s cum-dripping asscheeks to pull them apart. There was so much cum there it was a bubbling out, no doubt making little fart-like noises though no one could hear that over the sound of niggas cheering.
“Get nasty, Tyrell!”
He took a deep breath and used his hand to guide it in. He gagged again but covered it up with a cough so no one knew how nervous he was. He prayed that he wouldn’t lose his erection. He couldn’t believe that he had agreed to go last — why didn’t he realize how gross this would be at the time? Of course the last nigga in a hundred-man slamfest was gonna get a nasty, loose asshole.
And it was loose. If it weren’t for the clumps of cum, Tyrell might have barely even felt the sides of Rob’s asshole. But as it was, he was just horny enough to stay hard as he forced his dick in. Great gobs of cum dripped from his fingers.
“Ah, shit, nigga, that is the most disgusting thing I evuh seen!”
Tyrell cheered. He liked hearing men clap and hoot at him. He knew they were teasing him, but he had always found that the best way to get past that was to pretend you loved whatever they teased you about. He grinned and growled. He even pounded on his chest, making his muscles jiggle as his hands dripped semen all over his dark brown flesh.
Finally, when he was on the verge of cumming, Tyrell groaned. He yelped as Rob pulled away from him, and his cock was temporarily visible to everyone — he had a big, brown veiny shaft that no one could see because it was coated in santorum. Dingy white cum, its pearlescence obviated by the anal juices mixed in, dripped off and onto the ground as his dick vibrated.
“Ah, shit, lookit that nasty meat!”
“That is one slutty sissy!”
Tyrell’s dick was only bare for a half a second or so, but that was enough time for everyone to see it. Tyrell himself gagged at the sight of his own meat soaked in other niggas’s cum. Seconds later, Rob turned around and licked a clean stripe on the underside of Tyrell’s dick.
The taste of ass-and-cum overwhelmed Rob’s senses. He groaned and moaned, letting out such a cringingly potent sound that everyone fell silent as they watched. The thugs leaned in, coming closer together, so everyone’s bare crotches and sweaty, gleaming muscles rubbed against each other.
“Ah shit, a champion slut for the ages!”
“You should teach my whores how to be this nasty, boy. You could give lessons and shit…”
“Ass-to-mouth! Ass-to-mouth!”
Rob licked every inch of Tyrell’s incredible meat. It tasted so bad and so good at the same time that Rob wished he had made them all do ass-to-mouth. He deep-throated that assy cock as he felt Tyrell’s balls crawl up in his sac.
After getting ninety-nine loads all over his body, Rob wanted to swallow this one. He moaned and gripped Tyrell’s asscheeks so tightly Tyrell couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. Tyrell’s massive dick throbbing in Rob’s throat before he finally shot his load.
His dick was aimed right down Rob’s gullet, so Rob didn’t taste any of that cum at first — he still tasted all the other cum that stuck to Tyrell’s cockshaft, but the actual fresh load was spurted too deep down his throat to taste it. Instead he felt it flow into his stomach, settling into a tight, warm, savory ball of lust deep in his belly.
“Oh, yeah, whiteboy, that is the way to do it…” Tyrell said with a moan, forgetting his anxiety about getting so much cum all over his body.
He kept on spraying. He leaned his head back and smiled at his fellow thugs as he finally finished, leaving his limp dick in place until every last drop was in Rob’s stomach. Then he pulled out, and Rob gagged again as that shiny shaft plopped out of his mouth.
“Hell yeah, nigga! You got him good!”
“Where’s our money? Huh, sissy?! We ain’t fight! We did what we s’sposed to,” someone shouted indignantly. Rob couldn’t see who that was, but whoever it was sounded annoyed that Rob hadn’t already given out the thousand dollars.
“Relax, relax,” Rob said, holding hands up for silence. “I haven’t even finished swallowing yet, chill out. I’ve got a thousand dollars for each of you. Why don’t you get dressed and form a line right here?” He leaned back and sighed.
They cheered and clapped their hands, waving their bare cocks in his direction. When this began, it was obvious who was in which gang because they clustered together. But now, that was no longer the case. They had seemingly forgotten about their differences and were lining up. They didn’t even notice that Rob had told them to get dressed first. Most of them were in line already, still stark naked.
That was fine with Rob, who stretched as he stood on his sore knees. Everywhere he looked were naked thugs, and he was already wondering if he could get any more action out of them.
He decided not to do that because it would take too long. He paid them with an app, of course, as he was definitely not bringing a hundred grand in cash to this event. As his phone whirred and worked, each thug had stand there while Rob paid him using one hand, his other hand caressing their muscles and their limp dicks.
All in all, it took nearly two hours to pay them all off, and by the time he was done, Rob was just about ready to go again. He smiled and leaned back in his chair.
Maybe I’ll do rednecks next, Rob thought. He had passed a trailer park on the way into Detroit, and that had looked promising. But first he wanted to simply sit back and finish basking in his post-orgasm glow.
And then he’d head over to the trailer park to get started.

The Volleyball Player

Rob isn’t interested in volleyball, until he overhears that one hunky player is in need of a few dollars. That’s something Rob can provide, in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!

Can Rob satisfy this volleyball jock’s carnal desires?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob happily munched on a taco, sitting on a bench near the beach. He watched the sorority girls splash each other. The sun shone brightly, and it lay a blanket of heat upon the beach. He hoped it wouldn’t dissuade the men from coming out, and indeed, the women soon proved an irresistible siren. This splendorous slice of California beach always attracted more women than men. That’s because there were three university campuses nearby, and all three were mostly women.
By eleven o’clock, sun-tanned young men were gathering in dribs and drags, and they made eyes at the girls, who made eyes back at them, and then mostly nothing happened, but it was cute to watch. Rob was a little old for this stuff. They probably saw him as “the old guy over there”. Luckily, there were a few older guys — like really old — so Rob didn’t come across that old.
One of them shot Rob a look like he was a creep. He was a bit young and slim for Rob’s taste, with a face like an overgrown infant, but Rob might have made an offer to him anyway. But Rob soon became entranced by a developing drama. That babyfaced fratboy seemed to have a crush on one girl who wanted nothing to do with him, while a different, somewhat thicker girl was all over him.
There was also a handsome dark-skinned man with long messy hair. Was he Brazilian? Rob overheard an accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. The man had a perfect six-pack, which Rob adored. He was a great admirer of the male form.
But the Brazilian man — if that was indeed what he was — did not look like a good prospect. He flashed a wad of cash when talking to a girl. A handsome man with cash and a girl already swooning over him was not likely to be willing to let Rob swing on his meat for a few dollars. That’s what he was hoping to find today on San Guapo Beach.
Rob was patient. He didn’t mind waiting. He loved beaches. He would gladly spend all day, or even multiple days, hanging out and waiting for a desperate man who might let him take a swing on their meat.
As the day wore on, San Guapo filled with college kids on spring break, including plenty of hefty, tanned and muscled young men who needed beer money and a ride home. Girls were too drunk to fuck most of the time, so the boys were frustrated and horny. It was prime hunting grounds for Rob.
He decided to go back to his hotel a little before noon. This part of the beach was filling up with family-types — women in one-piece bathing suits, carrying babies, and balding gray-haired men with paunchy bellies — so Rob left. Once the evening came he figured he’d be able to go back out, the beach would be crawling with young studs once again.
For now though, he was at a loss for what to do.
There was a crowd of people near the hotel’s part of the beach. Rob was interested and went closer — he didn’t normally hang out at the hotel’s bit of beach because his experience suggested those were the most scrubbed-clean, unexciting and banal beaches of all. It was impossible to do anything fun with corporate security goons on the lookout everywhere.
The Top Inn Hotel staff was here, Rob could see them scattered about, looking terrified of the crowd they had created. But the onlookers weren’t focused on anything but the match:
Volleyball.
It was a volleyball game. It was important enough for ESPN2 to be there filming. Now that Rob saw that, he recalled having seen a sign in the hotel to that effect. Was this a pro volleyball match? Was pro volleyball even a thing? He had no idea. Maybe Olympics qualifying or something.
Rob pushed into the crowd to watch. There were two teams of six playing. One was clearly the “away-team” — they were either Australian or New Zealander, judging from the flags on their shorts. The other were presumably locals, or at least American.
With some graceful shoving and sliding through the crowd, Rob got to the front, close enough that he could see the action and hear the grunts of the players when they struck the ball.
But he got to the front of the crowd only moments before the match was over. He had little interest in volleyball itself, so he didn’t much care about missing the game.
What he was sorry he missed was the guys — especially one guy in particular.
He was on the US team. He was tall and broad-shouldered, built like a jolly truck, with a hefty frame and a perfect six-pack. He was long-legged and long-armed, and he wore only short black shorts that extended just a few inches onto his thighs. Rob could tell his shorts were so short he had shaved the top of his pubic hair or it would have poked out above the elastic.
That volleyball player had a physique that Rob ached to admire. He wanted to taste his sweat-dappled shoulders so bad it hurt. He needed him. He wanted to suck the scruff off him. The blonde volleyballer ran his fingers through his confused blond mop of hair and said something frustrated, his words lost in the thrum and clamor of the dissipating crowd — his team had lost, and it seemed he and his teammates were upset with each other. They good-naturedly smiled for the ESPN2 cameras and shook their opponents’s hands, but they didn’t like it. Rob could sense it in them.
Rob milled about. He wanted that volleyball player. The man was obviously handsome enough to get a girl if he wanted it, but he seemed depressed. The women flocked to the winning team from down under — not only had they won, they had adorable accents. And Rob had to admit, they also had physiques he could get down with.
But they were not for Rob, he had eyes only for his beloved blond buck. He just needed to find a way to get him. Rob bought a bottle of water and drank it as though it was an important activity he couldn’t leave and do, so nobody noticed he was milling around for no reason. He waited for the herd to thin, and the cameras went into a van parked at the hotel. The excitement, such as it was, disappeared.
The argument between the blond and his teammates erupted out in the parking lot. Rob had casually walked out that way when they did. He didn’t catch the beginning of the argument, but he saw it end.
“I told you that wouldn’t work! Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Now we’re out ten grand-“
“Oh please, he was twenty minutes late, we nearly forfeited-“
“Maybe you ought to show up to practice once in a while!”
“Hey fuck you, none of this was my fault!”
“I’m the team captain, and I said we should-“
“Then it’s your fault!”
As they argued, they climbed into a jeep. At first Rob thought they were all going to squeeze into one soft-top jeep (with the soft-top removed, so there was plenty of room, more or less). It looked that way. But then just four of them slipped into that jeep, leaving two behind to continue arguing as though they didn’t notice the foursome in the keep was leaving without them.
“I told you that I had the better strategy-“
“But you never showed up to practice to tell us about it!”
“Oh come on, I skipped like two practices!”
“Yeah, but they were last week. You were out of practice today. You cost us that match, Hark!”
“Don’t you make accusations, you little pisshole, you served the ball like a goddamn cripple that one time-!”
“I made one error the whole game!” That blond — Hark was his name, it seemed — threw his hands in the air. He was the handsome blond with a bashful tangle of hair and a perfect body. Rob was entranced by the beads of sweat clinging to the pit in the small of his back — there were presumably fine little hairs there collecting the sweat — Rob knew most men had that, but he couldn’t see them because Hark was blond and his skin there was light — and he wanted to suck up every salty droplet. Hark’s shorts had slipped a bit as he walked to the parking lot, so the top of his asscrack was visible. He had big plump cheeks that Rob wanted to put his face between and blow. His asscheeks were pale as porcelain, but his shoulders and his face were browned by the sun.
“Well it cost us ten grand!” the other guy said. He threw his hands in the air. “I’m walking back!” he snapped, as though he had any other choice. The jeep had gone.
Hark stood there watching him go. He put his hands on his hips and ran his fingers through his hair. He scowled, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He forced an awkward smile on his face. Then he turned around and nearly ran into a complete stranger: Rob.
“Ah! Hey. Hi,” Hark said with a grunt. He was normally charming and outgoing, but it was hard to restart himself after that fight with his friends. It took him a moment to switch gears. He had a naturally jolly face when it wasn’t tense with frustration.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m cool,” Hark said. He shrugged. “I just… Things didn’t turn out how they were supposed to.” He added, “Obviously”, because he assumed Rob was a fan and was as disappointed as he was that his team lost.
“You poor baby… you wanna tell me about it?”
Hark looked at him suspiciously. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Rob Winthrop,” he said. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’ve got some weed. I’m not very good at rolling joints, but if you can roll one up for me-“
“Okay,” he said flatly. Then he blushed. “I mean… yeah, cool. I can roll joints. And I haven’t smoked in awhile cuz I was preparing for this match. Some good that did me.”
“I saw your match. You were really good,” Rob said. He didn’t mention that he watched about thirty seconds of it. “What was that fight all about?”
Rob of course didn’t really care. He was just making conversation. Hark explained to him all about the team’s conflicts as they walked back to the hotel, and Rob listened the best he could manage given the dullness of the subject. He had literally nothing to offer to a conversation on volleyball strategy and training regiments. Once Hark — Keith Harkness was his name, Hark to his friends — once Hark got into talking about it, his natural charm took over, and he forgot that this was a kind of weird experience — running into a random man and going back to his hotel room to smoke weed.
The smoking weed part was pretty normal for Hark. The rest of it was odd.
This wasn’t the first time Hark had met some fans he didn’t know and gone somewhere with them. It was weird that Rob was just one person and that he brought Hark back to his hotel room. Hark thought that was odd. But not bad, after all, and he really did want to smoke a joint. That would relax him after that disappointing match and the fight with his teammates. Later, after it was all over, he was stoned enough to get paranoid and wonder what would have happened if Rob was an axe murderer. But that did not occur to him until long after it didn’t happen.
“Man, volleyball used to be fun,” Hark said as they got to the room and Rob unlocked the door. Hark sighed. “I started playing volleyball when baseball got too serious in high school. People would get in fights about it and shit, Coach Shithead yelling at me. I just wanted to lay back and toss the ball around with my buddies, broh.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. He shut the door once Hark was inside.
“But now volleyball is all about making it to practice every day no matter what, and my girlfriend dumped me because I went to this match instead of her niece’s christening… it was complicated, but she’s got like, eight sisters, y’know, I can’t go to all their stupid shit. That’s like… all the time, y’know? They have so many kids — christenings like every week! I don’t have time for that! I went to her cousin’s friend’s baby shower! I didn’t get any credit for it because she got in a fight with her friend.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said, rolling his eyes. “The weed’s in this box.”
“Hell yeah.” Hark’s emotions dwindled once he saw the weed and had a task to complete. He didn’t even just roll one joint. He was stuck on auto-pilot, so once he started, he rolled the entire eighth of an ounce into small joints. He was an expert joint-roller, despite his big sausage-like fingers.
Rob could actually roll great joints. He had only asked Hark to do it to get him in the hotel room. In fact, two joints Rob had rolled last night were sitting in the box. Hark didn’t notice them or realize it suggested Rob was lying about being unable to roll joints.
As Hark worked on the joints, Rob cleared his throat. “So… were you counting on the money from that match?”
Hark nodded. “I kinda need it. I bought this jet-ski last month, and uh… the salesman misled me about the monthly bill.” He blushed. “I mean… It was complicated. There’s fees and like… percents.”
“Oh, you poor baby,” Rob said. He patted Hark on the bare meat of his shoulder. It was firm and warm from the sunlight and moist from his sweat. “I could help.”
“What?”
“If you ram me in the ass and you make me feel good like I know you can,” Rob said, “I’ll give you two grand. I know that’s not as much as you were gonna make-“
“That’s more than I was gonna get it from it. We had six guys and ten grand, I was getting less than two grand out of it,” Hark blurted out. He bit his lip and shifted his weight uncomfortably, like he wished he hadn’t said that so eagerly. “Plus there’s taxes, I mean… you’ll be giving me cash, right?”
“Right. No taxes at all. So this is a lot more than you’d be getting if you had won.”
Hark laughed again, a nervous quaver in his voice. “That’s weird, broh.”
“I know,” Rob said. “I’ll jerk you off so good. I bet I do it better than any woman you’ve been with. I have a nice tight ass too.”
“Really?” Hark laughed. “I mean…” He blushed. “I guess… Yeah… That’s cool.”
Rob didn’t want to dawdle. He immediately pulled Hark’s shorts down — Hark had to lift his ass to give Rob easy access to his crotch — and bared his dick. He didn’t wear any underwear under those shorts. Rob had guessed as much seeing his cock and balls flop around when he had jumped and run across the volleyball court.
But it was nice to see it in person. He had a big meaty dick just like his body, all thick and girthy and strong, pale like his skin. His pubic hair was deep black though.
Hark sucked in his breath and held it in. His cheeks blushed a deep ruddy tone that made Rob laugh quietly. Hark held an unlit joint in his hand as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, shorts down, looking like he expected to get smacked in the balls any moment now. He was ready to wince.
“Relax, Hark…” Rob said. He made his voice as feminine as possible to put Hark at ease. Then he lowered his head and kissed the tip of his dick.
It tasted like the beach, like flesh after sitting in the sun for hours. It radiated warmth, and the flavor of salty sand hit Rob’s tongue, as did the years of muscle-memory and strategy from Hark’s volleyball career. His hands roamed up Hark’s broad chest, while his mouth opened to swallow the tip of his manhood.
“Ah, oh…” Hark grunted like he had thought this would be painful and was surprised it wasn’t. He opened his eyes just in time to see Rob deep-throat him to the root.
A gasp escaped from Hark’s lips. He lifted his ass up off the bedspread, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. He was exhilarated suddenly, his anxiety vanishing in the face of the intense pleasure that rocketed through him.
He had been hornier than he thought. He was so upset about the match and nervous about being on TV, angry at his teammates and anxious at the situation with Rob that he hadn’t really given much thought to how this would feel. He had thought it was something he would just get over because he needed the money. It would be like mopping a floor — not pleasant by any means, but not the worst way to make a few dollars, and once you got started, you could just put on some Jimmy Buffett and think about something else.
That was what he did now. He put Jimmy Buffett on his cell phone, the tinny speakers filling the air and overpowering the sound of the dome. Hark had trouble concentrating after a few seconds because it felt so good. His hands shook with his cell phone hovering above his body before he could gain enough focus to get the music started.
The lit joint fell loose on the bed, both Hark and Rob having forgotten about it.
His dick rocketed to full erection in Rob’s mouth as Rob slammed his own head down deeply. His nose nuzzled the silky pubic hair of Hark’s crotch, while his hands reached up to tweak both nipples at once. Hark had big hefty pecs — Rob had been mesmerized watching them bounce when he jumped during the game, and now they bounced because they flexed under his fingertips.
“Goddamn!” Hark threw his head back and breathed through his gritted teeth. He laughed. “I never had dome like this.” He peered down at Rob, who greedily, moistly suckled on his dick as though trying to remove it. He slurped on it so hard it almost hurt, and Hark laughed harder to cover up his nervousness.
The sour and salty taste of precum hit Rob’s tongue. He guzzled it all down, making eye contact with Hark’s surprised face. The moist sounds of Rob gurgling on precum were loud enough to overpower the sound of Jimmy Buffett singing about the last mango in Paris.
“Are you ready to stick it in me? I wanna feel you inside me,” Rob said. He grinned and stood. Precum flowed freely down the shaft of Hark’s dick even though Rob wasn’t touching it now.
Hark clapped his hands, eyes giddy and heart beating. He’d never actually had anal sex — his dick was too big for any of his girlfriends to do that. He’d always wanted to try it though.
Rob rubbed lube into his own ass and bent over. He was going to sit on Hark’s lap, but Hark stood — he thought it seemed more manly to bend Rob over the bed so Hark could be on top.
“Ah, man…” Hark laughed again, as he always did when he was nervous. His cock throbbed. Precum dripped down his shaft. He ran his fingers through his tangled blond mop again, then watched Rob spread his cheeks. His tight dark hole winked, beckoning. Hark gulped. Was he really going to do this? Would he tell people about it? If not, he’d have to pretend he was still in need of money to pay for the jet ski.
Hark took a deep breath and slipped his dick in, just the tip at first. He felt resistance and stopped. He bit his lip. A bit more slid into Rob’s ass, which was well-lubed enough it felt like a trap, like quicksand and once Hark’s dick touched it, it was slowly sucked in more and more.
It was awkward, weird, his asscheeks strangely cold. It didn’t feel good at all at first — it wasn’t painful, it just didn’t feel like anything. Hark wondered if he was going to have to stop this.
And then a wave of pleasure hit him. He had been so nervous it didn’t happen right away. Once it did, however, it felt better than he thought possible. It was way better than being with a woman, he realized, because there was less pressure — he was so sure that Rob wanted him badly that it didn’t matter if Hark didn’t do it that good, or did it for too long or too short a time, or if his dick was too big, small, skinny or thick. He could just go with all his might without worrying about any of that.
He gripped Rob’s asscheeks and forced his dick in until his balls slapped against Rob’s flesh. A surge of sensations hit Hark, whose smile turned to an intense grimace. He let out a long low howl that was audible outside the hotel room.
Rob used one hand to jack himself off, while his other tightened into a claw that dug into the bedspread beneath himself. He panted, the potent feelings that coursed through his veins growing with each thrust of Hark’s dick into him.
“Oh god, shit, yeah, broh,” Hark cried out. He realized he was being loud — he had a deep voice so it carried well, it was difficult for him to say anything very quietly — but he couldn’t help it. It felt so good it was like losing his virginity all over again.
He sprayed a massive wad into Rob’s ass, great creamy wads of it coating Rob’s insides and seeping into him. Hark’s heavy balls crawled up in his sac, and still more sticky cum flowed into Rob.
Rob shot his own wad too, into his palm and on the mattress beneath him. But he stayed there, letting his ass get it hard over and over. Hark didn’t stop even when he was done. He kept moved his dick around as it limpened, turning all the creamy cum in Rob’s ass into a big wad of foamy juices that soaked onto the sheets.
“Damn…” Rob howled as loud as he could — which wasn’t very loud. When Hark’s dick finally plopped out, Rob sighed and shuddered. His exquisitely sensitive ass was so potent it hurt and he couldn’t breathe; it was all he could do to experience the climax rocketing around inside him.
Then, Rob collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. He looked up at Hark’s ruddy body. “You wanna lay with me for awhile? The cash is in my pants pocket.”
Hark didn’t respond for a long time. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to decide what to do — should he leave or stay to cuddle? Should he do it again? If so, should he demand more money? He found the cash in Rob’s pocket, but still wasn’t sure.
Then he saw that tender ass, plump and bare and ready for him to go again. “Aw, hell,” Hark said. He climbed into bed and lay next to him. “I guess I could give you your money’s worth.” He placed his arms behind his head, accentuating his chest muscles and baring his armpits. He looked surprised to see Rob smile and suck on his nipples. Rob licked his chest and his neck. Hark sighed. “Thanks, man.” He found the joint he had dropped earlier, which singed the pillow, and he puffed on it.
“No, thank you,” Rob said. For now, he thought, he was right where he wanted to be. He had found the kind of man he was hoping to find when he came to California.

The Politician

When Avery lobbies a presidential candidate on some pet issues, he didn’t realize what he was in for! The studly Governor Harold Tamperton is ready to give Avery the reacharound of a lifetime in exchange for political support, an exchange that’s worth every penny to Avery!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery sighed. Was Mr. Tamperton going to stand him up? He would have thought not — Avery was representing an important lobby group, and Mr. Tamperton’s campaign was who set this up. They reached out to Avery, not the other way around. Now Mr. Tamperton was an hour late. Avery had come to assume politicians would always be late — that was in their DNA. A part of him had believed Charlie Tamperton’s claim that he would be different. A part of him hoped Tamperton would be different.
But mostly, Avery suspected that Charlie Tamperton would not be different at all.
The hotel lobby was fashionably minimalist, with carpet softer than most mattresses and of the most exquisitely vibrant shade of white Avery had ever seen, it was sort of an electric white, like the white equivalent of neon pink, and it was spotless. Shockingly spotless, like fresh off the factory, not a single smudge or mote of dullness. That and an odd statue were the only things of note in the vault-like minimalist “splendor” of the Granger Ben Hotel.
Minimalist doesn’t mean spending less on decor, it means spending more on less decor. The elite will always spend to make sure the peons know they can. In the olden days, they did so by hiring a hundred artisans to work for a lifetime decorating every inch of a cathedral. Now they hire the equivalent in man-hours to create, install and clean a fantastically expensive alabaster carpet that gets steam-cleaned every ten minutes and one statue that was hard to identify but might have been a goat in a bathtub and which may have had a feminist bent. Avery couldn’t quite put his finger on what was feminist about it. It had a plaque, but he was not going to read a goddamn plaque about a feminist, like in a museum, but anyway, both the goaty shape and the bathtubby shape had a feminist air about them. So instead of hiring stonecarvers and woodworkers to build a cathedral for seventy years, they pay a couple million up front for some absurdly dumb feminist goat in a feminist bathtub and a million or two in wages over many years to various cleaners, installers, repairers, etc. They spend just as much, but they call it minimalist.
Avery would rather employ stonecarvers and woodworkers than feminists and cleaning crews. Plus, there’d be more to look at when he sat here twiddling his thumbs like a fucking idiot, waiting an hour and a half for that billionaire shitheel Charlie Tamperton. Avery was definitely deleting his dumbass apps. Except the one with the ostrich that finds coupons.
“There you are, Mr. Flowers,” said a suited man who appeared next to Avery, startling him. How he snuck up to Avery in a minimalist hotel lobby, with nothing to hide behind except six uncomfortable chairs, ten dead-eyed staff and a goat-in-a-bathtub’s worth of feminism, Avery will never figure out. Somehow the Asian man with the dead eyes and swampy cologne managed to surprise him. He gave Avery a polite nod. “I’m Delaney Chu, Mr. Tamperton’s campaign manager. He’s ready to see you now.”
Avery nodded and shook his hand, wondering where Tamperton had come from — Avery was sitting in the front lobby of the hotel, and he hadn’t seen Tamperton enter. He must have slipped in through a service entrance, presumably to avoid the mob of journalists outside. The Democratic primary was heating up, and Tamperton was no doubt being followed by both the press and his opponents’s trackers.
“Mr. Tamperton is very excited for this opportunity,” Delaney said. “He’s wanted to reach out to the legitimate-massage community for a long time. Honestly it’s my fault he hasn’t, blame me for that. He’s been telling me for months that we’ve got to make some allies there. And he’s totally right.”
“I see,” Avery said. He didn’t really believe Delaney — not that he thought Delaney was lying, exactly, but it made sense for Mr. Tamperton to focus on consolidating the main wings of the Democratic Party. He had risen to prominence with a series of sharply worded statements in accordance with Avery’s views, including a harsh eye aimed at the prostitution industry, especially the semi-legal massage parlors that make it hard for legitimate companies to operate. Avery’s business couldn’t compete in advertising with literally all of the city’s pimps and hookers, but many city governments across the country had decided it was better to the semi-tolerate semi-legal semi-businesses of pimps and madams, and they had no interest in supporting the operations of legitimate massage companies. Avery had formed and then found himself in charge of a lobby group devoted to legitimate-massage businesses, and as the presidential race heated up, Avery found his little pressure group rising to the top of the Democratic Party. That wasn’t because it was a huge pressure group, precisely the opposite. All the huge pressure groups had committed to a candidate months or years ago. Avery’s was one of the few groups that hadn’t yet committed to a candidate.
The immigrant-rights community nationwide had rallied around Avery and rocketed him to the top of the Democratic Party’s primary polling in the early months. That was not his intent — a lot of immigrants were masseurs, that was why. So the conventional wisdom was that candidates could nail down Avery’s endorsement and garner votes from the anti-prostitution folks and the immigrants.
Now that the first primaries and caucuses loomed closer, some of the more minor candidates were getting traction. Mr. Tamperton’s endless barrage of media-grabbing statements dominated the news, while Vermont Governor Paul Thandrasepkatar got some key endorsements, especially from a handful of celebs. Tamperton had come out on the wrong side of the police brutality debate, which made it hard for the ultra-leftists to support him. Governor Thandrasepkatar had come out in support of some popular things, which Mr. Tamperton couldn’t support without being seen as a flip-flopper. So despite Tamperton’s initial success, Governor Thandrasepkatar was vacuuming up support.
Avery represented one of the few immigrant civil rights organizations that hadn’t yet endorsed Thandrasepkatar, and he knew Tamperton was going to be desperate for a way back in to the good graces of the immigrant community. He wondered what Tamperton would say today to dominate the news cycle tomorrow, and he hoped it wasn’t at his expense.
Of course none of that had anything to do with legitimate massage. But more than two-thirds of the dues-paying businesses in Avery’s lobby group were owned by immigrants, and there were a lot more immigrants than legitimate massuers in this country.
Avery was so lost in thought he didn’t notice that Delaney was taking him downstairs, to the basement. He wasn’t going to a hotel room at all.
In the basement of the hotel — the basement had no decoration either, just more spotless white in the form of painted walls, which again had no smuges or fingerprints or faded spots —Delaney brought Avery past the pool. They stopped in front of a door marked SAUNA. He smiled and held the door open, motioning for Avery to squeeze in past the pair of burly bodyguards who stood sentry.
“Mr. Tamperton is getting a steam,” Delaney said. “But he’ll see you now. Feel free to take off your clothes.”
There was a little changing area in the front of the sauna. Avery entered and nervously took off his clothes. He had always loved saunas — that was his favorite part of his recent trip to Finland. It was only as Avery wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the sauna that he realized he had posted about the trip, and his effusive love for saunas, on Facebook.
That was why Tamperton arranged for a meeting here. He looked through Avery’s Facebook timeline until he found out what he liked: saunas. It felt like pandering, it was patronizing. It was hard to take notes in the steamy sauna too, which made Avery wonder if Tamperton’s plan was to prevent Avery from keeping a record of what he said.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Flowers,” Mr. Tamperton said. His face was shrouded by steam. “Please, call me Tamperton. Don’t you love this sauna? It’s the greatest, I’m a yuge fan of saunas. The steam is wonderful for the skin.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Avery said. “Well… Tamperton, I’m sure you realize why I agreed to meet with you. The organization I represent-“
“Wait, wait, Avery, let’s not jump right into business,” Mr. Tamperton said. “Let’s just chat a bit. I’d like to get to know you.”
Avery shrugged as he sat down. The sauna was so misty and dim that he hadn’t seen Tamperton until he got to the bench he sat on. That’s when he clocked that Tamperton was stark naked, not even wearing a towel around his waist.
His body was more powerful than it seemed when he wore a suit on television, Avery thought. Tamperton had a barrel chest, not at all saggy from age, and though the hair on his head was ruddy and balding, the hair on his chest was fresh, dark and just thick enough to grab nd hold onto. He was stronger than Avery had thought he would be, and perhaps most surprisingly, he had a massive cock resting between his sweaty thighs.
This was definitely not how Avery had expected this interview to progress. He wondered how he could bring this up at the next meeting without looking like a Tamperton fanboy excited to see his crush’s cock. That wasn’t at all how Avery felt He had never thought of Tamperton as having an excellent physique until just now, when his naked, sweat-dappled body was right in front of Avery’s eyes.
And now Avery found his eyes drawn to that magnificant cock.
“How are you enjoying the campaign?” Avery asked, nervous at sitting next to someone so intensely masculine, not to mention a powerful billionaire. The humid sauna-sweat glistened on his broad chest and shoulders, and when he touched his own chin, he left a trail of moisture that ran down his the curves of his pecs in rivulets.
“I’m enjoying it plenty, I love this kind of scrappy repartée, the exchange of ideas, the Sturm und Drang of it all,” he said. “The one problem is that I never see my wife.”
“That’s tough. Being president is even tougher though,” Avery said. A part of him had always been worried that Tamperton wasn’t serious — being president wasn’t like being CEO of a professional rugby team (that was one of Tamperton’s high-profile business ventures). He was going to have to be on duty all the time.
“Sure, sure, I can’t wait. I’ll enjoy that, honestly. My wife will be there in the White House with me. She can’t travel on the campaign trail with me, but she would gladly move into the White House. She’s already picking out curtains,” he said. Then he cleared his throat nervously. “Look… I’m gonna have trouble concentrating on this interview if we don’t do something about…” He gestured towards his crotch. “Without my wife at my side at nights, I need another way to let off a little steam.” He laughed as he gestured to the steam that filled the sauna.
“I’m sorry, Tamperton?”
“Do you want to jerk me off?”
“… I’m sorry, Tamperton?”
“Of course you can’t put it in your article. I’ll deny it. Not even my bodyguards out there know what we’re doing in here,” he said. He shrugged. “You don’t have to. I just thought you were the kind of man who knows your way around a cock.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been checking me out.”
Avery nodded and blushed.
Before he could do anything else, Tamperton leaned in and kissed him. Avery was so shocked he just sat there like a dead fish at first, then shoved his tongue in Tamperton’s mouth. They collapsed onto the sauna bench, with Tamperton on top of Avery, his burly body weighing him down and his heavy cock pressing into Avery’s thigh.
“Oh… Mr. Tamperton-“
“Call me Tamperton.”
“Tamperton…!”
Tamperton kissed a trail down Avery’s neck and chest. He suckled on each nipple until it was hard, and he smiled at Avery. “You see, I do respect immigrants. I love the immigrants. Not to mention massage. Massage has helped so many of my rugby players with physical ailments.” His breath condensed on Avery’s nape. “I’ll do whatever I can to help the industry.”
“I see…”
His back arched as pleasure shot through him. Tamperton gave his dick a few strokes. It pulsated between Tamperton’s thick fingers, as Avery dragged his own fingers through Tamperton’s thinning reddish hair. The body heat emanating off Tamperton merged with the humid warmth of the sauna, and Avery found his hands moving over the well-worked muscle of Charlie Tamperton’s chest and back.
Then Tamperton lowered his head, as he kissed Avery again on the lips, then the chin, the neck, and a moan of passion came out of both men. Avery sucked in his breath.
This was not how he thought this little foray into lobbying would pan out.
His hands fluttering and running all up and down Tamperton’s well-muscled back, Avery leaned back, thinking Tamperton would soon stop kissing. But no, his kisses moved lower and lower.
Then, before Avery knew it, Tamperton’s mouth encircled Avery’s dick. Avery was astonished to feel his lips on Avery’s cock, but he was too aroused to even process what was happening. He continued lowering his head, still holding his breath as his heart raced, until Avery was laying on the sauna bench on his back. He reached for Tamperton’s crotch, and he hefted that fat erection in one, then both, hands.
With Tamperton atop him, Avery and he arranged their bodies to sixty-nine, with Tamperton on top, his plump, piggish prick aimed right for Avery’s mouth. He was so huge and heavy that Avery could barely wrap his arms around Tamperton’s body.
Avery opened up, feeling that familiar sensation of hot meat invading his throat. His fingers clenched Tamperton’s thick back and ass, as precum invaded his mouth. Avery sucked vigorously, deep-throating and swallowing every inch of his meat. They writhed together, in unison, and for a little while, Avery forgot that Tamperton was part of the political and business elite.
Tamperton’s muscles tightened and flexed above Avery. Tamperton was in much better shape than he had seemed, and Avery could feel the power bristling just below the surface of his body. He had the muscle of the rugby players he employed, Avery thought, wondering if he worked out with his athletes. He was a tech guy, originally and mainly, Tamperton built his business off apps. But he was never a slim computer geek, and his patronage of the American Rugby League was well-known.
The rugby players probably sauna together, Avery realized as he slurped on the savory cock invading his throat. Tamperton might sauna with them.
He loved the man’s body hair too, just thick enough to be unkempt and furry, but not so thick as to be dirty or offputting. He smelled clean and strong, even his dick and despite the sauna-induced sweat that covered his body. His balls were thick and heavy, without the old man-droopiness that Avery had rather assumed he would have.
Precum flooded Avery’s mouth. He enjoyed the sour and salty flavor of precum, not to mention the creamy texture, and he savored it in his mouth now as well. He let it coat his tongue, which ran up and down Tamperton’s veiny shaft. Avery was leaking precum too, and Tamperton swallowed it like he was well-practiced. Avery wondered how often Tamperton had done this before.
He did not do it like a man exploring something new. He did it like this was old hat.
“Wait,” Tamperton said, pulling out just as Avery neared his orgasm. His hefty body hovered above Avery, who gasped in desperate need for more. His cocktip dangled tantalizingly near, just centimeters above Avery’s head. Tamperton smiled. “I’m gonna ram you now, okay? In the ass. I need a tight booty, and I can tell you are gonna be taut as a drum.” He caressed Avery’s smooth belly and added, “I’m gonna tap your ass good, Avery. You won’t be walking straight for a week. You like it like that?”
Avery nodded. “Hell yeah.”
“Do I have your endorsement?”
“I…” Avery gulped. “I need your support on-“
“Of course, of course. The proposed legislation, right? The Massage Rescue Plan? I can absolutely support that, and I promise, if elected president, I will do everything possible to ensure it gets through Congress,” he said. He stood, letting his erection bob around afront Avery’s face. Avery chased it with his tongue until he sensed Tamperton’s bemused gaze.
Then Avery serioused up. Despite his own erection and his strong desire to handle Tamperton’s, Avery only shrugged. “Well then, I guess we can support you — it’s not entirely up to me, you know?”
“I understand. Just tell them what I said — what I said about the Massage Rescue Plan — and that you believe me,” Tamperton said. He teased his knobtip on Avery’s lips. “You do believe me, don’t you?”
“Fuck yes!” Avery exclaimed. He felt bad about selling out his endorsement so easily, but he reasoned that it wasn’t really up to him anyway. He’d tell his committee the political promises Tamperton made, and if that was enough, they’d take their endorsement public. Supporting that in private was the most Avery could do. He wasn’t sure Tamperton understood that, but Avery was not in a position to explain the nuances of his lobby group’s mechanisms.
In one smooth motion, Charlie Tamperton stood, holding Avery in his powerful arms. He flipped Avery over, then bent him over the bench and spread his asscheeks. Avery’s knees went weak even before penetration began. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him, and he wondered if anyone would believe him if he told. Probably not, he decided as Tamperton’s broadly muscled chest rippled behind him, rubbing on Avery’s smooth back.
Tamperton must have had a bottle of lube hidden somewhere nearby, because Avery felt that slippery coldness, which was a pleasant sensation contrasting with the humid warmth of the sauna. The lube slid into his ass and spread to every corner, making him feel all slippery inside. Already Avery felt Tamperton’s hot cock throbbing against the small of his back, and Avery had to hold back a chest-rattling howl of desire.
“Here it comes, Avery, be ready for it,” Tamperton said, using his toned arms to hold Avery in place. The fact that he said Avery’s name turned him on — it felt good to know he was on a first-name basis with someone like this. People often treated him as though he should have personal connections in the government and business elite because of his position in this lobby group, but he didn’t, until now. Tamperton was the only major politician he’d ever met.
“I’m ready…”
A burst of pleasure erupted in his ass as Tamperton’s thick meat pushed inside. Avery gasped and writhed in his arms, struggling to take in its thickness. He reached behind himself with one hand to guide it in, so he could only support himself with the other hand.
Tamperton wrapped both arms around Avery’s body and held him tight, lifting him up so he didn’t have to support himself on his hands at all. Avery’s feet were barely on the floor at all. He ground his ass into Tamperton’s crotch, while feeling his hairy chest grind against Avery’s back.
“Oh god… I secretly love your budget proposal,” Avery blurted out. He hadn’t meant to say that, hadn’t even really thought it firmly to himself. But he felt so good that his internal filter disappeared, and so he moaned on a few more words about tax rates and progressivity before losing track of his thoughts.
“Really? I’m glad you like it, Avery…” His voice was low and guttural, aimed directly in Avery’s ears. Again, when he said Avery’s name, it sent a shiver of sexual energy up Avery’s spine, which caused him a spasm of pain and pleasure as it made his ass twinkle. Avery wondered if Tamperton knew how arousing it was to hear him call out Avery’s name.
One of Tamperton’s hands crept around to Avery’s dick and began stroking it. Avery was already so close to orgasm that his whole body twitched and pulsated as though his touch was painful. Avery moaned so loud he wondered if the bodyguards outside could hear, but if they did, they didn’t say anything or even poke their head in.
Despite Avery’s animated response to his touch, Tamperton didn’t slow down. He forced his dick in and out, hard enough that Avery felt overwhelming agony that was drowned out by the bliss emanating from his ass. He moaned around the thick arm that caressed his neck and face.
He finally shot his load just as Tamperton reached his own climax. Hot cum sprayed from his dick and covered the bench beneath him. Avery moaned and squirmed beneath Tamperton’s grasp. His back rippled as his muscles all tightened at once, and Tamperton held him tight. It felt like they were melting together, becoming one person, and Avery even had a momentary fantasy of him moving into the White House with Tamperton.
Wad after wad of creamy seed burst forth within Avery’s spasming body. It coated his insides and dripped down his legs as Avery’s spine undulated. Pleasure coursed through his veins. He gasped and fell limp, supported only by Tamperton’s strong arms.
Then it was over. Avery had no idea how long it had lasted. His orgasm felt like it might have gone on for hours, though he knew that was impossible — Tamperton’s retinue would have come in to get him by now. He must not have been as loud as it felt like he was too. Bodyguards would definitely have come in if they heard Avery scream the way it sounded in Avery’s own ears.
Tamperton pulled out, sending a shiver of relief up Avery’s back. His jizz continued seeping through his body and dripping down his thighs. Tamperton whistled his appreciation. “That was nice, Avery,” he said. “Reminds me why I’m not loyal to women. They don’t do it like that, and if they did, they’d still want to cuddle and talk about feelings afterwards. You don’t want to do that, do you, Avery?”
“No,” Avery said. The last thing he wanted to do now was talk about feelings. Cuddling did sound appealing, but once the orgasmic afterglow wore off in a few minutes, he’d be tired of it and their bodies would be hot and sticky.
“Good,” Tamperton said. He held Avery close in his powerful arms, where Avery felt safe and protected. He could see why people supported Tamperton politically — even if he was obviously full of hot air, he was confident and swaggerous, and it made Avery feel less vulnerable to be there scooped up in his arms.
“That was amazing, Mr. Tamperton… Tamperton, I mean,” Avery said. “Are you really a big supporter of the legitimate-massage industry?”
“I really am. It’s vital to the athletes who work for me, and I have always insisted that my companies offer massage as part of the healthcare and benefits package,” he said with a deep breath. “I’m so glad to have your support. I look forward to your organization campaigning with me.”
“that’s really up to the board,” Avery said. He blushed as he straightened out his sore legs — he thought Tamperton was right about him not being able to walk straight for a little while, at least not without concentrating intensely. “But I’ll recommend we come out to support you.”
“Thank you, and Avery?”
“Yes,” Avery said as Tamperton stood up and headed towards the door.
“When I win, I want you to visit me in the White House. You can arrange that, right?”
“That won’t be a problem,” Avery said.
“Good. We can have a wau-wau and… do other things, things that are definitely going to be off the record,” Tamperton said with a knowing grin. “The Lincoln Bedroom will never be the same.”