MN Manmacker's mansploitation
Desmond cuts hair in his barbershop, and he often gives his studlier customers a “happy ending”… But when one encounter with a wannabe rapper leads to a hit song name-checking Desmond’s oral skills, this downlow arrangement becomes more out in the open than Desmond expected! That leads to a series of man-on-man encounters with some of the toughest and handsomest alpha male thugs, ex-cons, jocks and even strippers around!
Rob lets a studly young alpha sleep on his couch, as long as Rob gets to swing on his big black meat. Can Rob handle his tenant’s huge throbbing rent payment?
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Rob Winthrop wanted to let Lamar sleep in, but it was tough to resist touching him. Lamar’s eighteen-year-old body gleamed, sprawled out on the couch he barely fit on. It was a big couch, but Lamar was tall, with limbs like catapaults. He was sound asleep. He hadn’t even been home that long, Lamar only returned from his friend’s party a few hours before sunrise.
He wore only boxers, and the sheet he had covered himself with had fallen onto the floor. Rob could catch a few tantalizing glimpses of his dick through the fly, through which a couple stray pubic hairs were visible.
Rob gently tweaked Lamar’s nipple to see if he would wake up. But he didn’t. He was passed-out cold. He pulled Lamar’s soft dick out from within the boxers he had passed out in. Even limp as cooked spaghetti, it was almost a foot long and meaty, even heavier than it looked. Rob thwacked it against his palm.
Still, Lamar didn’t wake up.
Lamar was just eighteen years old. He had come to Rob last month to say that he heard Rob paid money to jack off black guys with big dicks, in hopes of it making Rob’s dick bigger. Rob had explained that that wasn’t exactly true. Rob did appreciate men with superb physiques, but he was not especially into black men and did not believe doing it would make his own dick bigger. But Lamar didn’t believe him. He kept referring to Rob as a lover of big black cock.
Regardless, Rob had given him money then so he could get a tattoo.
That was the words THUG LIFE tattooed on Lamar’s bicep, in short block letters that ran all the way around his arm. While Lamar remained unconscious, Rob slurped some of his drunk-night-sweat off that tattooed bicep. Fully erect, his dick was more than a foot long and so thick Rob couldn’t circle his fingers around the whole shaft. As Lamar stayed unconscious, Rob grew bolder about groping his muscular body.
Then Lamar finally stirred and smiled like a cocky bastard after Rob rammed his fingers into Lamar’s pants and started stroking. His cock was sweaty and soft — spongy-soft, like he had fucked until he couldn’t anymore. That was probably exactly what happened at that party Lamar went to.
“Pretty big, huh?” Lamar asked with a groggy groan and chuckle. Now that he was awoke, his dick twitched in Rob’s grasp.
“Yeah.”
“You like this nigga dick, huh? Well you don’t get to swallow it, not for a li’l tat,” Lamar said. He kept telling Rob that over and over as Rob jacked him off — even though Rob hadn’t tried to put it in his mouth. “You want it so bad, I can tell. You got nigga-lover written on yo’ forehead, honky. You feel me? Huh? You feel my meat throbbin’ in yo’ fingers. That’s happenin’ fo’ you. That’s my present to you, man. Ain’t no way you get to swallow it though, nuh-uh.”
Then he gasped and shot his load in his pants. It coated Rob’s hand and trickled down his wrist. He wanted to lick it off, but Lamar stopped him.
“Nah. Go wipe yo’ hand, whiteman,” he said. He licked his lips and moaned. “I ain’t lettin’ you taste my nut. That’s nasty. Girls only.” He stood there and watched, thick trunk-like cockshaft swaying between his legs, as Rob looked forlornly at the tasty cum all over his hand but wiped it off with a paper towel. Lamar left then, climbing into some white girl’s car just seconds after tucking his dick back into his pants.
Rob had watched his ass through the shorts that were visible above his sagging jeans. Rob wanted more than anything to taste his dick and feel it inside him, but Lamar had said no. That was before he showed up on Rob’s doorstep a few days ago. He said he was running from the po-po, though he later also mentioned a fight with his stepdad. “You can swing on my dick,” Lamar said with a crude sneer. “But I ain’t touchin’ you. No way.”
“Okay,” Rob said with a shrug. He knew he could get something more when Lamar was drunk enough.
Now he wondered if it was time to get a taste of Lamar’s cock. He had let Lamar move in and sleep here for two days, and all Rob had gotten out of it was the sight of Lamar’s tight body and a few handjobs.
Anyway, Lamar went out clubbing with that white girl or maybe different white girls, then came home at dawn once more. Rob had already given Lamar money, enough that he could easily buy himself beer and pay the cover charge to get into some bar. Lamar had used up all the money though, paying for not just his beer but also his friends’s and of course fruity cocktails for girls with juicy asses.
When Lamar had returned to the house early yet again, with the sun peeking over the horizon, he had staggered in drunkenly. He’d plopped onto the couch and slept awhile before getting up to vomit. Then he managed to brush his teeth and drink a glass of water before returning to the couch.
And now here was Rob yet again, trying to stimulate his unconscious couchsurfing roommate to erection. He’d said it was fine if Lamar went out partying every night, but he didn’t think Lamar would actually find a party “fulla mad bitches” every single night.
At least tonight, Lamar’s cock had slipped out from the fly of his boxers, which made it easy for Rob to stroke it. It was like a dead snake in his hand, a long tube of dark muscle that was firm even in its soft state. Rob licked his lips as he flopped it between his fingers.
Lamar was still passed out cold. When it was clear he wouldn’t wake up, Rob bent over and licked Lamar’s cock from the root to the tip, which he then put in his mouth. He again looked up. Lamar didn’t awake, but he did move his head to the side.
That gave Rob an idea. He got his own dick out. His heart pounding, Rob put it on Lamar’s lips. Rob’s cocktip throbbed on Lamar’s mouth.
His handsome brown face was still calm and asleep, and the coarse hairs of his unshaved cheeks and chin rubbed against Rob’s shaft. Lamar wrinkled his nose in his sleep. Rob flopped his rapidly firming dick around on Lamar’s face, and he attempted at Lamar’s mouth but didn’t force it in, lest the sensation wake him up.
Lamar stirred. He moaned and wiggled his ass, but he didn’t wake up the rest of the way. He murmured and grumbled. Rob sensed him waking and took his dick away, just before Lamar let out a little gag.
Holding his breath, Rob waited to see if Lamar realized why he had gagged. He was definitely waking up now. But Lamar must have figured it was lingering drunkenness.
Rob leaned in and inhaled deeply of Lamar’s musk. He inserted his nose the best he could between Lamar’s tricep and his chest, and he sniffed the musk of his armpit. It was an intoxicating, heady aroma that made Rob moan.
He licked the tight muscle of Lamar’s pecs. They were not huge — he was no bodybuilder — but they were like taut balls of rock-hard flesh beneath soft skin, brimming with power and body heat. Rob lapped at the soft flesh, which rippled beneath his touch.
“Aw, damn, baby…” Lamar murmured. His eyes gradually blinked open. He kept wiggling, and his breathing hurried up as Rob caressed his shaft.
His dick twitched beneath Rob’s fingers. Rob gave it a stroke, and it started to get hard.
“Oh. Oh, damn,” Lamar murmured. He had obviously forgotten where he was and thought it was a woman on his dick until he opened his eyes fully. Now he was full of nervous gasps and sucking in his breath. He swayed as though the couch under him moved, too dizzy from drunken surprise to react. “Ew, nasty, man, shit…”
Rob’s tongue traveled down Lamar’s taut stomach. Now that he was awake, Lamar giggled like he was ticklish but trying to hide it the entire time Rob licked at his flesh. His muscles writhed beneath Rob’s tongue. Letting out a moist gurgling sound, Lamar wrapped his fingers around Rob’s head and pushed him towards Lamar’s crotch, but then Lamar let go — feeling Rob’s short haircut reminded Lamar he wasn’t with a girl. He covered his face with one forearm, while his other hand gently guided Rob to his crotch.
After a night of drinking, Lamar’s body was covered with a sheen of dried sweat. That was perfect for Rob, who loved the taste of his flesh. It was clean, slightly soapy, yet salty from sweat and tasting just a bit of cocoa butter.
“Yo, you gunna ssshwalluh my nut?” Lamar’s voice was weak, though he tried to sound tough. He was too nervous to stop laughing though, and he could only cover that up by flexing his muscles and growling intermittently. He couldn’t stop writhing to the sensation of Rob’s tongue traveling over his body.
“Yes,” Rob said. “I am.” He kissed the tip of Lamar’s dick, which throbbed and twitched like it was begging him to swallow it. “Tell me about last night. Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” Lamar said. His forearm was still over his eyes so he didn’t accidentally see who was on his cock. A drunken burp escaped from his mouth, and he scrunched his eyes shut even though his gaze was blocked by his forearm. Now that he was fully awake and had taken a deep breath, his throbbing erection helped bring him down from the drunken dizzies, and he could speak clearly if he concentrated on his words and not the throbbing of his cock in Rob’s mouth. “It was cool. My nigga got this bitch to give up the booty, man. We ran a train on her in the bathroom of the club. Nasty-ass bitch.”
“Oh? You fucked her there in the bathroom?” Rob pulled off Lamar’s dick just long enough to ask his question, and then he thwacked Lamar’s erection all over his face like a billyclub.
Lamar nodded like a cocky bastard and ran his tongue between his lips and his teeth. “Yeah. She was on her knees on that piss-stained floor, like a fuckin’ slut. I had sloppy seconds — or like sloppy fifths, I think, fifths in her pussy anyway — and it was all drippin’ out. Made me gag and shit.”
“Why’d you do it?” Rob asked as his tongue slathered spit over Lamar’s ribs while his hand flopped Lamar’s cock around. He part lost his erction every time Rob let it go for a few seconds, which Rob enjoyed because he liked playing with a half-hard cock. Lamar was desperately horny, that much was obvious from the way he gasped every few seconds as he talked, and his hips kept bucking like he was fucking the air. Rob stroked his dick, which was just meaty enough to feel solid as Rob thwacked it against Lamar’s flesh and his own face.
“What?”
“Why’d you do it if you had to take sloppy-fifths?”
There was a long silence. “That a trick question? It was pussy, man. She gave it up,” he said.
“Oh, I thought it sounded gross.”
“It was gross.”
“I guess I just don’t get it,” Rob asked. He spat loudly, covering Lamar’s dick with his saliva, which made Lamar groan. Rob licked all that spit up. “Did you joust with your buddies?”
“Joust? Oh, you mean, like touch dicks in her mouth and shit? Yeah, me and my nigga Killer always do that shit. He was the fourth, you know, he was the one who shot his load right before me-” He paused. “Wait, I gotta do somethin’.” He reached down for the pants he had thrown down onto the ground. He pulled out his cell phone.
“Is something wrong?”
“I gotta tell Killer somethin’, you can keep strokin’ my dick. You gonna swallow my nut or what?” He said as he dialed.
“I just like to play with it first. It’s so big,” Rob said smiling at how Lamar proudly bristled and arched his back. Rob stuck out his tongue and licked Lamar’s dick from root to tip, very slowly, slathering spit the entire way.
That made Lamar moan uncontrollably, and his cock rocketed to full erection. Killer, on the other side of the line, laughed — he must have heard the moan as soon as he answered the phone. Rob couldn’t hear Killer’s words though, just his laughter.
“Thought you should know my dick is like three shades lighter,” Lamar said. He chuckled at Killer. “Yeah, yo’ nut stained my shit, Killer! I know it was yo’s — nah, you know that nigga ain’t got — oh — Fuck dat shit, nigga!” Lamar went on, laughing and carrying on, but he and Killer talked over each other so much that Rob couldn’t follow the conversation. He gathered that Lamar and Killer had made an inside joke last night, something to do with all the cum sticking to Lamar’s cock after he had sloppy fifths and staining it until it was a lighter shade.
Rob kept on stroking it though. He wanted Lamar desperate to blow his nut.
“Yeah, nigga. Okay. Peace, one love,” Lamar said and hung up the phone. He glared at Rob and tried to sit up, but Rob chose that moment to put the tip of his cock in Rob’s mouth. He suckled on the piss-slit and slathered a huge wad of saliva that dripped down the shaft. A wave of pleasure hit Lamar, who moaned and leaned back, laying down again on the couch, the same position he had been asleep in just a few minutes ago. “Yo, honky, you just playin’ wit’ it. I’m lettin’ you swing on that shit, you best handle it proper. Don’t you blueball me.”
“I’d never do that,” Rob said. “You want me to swallow it now?”
Every fiber of Lamar’s being told him to say yes. He writhed on the couch, cock throbbing in Rob’s hand. But still, Lamar didn’t. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“If you want, I ain’t into that nasty-nasty, and I got females all over,” Lamar said, even as he gasped and writhed beneath Rob’s touch. “I, uh… I mean… I’m just doin’ this for a couch to crash on. If’n you okay wit’ just swallowin’ a nut, I ain’t tryin’-a, y’know, do nothin’ wit’ you, I ain’t swallowin’ nothin’.”
“I would never make you swallow anything,” Rob said. He kept stroking Lamar’s shaft, but he kept his rhythm slow and inconsistent so Lamar’s body cried out for a warm, wet mouth.
Lamar murmured. “You best pay me,” he said. He laughed at himself, and at Rob, as he covered his face with a pillow to avoid seeing Rob’s masculine features.
“You want money?” Rob said. “How about I let you borrow my car? Is that okay?” Rob could afford plenty of money, but he had a feeling admitting that to Lamar would end up poorly for him. So he was pretending to be poorer than he was.
“Borrow your car, like anytime?”
“As long as you live here,” Rob said. “And let me keep playing with your dick.”
“Fine, fine,” Lamar said. “Okay. Just get me off…” His voice was muffled because of the pillow over his face.
Rob put the tip back in his mouth again, and he suckled on it loudly. Lamar moaned and his back arched. He nearly leapt off the couch. Then Rob removed his mouth and giggled. “You want me to swallow or spit?”
“Swallow, swallow, man, come on, just do it,” Lamar said, his attempt to show reluctance now forgotten. He roared in frustration and bit the pillow in front of his face. His youthful muscles cringed, and his dick reached up into the air, searching instinctively for a hole to penetrate. “C’mon, man, I gotta blow my load-“
Rob mounted Lamar the best he could as he laid on the couch, so that Rob’s dick and Lamar’s met. Lamar looked away and groaned, while Rob began frotting both cocks together.
“Let’s cum together,” Rob said.
A loud sucking sound came from Lamar’s mouth. He’d jousted with his niggas before in a bitch’s mouth, but he’d never frotted before. He looked at his massive cock rubbing against Rob’s, which was smaller but not small enough that Lamar could really make fun of him for it. Lamar looked away. “C’mon, man, nah, nah-” He grunted.
“Your dick is so big…” Rob said with a smile.
“I know but — I know but — I-” Lamar didn’t want to ruin a good thing by refusing or hitting Rob, though his hand formed a fist like he might do it out of instinct. Really Lamar wouldn’t have minded frotting — it was gross, but for a place to sleep, he could live with it — as long as he could guarantee Rob wouldn’t cum on his face or go any farther than this. And Lamar wished he could sober up and eat something first.
“Sorry, sorry, can’t help it…” Rob said, his voice warbling and breaking, as he shot his load. Pleasure wracked Rob’s body, and a jet of jizz spurted out. It plopped onto Lamar’s dick and into his crotch hair, but then Rob aimed it up to his six-pack and beyond.
Lamar groaned in disgust, and cum sprayed over his powerful brown chest. It made his tattoos gleam as his muscles flexed. Pleasure shuddered through Rob’s body, making him shimmy and shake, and his cock pulsated where it rubbed on Lamar’s own dick.
“I won’t cum on your face,” Rob said, but even as he said that Rob leaned back and moaned again, and his last spray of cum got as far as Lamar’s chin.
“Ew, man, shit…” Lamar let out a nervous chuckle as he wiped his chin off. He faced away from Rob, so he didn’t get more cum on his face and didn’t have to watch his cock frot with Rob’s. “You gonna swallow my load, right?”
Rob did so without another word. He jammed his own head into Lamar’s crotch, swallowing as much of that massive shaft as he could get in his throat. Rob gagged and choked, but kept going until he had nearly every inch. He tasted Lamar’s machismo in the precum trickling down his throat, its salty flavor and creamy thickness overwhelming his senses.
“Aaaaaaaaah….” Lamar moaned like he was finally scratching an itch he had been trying to reach for a long time.
Then Lamar grabbed Rob’s head to plow down on his throat. Rob loved that, and Lamar normally did too, but as soon as he did, Lamar knew it was a bad idea. That’s because Rob had very short hair, and when Lamar touched it, he was reminded of the man on his dick.
Lamar groaned with disappointment. His dick didn’t get any softer, but it did slow down. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, since Rob thought he could still take this farther. But for now, Rob thought, Lamar was disappointed that Rob wasn’t a girl.
“Damn, man, I can’t forget you ain’t a bitch,” Lamar said. “Hang on, lemme call this fat chick.” He dialed another number on his phone. “Yo. Hey, baby. Nah, I can’t tonight. I got, uh, y’know, a meetin’ to go to.” The plump girl on the other end was Miranda, and Lamar made sure to emphasize meeting in a way that suggested it was some sort of gang activity. Miranda was a rotund white girl who loved bad boys, so she giggled at the thought of Lamar at a gang meeting. Her voice made Lamar grunt, and another few drops of precum coated Rob’s tongue. Lamar removed the pillow from his face.
Rob moved down to slurp on Lamar’s balls. He put them both in his mouth and gargled loudly, making Lamar laugh into the phone even as he talked to his booty call.
“I know it’s early, baby. I just wanted to hear yo’ voice. I been, y’know, I been in trouble and shit,” Lamar said. His voice kept trailing off, distracted by the feelings of pleasure arising from his sensitive balls in Rob’s mouth. Lamar’s voice cracked. “Yeah, baby. I’m in jail. Uh-huh. I be out soon. My lawyer is comin’ to bail me out. Uh-huh. Can you talk me off? I’m jackin’ it right now.” He paused and laughed. “Yeah, there’s some whiteboy here cryin’. I think he okay, he just glad I ain’t gonna beat his ass.” He paused and affected a charming smile. “Yeah, I’s talkin’ ’bout you, whiteboy. If there wasn’t a phone in here, I’d be beatin’ you to shreds just to pass the time.”
As Lamar talked, showing off to his female friend, Rob continued slurping on his balls. Then he moved back up to the shaft. His tongue traced the pulsating veins all the way from root to tip.
“Yeah, you gonna give up the booty, right? Maybe I skip that meeting tonight, after I get bailed out. Maybe I come over. Uh-huh. You gonna let me tap that ass, right? No condom. Uh-huh. I wanna taste yo’ titties, girl,” he said. He groaned. “Maybe I titty-fuck you for a bit. You know I love thick-ass bitches and I am — no, wait! Baby! Baby!” He screamed into the phone, which he then threw onto the ground. “Fuck you! Fuckin’ hell!” He roared and slapped his own thighs. His dick throbbed in Rob’s mouth. “Fuck!”
Rob pulled off his dick. “What happened?”
“I called her a thick-ass bitch,” Lamar said. “I sorta forgot she was white and she gonna take that as an insult. Ain’t no insult!”
“Oh, that’s too bad, baby…” Rob thwacked Lamar’s erection against his face.
“She ain’t even listen to me explain. I was in jail, y’know, I prolly heard all kind of bad words. I just forgot to moderate myself, y’know,” he said. He groaned as he started to grind his hips, shoving his dick back into Rob’s mouth.
Rob pulled away, gently stroking Lamar’s dick even as Lamar flexed his hips, trying to get his knob wet again. Rob said, “You’re not in jail.”
“Yeah, but she thought I was!” Lamar said. He squirmed, his body overly energetic from both horniness and anger. “Ain’t fair. You can’t hang up on a nigga who call you from jail, just cuz he use some bad words. It’s fuckin’ jail!”
“Sure, sure,” Rob said. He licked Lamar’s dick from root to tip. Once again, Lamar grabbed his head and tried to force it back into position to swallow his whole shaft. Rob resisted. Lamar didn’t even seem to be aware of the fact that he was trying to force his dick into Rob’s mouth, he just kept talking about how angry he was at the girl and his cock and his hands worked on autopilot.
Rob enjoyed teasing him. Every few seconds, he’d let Lamar ram his dick down his throat. Lamar would moan and let go of Rob’s head. Then Rob would pull off and Lamar would swear some more before doing it again.
“That fuckin’ bitch, she don’t know jack shit! She think she my girlfriend, she think I just fuck other females cuz my niggas expect it. That’s what I tell her. She dumb as shit. She dumb as her own fat ass.”
“Are you gonna go back to her and apologize?”
Lamar thought for a moment. “Yeah. I prolly will. Not fo’ awhile. Give it a month or two, and I’ll go over there in the night, tell her I been in lockup and I need a woman’s touch. I be back in her asshole right quick, I tell you that!” His anger was gone now. He laid back and let Rob lick his cockshaft.
“Speaking of assholes…” Rob said.
“You want me to stick you?”
Rob nodded.
He sighed dramatically, and recovered his face with his forearm. “You gotta buy me somethin’. There’s a gold chain wit’ a platinum crucifix on it. Got rubies and some shit. Fair-trade mined in Kenya,” he said. “You gotta buy me that.” He paused. “And Netflix, man. Why ain’t you got Netflix?”
Rob laughed. “I just don’t watch a lot of TV. I’ll get Netflix, I’ll buy you that chain, no problem.”
“You ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me, is you?”
“I swear,” Rob said. “You gotta do something else for me too though.”
“What’s that? I ain’t touchin’ yo’ dick, whiteman. Don’t even try and ask me fo’ a reacharound.” He groaned and slapped his dick over Rob’s face.
“No, not that. Call my dad.”
“What?”
“Call my dad and tell him what’s going on,” Rob said. He explained about how much he hated his father and how he loved humiliating him.
Lamar looked dubious at first, but then he smiled. He and his friends often made fun of this crackhead named Greenbelly, and Lamar did a spot-on impression of him. He was so excited to use that impression that he wasn’t even nervous as Rob’s ass slid onto his cock.
It was only as he dialed that Lamar realized he could feel Rob’s short ass-hairs on his dick. With wide eyes, Lamar watched Rob slide up and down. The feeling was disgusting — faint, but still, Lamar could feel it too strongly to pretend he was with a woman. He turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to see it.
“Hello?”
“Yo, you got a son who a real bitch? I got my dick in his ass, and he keep squirmin’. What’s up wit’ dat, honky? Huh? I’m tryin’-a smoke some crack while I dip my dick in ‘im, and he don’t sit still.”
Rob was distracted by the pain and pleasure in his ass, but he still laughed. Lamar’s crackhead-impression was great, with a frantic, clipped tone like he was really angry Rob was interfering with his crack-smoking. Rob’s father didn’t say anything on the other line, but his scoffing and his annoyed breathing were audible.
“Huh? You gonna make him sit still? Gonna burn yo’ boy wit’ dis crack pipe. He pay me eight dollar, honky, and I tells him dat, fo’ eight dollar, you get my dick and you get my hepatitises and you get my Lucy on yo’ back — I calls my crack pipe Lucy — she say I gotta smoke her e’ry day. What? What do you call yo’ crack pipe? Oh, you don’t name it? It ain’t gonna know it’s special if you don’t-” Lamar paused. “Oh, he hung up.”
“You’re really good at that,” Rob said as his prostate exploded with pressure and intense pleasure. Lamar’s cock throbbed in his ass.
“Yeah, that’s my Greenbelly impression. He this crackhead I know back in the projects, always sellin’ wifebeaters and shit,” he said. He snorted and sat up. Rob was sitting on Lamar’s crotch, so Lamar had to struggle to rearrange himself. “Gonna blow a nut in ya. Then I gotta take yo’ car and go visit my parole officer. You buy Netflix and make sure you got a credit card you can charge two grand on. When I get back, we goin’ to the mall so you can buy me that chain.”
“Okay,” Rob said, wincing as he moved with Lamar’s thirteen-inch cock inside him.
Lamar swayed as he got up on his feet — he hadn’t stood since last night — but he regained his balance quickly. He took a deep breath and slammed his dick in and out hard.
It was an intensely awkward position. Lamar alternated between trying to pretend he was a hardcore thug who knew how to treat a man like a prison bitch, and pretending he was so utterly macho he was disgusted by what he was doing. In reality, the truth was in between — he wasn’t disgusted, really, just awkward and glad his friends weren’t here to see.
Lamar forcefully pushed Rob’s face to the floor, while he lifted Rob’s hips. It was an awkward position for Rob, who took Lamar’s dick with such force he had trouble keeping his feet on the ground, meaning a large portion of his weight was supported by his own head.
Now that he was in position, Lamar drilled his cock in deep. He bellowed and pounded on his chest while he used all his weight to slam his dick in deeply. He chuckled and looked around as though waiting for his niggas to laugh with him, but of course they weren’t here.
Then he grabbed Rob’s hips and gyrated his crotch. He slammed his dick in a few times before he realized he was touching Rob’s mannish body. He let go and pounded freestyle for a couple seconds.
“Damn…” He grabbed Rob’s hips again to steady him, but then dropped him again. Every time Lamar felt Rob’s male body-hair, it reminded him he wasn’t with a woman, so he let go.
He felt like that slowed him down, like every time it happened he got farther from his orgasm. But that wasn’t really true. Lamar was too young for much of anything to slow him down — it just slowed down his mind.
So he was still thinking that he had to struggle to cum when an orgasm hit him suddenly. He grunted and yelped, embarrassed at his own animated reaction — he had thought he’d barely be able to do it at all, but he actually shot one of the biggest loads of his life.
His tight young muscles all flexed at once, and he groaned. Rob moaned in harmony with him, which made Lamar nervous because he could hear the masculine twinge to Rob’s voice. Pleasure ran up Lamar’s spine, so intense it made Lamar shudder and shake.
A torrent of cum flooded Rob’s ass. It came in thick waves, great gobs of cum flowing into him. Lamar groaned as he spewed more and more, laughing at himself and at Rob — was this a normal amount? He thought he might just be surprised because he was with a man, and it wasn’t really a normal sensation for him.
The cum just kept on coming, and it filled up Rob’s hole. It dripped out the sides of his ass, coating Lamar’s cock and dripping in gobs onto the floor.
Just when Lamar thought he was done, Rob shuddered. That caused a couple things to happen all at once. First, an intense orgasmic aftershock hit Lamar. Second, the motion made a great clump of cum plop out and into Lamar’s hairy crotch. Third, the sight of that happening made Lamar gag. So all at once, Lamar both experienced a second mini-climax and was overcome with such physical disgust that he retched.
And all that combined to make him laugh. Lamar always laughed at things that made him uncomfortable. He gingerly removed his rapidly limpening cock, and the sight of it covered in pearly white cum made him gag again.
“Yo, I gotta get a picture fo’ Killer,” Lamar said, his discomfort totally gone now. He grabbed his phone and snapped a photo of his cock, which was white with the semen that still soaked into it. He sent the photo to Killer with the caption, ‘this is what I looked like after sloppy-fifths. That’s yo’ nasty all over my dick, nigga’.
He stood up and ignored Rob, who laid there with his ass in the air, exulting in his own post-orgasmic pleasure. Lamar wandered off towards the bathroom, watching his gigantic dick throb and shake as it limpened.
“Gonna take a shower, honky,” Lamar said. “Don’t forget to buy Netflix.”
“Okay,” Rob said, his voice weak and breathless.
Lamar sauntered into the shower, already dialing his parole officer to make excuses for being late. He wasn’t late yet, but Lamar assumed he probably would be.
Besides, he thought as he stepped into the shower, there was a black slut who lived near the parole office. He could stop by and see her beforehand, get his dick wet in a real pussy and probably smoke a blunt. She usually had weed.
‘Oh, that reminds me! I should’ve asked for that!’ Lamar poked his head out the bathroom door, just before he stepped in the shower. “Yo, honky, leave some money on the counter for me. Like eighty bucks. I wanna buy some weed too.”
“Okay!” Rob said. He smiled as he put the cash out for Lamar and fired up his long-canceled Netflix account.
Abelino is a Brazilian gigolo… or is he?! When his latest conquest wants to see him with another man, Abelino is bound to satisfy her needs, even if that means swinging on the downlow with a twink bartender who can’t believe his luck! Can Abelino please his woman… and his man?!
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Abelino was Brazilian, but he had moved away when he was very young, and his only memories of Brazil came from infrequent visits to see his grandparents. He only spoke Portuguese because he had taken classes, and his accent was atrocious. But he was of Brazilian descent, and few Americans had any idea that his Portuguese was poor.
“You are, eh, uh… the gostosa,” Abelino said to the woman at the bar. Her name was Lucinda, and she frowned at him at first. She didn’t like it when random men approached her in bars.
But Abelino was different. He was Brazilian, with a thick accent — she didn’t know the accent was not real — and he had dark skin, dark hair that fell in waves and tresses around his handsome face. He looked kind, his sparkling green eyes betraying his lover’s soul, and his broad muscles radiated the coziness of a comforting campfire. He had smooth hands with a firm grip that made Lucinda lick her lips and giggle when he touched her wrist.
And with that, Abelino knew she was seduced.
That was what Abelino did. He worked for the Rockhard Country Club. Officially speaking, he was a “Recreation Manager”. But he had been hired to seduce women. Rockhard had many women as members, and they required services that only a handsome stud like Abelino could provide.
His boss had made him the offer when he noticed Abelino stalking around the club — working as a dishwasher in the kitchen at the time — and going through women like the world was running out of them. Abelino did well then, on his own, even though a lot of the country club’s female members, who had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to join, refused to have anything to do with “the help”.
Abelino seduced the women who were willing, and those women never cancelled their memberships. So Abelino was given a promotion to Recreation Manager. That made him seem less like “the help” and more like a genuine prospect for the wealthy women who filled up the club. Since then, Abelino had been bouncing around among women, going to bed with a different one nearly every night. He kept them more than satisfied, and they re-upped their membership every year.
So when his latest female companion, Lucinda, asked about his friendship with the bartender at the club, Teddy, Abelino responded like a Brazilian (or like he thought a Brazilian would answer). He said he retained his machismo so long as he was on top. That was true. It wasn’t the whole story, but it was true.
Really, Abelino let Teddy jerk him off because Teddy liked it and gave him free drinks. After making love to seemingly all the older women of Springfield, Abelino found his head and his dick to be completely separate from each other. He had no need to be attracted to Teddy to get hard for him, and Teddy even swallowed his cum.
Anyway, he didn’t tell Lucinda that part. Or any of it, she had deduced it because she got to chatting with Teddy, and he told her only that his machismo demanded he act the man. It had become clear that she liked the machismo — her husband was a weak-kneed wastling, in her words — so he made up a story about his childhood in a favela, and she ate it up with a spoon.
She smiled at him and batted her eyes. She blushed a little, just like she had when she told Abelino she really wanted to sit on his face — not just a little bit, she wanted to ram her pussy on his face, like men in pornos did to women, throatfucking them, she had wanted to do that to Abelino. He had been happy to oblige and his tongue had explored every inch of her tender womanhood.
Now she blushed again. “So you would do that? You’d jack off with a man?”
“Of course,” he said like it was no big deal. “A real man can do it anytime.” Most women liked him as smooth and clean-cut as possible, but he knew how to switch gears and come across as a rough-edged macho when he needed to.
He leaned in to kiss her, and she allowed it though he sensed resistance — not because she disliked the kiss, but because it was not the thing she was looking for right now. He made it a quick kiss. Then he looked into her eyes trying to get what she wanted — was it something kinky? She looked like she might be into BDSM, but Abelino couldn’t decide if she was a dom or a sub. After some women had refused to listen to his safewords, Abelino did not agree to be a sub anymore. While Lucinda was confident and powerful, Abelino sometimes knew it was precisely that sort of women who most wanted to be submissive during sex. But he didn’t get that impression either. She had always been dominant in their past lovemaking.
“So… is that something you do a lot?” Lucinda asked. She blushed again, harder, but when she made eye contact with Abedino again, an involuntary giggle shimmied up her spine. She swallowed it up though, licking her lips. Then she raised her eyebrows in Teddy’s direction, as he filled drink orders at the bar.
Abelino cleared his throat as though nervous about answering. “That is… in my culture, it’s okay for a man to be on top, but a man must not brag about it with women. It is too crude-” It was only just now occurring to him that she brought this up not out of some fascination with foreign cultures and their mores, but because she was going to ask him to do it so she could watch.
Had Abelino gone too far? She was into this. He now wished he had said right off the bat he would never do that. Now she was going to want to push his boundaries. He didn’t want to disappoint Lucinda, not to mention his boss. He would be humiliated to admit there was a woman he couldn’t satisfy.
And he wasn’t lying. He knew from his father and, especially, his ex-con uncle that Brazilian men had no compunctions about jacking off with each other. His father and uncle saw that as a shameful part of Brazilian culture. They would say that Abelino should act like an American, not a Brazilian. They left Brazil to get away from the people acted Brazilian.
But that wasn’t Abelino’s view.
“So you have done it? I’m not some delicate flower that might wilt if you handle me roughly,” she said. She licked her teeth, avoid smuding her lipstick. Then she lowered her voice and leaned in close to Abelino. “Come on, it’s hot. Have you ever sutkc it to a man? Lemme hear it.” She owned a private security company, so she was used to operating in a male-dominated world. She enjoyed getting them to talk about subjects they wouldn’t normally discuss in front of women.
Abelino cleared his throat. “I have, y’know… I have been around the block, as they say. If a man wants a swing…-.”
She nodded. An elderly couple stood at the bar nearby to get drinks, and for a moment, conversation stopped. The old people would be able to hear, so neither Lucinda nor Abelino said anything. Abelino sipped at his own drink, while Lucinda re-fixed her lipstick. When the old people finally received their drinks and went back to the lounge, Lucinda looked at Abelino with big wide eyes.
“So is it like, seriously common in Brazil or what? Like if I just hooked up with some random Brazilian guy and told him I thought it was hot if he ‘cornholed’ a dude, what would be my chances of him agreeing to do it?” She put ‘cornholed’ in quotes and snickered about it. It seemed like such a silly word when she said it.
Abelino hoped he looked confident. He was about to say “yes”, that a random Brazilian man was likely to agree to cornhole another man if she wanted him to — but then Abelino got worried that she’d actually try it and end up getting killed if Abelino was mistaken. So Abelino shook his head.
“He would probably say no. Most men would do so only when they are very young, or in prison or in the Army,” he said in the thickest faux-Brazilian accent he could muster. “And they would not admit it to a foreigner.” That sounded realistic, he thought, and hopefully it would make her drop the idea clearly forming in her brain of getting Abelino to cornhole Teddy.
Lucinda sighed and nodded. “I guess that makes sense. Still, I think it’s hot. There’s, like, virtually no American men who would do that.” She paused. She glanced up at Teddy. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t think so,” Abelino said. He was already getting the gist of where this conversation was going to go next. Did he want to stop it? Abelino was not supposed to take money from the women he seduced. He worked for Rockhard Country Club, and management didn’t want him getting paid from both ends. Abelino did get meals, clothes and other gifts though. He decided he could get paid by Lucinda because she would be too ashamed to ever tell anyone.
He was sure she was going to offer a substantial amount of money, Abelino was sure of that; she had that “rich bitch who can pay for whatever she wants” look on her face. It was just a matter of time. When she asked what time the bar closed, it was clear she was waiting for Teddy to be available. That gave Abelino an hour or so to gather up the nerve. He needed to look confident, he thought.
Finally, just a few minutes before the bar closed, Lucinda motioned for Teddy, who approached, jealous that the casanova Abelino had been with her all night. Teddy sometimes got to touch Abelino’s chest when there were no women around.
“So, Teddy,” she said with a forced, fake smile. “I wanted to make an offer. Do you think he’s handsome?” She pointed to Abelino.
“Well, of course, yes, ma’am,” Teddy said.
“I want to watch him… and you.”
“I see… You’re watching us both now.”
“No, I mean, I want to watch you.” She raised her eyebrows. She glanced over at Abelino. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to cornhole him so I can watch.” She glanced back at Teddy. “That’s for both of you, you split that.”
“Abelino?” Teddy asked as casually as he could muster, but he was already locking up the cash register. Abelino’s eyes opened wide and he stammered.
“Aaaaah…” Abelino sucked on his lip. Teddy leered at him, blushing. Teddy knew that Abelino was not from Brazil — he was from Yonkers — but Teddy wasn’t going to admit that. Abelino grunted and nodded. He smiled as though this was no big deal.
‘It’s not a big deal’, he reminded himself.
The bar was almost empty and the waitresses could finish up with the last few customers, Teddy thought, hurrying to lock up the register. He quickly got through the last of his duties, then followed Lucinda and Abelino out of the country club main building and to the cabanas by the pool.
There was one cabana labeled “The Nap Room”. Its apparent intended purpose, of course, was for people to take a nap during the day. It did get some activity of that sort. Old men playing golf sometimes wanted to lay down before doing anything else.
But everyone knew that the Nap Room’s main purpose was sex. That was where Abelino made love to most of the women he seduced, and there were some female staff that brought men here as well.
It was a plain room, warm and humid like all cabanas, with reed mats lining the walls and clean towels everywhere. It smelled vaguely of flowers from the air fresheners that crowded each outlet — the staff were always concerned about the smell in here. They didn’t want it to smell like a brothel. Neither did Abelino, but he also didn’t like the cabana being overstuffed with air fresheners. That wasn’t classy either.
But it was comfortable regardless. The bed was nicer than in the other cabanas, and the sheets were luxurious. It was always warm in here. Abelino liked it that way.
“Do Brazilian men kiss?” Lucinda asked as she sat down on a chair that faced the bed. She had a strict, stentorian tone to her voice. “Each other, I mean.”
Abelino gulped and nodded. He could tell that Lucinda loved his hesitance — she seemed to get off on it, and she seemed ready to start fingering herself when she motioned for Abelino and Teddy to kiss. That was not something Abelino had a habit of doing, so he hesitated. Then he closed his eyes and winced as he planted his lips on Teddy’s.
Teddy kissed him right back, plunging his tongue into Abelino’s mouth. Teddy was so much shorter than him that they struggled to kiss standing there in front of her. After a few seconds, however, they ended up on the bed. Lucinda made them rotate to do it at a different angle so she could see as they made out.
Teddy ran his fingers through Abelino’s thick mane of black hair. It was luxurious and perfect. Teddy had never been with someone with such perfect hair. After his first few seconds of awkwardness, Abelino’s inhibitions melted away — he found that kissing Teddy was a lot like kissing a woman. Some of the women he was with weren’t even very feminine, so Teddy didn’t seem like such a stretch. At least he was young and taut, and none of his body parts sagged.
Teddy’s hands roamed over Abelino’s body, and Abelino found himself getting more and more excited. This might not be that bad, he thought, and he’d both make money and no doubt have Lucinda put in a good word about him with the country club’s management. She would never admit why she appreciated him, of course, but she would surely tell them he satisfied her.
Wanting to put on a good show for Lucinda, Abelino tongue-kissed Teddy back. At first it was awkward just like before — but worse since there was an audience — but once he got into it, Abelino found he didn’t notice so much that Teddy was not a woman. He’d been pretending to be a macho Brazilian for so long it felt good to pass as one yet again, in a whole new way.
“You are so beautiful-” He tried to aim his seductive patter at Lucinda, but she motioned to Teddy.
“Talk to him,” she said. She fingered herself as Abelino murmured sweetly into Teddy’s ear.
“I will make sweet love to you, my darling,” Abelino said, having to suppress a laugh when he saw Teddy smile. “I will make your body feel so sweetly.” His accent was thick and luxuriant, and more than a little difficult to understand. He kissed Teddy again. “You will taste my tropical fire, darling…” Abelino spoke like that when seducing women, but Teddy found it impossible to take seriously, and he struggled not to laugh at Abelino’s serious mien.
In the steamy heat of the Nap Room cabana, both Teddy and Abelino were overcome by passion strong enough to forget about the woman in the room. To Teddy, that was normal and desirable. Abelino could only keep going when he lost himself in his feelings and sensation, so he didn’t think about what he was doing. All that mattered was the pleasure sparking up from deep within him and wracking his powerful frame.
When Teddy felt the throbbing firmness of Abelino’s erection through both men’s clothes, he knew it was time to move on. Lucinda was watching intently, her face flush — she might have been closer to orgasming than either of the men, as she was fingering herself beneath her light dress.
Teddy couldn’t help but laugh at the looks on both Abelino’s and Lucinda’s faces. She was serious as a tornado, and her whole body writhed as she fingered herself hard. Abelino varied between his “seductive gigolo” look and an involuntary “desperate rough trade” mien. Teddy found both of them very arousing, and he bit back his laugh to avoid turning either Abelino or Lucinda off, but it soon became apparent neither paid any attenion to him. Lucinda had eyes only for Abelino, and Abelino was concerned only with Teddy’s ass. He was trying to avoid listening to Teddy’s voice.
Lucinda let out a little moan from watching the two of them get in position, her pussy growing wetter and wetter as Abelino’s tongue explored Teddy’s ear. Abelino sucked on his earlobe, which he knew drove women crazy. Teddy giggled like a girl, in a way he kind of always wanted to be. He wished he could be seduced by men like Abelino every day.
But once Teddy felt Abelino’s cock slip into the crack of his ass, his giggles went away. “Oh, Abelino!” He spread his cheeks and backed himself up onto Abelino’s dick. There was an intense pressure at first as he accepted every inch of his hot uncut meat, and then Teddy’s ass opened, and he slid down and a shudder of bliss wracked up and down his body.
“Ah, yes… Let me inside you, my darling, my sweet…” Abelino didn’t want to look foolish in front of Lucinda, so he exuded confidence as much as he could. He was so focused on his demeanor that he was surprised when his cock fit in easily and sent a jolt of pleasure through him.
Teddy had a tight, smooth hole and Abelino moaned, faking it at first for Lucinda’s benefit. Then it turned real and the tenor shifted. Abelino’s cock pushed in a little deeper, then deeper still until at last he was entirely in Teddy’s ass. It squeezed and pulsated around his manhood.
He was not expecting it to feel this good. Teddy’s ass was tighter than Lucinda’s pussy had ever been, and something about the way Teddy wriggled beneath him made pleasure course intensely through Abelino’s veins.
The sound of Lucinda fingering herself faded from Abelino’s mind, though her breathing grew more rapid and more jagged as she went on. He was focused singularly on making love to Teddy’s behind, overwhelmed by the tsunami of sensations that poured through his veins. He rammed his dick in, not forcefully or aggressively, but firmly, grinding it every inch of the way so as to stimulate all of Teddy’s nerves.
“Oh god…” Teddy moaned as he stroked himself off. After his initial awkwardness, Teddy thought, Abelino learned quickly and now rammed into him like he knew what he was doing.
Abelino first tried to modulate his plowing so as to best appeal to Lucinda, but he soon lost control of his passion — and deduced that that was what Lucinda most got off on anyway — that seemed to be what she wanted, to see Abelino’s Brazilian machismo take over — and went at it as hard as he could. None of his women ever really wanted that until now, so it was nice to pound away at Teddy’s ass as hard as he could, Teddy begging for more every step of the way.
It felt better than it had any right to. Perhaps the awkwardness of it accentuated the pleasure, Abelino thought, because once he got into the swing of ramming back and forth, hitting Teddy’s prostate hard, it felt so good he let out a spine-tingling howl of desire. It started off as genuine, then turned into a softly romantic moan to appeal to Lucinda, then became genuine again, as sensations the likes of which Abelino hadn’t felt in a long time moved him. He felt like a young man again, losing his virginity to an older woman and feeling the victorious pump of power that came with it.
And Teddy was so easy! No need to seduce a woman! Teddy wanted to be seduced! Abelino’s voice broke as he moaned, writhing, his whole body undulating and ramming his cock back and forth in Teddy’s ass. Teddy cried out for more, and his hands turned into claws that dug at the soft bedspread of the Nap Room.
“Ah, shit, yeah, man…” Abelino’s voice turned tight as he orgasmed deep in Teddy’s ass. He coughed, mid-climax, when he realized his words were unaccented — Lucinda hadn’t noticed, so he just bit his lip to avoid talking as he came. It was hard to get rid of that Yonkers accent mid-orgasm.
His seed flowed into Teddy, coating his insides and seeping into him. He shot a huge load, matched by Teddy himself, who shot his wad all over the mattress of the Nap-Room cabana. A hot and creamy spurt of jizz coated Teddy’s inside, as he writhed in the throes of exquisite ecstasy. Teddy cried out, and he would have done so again, louder and louder, but Abelino kissed him once more.
Was that kiss motivated by passion? By lust? By the need to quiet Teddy down lest anybody walking past the cabana realize what was going on in here. Even Abelino himself was unsure. All three of those motivations roiled within, as he pumped his powerful thighs to jet jizz after jizz up Teddy’s ass.
It kept going, all three of them orgasming now — Lucinda barely showed hers because she was too prim and proper, but Teddy cried out in a muffled voice while Abelino’s smooth baritone echoed in the tiny cabana. Lucinda’s careful neckline was beaded with sweat, and her coiffed hair had gone limp and moist.
“Oh god, yes!” Teddy’s voice warbled and brokeonce more. He had rarely gotten it this good, and he was breathless as the last pangs of his orgasm wracked his body. He was definitely going to recommend that Abelino be kept on staff and even given a raise. Management gave Teddy’s opinion considerable weight, because he knew the staff, the clients and the secrets of both. Abelino’s muscles tensed and rippled where they pressed against Teddy’s back, as both men let the last of their cum dribble out. Teddy gasped. Abelino sighed.
At last, Abelino was done. His dick throbbed in Teddy’s ass. Both of them were motionless for a moment, as Abelino tried to wipe the sweat off his face only to smear it around. The Nap Room was going to need a good cleaning, he thought, those air fresheners were gonna need to go heavy-duty. He chuckled as he pulled out and took a deep breath. He was glad he had gotten through that without embarrassing himself. His chest was sweaty, his hair tangled and ruffled. He tried to affect a macho face, though he wasn’t sure Lucinda paid much attention. She had had a loud orgasm, hadn’t she? Abelino hadn’t really been paying attention, he lost track of Lucinda. He still needed to get the money out of her though. It was hard to think until his cock finally slid limply out of Teddy’s both, and both men erupted in a synchronous sigh.
“Well, how was that?” Abelino said, chest muscles rippling when he felt Teddy’s tongue exploring his body. He sighed and allowed it, letting Teddy lick all the sweat off his shoulders and his biceps. Teddy had been trying to lick his chest since they met, and he finally got to do it now, his hands roaming over Abelino’s powerful muscles, his throbbing cock and his thick thighs.
Lucinda was sweaty and sprawled out, a faint smile remaining on her face. She stood on uneven legs. “That,” she said, “was worth every penny.” She handed over the thousand dollars. “You two should work together. You’d make bank.”
“I’m in!” Teddy blurted, clutching Abelino’s naked torso close. “I am so definitely in.”
Rob is hiring another handyman, this time to fix his air conditioner. When he ends up with the hunky Bellamy Harshfield and his studly grandfather Lyle, Rob knew which one he liked best… Rob likes his meat finely aged, so before he knows it, he’s on his knees servicing every inch of Lyle’s body. Can Bellamy handle his handsomeness being rejected for his grandfather’s alpha-male manhood?!
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Rob took a nervous step back, his heart pounding. The two repairmen came into his house, and he felt a few tinges of sweat on his brow. His plan was working as intended. After accidentally getting the wrong repairmen a couple times, he had been worried it would happen again. But these two were Bellamy and Lyle Harshfield, exactly whom he had been hoping for.
They talked — and Rob responded a bit without paying much attention — about the air conditioner. It wasn’t working. It was sweltering in here, and Rob was glad to see them. But he was glad, not just because the air conditioner should start working soon, but also because they were both hot.
The younger one was Bellamy Harshfield, and he was a gorgeous dreamboat: blond, dimpled, smooth-cheeked, no doubt apple-bottomed and with a cock to match. He was nineteen, just barely, and he had all the vim and vigor befitting a man of that age. He was sprightly, ropy muscled like an old sailor, like he retained all the power of a younger man but had it condensed into these compact limbs that still had room for a little padding.
But Rob had no interest in young studs like Bellamy. Bellamy probably had a legion of pretty girls chasing him around with their tits flopping about. Rob wasn’t interested in men like him, women could have them.
He liked the older one, Lyle, who was not just a bit older — he was Bellamy’s step-grandfather. He was gloriously imperfect in his dad-bod, which brimmed with muscle and power even if he wasn’t carved out of alabaster like Bellamy. His body crammed more muscle into a smaller frame, giving him a dense and meaty look. Lyle was shorter, hairier, with fuzz sticking out from under his dingy old tee shirt, extending up to his shoulders. He was balding, and he was thick-bodied — so was Bellamy, but Lyle had more of a squarish shape, like he had gotten so big for so long his body no longer knew what to do with the muscle he had grown. His hair was dirty-blond too, just like Bellamy’s, but now grayish and thin unlike Bellamy’s dense shock of action-hero hair.
They went to the air conditioner just outside the house, and Rob hung around inside, positioning himself so he could see them. Lyle attracted all of his attention. He bent over to inspect the air conditioner, showing Bellamy what he saw and explaining how to fix it.
“Hold this!” Lyle said with a snarl — Bellamy had failed to pay close enough attention, and now Lyle was in a bad mood. “You damn fool boy, quit messin’ around.”
“Sorry, Gramps,” Bellamy said with a sigh. He took his cell phone out and peered at it, trying to look like he still paid attention to Lyle even while he texted a girl.
“This here is the intake valve. Most of the time when they go kaput like this, without a smoke or a smell — or a — hey, boy, you put that motherfuckin’ game boy down and pay attention-“
“It ain’t a Game Boy, Gramps. No one’s played Game Boys for like twenty years-“
“That was what ya Pa used to play-“
“Yeah, I know, Gramps. It’s cool. I know how to tighten a valve,” Bellamy said with a scoff. He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Oh?” He handed the wrench to Bellamy, who took it hesitantly. He hefted the wrench in one hand. Then Lyle ran his own fingers through his hair, just like his step-grandson had moments before. Lyle’s hair was thinner though, like his forehead was mugging his scalp very slowly, and he ran his fingers through the threadbare patch as though he was used to having more hair than he actually had.
Bellamy approached the air conditioner. He tried to attach the wrench, but Lyle rolled his eyes and sighed. Bellamy fumbled with it until Lyle bent over to help again.
“There,” Lyle said. “You best pay attention, son. I am teachin’ you a trade. You know when I was growin’ up, this was the only way to learn a skill. Men fought over the chance to learn this kinda shit.”
“That’s cuz no one had invented books yet, Gramps!” Bellamy said, chuckling. “You had to ask your local lord for permission to learn how to read-“
“Oh, hush your face,” Lyle said. He tightened the valve himself. “You know, if you would ever apply your goddamn fool self you could maybe learn a little something, make a life for yourself-“
“Gramps, come on, I’ve got a life for myself. I’ve got like two thousand instagram followers who are into my sick abs,” Bellamy said. He lifted up his shirt to show off his perfect six-pack. He ran his fingers up the ridges of muscle there. “See?”
“Used to be only girls worried about their bellies.”
“In the olden days! I don’t wanna be fat! It’s bad for you, Gramps!”
“You been hanging out with that foolish girl with green hair-“
“She’s my girlfriend, Gramps, her name is Meredith and I love her-“
“Then put a ring on it!”
“Give me a ring!” Bellamy said. He threw his hands in the air.
Lyle scoffed and waved his grandson away. He returned to fixing the air conditioner. His hairy arms flexed, gleaming with sweat, biceps bulging. Bellamy resumed playing with his phone, ignoring his grandfather who continued to fix the air conditioner. Still inside the house, Rob watched Lyle’s plump granddad-ass sway in his overly baggy jeans — it looked like he had gotten frustrated trying to find jeans that fit according to the style of his youth and had ended up with these preposterously baggy jeans that made him look like he beat up a rapper to steal his clothes.
“You don’t know jack-shit about girls nowadays, Gramps. That’s why you never get any pussy-“
“I get plenty of pussy!” Lyle shouted. He grunted. He glanced towards the house and saw Rob. “You’re gonna get a complaint, son. Shut that facehole.”
“You’re the one shouting about pussy.”
“You gonna offend the homeowner-!”
“That homeowner is a sensitive sort, Gramps, he’d scream in terror at the sight of a pussy,” Bellamy said with a laugh. “He’d prolly like you.”
“Nah. Nancy-boys like clean, long-haired guys with pretty faces and doe eyes. He’d probably cotton to you. Maybe you could dump that green-haired communist you been with and hook up wit’ him. At least he got a house,” Lyle said.
“She’s not a communist, she’s a socialist.”
“Ain’t that the same thing?”
“No,” Bellamy said. His voice was unsure though, and it sounded like he could not have explained the difference. “They’re… She has beliefs that are… Just shut up, Gramps.”
“You put a ring on that yet?”
“You know I can’t afford one, I will, I’m savin’ up for it,” Bellamy said. “I’ll have enough by the end of the year.”
“Hey,” Rob said. He came to the door, and they both turned to look at him. He smiled at them both in turn.
“Ya air conditioner should be fixed soon, suh,” Lyle said. He looked down and mumbled a little, like he had never really gotten used to speaking to men so respectfully. “Sorry ‘bout the salty language. My grandson here is a-” He paused, seemingly unable to think of a non-obscene word to use. Finally, he came up with “dumbass”.
Rob smiled. “Don’t worry. It takes a lot more than that to offend me,” he said. “I happened to hear that you needed an engagement ring for your girlfriend?”
Bellamy blushed. “I mean… I ain’t, y’know, sure we gonna get married, or whatever, I mean, you know, I was just sayin’, like, I’m thinkin’ ‘bout — I love her, for real, for sure, man, and she ain’t no communist. I just, I think, I ain’t sure, I wanna like, I mean, I know-“
“Okay, shut up, son, that communist pussy has turned your tongue into a retard,” Lyle said. “You shouldn’t eat so goddamn much —pussy ” He glanced back at Rob again. “Sorry… I mean, vagina…” It sounded like he had possibly never said the word vagina out loud before.
Rob waved that off and took out his phone. “How much do I owe you for the air conditioner?”
“Eighty bucks.”
He activated the PayUp to pay the bill. “Would you two like to earn an extra thousand dollars? You could buy a nice engagement ring for that.”
“Shit, yeah,” Bellamy said.
“Whatevuh you need, suh,” Lyle said.
“Well… I admire a man with a marvelous physique,” Rob said. “So I was wondering, for a thousand dollars-“
“Ha! He want a taste of ya meat, boy!” Lyle said. “You gonna do the prison-tango!” He grabbed for Bellamy’s crotch, but Bellamy blushed and smacked his hand away.
“Gramps, let go!” Bellamy’s mouth was agape.
“You gonna earn that engagement ring the hard way, boy!”
Rob cleared his throat. “I don’t think communists do engagement rings. It’s too bourgeoisie.”
“She’s not communist!”
Rob smiled and squeezed Bellamy’s biceps. “You’re adorable, and I bet your little Maoist girlfriend loves your body-“
“I don’t know what that means, but she’s not a Maoist either.”
“I’m not interested in you though,” Rob said. He turned to Lyle, whose balding head gleamed. His tee-shirt was soaked with sweat even though he hadn’t done much work yet and it wasn’t even too hot outside. Lyle looked at him like he was confused. Rob came closer. “I like my meat finely aged.”
Lyle furrowed his brow.
“You like me?”
Rob nodded. He placed a hand on the waist of Lyle’s jeans. “I like you a lot. So how about you let me take a taste, and I give you a thousand dollars, and if your would-be granddaughter-in-law deserves it, you buy her that engagement ring. Or if not, you can buy her a beet with which she can make borscht,” Rob said. He smacked his lips. “It’s a win-win.”
They were both shocked. Bellamy was so handsome girls threw themselves at him. He’d fucked his math teacher, he nearly banged his way into college, but he ended up going to business with his stupid dad instead. On several occasions, old men had offered him money on the street to give them his undershirt or jockstrap. Bellamy had done some modeling for a local hot tub store.
So Bellamy thought he should be the one Rob paid. It was ridiculous that Rob liked his grandfather. It didn’t quite compute in Bellamy’s mind, and he kept thinking it was a prank. He watched as Rob sunk to his knees in front of Lyle. Lyle was balding, with just a perimeter of faded hair around his head, scalp gleaming with sweat.
Though he tried to hide it, Lyle was just as surprised as Bellamy. If he had known he was the object of Rob’s desire, Lyle would have never responded like he did. He only wanted to embarrass his cocky grandson and make him earn that thousand dollars so he would hurry up and get married. Lyle didn’t know that it was him whom Rob preferred.
“Ah, damn…” Lyle tried to look confident. When he was growing up, things were different. Stuff happened in the YMCA shower. That’s where it all went down back then.
But only really tough guys went around ramrodding freaks in the YMCA shower. Lyle never did. He always thought he could if he got real horny, but he never got over his hangups about it. What if somebody tried to ramrod Lyle? What if he got another man’s cum on his hand? All those things seemed very important back in the 1970s, when Lyle and his fellow factory workers had crowded cock-in-crack into overstuffed showers, teasing each other about who got hard and who had a tiny dick.
Rob popped Lyle’s dick in his mouth. It tasted like old-guy-cock, Rob thought, like old-fashioned unscented bar soap. There was a faintly bitter taste to it and a mark that ran along the shaft — a small scar. It was big and his balls were so heavy and low-hanging that Rob couldn’t help but pop them both in his mouth. His sac was hairy and wrinkled and tasted so good Rob let out a little moan.
“Ah, damn, Gramps, he’s slurpin’ on ya balls, that’s nasty,” Bellamy said. He laughed, and his laughter slowly grew due to his anxiety, until he was red-faced and giggling like a schoolgirl. “He’s eatin’ ya fromunda juice. Oh shit!”
His balls were sour and strongly flavored, with a potent enough flavor to bring tears to Bellamy’s eyes. Rob lazily stroked Lyle’s cock with his other hand, while he savored the flavor of his worksweat-soaked sac, his tongue snaking to tease out every drop of manly juices. Lyle’s shaft was still soft, just barely starting to perk up in rob’s grip. Neither Rob nor Lyle were in any particular hurry.
When Lyle took his shirt off, his dick now totally hard and throbbing in Rob’s mouth, his grandson did the same — a part of Bellamy still didn’t quite understand why Rob would pick Gramps instead of him. He thought maybe Rob just needed to see his perfect six-pack and tapered torso.
Why are you trying to talk him into it? Just be glad he picked Gramps. Bellamy would have felt compelled to agree if Rob had chosen him. There was nothing he couldn’t do with his dick. He brought girls to orgasm in no time. Black girls! Those black girls would never go for Gramps.
Well, the one who was a whore would. But, you know, Gramps wouldn’t make her cum like Bellamy did.
It would have been humiliating to say no to Rob, which was why Bellamy was glad, though indignant, that he wasn’t chosen.
Resuming deep-throating Lyle’s cock, Rob forced that entire rod down his gullet until his nose was nestled in Lyle’s pubic hair. He didn’t trim his pubes, unlike most men these days. Rob appreciated that. Lyle didn’t even know he was old-fashioned for letting his pubic bush grow free. Rob reached up to tweak Lyle’s nipples, making his powerful pecs ripple. Lyle was smaller than his massive grandson, of course, his skin a little shriveled, like a muscular raisin. But those marks and imperfections were precisely what Rob thought was sexy.
He had no interest in a smooth, perfect chest, he liked the meaty realness of Lyle’s body. He was brimming with power, body heat emanating off him, and his body was perfectly padded, giving him just enough flesh for Rob to play with as he handled Lyle’s meat.
When Rob pulled off his dick, he croaked, mouth full of precum, “You taste so good… Hit me with your cock, daddy.” He kept his mouth open and his tongue out. Lyle looked at him like he didn’t want to do it, but he gamely smacked Rob’s tongue and cheeks with his cock.
After doing it a few times, Lyle bristled and puffed up his chest. He couldn’t help but feel good — he had long ago been dumped by a girl because he asked her if he could mollywop her — that was what he called it when you smacked someone in the face with your dick — and she had said yes, then got offended that he did it (she thought it was just another word for a blowjob). Lyle thought it would be hot for her, so he had been offended that she was upset by his cock. It turned into a huge fight that ended the relationship. Seemed silly now.
So Lyle liked doing it now, smacking Rob and watching him chase his cock with his mouth. Then finally Rob got it back on his tongue, slathering spit all up and down the shaft. Lyle leaned his head back and moaned.
Bellamy had backed way up by then. He couldn’t believe he was watching this, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Am I really gonna watch my grandfather bust a nut? He was technically a step-grandfather, no blood relation. But Bellamy still couldn’t bring himself to look away.
Gramps has got a veiny cock. I bet my cock is smoother. Bellamy wanted to ask whether smoother was better, but he wasn’t going to admit he had looked at his grandfather’s dick.
“Hmm… Ram me, please! I need to feel your dick inside me!” Rob hadn’t planned on asking for Lyle to wreck his ass — he didn’t think Lyle would do it with his grandson right there. But he glanced up into Lyle’s sun- and wind-weathered face and saw desire there. He could tell Lyle wanted something more intense.
Sure enough, Lyle was glad to ram him. He snarled like it was a big imposition though. He realized only as Rob bent over with his ass in the air that he should have asked for more money. But now that he had wedged his dick into Rob’s tight ass, there was no way he could get paid for it, now that it was obvious he’d do it for free.
“Fine, boy, I’ll get inside ya-” He turned to Bellamy, who gasped and closed his eyes. “Come closer.” He slapped Bellamy’s cheek. “That’s for actin’ like a right prude, son. Just cuz you ain’t done time don’t mean you gotta act like a nun.”
“Man, Gramps… Was you a booty bandit in prison?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lyle said. He had never rammed a man in prison, not if you define ‘ram’ in a certain way. He did give a reacharound or two, which ain’t a proper ramming by prison rules. At least prison rules as of back in the day, back when things was proper. He was glad to look tough in front of his grandson, who was so muscular and thick that Lyle sometimes felt inadequate. When he first saw Bellamy getting big and athletic, years ago, he thought he couldn’t wait for the day his grandson was stronger than he was. But now it just made him feel old, and feeling that way made him feel like a selfish, shitty grandfather.
A shock of pleasure shot up Lyle’s spine, reminding him that he was here to ram and make money, not show off to his grandson. He liked that Rob writhed beneath him, submitting to his power like he liked it. Rob grunted and moaned, orgasmic bliss flowing through his veins.
The best part of getting rammed by a huge cock, Rob thought, was how awkward and technically bad it was — Lyle tried to avoid touching Rob more than necessary, and he avoided looking at his own cock too much as it slid into Rob’s ass. That made it a difficult process, with awkward angles and moist grunts in Rob’s ear. It also made it last longer. Rob’s orgasm dragged on as Lyle rammed him hard, stimulating his prostate hard and shooting his wad deeply into Rob’s tight ass.
Bellamy winced and stepped away, still unable to close his eyes or turn his head as he watched both men orgasm. His grandfather bucked and slammed into Rob, both of them going to the floor, where Rob squirmed beneath Lyle’s body. Exquisite sensations wracked Lyle’s muscles and Rob’s more delicate frame.
It felt better than Rob was expecting. Lyle’s fat dick expertly slammed into his prostate, sending pangs of pleasure to erupt throughout his body. Rob cried out, and Lyle chuckled, the motion of which made his dick piston like a battering ram into Rob’s ass. Each thrust sent another wave of jizz to fill him up.
“Ah, goddamn, boy…” Lyle’s voice was gravelly and tense, resonant in Rob’s ear. Some drops of spit landed on Rob’s earlobe. “Shit…”
“Uh, I- I… uh…” Rob was unable to talk as cum flowed into him. Lyle buckled, grinding his dick in Rob. Warm, creamy cum coated Rob’s insides, a bigger load filling him up than he thought possible from such an old man.
“Shit!” Lyle said once more. He grabbed Rob’s hair, intending to pull off him but keep a grip on his hair until he paid up. Then an aftershock of his orgasm roiled him, and Lyle just found himself plowing Rob again, ramming his limpening dick in and out. That made a big frothy mess as cum dripped out and all over the floor.
Unable to breathe due to how good this felt, Lyle closed his eyes, keeping a tight grip on Rob’s hair. His dick softened in Rob’s ass, while Rob whimpered and gasped for air. The pressure in his body was intense.
“Oh god!” Rob screamed. A final few drops of jizz hit his prostate, and a tsunami of bliss wracked his body. That was when Rob at last reached his own orgasm. His hand furiously whacked at his own meat, and his moan turned into a low-melting groan as his knees went weak. He was supported entirely in Lyle’s powerful arms.
A jet of cum spurted onto the floor in front of Rob. It felt like Lyle had already been cumming for hours, and Rob experienced every moment of that as though it was his own. But now his own orgasm flooded his veins like melted butter, and his sensitive dick throbbed in his grip.
That lasted only until Lyle wrapped one arm around Rob and kissed him on the cheek. He stroked him off silently, right there in front of his grandson, who shielded his eyes and blushed and chuckled and groaned and complained and shrugged all at once. But Lyle got both hands on Rob’s dick to pull him through the last of his orgasm, and he didn’t need to say that this was a secret, that he didn’t want his grandson to know he was giving a reacharound, that the reason he said he didn’t ramrod a man in prison was that at the time it didn’t count if you gave a reacharound, so the reason he did it now was to show his respect and appreciation for the ecstasy Rob had given him.
At last, Lyle pulled out and sighed. He smacked one of Rob’s cheeks. He looked to his grandson. “See, boy? That’s how a real man does it.”
“Shut up, Gramps… That’s how an old man does it.”
Lyle glared at Rob. “You gonna pay up?” His dick glistened and shone with all the fluids dripping off it. Lyle hefted it in one hand and smirked at his grandson, who was back to holding his face in his hands and groaning like a sad mummy. Lyle winked at Rob, who blushed and nodded.
“Of course,” Rob said. He took his phone out and started tapping, as he got the payment details from Bellamy — Lyle didn’t have PayUp, of course, he considered all smartphones to be namby-pamby bullshit. He was right, but Rob still had one, and he paid it to Bellamy to pass on to his grandfather.. “I’ll put finely-aged meat in the memo field,” Rob said as he tapped his way through the signature screen. “Let me know if you’ve got poker buddies or whatever. I can set up a gloryhole for the night. They gotta be your age though.”
“Oh that’s nasty,” Bellamy said. His cheeks burned red as though it was him that was embarrassed about it. He sneered at Rob. “You’re nasty.”
“Shut up, boy, you’re just jealous,” Lyle said. His face was ruddy, beads of sweat collecting on the worry-wrinkles beneath his eyes. He finally wiped his dick off with Bellamy’s shirt, which lay on the floor still. Bellamy didn’t notice his grandfather cleaning santorum off his shaft with his shirt, which made Lyle chuckle and put out a mischievious smile.
Rob smiled. “No, he’s right. It is nasty, but that’s why I like it,” he said. “Thanks for fixing the air conditioner, and good luck with your communist marriage.”
“Socialist! She assured me there’s a difference.”
Galeno is a gigolo who makes love to women for money, but he just might be willing to service Teddy too… Can Teddy convince him to cross the thin lavender line?
Read it soon as an ebook!
Read the whole thing here!
Teddy placed a plate of chicken on the bar in front of the couple, who nodded at him but didn’t pay much attention. The woman didn’t look at him because she was focused on her man, Galeno. Galeno didn’t look at Teddy because he was a man on a mission. Teddy might as well have been invisible.
Galeno used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. He popped it in her mouth and she squealed. Galeno smiled, showing off those dimples to die for.
Arousal filled the air, virtually radiating off the couple and making the whole bar feel like a bordello. Teddy found it difficult to look away because Galeno was so handsome.
Teddy worked in the Rockhard Country Club and he’d become increasingly certain that Galeno was a gigolo. The place was chock-full of women, more than most country clubs, and Galeno was usually with one.
He wasn’t with the same one every night though. He cycled between them. He could, of course, have simply been a player, maybe he got laid a lot. Teddy was jealous of those ladies. That didn’t mean Galeno was a gigolo. But it was the only thing that really made sense to Teddy.
Galeno never got “caught”. After more than a year of constant womanizing out of the same country club, that seemed unlikely. Surely at some point, a woman he had been with previously would come in to the country club she was a member of. She’d see Galeno with another woman. Teddy was pretty sure that had happened at least once, when he saw a woman coming in whom he’d seen with Galena a few weeks prior. But the woman had just shrugged at the sight of Galeno with a different woman.
So him being a gigolo made sense, that would explain it too.
Of course they could have just broken up, maybe that was why she didn’t get upset. That was another reasonable explanation. Teddy couldn’t quite be sure. It simply violated everything he thought he knew about sexual interaction to assume Galeno could serially date every woman in this place and not spark any kind of jealous encounter or public breakup.
He didn’t want to look like he was spying on them, so Teddy didn’t stick around at the bar. Galeno and his current woman were eating their chicken very slowly and would not likely order anything else. He poured a couple wines for one of the waitresses, then went to the walk-in to get more limes.
There was a woman there crying. She had scurried behind the wall separating the corridor from the bar and restaurant, so nobody could see her until they came up close. She had her face in her arm, buried against the wall. A loud choked sob came from her lips.
“Uh… Miss?” Teddy came closer.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She wiped her tears away. “I just… I don’t feel quite like myself.”
“You don’t need to apologize. If you want, you can sit in the pantry right there, that’s even more alone than this hall. You can sit in the walk-in too, but that’s pretty cold. You might not like it there,” Teddy said. “I love your necklace, by the way.” It was just a glittery piece of gold, nothing special, but Teddy thought she needed a pick-me-up.
“Thanks.” She sniffled.
“Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”
“Not unless you can turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats,” she said with a sniffle.
Teddy shrugged. “I’ve never tried to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats. Lemme try.” He closed his eyes and pulled on his ears like he was a silly kids’ magician doing a trick. “Abracadabra!” He paused. “Did it work? Ah… no, I still don’t wanna be a stepdad.” He frowned at her. “Sorry. The answer is no, I don’t have the ability to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be a stepfather to three ungrateful brats.”
She laughed through her tears. “Thanks for trying. I guess I should have mentioned you’d have to be willing to marry me too.”
“You’re just full of rules.”
“I’d even be willing to forget about the stepfather-thing. I just want a man to take me seriously… I got stood up by this man as soon as he saw me and I told him I had three kids. We got along great online, we chatted for hours… And then he just snuck out on our first date. He said he had to go to the bathroom, and he disappeared.”
“Oh… That’s terrible… Look on the bright side: He could have been kidnapped by yakuza.”
A smile flickered over her face. “You’re silly. I’m Carla, and I-“
They were interrupted by an angry shout from the bar. Teddy turned to look and saw Galeno watching as a woman stormed away. She had thrown her drink in his face. Galeno shrugged. He wiped his face off, then finished his chicken.
“Excuse me, Carla,” Teddy said. He hurried back to the bar to clean up the liquor that had spilled.
Galeno nodded at him. “Good evening,” he said in that cloying Brazilian accent. “Sorry about the mess, senhor.” He had long curly black hair that extended well past his shoulders, and dusky brown skin. His accent fit him like the tailored suit he also wore. His dimples mesmerized like a swaying cobra. The sight of those compelling brown eyes made Teddy’s knees weak, and the feel of his hot breath glancingly condensing on Teddy’s arm made him want to swoon into Galeno’s powerful arms.
“Uh, so…” Teddy glanced back at the corridor beyond which he saw Betty’s shadow. Teddy cleared his throat. “You’re really into girls, right?”
Galeno scoffed.
“Do you… accept money from them?”
Galeno nodded. “That is why she left from here. She paid for one day, and she got it, for absolutely. I told her she must do payment for more time or I would leave,” he said with a sigh. His accent stuck in Teddy’s ears and made him crave more. Galeno’s soft skin beckoned. His English was good, not perfect, but perfectly wrong. Galeno made a kissy face and said, “She believed I did fallen into love with her.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I did. I fall into love with all women, no matter their size or age or shape. They have such beautiful flavors, and each one is a papaya of infinite sweetness. I could consume their tender womanhoods for hours, each one different but each one the same, and-” Galeno saw Teddy’s expression and fell flat. “Yes, I like women. But they must pay. I give them very much good love, it is worth it.”
“So you’d… be with a woman whose kind of thick and maybe needs someone else to do her makeup for her?” Teddy asked. Galeno nodded. Teddy continued, “Well… I’ve got a client for you. What do you charge?”
“For a whole day? I would ask-“
“A day? What am I, a vicarious nymphomaniac?”
“O que você quer dizer?”
“Nevermind, no, not a whole day. Just… an hour.”
He shrugged. “Four hundred dollars.”
“I can do that,” Teddy said. He took it out of his tips for the day. It was most of his tips so far today, but he could handle that. The Rockhard Country Club paid pretty good, and Teddy made tips on top of that.
Teddy went back to Carla, who was preparing to leave. He smiled at her. “I found you a man.”
“What? How?!”
“Well… Don’t get attached, he’s a gigolo,” Teddy said. “But I paid for him to satisfy you for an hour.” Teddy gestured to Galeno, who was getting up from the bar. His handsome face was framed by his magnificent mane.
Carla blushed and her knees went weak. She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, uh… He’s… He’s… a… Oh… I…”
Galeno came closer and took Betty’s hand in his. She blushed. Galeno leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Isso não significa nada.”
She swooned into his arms, and wrapped her hands around his well-muscled chest. Galeno’s hand roamed up and down her back as he led her away. Her breasts heaved, and Teddy could sense that her heart quickened. A few beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She erupted in a salad of giggles, while Galeno smiled at whatever she said.
They went to the disabled bathroom near the locker rooms. Teddy went back to the bar, a little disappointed that he didn’t even get to watch or anything. The bar was pretty quiet today. Nothing much to do. He sighed.
He went back to the disabled bathroom and put his head to the door. He couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of Carla orgasming. You could tell she was having her pussy eaten, Teddy thought. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could tell, that was a cunnilingus orgasm. He pictured Galeno’s broad brown back muscles writhing as he lapped at her womanhood.
Teddy wanted him bad. As a great admirer of the male physique, Teddy thought Galeno was ideal, his perfectly sculpted body suitable to model for Adonis or Heracles. He was so handsome Teddy thought it’d be weird, he didn’t have any frame of reference for how it felt to walk around with a face like that.
Perhaps he would let Teddy explore his body one day. Usually men only did that when they were horny and couldn’t nab a woman though, and it seemed unlikely that that would ever be a problem for a man like Galeno.
In any case, Teddy had other goals. He was trying to get this nineteen year-old caddy Noah who worked at the club and had a delightfully perfect body. He was much more reasonable. He had as much as said he would let a man jack him off for an X-Box. Teddy just needed to get him alone sometime, and he needed to buy an X-Box so he could make the deal whenever the time was right.
That nineteen year-old didn’t work today though. Teddy would have to wait for next week. Noah might have had a girlfriend now too, which would probably put the kibosh on Teddy’s efforts.
Noah vanished from his mind moments later though, when he saw Carla stumbling out of that disabled bathroom, positively aglow with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hair was a mess — it had been a mess before, but now it looked like birds had built a nest in it. She was dazed, and she didn’t even notice Teddy. It looked like she was still orgasming a little bit, her whole body twitching with every step.
Galeno sat down. “Cup in water, please,” he said. “I am feeling of thirst.” He smacked his chapped lips.
Teddy gave him the water. “So, Galeno… how was it? Was she nice?”
He shrugged, and he flashed a grin that accentuated his dimples. “She was good. Thank you for the business.”
“You’re welcome. Do you…-?”
“Yes, I will be with men as well, but only on top, and I charge fifty percent more,” he said. His accent was noticeably less pronounced when discussing money.
“Oh, so…”
“Three hundred dollars for an hour.”
“Well, shit,” Teddy said. “I’d have never bought you for her if I’d known that. Will you be ready to go again at midnight? That’s when I get off-“
He chuckled. “I am Brazilian. I can go again as soon as you wish,” he said proudly. “We have, eh, the, eh… infinite manhood.”
Teddy blushed and giggled again. This time, his giggles had become flirtatious. Teddy touched Galeno’s bicep through his polo shirt. It flexed under his touch. Galeno smiled, showing off his dimples. Teddy’s knees went weak again.
Then a customer came in, and Teddy had to make a drink. He left Galeno there at the bar. He was so excited he dropped the first glass, heart racing as he looked forward to his little rendezvous with Galeno.
Eventually midnight came, and Galeno had vanished. Teddy was disappointed. He supposed that Galeno probably found a woman — a second woman of the night. Even if he charged men more than women, Galeno would probably always choose a female client over a male.
But still, Teddy was hopeful that he’d land Galeno eventually. Obviously it was within the realm of possibility, he just needed to get the timing right. Really though, that was true of all men. If Teddy got in there at the right time and with the right incentive, any hunk would swing downlow.
The bar gradually emptied out as midnight approached, and then Teddy was alone. He cleaned up, exhausted, disappointed, more tired than he should be because he had been excited about getting it in the ass from a real Brazilian gigolo and now it seemed that wasn’t happening.
But there he was.
Galeno walked into the bar, alone, looking substantially different than before. He had changed out of his fine suit and into a brilliantly colored sleeveless shirt made of something like nylon, below which he wore a pair of shorts that were the same color. They were too short by modern American standards, but they weren’t “short shorts”, they were just old-fashioned, Teddy thought, or foreign — presumably typical of Brazil.
His hair was wet, his skin a little moist, whether from shower water or sweat, Teddy couldn’t tell. He was mesmerized by those deep brown eyes in which he lost himself.
“Hello,” Galeno said. He kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t hear. Galeno ran his fingers through his hair. He lowered his head and kissed Teddy on the lips. He picked Teddy up and walked into the walk-in pantry that was around the corner, near where Carla had been sobbing earlier.
Teddy was dizzy. He had been reconciled to the fact that Galeno wouldn’t be with him, and now here he was. He smelled faintly musky, but with a clean, fruity scent.
He didn’t know that Galeno had done this for him — Galeno had been hired by more than one man over the years, and he knew well how to appeal to them. While women preferred him in a clean suit like a businessman, men preferred him in a skimpy outfit to show off his muscles. Galeno had gone for a quick jog to get good and sweaty, then showered without soap — just rinsed off — so he would be musky while still smelling clean. If he had more time, he would have grown one day’s worth of beard-stubble too and even let his chest sprout a layer of fur. But that would require more than an hour and three hundred dollars.
Teddy felt like the heroine of a romance novel. He rubbed his face against the smooth muscle of Galeno’s bicep, and his fingers danced over Galeno’s chest.
Galeno deposited him in the pantry. It smelled strongly of rice and olive oil, with a tropical scent that was straight out of Brazil — was that the pantry? Or was that Galeno? Teddy didn’t know. He nuzzled Galeno’s chest, his hands roaming under his shirt and lifting it over his head.
Teddy was surprised at how passionate and involved Galeno was. A lot of times when he paid a man to jack off with him, the man acted like he wasn’t involved, like he was just renting his body out for a little while. That was hot; Teddy didn’t mind it.
But Galeno was different. Galeno treated him like a woman who needed to be seduced, showered with kisses and affection. Galeno had no hesitation about kissing a man, it seemed, and his hands even explored Teddy’s body.
That was because Galeno was Brazilian. Like most Brazilian men, Galeno saw himself as so horny, so virile and so masculine that he could be aroused by anyone, and he did not see it as problematic to do anything at all with a man — except get penetrated. He thought nothing of kissing a man on the lips, or even licking that man’s asshole like it was a pussy.
That was what Galeno did. He kissed a trail down Teddy’s slim, pale body, which trembled beneath his touch. Galeno tasted the tender sweetness of his skin, and pulled his pants down.
“Hmmm… You have nice… how do you say… uh… buttocks?” Galeno remembered the word ass, of course, but he knew it was alluring when he pretended to forget English words during the heat of the moment. “It is tasting of sweetness, yes?”
“Yes…” Teddy gasped. He hadn’t expected Galeno to lick his ass. Men didn’t normally do that.
But to Galeno, this was little different than licking a vagina, which he did expertly and often. He enjoyed the harsh funkiness of it, the intense flavor, and the deeply rutting sensation it aroused within him. It was almost enough to get him hard even without a woman in the room.
He lapped at Teddy’s ass until it was good and loose. Then, pulling his face away, Galeno nodded and smiled. Teddy was good and ready, both loose and tight at once. Teddy was on all fours now, and Galeno placed his pinkie finger right there at the entrance to his asshole. He didn’t penetrate him fully, just teased the rim, which made Teddy cry out.
“Hmmmm… you feel so good, my little namorado…” Galeno said breathlessly, aiming his words directly into Teddy’s mouth.
The one thing Galeno didn’t get to do to often was get his dick wet. Few of the women who paid for his services were willing to spend time sucking on his dick.
Galeno kept his finger at Teddy’s ass to keep it open and ready, stretching over Teddy’s back to reach it. That gave Teddy enough room to pop his lips on Galeno’s cock.
“Aaaaaaaaaah…….” Galeno let out a long, cringing moan as soon as Teddy’s lips touched his dick. He could tell that sound excited Teddy, so Galeno did it again and again.
A surge of pleasure hit him. Sometimes messing with Galeno could be clinical; it was a set-menu, a series of practiced actions he could perform in his sleep, each one bringing his clients to new heights of ecstasy. It was nice to do something new for a change, to pleasure somebody different than what he was recently used to. He moaned, glad he could be as loud and as deep as he wanted — that turned off most of the women who paid for his services, but not Teddy.
His cock rocketed to full erection. It tasted clean from his shower, but with that funky aftertaste that Teddy adored. He deep-throated it to the root, letting Galeno plow into his face. Teddy didn’t mind an aggressive dick in his throat, but Galeno, of course, didn’t do that. Galeno casually and caringly humped Teddy’s tongue and the back of his throat.
“Ah, yes, you have such a soft, perfect mouth,” Galeno said with another moan. He guided Teddy’s hand up to feel his nipples, and he flexed his pecs to make Teddy croon.
Finally he felt a few drops of precum hit Teddy’s tongue, which Galeno took as a sign it was time to move on. He quickly pulled Teddy up and had him bend over the shelves of the pantry. Teddy gripped one shelf tightly.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Galeno!”
“Hmmm… Kiss me…” Galeno pulled Teddy’s head to face him, and he planted his lips tightly on Teddy’s. His cock drilled in to Teddy’s tight hole, which was still open because of Galeno’s tongue and finger.
Teddy yelped, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the shelf. Galeno gripped his shoulders and slid his dick in, inch by inch.
This was another matter that was better with men than with women — women rarely chose anal sex, and when they did, they rarely wanted Galeno to fuck hard. They liked a slow, languorous fuck, something they could experience without a single note of discomfort.
Men, however, liked to jack off with force and power.
Galeno wasn’t aggressive, but he was plenty hard. His long hair swayed around his head as he gripped Teddy’s shoulders with one hand, and his hips with the other. He held him in place as he drilled his cock in all the way, until his balls slapped against Teddy’s thighs.
Immediately, Teddy let out a howl as a surge of pleasure wracked his body. He’d never been plowed up the butt quite like this. Galeno seemed to know exactly where his prostate was, and with each thrust of his hips, he stimulated it to a new plateau of intense bliss.
“Oh god, yes!”
Galeno chuckled at the sight of Teddy writhing beneath him. He leaned his head down, rubbing his chest muscles over Teddy’s smooth back. He whispered in Teddy’s ear, “Você está ativado por idiomas estrangeiros, sim?”
Teddy didn’t know what that meant, but he was too overwhelmed by the sensations exploding within him to notice; the sound was too arousing to think, and Galeno’s smooth voice echoed in his mind. He didn’t even realize how long he stood there, leaning against the shelves as he got reamed. He was shocked to learn it was almost midnight when he finally shot his load.
It was an intense and wild orgasm for Teddy, though Galeno was more subdued. Galeno moaned moistly into Teddy’s ear, licking his earlobe. That was enough to send Teddy over the edge at just the right moment for Galeno — who always preferred his men to cum just before Galeno did.
Teddy’s wad sprayed onto the shelf in front of him, making a puddle that sit in front of the trash bags. Galeno kept going, ramming his dick in and out as hard as he could now, since Teddy was wide-open enough to take it.
Creamy cum filled Teddy up, great gobs of it that seeped into his flesh. It was warm and sticky. He could feel it trickling through his body and slipping out into his asscrack.
“Ah, yes, Teddy…” Galeno moaned again. “You feel so sweetly…” He gasped and kissed the back of Teddy’s neck. He hadn’t expected this to feel so good.
But he often thought that after jacking off with men. It was just because they were different, he thought, they felt new and fresh. Plus the women who hired him mostly did so because they had trouble with men — they were too fat, too old, too tall, too stentorian, too mean, and Galeno was able to satisfy them. But feminine men like Teddy were perfectly fine.
So for Galeno, this was almost as intense an orgasm as for Teddy, and he drained a massive load deep into Teddy’s ass. Teddy groaned along with him, then they both fell silent. Galeno sucked on his teeth and kissed Teddy’s head again.
“Yes…” he said with a grunt. He pulled out and Teddy twitched, then fell limp. One final spasm of bliss coursed through both men, who both let out a final rumbling moan of desire.
Teddy giggled as he struggled to stand on weakened knees. He turned around and leaned against Galeno’s chest. He sucked some of the sweat off there. “Hmmm… You taste good, Galeno.”
Galeno nodded. “You have three minutes,” he said.
Teddy smiled and hugged him close. “I better make the best of it.” He looked up at Galeno. “You’re really good at what you do. Are all Brazilian men that good?”
Galeno sniffled and puffed out his chest. “All Brazilian men are better lovers, it is certain. They are better than any man. But I am better than them all.”
Warmth suffused Teddy as he hugged Galeno and smiled, rubbing his face against his chest and stroking his dick for three minutes. By the time he was done, Teddy was already thinking about going to Brazil.
Rob Winthrop invites a hundred big black thugs with big black meat to give him a big black experience! This is a once-in-a-lifetime no-holes-barred event he’ll never forget!
Read the whole thing here!
Rob Winthrop started getting nervous as he always did, when the guys filed in one by one to what Rob had called a “physique appreciation event”. A raucous pit of butterflies fluttered in his belly as the convention center filled up with men. There were a hundred of them, all swaggering thugs who concealed their own anxiety as well — Rob could sense it in the way they avoided eye contact with anyone and shuffled forward in line. They each carried with them the appropriate paperwork.
101 happened to be the fire marshall’s stated capacity for the convention hall, so it was packed tight with no room to spare, especially since part of the room was set off with a large table for them place their clothes on. When Rob instructed them to remove their clothing and get ready, they grumbled.
“Yo, when we gettin’ paid?”
“You best not stiff us, whiteman!”
Rob held up his hands for silence, his heart thumping. He had specifically sought actual thugs, not just thug-acting men — everyone here had a criminal record. There were robbers, muggers, home-invaders, drug dealers, pimps and even two convicted murderers. “No worries, no worries, I will pay all of you. I’ve got the first hundred dollars right here, you can take it when you get started. You understand the rules, right?”
“Yessuh!”
“We do it, fo’ real, man, don’t worry ‘bout that. I ‘xpect to get paid, mothafuckah.” They all laughed and slapped hands with each other.
“I’mma do this propuh, nigga!”
“Wreck that whitey!”
Rob grinned. They were enthusiastic again, and they started to take off their clothes. He re-explained the rules just in case they had forgotten. They were each required to ram him, ideally in both the mouth and ass, though a few had refused that and Rob allowed it anyway. Most of them agreed to do whatever else he wanted short of him penetrating them. They got a hundred dollars no matter what. But if the whole group — which included members of several rival gangs — succeeded in remaining peaceful the entire time, they’d each be paid a thousand dollars instead.
This would not be the first time Rob had paid more than a hundred grand for one physique appreciation event. He had plenty of money from the family business and his trust fund. He couldn’t imagine anything he’d rather spend his fortune on than this. His smooth twink body gleamed in the harsh light of the hotel convention hall, and he kept his hips angled to give a feminine curve to his body.
“Yo, whiteman, we gonna destroy dat ass! You know dat, right?”
“You ain’t gonna walk fo’ a week, man!”
Rob smiled. “That’s the plan, gentlemen.” He chuckled, and they all laughed, their deep and gravelly voices ringing out in the convention hall. The smell of bare balls and even a few drops of precum filled the air — someone must have been real horny, Rob thought, or just loved gangbangs so much he was already hard. A scent of malt liquor was noticeable too, suggesting a few of them had gotten drunk before coming in.
The person who got fully naked first was named Nathaniel Simpel, but he went by the name ‘Truck’. He was eager to get naked because he felt confident that he would have the biggest dick here and, he thought to himself, being the biggest-dicked-nigga at a hundred-man gangbang was really something to be proud of.
So he made sure to get undressed first. Then Truck turned around, standing next to Rob and waving his fat cock between his fingers — that way all the other thugs could see his gigantic meat, which swung between his legs and reached almost all the way to his knees. The chains around his neck jangled like Mr. T. He stayed like that, dick out where every nigga here gotta see it, as he thwacked it back and forth between his thighs.
“Yo, fo’ a thousand dollars,” Truck said, “I can guarantee we gonna stay peaceful long enough to bust a nut.” He laughed, a deep, booming barrel laugh that forced his shoulders back and his hips forward, flapping his fourteen-inch hog towards the other thugs.
Rob handed over the initial payment of a hundred dollars before he grabbed Truck’s fat cock. He gave it a long stroke, and Truck sighed in a highly exaggerated way, prompting laughs from the other men.
“Damn, nigga…”
“He into that, Truck is like that…”
Truck bristled and sucked on his teeth. They all looked at his cock, and a lot of them were hesitant to get naked now. Truck didn’t know that Rob had ensured all one hundred men were of appropriate quality — many of them were used to being the biggest man in any room, so seeing Truck’s legendary meat made them nervous, but everyone there had at least a foot of cock. That was another of Rob’s rules.
“Smells like ballsweat in here.”
“He playin’ wit’ that nigga dick.”
“Can you back up, nigga? Yo’ dick is touchin’ my leg…” There was some grumbling from the men now that they were naked. They were crammed in so close together that they were all over each other, limp cocks and hard muscles rubbing against each other as they pushed in closer to watch the action.
“You scared of my big meat touchin’ ya, huh? Don’t worry, he don’t bite. He treat you right if you just bend over, nigguh…”
“I swear to god, nigga, if you touch my dick one more time, I will lay you out!”
“Hey! No fightin’! All you niggas shut the fuck up. We all crammed into a li’l place, we all gonna be touching each other’s dicks. We all know that was gonna happen. Just chill out. None of us here is gonna ramrod no nigga. We ain’t in prison…” There was some tittering laughter, but aside from some grumbling here and there, the arguments more or less stopped.
Opening his mouth to tease the tip, Rob started slurping on the knob of Truck’s dick. It was veiny and so thick it felt like a muscle of its own beneath Rob’s fingers. He licked it and blushed as the watchings thugs whooped and laughed.
“He doin’ it! He handles dick like a slut too…”
“Shiiiiiiit!”
“That honky do it right!”
Rob reached out for another dick, grabbing a long, uncircumcised one. That was Rupert, the only Jamaican out of the one hundred — Rob loved Jamaican mandingos, but it was rare to find one who would ram him.
“Aw, mon…”
Rupert was as reluctant as any Jamaican, but he was desperate for money. He had grown up among American black men, who frequently boasted they didn’t mind being serviced by men, especially for money. So he was possibly the most nervous person here — none of these men would lose their reputations if word got out what they were doing, but Rupert would. He needed to repay some loans, though, so he had little choice. He sneered and looked away — Rob wasn’t even jerking him off yet. He simply thwacked Rupert’s dick against his face and made him joust with Truck. He suckled on both tips, licking both piss-slits.
When Rupert felt precum slide down his cockshaft, he gagged again. His dick was getting hard, which shocked him. He had wondered if he’d be able to perform, but now he had gotten an erection without even sticking his dick in any hole — this boner came from the friction of his dickshaft rubbing against Truck’s cock.
“Yoh buddy come like a… wet sponge, mon,” Rupert said, making some of the other men laugh. It did feel like a very wet sponge, he thought, with just a little give and plenty of moisture collecting on the surface.
Rob sensed that both Rupert and Truck were nervous about jousting. They both jumped when their cocks first collided, but both bristled with machismo. Neither wanted to admit they were self-conscious about it. Rupert especially didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that Truck’s cock was bigger than his or that Truck himself was thicker-bodied and visibly more muscular than Rupert’s lean frame. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest — it was easier when he didn’t have to see Rob suck on him like a sissy boy.
As Rob moved on from playing with both of those dicks to actually sucking on each one in turn, he felt thick, callused fingers lifting his ass into the air. A few of the thugs had said they didn’t want to ram Rob in the ass — Rob normally didn’t allow that; he could find enough men willing to hit him at both ends that he didn’t need to compromise — but in the end Rob had made some exceptions.
Luckily for him, one thug in particular was Samson Miles, who loved ass no matter who he had to ram. He was a middle-aged and massive, broad-shouldered thug with dark brown skin, a thick mustache and a deep, booming voice. He was grizzled like a shaved bear, with a deep and penetrating stare. Rob had found him as he walked out of prison a few days ago.
“Gonna plow you like a fuckin’ ox,” Samson said, laughing at himself. He was one of the few men besides Rob who got that “plow” and “ox” was wordplay, as he spent his incarceration reading, instead of chasing honeybuns and twink butt. His dick — just as long as Truck but not quite as thick — was already hard, and he guided it in without compunctions. He had been eager to get started. “See, nigga? This is how you do it! This is how you do it!”
In Samson’s eyes, he directed his words at Rico, a young prettyboy who been complaining about Samson’s jacking off — he was briefly in prison alongside Samson and was released yesterday with him. Rico was too nervous to pay much attention though, so he didn’t even realize Samson directed his words Rico’s way. At the state prison, most men messed with a few times, and Rico was no exception. But most of them had the decency to be ashamed of it. They didn’t bring it up, and they didn’t do it in public. They did it in hidden shadowy corners, or they set up a sheet as a curtain in their cell before getting started.
Samson, however, had never had any reluctance at all. He loved booty, and he didn’t really care whose ass he stuck his meat in. He slammed his dick into Rob’s ass, making a game of it as he tried to thrust so hard Rob couldn’t concentrate on the cock in his mouth. All Rob could do was keep his mouth open and let each nigga take a few turns on his throat.
“You like me in yo’ ass, sissy? Huh? I bet you do. I feel you, boy. I feel you good. I know you tryin’-a get my nut. Don’t you worry, boy, I won’t deny you dat. No way. Ol’ Samson gonna fill you up like a whore. You wanna be Samson’s whore? Course you do, boy. E’ry sissy wanna be my cumdump.”
Samson also didn’t see any reason to hold back from cumming. He had barely gotten started before he felt his orgasm approaching, and he wasn’t about to slow down — after all, if he didn’t cum now, he would have to do it after some other guys did. Samson didn’t mind having sloppy-seconds, or even tenths or whatever, but he would rather be the one who makes the seconds sloppy.
“Gonna make you real sloppy, sissy. Real sloppy.”
So when he came, he grabbed ahold of Rob’s hair, lifting his head up. Rob flailed and gripped tattooed brown muscles all around him, but the sensations were too intense for him to stroke. It was all he could do to moan and groan while Samson’s thick body rippled against Rob’s smooth back.
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, at the same time that someone else finally finished on Rob’s face. So he savored the flavor as his mouth filled up, and cum flowed into his ass. It tasted thick and buttery, its heat seeping into his skin. Since he couldn’t concentrate, Rob didn’t swallow. Semen dripped out past his lips and coated his cheeks and chin.
“Ah, damn, now we gettin’ into it. We broke the cumdump in…”
Samson was just as nasty — he laughed as the other niggas told him to stop, to let them take a turn. Someone even tapped him lightly on the ass, his plump cheeks jiggling, like he was a tag-team wrestler whose partner wanted in.
But Samson didn’t want to give up his turn yet. He wanted to leave his mark. His deep, booming laughter echoed as he kept on humping his now-limp dick in Rob’s tender ass. That had the effect of making his load into a big frothy mess. It trickled out of Rob’s hole through the sides of Samson’s dick, and then when he finally pulled out, huge bubbling clumps of cum flowed out. It coated Rob’s asscrack in Samson’s creamy seed.
“There, niggas. Them seconds is real sloppy,” Samson said, laughing as the others groaned in disgust.
Someone else finished on Rob’s face. Now that his ass was empty again — however briefly — Rob managed to swallow it deep. He savored the cummy flavor flowing over his tongue, and he let most of it drip out past his lips to make a bigger mess on his face.
The second man in his ass must have been stroking himself off hard, Rob thought, because he came right away. Another thug pushed nakedly through the crowd, his erect cock throbbing. “Outta my way, niggas, outta my way, I’m gonna blow-” and he didn’t quite make it in time. The first wad of his nut hit another thug on the thigh, but the rest made it onto Rob’s face, where is smeared over the trio of cocks there at the moment.
“You nutted on my leg, nigga!” someone roared.
A fight nearly broke out. There was some confusion about who had cum on whom — or maybe several people had accidentally done the same thing, Rob couldn’t even tell how many loads he had taken yet.
“Yo, no fightin’!”
“If you make us lose this thousand dollars, nigga… I swear to God!”
“What?! Try somethin’, nigga!”
But the older and cooler heads among them prevailed. It helped that all of the gangs represented here had a few leaders who could provide order and ensure peace, and Rob had promised those leaders an extra thousand dollars — to be disbursed later, when no one else was around — if they made sure the gangbang went smoothly.
Rob was surprised at how quickly they reached orgasm as they went, and how many of them came mainly from masturbating. A lot of them must have been watching intently and getting hard even though there were no women around — and Rob had forbidden porn from the scene.
Two thugs came at the same time in his mouth, the salty-sweet flavor of their cum distracting him from his thoughts. Rob guzzled it all down but made sure to play with both dicks too, so a lot of that cum covered their shafts before he sucked it back into his mouth. Those two thugs were Gariah and Bammy, a pair of identical twins. They specialized in gangbanging girls, just the two of them, and cumming simultaneously — they had initially tried it on a dare (and had been unsuccessful at timing it on that first occasion), but now managed to do it with every girlfriend either one had.
“Damn, simultaneous nuts! That was impressive, niggas.”
The pain in his ass went away as another fat cock slipped in his ass. The stout, tattooed thug who did that — Uggs was what he went by — groaned in disgust as cum leaked out and coated his dick and fingers. But it didn’t slow him down at all, and the cum probably helped, Rob thought, because it was an effective lube.
As Uggs approached his own orgasm, a thug named Sharnell appeared suddenly. He tried to ram his dick in as though Rob might get double-penetrated, but both dicks were way too big for that. So he just jabbed his cock in the direction of Rob’s ass, spraying his sudden cumload onto Ham’s cock.
“Oh, nigga! Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I dunno, man,” Sharnell said with a sheepish chuckle. “I wanted to cum in his ass and… I guess I got… y’know, confused…”
“You thought my dick was his asshole?” Uggs asked to assorted laughter. It looked like he was about to add something else, but he groaned and his eyes fluttered. He sprayed his own load into Rob’s guts, pulling out and letting another thug — Delroy — plump right in before Rob’s asshole had a chance to relax.
“Ugh, sloppy fifty-thirds…?”
“Somethin’ like that, at least fifty! How’s that feel? Huh, nigga? Yo’ dick be swimmin’ in cum!”
Delroy groaned like he was disgusted, but it didn’t slow him down any. “Don’t care, nigga, I love booty!” He play-kissed the air and laughed, as he plunged his cock into Rob’s moist, meaty goodness, and he laughed nervously when a great ball of filthy cum splashed up onto his ballsack.
Then another thug got involved — at first it looked as though he and Delroy might argue over Rob’s ass. But then they decided to take turns. Delroy mounted Rob from up high, while the other thug kneeled behind him. They each pushed their dick in once, then watched the other do so, frothing up all those loads and laughing at the mess they made.
Finally the both of them finished, spraying their loads onto Rob’s asshole just as a third nigga came out of nowhere to do the same. They all clasped hands and cheered each other on, no longer bothering to try to avoid splashback from each other’s loads. The prissiest men had cum first, probably, and a handful had simply jacked themselves off and cum on Rob — disappointing, but Rob wasn’t expecting them all to actually follow through. If all one hundred men took five minutes each, Rob would have to spend more than eight hours on this, and not even Rob’s ass could take that much punishment.
“Damn, let’s make this sissy the nastiest! Lookit that! I ain’t nevuh seen no female get this nasty!”
A lot of the finished guys held their clothes in their hands. They had all wanted to get dressed, but the first few niggas to finish stayed naked, watching intently, and the others just wanted to fit in. Nobody wanted to be the one who was so self-conscious he couldn’t handle being naked among the others.
They crammed in close to watch as the last few thugs finished cumming all over Rob. Their cocks rubbed against each other, leaving behind a residue of anal juices, cum and saliva. About half of them didn’t notice the dickmeat brushing up against each other, and the other half could think of nothing else.
Rob barely even noticed the final man approach. He was Tyrell, and he went last because he had bragged that he could. He didn’t meant to actually say he wanted to — what had happened was simply that he boasted how much of a horny mandingo he was, and the others had taken that at face value. Tyrell said he would ram anyone, in any hole, anytime, because he was a “real nigga” and “real niggas blow loads!”
When the others had teased him about going last, Tyrell instinctively agreed without thinking about it. That was not the first time he had mistakenly agreed to something due to his bravado, but, he thought as he approached Rob’s ass, this might be the worst time.
“Splash in!”
“Sloppy seventy-sevenths, nigga!!”
Tyrell bit his lip and slipped his cock in. When he was in prison last year, he had ramrodded a man several times. He had sloppy seconds once, and it was revolting. The other inmates teased him when he backed out and made the bottom wash up first, so Tyrell had changed his mind and slammed his meat into Rob’s ass so quickly that a big bubble of frothy cum had come up and popped. That had covered Tyrell’s crotch in sticky-white cum. He gagged then, but the other inmates clasped him on the back and encouraged him. ‘That’s how we do in this cell, baby! We get nasty!’ Tyrell had been proud of himself then. He even bragged about it to his father when he came for a visit, though his dad had smacked Tyrell in the face and told him “real niggas get nasty behind bars, but they don’t tell no one about it. What happens in there, stays in there.”
Tyrell gagged again at the feel of sticky cum dripping over his cock like alien goop. He was half-hard, hard enough he should be able to stick it in Rob’s ass, but he was nervous about touching so much cum. He didn’t know how many niggas had cum inside Rob, but it was at least fifty, probably more.
He tried to avoid using his hands, but his dick was not hard enough to just ram it in. He gingerly touched Rob’s cum-dripping asscheeks to pull them apart. There was so much cum there it was a bubbling out, no doubt making little fart-like noises though no one could hear that over the sound of niggas cheering.
“Get nasty, Tyrell!”
He took a deep breath and used his hand to guide it in. He gagged again but covered it up with a cough so no one knew how nervous he was. He prayed that he wouldn’t lose his erection. He couldn’t believe that he had agreed to go last — why didn’t he realize how gross this would be at the time? Of course the last nigga in a hundred-man slamfest was gonna get a nasty, loose asshole.
And it was loose. If it weren’t for the clumps of cum, Tyrell might have barely even felt the sides of Rob’s asshole. But as it was, he was just horny enough to stay hard as he forced his dick in. Great gobs of cum dripped from his fingers.
“Ah, shit, nigga, that is the most disgusting thing I evuh seen!”
Tyrell cheered. He liked hearing men clap and hoot at him. He knew they were teasing him, but he had always found that the best way to get past that was to pretend you loved whatever they teased you about. He grinned and growled. He even pounded on his chest, making his muscles jiggle as his hands dripped semen all over his dark brown flesh.
Finally, when he was on the verge of cumming, Tyrell groaned. He yelped as Rob pulled away from him, and his cock was temporarily visible to everyone — he had a big, brown veiny shaft that no one could see because it was coated in santorum. Dingy white cum, its pearlescence obviated by the anal juices mixed in, dripped off and onto the ground as his dick vibrated.
“Ah, shit, lookit that nasty meat!”
“That is one slutty sissy!”
Tyrell’s dick was only bare for a half a second or so, but that was enough time for everyone to see it. Tyrell himself gagged at the sight of his own meat soaked in other niggas’s cum. Seconds later, Rob turned around and licked a clean stripe on the underside of Tyrell’s dick.
The taste of ass-and-cum overwhelmed Rob’s senses. He groaned and moaned, letting out such a cringingly potent sound that everyone fell silent as they watched. The thugs leaned in, coming closer together, so everyone’s bare crotches and sweaty, gleaming muscles rubbed against each other.
“Ah shit, a champion slut for the ages!”
“You should teach my whores how to be this nasty, boy. You could give lessons and shit…”
“Ass-to-mouth! Ass-to-mouth!”
Rob licked every inch of Tyrell’s incredible meat. It tasted so bad and so good at the same time that Rob wished he had made them all do ass-to-mouth. He deep-throated that assy cock as he felt Tyrell’s balls crawl up in his sac.
After getting ninety-nine loads all over his body, Rob wanted to swallow this one. He moaned and gripped Tyrell’s asscheeks so tightly Tyrell couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. Tyrell’s massive dick throbbing in Rob’s throat before he finally shot his load.
His dick was aimed right down Rob’s gullet, so Rob didn’t taste any of that cum at first — he still tasted all the other cum that stuck to Tyrell’s cockshaft, but the actual fresh load was spurted too deep down his throat to taste it. Instead he felt it flow into his stomach, settling into a tight, warm, savory ball of lust deep in his belly.
“Oh, yeah, whiteboy, that is the way to do it…” Tyrell said with a moan, forgetting his anxiety about getting so much cum all over his body.
He kept on spraying. He leaned his head back and smiled at his fellow thugs as he finally finished, leaving his limp dick in place until every last drop was in Rob’s stomach. Then he pulled out, and Rob gagged again as that shiny shaft plopped out of his mouth.
“Hell yeah, nigga! You got him good!”
“Where’s our money? Huh, sissy?! We ain’t fight! We did what we s’sposed to,” someone shouted indignantly. Rob couldn’t see who that was, but whoever it was sounded annoyed that Rob hadn’t already given out the thousand dollars.
“Relax, relax,” Rob said, holding hands up for silence. “I haven’t even finished swallowing yet, chill out. I’ve got a thousand dollars for each of you. Why don’t you get dressed and form a line right here?” He leaned back and sighed.
They cheered and clapped their hands, waving their bare cocks in his direction. When this began, it was obvious who was in which gang because they clustered together. But now, that was no longer the case. They had seemingly forgotten about their differences and were lining up. They didn’t even notice that Rob had told them to get dressed first. Most of them were in line already, still stark naked.
That was fine with Rob, who stretched as he stood on his sore knees. Everywhere he looked were naked thugs, and he was already wondering if he could get any more action out of them.
He decided not to do that because it would take too long. He paid them with an app, of course, as he was definitely not bringing a hundred grand in cash to this event. As his phone whirred and worked, each thug had stand there while Rob paid him using one hand, his other hand caressing their muscles and their limp dicks.
All in all, it took nearly two hours to pay them all off, and by the time he was done, Rob was just about ready to go again. He smiled and leaned back in his chair.
Maybe I’ll do rednecks next, Rob thought. He had passed a trailer park on the way into Detroit, and that had looked promising. But first he wanted to simply sit back and finish basking in his post-orgasm glow.
And then he’d head over to the trailer park to get started.
Rob has paid for “seven minutes in heaven” with the inmate of his choosing, but that inmate turns out to be the alpha male thug Nutter, who’s got a secret desire of his own. Nutter can’t wait to get Rob alone so he can learn what happens when he puts a twink on top!
Can Rob handle this prison-life rough trade turned upside down?!
Read the whole thing here!
Rob strode into prison with as confidence as he could muster — he didn’t want to look like he was a sniveling weakling precisely because he was about to act like one — but his ego quickly deflated. He was searched, poked and prodded by Officer Budinsky. It was demeaning, and it made Rob feel like a prisoner. It both helped and exacerbated the problem that Officer Budinsky was a handsome man himself, with a sturdy physique and a big square jaw.
But Rob wasn’t here for Officer Budinsky. Rob had paid to meet an inmate.
He walked through the state prison increasingly nervous at the hooting, shouting, whooping and thudding he heard in the cells lining every corridor. He was glad when they at last came to Cell Block Omega, which Budinsky had said was not in use due to a sewage line break.
Spread among the cells of Omega Block were eight prisoners who met Rob’s criteria and were willing to let Rob’s tiny twink body service them. Rob had been daydreaming about setting this sort of encounter up for years, and he never thought he’d go through with it until a few months ago, when he realized he needed to just bite the bullet and try. The worst that could happen was being refused by the prison guard he approached.
“Wuddup, Booty!” came a voice from one of the cells.
“Fuckin’ A, man, c’mon, hurry it up!”
“Tell him I’ll do it! Tell him I got the biggest dick, Booty!” They called Budinsky ‘Officer Booty’, maybe because he had a big ass crammed into his too-tight uniform pants. He had powerful trunk-like thighs and thick arms.
“I’ll make his bigguh, I got tasty cum, tell him I’ll be gentle, Booty! Tell him my cum works a treat!”
“Nah, nah, my jizz is the most effective, swear to God, nigga!”
Rob did not tell Budinsky that he thought ingesting the semen of strong, testosterone-laden men would make him bigger, stronger, tougher or possessing of a larger penis. Rob did not believe that, and Budinsky never even asked if that was why he was setting this up. It seemed he assumed though, as several of the hooting inmates made reference to it.
Seven minutes ought to be enough, Rob thought. That was all Rob paid for. Budinsky assured him that these men would be horny and ready to take charge, so the brief duration wouldn’t be a detriment to the experience. Rob wanted to be held down and rammed hard, slapped, treated like a submissive prison bitch, and he was told most prison “bitch-outs” took only a few minutes. The sight of empty cells and the hollering of men in a far off block made him hard even before he had seen a single inmate. This whole prison smelled of men. You could tell no women ever came here, not past the visitation area. Rob had had to adjust his erect cock in his pants several times on the walk through the prison.
The one in the first cell was tall and lean, with dreadlocks and hawkish features. He spoke with a faint island accent, but Rob suspected that was an affectation, he was probably from like Delaware or somewhere humiliating like that. No wonder he was pretending to be from anywhere else. He had an East Coast stawk that was his deeper than his Caribbean lilt. He flopped his dick between his fingers and showed off his perfect six-pack. “Yo, mon, you like me-uh treat you poorly? I will ram you senseless, whiteman. You will cry when I am uh-done wit’chou. I will plow the sissy-boy outta you, and then I gonna plow it right back in.”
Rob preferred men with a little meat on their bones — as much as he wished he could get on his knees and jerk the dreadlocked man off through the cell bars, Rob thought there was someone better in one of the other cells. It’s a good thing he never became a prison guard, cuz he would spend all his time on his knees in front of these men.
Then he passed a burly black man with a wild beard and a sour look on his face. He nodded at Rob, ran his tongue under his upper lip and said, “Damn, whiteboi, you look good enough to eat.”
But Rob moved on. He wasn’t quite right. The next one was Latino and bald-headed. “You wanna be my puta?” he asked as Rob walked past.
The fourth person was heavily tattooed. He didn’t say anything, he just nodded at Rob and bucked forward as though he was going to attack Rob through the cell bars. Rob instinctively shrank back and blushed when the tattooed thug cackled at him.
As soon as Rob came to the fifth cell, he knew he had found his man.
“So, you the man who wanna be my bitch, huh?”
His smooth baritone made Rob blush. He quickly hurried to the end of the corridor to see the others — that just seemed polite, after all, they had come all the way here — but he knew what he wanted. That man in the fifth cell was tall and broad-shouldered, with a powerhouse physique, dripping with muscle and meat. His skin was camel brown and moisturized like a warrior, smooth and glistening, you could tell the sweat would gleam on him. Looked like he scrubbed up though, he was clean and smelled like industrial soap. He didn’t have a six-pack, just a tiny belly, barely enough to grab on to, but that was the perfect size for Rob. There was a crucifix tattooed over his sternum and a gun on each bicep.
“Yo,” he said with a big wide, shit-eating grin when Rob chose him. “I’m Nutter.” He undressed Rob with his eyes, and his dick visibly shifted in his orange prison pants.
“Charles Everly,” Officer Budinsky said. “Mister Everly here is an armed robber and an arms-trafficker-“
“I sold one gun, Budinsky, don’t be dramatic,” he said. He snorted and avoided looking at Rob. “So you the one who wanna be a prison bitch, huh? Ain’t nevuh heard of no one who want that. But you kinda look like a bitch, so it ain’t hard to believe. It’s been awhile for me. I enjoy holdin’ a nigga down and makin’ him cry uncle — not that I stop then, it’s just nice to hear him cry — but I might like-“
“Don’t hurt him, Mister Everly,” Budinsky said. “I’ll be right out here.”
“You think my cum is gonna make yo’ dick bigger, huh?” Nutter asked.
Rob shrugged. “Not really. Some people do. I’ve never been convinced,” he said. “I’m just doing it because I want to.”
Nutter nodded like that was a very good reason. He glanced at Budinsky, who unlocked the cell. “Can we put the curtain up?” Nutter asked with a sultry rumble to his voice.
Officer Budinsky looked to Rob, who blushed again and nodded. “Please! Let’s do that. I wanna have the real prison bitch experience.” Rob’s heart felt like it might jump out of his chest. This was really happening! He couldn’t believe he’d put it off for so long, then it turned out to be easy, and now Rob was gonna get wrecked by Nutter’s huge slab of alpha male prison-starved meat.
“Oh, yeah, that’s what we gonna have, the real prison bitch experience,” Nutter said. He laughed, and the men in the other cells joined in. “I am gonna treat you bad, whiteboi, bad in all the right ways. Hope you wasn’t intendin’ to walk outta here.”
“Destroy ‘im, Nutter!”
“He picked Nutter?”
“Damn-“
“He don’t want a Mexican. Don’t nobody want a Mexican. Even Mexicans is itchin’ to get away-“
“Nutter! Nutter! Wreck his asshole!”
Rob had never felt so weak and submissive. His dick was rock-hard, and it started leaking precum the moment he heard the lock slide into place. The door was shut, and the prison cell was stuffy. Nutter’s smell and body heat filled the air.
“Gonna destroy you, pansy,” Nutter said with a sneer. He quickly hung up a sheet that blocked the cell from view. Rob shivered as he anticipated what was going to come next. Nutter towered over him by more than a foot, and he must have outweighed Rob by a hundred and fifty pounds or more.
“Make him squeal like a piggie, Nutter!”
“I will!” he called out. Once the sheet was hung up, however, his smile changed. He sunk down so he looked Rob right in the eyes. It almost felt like he was going to kiss Rob. He whispered, “Yo, I got a proposition for ya. I been in this place fo’ a long time, and I done had a million prison bitches. I plowed ‘em up, and I wrecked ‘em, and I moved on to the next. I wanna do somethin’ different.”
“Oh… like what?”
“I want you to ram me,” he said. He looked down and bit his lower lip. Then, for the benefit of everyone listening on the other side of the curtain, he called out, “You know what prison lube is? It’s how we get a bitch to deep-throat. Lemme spit in yo’ throat, lube it up real good.” He spat on the ground, and everyone cheered him on. Then he whispered again, “I wanna taste yo’ dick and feel you inside of me.”
“Are you serious?”
“This is a serious place, and I am a serious nigga,” he said, his face flat. “Come on, honky. I know you came here to bottom, and I’ll plow the shit outta you — literally — if that’s whatchoo want. But I wanna get it up the ass. I can’t let anyone in here know a white man got me up behind. That’ll ruin my rep. So this my only option. I ain’t think I ever gonna have the chance to bottom for a pretty boy like you. Whatchoo think?”
“Are you serious? Hell yeah,” Rob said, focusing hard to keep himself from being too loud. This was all happening so fast, it was hard to recalibrate his expectations. It wasn’t what he had come in here for, but he couldn’t imagine anything more enjoyable than plowing Nutter’s massive body.
“Alright,” he grinned. “Let’s hurry up, or we gonna run outta time. Seven minutes ain’t much.” He hesitated, then stooped over and kissed Rob on the lips. He was halting and slow. His tongue pushed into Rob’s mouth.
Though his passion was lacking at first, a few seconds in, Nutter let out a moan that resonated in Rob’s mouth. His tongue suddenly moved, clobbering Rob’s own tongue, and his thick fingers grasped Rob’s shirt. He ripped it, buttons flying to the bunk and dingy toilet in the corner of his cell.
“I ain’t hear him squeal yet, his mouth full?”
“Sounds moist in there, I can kinda hear it. He plowing that fairy in the face, I think.”
“Nutter, how that sissy-boi takin’ it, mon?”
“You can’t hear him choke, nigga? Guess his bitch mouth is just too full to choke. He ain’t breathe in a minute, son,” Nutter said. “Got too much dick in there, and he lovin’ it, like a fuckin’ Big Mac and shit!” His big eyes twinkled as he pecked Rob on the lips and then worked his way down Rob’s pale, lithe body. He shuddered like he was surprised at the taste, and he stopped to suck on Rob’s nipples. Then he licked Rob’s flat belly and stopped only when he reached Rob’s pubic hair (which he kept trimmed very short).
Nutter was so much bigger than Rob that even getting on his knees wasn’t enough, he was still too tall to swallow Rob’s dick. He had to get on all fours, with his plump ass high in the air, while Rob stood on his toes in front of Nutter’s face.
But when he did get his head in position, Nutter wasted no time in swallowing Rob’s dick to the root. He seemed surprised that Rob’s cock wasn’t as proportionately small as his body was. He motioned for Rob to make some noise. An immediate shudder of pleasure wracked Rob’s body, as Nutter’s warm mouth encircled his cock.
Rob blushed but spat and sputtered, hocking up a few loogies and even sticking a finger far enough down his throat to gag once, making a sound that could be heard outside the cell. That made the other men laugh and cheer, banging on the bars of their cell.
“That sounds right, nigga!”
“Choke him! Show him how we do it!”
In no time Rob was rock-hard, and he started getting into it. Every time the men quieted down, he made it sound like he was getting throated and loving it, and they’d laugh again. Even Officer Budinsky chuckled quietly.
“You got this, Nutter!”
Nutter had a broad back, pocked with a few scars and marks, plus some dark blue prison tats that Rob couldn’t quite make out (some kind of writing, he thought, possibly Hebrew, like an Old Testament verse). He stroked Nutter’s muscles, trying to reach his plump ass, but he was much too short. Instead he grasped at Nutter’s back and shoulders, sighing as pleasure moved through him. They both threw their heads back and moaned. Rob’s moan was drowned out by Nutter’s, and Nutter made his sound exaggerated and comical so it wasn’t obvious to their audience why he was moaning.
“He change his mind about being a prison bitch, Nutter?”
“No, he ain’t! He is lovin’ every second of it! He’s serious.” Nutter guffawed, then aimed his voice at Rob. “You should commit some crimes and shit, whiteboi. You could be the queen bitch in this place!” Nutter said. His voice was joyous and light-hearted, even as his face was serious, gasping, with Rob’s dick throbbing against his nose and cheeks.
As he resumed slurping on Rob’s dick, Nutter moved his head more and more aggressively up and down. Rob felt like he was being attacked by Nutter’s massive head, which made him throw his head back and moan — he covered his mouth with a hand to muffle the sound. Nutter took Rob’s hands in his and wrapped it over his head. The sensation was exquisite, and it felt so good Rob’s toes curled and his hands formed fists at his sides. It felt so good it hurt, and Rob had to avoid moaning lest the thugs outside this cell realized what was happening.
Rob had been on the receiving end of a jailhouse-style throating on several occasions, but he had never topped for that kind of scenario.
But he wanted to give Nutter what he desired. He held onto the ragged short afro on Nutter’s head, gripping his hair, and he slammed his dick all the way in. Nutter let out a chortling gurgling sound with a moistness that made everyone else burst into cheers. To Rob, it sounded much too deep to be his own voice — he was more high-pitched and feminine than that — but luckily it seemed the other inmates didn’t realize that. They had never heard Rob before today so they had no basis for comparison.
“Ram ‘im harder!”
Nutter pulled off and laid on his back on the bare mattress on the bunk in the cell. He snorted and sniffled, wiping fluids off his face, and he smiled silently at Rob. He let his head hang over the foot of the bed. “That’s the proper position for a prison bitch, alright, pervert? Get ready to get yo’self throated.”
“Yeah, plow ‘is gullet, nigga!”
“Ram ‘im! Ram ‘im! Ram ‘im!”
Rob squealed loudly, blushing as the other inmates cheered him on. Nutter was in exactly the position Rob liked to get throated in. Rob had never in his life been on this side of it. He approached Nutter’s broad face and pushed his dick past those thick, juicy lips. His cock slammed into Nutter’s throat, making him retch and writhe atop the filthy prison mattress.
“He regrettin’ signin’ up fo’ this yet?”
Incredible pleasure rocketed through Rob’s spine. He had never felt like this, not even on those few occasions when he got to top someone. Bliss roiled his body and made his knees weak. He shuddered and moaned quietly, every ounce of concentration he could muster going towards not being so loud that he alerted the others to the fact that he wasn’t bottoming as they thought.
Precum flowed down Nutter’s throat. From the reaction on his face, it seemed he had little experience with that. Did he like the taste or hate it? Rob couldn’t tell, and in this position, he didn’t have to care. He felt like he was overpowering Nutter, whose muscular limbs contorted as he accepted the throating. His muscles flexed and bucked as though he was fighting back, and his movement made the bunk beneath him move. The sound of steel scraping against the prison cell floor caused a torrent of cheers from the other cells.
He pulled off once again, grabbed Rob’s slick dick. He lowered his head farther, so he could suck on Rob’s balls. Then he called out, “He suckin’ the sweat off my balls now, what a nasty punk he is!” He let both of Rob’s balls fit easily in his big mouth. He suckled loudly, making a sputtering sound that provoked more cheers from the other cells.
“Nasty! Can’t believe he signed up for this!”
Then Nutter pulled away, stood up and turned around, in a hurry like he had just remembered they were on a time limit. Spit clung to his lips in tendrils, and his ruddy face was moist with tears from lack of oxygen and sweat dappling his forehead. Rob too was sweaty and exhausted, sensations still flowing through his veins, and he had to focus to avoid nutting.
“Four minutes left, guys,” Officer Budinsky said. “You better hurry up.”
His ass was much wider than Rob’s body, not because he was fat, it was just big and broad and juicy. Each cheek was nearly twice the size of Rob’s head. He lowered his ass onto Rob’s dick, slowly. Rob still stood at the foot of the bed, so Nutter crouched on all fours on the ground and backed up until his ass lined up with Rob’s crotch. His crack was choked with sweaty hair, which Rob would have gladly licked clean like a good prison bitch. He felt like he was losing his entire body in the choked masculine jungle of Nutter’s ass.
“Gettin’ in his ass now, Budinsky, cool yo’ jets,” Nutter said. “Don’t worry, he gettin’ e’ry inch of me that he entitled to. Don’t you worry yo’ sweet redneck head about that, Budinsky.”
“You alright in there, sir?” Budinsky asked through the curtain.
“Yeah…” Rob said, too embarrassed to think of anything else to say. He wasn’t sure how to say it that wouldn’t give away what was really happening in here. “I… uh, he’s treating me right.”
“That’s right, he is! Nigga please! Showin’ you how it’s done!”
“You mean he treatin’ you wrong, but he doin’ it in the right way.”
Rob gulped as Nutter penetrated himself with Rob’s dick. Rob gingerly gripped his shoulders and held on while he began humping back, gradually losing his inhibitions. Another jolt of pleasure ran up his body from the moment his dick poked through that jungle of sweaty ass-hair and into his tight hole.
When Nutter grunted in pain, he covered it up with a louder roar, an aggressive sound that made the other inmates whoop and holler along with him. Nutter threw his head back and wordlessly moaned, smiling at Rob even as he grunted out threats and insults.
“Gonna ram you so hard you wear a diaper, honky…” Nutter said out loud, with as much confidence as he could muster.
Rob was not an actor. He tried to pant like a submissive man might — he should have been better at it, since that was the role he normally played, but everything happening here was outside his wheelhouse. He couldn’t remember what kind of sounds he might normally make in the reverse of this situation.
“Make ‘im beg for mercy, nigga!”
It was clear that Nutter wasn’t kidding about having never gotten it up the ass — not that Rob ever doubted him. His asshole was so tight that Rob had to really shove to get his dick in there. There was no time for a gentle approach either. Rob pushed it in farther and farther, and when Nutter didn’t stop him, he began to ram his shaft back and forth, uncaring of his resistance or the hairs that Rob’s dick accidentally ripped from his crack.
“Teach ‘im a lesson! Fuckin’ white man, comin’ in here, tryin’-a get it up the ass and shit…”
Each time Rob rammed his dick into him, Nutter winced and blanched. The whole experience was so incredible that each time Rob thrust past Nutter’s resistance in his ass, a surge of awkward pleasure hit him and Rob moaned in a pained, struggling way. It genuinely did sound like a prison bitch getting plowed, which just egged the other inmates on.
“Wreck him! Ruin him! Show him how we do it, nigga! No mercy!”
“No mercy!”
Rob did indeed plow with no mercy. Of course it was Nutter who responded, “He takin’ it, nigga. Ain’t like a prison bitch, he been opened up a million times before. Kinda nice plowin’ a bitch who ain’t too squirmy. Gonna fill him up wit’ some nut.”
“Two minutes left, guys. You still alright in there?”
“Yes! Yes, officer…” Rob said, his excitement making everyone, including Budinsky, laugh. “I’m, uh… I’m just finishing up.” He threw his head back and moaned as wave after wave of unimaginable bliss washed over him, so intense it was painful as he lost himself in the massive muscled ass trembling before his gentle frame.
Nutter’s ass clenched when he approached his own orgasm. He had started jacking himself off. Rob tried to give him a reacharound, but he could barely reach all the way around, so he just fumbled with Nutter’s powerhouse body while slamming his dick in and out of Nutter’s jiggling, tight ass.
“Aw, shit…” Nutter grunted. “You take dick good!”
When Rob’s orgasm finally came, it felt like it had been a lifetime, way more than seven minutes. Rob yelped and scratched at Nutter’s back — he was so big and thick-skinned he didn’t seem to notice — while intense pleasure suffused both men’s bodies, in sync with each other like no one Rob had ever been with before.
Cum flowed into Nutter’s ass, a huge load that dripped out and down those giant trunk-like thighs. It splatted on the floor, but still Rob came. Nutter roared as he shot his own load into his hand and all over his chest. He managed to make the roar sound like a manly cavemanesque grunt.
Rob’s entire body went limp. He knew they were running out of time, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out, not yet. He kept it there, stimulating Nutter’s prostate while Nutter’s body writhed and flexed with both bliss and agony, pride and shame visible on his contorting face.
Nutter turned around, his massive chest gleaming, covered in his own cum. Rob licked every inch of it, savoring the meaty feel of the man’s muscles. Nutter made sure the cum reached up to his face, so when Rob moved upward and kissed Nutter on the lips, he tasted it. He had to climb the man’s mountainous torso to get there, gripping his throbbing muscles with Rob’s delicate fingers.
They shared cum for another minute or so, stopping only when Officer Budinsky counted down the last thirty seconds. Rob was bashful and hurriedly cleaned himself up with a napkin before putting his clothes back on. Nutter just stood there, covered in fluids, his cum mingling with his sweat so it wasn’t obvious what it was. His dick dangled between his legs.
“Damn, Nutter, put some clothes on,” Officer Budinsky said when he reached zero and pulled the curtain down.
Rob was bright red, too scared he’d blurt out what happened to say anything at all. He quickly dressed and clasped the sweaty small of Nutter’s back.
“Bye, Nutter, that was amazing. You’re the best prison alpha-“
“Shut up, bitch, I ain’t tryin’-a please you,” Nutter said. “You come back here again, and I’ll fist you, punk.”
Rob just nodded and followed Officer Budinsky out. He pretended his ass hurt as he walked past the other inmates.
“Was that everything you thought it was gonna be?” Officer Budinsky asked once they were out of Cell Block Alpha.
“No,” Rob said. “It was completely different, and so much better.”
Avery is offended by the hazing horseplay of the GHU football team, so they come by to say sorry and give him a ride on the player of his choice. Avery is all too happy to forgive them, but then he turns down the six-packed studs everyone thought Avery would pick…
Instead he opts for the stout linebacker they call Gravyboat! Can Avery handle this thick-ass jock’s mountain of manmeat?!
Or read the whole thing here!
When the waiting room to the massage parlor erupted in noise, Avery assumed it was a mistake. There was a bar next door, so maybe this group of rambunctious dudes had intended to go there and entered the wrong door. That seemed probable. They were whooping like this was the last stop on a pub crawl.
Avery hurried out to the waiting room, where he stopped short.
The entire football team from the GHU campus had come, more than fifty men filling into the cramped space, which had twelve chairs. Avery was flummoxed by the conglomeration of young bucks in loose-fitting sweatpants and ripped t-shirts.
“Youths…” Avery furrowed his brow. There was a time when he sought the vitality of young men. And he still did, in his own way. But Avery was more mature now. He had more to lose. He did not like the way they leaned on his chairs and the counter and the bamboo mats on the wall, and he could smell their feet from here, or maybe that was them, not just their feet, but Avery didn’t like it.
He wrinkled his nose.
They all spoke at once, the air filling with bravado, threats and challenges. At least three spoke to Avery, who couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Two of the young men began arm-wrestling, which required them to get down on the floor on their bellies. The armwrestling, Avery later determined, was to decide which of the two “called dibs on upstairs for the party tonight, broh”. Six of them explained simultaneously why that was important. It involved girls. They wanted to fuck, presumably.
Avery could sympathize with that. He didn’t feel the same way, but he understood the impulse.
“Hey, hey, shut up, y’all, e’ryone shut up!” shouted the square-jawed quarterback, Jimmy, who looked like a Disney prince with a powerful shock of blond hair and broad shoulders like a plow. His brilliant eyes flashed handsomely. He made Avery’s heart flutter. His muscles rippled under the jersey he wore, not a jersey for his team, it was a 49ers jersey.
That was when Avery spotted Quinn Webblehutt, the quiet one in the corner, looking like he didn’t want to be noticed. He sat in a chair properly, and he blushed when he laughed. He avoided eye contact with Avery.
That’s because Avery knew Quinn. He came in last weekend.
Quinn was a freshman linebacker, and he was fat. He was also very strong and athletic and he was very fast for his size, but he was more than four hundred pounds and he had a belly that could fit a dozen Averys. He had come into the massage parlor and gotten a massage. Afterwards, he took out his disgusting fat dick and farted with his disgusting fat ass and told Avery to “lube up”.
That fucking asshole had come in here thinking Avery was some kind of cum receptacle of last resort for peanut-dicked hairy lardasses. Quinn said that he was being hazed, that he was told he had to come here and ram the fuck out of Avery and that Avery was to bend over and take it in whatever position Davy chose.
Anyway, Avery might choose to service a man he liked, someone with a physique worth admiring. But he did not take watery loads from some nineteen-year-old behemoth who smelled like a load of bread that got left out in the rain, and he did not appreciate his services being assumed. He said that first to Quinn and second on the phone to the head coach at the GHU athletic department. Coach Marshall Shapiro.
Now Quinn was over there in the corner looking chagrined as a toddler, eyes aimed at his feet. He didn’t talk to anyone.
“Hey, y’all, shut up!” Jimmy shouted again and again until they finally fell more or less quiet. Jimmy cleared his throat and spoke to Avery. “Uh, look… So, we heard, like… You were pretty mad ’bout the, you know… hazing.” Jimmy smiled, showing off his dimples. A girl could drown in those dimples, Avery thought. Jimmy flashed his grin like he thought it would get him out of any problem. “We didn’t mean that you had to, y’know… do anything. It wasn’t like… it was just a little thing that got out of control. You know, hazing. Nobody was like… it wasn’t required.”
A few of the other players laughed. Avery crossed his arms over his chest. He felt very small right now, but powerful.
“So, uh… We… I — I, very much, but also we, we need you to call Coach Marshall, and, uh, tell him that we’re okay now. You gotta tell him we apologized and everything’s alright, broh. It’s all good. He won’t stop being, like… he’s been like very shouty, it’s been, you know… Like…” Jimmy blushed like Quinn, as an underhushing arose from the assembled jocks, some of whom played out like they were grabbing each other’s balls and squeezing, which made them silently laugh. That made Avery suspect Coach Marshall had squeezed the shit out of Jimmy’s balls. “Coach Marshall was like… mega-pissed. I mean, you just gotta tell him that, alright? Tell him you accepted our apology.”
“You haven’t apologized,” Avery said.
“Oh, yeah.” Jimmy stripped off his shirt and flexed his muscles in front of Avery’s face. His chest was broad and clean, brightly pale, his six-pack etched, his pecs rippling like a sea in a storm. He got down on his knees as though he was going to propose marriage. “I’m sorry. I apologize for not respecting you and having the… not respect to, uh… I’m an in-grate. I was in-grating. I was ingrated. Ingrating to you. Disrespectfully,” he said. So… I apologize.” Then his eyes lit up. “And Quinn’s a fucking dumbass, I made him run a buncha laps and do this thing… It’s gross, but it’s like… He sucked on my jockstraps for a whole practice-” The players all tittered. “It was in his helmet. It’s cool, he’s cool You’re cool, man. We’re cool. All cool now.” He raised his eyebrows in Avery’s direction.
“Hmm.”
“And, to make up for it,” Jimmy said with a wry grin and a smile. “You can — you don’t got to — but you can, if you want… You can pick one of us, and uh… y’know…” He blushed. “You can do, like… If you want ‘em in ya ass, y’know… Whoever you pick gonna do it. Anyone you want.” He again made his pecs ripple and flexed his six-pack in Avery’s direction. A few guys snorted and snickered at him. Jimmy smiled again. He seemed to think Avery would pick him, presumably because he was the one girls threw themselves at. His body language suggested the picking was just a formality, and it was already a given that Jimmy would be the choice.
Avery smiled. “So you’re going to apologize for assuming I wanted to get it up the ass from a stranger by allowing me to pick the stranger?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Well, yeah. Kinda.” He paused. “Yes. That exactly, that’s what we’re doing. Sorry, is that-?”
“That’s fine,” Avery said, but he rolled his eyes. That seemed like a bad lesson for Coach Marshall to be teaching. But Avery really did want to take it up the ass from someone in this room. A linebacker, in fact, not the quarterback Jimmy. Not the freshman linebacker Quinn.
The entire room was silent. Avery’s heart thumped. These men all looked at him.
Avery already knew who he was going to choose. There was a senior linebacker with pale skin and a massive barrel-shaped frame, kneeling because there were no more chairs available. He was big and brutish in a crude, cavemanish way. He was Gravyboat — his real name was Davy. He looked like the kind of beast that Avery wanted. He was exactly the kind of man Avery wanted most: too big and too raunchy for girls, too hairy, too rough, crude, rude and overwhelmingly massive. His hair was thick and greasy, his chin scruffy, his clothes stained and torn. He didn’t have a six-pack at all, but he wasn’t fat either. He had just the right amount of heft over his powerful body.
“Who you want, huh?”
“He’ll pick Jimmy. Or Raython if he likes black dick, like Kelly-“
“Shut up, broh-“
“Don’t give him ideas, nigga!”
“-jacked me off in the exam room-“
“Fuck you-“
Avery just ignored their arguments. He walked slowly through the crowd, tickling each one. He grabbed their asses and even kissed their biceps as though carefully inspecting each player to see who fit his needs. When a pair of cocky black guys pulled their dicks out together to show off how big they were, Avery gave each one a stroke and nodded.
“Nice ones, sure,” Avery said. He was about to move on, but then he had an idea. “Sword-fight.”
They must not have heard that term, cuz they both looked confused for a moment, then their eyes lit up at the same time. They flopped their limp dicks at each other, laughing and jumping away, then they came closer and did it again as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. A few others did the same — sword-fighting right there in the waiting room — but Avery just moved on.
“Sorry guys, stop by and see me sometime. Come together.” He winked at them, and they both erupted in furious laughter, which made their dicks jiggle like fat baseball bats in an earthquake. Avery moved on down the line. “Don’t stop swordfighting.”
The two black guys — Raython and Easy — laughed and chortled, and they kept their dicks touching. They avoided looking at each other or at Avery after that, they just kept their heads cocked to the side as their fronts jutted towards each other so their limp cocks smushed against each other. Easy and Raython more or less stopped sword-fighting, they watched Avery instead, but they did keep their dicks touching, which Avery appreciated.
But he kept on going, tracing the outline of one handsome stud’s pectoral muscles and even kissing his bare nipple, prompting another outpouring of chatter and laughter from the others. But Avery at last stopped when he reached the one they called Gravyboat, who kneeled in a ratty old t-shirt without sleeves.
“Lift your arm,” Avery said.
Gravyboat furrowed his brow, but did so, emitting a baritone laugh to conceal his anxiety as his teammates chuckled. Avery hadn’t gone for anyone else’s armpit. But Gravyboat was sweaty and unwashed, and Avery could tell that he was going to be fragrant. Avery sniffed his armpit, which was rank and made Avery’s cock throb in his pants. The team erupted in applause, and Gravyboat blushed — it took a lot for him to be embarrassed, but that was enough.
“Gravyboat! Gravyboat! Gravyboat!”
“Do the Gravyboat!”
The “Grayboat” was a dance and an intimidation tactic on the field. Gravyboat had a deep voice befitting his massive size, and when he let out a warcry, it could be heard over the cheering fans in the stadium, at least on the sidelines. He did a shaking-ass dance at the same time. The crowd went wild, always did. He had spent hours practicing it back in high school.
But it felt awkward to do it now, off the field, outside of practice and in front of this tiny flamboyant weirdo. Gravyboat did it because his friends demanded it. He roared and flexed his muscles all at once, cringing because he felt Avery’s feminine fingers stroking him as he did.
It was a joke because Gravyboat did not have a perfect body. Not fat like Quinn, Gravyboat — Davy Mitchell — was just thick. He was perfectly thick, in Avery’s view. The other football players mostly competed on their six-packs. It was only Gravyboat, Quinn and a handful of others who had any meat on their bones.
Gravyboat blushed so red Avery wondered if he was going to pass out, while Avery’s hands explored his chest and the firmness underneath the padding atop his torso. He even licked a trail from Gravyboat’s neck — which Avery had to practically jump up to reach — down to his pecs, feeling his lungs expel that awesome cloud from his cavernous lungs. His anxiety made his pecs and stomach and shoulders and arms all ripple in turn.
“I choose you,” Avery said, just in case it wasn’t obvious. “Will you carry me into the room?”
Gravyboat blushed. Part of why he had adopted the Gravyboat-persona was that he found it difficult to present himself well — he didn’t have the patience to wash and brush his hair, to shave, to wear deodorant every single day, to always shower after a workout, to do his laundry and wear clean clothes. He found that the best way to overcome the teasing and snickering was to get so big and muscular that people were scared of him and to pretend that his behavior was a deliberate choice, that it came with being The Gravyboat.
But he had never been sexy as far as he was concerned. He got girls sometimes, but they never seemed satisfied with him. They told him when to shower (seemingly all the time), they tried to get him to cut his hair, shave his chest, wear beard-oil, which he thought was preposterous, and even cologne, which he hated.
So he blushed beet-red as he scooped Avery up in his arms and carried him into the back of the massage parlor. His friends laughed, clapped and slapped Gravyboat’s plump asscheeks as he walked past them. Avery laughed too, and one of his arms wrapped around Gravyboat’s barrel-shaped body to hug his thickness close.
In the massage room, Gravyboat put Avery down. It was impossibly quiet back here, once the door slammed shut, the carrying-on in the waiting room now sounding distant and faded. Gravyboat’s smile disappeared. Gravyboat wondered if he smelled bad, or if he looked dumb and unfashionable. Why didn’t Avery choose someone who knew how to pick out clothes? He was surprised that Avery had gone for him instead of Jimmy, whom the girls loved and who always wore impeccable clothing, or one of those black tight ends who danced well and smelled like coconut lotion. One of them had an old dude who jerked him off for money all the time. He says — the old dude says — the cum of a young black athlete will make his own dick bigger and his erections last longer.
Maybe that was true. Gravyboat was still not gonna drink a black dude’s cum. He blushed and looked down at his ugly boxish shoes, which he had to buy at a fat dude’s store.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked. “You look nervous. It won’t hurt, I promise. You’ll like it.”
Gravyboat shrugged. “I ain’t never done this.” He blushed again and bit his lip. “I mean… I’ll do it, I don’t care. Ass is ass, right?” He pounded on his chest and made that warcry again — no dance this time, cuz the massage room was small — the sound prompted whooping and cheers from out in the hall, where some of his teammates listened at the door — but now it sounded forced and weak, at least to Gravyboat himself. They weren’t into it. If you do it too much, the crowd loses interest, Gravyboat had learned that. Always leave ’em wanting more.
Avery giggled. He liked Gravyboat’s machismo being inhibited by his anxiety. It was cute. Gravyboat’s hairy body trembled as Avery pulled his shorts down. His crotch smelled strongly, not bad, but it smelled of fresh sweat and old cum. It smelled like the crotch of a man who jacked off a lot.
That was exactly true. Gravyboat did jack himself off a lot. The women threw themselves at Jimmy and Raython, not Gravyboat and Quinn.
He bristled and firmed up as soon as Avery touched his cock. He jiggled and grunted. Not knowing how to react, he stood motionless, like he was at a doctor’s appointment. He opened his eyes wide, arms forming fists that dangled stiffly at his side. He murmured to himself as his dick got rock-hard right away.
“You sure get hard quick. You must be real horny,” Avery said. He smiled.
His cock throbbed in Avery’s grasp. Gravyboat stared at it like it was disobeying him. He gulped and looked at Avery. “I get girls. I had a girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t implying anything,” Avery said. “You have such a big dick. You must have hurt your girlfriend, huh?”
Flattery seemed to help Gravyboat relax. He grunted his acknowledgment as his dick throbbed. It was thick as a coke can, smooth aside from one clear vein running up the undershaft. Avery liked how it pulsated in his grip.
When it was fully hard, Avery put the tip in his mouth. Gravyboat sucked in his breath, which Avery both heard and felt in his cock twinging. Avery giggled around the meat in his mouth, which he licked and slathered spit on. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft.
“Wait, wait,” Gravyboat covered his eyes with one arm. He shifted his weight on his feet.
Avery did not wait right away. He wanted to make sure Gravyboat felt the pleasure of Avery’s cock on his shaft, as Avery slurped and spat up all up over it. Both of Avery’s hands worked it too. When Gravyboat stilled looked too tense, Avery pulled his mouth off it. He kissed it on the piss-slit. “You have a nice cock.” He thwacked it on his own face. It was so thick and heavy it was like a club, but Avery enjoyed the meatiness of it when it slapped against his flesh.
“This is so weird. Raython does it all the time. He has an old guy. White guy. I think he hasn’t said, oh shit, my god, shit, so like, his name is Raython, he’s the one out there with… I don’t know, what, a shirt probably it’s cool but anyway he’s okay, he’s okay, Raython is, what was I saying. Raython Lake. That’s his name. The black guy, I don’t know the white guy’s name. I guess maybe he’s not white, I don’t know. Raython just says he’s ‘my old guy’. He buys him beer and stuff. Shirts.” Gravyboat sounded like a man on the verge of exploding. “Uh-uh. So that’s cool. I’m not asking you to buy me anything! I mean, just, I was sayin’, Raython does it all the time.”
Avery wasn’t listening. He stuck his tongue out and ran it down Grayboat’s shaft, then slurped up some of the spit he left behind. Gravyboat’s voice wavered and broke. He gasped.
Once the taste of salty precum hit Avery’s tongue, he knew Gravyboat was ready for the next step. Avery turned around and bent over. Gravyboat stood perfectly upright, chest as he pretended he wasn’t nervous. He was glad Avery’s ass was smooth and hairless, like a girl’s.
“Oh…” Gravyboat grunted in surprised as his manhood slipped into Avery’s ass. He was expecting it to be uncomfortable — the girls he had fucked in the ass had been small and delicate and unsure about Gravyboat’s size and his willingness to go slow, so those experiences had not been entirely successful. He had never had someone take charge of forcing his uncut cock into their tight asshole before. He just stood there like an idiot, arms flailing in mid-air.
Then he slapped Avery’s asscheek and groaned. He blushed, thinking it was too weird to touch Avery’s ass. But he couldn’t stop himself. It felt so good to spread those cheeks and give himself better access to Avery’s tight hole, which he drilled into inexorably. Avery’s cheeks even jiggled kinda, not exactly like a girl’s but not entirely unlike a girl’s. Gravyboat was glad to not have a girl telling him to slow down every few seconds. He was glad that Avery didn’t even consider backing out because his dick was too big or because his breath smelled like garlic fries.
He had intended to remain like that, standing upright, so he didn’t have to touch Avery. But as his orgasm approached, Gravyboat found himself losing his inhibitions.
“Open that ass up, damn…” His voice was hoarse and monstrous, he thought, and it caused Avery to shudder.
That wasn’t actually his voice that made Avery shudder, it was his cock, sending sparks of sensation up Avery’s spine. He was adept at taking big cocks, but Gravyboat’s was exceptionally thick, and it filled him up in a most delightful way. Avery intended to make loud orgasm sounds to embarrass Gravyboat in front of his friends, but it turned out to feel so good he didn’t have a choice. He made those sounds by instinct, and he cried out for more.
Finally he wrapped one of his broad arms around Avery’s face, and they both went down to the ground. Gravyboat didn’t mind. The idea of rutting on the floor was nasty and raunchy and perfect. Avery was too enthralled by the intense pressure in his ass to even consider the location important.
Gravyboat’s chest rubbed against Avery’s smooth back as he slammed his cock in and out. He was aware of his teammates peering in through the door, shushing each other and running away when they caught a glimpse. Someone even threw something at him, maybe a paper airplane? He was too engrossed in Avery’s ass to go look.
“Ah, fuck!” Gravyboat roared. He pounded away at Avery’s ass, using his entire body to drill Avery into the massage room floor. Avery was only dimly aware of the discomfort and pain that resulted, because his prostate exploded in intense pleasure.
Avery barely even touched his cock before an orgasm erupted within him. He moaned, the sound drowned out by Gravyboat’s baritone bellow. He writhed, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Cum flew into his ass, while Avery shot his own jizz too, onto the floor.
So much cum filled him up that Avery could do little more than lay there and bask in the glory of creamy heat seeping into him. The puddle of cum on the floor from his own load coated his belly.
As he shot his wad, Gravyboat didn’t stop fucking. He kept grunting, the sound breaking, interrupted with moist exhalations as he slathered spit over the back of Avery’s head. He gripped Avery in a tight chokehold, making it hard to breathe.
“Fuck, broh, take it, don’t move, don’t move.” Gravyboat’s voice was plaintive and desperate. His hot breath condensed on Avery’s cheek. “Shit.”
They were both motionless for a moment. Gravyboat’s cock shot another wad of cum, a final jet of heat seeping into Avery’s guts, and Avery felt it trickle out of his ass. It puddled up on the floor of Avery’s massage room.
Then all at once, they both fell limp. Gravyboat landed on top of Avery, plopping there, his dick limpening inside him. Avery was utterly unable to breathe, or tell Gravyboat to get of. He couldn’t even squirm.
He wasn’t upset though.He exulted in the feel of Gravyboat’s muscles enveloping him, the musk of his unwashed body potent now that he was covered in fresh sweat.
“Shit, man.” Gravyboat coughed. He got up, his dick plopping out of Avery’s ass. “Shit… Shit, man.” He took a deep breath.
Avery sat up, heaving for air. He was exhausted. He had never been taken a dick that felt that good. He stood on uneasy legs. “Thanks,” he said weakly.
Gravyboat nodded. His swarthy face was crimson from both embarrassment and exhaustion. He thought if he said anything, his voice might break, so he was quiet. He put his tattered jockstrap on without bothering to clean his cock off.
Jimmy stuck his head in the door, but kept his eyes aimed upward so he didn’t see anything. “Did you bite his head off, Gravyboat?”
“No. He was a perfect gentleman,” Avery said. He smiled at Gravyboat, who walked out carrying his clothes. He wore nothing but that jockstrap, which was soaked to transparency with the fluids that clung to Gravyboat’s cock. Gravyboat sniffled like he didn’t care as his teammates howled and slapped his hairy asscheeks, which were bare, cradled by that jockstrap. Those two black guys, Raython and Easy, were still dick-to-dick because Avery never said they could stop sword-fighting, and they still avoided looking at each other.
Jimmy furrowed his handsomeness in Avery’s direction. “Really? A gentleman?”
Avery nodded. “He was perfect. You can send me men like him anytime. I’ve got plenty of happy endings to give out.”
Kwan is a new barber at a black barbershop, and he’s in for a world of alpha male downlow interracial action! That’s cuz he works with some of the neighborhood’s mightiest, strongest and sexiest alpha male black men.
Can Kwan handle his toughest coworker, the legendary ex-con Ike Skelton?!
He said that the pasivo has to be on his back, with his legs in the air, both because that was similar to a position you might fuck a woman in and because it meant he couldn’t run away.
In truth, his friends would not think less of him for ramrodding a man. That would simply make him an hombre, which was fine. In his culture, men were either hombres who rammed or pasivos who got rammed. It wasn’t bad to be an hombre. That made you a real man, especially if you rammed your pasivo in a hard and cruel way.
Right after being released from prison when he was eighteen, Alboroto’s uncle had told him how a real hombre should ram his pasivo. He said that the pasivo has to be on his back, with his legs in the air, both because that was similar to a position you might fuck a woman in and because it meant he couldn’t run away.
From The Cocky Thug
