in a sauna – Mansploitation

The Cocky Guido

Avery is at the Jersey Shore, where he finds himself servicing a cocky guido named Freddie. He can’t get enough of that Italian slab of manmeat!

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Read the whole thing here!

Most guidos were actually fat or skinny. They were arrogant, orange-skinned prettyboys who weren’t even pretty. The men at the gym had turned out to be a bitter disappointment.
That was the Cornerside Gym of Northtown Meadows in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Avery worked there. Cornerside Gym had a reputation nationwide as a place for serious meatheads, weightlifters, boxers, etc., and the gym didn’t even accept women as members except where legally required to.
Seaside Heights, New Jersey, was not one of those places, so no women ever came into Cornerside except as cleaners at night. Avery didn’t mind that one bit. He enjoyed watching men work out, and he greatly appreciated the physiques of the men who worked out here. Seaside Heights was on the Jersey Shore, so a lot of those men were guidos.
It wasn’t like the guidos from that teevee show though. In the real world, most guidos were fat, or at least the ones who came to Avery’s gym were pretty tubby. They didn’t seem to realize it though. They carried themselves like they had good bodies they wanted to show off. One of them even once pulled up his shirt and smacked on his protruding belly as he insulted a skinny nerd in the locker room, even though the skinny nerd was in better shape than he was.
It was disconcerting. More than once, Avery wondered if he had wandered into an alternate reality where the standards for having a good body had changed. Still though, there was something about their cocky confidence that was arousing even when their bodies weren’t perfect, and sometimes they had both the perfect body and the cocky confidence.
Those, of course, were Avery’s favorites. One of them was Freddie Rizzoli.
Freddie walked out of the weight room one afternoon wearing nothing but sandals and a pair of sweat-marinated basketball shorts. Freddie was short and squat, too muscular for his body size, like he had trouble supporting so much muscle, yet he didn’t have that awkward-bodybuilder shape either — he looked too muscular only because he was so short, he packed more power than seemed possible into a small space.
“That’s right, man, fuck it! I told them how it is!” He pounded on his chest, talking to some friends as they all headed into the locker room. His bare chest flexed. He ran his fingers through his greasy slicked-back hair. “I don’t even play like that, man, swear to God! No disrespect, baby!”
Avery blushed and looked away. He hoped he didn’t look too obvious. He went about his business, ignoring Freddie and the other guidos. He heard them grunting and encouraging each other as they did bench presses. They were touchy, gripping each other’s muscles and casually masaging each other’s shoulders in between sets. When walking by, he even saw Freddie laying on that bench press with those sweat-soaked shorts clinging to his flesh. The outline of his huge, uncut cock was clearly visible pressing against the fabric of the shorts. It left nothing to the imagination.
When Freddie lifted, he grunted and his dick twitched. Avery drooled a little. He hurried away. Avery’s own cock was rock-hard, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Freddie. He rushed home to jack off.
But then he didn’t see Freddie at the gym next time he went. Avery was disappointed.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he saw Freddie again, still with those same couple of friends — he seemed to spend all of his time with them. Freddie ran his fingers through that over-brushed mop of straight, crunchy hair as he went into the locker room, having finished his workout, muscles drenched in sweat and cradled by the too-tight tank top he wore. Avery wondered if he could come up with an excuse to go into the locker room to check Freddie out. He blushed even though he was alone, not wanting to feel like such a lush.
But Freddie and his friends remained in there for only a minute or two. They returned with towels around their waists, having taken off their shirts. Avery watched sweat gleam on Freddie’s chest — which was freshly shaven, and not at all orange (Freddie actually tanned using sunlight, unlike most of his friends).
“Man, it’s just head,” Freddie said to one of his buddies, with a haughty chuckle, “you shouldn’t be picky about head.” He grabbed his dick through the towel around his waist.
“Why not?”
He laughed as though the answer should be obvious: “Cuz then you might get less. A mouth is a mouth, after all. So long as it’s warm and wet, who cares what she looks like?” His friends snorted and agreed with him, except for the one who had asked the question. Avery didn’t mean to follow them, but they went in the same direction he went. They went to the sauna, whereas Avery intended to walk past the sauna to go to the employee lounge. Freddie glanced at him and nodded his chin in his direction. “Fat girls love suckin’ dick,” he said quietly, like he thought Avery would scold him for being crude.
“Ain’t that nasty?”
“You ain’t gotta look down, do ya?” Freddie said as he went in the sauna, friends following behind him. They guffawed and slapped Freddie on the back. Freddie’s dimpled face, wide-eyed and exhilarated, was visible through the little window in the sauna door.
Wow, he is a champion douchebag… That was one aspect of guido life that came through on TV loud and clear. Avery didn’t like men because they were nice though.
He liked men with muscles and machismo and manhood to spare, and Freddie as exactly that sort of man.
Avery was disappointed that he didn’t get to watch Freddie any longer. Unfortunately, the sauna was one of the few spots in this gym where he couldn’t justify simply walking in whenever he wanted. Staff normally stayed out of there, and there was no storage or anything else he might have been able to use as an excuse. Plus, he had some actual job responsibilities he needed to get back to eventually.
For now though, he kept an eye on the little window in the door though. He was able to watch Freddie’s shoulder muscles flex as he laughed. The sight of his muscles and the sound of his arrogant alpha-male laughter made Avery’s dick twitch and harden up in his pants.
Avery was about to walk away to jack off alone when he heard some low murmured comments in the sauna, followed by more chortling laughter. It was very loud this time, loud enough to startle Avery from his daydream. From the tone, he guessed somebody had made some sort of scandalous joke. Something about the sound made him stand flat against the wall, listening the best he could.
A part of him could tell that they had been talking about him. The hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stood on end. He couldn’t put his fingers on what made him think that until he heard their words, but he was certain of it even before he listened.
“Man, that ain’t what I’m sayin’!” Freddie insisted, his voice audible through the door. It sounded like he was trying to stay light-hearted, to prove this wasn’t a big deal, whatever it was. Avery could hear him rolling his eyes in there as his friends laughed at him, a forced smile on his face to make himself seem easygoing even though he wasn’t. “A mouth is a mouth is all I’m saying. That’s how they did it in the Old Country-“
“As though you know, man.”
“Fuck you, bitch, say that to my face!” Freddie barked and everyone fell silent. That part was clearly audible outside the sauna. Then Freddie cleared his throat and chuckled like he hadn’t just snapped. “Yo, I been there, you know that. In Sicily, man, if you act like some disrespec’ful punk, man, you get on ya knees, boi! Verità!” He laughed cruelly. “I ain’t done it myself, but I know how shit goes down. My uncle got this one punk who owe him money, man, he puts that bitch in his place e’ry day, man!” He paused. “‘Cept on Sunday, man, he don’t do that. That’s God’s day.”
His friends murmured quietly in response, but nobody challenged him. It sounded like Freddie said this frequently and they tolerated it but didn’t approve. They exchanged glances with each other, and they laughed politely at Freddie’s antics. As always, he had taken it too far. Freddie always took things too far. When his friends laughed, he laughed harder. When his friends bullied a nerd, Freddie got too mean about it and did time in juvie. When his friends smoked weed or drank beer, Freddie smoked or drank until he puked. When they insulted a pimp, Freddie insulted him so bad the pimp tried to stab him.
The one thing Freddie couldn’t do was stop himself.
Freddie didn’t like the idea of his friends thinking of him as a braggart — he liked the idea of being old-school, hardcore, not behaving like some “prettyboy”, as his father would have called his friends. Only pansies worried about projecting an image; a real man trusted that reality would show off his manhood to everyone who needed to see it. His body streaked with sweat, he made sure his friends could all see his muscles. He kissed first one bicep, then the other, and he let his towel “accidentally” fall away to reveal his gigantic dick.
He knew he had the biggest dick among his friends. He made sure they never forgot it. His shaft was more than a foot long, veiny as fuck, and it was thick like a coke can.
“Man, Freddie, admit it, you playin’, right? You wouldn’t do nothin’ like that, and we all know it,” someone said, and everyone else fell quiet. They all shared knowing snickers with each other. “This ain’t the Old Country-“
Freddie scoffed loudly. “Yo, you don’t even know, man. No disrespect, but you don’t get how a real man is, ya feel me?” He sniffled and laughed to show how little he cared for that suggestion. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “If you got a real man’s cock and balls like me, you need to use ’em, y’know. That’s how Italians do, man, ya gotta drain ya nuts.”
“That’s why you get fat girls, man-“
“Yeah, well, fat chicks suck dick the best, everybody knows that. They know how to get deep, and they don’t get pissy about it if you force it in deeper.” He imitated a girl’s plaintive voice begging for more cock, and he pumped his hips, shadow-fucking a woman’s mouth. “Oh, it’s too big, don’t make me deep-throat it, Freddie, I can’t take the whole thing. But it tastes so good… Oooh, I want more…” He switched back to his own voice. “When I get a woman, I get inside that pussy, man. It’s all about the pussy.” He paused. “Or ass, ‘course, if she a dirty bird.”
“You could get some ass right now.”
“Yeah, do it, Freddie.”
Freddie snorted. “What?”
“There’s that dude out there, right? The one who works here? The little flamboyant one?”
Avery blushed. Am I caught? They must have noticed me checking him out. Avery was the only one who worked at this gym who might be described as a “little flamboyant” man. Avery held back a giggle.
“Yeah, he wanna slurp yo’ balls, man. He looked at you like a fat kid looks at cake.”
“So let ‘im.” Freddie shrugged. He wagged his pecker towards his friends. He guffawed too, slapping his knee at the sick look they made — they didn’t like being reminded that he had the biggest cock in the whole crew.
“Yeah, that’s some Old Country shit, Freddie. Does ya dick work or not?”
They all laughed, all except Freddie. He bit his lip and scoffed again, like this wasn’t a big deal and of course he would do it, like there was no doubt, even though the hesitation in his voice was palpable. “I mean… yeah, like… Uh-huh…. He prolly ain’t allowed to.” He cleared his throat. “Gym prolly got rules and shit.” Then he let out another forced laugh, like that ended the conversation and he wasn’t going to continue it. “So what’re you’s doin’ tonight-?”
“Uh-huh, you scared?”
“He is, he’s worried his dick won’t work-“
“Probably worried the creep gonna have a bigger dick than him.”
“What if the dude makes him bend over and ramrods him like a prison bitch?”
“That’s prolly what’ll happen-“
“Freddie gonna bottom for him-!”
They all laughed, all again, except Freddie, who roared and bellowed. “Man! I could kick that punk’s ass!” Even as he said it, he knew it made him sound weak — it was obvious he could kick that punk’s ass, that’s why his friends had suggested otherwise as a joke. Freddie knew he made himself sound defensive and weak, but he couldn’t help himself. He hated it when anyone questioned his masculinity, even a little bit. “I could do it, no problem. No disrespect, but I could knock that boy’s block off.”
Having a feeling that Freddie was about to come out of the sauna, Avery stepped away. He went to the closet just down the hall and made it look like he had just brought the mop bucket there and needed to move stuff around to make space for it. Since he wasn’t near the sauna anymore, he couldn’t hear what they said, but they kept laughing and chanting while Freddie listed excuses.
“Man, you know how I am, I don’t like, y’know… This gym is real important, I don’t wanna ruin it, y’know, get kicked out and shit. Gotta get my gym on, pump up the muscles, y’know-“
“Uh-huh, Freddie, just admit it, you’ve never jacked off in a dude’s mouth-“
“And you never would-“
“And you know fuck-all about how they would do it in the ‘Old-Country’-“
“All you’s guys can go fuck yaselves,” Fredde said with a grimace. He flexed one bicep and kissed it again, showing off a dimpled smile — for no clear reason that Avery could tell, Freddie was just unsure of himself and filled up awkward pauses with bluster and self-worship. “Course I’ll do it. Ain’t nevuh said I wasn’t gonna do it.”
Finally Freddie came out of the sauna. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He blanched at the sight of Avery like he had hoped maybe Avery would have left by now.
But Avery was there by the closet, fiddling with the mop bucket. He smiled at Freddie.
“Hey, uh, yo…” He sounded like he was going to ask a question politely. But then he heard his friends all clustered by the door to hear, poking at his back and teasing him under their breath. He felt he needed to maintain his macho image. So he grabbed his dick through his towel. “Yo, freak, you wanna slurp my meat?”
Avery blushed. “Uh…” His first reaction was, of course, to say yes, but he instinctually wanted to avoid looking too pervy, and Freddie was such a jerk Avery had an unquenchable desire to tell him no, even if he really wanted to say yes. So he played coy. He giggled and touched Freddie’s nipple, making both pecs flex in sync with each other. Freddie furrowed his brow. “I don’t know,” Avery said with another girlish giggle.
“Course you do.” Freddie scoffed. He took a deep breath and dropped his towel, standing there cockily in the hallway like he expected Avery to be so turned on by his foot-long dick that he couldn’t help but start swallowing it down right then and there. He was almost right, but Avery kept a nonchalant look on his face, despite desire blooming deep within him. When his posing didn’t result in Avery dropping to his knees, Freddie just scowled and said, “Come on.” He opened the door to the sauna.
Avery blushed but came in. The other guidos were rushing to get their own towels over their waists — they had been wearing the towels, but they hadn’t bothered to keep them secured, so most of them were loose; now that there was a stranger in the sauna, they made sure to fix the towels.
“Ah, shit, is he really doin’ it?”
“Oh damn, Freddie!”
“Bow-bow-chicka-wow-wow!”
Avery and Freddie were in the center of the sauna, which forced the other guidos by the door. They all clustered together as though worried they’d get splashed on. Though they thought it was too weird to be near Avery, they didn’t mind bumping into each other, clasping each other’s sweaty muscles and getting so close together they could taste each other’s bodies. Avery could even see one man’s towel ride up enough on his thigh that his dick protruded and rubbed against his buddy’s hairy orange-tanned thigh — they were all so engrossed in watching Freddie that no one noticed.
“Well, get on ya knees, boi!” Freddie said, pumping his biceps for the benefit of his friends. He even kissed one bicep, which made Avery giggle. Freddie ran his fingers through his greasy black hair. “You’s guys thought I wasn’t gonna do it, you thought I was just playin’!”
“Freddie’s fo’ real!”
“Aw, shit, baby!” one of them shouted, ran forward a few feet and smacked Freddie on the ass — that seemed to be some kind of inside joke — before going back to his compatriots. As he did, his towel fell, baring a splendid orange-brown ass, gleaming with sweat in the overheated sauna. Avery wondered which of that guido’s friends spray-tanned his buttcheeks.
“Get ya naked ass outta here-!”
“Don’t let your dick touch me!”
They shoved him away, and the one who had run away from the group looked behind his back. He didn’t want to pick up the towel that he had dropped because it would mean he had to bend over, ass facing either his friends or Avery and Freddie. Finally he squatted awkwardly, covering his crotch with one hand, picked up the towel and wrapped it around his waist again.
Avery sunk to his knees. He blushed, embarrassed at the leering, laughing guidos who surrounded him. Freddie had a nice big cock. His pubic hair was trimmed, which Avery was not a fan of — he preferred a more natural man — and his chest was shaved as smooth as a billiard ball. But that gym-toned body was perfect enough to make up for any disappointment in his lack of hair.
When he took Freddie’s dick in his mouth, Freddie gasped but tried to cover it up by sternly grunting, so his friends didn’t think this was a big deal for him. He crossed his arms over his pecs and flexed his muscles, making Avery giggle and blush again.
“See? You’s guys is a bunch of pansies, gettin’ all squeamish like girls,” Freddie said with a scoff, as though this had happened a hundred times and Freddie was fed up with their response. “A mouth is a mouth, boi!” He flexed both biceps over Avery’s head.
But Avery could sense the nervous energy in the thrum of Freddie’s muscles and the tension even in his relaxed limbs. It didn’t bother Avery none, as he focused on slurping that rod down deep.
“Damn, Freddie…”
“Get deep in his throat!”
Ruddy arousal bloomed over Freddie’s face and chest, his tanned neck turning burgundy. His tongue lolled around inside his mouth. Sweat covered his body. Freddie tensed up because he was worried he would cum too quickly. He had been raised to think being on top made him tough but cumming too quick would make him weak — a real man should take a little time to fuck his bottom’s throat.
But taking a break or otherwise slowing down directly would look weak too. Freddie’s instinct was to grab Avery’s head and fuck his face aggressively. He didn’t entirely want to to do though, because it would require touching his head and reminding himself he was with a man. In any case, he was sure that would make him cum right away.
“Swallow it, yo…” Freddie paused and added, in poor Italian, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!” He thought a little trash-talk would be a good compromise — it would make him look tough without making him cum more quickly, and that sentence was one of the few Italian things he could say confidently. So he said it again, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!”. He chuckled. Ain’t nobody else here knew what that meant, so Freddie flexed his pecs to make them bounce and sneered down at the weak man slobbering on his knob. Spit dripped down the shaft and soaked his pubic hair. “Aw, shit, you gonna play with it like a tubby bitch, huh? You best-” His voice broke, which he only barely managed to cover up by coughing. A shiver of potent pleasure ran up his spine. Freddie blushed — it wasn’t obvious because he was very tan and he was ruddy anyway from the heat in this humid sauna, but he could feel it, and he grew antsy trying to affect a nonchalant attitude in front of his friends. “You best deep-throat that shit, baby…” He winced as his friends laughed — he hadn’t meant to call Avery baby. That was a step too far, he thought.
“Baby? You two gonna fall in love?”
“Ooooooh! Freddie’s in love!”
“Fuck you, man, you’s guys-” Freddie pumped his hips one time, cutting off his own words because his dick rammed all the way into Avery’s throat and an explosion of pleasure like nothing he had ever experienced wracked his body. It felt so good it hurt.
He had never been deep-throated like this. He couldn’t admit how unprecedented it was because he had been bragging to his friends for years about how he made his girls deep-throat him. He said that they loved it. He specifically said that his balls rested on their chin when he came. That had never been true until now.
His balls slapped against Avery’s chin, and Freddie let out a tortured crying wail as an orgasm erupted within him. Already his friends snickered — that had taken maybe three minutes — and hooted as they slapped his ass.
He grunted, his orgasm so intense it almost hurt, and he gripped Avery’s head tightly, ignoring his short, masculine haircut. He grimaced and sprayed a massive wad down Avery’s throat, filling his belly up with creamy warmth.
The taste was salty and savory, and Avery guzzled down every drop. He loved straight boy cum because it had a vibrant, spring-like quality that made him crave more even as he swallowed Freddie’s load and licked every drop off his limpening shaft.
It just kept on flowing, more and more. Freddie’s eyes opened wide as he watched. His friends peered closer — they’d never really seen someone cum before. Of course they’d watched porn and they’d fucked their girlfriends alongside each other — they even once gangbanged this older lady who had begged for Italian meat — but they had always been distracted by their own desires and the female flesh around them. Not this time. They had no reason to look anywhere else, and like people unable to turn their heads away from an accident, they stared as Freddie’s dick throbbed and pulsating.
Great creamy gobs of cum spilled out and over Avery’s face. He saw all those eyes staring at him, and he thought to make a big mess, letting most of the cum in his mouth overflow. That embarrassed them all.
“Aw, shit-“
“Lookit that nasty!”
“Oh it’s all over his face! It’s all over his face! You the man, Freddie!”
“Ah, shit, yo, damn…” Freddie said. He shook his head and sighed, trying not to reveal how surprised he was by that big load. Avery had really pulled it right out of his balls. Freddie shrugged as though that was how much cum he normally shot. “Damn… Alright, I was, y’know… You can go now, man-” His voice broke and his friends laughed at him. “We done, you, uh… I used you as quick as I could. I wasn’t tryin’ to take a lotta time, so now you gotta go.” Freddie again knew he sounded defensive; he sounded like he was embarrassed about how quick that had been (which he was), but he couldn’t stop himself. “Man, that was what they call a cazzo veloce in the Old Country.”
Avery remained sitting right there. Freddie was so focused on demonstrating to his friends how macho he was and how he had forced Avery to slurp his dick then leave that he didn’t notice that Avery hadn’t left. Avery sat next to Freddie and clutched his muscular body. Freddie was too uncomfortable to make him leave, so he endured it until he and his friends had finally had enough of the sauna.
Then they left Avery there to remember the taste of Freddie’s fine Italian cock. That, Avery thought, had been unici deliziosi!

The Boxer

When Avery sees the legendary heavyweight boxer Wallace Stamper in the gym, he takes a chance and makes him an offer — he’ll pay for his gym membership in exchange for a swing on his fat alpha male meat. Can Wallace perform for Avery despite his cornerman trying to stop it?!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“C’mon, Wallace, you don’t need this place.”
They turned around and headed back into the locker room. Avery watched from within the locker room, then he headed away from the door so it wasn’t obvious he was eavesdropping.
He resumed mopping the locker room floor — it was his job at the Cornerside Gym, after all. He didn’t look in the direction of the man he was here to find: Wallace
It was always hard to force yourself to “look casual”, but that was what Avery did. He affected a complacent pose, idly sliding the mop about as though he had been at this for hours and had no chance of finishing soon.
A few ropy-muscled black men showered a few feet away, but Avery wasn’t interested in them, and they totally ignored him. A hunky Puerto Rican with a fledgling mustache changed into workout gear on one of the benches. Avery would have loved to jerk him off, but that wasn’t why he had come here.
He had come here to meet Wallace Stamper, the greatest heavyweight boxer in the world. Avery didn’t actually follow the sport, but he was very good and very famous.
And he had a body to die for.
And, it seemed, Wallace couldn’t afford to pay for his gym. His trainer, friend and cornerman followed him into the locker room. That was a handsome Italian man named Valdemaro. He was arousing too, in his way. Like the Puerto Rican, Avery might have jerked him off gladly if there weren’t a grade-A specimen of manhood right next to him. At the moment, though, Avery had eyes only for Wallace Stamper
“Fuck that asshole,” Wallace said with a hostile growl. He shadowboxed the air in the sauna.
“Relax, Wallace, it’s okay,” Valdemaro said. “We’ll work this out. You don’t need a gym to train anyway. We’ll go home and you can punch that mattress. You run home, okay? You run home, I’ll take the bus and meet you there.”
“Shut up, Valdemaro.” Wallace punctuated each word with a punch in the air.
“Come on, don’t be depressed. You’re gonna win on Saturday, I can feel it. With that purse, you’ll be able to pay for the gym membership for years to come,” Valdemaro said. He had a charming grin, but it didn’t look like Wallace was buying his optimism.
Avery pushed between them. He stood in front of Wallace and smiled. He made sure to seem as feminine as possible. “Hi,” he said with an impish smile. “I’m Avery.”
“Nice to meetcha, Avery,” Wallace said. His grumpy face frowned. He was big and thick-chested, with a deep barrel voice like a dragon, and he made Avery shiver in place. Wallace picked up on that. He sneered and sighed, flexing his pecs. “Whatchoo want, man?”
“Uh… I saw your match a little while ago. You’re so good,” Avery said. “You’re a legend.”
“Thank you, sir,” Valdemaro said, touching Avery on the shoulder to get his attention. He tried to hurry him along, to get him away from Wallace.
But Avery just shrugged him off. He smiled flirtatiously at Wallace. “I bet girls throw themselves at you.”
Wallace beamed. “Yeah, kinda. Some. Lotta girls don’t like big guys,” he said. He demonstrated his size by pumping one bicep. He licked his lips and chuckled when Avery grabbed it with both hands and kissed it. Avery licked Wallace’s bicep from his elbow all the way to his shoulder, then he flickered his tongue into Wallace’s sweat-moist armpit.
“Oh, hey, no way, sorry,” Valdemaro said. He pulled Avery away.
Wallace growled. “Shut the fuck up, Valdemaro.” He looked Avery right in the eye, not breaking his gaze. He was such a huge, hulking brute that Avery shivered in fear. His arms were like a stack of pumpkins, his legs thicker than Avery’s whole body, and his ass was thick and juicy like a pair of chicken pot pies. When he moved, his buttcheeks jiggled and his massive pecs shifted up and down with each step.
Despite his trepidation, Avery did not think he was in danger. Wallace looked at him like a hungry man looks at a meal, while Valdemaro continued shooing Avery away. Avery could tell Wallace wanted to bust a nut, but not where anyone could see it, including Valdemaro.
Wallace glanced around. The Puerto Rican was finishing his shower, his long, uncut cock gleaming in the moisture and steamy air. The other men had finished and were walking out the door.
“Wallace, we should go,” Valdemaro said. He kissed the crucifix around his neck. He glared at Avery, then wrapped one arm around Wallace’s wide body, hugging him close and gently pushing him towards the door.
“I said shut the fuck up, Valdemaro. You ain’t in charge of mah dick,” Wallace said. He grabbed his cock through his satin boxing shorts.
“I, uh, I’m in charge of your training, Wallace. That includes your moral development,” Valdemaro said. “I know you know the Bible. Jesus wouldn’t want you doin’ nothin’ you can’t tell ya mama ’bout.”
“Shut the fuck up, Valdemaro. God forgives, don’t he? Even the Cath-olics believe that, right? Confession and shit.”
“That’s not… You have to have real regret in your heart,” Valdemaro said. “Wallace-“
“I’ll pay,” Avery said. He pulled out the three hundred dollars in his pocket. “Is this enough to cover the gym membership?”
Judging from the look on both men’s faces, it was more than enough. Valdemaro snatched it. His Christian morals seemed to have vanished into thin air. He smiled and whistled a jaunty tune. “Okay. You two have fun. I’ll go pay at the front desk.”
He walked away. Wallace grinned at Avery. He glanced at the Puerto Rican, who was oblivious, then he looked at a door on one outer wall of the locker room. He stood up and walked towards it. From the way he walked, it was apparent his cock was already hard. Those giant asscheeks jiggled up and down with each step he took.
“C’mon, girlboy, the sauna’s in here,” Wallace said. He opened the door, and steam billowed out. His hefty body shifted as he slipped in. Avery followed. The heat and humidity hit Avery like a punch to the face.
Wallace had stopped right there by the door, so Avery’s face planted into his mountainous back. His muscles rippled and sweat dripped onto Avery’s lips. He sucked it all up, while Wallace quickly dropped his shorts and stepped out of them. His ass was framed by elastic straps.
He had on those old-fashioned white jockstraps, the strappy, unglamorous kind, dingy and worn with age. Avery moaned at the sight — he hadn’t been expecting that, but now that he saw it, he wanted to suck on it. He pulled it off Wallace’s body and put the whole thing in his mouth. The taste of old funky sweat, soaked in and wildly fragrant, flooded his senses. The jockstrap was so wet it tasted soggy, gritty with salt crystals that remained on the fabric, and the stink of Wallace’s heavy ballsac made Avery’s eyes water, not that that slowed him down at all.
“Oh, damn, you get nasty,” Wallace said. He shook his head and laughed, clutching his belly as though he needed to hold it in and it took all of his muscles to do so.
The jockstrap was sour and salty, and Avery drooled over it. While he loved the taste and the grimy feel of it in his mouth too, the hottest part was Wallace’s reaction, his big squarish face showing equal parts disgust and delight, like he was disgusted that Avery would do such a thing but delighted that his own body fluids would bring someone such joy.
Eventually though, the jockstrap just tasted like spit, and Avery dropped it to the floor. He tweaked each of Wallace’s nipples, making his pecs bounce and Avery’s heart skip a beat. Wallace still had a bemused smile on his face, and he didn’t react to Avery’s fingers on his nipples.
Since he didn’t complain, Avery shifting from tweaking his nipples to sucking on them, while his hands massaged the firmness of Wallace’s torso. His muscles flexed.
“A’ight, prettyboy, you got’cha taste,” Wallace said. “You gonna get me off or what?”
“I definitely am!” Avery said and sunk to his knees, while Wallace plopped his heavy ass down on one of the wooden benches in the sauna. He leaned back and spread his legs. He was so big he took up at least a quarter of the entire sauna, arms outstretched. His balls hung down, cock dangling. He leaned his head back and sighed.
His dick was half-hard already. Avery sensed that he was extremely horny — maybe that cornerman Valderamo prevented him from fucking any women, to keep his testosterone high for fights. His dick jumped right out of his hand when Avery touched it. Wallace gasped and bit his lip. Avery stroked it. It was moist with sweat and condensation from the air, and it twitched as soon as Avery’s fingers danced over his shaft.
“You got nice hands, boy,” Wallace said. “Nice and soft. I like the way yo’ fingers feel.” He didn’t open his eyes. He groaned, chest rumbling, tongue lolling around within his mouth.
“You got a nice cock,” Avery said, whispering like a shy girl.
That made Wallace chuckle and moan. He gently guided Avery’s head down to Wallace’s dick. Avery opened up and swallowed it in one smooth motion, lowering his head until his nose squashed into Wallace’s hairy crotch.
“Goddamn,” Wallace said. “Lordie, fuckin’s hell, fuck…” He gasped and raised his brow. His dick swelled in Avery’s mouth, moisture coating Avery’s tongue with his unwashed flavor. Wallace moaned like he was scratching an itch he’d been waiting to scratch for a long time. His whole body shook, his limbs all flexing and rippling in turn.
Avery’s hands explored Wallace’s broad chest, tweaking his nipples and playing with the network of kinky fur that covered his pecs. He was very hairy for a black man, with coarse hairs coating his pecs and running in a treasure trail down his belly. Wallace’s muscles twitched beneath his touch.
“Hey, you know Roger?” Wallace asked suddenly. He pulled Avery off his cock.
“Who? No. I ain’t from around here,” Avery said. His tongue flickered as he tried to go back to sucking, but Wallace held his head in place, just near enough that he could taste that cock but not actually resume sucking on it.
“Oh he ain’t from around here neither. He from Nashville. But he a… he a sensitive type, like you, with soft fingers like yo’s. He do slurp a nigga nut up.”
“We don’t all know each other.”
Wallace shrugged. “Okay. You handle mah dick better than him, that’s all. And you pay, I like that,” he said. “He just do it fo’s fun.”
Avery furrowed his brow at that. He assumed he needed to pay, but it seemed Wallace would do this for free if he asked nice enough. licked his dickshaft, his tongue tracing the veins that run all the way up from root to tip. Avery could tell that Wallace liked that because his cock spasmed, precum leaking out.
The salty flavor of semen filled Avery’s senses. Wallace continued to talk, telling some story about how Roger jerks him off whenever he’s in Nashville for a fight — Wallace said he never let Valdemaro know about it because Valdemaro was Catholic and snooty and he don’t approve of jacking off, whether alone or with another man. Valdemaro thought a man should save his seed for the marital bed.
“I ain’t nevuh think he was gonna ‘pprove of me dippin into yo’s ass,” Wallace said with a snorting laugh. “Guess he don’t care ’bout none of that if you got the green. Shoulda been tellin’s him all along that Roger be payin’. I thought payin’ fo’ it makes it worse, right? But Roger don’t give a shit. I don’t get Catholics.”
Avery gurgled as he happily sucked. He giggled. Wallace kept talking as though he was having a real conversation, though Avery didn’t respond at all.
“You evuh been to a Catholic mass? Valdemaro took me once. It was weird. I ain’t like it,” Wallace said. “Confession is fuckin’ strange. I ain’t tellin’ some pervuht priest ’bout my sins and shit. That’s between me and God, ya dig?” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. “Yo, man, can you suck on my balls a bit? You do that? Winchell Green did that. You know him?”
“I don’t know him,” Avery said, rolling his eyes. He dropped his head between Wallace’s legs and slurped on both of his balls at once. Wallace had heavy, pendulous balls and a hairy sac, which Avery loved. It was slick with sweat and precum, so moist that Avery could slurp the juices off as Wallace groaned.
“Yeah, I ain’t think you would. He in prison. Still there, ‘far as I know,” Wallace said. “He was my cellmate. He licked balls fo’ hours. Some nights he jerk my dick till I nut, then he lick my balls while I play cards or somethin’, then I get hard and he swallow up my dick again.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said around the balls throbbing in his throat.
“You evuh been in prison, whiteboy? That where you learn this shit?”
“No,” Avery said. He went back to licking Wallace’s cockshaft, working his kisses up and down the veiny underside of his meat.
“Well, you be queen in there, I swear to God. If you was my cellmate, I’d tell you I love you, and I wouldn’t nevuh pimp you out, no way. Not unless you want it,” Wallace said with a chortling laugh. “You give up the ass, right?”
“Yes,” Avery said. His voice was muffled and moistened by the ballsac he kept furiously slurping on, while both hands stroked Wallace’s fat cock. It spasmed in his fingers.
“Then yeah, you be my prison queen,” Wallace said. “Fuckin’ hell. Why don’t girls evuh like suckin’ balls, huh? I ask this girl one time and she say ‘nah’, she say don’t no one suck balls. She say no way, no how, no time, not evuh. Fuckin’sbitch.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. He was too aroused to really pay attention to Wallace, who smacked Avery’s asscheeks. He whistled at the sight of their jiggling.
“Hmm-hmm! Hell yeah! Fuckin’ hell. You like big homeboys, right? Huh? I know this homeboy in the Tennessee State Pen’tent’ary. You wanna be his bitch? Shit, you could retire there,” Wallace said with a laugh. “You just gotta commit a state crime, ya dig? You into that?”
“No thanks,” Avery said. He rubbed Wallace’s dick over his face. He kept flickering his tongue out to tease him. Wallace smiled — he liked dragging this out as much as he could. He bent over and stuck his ass in the air. “It doesn’t matter. Just cornhole me, stick it in me, all the way in, as hard as you can….”
“Hell yeah! I will wreck you, whiteboy. You said as hard as I can, you said that and I’s gonna hold you to it, boy!” Wallace cackled and clapped his hands, then he checked the sauna door to be sure no one was coming. His fat cock stuck out from his crotch like an antenna, and then he got behind Avery. His rod stabbed Avery in the small of his back. Wallace had to bend his knees to get his cock low enough to line up with Avery’s asshole, and he wrapped both arms around Avery’s body. “You ready, whiteboy? It’s goin’ in…”
Avery gasped and jerked his head as Wallace’s cock slid into him. Pain exploded in his ass. It lasted only a second though. Wallace spat on his palm and wiped the lube off on his dick, which combined with the slickness of the steam that filled the sauna to make his dick slip right in.
Pressure erupted in his ass, followed by a twinge of pleasure that grew stronger with every passing second. It hurt too, but the pain was overshadowed by the positive sensations wracking his body. Avery slid all the way down. He rarely took such a huge dick that quickly, but Wallace pulled him by the shoulders down. Avery squealed and slipped, losing his balance so his hands and feet were both in the air. Wallace’s powerful body gripped him however, and held him in position atop Wallace’s cock. Neither man moved for a moment.
“So… this do hurt, right? Roger say he like it, but it do hurt. Winchell say it hurt and he don’t like it,” Wallace said. “You look like it hurt.”
Avery bit his lip. The pain was there, he couldn’t deny that, but his prostate was alive too, sending wave after wave of pleasure up Avery’s spine. It was difficult to concentrate enough to say anything at all.
“Yeah. It hurt. But, uh… I like it,” Avery said with grave difficulty. “It feels good too.”
“Why?”
“Uh… Sorry, can you just cornhole me? I can’t really talk right now,” Avery said, his voice clipped and desperate. He breathlessly gasped and flailed at the air in front of his face.
Wallace cackled. “Alright, sorry, man,” he said. “Let’s do this!” He wrapped both of his arms over Avery’s body, holding him tight and close to Wallace’s barrel chest. Then Wallace began to slam his hips up, virtually punching Avery in the ass with his massive cock. Avery let out a yelp that turned into a long, slow moan.
Much to Avery’s surprise, Wallace forced his head to the side. That put Avery’s face atop Wallace’s strapping chest. Wallace bent his head down and kissed Avery right on the lips. His tongue plunged in, and Wallace groaned right into Avery’s mouth. Wallace seemed to have no compunctions about kissing Avery as he slammed him up and down on his cock. He allowed Avery to suck on his upper lip and even lick his face when their fucking became too frenzied to coordinate a kiss. Wallace’s stony face trembled as Avery kissed his cheek and sucked on his grizzled neck.
“Hey! Wallace! You in there!”
“Yeah, Valdemaro! Leave me alone!” Wallace grunted and growled into Avery’s ear.
“Okay. You alright?”
“Yes! Fuck off, Valdemaro!”
There was a long pause. Avery held his breath, barely able to control himself — he wanted to scream and shout the orgasm welling up within him was so tense. But he wasn’t sure how Valdemaro would take it. He bucked his hips back, making Wallace gasp again.
“Are uh… you okay? Uh… other guy? The, uh… white one. You alright?”
Avery heard him and tried to respond, but all that came out was a choked strangle. The door to the sauna opened. Through the steam, Avery saw Valdemaro’s face poke in, but he remained facing away like he couldn’t bear to watch.
“Huh? You ain’t hit him, did you Wallace?” he asked.
“He fine, Valdemaro. Get the fuck out.”
“Yeah. Okay. I am. Okay,” Avery said, the climax boiling so intensely he could barely grunt. He bit his lip and groaned. A wave of bliss flowed through his veins, and Avery’s knees went weak. Wallace supported him in his powerful arms, which were firm with muscle and slick with sweat.
Valdemaro slammed the door shut with an audible sigh. He laughed nervously on the other side of the door, while Wallace kissed Avery some more. He groaned, his tongue lolling over Avery’s face when Wallace become too impassioned to kiss. His balls crawled up in his sac.
“You know you can’t kiss him, right, Wallace? “
“I know, Valdemaro, shut the fuck up! I won’t kiss him! Just go away, Valdemaro!” Wallace bellowed. He pounded on the bench beneath him with one massive fist. Then he kissed Avery again on the lips.
“Okay, sorry. Just… don’t, uh… We’re going to church as soon as we’re done here, Wallace.”
“Fine! Fuck off!” He paused and roared. “I know you still there, Valdemaro, fuck off! I won’t be able to nut wit’ you hecklin’ me from out there.”
“Okay, okay, sorry, I’ll go reserve the punching bag.” He paused. “I’m coming back in five minutes. That’s enough time, plenty enough time to finish up. I’ll dump cold water on you if I have to, Wallace. You need to focus on your training.”
“Valdemaro, if you don’t fuck off right now, I’m going to ram you next. Swear to god, I will shove yo’ mama’s lasagna up yo’ butthole,” Wallace said. “I will take as long as I want to.” Wallace growled into Avery’s ear. “I wouldn’t waste his mama’s lasagna, that shit’s goo-ooood!” He laughed and clapped. “I would take longer than five minutes just to piss him off. If he dump cold water on me, I swear to God I will hold him down so you can ram him. But there ain’t no way I can wait five minutes. You got ass like none other, I swear to God. I will fill you up wit’ my battuh, you gonna be drownin’ in it. You want that? Huh?”
“Yes, please…” Avery moaned. His cock spasmed in his own hand as an orgasm ripped through him. He tightened up and clenched, which was enough to send Wallace over the edge as well.
“Hell yeah, bitch, hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah,” Wallace moaned so loud it echoed in the sauna. His muscles all flexed where Avery rested against his back.
Cum sprayed over Avery’s belly at the same time it filled up his ass. Wallace’s hot breath condensed on Avery’s ear, his cum spraying over Avery’s prostate, which accentuated Avery’s own orgasm. Both men roared — Wallace a deep, booming baritone, while Avery lilted out a feminine growl. Waves of pleasure hit Avery hard, and he writhed in Wallace’s powerful arms. Wallace was less expressive, but Avery could feel and hear the burgeoning moan of desire in his chest, which pressed into Avery’s smooth back.
At last Avery was done. A big stinking puddle of cum rested on his thin belly, while Wallace’s meaty body pulsated beneath him. Wad after wad of cum filled Avery up, as though Wallace was piping it in from somewhere.
“Ah, damn, alright, alright, alright,” Wallace said with a chuckle. “You done there. You can get off me.”
Avery haltingly crawled off. Each movement he made sent a wave of both mind-blowing agony and body-melting arousal through his mind. He gasped and struggled to move. He slipped over and over because Wallace’s body was drenched in sweat, and the humid sauna air made everything slick.
Finally Avery crumpled to the ground. He crawled back up onto the bench, where he wrapped his arms over Wallace’s chest. Wallace bristled when he felt Avery’s limp cock press against his thigh, but he didn’t make him stop.
Wallace snorted and sniffled, like he was signaling that he had allowed Avery to cuddle for the maximum amount of time he would accept. He was too polite to tell Avery to let go, but Avery got the message.
Avery grabbed his clothes and hurriedly got dressed. Wallace was much slower. He grabbed his shorts and headed for the door, still naked, his cock not even fully limp yet — it still dripped with his own cum and remnants of Avery’s assjuice.
He opened the door, and there was Valdemaro’s serious-looking gaze.
Then a bucket-load of cold water landed on Wallace’s face, and a few drops hit Avery’s legs — the water was ice-cold. Wallace screamed in shock. Valdemaro said something about God.
Avery slid out of there before a fight developed. It looked like either Valdemaro or Wallace, or both, were about to throw a punch. Avery was done with them both.
But before leaving the gym, he wondered if that Puerto Rican boxer was still around…

The Basketball Team

Lance is teaching financial literacy to some basketball players when they have trouble concentrating… they need someone to service their manly needs, and Lance is eager to help out. Can Lance keep their attention long enough to finish his presentation?

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Read the whole thing here!

“Okay, guys, I know this isn’t fun,” Lance said. “But it is important. You won’t be able to play basketball your whole lives, so the money you make now needs to work for you for a long time to come.”
The team sat in front of him in the locker room. Lance would have rather done this in a more formal environment, but Coach Thickman had said that if you take the players somewhere else, like Lance’s office, after the game, a lot of them will sneak away. ‘You gotta git ’em when they still in the locker room’, Coach Thickman had said.
“Alright, before we talk about your options, let’s go over some terminology,” Lance said. “First off, risk. I’m sure you all use the word risk, but in finance it’s a very important concept. All investment is about balancing risk, and-” Once he got into the flow, he could tune out any distractions. He had perfect tunnel vision for this presentation. After having given this exact spiel plenty of times, he had it more or less memorized.
But he was mid-monologue when he realized most of the team wasn’t paying attention. They were either on their phones or chatting with each other, and one was distractedly rolling a joint as though it required all his concentration. None of them even seemed aware that they were supposed to be paying attention to Lance, like they thought he just came here to monologue about finance in an empty locker room and was willing to do it around them. Lance’s voice trailed off.
“Hey, gentlemen, shut up!” Coach Thickman barked, his voice weary and glowering. He jumped in front of Lance and meanmugged at the players. They did shut up, but they glared at Coach Thickman, whose broad, bare chest gleamed as he stared his team down. “This is an important presentation, and y’all gots to hear e’ry word of it.”
A long pause followed. Lance wasn’t sure if this was normal, or if the players were seriously challenging Coach Thickman’s authority. Thickman furrowed his brow in expectation of utter obedience and furrowed it deeper when the players looked at him like a crazy person for telling them what to do. A few rebellious snickers underhushed, and someone muttered, “Shut that ol’ nigga up.”
“Get’cha butts in the sauna!” Thickman said. “Now!”
The players groaned but stood. They clucked their tongues against their teeth as they sauntered away. More than a few glared at Coach Thickman and licked their teeth, punching fists into the palms of theit other hands, but they all did as told.
They didn’t move quickly though. They sort of sauntered in, all except for the one white player on the team, who hurried in first. Lance wondered if this meant his presentation was over.
When Thickman barked at the others, they hustled into top gear. “I ain’t say mosey into the sauna like sleepy glaciers, did I? I said get’cha booties in the sauna right now, pissheads!” They darted into the sauna, and all conversation stopped.
Lance blushed and bristled. Was that it? Did Coach Thickman think Lance was so useless as to make the presentation irrelevant? Lance was surprised how little of a chance he got. He hadn’t grabbed their attention in the first thirty seconds, and Coach Thickman had just given right up? That didn’t seem fair.
Then Coach Thickman’s hefty hand clasped Lance’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, hoss, they don’t wanna pay attention to nobody. You can give your spiel in a sauna, right?”
“Uh… in a sauna?”
“They’ll be naked, you comfortable wit’ that? You ain’t gotta be naked too. I mean… you can’t really go in there in a suit, you gonna get heat stroke fo’ real. But you can go in there in yo’ drawers,” Thickman said, walking away. “They won’t listen anywhere else. Too many distractions.”
Lance’s heart started pounding. He certainly didn’t mind hanging out in a sauna with a bunch of naked basketball players — Lance was a keen admirer of the male form, so he would enjoy that very much. He’d never given his financial-risk spiel in his underwear though. Would they mind if he was in there with them? What if he got a hardon?
The boisterous chatting of the players made it easy for him to find the sauna, which was at the far end of the locker room. Lance folded his clothes and left them on the bench outside the sauna. He kept his boxer shorts and a t-shirt on, since he knew his body would look pitiful in comparison to the players’s. He wasn’t in bad shape, but he was skinny and short by comparison.
“Yo, Coach, where dat white man at? My balls is stickin’, nigga! I gots bitches beggin’ me to come over, man! Let’s hurry dis shit up!”
When Lance walked in, one of the players — Trent Wyatt, a power forward — was standing right in front of the door, stark-naked, pantomiming aggressive action, he must have been who was bragging about bitches through the closed door. He bucked his hips into an imaginary woman, his thick cock flopping with every thrust of his body. His toned ass was dappled with sweat from the humid air of the sauna.
They all stopped laughing at Trent and looked at Lance. Everyone was quiet for a second.
Then Trent said, “So I told her it’s s’posed to hurt, you s’posed to bring along a girlfriend to lick yo’ pussy at the same time. Ain’t mah fault women hate you too much to get on that girl-girl trip wit’ cha.” That made his team burst into laughter all over again.
It finally died down after a minute or two, and the men all looked to Lance. He blushed, both from embarrassment and from overheating in the crowded, steamy sauna. Trent moved out of the way so Lance could address the whole team. Lance’s bare chest gleamed with sweat.
“Okay, guys, this is really important,” Lance said. “I know it feels like you’re gonna have this income forever, but you won’t. You can’t play until you’re old men. You-“
“But we’s gonna have sponsorship deals and shit, right?”
“Uh, well, some of you probably will, but not all of you, and that won’t pay like-“
They all cheered and clapped their hands as if that ended it. Lance waited until they were done before speaking again.
“That won’t last as long as you think, guys. Unless your name is Michael Jordan-“
But they weren’t listening again. They were talking over his words, bragging about what they intended to do with the money when they finally got it. They spoke of buying islands, of mansions around the world, servants by the fleet and yachts by the flotilla.
“Hey! Hey! Hey, guys!” Lance yelled until he had their attention again. “Please, y’all, let me get through this. You’ll make enough to retire as long as that money is wisely invested. Not in boats or tropical islands, but in income-generating assets. Who knows-“
“I got some income-generatin’ assets waitin’ for me back at the crib,” said one of the players. He chuckled a deep, raspy laugh, and the others joined in with him. “She about this tall, and she got a ass that ain’t nevuh quit.”
The door to the sauna opened. Coach Thickman barged in. The players all fell silent at once. Their eyes were downcast, avoiding contact with either Lance or Coach Thickman. Thickman wore his sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, and his shirt became soaked in sweat from the steamy sauna.
“Hey, you goddamn shitwads, shut yo’ fuckholes and listen up! Cuz I know from personal experience that at least a half-dozen of you gonna call me in the next year, and be all ‘oh Coach Thickman, I spent all my money at a casino in Vegas and buying high-class whores fo’ mah niggas and now I needs you to pay mah child support or else I’s goin’ to jail and can’t play next month.’ And I ain’t havin’ that. Not even a li’l bit, nah,” Coach Thickman said. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Put yo’ jockstraps on anyway. Mr. Williams here don’t wanna look at yo’ wingwangs.”
“Reckon he does…” someone said.
Lance didn’t see who said that, but it was obvious that someone had guessed he was into that. It was hard to hide his interest surrounded by jocks. Lance had managed to avoid getting a hardon, but it must have been apparent from the expression on his face and his body language that he enjoyed the physiques of the men around him.
“Hey! Nah!” Coach Thickman barked. “Don’t accuse the nice white man of nothin’.” When some of the players nodded their agreement, Thickman paused. He looked at Lance and raised his eyebrows. Lance blushed. The players hooted. Thickman frowned. “Okay, well, maybe, but still, you best shut yo’ mouths til he finishes his talk.”
“C’mon, old nigga, we got this,” Trent said. He stood up and wagged his dick, swaying his hips to make it slap against each thigh in turn. “Y’old man…”
Lance’s eyes were drawn to Trent’s massive cock. It was nearly a foot long and thicker than Lance’s forearm, and it was moist from the humid air, so it gleamed, the dark skin of Trent’s shaft practically glowing in the well-lit sauna.
“Hey all y’all shut the hell up,” Thickman said. “The league says you gotta listen to this white man’s speech. You gotta have financial advisement, fellas. Tomorrow I gotta fill out a little piece of paper and send it to the league. It’s gonna have the name of every nigga here — and you, Dirk — every nigga who listen up about finances. Whichever motherfucker ain’t on that list, ain’t gonna be playin’ till next season. Got it?” No one spoke, not even Dirk, the token white guy. Then Coach Thickman cleared his throat and opened the door. “So all you niggas best shut the hell up. And you too, Dirk. Listen good.”
“Thanks for rememberin’ me, Coach,” Dirk said with a laugh as the door shut.
For a moment all was silent. Lance was nervous. He felt like a bad substitute teacher who needed the teacher from the classroom next door to keep his students in line. Everyone looked at him.
The heat had begun to get to him as well. His underwear and shirt were plastered to his skin with sweat. Lance cleared his throat. “Okay, well… I’m going to assume that you guys know absolutely nothing about financial investing. That’s probably not true, but I don’t know what you do know, so-“
“Yo, math nerd!” Trent called out. “Nobody gives a shit. We all know what to invest in.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah,” Trent said. “I gots a recording studio, man. I got-“
“You have a recording studio? Does it make a profit?”
Trent paused. “I mean… I got an idea for a recording studio. Alright?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a place you record-“
“No, I know what a recording studio is. What’s your idea for one?”
“Gonna record all the rappers in town, man, all of ’em. I got connects with everyone around here, man. Ain’t gonna be Crips-only or Bloods-only, gonna get ’em all.”
“No you won’t,” Lance said. The sauna was silent for the first time since he had walked in. “You won’t get a single one. Recording studios are one of the riskiest businesses out there. The major record companies can offer multiyear, multimillion-dollar guarantees. You won’t be able to match that, and in any case, recorded music is barely profitable to begin with. Even if you win, you’ll lose money,” Lance said. “You know you’ll have to hire a dozen sound engineers to run that properly right?”
“I can do that.”
“Cuz your multimillion dollar salary from the league is paid out over a couple years,” Lance said. “Those sound engineers are gonna start costin’ you thousands a month on day one — they aren’t cheap. They demand salaries. They demand a guarantee of a job — they won’t move from here for some basketball player’s month-long whim. You’re gonna have to guarantee them a job, one that pays as much as your job is gonna pay. And you know what? They won’t sign up a single rapper. In addition to spending all your money opening a studio and spending all your time hiring sound engineers, you’re gonna have to spend all your time signing those rappers. Oh, and I almost forgot, your professional basketball career will take up essentially all of your time,” Lance said. “I’ve seen hundreds of athletes try to open up a recording studio. You know how many have made a profit?” He paused for effect. “Wait… fuck that, you know how many actually built a functioning recording studio that created at least one actual commercial recording? Zero. Not a single one. Fact is, it’ll take like a third of your salary over the next ten years just to build the recording studio, that’s before you buy any equipment for it, hire anyone to work it or start recording a single song. Again, there’s no money in recorded music anyway. You’d be better off opening a bar that books live acts.” Lance paused. “But don’t do that! Bars are an awful investment!”
There was a long pause. Everyone looked at Trent, whose eyes were downcast. Lance blushed. He hadn’t meant to go off on a rant like that. Every athlete he spoke to these days wanted to open a recording studio, and it was a dismal failure every single time.
“I’m sorry,” Lance said. “But really, I want you guys to succeed. You will be making enough money that you can retire. You can have fun in a recording studio. You can give money to your friends. You can buy jerseys for the little kids in your old neighborhood. But first you have to learn about mutual funds, not fantasize about glamor businesses. The most profitable businesses are boring, behind the scenes things, companies you’ve never heard of.”
Lance cleared his throat. He had their attentions now, but now he was so sweaty — and a bit horny — that he had trouble remembering his spiel. He closed his eyes and went over the beginning again in his mind.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s talk about a few words you should know. Who can tell me what inflation is?”
“Yo, I’m too horny fo’ this right now,” said one of the players, a light-skinned man with a handsome face and bouncing dreadlocks. “Trent was talkin’ ’bout his bitches ‘fore you walked in, and now I can’t stop thinkin’ ’bout ’em.”
Another player jumped in. “Plus you made me think about girls. Who’s gonna see that new Sally Anne Whitaker joint, huh? I’s ’bout to bust mah nut just thinkin’ ’bout that bitch. She gimme stiffies for real.”
That caused another bout of laughter and boasting from the players. This didn’t last very long, however, before Trent yelled for silence.
“Hey, y’all niggas shut the hell up. If we let ‘im finish, we can all go fuck our bitches,” Trent said.
“Let’s just ram ‘im, he obviously wants it,” said a player. Lance couldn’t tell who it was who said that, but as soon as he did, Lance shuddered a little. Then he smiled as they all laughed — it was obvious Lance wanted it. That comment helped to shatter the awkwardness of the situation.
Everyone fell silent, waiting for Lance to respond. Lance couldn’t think of anything to say at all, he couldn’t bring himself to get on his knees and start servicing them all, even if that’s what he wanted to do, and he couldn’t remember how to continue his presentation. He was utterly dumbfounded, couldn’t agree, couldn’t disagree, couldn’t do anything but stand there in his boxers like a nerd.
“Alright, well let’s do it,” Trent said. He jumped to his feet and approached with his cock in hand. He gave it a stroke. His team chittered, as though they thought he was all-talk.
Lance dropped to his knees. He had a feeling this was going to turn out to be a big prank, like Trent was going to throw a cream pie in his face instead of his cock, but he couldn’t just decline.
“Go’n nigga, damn!”
“Throat the honky down, Trent!”
The other players oohed and aahed, which turned into whooping and hollering when Trent fed his dick down Lance’s throat. He had a cocky smile on his face like he was glad to be the most adventurous player on the team.
The taste of sweaty cockmeat overwhelmed Lance. This was all happening so quick that he gagged on the flavor, then began excitedly deep-throating. Trent’s cock was only just starting to firm up, but he swallowed it as deep as he could get it, making the other players cheer and laugh. He nestled his nose in Trent’s thick pubic bush.
“Lemme in there, nigga,” said one of the other players. He thwacked his cock against Lance’s cheek. Trent grumbled, but he didn’t say no, not even when their cocks glancingly touched each other, which made both men wince and look away. Both looked like they would have objected, but nobody wanted to get called out as squeamish by the others.
Lance moved from Trent to the next player, Jashwan, a tall and lean thug who sneered at Lance. He gripped Lance by both ears and began plowing his face. “Take it, bitch, you little nerd, damn…”
“Force it down that bitch’s throat!”
“Lemme in there-“
“-feels like a shallow pussy-“
“Damn, honky got throat, yo!”
They were in a circle around Lance now, and they laughed as they passed his head between them. Each person grabbed him by the ear, pushed their dick into his throat until he gagged, then passed him onto whoever was next.
“Damn,” that Jashwan Mitchell said, “I ain’t nevuh had a whiteboy on mah dick ‘cept a prison bitch. They actually handle a dick pretty good when you ain’t forcin’ it.”
His teammtes all laughed, but stopped just a moment later when someone shot his load already. It was a burly, mustachioed black man named Deontay, who appeared to be embarrassed at cumming so soon. He sprayed his load right over Lance’s face and a little even got on Trent’s cockshaft before he pulled away.
“Yo, I oughtta beat yo’ ass fo’ that, nigga! You got yo’ cum on me!”
“Damn, that nigga lasted about three minutes…”
Trent’s anger vanished as the rest of the team laughed at Deontay, who stroked his limpening cock like he didn’t notice them guffawing at him. His creamy cum dripped into Lance’s mouth as Lance licked every drop off.
“Taste sum white meat now, honky!” said Dirk, the team’s only white player, causing a burst of hilarious laughter from the others. He rammed his dick in Lance’s mouth. Lance got the distinct impression that this was Dirk’s first time with a man, and that he wouldn’t have agreed except everyone else did and he didn’t want to be left out. His dick was soft, but it jerked to full attention once Lance started working on it.
Soon enough Dirk was in the same circle as the others, laughing as they pulled Lance from cock to cock. Precum coated Lance’s tongue, the salty flavor combining with the general air of sweatiness in the cramped sauna. He loved that taste, and he licked the sweat off their heavy scrotums.
“Hey, let’s bukkake the math nerd!”
It was Trent’s idea, but everyone was into it. They thought the idea was hilarious, and no one asked Lance if it was okay with him. It was, of course, but it would have been nice to be asked. Also, Lance wasn’t a math nerd. He was a business nerd, and he used to work as a merchant marine and even a lumberjack, but it didn’t feel like a good moment to bring that up, and his mouth was full of dickmeat.
“Oh, nasty! This sauna gonna get real gross real quick!”
He loved it when guys painted cum all over his face. That was precisely what center Khyree Pankhurst did just a moment after they agreed to bukkake. He grabbed Lance by the forehead and sprayed cum all over Lance’s face.
It dripped over his body as Lance jerked Khyree’s dick until it was totally limp and had no more cum dripping off the tip. He thought that was it, that no one would touch his face now that it had cum all over it, but the next player to go was Lamar, the one they call a prettyboy cuz he had Nickelodeon dimples and few tattoos. Despite his prettyboy face, he had no compunctions about smearing jizz over Lance’s nose and cheeks with his dick, which he then jacked off into Lance’s mouth. When he came, he pulled out to spray his nut all over Lance’s already cream-coated face.
“Damn, that nigga touched that cummy face! Fuckin’ gross!”
“Buncha little babies,” Lamar grumbled as he stepped away. “How y’all ever gangbang a bitch if’n you ’boutta explode every time you get a little nut on ya?” He wiped semen from his fingers onto Lance’s shoulder.
After Lamar, the men burst one after another in quick succession. They cared less and less with every passing second about touching each other’s cum. Two of them even shot at the same time then, both big pulsating shafts resting on Lance’s face as he stroked them off with both hands. Their fleshy cocktips touched as they sprayed salty seed over Lance’s face.
“Nigguz make a mess, damn!”
Then came Dirk, who blushed as he approached. He definitely avoided touching Lance’s face, right up until he actually orgasmed. He closed his eyes and his dick twitched until it touched Lance’s lips. A big ball of sticky cum dripped there, touching Dirk’s finger and cocktip.
That made him shudder in disgust. Even with his eyes closed, Dirk could tell what was happening, that his cock was touching other men’s cum. His discomfort made it obvious to the other players as well, and they laughed away the awkwardness.
“White man gettin’ nasty too, nice!”
It was Trent who approached with his cock, still rock-hard since he had been saving himself to go last, and wrapped one arm around Dirk’s still-orgasming shoulders. “Come on, whiteboi,” he said. “Don’t tell me you never gangbanged a bitch befo’?”
Then Trent put his limp cock on Lance’s face right next to Dirk’s throbbing white member. Dirk blushed and gagged in disgust but didn’t complain, even as Trent’s ropy muscles left a layer of sweat over his body and Dirk’s cock dribbled the last of his cum all over Trent’s cockshaft.
“Lookit that whiteboi blush, he ain’t nevuh jousted dicks befo’, huh?”
A part of Lance felt bad about making Dirk uncomfortable — the rest of the team acted as though no man had ever become an adult without jousting cocks in someone’s mouth — but Lance was so aroused he couldn’t resist. He took both cocktips in his mouth at once, mashed them both together and flickered his tongue in both pissholes.
“He’e it cums, white man, you gonna taste this fo’ real…”
Before Dirk could pull away, Trent had his own orgasm. He sprayed his load all over Lance’s tongue and teeth, and Lance kept his mouth moving so the entire wad of nut coated Dirk’s limpening cockshaft. Lance sucked it up, then spat it out over both Dirk’s and Trent’s dicks then sucked it up, then spat it out, and he only stopped when they both pulled away.
Lance sat there for a moment, savoring the feel of cum covering his face. He barely even noticed that he was masturbating himself, not until that moment, when he shot his own load onto the floor.
“Ew, nasty-ass pervert, gettin’ his own nut e’rywhere!”
Pleasure undulated through his body, along with a potent sense of shame as the team laughed at him. He blushed and looked down, embarrassed even as an incredible orgasm washed over him. He laughed with the others though, as they swatted dicks and flicked jizz at each other.
At last it was all over. Lance slowly licked all the cum off his face as the players wiped their dicks clean, breathing heavily and speaking quietly — their boisterousness was mostly gone now.
Lance rose to his feet. “Uh, okay…” The men all laughed at his awkwardness.
“Go on, man,” Trent said. the whole team fell quiet. “We need to know this shit. What is inflation anyway?”
“Yeah. When you’re done, can we do that again? I’ll be ready to get hard again,” said Lamar.
Lance blushed and smiled. He gathered his breath. “Absolutely,” he said to throngs of cheering. “And if you want… every time you come to my office to talk about your options, I’ll jerk you off again.”

Thug Punishment

Avery is a personal trainer for the legendary ex-con Thumper White, when Thumper sets up for him an outrageous alpha male punishment scenario like Avery’s been dreaming of!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery thought his new client was going to be a pain in the ass. He was a rough-looking middle-aged black man, a former pro boxer supposedly. He had argued with and fired two personal trainers already. Rumor had it that he had spent the last thirty years in prison.
He introduced himself as Thumper, and he had a big smile on his round face. He was covered in crude tattoos and muscles, with a thick layer of padding. His tats were faded, maybe prison tats. Avery felt small and weak in front of him, and his knees buckled under Thumper’s withering gaze. He had a simmering intensity that made Avery both uncomfortable and warm, a-thrum with desire. Thumper’s broad chest muscles rippled, already dappled with sweat because he had been on the treadmill before Avery arrived.
“You still like what you see?” His pecs bounced.
“Oh, you… uh, yeah, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. We can work on your abs-“
“Nah,” Thumper said.
A long, terse silence filled the air. Avery thought Thumper was going to say something else, but he didn’t. Thumper pointedly waited. He sniffed, then grabbed at his crotch to scratch his balls. His thick cock was briefly outlined by his shorts, and Avery felt his knees grow weak. A burst of unwashed convict musk hit Avery’s nostrils.
Thumper grinned. “Spot me, man.” He got down on the bench press machine.
Avery began counting along with Thumper’s lifts. One. Two. Three. Normally as he counted, Avery would give some helpful advice, tips or encouragement, but Thumper’s shorts still outlined his cock and Avery couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was so big, like a kielbasa, and his shorts were so thin Avery could see the veins of his cockshaft through the fabric.
When he finished the first set, Avery nervously said, “So you don’t want to work on your abs?” Truthfully he just wanted to get between Thumper’s legs to hold his feet down, but most men were ab-focused, so Avery thought Thumper might want to work on that.
Thumper shook his head. “I’m too old to worry about that. Ain’t gonna get six-pack abs anyway. So it don’t matter,” he said. “You got a quiet back room or something?”
“Uh… not really. I mean the locker room is pretty quiet-” Avery stopped himself because he realized Thumper wanted a private spot. Thumper licked his lips and Avery’s knees went weak. Avery blushed. “I mean… There’s a sauna. No one’s probably in there this early in the morning. We could lock it-“
“There ya go,” Thumper said. He gestured towards the back of the gym. “Lead the way, man. As you go that way, practice making a face like this.” He demonstrated an open-mouth face, complete with his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek to simulate a cock.
Avery walked into the steamy sauna, glad to see that no one was in there. He quickly locked the door behind Thumper. “This won’t really give us a lot of privacy. The door’s not supposed to be locked, it’s not safe. If someone on staff sees it-“
“Hush up, boi,” Thumper said. He got real close to Avery, so his broad chest touched Avery’s lean torso. The body heat emanating from Thumper wrapped Avery up, and he backed himself up so his shoulders rubbed against the firmness of Thumper’s body.
“Uh-“
“Say yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You my trainer, right? You work for me? You call me sir.” Thumper’s voice was a low throaty growl that made Avery’s heart flutter.
“Yes, sir.”
“You wanna jerk me off, boi?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get on yo’ knees and do it.”
Avery sunk to his knees. A part of him was still worried he’s get in trouble, but not a big part of him. He desperately wanted Thumper’s cock.
He reached up to pull down Thumper’s shorts, which were soaked with sweat and moisture from the humid air here in the sauna. But Thumper swatted his hand away.
“Nah, boi. Use yo’ teeth,” Thumper said. He smiled cruelly down at Avery, who shuddered.
Avery gripped Thumper’s shorts with his teeth and pulled them down. It was difficult to get enough leverage to do so, but when he did, and he saw Thumper’s stiff cock jump out at him, Avery was more aroused than he had ever been.
He swallowed the tip of Thumper’s dick. He tried to jack him off at the same time, since Thumper’s dick was much too big for Avery to deep-throat him, but Thumper again swatted his hand away. The taste was warm and musty, salty from sweat or maybe precum or maybe that was the unadulterated taste of manhood. Thumper guzzled it down.
“No hands, Avery,” Thumper said. That was the first time Thumper had said his name, and the way he muttered it like he had never said the word before made Avery shudder with anticipation. Thumper spat, his saliva landing right on the base of his dick. “You can go deep, right?”
Avery nodded without taking the cock out of his throat. Precum filled his mouth. Thumper groaned and began bucking his hips, pushing his dick gently down Avery’s throat. It wasn’t violent, it was more of a gentle grinding motion, like Thumper was making love to Avery’s throat.
Thumper said softly, “I been locked up a lot. I got experience turning every hole I see into a pussy. That’s what yo’ throat is to me. A pussy. My pussy. Make some noise, boi.”
Avery tried to hum, but that triggered him to gag. He fought against it, but then Thumper gripped his head and pulled him off his cock. Thumper leaned down, his face suddenly angry and accusatory. Gobs of spit connected Avery’s mouth to Thumper’s shaft, which throbbed, dripping precum onto the floor. His dick was veiny and thick, and it jabbed around on Avery’s face.
Though Thumper’s words hung in the air, Avery was more focused on that cock. It was so big, so thick, so warm and pulsating. Avery chased it with his mouth, but Thumper didn’t let him catch up with it. Instead, he smeared his dicktip over Avery’s face.
“I say to make noise, Avery. Make it loud. You fightin’ against yo’self. Huh? Why you bein’ disobedient?”
“I’m uh, sorry,” Avery said, breathless. Then he added, “Sir.”
“Good. You should be sorry,” Thumper said. He pushed his cock back down Avery’s throat. Avery sputtered loudly, spitting up a torrent of spit that ran down Thumper’s shaft. Thumper smiled.
“Good. Good job, Avery,” he said. “You are doing a very good job right now. I’m gonna give you somethin’ nice, somethin’ I’m sure you are gonna like. Whatchoo think? You want that?”
Avery pulled off, tears welling up in his eyes from excitement and lack of oxygen. “What is it?!”
“Nah. You agree first,” Thumper said.
“I agree!” Avery said without a second thought.
Thumper chuckled. He dragged Avery to his feet and told him to bend over. “Grab yo’ ankles.” When Avery didn’t immediately follow orders, Thumper bent him over. Avery’s ass aimed high, and Thumper spread his cheeks.
This was a position that Avery had never used. It was difficult to keep his balance like this, with his ass in the air and his entire body down near the ground. He held tightly onto his ankles as Thumper pushed his dick in to Avery’s ass. Intense pressure erupted, but also pleasure coursed through his veins. Thumper’s cock awakened every one of Avery’s nerves.
“Take it, bitch! Don’t fight me, don’t try and get away, you stay right there and swallow my dick up wit’ yo’ ass, bitch.”
The awkward position somehow made this even more arousing for him. Avery had to continue concentrating on remaining upright, and he probably would have fallen except that Thumper kept a tight grip on his ass and hips, forcing Avery to remain in position. That meant Avery was at his mercy, as Thumper plowed hard at his ass again and again.
Then one of Thumper’s hands crept around to Avery’s crotch. There wasn’t much space there since Avery was doubled over, but Thumper managed to grip his dick anyway.
“Yeah, whiteboi, take it!”
Avery was shocked. Not many men were willing to give a reacharound. As Thumper’s cock pounded in and out of his ass, Avery writhed, struggling to let Thumper stroke his dick while remaining in the position Thumper demanded.
“Grab yo’ ankles!” Thumper barked every time Avery was unable to stop himself from letting go. Avery gulped and followed orders. He kept stumbling, as Thumper relentlessly slammed his dick in and out of Avery’s ass. He kept barking orders too. “Make some more sounds, whiteboi. But don’t quit holdin’ onto yo’ ankles, you just hold on tight and keep them knees where I put ’em.”
He was so intensely aroused that Avery barely noticed his own impending orgasm until it happened. Then his whole body bucked and he let go of his ankles, while cum flew down from his cock, sprinkling over Thumper’s fingers and Avery’s body.
“Oh, you gettin’ outta position, huh?” Thumper said. He grabbed Avery by the hair and lifted his upper body, so Avery’s back pressed against Thumper’s chest and his face was right next to Thumper’s. Thumper licked his cheeks as he rubbed the cum from his fingers onto Avery’s face. Thumper didn’t even seem to mind that Avery’s cum coated his face, and soon both men’s features were covered in a bright sheen of cum. It was more apparent on Thumper’s face because of his dark brown skin.
“Don’t you dare kiss me, boi,” Thumper said. Despite his words, moments after that, he did kiss Avery, right on the lips. His tongue plunged into Avery’s mouth.
Avery was shocked again, but he was also distracted as the slick, slippery muscles of Thumper’s body all tensed. He groaned directly into Avery’s mouth, and Avery felt the sound rumbling through his powerful chest.
Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, a huge, thick load that spread to every corner of his insides. Avery moaned loudly, dimly aware that he heard someone trying the door and finding it locked. Cum dripped down his thighs.
Avery didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like it may well have been forever. He grunted as his muscles went limp and Thumper pulled out of his ass. Avery nearly collapsed all the way to the floor.
When he opened his eyes, Avery’s blood ran cold. Standing above him, with his arms across his chest, was Jerry Whittock, the general manager for the Cornerside Gym. He was the only management employee whom Avery had no chance of convincing to look the other way.
“Avery,” Jerry said. “Put your clothes on and meet me in my office.” His eyes flickered to Thumper, who smiled, seemingly oblivious. Fluids coated his entire body, a mixture of sweat and cum and spit and more. He flexed his muscles. Jerry ignored him, turned around and left.
“Hey, sorry, man,” Thumper said.
But Avery just blushed, nodded and walked out. Oh well, he thought, that was totally worth it.
He continued to think it was worth it all day. Jerry was furious, of course. He said Avery was being unsanitary, that it was a bad image for the Cornerside Gym, that women would never want to join if they thought that was the kind of thing they might walk in on. Avery didn’t point out that him and Thumper were in the men’s sauna. No women would be in there anyway.
Regardless, Jerry didn’t do anything. He gave Avery a written warning, which is statistically indistinguishable from doing nothing. He didn’t even send Avery home, because Avery closed this evening and Jerry didn’t want to have to stay late enough to do it himself.
There was no point in being mad at Thumper for getting him in trouble, but Avery was still irked by that. So when Thumper knocked on the Cornerside Gym front door a few minutes after close one night, Avery wasn’t about to let Thumper in now. He shook his head at Thumper through the glass door.
That was when he saw that Thumper wasn’t alone. There was a half-dozen additional black thugs behind him, each looking angry. Thumper himself had a cruel grin and a determined look on his face. Thumper pulled out his phone, and moments later, Avery’s own cell phone rang.
Did I ever give Thumper my phone number? I don’t think so…
He heard catcalls and threats from the other men with Thumper, their voices barely audible through the door but clearly audible through the phone. They were laughing at him through the doorway, calling him a snitch and a “little bitch”. Avery’s heart started pounding as he wondered whether he should call the police.
“Yo,” Thumper said. He sounded confident and stern, but not menacing. “Avery. I know you got in trouble for what happened. So I was gonna make it up to you, man. I was gonna do somethin’ real nice for you.” He paused and held his hand up so his buddies would fall silent. “But instead you had to be a little snitch… Now don’t worry, since it’s yo’ first-time, this is only a warning. We’s gonna come in there, and we gonna ramrod you in every hole you got, homeboy. That’ll be yo’ warning. If it happens again, well… This’ll happen again, but in prison, and for the rest of your life. Now let us in, homeboy.”
His tone made it obvious what was happening. Avery was excited — Thumper had set this up for him to say thanks. Thumper had sensed that Avery wanted nothing more than to be violently penetrated by a bunch of his thuggish friends. Avery’s hostility vanished. Thumper smiled, his cruel visage vanishing; his friends couldn’t see his face, so Thumper crossed his arms over his chest such that his body language was hostile and menacing, but his face said, let us in, we’ll have a good time.
Avery opened the door. He had to suppress a smile, but luckily the other gangbangers were not really paying much attention. It seemed they expected to see a terrified Avery, so that was what they saw. Avery was legitimately afraid, even if he was also excited.
“How we gonna do this, Thumper?”
“Let’s punish that snitch!”
“Alright, homeboys, we gonna destroy this whiteboi,” Thumper said. He placed one hand on Avery’s shoulder, and squeezed supportively. “But we can’t hurt ‘im too bad. No leavin’ marks, homeboys, or he just gonna squeal all over again.”
Thumper led them all into the locker room, and the shower area. Someone turned on the water, so hot steam filled the air. Thumper pushed Avery to stand next to the shower, with his face in the water stream. That made it hard for Avery to hear as the others all took off their clothes.
Avery didn’t need to pretend to be scared. He was terrified, excited, aroused and trembling all at once.
“Wreck that snitch, Thumper!”
Thumper wasted no time in slamming his dick into Avery’s ass. He hooted and pumped his biceps as he did, and he pulled Avery out of the water. Avery gulped and blinked his eyes open, sliding to his knees along with Thumper.
“Make ‘im squirm!”
“Now, we gonna mess you up, boi…” Thumper muttered, spitting directly into Avery’s ear.
The pain in his ass was intense, but Avery could feel pleasure mounting as well. His whole body throbbed in Thumper’s arms. Thumper slammed his dick in hard, ramming it in and out as the hot shower water pooled beneath their bodies.
“Damn, Thumper, you ruinin’ that ass!”
“Alright, let’s have a snitch party,” Thumper said. “Rupert, come here and make ‘im eat yo’ ass.”
Rupert was a tall thug with dreadlocks and a Jamaican accent. He sneered at Avery, whose heart pounded. It looked like Rupert would have beat Avery up if Thumper weren’t here to stop him, and that thought send a thrill up Avery’s spine.
“Eat mi bum, snitch…” Rupert said, his lilting accent echoing in the shower. He turned around and bent over, long dreadlocks dangling over the side of his body. He spread his asscheeks, which were plump and thick even though his body was lean and lanky.
Avery dived in. He didn’t remember to look unwilling, but it seemed no one noticed. They flogged their limp dicks as they watched and hooted out encouragement.
“Ew, he doin’ it! This snitch is nasty as fuck!”
Avery’s tongue lapped at Rupert’s ass, snatching up every drop of sweat he could find. He stimulated Rupert’s prostate, which sent a shiver of desire up Rupert’s spine. Avery could tell that made Rupert hard even if he was facing the wrong way to see it.
Avery was so involved in the rimjob that he barely noticed Thumper guiding his hands up to other men’s cocks. They all had huge cocks, big enough that Avery wondered if Thumper had chosen them based on cock size. Avery stroked someone off with each of his hands as he licked Rupert’s ass.
Then Rupert turned around without warning. He slammed his dick down Avery’s throat, laughing as Avery gagged. He had an incredibly long cock, and it was already dripping precum from the rimjob.
Avery was so focused on slurping off Rupert that he didn’t realize the cock in his right hand was nearing orgasm, not until whoever it was pushed his cock in next to Rupert’s. He felt its heat pulsating against his lips as both shafts mashed up next to each other.
“Shit, you double-teamin’ that snitchin’ bitch!”
Rupert growled and said something Avery didn’t catch, all the men were being so loud right now he could barely make out any words — but he gathered that Rupert didn’t like touching cocks. Nobody seemed to worried about Rupert’s comfort, however, as cum flowed into Avery’s mouth from both dicks, the one he had been jacking off and Rupert at the same time.
They were trying to bukkake him though, so neither sprayed right down his throat. Instead they burst their loads all over Avery’s face.
“Ugh, damn, homeboy, you got yo’ nut on me!”
“Fuckin’ hell, this is sum nasty-ass shit, Thumper, can’t believe you talked me into this.”
Somebody else took Rupert’s place, Tyrell Brickley. Another big black cock invaded his throat, and Avery slathered spit up and down it. By this time Avery had lost count of how many different dicks had blown their wads on his face. They began taking turns on his mouth, jabbing their dicks in just long enough to get hard and make Avery choke a bit, then pulling their cocks out.
None of them seemed to mind that Avery’s face was covered in cum, so they were touching each other’s nuts with their dicks and sometimes even their fingers.
“Makin’ snitch soup on this bitch’s face! Gonna make him slurp that shit up!”
Meanwhile Thumper remained right behind Avery, with his fat cock in Avery’s ass. Thumper was close enough that Avery thought he must have gotten some cum on his face as well, but Thumper either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.
When a thug nutted, nothing changed — the other men kept slapping their dicks over Avery’s face even as their buddy coated their meat with his seed, and then they used their shafts to smear it around on Avery’s lips.
“I bet you wish you ain’t snitch now, huh?”
The taste of cum was intense, and only grew with every passing moment. Avery had never experienced anything so hot, and so delicious. He desperately wanted to lick his face off, but he didn’t. He let them spray and spray until there was no corner of his face that wasn’t covered in hot cum.
Since they didn’t stop smacking Avery’s face with their dicks even after they came, Avery didn’t notice that they were done until he saw that everyone was limp — everyone except Thumper. He was still in Avery’s ass, slowly grinding like he wanted to save himself for the end.
Then he stood up and pulled his dick out. Intense relief flooded Avery, whose ass had grown numb anyway. He could still feel little spermies covering his face and dripping down his body onto the shower floor.
“Make ‘im nasty, Thumper!”
“Ass to mouth! Ass to mouth!”
Thumper smiled cruelly and smacked his dick over Avery’s face. His throbbing hard dick sopped up a mountain of cum, huge gobs of it sticking to his shaft.
“Damn, Thumper, that is some nasty shit!”
Avery opened his mouth even before Thumper was ready. Thumper’s sweaty balls plopped in first, and Avery sucked every drop of fluid from there. Then he kept his mouth open as Thumper aimed his dick right in to Avery’s throat.
He tasted deeply of cum already, since his dick was coated with it. But Thumper ignored that and rammed his dick all the way in. Avery gagged and the other thugs all cheered. They clasped Thumper on his naked back, so close together that Avery could see their floppy cocks brushing up against each other. Either no one noticed or they didn’t care.
Thumper shot his load moments later, grunting and heaving as his wad flowed right down Avery’s throat. He had a huge dick, heavy balls and thick nut, creamy and hot. It tasted sour and sweet and savory all at once, making Avery so aroused he shot his own load into his hands.
Luckily it seemed none of the thugs around him noticed that Avery was jacking himself off — that would surely have tipped them off that he wasn’t the unwilling snitch they all thought he was. He wondered how often they had treated actual snitches like this.
Thumper pulled off. He spat on Avery’s face. “You learn yo’ lesson, snitch?”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said. He didn’t have to force himself to gag when Thumper withdrew his dick, and he gagged again just at the thought of so much cum still clinging to his face.
Thumper reached down and touched Avery’s cheeks. He wiped his hand over Avery’s face, covering his fingers in cum. That much was apparently more than the other thugs expected, because they all clutched each other and hooted like they had never seen something so incredible.
“Damn, Thumper you are one nasty old nigga!”
His hands were callused and firm. Avery licked them clean, and again he didn’t need to force himself to gag. He sucked up every drop off Thumper’s dirty hand, and then when Thumper turned around, Avery kissed his asshole as ordered.
“Give it a nice sloppy kiss, snitch, and then we leave you alone,” Thumper said.
Avery collapsed into a sweaty mess on the floor. He was spent and exhausted. The other men all interpreted it as fear and self-loathing, and they all wagged their dicks in his direction as they put their clothes back on.
“Twenty minutes, bitch,” Thumper said. “You ain’t allowed to clean up for twenty minutes. You sit there with our nasty on yo’ face and think about being a dirty snitch. You can clean yo’self up after twenty minutes.”
They all walked out, leaving Avery there alone to gather his breath. He didn’t know if Thumper had any way of verifying that Avery waited twenty minutes, but he had no intention of disobeying anyway. Avery loved the bukkake all over his face, and he would have stayed there all night if it hadn’t dried and gotten crusty eventually.
Instead Avery waited until the twenty minutes were up, then took a shower. He was surprised to find Thumper waiting for him out in the main room. Thumper grunted.
“You okay?”
Avery nodded. “Thanks, that was-“
“Shut up. I wanted to make sure you was okay,” he said. “I just might have some more homeboys in the future who wanna punish a snitch. You ready to be that snitch?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Good.”

The Fat Jock Bottoms

A lot of rugby jocks are six-packed hunks with perfect physiques… Orson Gammond is not one of them. He’s desperate for a woman to pay attention to him, so when some cheerleaders dare him to let their twinky buddy ride him like a pony, Orson is eager to agree!

But can Orson bend over and take it long enough to put on a good show for the ladies he craves?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

The cheerleading squad consisted of fourteen girls and Bart Dazzle — he was the only man on the squad. They were best friends, and Bart spent all his time with them. Bart always felt more comfortable with women, but he did appreciate the male form. The cheerleaders attracted some pretty appealing exemplars of the male physique, and they got Bart invited to all the coolest parties and get-togethers at Goldendale Hills University.
At first Bart enjoyed watching the cheerleaders take turns sucking off Raython, the football player, but soon it became old hat. He watched them take turns “reverse-gangbanging” the captains of the football team, and then the captains of the basketball, rugby and soccer teams. Not every cheerleader participated, but most of them did. They thought it was hilarious, which Bart had to admit it kind of was. But it was hot too. Bart enjoyed watching sex more than joining in.
One of the few players they didn’t think was sexy was Orson Gammond. He was a prop on the GHU rugby team, and like most props, he was huge. He wasn’t fat, but he hardly had a perfect body either. He was one of those men who was too muscular to have a six-pack. His belly jutted out with the sheer power of his oversized frame. He was goofy, with a big round face, a perpetually uncombed shock of thick black hair, and an awkward sprinkling of tufts of hair over his strapping chest. He had an ass that just didn’t quit — too plump to be a “bubble-butt” but plenty round and thick and inviting. Bart just wanted to spend hours covering it in whipped cream and licking it clean.
At a giggley late-night drinking session on Saturday, Bart and the girls had rated the members of the rugby team. The discrepancy over Orson’s ranking was tremendous — Bart rated him highly, while the girls uniformly put him on the bottom of the list.
That was what had sparked the girls to come up with this plan, which Bart had raced to agree to.
“Hey, so we’re having a sauna, Orson, and you can come in if you want…” said Lisa Anne, poking her head out of the sauna and into the locker room. The other cheerleaders giggled behind her.
Orson’s eyes opened wide. Everyone else in the locker room fell silent. They usually did when one of the girls came in. Orson had never been invited into the sauna with the cheerleaders before.
He grinned like a goofy bastard, and he even did a little dance there in front of Lisa Anne before going into the sauna. That made his jockstrap bounce and his pecs shake. Lisa Anne squealed because of his big caveman-like face leering at her. She blushed.
“Hell yeah, are you gonna jerk Orson off? Hey!”
“Can I come too?”
The other players were both surprised and annoyed that they didn’t get to come. The cheerleaders usually only took one player into the sauna at a time — reverse-gangbanging jocks was a cheerleading tradition here at GHU. Bart had come in and watched a few times, and he got to very briefly taste Raython Lake’s cock once. He had thought Raython wanted some dome from him as he ate cheerleader pussy, but it turned out Raython wanted a blowjob and simply hadn’t noticed who was on his cock at the time.
The sex was exaggerated though. It was more of a prank than anything else. Usually the entire cheerleader squad would bring one player in, and they’d tease him, dancing, laughing, maybe give him a massage and a lapdance, and then either suck his dick or fuck him. Sometimes they’d all do it. They’d usually all pretend to join in — at least touching him — so they could say it was an orgy. But Bart had never seen any man have actual sex with more than two girls in the sauna. Usually they’d make a big deal out of it, but then only the sluttiest girls on the squad did anything, while the rest giggled and teased. The athletes at GHU were usually too testosterone-charged to fuck a dozen girls before cumming.
He had also never seen Orson in there.
Orson was so huge — nearly seven feet tall — that he seemed to fill up the sauna. As soon as he strode in, the girls all fell silent. Orson blushed. He had a big dick that barely fit in his dingy jockstrap. His body heat turned the sauna even warmer.
“Hi, uh, girls.” Orson chuckled, his deep voice resonating in the wooden-ceilinged sauna. He blushed deeper every time he caught a glimpse of a naked girl through the steam.
“Hi, Orson…” said Lisa Anne, who grinned at him. “So… don’t get too excited, we didn’t invite you here because we want to fuck you.”
They all laughed because Orson looked crestfallen. Bart felt bad for him and got up. He wrapped one hand around Orson’s waist, hugging him close. “Oh, you poor baby…”
“Man…” Orson lifted his nose. “Why’d you invite me in here then?” He completely ignored Bart, who nuzzled his belly and even touched his asscheeks. Bart’s delicate arms reached all the way around Orson’s wideness, and Bart nuzzled the sweat-dappled flesh of his torso.
“Oh, sorry, sweetheart… you’re so nice, baby…”
“We just love you so much, Orson!”
“You’re so cool! Really, so so cool!” The cheerleaders squealed and cooed. Their tits jiggled, which was what Orson’s eyes followed.
Only then did Bart tweak Orson’s nipples, which finally got his attention. Orson looked at Bart’s petite body wrapped around him, as Bart licked a trail down his belly.
Orson frowned. That frown turned into a scowl, though he didn’t seem annoyed by Bart touching him. It seemed like he scowled just because that was what he thought guys should do, or maybe he thought he needed to in order to communicate that he wanted to mess with the girls in here, not Bart. Or maybe he was just a scowler.
In any case, his dick was hard. His belly was in the way, so the girls didn’t see, but Bart could tell. Orson might not have even realized he was hard. His eyes were hypnotized by the enchanting jiggle of their tits.
Lisa Anne touched Orson right on the navel, and she giggled — all the girls were giggling, that was their natural state — but Lisa Anne’s giggles intensified when she touched Orson’s belly. His bellyfat jiggled like her tits. Lisa Anne didn’t touch men with bellyfat. Her last boyfriend was Raython the football player, who had a six-pack like a movie star. She had never dated a man who didn’t have a six-pack, and Orson had never even seen his ribcage.
Bart could feel his ribcage though. Orson watched her finger explore up his body to his powerful chest. Orson’s muscles rippled under his torso fat when Lisa Anne traced her finger back down his belly, then scampered away like a Japanese photographer before Godzilla. Orson wasn’t touched by girls often, so that made him shudder and shake.
“So, we didn’t invite you in here so we could fuck you,” Lisa Anne said. The girls all laughed. Orson — who had a reputation as a dummy — just stared at her blankly. Lisa Anne patted him on the side. “I would like to propose a trade. You get to do whatever you want with someone on this squad, and then someone on this squad gets to do whatever they want with you.”
“Okay.” His baritone voice rumbled. He blurted out his answer without taking any time to think. It was obvious he hadn’t figured out where this was going.
Lisa Anne giggled. “I didn’t tell you who yet.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care, you’re all beautiful.” He blushed again as they all oohed and aahed at him. He wiggled his body and even covered up his jockstrap as he felt momentarily vulnerable. He seemed to have forgotten it was Bart stroking his asscheeks and his muscled thighs. Bart slurped up the sweat clinging to his flesh.
“Thank you so much, sweetie,” Lisa Anne said. She blushed too. She wasn’t usually this forward with men, but it was obvious Orson wouldn’t catch anything that wasn’t made very explicit. Lisa Anne cleared her throat. “Okay, you have to let Bart here ram you up the ass. And then we’ll-“
Orson looked down at Bart, who still clutched his torso. It took a moment to sink in, then Orson grunted and stepped away. It looked like he might leave the sauna. He covered his jockstrap with both hands, as though he just now noticed he was naked in front of a gaggle of girls plus Bart.
“What? He ain’t a girl.”
Lisa Anne and the other cheerleaders giggled. “Well, yeah, we know that. We just think it’d be so hot, baby. We wanna watch-“
Orson jumped between his feet a couple times. He was too nervous to stand still. He cleared his throat. “Yo, girls, come on… Come on…”
“You can say no, Orson.”
“Yeah, we’ll just mess with each other instead. We can have an all-girls day, y’know, if you don’t want to do anything…”
“Ooh, we should do that while Orson gets it up the ass! That way he’ll have something to watch!” Lisa Anne squealed, and the other cheerleaders all agreed that that was a good idea. They sometimes made out or even ate each other’s pussies for the benefit of the players, so that part wasn’t so strange for them.
They all reacted as though that settled it, and Orson had said yes. He hadn’t, but he hadn’t left either. A part of him knew he was going to do it even as he tried to bargain with the girls.
“How about I let him just jerk me off or whatever? That’s not too weird.” Orson’s big round cheeks were red as cherries.
“We’ve seen that, baby. We’ve seen Bart jerk off all kinds of guys,” Lisa Anne said. That made Bart giggle — it was true, they, or at least a couple of them, had done that before. Men would do anything Lisa Anne said. “Besides, he can’t bottom all the time-“
“He’s a bottom, I can tell by lookin’ at him!” Orson shouted.
“Oh, you don’t know, you can’t tell how much of a bottom someone is by looking at him,” Lisa Anne said. She crossed her arms over her chest. Orson sighed and nodded. Then, just to help make this easier for Orson, she kissed another cheerleader right on the lips.
Orson watched the girls making out like his life depended on catching every detail. Bart came back to hugging him close, just to see how comfortable he was so far. Bart’s hand moved down to his crotch and handled his fat erection. Orson twitched but he didn’t respond. Bart kissed him on the belly, then climbed onto the sauna bench to kiss up his chest. Orson was totally stiff, unmoving, staring straight at the girls as they made out.
His muscles were hard as rock. Since Orson didn’t have a perfect body and he was usually pretty low-key, his muscles were never really this firm. It was like touching a stone statue. He seemed to be going for pretending it wasn’t happening.
“Ooh, Orson, that’s so hot…”
“We love you, baby!”
Orson grunted at them. Bart knelt in front of him and put his mouth on Orson’s cock, just long enough to make it hard. Orson had a deliciously greasy flavor, full of machismo and unwashed manhood.
But instead he sat down and spread his legs. Bart couldn’t help but giggle — he couldn’t believe he was really doing this. The sight of girls fingering themselves and each other was strange too, something Bart never really had seen before, not like this.
Even when the girls told him to put his mouth on Bart’s dick, Orson didn’t stop watching them eat each other’s pussies. He knelt in front of Bart, blushing intensely. He opened his mouth and winced even before Bart’s dick passed his lips. He scrunched his eyes shut.
“Swallow it!”
“Oh my god, that’s so hot! You’ve never been sexier, Orson!”
Bart couldn’t tell if they were telling the truth, teasing Orson or exaggerating to make him feel more comfortable — Bart had won a bet with the girls, that was why they agreed to make Orson do this. Plus they probably wanted to see how much they could make a frustrated and horny fat guy do. So they hooted and flashed their tits at Orson as cringingly brought his mouth closer and closer to Bart’s manhood.
As soon as Bart’s dick touched his tongue, Orson gagged so violently Bart didn’t think this was going to happen. Orson retched and spat up a big wad of saliva onto the floor of the sauna. His now-open eyes looked dourly on towards the girls, who all giggled as they watched, having removed their tops now entirely. When Orson caught sight of their breasts, he again was hyponotized them. His cock twitched, and Bart stroked it with one hand the best he could — Orson was so tall that it was difficult for him to stoop low enough to put his mouth on Bart’s dick, and when he did, that placed his crotch nearly out of reach for Bart’s hand.
He opened his mouth and gagged again when he took Bart’s dick past his lips. His gags made his bellyfat and his thunderous thighs wobble and made the muscle under his meat flex and ripple. Bart explored those jiggling muscles as his dick jabbed and roped around on Orson’s face — Bart didn’t focus on getting it straight in Orson’s mouth, because that made Orson gag and spit it out, and Orson was more focused on the girls and their catalogue of tits. That meant Bart and his hands could roam over every inch of Orson’s face and chest and even his ass. Orson was a big man with a big mouth, and he tried to take Bart’s dick without actually touching it any more than he could help it — he tried to take his dick in his mouth without letting it touch his tongue or the sides of his mouth.
And he was big enough, he could sort of do it. His mouth was cavernous, and Bart got his entire dick in there before he felt Orson’s tongue finally batter his shaft.
“Oooh, baby, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen…” The girls moaned, their giggles turning to quiet titters so Orson wouldn’t feel they were laughing at him. They were, of course, or some of them were, holding back hysterical laughs so hard their cheeks were turning red like Orson’s. Orson did not notice.
When Bart’s dick got to be too much for Orson, he closed his eyes, only to open them when he realized that meant he couldn’t see the cheerleaders. With some effort, he managed to keep his tongue on Bart’s cock. He was surprised to find that the taste wasn’t so bad. He had gagged initially because he was humiliated and worried about how gross it would be.
But it actually tasted just like pussy, he thought. A lot of girls refused to fuck him, they just let him lick their pussies — because he had a nice big tongue but his dick was too big for them, and they didn’t like having to cram beneath his massive body — so Orson was an experienced pussy-eater. He had tasted a lot of vaginas, and this cock tasted just like one.
He wasn’t sure if that was because all cocks rather tasted like pussies, which seemed logical if disconcerting, or if Bart specifically tasted like a girl. That option had a certain logic to it, since Bart was effeminate.
Regardless, once he got started, Orson thought it wasn’t so bad. He had to watch the girls out of the corner of his eyes, but that was enough to see them, and as long as he thought about that, he wasn’t too embarrassed at the cock drilling down his throat. He could almost ignore it.
Bart didn’t mind the awkwardness of it. He was a bottom by habit and by nature, so he rarely got jerked off like this, and he had certainly never been jerked off by a massive rugby jock who outweighed him by like two hundred pounds. He forced his dick down Orson’s throat, and the more Orson got into it, the less he gagged and the more he could keep an intent stare at the naked chicks in front of him.
It was almost too awkward and nerve-wracking to really be enjoyable. For a moment Bart wasn’t sure this would go anywhere. It was the worst dome of his life, objectively speaking, but when he felt that tongue slather spit on his shaft, and Bart touched the sweat-dappled muscles of Orson’s back, a shiver of pleasure ran up his spine.
Bart moaned. Precum flowed onto Orson’s tongue, enough to spark another torrent of gagging. That made the girls giggle, but they didn’t stop. Orson just arranged his body so he could get a better look. More and more precum spewed forth, as Bart was overcome by throes of passion and an intense desire to blow his wad. He tried to hold back though.
Finally, when Bart thought he was about to cum, he pulled out. He bent over and kissed Orson on the lips before Orson could say anything else.
The girls cheered him on. Orson wrinkled his nose and didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t stop Bart. Bart’s tongue plunged into his mouth. Orson sighed but endured it, while Bart’s hands roamed all over his body.
Bart very nearly sat on his lap as they kissed, out of pure instinct and habit — he loved taking it up the ass like that, sitting on his alpha’s lap. But instead he reversed it, sitting on that bench and motioning for Orson to sit on his cock.
“Oh.” Orson hung his head. He had hoped maybe Bart would cum just from the blowjob. But there were so many naked girls all around him that Orson couldn’t bear to say no. He wanted this more than anything. Orson would have found it difficult to say no to any number of naked girls for any reason.
The position was awkward, but Bart loved it — he feel of Orson’s fat body twisting into position made the whole thing sexier. Bart held onto Orson’s hefty ass and back as though he could help support him, while Orson lowered himself onto Bart’s crotch.
“Do it! Do it!” The girls squealed and squirmed in each other’s arms. They must really be enjoying the sight of Orson getting it up the ass, Bart thought. He was glad. He wondered if they could do this again.
Then Orson let out a deep-chested howl as Bart’s cock slipped in. For a moment, Orson thought something was wrong. This hurt too much; it wasn’t supposed to be like that; something, he thought, had gone wrong.
His muscles all tensed, and he stopped moving with just the tip of Bart’s dick in his ass. His hole clenched, making Bart gasp, already on the verge of orgasm.
It was lucky that the discrepancy in size made this position difficult, because Bart was so turned on he would have blown his load right away if it was easy. He gripped Orson’s massive asscheeks, each one of them seemingly bigger than Bart’s whole body, and he guided Orson down.
The girls slowly stopped making out to watch. Orson gasped and heaved, his face turning redder and redder with every bit of Bart’s cockmeat sliding into him. He fumed and stopped a few times, resuming only when he looked up and saw the tits and pussies surrounding him.
“Oh, shit, man,” Orson said, his voice breathless and weak.
“That is so hot! Oh my god!”
The girls all agreed. Hoping to buck up Orson, they took turns kissing him on the lips while he focused on letting Bart’s entire cock fill up his ass. Bart moaned, his voice breaking and wavering.
Finally, he was in. Bart was overwhelmed by both the pressure and the arousal. He reached up to massage Orson’s back, which stretched above Bart’s head, deliciously imperfect with a few scars and marks, along with a mat of body hair stretching over his shoulders from his chest.
Orson held himself on Bart’s cock. He couldn’t bring himself to move, so Bart pumped his hips upward, plowing Orson’s tight asshole.
“You have such a nice ass,” Bart said. “Goddamn…” That made the girls giggle. Bart reached around Orson’s body. He managed to grab his dick, which was limp. Bart intended to give him a reacharound, but Orson was totally soft, so, Bart thought, that wouldn’t happen.
Just as he was about to let go, however, Bart felt his dick twitch and Orson’s ass loosen. Bart could plow harder now, and Orson seemed to be in less pain. Soon his cock was rock-hard, throbbing in Bart’s grip.
Orson was barely aware of that happening. He could tell that the pain had diminished, and there was a strange, offputting sort of pleasure building up in his ass. He had never experienced anything like it. It wasn’t unambiguously blissful, there was a certain agonizing quality to it, like when you removed a cast and the skin felt good but was so sensitive it hurt at the same time.
That pleasure grew more intense with every passing moment. Orson’s deep moans resonated in the sauna, and his voice was so low and rumbling that it seemed impossibly loud to the girls. He sucked on his lip as he realized he was getting a reacharound and liking it.
He hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he was enjoying this. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t so important. It seemed irrelevant right now, like he couldn’t possibly worry about his sore asshole when his prostate sent wave after wave of inexhaustible pleasure through his veins.
“Oh god, stick him!” The girls squealed and clutched each other.
Bart struggled to reach Orson’s dick. His body was so big it was tough to do, especially with Bart taking the lead in plowing Orson’s ass too. His balls slapped into Orson’s hairy cheeks, while he stroked that massive uncut cock. He had to use both hands to keep spreading the voluminous flesh of Orson’s cheeks.
And then at last, they both finished. Bart orgasmed first, and while he moaned into the meat of Orson’s back and filled his ass up with cream, he was able to speed up his handjob. That sent Orson over the edge at the same time, so he sprayed jets of cum onto the sauna floor.
Bart’s spurting cumloads lasted for what felt like forever. Bart didn’t mind, as he was wracked by spasms of pleasure like golden chords striking throughout his slim body. Though he struggled to accommodate Orson’s hefty frame above himself, Bart didn’t mind at all. He had been hoping to mess around with Orson for awhile. He massaged every inch of those rugby-toned muscles, while pumping his last few drops of cum into Orson’s hairy ass.
Finally, Orson slid off him. He was too exhausted now to sit, so he laid down, glad to see that Lisa Anne sat next to his head. She patted him on the cheek.
“Oh my god, Orson, that was so hot…” Lisa Anne said with a giggle. The other girls all rushed to agree.
Bart took a deep breath. The girls were swarming Orson, who beamed — despite his embarrassment, he was glad to have done it because girls had never given him attention like this before. He had already cum but Orson was desperate to go again as long as it was with a girl this time.
So by the time Bart was on his feet again, Orson was smiling as one of the cheerleaders sat on his face. He snarled like a wolf, making her laugh, and then pounced on her pussy, ramming his tongue right in.
“Oh god, Orson!”
Bart was tired. He hung around for a few more minutes. Orson let him suck on his balls a bit, but eventually the girls were too involved for Bart to find a way in. He was done anyway. There was a linebacker Bart wanted to check out, and he just might have an in with one of GHU’s chunkier coaches too. The campus was full of thick-bodied alpha men, and Bart was on a mission to worship every one of their bodies.

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.”

The New York Alpha

Avery is working as a masseur when a cocky alpha boxer comes to him in need of some release. Heavyweight champion Jaequon Darling is too big, too brutish and too sweaty for women, so he lets Avery swing on his meat.

Can Avery satisfy his alpha-male urges?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When Avery got a job at the Cornerside Gym of Queens, he assumed it would be like the gym back at GHU, where he had worked after graduating. Moving to New York City sounded like fun, so he sent in his application on a lark.
At the time, he thought he might not even go if he got a job offer. It was just a spur of the moment decision to apply. But when he actually was offered the job, he took it. He didn’t even really know why — this wasn’t the career track he wanted — Avery hoped to open his own business one day. He just thought it was time to make a change, and New York City was big and loud and exciting. For a small-town boy like Avery, it was the shock of a lifetime.
The most important shift for him was that, here in the Big Apple, there were different kinds of gyms. Of course there were different gyms at home too, but only a couple and all of them catered to the same people: everyone. There weren’t enough people to have a gym just for casuals or for older retirees.
Or a gym for men. That’s what this Cornerside Gym in Queens was. It was a serious gym for muscle-rats and boxers and ex-cons. Punching bags and old-fashioned medicine balls abounded. There was a large boxing ring in the center, and the equipment was scattered around nearby. Old ladies recuperating after hip surgery would not come to the Cornerside Gym of Queens.
He tried to avoid staring. He didn’t want to look like a leering pervert, especially when he noticed one boxer, Jaequon Darling, who had a handsome blessing of a face and a sculpted heavyweight body, like a sculpture of onyx carved by some forgotten African civilization. He had dimples you could bathe a giraffe in. Avery’s dick stirred in his pants from the moment he saw Jaequon. He felt flush and giddy like a schoolboy having his first crush, and he blushed the one time he sensed Jaequon’s eyes on him.
He managed to avoid making a scene though. His first day was easy enough, and he was glad to have avoided making a fool of himself. He had managed to avoid staring at Jaequon, who in any case had disappeared in the afternoon. Avery assumed he had left.
He was just about to walk out the front door when a middle-aged black man stopped him.
“Yo, fancy-boy,” said the man. “You wuhk he’e, right? You off now right?” He looked like he used to be a boxer, with a powerful frame, flat ears and a crooked nose. His scruffy beard was tinged with gray, but he was still vibrant in his own way, dippy-dapping like a jazz singer whose song never ended. “C’mon wit’ me,” he said, and walked towards the back without waiting to see if Avery agreed or even understood his stawk-heavy Queens accent. He had such an authoritarian vibe, however, that Avery followed without giving it a second thought. The man stopped outside the door to the sauna and wrinkled his nose. He sneered at it as though he was disgusted by saunas. Then he turned to aim his disdain at Avery. “My boy Jaequonin de’e. He wanna see you.”
“He wanna see me? What for?”
“Don’t asx,” said the man. “Just do it.” He opened the door. Avery hesitated before stripping off his shirt and shoes, then walking in. It was a nice summer day, so Avery had changed to his jogging shorts to go back to his apartment. The sauna was thick with fog, and at first, Avery didn’t see Jaequon at all. His shorts fabric clung to his skin with moisture.
“Yo, Pops, when can I come out?” Jaequon asked when the door was open.
The man slammed the door shut without answering, then yelled from outside. “Latuh, nigga. You got a pound and a half to sweat off. Or whatever, shoot off.” His words came with a throaty chuckle that was part jealous and part judgemental, and it made the meaning of ‘shoot off’ very clear. He wanted Avery to jerk Jaequon off.
The thought made Avery shudder with anticipation.
Jaequon was covered in sweat. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a thick afro but not a tall one. His front tooth was badly chipped. He sucked on the chipped part when he saw Avery. He had crazy dimples, which always did set Avery’s heart a-flutter. Jaeqon’s square jaw and round face went with his superhero-like body, which gleamed with a layer of sweat that ran down his body in the overheated sauna.
“Yo, wuzzup,” he said when his father shut the door. He eyed Avery suspiciously. He filled a cup with water from a bucket, sipped from it — a very tiny sip, cuz he was trying to drop weight before tomorrow’s weigh-in — then poured the rest onto the heating element near the wall of the sauna. It sizzled and sent up a fresh cloud of mist. “You new here, huh?”
At the sauna at the old gym, where Avery used to work, they used juniper and cedar to give the steam a pleasing scent. It was nice, but it was nice for the old ladies sweating off the mimosas. In here, where only men came — big, burly men like Jaequon — Avery appreciated that the only odor was the stink arising from Jaequon’s broad shoulders and thunder-mad thighs.
“Yeah,” Avery said. His heart pounded. He hesitated before sitting next to Jaequon. Avery cleared his throat. “You know I’m not on duty, sorry, I can’t help you with anything to do with the gym-“
“Nah,” Jaequon said. He clicked his tongue again, but didn’t add anything else. A long silence filled the sauna. It was so tense that Avery held his breath until Jaequon spoke again. “So wuzzup?” He stood and faced Avery, revealing a massive cock swaying between his legs. He thwacked it against the palm of his hand. “You wanna jerk me off or what?” He was so tall that his dick lined up with Avery’s forehead, while Avery was sitting down, so when he thwacked it like a club into one palm, it was inches from Avery’s face. A few drops of dicksweat splattered on Avery’s forehead and nose, and the smell of his unwashed ballsac flooded Avery’s nostrils.
“Really… uh, yeah…” Avery said, blushing because he was flustered and thought he sounded stupid. He had thought this was coming, but still managed to be surprised when Jaequon asked it. He swallowed the man’s dick, or at least the first half of it, in one smooth motion. It was slick with sweat and dripping on the floor, still limp and fat, jiggly, warm, intensely salty.
For just a moment, Avery let it rest in his mouth, waiting to see if Jaequon changed his mind. But he didn’t, and Avery slurped on it, battering the tip with his tongue. He pushed his head down to deep-throat the shaft as deep as he could go right now — he needed to loosen up to be at his best.
Then Avery took it out of his mouth, slathered his tongue up and down the shaft, which was already beginning to firm up. Avery liked playing with limp dicks too though, so he roped it around on his face as he chased it with his tongue.
Jaequon moaned loudly. He leaned forward to put his hands on the wall as though he couldn’t keep himself balanced because his cock felt so good. He pounded on the wall with one hand, his powerful biceps shaking.
His dick perked right up in Jaequon’s mouth, his shaft pulsating as it swelled to full erection. Avery slathered spit all the way down to the hairy root. He tried moving his head, but Jaequon held him still and plowed his cock into his face instead. The plump saltiness of his cockhead invaded Avery’s throat, his nose nestling in unkempt pubic hair.
He murmured, and rubbed Avery’s neck with one hand. Jaequon ground his hips into Avery’s mouth. “You like sweaty men, doncha, fancy-boy?”
Avery nodded without taking Jaequon’s dick from his mouth. He looked up and smiled at Jaequon, who frowned as though he hated the dome, even though he kept making sounds like he liked it. Avery caressed the meat of Jaequon’s sweat-soaked pecs.
“Lick my balls den,” he said. He sounded a little guilty, as though a lot of his sex partners had refused to lick his balls. Not Avery, who loved low-hanging ballsacs like Jaequon’s. He slowly licked a trail down Jaequon’s veiny shaft to the sweat-slickened sac beneath.
He put first one ball in his mouth, then the other, and suckled them each in turn. He had huge goose egg-sized balls, throbbing and juicy between Avery’s lips. Since he had been in the sauna for awhile — and was working out intensely before that — he was dripping with sweat. The moisture trickled from Jaequon’s taint and into Avery’s mouth.
Avery loved sweaty men. He loved their sour, bitter taste and the way their flavor overwhelmed his senses. He loved the succulence of their moist muscles. He loved the way Jaequon looked at him as though shocked that someone would be willing to suck on his hairy balls.
“Damn, you must be into sum nasty-ass shit,” Jaequon said with a sneering chuckle. “You swallowin’ it deep, like my sweat makes yo’ dick bigger o’ some shit. Beg me fo’ it, fancy-boy.”
Avery didn’t take Jaequon’s balls out of his mouth for him to talk. He let both balls fall in at once, overflowing from his drooling lips. Then he spoke with that sweaty scrotum spilling over his cheeks, so the only sound that came out was a muffled burst of gibberish.
He made sure that the noise had a begging-like quality, however, so Jaequon knew he was following instructions. Jaequon chuckled, and he pounded on the wall again. He smiled and grunted with satisfaction.
“Why ain’t girls into swallowin’ balls?” Jaequon asked. Avery didn’t answer. He let his tongue flicker into the fleshy scrotum in his mouth. Jaequon lifted his balls up and smiled, dropping them back down with a splash into Avery’s sweat-filled mouth. Jaequon laughed. “I love that, man. Dunno why, but ain’t nothin’ better fo’ me than the sound of my balls splashing into some bitch’s mouth.”
He did the same again a couple times, laughing each time his balls splashed into Avery’s mouth, which filled with more sweat and drool with each passing second. Avery didn’t swallow, or spit, to better allow his mouth to fill. Then Jaequon hesitated, holding his balls right above Avery’s face, so all Avery could see was their thick pendulousness.
“Beg me, fancy-boy.”
“Please, Jaequon, let me slurp on your balls some more. They taste so good,” he said.
Jaequon grunted his satisfaction and plopped them back in one time. “Now gargle,” Jaequon said, gargling himself to demonstrate.
Avery did so, even as he gagged from a pubic hair in his throat the first time. The gagging and the gargling combined to make Jaequon sigh. He felt his left nipple with one hand and pounded on the wall with the other.
“Quit bangin’ on de wall, Jaequon! Niggas tryna work out!” Pops’s voice rang out.
“Shut up, Pops!” Jaequon yelled. As Avery gurgled on his balls even more, Jaequon grunted loudly.
“Donchu tell me to shut up, I can still pound yo’ ass!”
“Try it, motherfucker!”
Pops said something else outside the sauna, but Avery couldn’t hear what it was. He was too focused on Jaequon’s balls. It sounded like these two argued vociferously all the time — it had seemed like workout bravado when Jaequon was actually training, but now Avery thought it was just the way they interacted.
“Yo, Pops, there another whiteboi out there?”
The door opened, but Pops didn’t come in. He sighed. “Nah, nigga, you know that. Whatchoo want wit’ another one anyway? Somethin’ wrong with this one?”
“He swallowin’ on my balls real good, Pops, I just want one on my dick too,” Jaequon said.
Pops paused. “Nah, nigga. You ain’t need that. Just hurry up and bust ya nut,” he said.
“Gimme my phone,” Jaequon said. His voice was a little breathless as though he found this ball-jerking exhilarating. He gave his long shaft a stroke, then let it lay there, pulsating, atop Avery’s face. “I wanna send a video of this to Raitha-“
“No, nigga, no,” Pops said as though they had had this argument before. “She gots a restrainin’ order against you. Why ain’t you got no sense, boy?”
“I ain’t gonna hit her!”
“You ain’t allowed to talk to her, not at all. You definitely can’t send her no pitchahs of yo’ balls, fuckin’ idiot,” Pops said.
“Yeah, say dat to my face, old man!” Jaequon yelled. He was facing away from his father, lifting and lowering his sac onto Avery’s squirming tongue. He smiled down at Avery’s sweat-covered face.
“I just did, muddahfuggah. You’s a gawddamn idiot,” Pops said. “You’re a moron.” Then he shut the door.
Jaequon muttered to no one in particular. “That fuckin’ asshole,” he said over and over. “I’s gonna beat that old man down one day, fancy-boy. You just wait for it.” He bit his lip and felt his nipple again. “You ready to try some cock again?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He took his balls out and rammed his dickhead right in. It was so sudden that Avery’s sweat-filled mouth gagged and spilled the spit that filled it up. That made Jaequon laugh loudly and bang his hand on the wall — this time, he was obviously being as loud as he could to annoy his father.
“Hey, I say keep it down, nigga,” Pops said. He poked his head into the sauna, but even though Avery was facing away, he could tell that Pops was avoiding looking. He might have snuck a peak though, and he scoffed at what he saw. “You nasty, son.”
“Don’t act like you ain’t done it, old man,” Jaequon said. “Yo’ prison bitch came to de house. Remember that? Afronta Momma, beggin’ you-“
“Fuck you!” Pops screamed. He slammed the door shut, still outside the sauna. “You shut ya fool mouf, boy!”
“You stopped cuz yo’ dick don’t wuuhk no mo’!” Jaequon yelled back, loud enough that Pops could hear out in the hall. Jaequon sat down on one of the benches, and took hold of Avery’s head to guide it up and down. “You couldn’t ram any kinda bitch now, old man!”
After a moment, the door opened again. Pops sauntered in. He was naked, floppy club-like cock in his hands. “I’ll show you whose dick works, nigga,” he said with a snarl. Then he wedged his dick between Avery’s asscheeks. “You know what yo’ problem is, nigga?”
“Tell me, old man.”
“You got no respect!” Pops said. He rammed the tip of his dick in to Avery’s ass. It was just as iron-hard as Jaequon’s cock. Pops snarled as he flexed his hips, uncaring of Avery’s feelings. Avery loved being treated as an object, and Pops hadn’t said one word to him since he entered the sauna. “You ain’t even ram dis bitch in de ass, didja, nigga?”
“Dat’s nasty, old man! Dat’s whah’s nasty,” Jaequon said with a scoff. He smiled as Avery gagged on his dick, and Jaequon ground his hips onto Avery’s face. Now that Avery was experiencing a cock in his ass as well, he had trouble maintaining concentration on the dome.
Then they both began shouting at once. The argument only ended when they both leaned forward to punch each other. Since neither was willing to take their cocks out of Avery, it wasn’t much of a fight. Their sweaty bodies clasped each other as they tried to put the other in a headlock. Pops got a good punch in on Jaequon’s face, but Jaequon took it easily and shrugged it off. Jaequon, to his credit, seemed to be holding back, or so Avery surmised — Jaequon had fifty pounds on his father, was twenty years younger and had to be much stronger. But on the other hand, Pops himself was a boxer too in his day, and while he didn’t have the athleticism he used to, he still packed a wallop.
Avery wasn’t even sure what stopped the fight, or who had “won”, if anyone. He focused on the swelling pressure in his ass as Pops pounded his insides, and the sour-sweet flavor of precum flowing down his throat.
“I’m-a tell Momma you rammed a man,” Jaequon muttered.
For a moment, Avery thought another fight was going to break out. Pops actually stopped plowing with his cock all the way in Avery’s ass; he just stayed there, swaying and sneering at his son.
“Go ahead, ya fuuuwckin’ snitch. She knows I done it before, and she know I’s gonna do it again,” Pops said. “If’n I tell her you do it too, she gonna freak out. She gonna make you go to chu’ch-“
Jaequon clicked his tongue against his teeth. “I ain’t ramroddin’ no man,” he said. “Mouf don’t count.”
“You can splain dat to her. She be impressed,” Pops said.
Jaequon muttered defiantly. Despite his tone, it was clear that Pops had won this debate — Jaequon apparently didn’t want his mother to know what he was doing.
“You gonna snitch on yo’ father or not? Whatchoo say, nigga?”
“I said quit slappin’ yo’ oldman balls on his ass, nigga, dat sound make me wanna frow up,” Jaequon said. “I don’t gangbang bitches no moh.”
“Cuz you can’t get any?”
“Nah! Fuck you, old man, I got girls hanging off my meat,” Jaequon said with a wide grin. He moaned as his dick spasmed in Avery’s mouth — it felt like he was near orgasm, close enough that Avery slowed down to drag this out as long as he could.
“Oh, where dey at?” Pops asked. He chuckled as he made a big show of looking all over the sauna for girls, peering under the benches and into every corner.
“I mean… Fuck you, you know what I mean. Raitha dumped me, but I got a waitin’ list, Pops.”
“Like dat fat-ass skank who smelled like a faa’t?”
“No! That was three years ago, and she was ne’euh my guul, Pops! She just a slut who suckt my dick back when I was stickin’ my dick in any waa’m hole,” Jaequon said. “I selective now, muddahfuggah. Dat’s why I don’t do gangbangs.”
Avery’s mind cleared suddenly as Pops pulled out of his ass. Avery gasped around Jaequon’s cock in his throat, and the sudden change triggered Avery’s own orgasm. He sprayed his wad over the floor and moaned; Jaequon didn’t seem to notice, though Avery suspected that Pops did, by the disapproving cluck of his teeth.
It turned out that Pops had pulled out of Avery’s ass to play a prank on his son — he quietly approached with his dick swinging, and then slapped Jaequon in the face when Jaequon’s eyes were closed.
Avery saw just as the aftershocks of his orgasm rocked his body. Jaequon roared and pushed him away.
“Fuckin’ asshole, nigga!”
Pops slapped him across the face, and Jaequon stood up to punch back. Again they exchanged a few blows that Avery couldn’t see because it was above his head. This time, Jaequon was so upset he did remove his cock from Avery’s mouth.
Then Avery moved back down to Jaequon’s cock, which spasmed angrily. It was definitely near orgasm now, and Avery desperately deep-throated it. He caressed the shaft with his tongue, savoring the taste of sweat that now tasted fresh since Avery hadn’t paid attention to Jaequon’s dick for a few moments. That acrid flavor combined with the pit hair stuck to Avery’s lip, overwhelming his senses as he felt both men reach orgasm.
Jaequon moaned as he nutted. He held onto Avery’s head by his hair, and he closed his eyes, feeling up his own nipples. He murmured, “Don’t swallow that yet, lemme see it, baby. I wanna see my cum on yo’ tongue.”
Nut dripping from his mouth because Pops was still plowing and rocking his entire body, Avery tried hard to hold it for him. But Jaequon shot a huge load, and he leaned back, stroking himself for what felt like a long time. Avery strained to keep from spilling the entire load.
Then, just as Jaequon opened his eyes to look, Pops grunted. He smacked Avery’s ass, sending a wave of agony up his spine. It made Avery’s asscheeks ripple though, and Pops grunted his approval of that. Maybe it was that ripple, so like a thick woman’s ass, that triggered Pops’s orgasm.
He let out another grunt, this one intense and moanish, and his yellow-fingered paws dug into the smoothness of Avery’s backside. His grunt turned from a moan to a groan to a growl, accompanied by one more thrust of his waist. That daggered his dick deep into Avery, sending wave after wave of pleasure through both men’s bodies. Avery’s ass squeezed. Pops sucked in his breath and ejaculated a fresh deluge of jizz.
Hot cum flowed into Avery’s guts, and the creaminess of it seeped into Avery’s flesh. Avery cried out for more, not that the other two paid him any mind. His voice was swallowed up by the humid mist of the sauna, which had a physical solidity to it, thickened by the sweat emanating off both men’s naked bodies.
Pop shot a huge load too, just like his son, and he kept sliding his dick in and out, even as it got limp in Avery’s ass. His load turned cummy, coated his cockshaft and dripped onto the floor of the sauna.
“Lemme see dat nut,” Jaequon said. “Ew, you got it all up in dere.” He spat into Avery’s open mouth, then inserted his finger. He pulled out all the cum with one hand, and he looked at his fingers as though someone had made him do that. He sneered in disgust as he smeared the cum all over Avery’s face.
Then he plopped his balls right in Avery’s open mouth. There was a splash as his scrotum was coated in his own cum. He chuckled, lifting his balls up and dropping them back in. His dickshaft gleamed with remnants of all that came before, and his Avery choked up the river of sweat that flowed down his throat, which made Jaequon’s ballsac shine with moisture too. Avery slurped as hard and as loud as he can, and Jaequon’s bullying laugh of derision turned into a shocked, slightly ticklish giggle of desire. His fat cock jiggled above Avery’s head, and when Avery touched it, Jaequon’s whole body twitched.
That prompted him to at last get off Avery’s face. He stood in the center of the sauna with a chagrined look on his face. He swayed his hips, helicoptering his cock in a little circle and beaming like he had invented something. A few drops of sweat or jizz or spit flung off his dickshaft. “Damn, pops. Love dat! He was really slurpin’ on mah nuts, you seen dat, right?”
“Shuddup. You nasty, son,” Pops said. “Dis why Raitha dumpt you. She told yo’ momma it was cuz you stay after her suckin’ yo’ balls.”
“She told Momma dat? Fuckin’ whore!” He screwed up his face. “Ain’t true. Tell Mama it ain’t true.”
“You can’t treat girls like dat, son,” Pops said. “A girl ain’t a sissy.” He rubbed his limp dick clean on Avery’s asscheek, which he again slapped and watched ripple with great interest. That interest turned to disdain, and he stepped away from Avery. Then he put his hand on Jaequon’s asscheek, which he jiggled as they headed to the door out of the sauna. Pops said, “Let’s go weigh you, nigga. If dis whiteboi drained a pound and a half offa you, you can go home.”

The Guido

Avery’s up for another adventure in rough trade, and this time it’s a cocky guido named Joey Rizzoli. He’s got manhood to prove, money to earn and balls to drain…

Can Avery satisfy Joey’s needs?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here

Avery forced himself to exercise. If he didn’t make an effort to move around, he’d burn about fifty calories a day because he could do all his work sitting at a desk. So he occasionally stopped by a Cornerside Gym — he traveled around the country, and Cornerside Gyms were common enough he could usually find one somewhere not too far away from wherever he was.
He was in north New Jersey when he decided to go in for a workout. He had to do it quickly because he hadn’t done any work yet today. But he wanted to do his workout first, so he could finish up before the place filled with overweight divorcées working off their mimosas.
But when he walked in the front door, Avery’s plans changed instantly.
There was a young man there, maybe nineteen years old or so, short and broad-shouldered, wiry-muscled, with a few tattoos dotting his body. He wore a sleeveless shredder — that’s one of those muscle shirts without sleeves or sides, so it was really just a hunk of fabric that covered his chest. He had a fantastic body, short and compact but stunning, six-packed, bulging where it needed to be, smooth and nut-brown.
“Yo, man, whatchoo sayin? I ain’t gotta show no ID, I know that-“
“I’m afraid I’m required to ask for it in this case.”
“Ain’t not a single other motherfucker here that you ask fo’ ID. Nah. That ain’t right.” The young man grunted and his hands formed fists at his side.
“You’ll need to purchase your own membership, sir,” said the clerk, who stammered and blushed.
The guido, Joey, ran his fingers through his dense mane of black hair. He clucked his tongue and feinted like he was going to punch the clerk. “Man, this ain’t ‘bout money.”
“I know you’re not Thomas Molloni,” the clerk said. “Sorry. I don’t care if you share passes. But my boss said we have to put a stop to it. You can buy a year-long membership for only-“
“Man, it ain’t ‘bout the money.” Joey paused. “Ain’t Tommy got some kinda guest passes on his account?”
The clerk shook his head. “Sorry. He had three for the year, but he used them up in January.”
“Man, this is fucked! I been comin’ in here on Tommy’s pass for two years, boy, I swear to God!” Joey had a thick Italian New Yorker stawk. Avery wasn’t sure if that was genuine or an affectation, but it sounded real to him. Joey must have made a face or a gesture that got the clerk scared, something Avery couldn’t see from where he stood. The clerk took a step back and put his hands up. Joey scoffed. “I ain’t gonna hitcha, boy. Man, just… Fuck you. Alright, go fuck yaself.” He spat, turned and licked his lips. He saw Avery and nodded as though they knew each other.
Joey sauntered outside. His hands were clenched in fists, and since his shredder didn’t cover most of his chest, Avery could see that his muscles were tense all over. He walked like he didn’t care though.
“Hey, man, I can help you out,” Avery said. He followed Joey outside. Joey was distracted by his anger, so he didn’t realize Avery was talking to him. “I’ll buy you a membership for a whole year.”
“What?” He paused and thought. “Wait, what? Huh?”
“Will you ramrod me? I’ll buy you a membership for a whole year if you cornhole me,” Avery said.
There was a long pause. Then Joey guffawed. He clasped his belly and bellowed, “Yo, what?!”
“I’ll jerk you off better than any girl, and you can demolish my ass,” Avery said. “Come on… A whole year of gym membership.”
“Yo, man…” He made a face like he was going to say no, like he was going to shout ‘of course not’. He grabbed his dick through his workout shorts. “Yo… Yo, man… Hey… Uh…” He sighed. “Yo, I ain’t poor or nothin’. Don’t get that impression. I ain’t, y’know, I ain’t not buy that membership myself cuz I can’t afford it. Ain’t ‘bout that, man, I swear to God. I’ll light a twenty-dollar Avery on fire now just to prove it-” he took his wallet out then put it back. “I ain’t got no cash, man, but I would, I swear to God-“
“Okay, I believe you. Even when you can afford something, it’s always better to get it for free, right? Plus you get to ram me silly,” Avery said.
“Yeah, but I mean… I got a rep to protec’,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders. “Lotta… I mean, a lotta guys do that, right? Like… fo’ real? That’s true, right? People say that. Like… old guys. Old motherfuckers, y’know, when I was comin’ up… I ain’t nevuh think I get no freak swinging on my nuts. Man, they say that’s how it used to be…” He took a step back towards the door. Then he paused. “Yo, this gonna mean you my puttana. In the old country, a man who get rammed is a lesser man, a bitch, a puttana. That’s old-school, man, but that’s how I roll. You feel me?”
“That’s fine. I’ll be your bitch,” Avery said. He followed Joey inside, and they went to the fearful clerk. Avery paid for a year-long membership, while Joey mean-mugged the clerk. Joey jutted his chin out, flexed his pecs in the clerk’s direction and snarled arrogantly when Avery paid the Avery.
Then they went to the back, into the sauna. As soon as he got in there, Joey took a deep breath like he was nervous. He didn’t say anything though. He just bit his lip and flipped his shirt off.
“Yo, I got a sick body, don’t I?” He licked his lips. “Yeah, girls love me. I don’t even need the gym, man, I swear. The world is my gym, y’know.” He paused. “Like black guys in prison, y’know, you can get hard just in ya bedroom or whatever. You don’t need a gym.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery murmured as he sunk to his knees and pulled Joey’s shorts down. Joey gasped, but covered it up with a cocky chuckle. He leaned back like he was trying to escape.
After a pause, Joey blurted out, “not that I can’t afford it, man. That ain’t why I work out, y’know, wherever. I just…” He gasped a little as his cock popped out. “Damn, boy, you eager.” Then, like he needed to remind himself that he was supposed to be arrogant, he added, “‘Course you is. You wanna taste my meat. Y’ain’t no kinda vegetarian, I bet, no way.” He chuckled to himself.
Despite his cocky words, Avery thought Joey was perhaps the most nervous guy he had ever jerked off. Avery was glad to see that Joey had a big horse-cock — he had been worried that Joey was overcompensating for a small piece of meat, but that wasn’t the case. It was long and thick and veiny, and it twitched as soon as Avery popped the tip in his mouth.
“Yo, man, yeah… I, uh… swallow that shit, bitch,” Joey said. His voice was tremulous, like he had read somewhere that guys should trashtalk when they get dome from a man, but he didn’t really know how to do it. “You some kinda girlyboy, huh? I bet… Pansy, uh… You’s a pansy-ass.”
His dick stiffened up in Avery’s mouth. Joey tasted strong and firm, his cock warm and sending flavors of musk, salt and expensive soap through Avery’s senses. He could tell that Joey used some kind of fruity lotion, either as lube when he jacked off or just as lotion and then he jacked off; either way his cock tasted like it.
“I bet you like this, huh? You into it, girlyboy? Huh? This the best dick you evuh ate? I bet so,” he said with a throaty chuckle.
Avery took his dick out and thwacked it over his face. He shrugged. “Could be better. You can ram my face, y’know. Just grab my head and go for it.”
Joey’s eyes bugged out. “I, uh… I know, man.” He screwed up his eyes as though it was obvious. “Yeah. I assumed that was gonna happen. I was just lettin’ you get started. I’m hardcore, man, swear to God, you don’t even know.” He gingerly grabbed Avery’s scalp and held on tight to his hair. He gulped. “I ram, man, that’s what I do.” He danced a little on his feet. “I don’t let up neither. I tell girls, don’t mess wit’ me if you don’t want yo’ mind blown. It’s gonna be difficult, but it’s worth it, ya know? E’rything good is difficult, swear to God. Ya gotta work at it, baby. So yeah, I’m-a ram ya throat. You my puttana, that’s just right. It’d be wrong fo’ me to be gentle on ya throat, bitch. God don’t want that. God want puttanas treated like puttanas.” He gulped again and pivoted his hips.
His dick slid down Avery’s throat once more. Avery opened up as wide as he could to swallow it, and when he couldn’t take any more, he gagged. He loved that meaty feeling crowding up his throat, making his eyes water as he accepted it all.
“Oh, wait, I seen my uncle do this,” Joey said, his voice finally betraying his excitement. Then he made a serious face. “No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.” He lightly slapped Avery’s face and rammed his dick down again. When Avery gagged, Joey said, “No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.” He did it again, and again, his words not exactly mean but firm and strict, like he was talking to a disobedient prostitute.
Avery loved it. He made no effort to stop gagging. He loved being facefucked, and he loved Joey talking to him like a slutty girl. Joey’s balls slapped against Avery’s chin as he savored the salty taste of precum that flowed down his throat.
“No gaggin’, baby, show me that you love me.”
Finally Joey managed to get his dick all the way in, balls dangling against Avery’s chin. Joey pumped his biceps and cheered. He grunted loudly like a caveman, then realized he might be heard outside the sauna so he stopped.
“Yo, yeah, you my puttana now, hell yeah! Ram! Turnin’ yo’ throat into my pussy, bitch!” Joey said. “Got my balls on yo’ chin. You got chinballs, that’s what you got. I see that, bitch. Yo’ daddy must be ‘shamed of yo’ chinballs, ain’t he? Should be.” He sniffled.
He pulled off and let Avery gasp for air. Thick tendrils of spit connected Avery’s lips to Joey’s cock. Joey’s face was a little reddish, both from sexual arousal and embarrassment, not to mention a physiological reaction to the warm, humid air of the sauna.
“You worshipin’ my shit, right? Yo, you ever seen a man wit’ a body like this, huh?” He gestured to his six-pack. “Fuckin’ bomb, right?!”
“Yeah-“
“Yo, man, I try to strip and the woman — who was a total fuckin’ bitch, lemme tell you. But she say nah, she won’t hire me, she say no way on ‘ccount of I’m too short.” He looked like that was the biggest injustice he had ever heard of. His eyes popped out, jaw jutting forward. “Fuck that, man! Fuckin’ hell!”
“You have a great body-“
“I know, man, I know it! Whatevuh, fuck her, I don’t even care.” He paused. “It weren’t about the money, neither. Strippers make good money, but I got money, no problem. That ain’t it. I just wanted to give girls access, ya know. They deserve it. They need it. Ya dig?” He paused. “I ain’t poor, swear to God.”
“Uh-huh,” Avery said as he rubbed Joey’s precum leaking cock over his face. Then he slowly licked a trail up Joey’s body, licking his chest and savoring the salty sweat that collected there. Joey was visibly uncomfortable with that — it looked like he was ticklish and trying to suppress his giggling — but he didn’t want to stop Avery; he puffed up his chest to make his muscles bigger. Avery smiled. “You know if you were a male stripper, you’d get hired by a lot of men. It’d be a lot of dudes feeling you up, appreciating your physique.”
He narrowed his eyes to slits. “I wouldn’t be that kind of stripper. Unless they pay good.” He paused. “I mean, no… No way, not for no amount of money. I got money, man. My papa got money, yo. He work for the Mafia. You ain’t hear that from me.”
“Sure, yeah.” Avery sucked the sweat off his biceps. “You have amazing arms. I’ve never seen anyone with biceps like yours. So big… You must be so strong.”
“That’s right, puttana, I swear to God. People don’t even know. I’m short, I know that, people’s always, y’know, talkin’ smack ‘bout me bein’ short. But y’know, I got meat, I got muscle, and I work out like none other, swear to God. I be in this gym e’ry day, man, you don’t even know,” he said. He flexed his biceps. “I’m gonna be a stuntman, yo, I swear to God.”
Avery dropped back to his knees and licked Joey’s cock until it was fully hard again, while he rubbed lube into his asshole. Joey didn’t seem to notice, he had his arms folded over his chest as he daydreamed about being a stuntman.
“My papa don’t even know, man, he always talkin’ ‘bout how I gotta go work at McDonald’s or somethin’,” Joey said with a groan. Then he startled and stood up. “I mean… as a front, ‘course. He want me to have a visible source of income, ya know? For the IRS or whatever.” He paused. “I don’t live wit’ my parents. I mean… Wait, yeah, I live wit’ my parents, but only so I can protect ‘em, y’know. There’s all kinda families who wanna hit ‘em, who wanna hit me and might stoop so low as to hit my mama to get at me.” He peered down at Avery to see if Avery was buying this. Avery didn’t care, he focused on slathering spit up and down Joey’s cockshaft. Avery didn’t believe Joey at all about any of this, but he saw no reason to let on. Joey sniffled like he was satisfied. “That’s, y’know, that’s part of bein’ hardcore. You gotta put up wit’ risk, ya dig? Always someone tryin’ to come at me.”
“You ready to ram me?” Avery asked. He kissed Joey’s dicktip, then turned around and guided it towards his ass.
“Hell yeah.” Joey’s voice again betrayed his lack of confidence. Avery wondered if he had ever even rammed a girl in the ass; he suspected not, but Joey, of course, would never admit that. Joey jerked in his breath as his dick pushed into Avery’s ass. Joey closed his eyes and gasped. He leaned against the wall of the sauna.
“Gonna wreck, uh… Gonna wreck ya butthole, man,” Joey said. He sounded like he was near tears, which made Avery suppress a giggle as Joey continued to haltingly, tensely talk shit. “Damn, boy, shit… You, uh… Gonna turn yo’ asshole into my, uh… Uh… pussy. Or, uh… Yeah.”
His hands jumped around in the air above Avery’s back, like he didn’t want to touch a man’s flesh any more than absolutely necessary. He pumped his biceps, showing off his muscles in the mirror on the sauna wall — no one was here to watch except for Avery, who faced the wrong way, so the only person who could see Joey’s muscles was himself.
“Oh!” Joey gasped like he had just remembered something. “You gotta play along, man. I’m callin’ my boy.” He bent over to pick his phone out of his pants pocket. Then he dialed a number. His voice was suddenly deep and gruff, betraying no hint about what he was doing. His dick rubbed against Avery’s prostate, forcing Avery to muffle the sound of his tortuous moan of pre-orgasmic bliss. Joey sneered at him. “Yo. Yeah. I just wanted to let you know I’m doin’ that thing we was talkin’ ‘bout, that you said we should all do but nevuh admit-” He laughed cockily. “Nah, not that. Nah. Nah.” He rolled his eyes. Then he whispered, “ain’t a fat chick, man. I don’t ram wit’ fat bitches, quit sayin’ that, and she weren’t that fat. It ain’t no kinda girl. Remember? You said you’d do it and I was like no way. Well, y’know, my balls got swole and-” He laughed. “Yeah, man, yeah, I’m demolishin’ this boy. He owe me money, y’know.”
Avery grunted as he slid all the way back, finally getting every inch of Joey’s dick in his ass. It was thick and hard, throbbing, and it sent waves of intense pressure through Avery’s body. He felt pleasure too, but it was more distant for now, growing with each thrust of Avery’s body back and forth on Joey’s manhood.
“Nah, this is some bitch who owe me money. He ain’t got it on ‘ccount of him being a deadbeat. So I shove my interest rate right up his stupid bitch-ass, to remind him he gotta pay me. Ain’t that right, puttana?”
“Yes! I’m a deadbeat and I’m your bitch!” Avery groaned. He didn’t make an effort to sound like he was really a deadbeat, but the tension in his voice was enough to further the illusion for the friend on the other end of the line.
Joey scoffed at whatever his friend said. “Yeah, man, I don’t gotta tell you e’rything. Ain’t loan-sharkin’, not exactly. I just got some business interests, y’know. I loan out a little money here and there. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ it, I just gotta get a little creative to get paid. I swear, man, whatchoo sayin’? Huh? I don’t tell you ‘bout all the Mafia-shit I do. Ain’t s’posed to, man, it’s secret. Go ram yaself, Tommy. You don’t know e’rything I do. I swear to God, I just make loans — I got money, Tommy, you know that — fuck you! Fuck you! I don’t ‘live in my parents’ basement’, man, it ain’t like that! I’m security! I keeps ‘em safe!” He paused, screamed into the phone and punched the wall behind himself. “Ram you!” He hung up the phone.
Then, before Avery could say anything, Joey grabbed his hips and rammed his cock all the way in. He growled and grabbed Joey by the hair. He held on tight as he rode him hard.
Pain exploded in Avery’s ass. He moaned, biting his lip to avoid making too much noise. Though the pain was intensified by Joey’s angry plowing, the pleasure was magnified as well. Avery grunted and squirmed beneath Joey’s body.
“Man, ram that asshole, I swear to God. I could kick his ass. I should, man, I swear to God, I will. Next time I see him, I gonna demolish him. He don’t know, man, he don’t know jack-shit ‘bout me, swear to God,” he said. “He knows I’m in the Mafia. He knows that. He just denies it to piss me off.” He was so focused on expressing his anger against his friend that he barely noticed when Avery motioned for him to lower his body.
So Joey just did it. He had started off not wanting to touch Avery any more than necessary, but now he slammed his heavy, muscle-dense body on Avery’s back. He grunted into Avery’s ear as he rammed hard, ramming his dick in and out. He was oblivious to everything except his harsh words muttered into Avery’s ear.
“He’s a pussy anyway, man, he didn’t lose his virginity until senior year, swear to God, that is some weak sauce. He always cryin’ bout how he loves some girl or another, man, that ain’t hardcore,” Joey said. “So he don’t even know. He don’t even know, man, swear to God.” He paused and grabbed Avery by the hair, lifting his head up so he could see his face. “You know, man, right? I go hard, huh? You evuh been rammed this hard?”
“No, never. It’s too much!” Avery said, laughing even as he climaxed. His torso twisting, lungs heaving for air, covered up the sound of his laughter, so Joey interpreted it as genuine agreement with his boasts.
“See! Ha! I bet he never got no one sayin’ that,” Joey said with a groan. “He make love, ya know, he don’t cornhole punks. He ain’t hardcore like me, swear to God.”
Avery’s orgasm continued. He gasped, covered in sweat. Joey would have cum already — Avery could sense it in his throbbing cock and his balls rising up in their sac — but he was still angry and more focused on that than his own pleasure, so he just kept pounding numbly while Avery shot his own wad onto the sauna floor.
It was the smell of Avery’s cum that sparked Joey to realize what he was doing. Joey took a deep breath. He licked his lips and grunted. He opened his mouth to speak, but all of the pleasure and climactic bliss that had been building up in him while he was distracted erupted at once. Joey moaned.
When he moaned, his open mouth landed on Avery’s cheek. It was close enough to a kiss for Avery, who melted into Joey’s powerful arms. Hot cum sprayed into Avery’s tight ass, while Avery lazily licked Joey’s neck and muscular shoulders.
Joey shot a huge load, thick and creamy, hot, seeping into Avery’s flesh. Avery shuddered as he felt it flow within him. Joey’s cock throbbed and spasmed inside Avery’s ass, making Avery squirm beneath Joey’s massive muscles.
“Hell yeah…” Joey said with a grunt, cum flowing like a river into Avery’s body. Then he jerked up his spit and licked his lips. ” Yeah. Fuckin’ yeah. I fuck girls in the ass all the time. I tells ‘em, y’know, when we first hook up, you best give up the booty. I don’t mess wit’ weak-sauce girls who don’t do anal, y’know, I ain’t no pussy, swear to God. I mean, I fuck pussy, I ain’t too good fo’ some pussy. But sometimes a real man need ass, ya dig?” Even as he was still cumming the last few drops of semen, he was already boasting and talking again. Now his deep, throaty voice was right next to Avery’s ears, making Avery moan, his own orgasm continuing as long as Joey’s dick teased his prostate.
But finally that came to an end as well. Joey backed up and sighed, visibly relieved like he had thought he might not be able to do that. He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Alright. Good. Fuck you, pansy,” he said. He chuckled to himself. “Yo, I’m a real paesano, ya know.” He grabbed Avery’s pants, pulled his wallet out and took the twenty-dollar Avery out of it. “I’m chargin’ you an extra twenty bucks cuz I rammed you so good. I ain’t mean to ram you that good.” He sniffled. “Not that I need the money. Ain’t ‘bout that.”
Avery couldn’t respond because his body flooded with endorphins now that his ass was empty. He laid limply on the floor. He didn’t mind losing the extra twenty dollars anyway. He smiled.
Joey tucked his cock away. He flexed his biceps at himself in the mirror. “Yeah. Good, that was cool. Fuck yeah. If anyone ever ask, boy, I swear to God, you had best say you owed me money. You.” He looked at Avery. “Well, whatever. Nobody gonna ask. If we run into each other at the gym again, you pretend you don’t know me.” He paused. “Unless I’m alone. You can, y’know, make another offer if you want. I don’t need the money. But, y’know, maybe I do it, just to pass the time or whatever.” He frowned. He walked to the door, then paused before he walked out. “But you gotta offer me money, man. I won’t do it for the money, but I won’t do it wit’out it either.”
“Okay, yeah, no problem,” Avery said.
“Good.” He paused again. “I mean… Even if I’m wit’ someone, you can offer. Make me an offer. I’ll prolly say fuck no. But hang around and I’ll find you after. Ain’t ‘bout the money. You can suck my swagger, bitch.”
“I know, okay. I can’t wait.”
“I know. You ain’t gotta tell me, bitch,” he said as he slammed the door shut.