men – Page 2 – Mansploitation

The Pilot

Teddy works for a billionaire on a charter flight, but when it turns out to be just him and the pilot sharing a hotel room and a bed, Teddy is in for the alpha-male pilot service experience of his dreams!

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Read the whole thing here!

Teddy was glad to buckle up when the plane glided to the ground at the airstrip in Bucket Hole. He was ready to move on with the plan. This part was easy. The flight took a long time, since this little old charter plane couldn’t go real fast. Teddy’s ass was sore, his legs were tired and his mind was going crazy for lack of stimulation. He was glad to have arrived in the town of Bucket Hole, which was aptly named, as looked like the kind of run-down-company-town without-a-company where you probably couldn’t find anything worth buying, the kind of town that produces nothing but buckets with holes in them.
Bucket Hole wasn’t much of a town, but it had a small dusty airstrip. It was about thirty miles from an oil field, which was the only reason anyone used the airstrip. That airstrip was the only reason Bucket Hole was still a town. When that oil field dried up eventually, the airstrip would be abandoned, and the town of Bucket Hole would fade away like a forgotten film.
The CEO of Blinkendale Energy was Charlie Walthenham, and it was he who had chartered the flight. Mr. Walthenham had arranged for Teddy to bring gourmet food from his country club — the Rockhard Country Club. Serving that food was essentially the only reason to have a flight attendant on the flight, since Mr. Walthenham could serve his own drinks (he merely drank his scotch neat). So he had hired Teddy from the country club to serve as his flight attendant.
Not a big stretch for Teddy, who used to work as an an actual flight attendant and knew well how to serve that food, because that was what he did at the country club every day. This was the same thing, but it came with a free trip to Wyoming.
It hadn’t become apparent until too late that there was literally no reason to go to Bucket Hole except to strike it rich in oil, and there was no chance of Teddy becoming a roughneck. It wasn’t worth what Mr. Walthenham was paying him.
The plane landed amid a cloud of dust on that airstrip. It was going well, Teddy thought, he looked like a real flight attendant. He even managed to look like he dreaded spending the night in this one-horse town. He emphasized his discomfort with the situation in hopes of inspiring Mr. Walthenham to give him a big tip at the end of the weekend. That might make make this whole thing worth the time.
Usually on these kind of small-plane short charter flights, the pilot didn’t wear the typical pilot’s uniform. Usually the flight attendant didn’t either, but Teddy wanted to look as professional as possible. The pilot seemed to have the same idea. He was tall and a bit of redneck, but only in a tasteful way, a slight twang in his voice, no holler, no trace of a trailer park. He was the kind of redneck people can trust, with broad-shoulders that filled out his uniform nicely. His name was Wyatt Kettenhauer, and he had a gorgeous head of raven hair that made Teddy’s heart skip a beat. He looked young, which Teddy thought might turn Mr. Walthenham off, but he did look solid. He exuded competence, and he was as handsome as a politician.
Wyatt even came out once the plane landed and stood there in the cabin next to Teddy. They both held in their breath, standing at attention as Mr. Walthenham waddled fatly off, yelling at some poor soul on his cell phone. Wyatt made eye contact with Teddy, but both stayed at attention like soldiers.
“You had better get it done, asshole, I’m not waiting another day! I want motherfucking results, or I will come down there to St. Louis and ram my foot so far up your ass you could snort coke off my pinkie toe!” Mr. Walthenham strode out, seemingly not noticing Wyatt or Teddy at all.
They waited until he was good and gone. Since the airstrip was so small, that meant waiting until he left the tarmac entirely.
“Phew! I tell you one thing,” Wyatt said, taking off his cap when they were truly away from Mr. Walthenham. “That man is frightening with a capital F and a capital U. E’ry time I land the plane with him on it, I breathe a sigh of relief, cuz I just know he could have me pistol-whipped for makin’ it a bumpy ride.” His Western twang was peal-y like a mockingbird, his voice a slow rumble like a cowboy, which Teddy soon realized he was, underneath that pilot’s uniform. Or at least he had grown up on a ranch and fancied himself a cowboy, right down to the well-worn cowboy hat when he was back at home. “If you don’t mind me, Teddy, my good man, I’m gonna get find some fine slice of womanhood and see if I can’t plow her furrows.”
“Yes, sir.” Teddy was disappointed in both his desire and his metaphor. Teddy wanted to spend time with Wyatt, whose handsome face and alluring stature got Teddy excited. Teddy was a keen appreciator of a well-formed male physiqye, and Wyatt Kettenhauer was an exemplar of the masculine shape.
Teddy left the plane after tidying up and getting it ready for the return trip. Wyatt the pilot headed into the rinky-dink airport, but Teddy hung behind. He didn’t want it to be obvious he was following Wyatt.
In a tiny airstrip like this one and in a tiny town like Bucket Hole, it should be easy, Teddy thought, to not look like a stalker. There was probably only one motel, only one bar (if that), not that many places a ranch-hand floozy might hang out — that was the kind of woman Teddy thought Wyatt was likely to be after. There was no way to hide in a town like this, and there were hardly going to be multiple women available.
Or maybe the place would be crawling with loose women, given the roughnecks that came through on a regular basis en route to that oil field. They no doubt came out on leave with full balls and cooped-up stiffies. Teddy knew the type. As Teddy moseyed to the hotel though, it looked like there was literally nobody in this podunk little burg.
“How many vacancies have you got?” Teddy asked when he came in the front lobby and approached the desk.
“One,” said the waify, bored-looking clerk. He didn’t look at the computer screen.
“I’ll rent it. Is it a single?”
“Yes, sir,” said the clerk.
Teddy nodded. That was good. He was confident Wyatt hadn’t rented a room first, he most likely went straight out to get laid. Men like Wyatt were like that. He wouldn’t even think about a place to stay tonight until he actually needed it. The clerk handed over the key. He didn’t bother to tell Teddy in which direction the room was. Teddy used to be a hotel clerk, so he mentally deducted one star from his rating for this place.
Not that this was the kind of hotel that cared abouts it rating. There was literally no competition. It was either sleep in the hotel or get eaten by a bear, so the clerk’s hospitality only had to be greater than that of a hungry bear.
The room was drab and dreary. It wasn’t dirty, or at least not actively so, but it was hardly clean either. It was coated in a layer of dinge. But at least it didn’t smell like urine or blood, Teddy thought, which sometimes happened in these tiny motels. Once they get a bad stain, it never goes away, because management won’t spend what it takes. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and the bathroom was clean, which was what was most important for Teddy. He could deal with the rest.
He settled back to relax and wait for Wyatt to be visible from his vantage point in front of his room, where he could see much of the main street in this town. The clerk inside the lobby kept watching Teddy, trying to figure out his game.
But Teddy just watched the dullness develop as day turned to night, and the moon’s long darkness spread over the landscape. There was the town’s bar too. Teddy couldn’t make out the name on the sign. After a long time trying to decipher it from this far away, Teddy just googled it.
The Clean Pipe. Sounds like a biker bar, he thought. It didn’t even have a proper website though. Just a Facebook page last updated seven months ago.
He soon saw Wyatt coming out of the bar. He staggered out shouting at someone inside, like he had just gotten in a fight and been kicked out — he hadn’t been in there long enough to get drunk though, or at least not real drunk. He sighed and came towards the motel.
Teddy left the hotel room and waited outside as casually as he could muster. He nodded to Wyatt, who had a visible erection in his tight pilot’s uniform slacks. It bulged against the fabric, and Wyatt gave it a squeeze through his clothes as he walked. He must have gotten in trouble with a woman, Teddy thought. Wyatt went to the clerk in the window, ignoring Teddy.
Soon, Wyatt’s deep voice filtered out into the night-time air. “No vacancies! What are you talking about? No one ever comes to this shit-heel of a town! How could you be full?”
Finally, Wyatt came out with an angry snarl. He glared at Teddy, then his snarl brightened into a smile. He walked over to him. “Hey, did you get a room?”
Teddy nodded.
“Can we share? I couldn’t get one. This one-horse town is down to a half-a-horse, and it’s sickly,” Wyatt said. “There was one girl in that bar and she was a prude. She wouldn’t even talk to me!” He threw his hands in the air, then winced because the motion caused pain in his sensitive cock. His erection appeared to have diminished a bit, but there was still a noticeable bulge in his tight pants.
“There’s only one bed, but we can share,” Teddy said with a casual shrug. He sniffed Wyatt’s breath. No alcohol. “Are you drunk?”
He shook his head. “I’m not drinking tonight. Mr. Walthenham seems like the kinda man who might wake me up in the middle of the night cuz he wants to leave early. I gotta be sober as a Monday morning,” he said. He took a deep breath and looked up and down the main drag of Bucket Hole. “Well, I’m gonna go try to get laid. Nothing personal, but if I can, I’m not sleeping with you tonight. Don’t wait up.” Wyatt paused. “You wanna come with me?”
“No thanks, I’ve got a girlfriend,” Teddy said. He scribbled down his room number and passed it to Wyatt. “Come on in. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Wyatt scoffed like he didn’t get why a girlfriend should stop Teddy, but he accepted it. He headed down the street to see where else there might be some females. Teddy suspected he would have poor luck — in a tiny town like Bucket Hole, there were not likely to be many options as far as nightlife went. That bar he got kicked out of has gotta be the entirey of Bucket Hole’s nightlife. Probably there were more prostitutes when the roughnecks had leave.
But Wyatt was a charter pilot, and he saw the perks of that job as including all the fine women he met throughout the world. Ladies loved pilots. He could talk a woman out of her panties in virtually any city. He’d bedded (women who claimed to be) Saudi princesses, billionaires, Bruce Willis’s daughter, porn stars and supermodels.
But Bucket Hole, Montana, was proving to be difficult. There was no one here.
It was barely an hour after they separated when Wyatt knocked on the motel room door. He pushed right in when Teddy opened the door. He still had his cowboy hat on, and he removed it as he entered, then put it right back on. His cheeks were ruddy, and he chewed on his lips as he fumed.
“Goddamn this town sucks! You know it’s a dry town? Apparently liquor stores are illegal, there’s only one liquor license in town and it’s the bar that just kicked me out.”
“That sucks,” Teddy said. “I thought you weren’t drinking?”
“I’m not! It’s just an observation. No wonder there’s no nightlife here! There’s no minibar in this room either, is there?”
“No sir.”
“Well shit… I guess this is officially the most boring town in North America, huh, Teddy?” he said. He sighed. Then he glanced up at Teddy with a guilty grin. “Or maybe we’ll fool around when the lights go out, you know what they say — cowboys can do it in the dark, it don’t count, yee-haw!” He paused to gauge Teddy’s reaction. “And they say that about pilots too when they ain’t in they home time-zone, shit yeah!”
Teddy laughed along with him. He wasn’t sure how joking Wyatt was. Hopefully not at all.
Both of them settled into Teddy’s room, and Teddy was glad to have a chance to see Wyatt like this: casual, shirtless, brushing his teeth, taking a shower, putting on deodorant even just to go to bed, clipping his toenails. Wyatt talked, mostly about women, the whole time, and he badmouthed Mr. Walthenham, who hired him often but never learned his name. He kept calling him “Ryan Kettleman”.
Eventually, the night dragged on, and they put on a movie, some superhero thriller that seemed poorly edited for tv and didn’t entirely make sense to Teddy. He could barely follow it though, because Wyatt kept talking the whole way. Mainly he commented on the women onscreen and compared them to the women he had slept with. His conclusion was that he got hotter women than this movie starred. It annoyed the piss out of Teddy, who hated people who talked during movies. Wyatt was too handsome to be mad at though.
Finally, the movie was over, and Teddy was already half-asleep as he turned the light out. He could tell Wyatt was restless and didn’t want to go to bed just yet.
Wyatt paced for a moment quietly. He hadn’t gone to bed with neither sex nor alcohol, nor even weed, in a long time. He wasn’t an addict, he thought, but it was difficult to convince himself that he could go to bed horny and sober. It just didn’t feel right. Every time a woman appeared in his mind’s eye, his dick rocketed back to full erection, and Wyatt resumed pacing in the dark hotel room.
Eventually, he did lay down next to Teddy. Wyatt was used to a more comfortable bed than this. He rarely slept at home, as he usually was in hotels all around the world — wherever Mr. Walthenham needed to go — or sometimes in the bed of his latest female conquest.
Once he got under the covers just a few inches from Teddy, however, Wyatt realized he could satisfy his sexual urges as well. He genuinely thought of it as “not counting” in a situation like this, in a tiny town and a cramped motel. In pilot school, everybody had said it doesn’t count if you’re at least two time zones away from home. That meant cheating. It was okay to cheat on a wife if she was at least two time zones away.
But, Wyatt thought, it could apply to messing around “on the downlow”, as the black guys say. It would not be Wyatt’s first time. It would be his first time since becoming a pilot, however. Women threw themselves at pilots. So did men like Teddy.
“Hey, man…” Wyatt whispered, finally breaking the silence in the silentious motel room, the only sound being the whirr of the air conditioner. “You wanna jack off with me?” he asked with confidence, like he already knew the answer.
Which was true. He did know the answer. Wyatt had noticed Teddy checking him out all day, and he knew perfectly well Teddy wanted to swing on his dick. Most male flight attendants were that way.
“Hell yeah. I didn’t know you were into that,” Teddy said, hoping to sound coy instead of naive. His hands flitted over underneath the covers to Wyatt’s muscular chest, and Teddy scooted closer, so he could feel the solid warmth emanating from Wyatt’s body.
“I grew up on a ranch.” Wyatt chuckled dryly. “You know, out there you stick your dick wherever you can find a nice tight hole, ya feel me? Sheep run scared ’round my parts. Not that I ever partook, cuz I had females hanging off e’ry inch I got, ya feel me?” He patted Teddy on the head, and he gently pushed his head closer to Wyatt’s crotch.
“Uh-huh.” Teddy sighed and allowed Wyatt to move his head closer, putting up just a little resistance, like a nice woman would, just enough resistance to let Wyatt know this wasn’t an automatic gimme. Teddy kissed Wyatt on the treasure trail of body hair leading from his flat belly to his dick, and as Teddy moved lower and lower. He resisted Wyatt hurrying him down to his groin. Finally Wyatt’s half-hard dick collided with Teddy’s face. Wyatt let out a twanging moan as his dick touched Teddy’s hand. Teddy gripped that thick shaft and gave it a few strokes, then opened his mouth and kissed it, right on the tip.
Wyatt’s whole body buckled. He whispered “Yee-haw” again and laughed, very quietly, even though there was no way anyone could hear but Teddy. He pushed Teddy’s head lower on his dick.
“Yeah, man, put your mouth on it…”
Finally, Teddy did so, allowing his mouth the envelop Wyatt’s rapidly firming up cock. It pulsated like an alien beast, and his muscular chest rippled beneath Teddy’s fingertips. The taste of his dickshaft was clean and sweet, with a musky after-scent. He liked feeling Wyatt’s rock-hard meat exploring his throat, pushing all the way in until Teddy’s nose nuzzled Wyatt’s pubic hair.
Soon he was rock-hard, his cock throbbing on Teddy’s tongue. Wyatt moaned as he guided Teddy up and down, firmly but gently. Teddy’s tongue slathered spit up and down Wyatt’s rock-hard shaft, and the first few drops of salty, sun-bright precum hit Teddy’s tongue.
Much to Teddy’s surprise, Wyatt intended to return the favor — he assumed a macho pilot and boss like Wyatt would never reciprocate. He leaned down and stroked Teddy’s dick with one hand. It was a slow, lazy stroke, but it got Teddy hard, and soon both men leaked precum onto each other. It was almost, but not quite, a sixty-nine because Wyatt didn’t taste Teddy’s dick —where Wyatt came from, men could jack each other off in exchange for whatever or because they lost a bet, but swallowing a nut was too much. Wyatt wouldn’t do that. He could do almost anything else though. Teddy was not gonna complain.
“Hey, man, can I stick ya?” Wyatt asked, his voice soft and low, aimed directly into Teddy’s ear.
“You gotta gimme a reacharound,” Teddy said, gasping for more. He chased Wyatt’s cock with his mouth, but Wyatt kept moving it out of his way, already getting in position to go up Teddy’s ass, even though Teddy hadn’t agreed yet. Wyatt wasn’t used to anyone telling him no.
“Hell yeah, you oughta be a full-time flight attendant, yessuh. Pilots could use someone with a mouth like you. Women stewardesses are teases these days, I tells yah!” Wyatt said with a loud whoop, which he then muffled. “Sorry, that was loud.”
“No one can hear.” Teddy’s voice was huffy and plaintive, as he was desperate to get Wyatt’s manhood inside him.
“I know… This kinda thing is best done on the hush and in the dark, ya feel me?”
“Yeah…”
Wyatt slid behind Teddy and hefted his dick between his cheeks. Teddy’s asshole tingled, then the tip slid in. Teddy bit his lip as pleasure and pain both enveloped him in equal measure. This was happening faster than he thought it would. Despite the lack of any potential audience, Teddy still swallowed back a moan of pleasure, as sensations sparked up and down his body. Wyatt’s cock slammed into his prostate, both men moving as one as pleasure filled both men’s bodies.
The hum of the air conditioner outside the motel room seemed impossibly loud. Teddy couldn’t hear anything but that and Wyatt’s heavy breathing condensing on the back of his head, as Wyatt’s hands explored Teddy’s smooth chest. The intense pressure overwhelmed him, but gradually loosened with every passing second.
“Sssh… it’s okay,” Wyatt said, his low twang echoing in Teddy’s ear like a banjo. His hands roamed over Teddy’s body and then gripped his dick. A jolt of pleasure shout through Teddy. “I’m inside ya now, son…”
Teddy’s whole body tensed as more of Wyatt’s cock slid in, each centimeter sending a new wave of bliss to wrack his tiny frame. He clenched and bit down. Wyatt began slowly stroking him in sync with the gyrations of his hips. His balls slapped against Teddy’s thighs.
He kissed Teddy on the lips, and their tongues interlocked in Teddy’s mouth. Teddy let out a long, slow moan of pleasure. He couldn’t believe how good this felt. It continued for what felt like forever, and Teddy didn’t want it to end. He cried out and gasped. Wyatt moaned over and over, smiling, glad that he had gotten his rocks off after all, even without a girl. Teddy was probably tighter than any of the women in this town anyway.
Wyatt grunted and his body spasmed. Cum sprayed into Teddy’s ass, great gobs of it that filled him and coated his insides. Some of it dripped out and onto the mattress beneath him. A burst of it seeped into Teddy’s flesh, the creamy heat flowing into him like a river.
“Shit, boy… Hell yeah,” Wyatt said. Spasms of pleasure overwhelmed his body. His free hand tightened into claws that dug into Teddy’s body, while his other hand kept stroking Teddy into an impassioned orgasm. Bliss erupted in Teddy’s body, while Wyatt’s climax turned to a low moan that resonated in Teddy’s ear.
Teddy let out a sigh as he shot his own load into Wyatt’s hand. He felt a slow-burning orgasm that only grew as he came and Wyatt’s dick limpened inside him. Then he took it out. He kissed Teddy on the cheek, where his lips lingered as his hands ran up and down Teddy’s body.
The smell of cum filled the air. Wyatt smiled and pounded on his chest. He flexed his biceps too, as though there was a woman here to impress — of course there was only Teddy, and he didn’t even face the right way to see. Teddy sensed the flexing of his powerful muscles behind his back though, and he rubbed his smoothness on Wyatt’s powerful body.
“Shit…” Wyatt said again with a chuckle. “That was right nice, yessuh. I am sure glad I hooked up with you. You’re a good flight attendant.”
“I’m not even really a flight attendant,” Teddy said with a laugh.
Wyatt shrugged and settled back onto the motel bed. Teddy curled up next to him. He liked the solidity of Wyatt’s muscles and the warmth of his body heat as it suffused over him.
“You’re a good pilot,” Teddy said with a giggle. He snuggled up to Wyatt’s body. “Tomorrow, I might be available in the cargo area during the flight home. Maybe you could sneak back there when the plane’s on autopilot.?”
“That ain’t allowed,” Wyatt said with a shrug. “But if you treat me like that again, son, I’ll do whatevuh you want!”

The Cocky Pimp Bottoms

Jay Bone is a pimp who only lets one man cut his hair… the twinky barber Desmond, who’s also willing to service every inch of Jay bone’s body. But Jay Bone has an interesting offer on Desmond’s birthday, cuz this alpha male pimp is willing to experience a twink on top!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Desmond was glad to see Jay Bone come into his barbershop for two reasons. First of all, it had been a slow day and Desmond could use the tip — Jay Bone was a pimp, which meant he was very particular about who cut his hair. He only accepted Desmond. He was a good tipper, so Desmond was glad to cut his hair. The second reason Desmond was glad to see Jay Bone was that Jay Bone always gave Desmond a swing on his dick after his haircut. His delicious dick made Desmond’s mouth water, and Jay Bone had a powerful body brimming with muscle, along with a handsome face that made the girls come running.
Hence, he was a pimp. Desmond eagerly invited him to sit down in his barber’s chair with the same fervor all his bitches promised to please him.
Jay Bone strode in wearing his powder-blue suit with a pink tie and an azure fedora, like an old-school cabbie’s hat. He was dipping and dapping, walking to his own rhythm. He was tall and stately like a skyscraper, and he commanded attention like a white man with a clipboard. Everybody turned to look at his mug, he got a handsome face but an ugly nose, which somehow accentuated the handsomeness of his face.
Though everyone looked at him, conversation stopped when he entered and didn’t resume until he spoke. That was because he exuded authority like sweat and because he was a Crip. The Cityside Barbershop of Lawndale was not a gang-affiliated business, but it was in a Bloods neighborhood and everyone who worked there, including Desmond, was Bloods-affiliated.
Jay Bone came in all the time. It wasn’t forbidden for a Crip to come into a Bloods barbershop. But it did make all the niggas and homies in the waiting room shush their mugs and avoid looking at him. All except Desmond, in whose chair Jay Bone sat.
“How you doin’, Desmond-wit’-a-Geo? You got a new tattoo, huh, I ain’t seen that one?” Jay Bone always called Desmond Desmond-wit’-a-Geo because Desmond used to have a Chevy Geo, and he stopped to give Jay Bone a ride once. That car had been totaled in an accident two years ago, but Jay Bone was fixated on it — he was the kind of nigga who picked one fact about each person and repeated it often as though it showed that he cared about others. Of course, his inability to update that fact when it changed made him seem like he was incapable of caring about anyone other than himself.
But Desmond was willing to forgive him for all of his faults, as long as he got the chance to swing on that meat once in a while. “Yeah, I just got it a month ago-“
“You the man, Desmond, I only let you cut my hair, nigga. My hair’s too perfect to let any nigga touch it. You’s a fool if you let anyone but a sissy cut yo’ hair. Sissies and bitches, in that order, that’s who know how to cut hair,” he said. He paused thoughtfully. “And Italian men. I dunno what it is ’bout them, they can do it. You know any Italian barbers, Desmond-wit’-a-Geo?”
“No. Well, one, I think but he-” As usual, Jay Bone didn’t let Desmond get a word in. He always took over the conversation like this, asking questions without listening for an answer. He only spoke in monologues.
“Not in Baltimore, course. Them guidos is in Jersey and shit,” Jay Bone said. “We only got Pollacks here. You know about Pollacks? They’s like white people but retarded and uuuh-uuuugly!”
“Uh-huh.” Desmond just got started on the haircut, nodding along with Jay Bone. There was no point in trying to really talk to him. Conversation resumed in the rest of the shop. No one wanted to get on Jay Bone’s bad side, so everyone kept their voices lower than his.
“I got this new bitch, Desmond. You’d like her. She Spanish or some shit, half-Spanish, I think. Like Colombian. Is El Dorado a real place? She might be from El Dorado. She got a nice fat ass. Gonna get you over some time to get me off so she can see it though. She don’t suck a nigga dick worth a damn. Need a fuckin’ map and compass to find it and shit,” Jay Bone said as Desmond cut his hair and nodded along. “Got a mouth like a puppy’s water bowl. You know this nigga need more ‘an that!”
“Sounds like a doll.”
“Yeah, she got ass that don’t quit. She can learn about the blowjobs. That’s teachable. You can’t teach ass, that’s what I always say, nigga.”
“Yeah.”
“That shit is inborn, y’know. Reckon ya get that from yo’ mama. That’s prolly where sissy come from too. When yo’ mama bigger than yo’ daddy,” he said.
“My mom is tiny,” Desmond said. “She-“
“I mean big in spirit,” he said. He glowered at Desmond like he didn’t like to be contradicted.
“Oh, uh… yeah, I guess maybe.” Desmond wrinkled his nose. Jay Bone glared at him and Desmond didn’t want to antagonize him. “She got spirit.”
“Yup. That’s it,” he said as Desmond finished up the haircut. “You busy on Saturday? You can come over and jerk me off, show her how. Gonna have to be early though, she gotta work in the evening. She got a legion of johns and jimmies lookin’ to run up and down that snatch, and you know Jay Bone do provide!”
“Hmm… I’ve got, uh… not plans, exactly, uh… this weekend. It’s my birthday. Technically today, actually,” Desmond said. He was glad to have a subtle way to throw that in there because he thought Jay Bone would give him a bigger tip as a birthday present. It would be grubby to ask.
“Yo’ birthday is today?”
Desmond nodded. He took Jay Bone’s money and a satisfyingly generous tip, then smiled at him, gesturing towards the backroom. Jay Bone nodded and followed him that way. The other barbers and customers were visibly relieved that he was gone, and conversation became louder the moment the door to the backroom shut.
“Happy birthday, nigga.”
“Thanks.”
The back of the Cityside Barbershop was a dusty old storage area, with an office at the far end, next to the door leading to the alley behind the building. The owner — Johnny Cee — strictly forbade anyone from using the office when he wasn’t there, and he had told Desmond on numerous occasions not to use it to jerk niggas off.
But that was where Jay Bone went. That was where he always went. He knew Johnny Cee didn’t want him there, which was precisely why he did it. Johnny Cee didn’t get mad, and he didn’t blame Desmond for it. He knew nobody could tell Jay Bone no.
Not that Desmond wanted to tell him no. As Jay Bone pushed a stack of papers off the sturdy table in one corner of the room, Desmond admired the twisting of his muscles beneath that powder-blue suit. He had a big, broad body with a square jaw and rippling flesh, like a Hollywood-Hercules but dressed like a colorful pimp. When the table was clear he sighed as though having second thoughts about this.
Desmond sunk to his knees. “Is somethin’ wrong, sugar? Lemme show you what’s right…”
“Just thinkin’ some thoughts, lil queer,” Jay Bone said. Then he grunted and frowned at Desmond. “Gonna give you a birthday present, Desmond. You gonna enjoy, cuz of course you will. You game?”
“Uh… for what?” Desmond wondered if he was going to give weed, which Desmond would enjoy, or maybe cocaine, which Desmond would also enjoy but wished he wouldn’t offer. Desmond knew he wouldn’t turn it down though.
It was his birthday weekend, after all.
“Seven minutes, nigga. You get seven minutes in heaven, got it? That’s my birthday present to you. That’s seven birthday presents, really. You keep yo’ mouth shut about dis. You tell people you jerked me off,” he said. He took a deep breath. “But you can have yo’ way wit’ me fo’ seven minutes. I ain’t nevuh been wit’ a nigga… y’know, like that. I ain’t nevuh take dick in the ass. I gave a nigga head once in the joint. Nasty. Don’t tell no one that neither, or I’ll shove yo’ dick down yo’ throat. You gonna love this! Jay Bone got a killer body, all over, dick, ass, balls, shit, his toes is worth a million bucks apiece. Know dat!”
“Wait, so…?”
He scowled and furrowed his eyebrows. “You got seven minutes. You can make me do anything you want fo’ seven minutes. You can plow my ass, make me swallow yo’ dick, whatever you want. Jay Bone is a full-service kinda nigga, y’know. I would give you seven minutes wit’ one of my bitches, but I know you wouldn’t know what to do wit’ ’em,” he said. “My bitches needta be treated propuh! Proper as pandas!” He took out his cell phone and set up the timer.
“Ain’t you gonna take off your clothes?”
“Nah, nigga. That’s part of yo’ seven minutes,” Jay Bone said with a mean grin.
His mind raced. Desmond hurriedly took off his own clothes before Jay Bone was ready with the timer. He blushed, certain he looked like a drooling idiot. But he was glad to have the chance to plow Jay Bone — there was no way anyone would ever believe him anyway, so Desmond had intention of telling anyone.
“Yo’ time starts… now,” Jay Bone said. He put his phone down. This was all happening so fast that Desmond had trouble adjusting. He had a feeling that was part of Jay Bone’s plan — by flummoxing Desmond, he could still give this “present” without giving Desmond the chance to take full advantage of it like he might be able to if he had known this was going to happen.
“Uh… okay, you gotta get down on yo’ knees,” Desmond said, his voice wavering. He wasn’t used to telling alpha males what to do, and this situation felt especially awkward because Jay Bone was more than a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than Desmond. Every fiber of Desmond’s being told him to get down on his knees instead. He was the thin twink, so that’s the position he felt he was “supposed” to be in. Topping Jay Bone felt like a transgression, Desmond thought, whose nervous voice repeated his request, “Get down on yo’ knees, nigga.”
Jay Bone did so. Even on his knees he was much to tall to jerk Desmond’s dick. He had to stoop down even lower than that. He inhaled deeply of Desmond’s dick as though he enjoyed the scent, though when he looked back he wrinkled his nose.
“You smell like coconut, nigga,” he said, over-enunciating like he either hated coconut or loved it. Before Desmond could ask which, pangs of pleasure shot up his body as Jay Bone swallowed his dick. His mouth encircled Desmond’s shaft.
He didn’t do this like someone who had only ever done it once, in prison, Desmond thought. He wasn’t about to say that though, that was a sure way to raise Jay Bone’s massive ire.
The sensation wracking his body was incredible, made all the more intense by the awkwardity of the situation — Jay Bone’s fumbling tongue, his hesitant movements, his scratchy scruffy chin rubbing against Desmond’s flesh. Desmond rumbled and moaned so loud it was audible in the frontroom of the barbershop.
“Yo, Desmond havin’ a good time! Jay Bone must be feedin’ him all kind of birthday meat!”
“Nigga frontin’-!”
“Sit’cha ass down!”
“Jay Bone doin’ it right, Desmond?!”
They wouldn’t be teasing Jay Bone if there was some chance Jay Bone recognized their voices. The men in the front room laughed in a mixture of bravado and anxiety. Though most of them let Desmond jerk them off from time to time, they all tried to keep it more discrete than Jay Bone did. None of them would ever even think about jerking Desmond off instead.
But Jay Bone was doing it, and he wasn’t even hesitant or reluctant. He did it like he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it. He deep-throated Desmond to the root, and he snuck his tongue out to lick Desmond’s shaft, making Desmond shift his weight between his feet and suck on his breath.
“Goddamn, Jay Bone… Holy fuck… who taught you how to do this?” Desmond’s hands clutched Jay Bone’s head, upon which was still balanced his blue fedora. It was much darker than his suit, and Desmond worried he would leave fingerpints on it — no doubt resulting in Jay Bone admonishing him and making him pay to have it drycleaned — so Desmond let go of it right away.
Spit dripped in great gobs down Desmond’s shaft. Jay Bone’s mouth was loud and moist, exactly the way Desmond loved it. He bucked his hips to help Jay Bone swallow every inch of his meat, snaking his dick down Jay Bone’s tight throat.
Desmond was deeply aware of the time ticking away. He saw the timer on Jay Bone’s cell phone display, sitting on the desk in the center of the office. Desmond reached down to undo Jay Bone’s pink tie and take his jacket off.
It was awkward, to say the least. Jay Bone made no effort to make it easy for Desmond, though he didn’t go out of his way to make it difficult. Desmond’s fingers fumbled as he strained to reach Jay Bone’s shirt-buttons, but he eventually managed to get it unbuttoned and off.
Then he shuddered. His knees went weak. His hard cock spasmed, and for the first time, Jay Bone let out an intense moan, making a sound for the first time. It wasn’t clear if it was a moan of disgust or delight now that he tasted precum. It was hot and creamy, and Desmond felt it spewing out into Jay Bone’s mouth.
The precum flowed down his throat. Desmond had never felt himself emit so much, but this was such an awe-inspiring situation that he couldn’t stop himself. The precum was voluminous and thick, and it coated Jay Bone’s tongue.
Desmond gasped and threw his head back. His mind said to move on to anal. He only had five and a half minutes left — had it really only been a minute and a half? But it was tough to tear his cock away from such unimaginable bliss inside Jay Bone’s mouth.
“Okay, uh, take off your pants,” Desmond said. His voice sounded impossibly weak and tinny in the cramped office. Jay Bone sighed and growled. Desmond felt a surge of fear as Jay Bone pulled off and stood, like he might be about to attack Desmond. “I mean… if you want to…”
“It’s yo’ birthday, nigga. I do whatevuh you want,” he said with a grin. “I wanna see why my bitches complain so much about gettin’ stuck in the ass. You got a big dick?”
“Uh… It’s pretty big,” Desmond said. He blushed.
Jay Bone knelt against the table, but again, he was much too tall for that to work. Desmond chuckled and smacked his cheeks to tell him to get down lower. “You’re bending over like I do,” Desmond said. “But I’m shorter than you. We can’t just reverse positions and expect that to work.”
“Alright, lil queer, I get it, I’s pickin’ up what you puttin’ down,” Jay Bone said. He sunk all the way to the ground on his knees, crouched over. He dropped his powder-blue slacks and the silk boxers he always wore, revealing a perfectly plump, smooth brown ass. He sighed and shook his head.
“There you go, that’s good, nigga,” Desmond said. He tried to sound like a deep-voiced thug, like Jay Bone, but that only accentuated how flamboyant and effeminate his actual voice was. Both he and Jay Bone laughed.
Desmond’s instincts said to dive in head-first and lick his ass — Desmond loved giving Jay Bone a rimjob on those rare occasions when he allowed it (he always said he saved rimjobs so he could make his hos do it as punishment, he didn’t want to cheapen it). Besides that, this was a special occasion and Desmond didn’t want to waste it doing something he could talk Jay Bone into anytime. So Desmond grabbed the bottle of lube he kept around for emergencies and got started.
When he saw that there were just barely four minutes left, Desmond got excited. He slathered half a tube of lube on his cock just because he was in too much of a hurry to measure out a smaller amount. The goopy lube dripped onto the floor.
“Damn, calm down, Desmond,” Jay Bone said with a nervous chuckle.
Desmond blushed. “Sorry. You put a time limit on this, I gotta hurry,” he said, and his plaintive tone made Jay Bone laugh again. It was a deep, cocky barrel-laugh, which the men in the frontroom apparently interpreted as some sort of victorious alpha male grunt, and they all hooted and clapped.
Desmond rammed his dick in, and Jay Bone let out a loud, pained growl — which he turned partway through into a grunt, seemingly putting on a show for the folks in the frontroom. Again, they must have heard because they clapped and cheered Desmond on. They all assumed Desmond was bottoming, jerking Jay Bone off or even taking it in the ass. Nobody would have ever even made a joke about Jay Bone bottoming instead.
“Sorry, sorry,” Desmond said. “I didn’t meant to make it hurt.”
“That’s alright. My bitches is whinin’ like hell. You got substantial meat, nigga, and it ain’t that… bad,” he winced on that last word, and twisted his body as Desmond ground his dick into Daddy’s Rico’s ass.
Desmond couldn’t help but giggle. It looked like Jay Bone now understood why his hos complained about getting rammed in the ass. He grunted and his chest heaved.
“You’re loosenin’ up, nigga, it’ll get easier,” Desmond said. He patted Jay Bone on the arm and shuddered. Normally Jay Bone was so strict about touching. He didn’t let Desmond touch most of his body, no grabbing his ass, no tweaking his nipples under the shirt, and no kissing. So Desmond had never really gotten an opportunity to feel those incredible muscles.
The nicest thing about Jay Bone’s body, Desmond thought, was that it wasn’t perfect. He didn’t have a six-pack, though he came close. He had a big thick body, bulging in all the right places, brimming with power, swagger and strength. If he had time, Desmond would have gladly licked him from head to toe like a cat cleaning its kitten.
Then, like a switch had been flicked, Jay Bone changed. His pained grunting changed to an aroused moan, and Desmond could tell even though he couldn’t see that Jay Bone had gotten hard. He smiled. Obviously, he thought, he had discovered the location of Jay Bone’s prostate.
Desmond reached around him and grabbed ahold of his dick. “This is called a reacharound,” Desmond said. “It’s polite to give a reacharound when you plow a nigga in the ass-“
“I ain’t nevuh doin’ that, lil queer. You can stop bringin’ that up right now,” Jay Bone said. “But you go ahead. I like that.” He shook his head and whinnied like a horse, as though he was surprised — and maybe a bit frightened — by how much he enjoyed getting it up behind.
Now that Desmond had found Jay Bone’s prostate, he knew how to make it feel good.
He had never before topped with a man so much bigger than himself, and it was a nice change of pace, even if the positioning was awkward and difficult. The more he rammed back and forth and the more passionately Jay Bone reacted, the more Desmond struggled to hold back his climax.
By the time he felt his orgasm rising, Desmond was on his toes, using both hands to grip Jay Bone’s back and slam his hips down over and over. Luckily he had used so much lube — and Jay Bone was simply a big man — that Desmond slid easily in and out of Jay Bone’s tight ass.
“Damn, nigga, damn damn damn…”
Much to Desmond’s surprise, his own orgasm was interrupted by Jay Bone himself shooting his load. He gave little indication beforehand, as though he was just as shocked as Desmond was. All of a sudden Jay Bone’s cock throbbed and spasmed in Desmond’s hand, and cum sprayed over Desmond’s fingers. It landed in a big creamy clump on the floor.
But still he kept cumming. His massive body bucked and writhed beneath Desmond’s grasp, until eventually Desmond wasn’t on the ground at all. He was born aloft by Jay Bone’s broad back, to which Desmond held on for dear life, grinding his cock into Jay Bone as the seconds tumbled away on the timer.
“Can you turn your head and kiss me?” Desmond asked, his voice low and breathless. His climax bubbled just under the surface.
Jay Bone smiled and did so. Again, it was awkward — he had to strain his head back, and Desmond had to crawl up his shoulders to reach. But he first gave Jay Bone his hand, which dripped with Jay Bone’s own cum.
He gave no hint of hesitation before grabbing Desmond’s wrist with his big meaty hand, and sucking up every drop of his own cum of Desmond’s fingers. He bucked and writhed as though he was both disgusted and aroused by the flavor, and he slurped on Desmond’s hand like he tried to drain it of juices.
“Fifteen seconds left, nigga,” Jay Bone said, his voice tense like he was eager for it to be over. He sighed as he licked the last of his own cum off Desmond’s fingers.
Then he kissed Desmond without a moment’s hesitation. The taste of cum flooded Desmond’s mouth, the smear of semen all over Jay Bone’s face colliding with the sweat that dripped down Desmond’s cheeks. Desmond had never kissed anyone like that.
At last Desmond’s own body erupted in orgasm. “Ah, fuckin’ hell!” he roared as cum sprayed into Jay Bone’s broad ass.
The orgasm lasted for what felt like forever, though judging from the timer, it was more like thirty seconds. The timer went off near the end as Desmond shuddered. The beeping was impossibly loud, resonating in Desmond’s ears as he filled Jay Bone with his load.
“Shit yeah…” Jay Bone muttered. Desmond could do little more than bark and yelp into Jay Bone’s tattooed back.
The most unimaginable pleasure in his life wracked Desmond’s body. He dug his nails into Jay Bone’s meaty muscles, and he licked all the sweat off where it collected between the man’s broad shoulderblades. He writhed there, precariously balance on Jay Bone, for what felt like forever.
His thin twink limbs contorted, and he dug into Jay Bone’s body. Jay Bone just smiled wryly, rolling his eyes as Desmond’s dick jabbed into him over and over. It was a big, thick and creamy load, which dripped out of Jay Bone’s ass and onto the floor between his trunk-like thighs. It clung to his skin and the hair of his crotch.
“Alright, nigga, you done,” Jay Bone said. He flicked the timer off. “Was that seven minutes in heaven?”
“It certainly was.”
Jay Bone let out a long chest-rattling moan. He glared at Desmond like he was mad at him. “You said you was busy on Saturday, right? What about Sunday?”
“Yeah, I’m free.”
“Good. I’m gonna throat you so hard yo’ mama gags,” he said. He bristled and straightened his back like he wanted to recapture his swaggerous mojo now that he had taken dick in the ass. “You can show my new ho how to take it right.”
“Okay,” Desmond said. He was too tired to think about it now, but he thought he would enjoy that.
“I ain’t gonna have no mercy, Desmond, this nigga can ball!” he said, adding an inscrutable hand gesture that involved snapping his fingers. “You know how I do. I plow hard. Know dat!”
“Yeah,” Desmond said with a grin. “You taught me well.”

The Boxer

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

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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

The Trucker Bottoms

Avery loves getting on his knees for alpha male truckers, but this “session” of truck stop mayhem goes in a direction he never saw coming! That’s because the legendary Lionel Telluride insists he would never endure a twink on top… yet that’s exacty what he craves!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery had never been to the Ramwide Truck Stop on Interstate 82. It was a rarely used highway in his experience, so there was little reason for anyone to go to the truck stop there. Avery was not a truck driver, so there was no point at all in him going to a truck stop that was rarely used.
But he felt like doing something new, and he was in a weird, funky mood. He wouldn’t have even minded if there was no one else there. He could just hang out in the woods, smoke the joint in his pocket, then go home. That’s what he would have done in high school. He and his friends met in the woods to smoke a joint after school, but Avery went even when he knew none of his friends would be there. He could do that again here and now. Most days being alone at a truck stop would have been disappointing, but today, he was okay with that.
It was sunshiney today, but it had been raining a lot recently, so he thought maybe that was why he had been in a weird, dark mood. Maybe it was better for there to be no one here.
No one is precisely who he saw. The parking lot was empty except for an old sedan that looked like it might well have been abandoned here for decades, it had literal cobwebs in it. Avery was suddenly struck by a paralyzing feeling of loneliness. There were no people around for maybe a mile or more. He might as well have been lost in the wilderness.
He had been feeling lonely lately, and he’d been considering making changes in his life. Maybe I need to find a girlfriend. He was disappointed in his life lately, and he didn’t know how to get out of the funky rut he found himself in.
He went to the showerhouse. The Ramwide Truck Stop was well-known as a spot where a trucker could get a vending machine sandwich, a nut in a man’s mouth and a shower, not necessarily in that order. Avery could only really help with one of those things. He did enjoy the male physique and the male body, and he enjoyed the things men did with their bodies, but he did have a taste for something besides dropping to his knees and jerking off truckers yet again. Sometimes he did take one up the ass, and he managed to give a lot of truckers rimjobs — which he loved — but most of them were only into head. That was fine with Avery. Fine enough anyway. He greatly adored the male physique, and he didn’t mind, indeed kind of enjoyed, the taste of a masculine man’s dick and jizz.
That was why he came to Ramwide Truck Stops most weekends: because that was where horny, desperate men went.
The showerhouse was a big empty space with a changing area and some showerheads. No one was there. There were not even any puddles — no one had showered here in a long time, the linoleum was bone-dry. It didn’t have that humid stale-steam smell that the more-used showerhouses did at other truck stops. A sock in a corner had green mold growing on it.
No one was around, Avery thought. He wasn’t too disappointed. It was a beautiful day, and he could always go to one of the better truck stops before he went home. He stayed for now though. He enjoyed the liminal nature of the empty truck stop and showerhouse. It looked like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie.
The sound of a truck engine rumbling filled the air. Avery was so used to hearing that that he didn’t quite register it at first — he just let the sound wash over him while he stared at the empty showerhouse.
Then he realized what it meant: somebody was here.
The engine turned off. Avery crept outside cautiously. With only one trucker here, he felt unsafe. Most Ramwide Truck Stops were clogged with people. The people were unsavory, but still, Avery felt sure no one would hurt him in a normal truck stop — they might rip the stereo out of his car when he wasn’t looking or even take the wallet out of his pants while he showered or messed around, but they wouldn’t hurt him.
Here, at this Ramwide Truck Stop, there were no witnesses for miles around. No one could protect Avery here.
The man who stepped out of the truck was handsome and well-formed. He was a short but muscular man with a thick scruffy beard, a dense mop of unkempt hair that extended to his neck, and a powerful barrel-shaped chest. He wore camo pants and a plain wifebeater, beneath which his muscles rippled as he climbed out of the cab of his truck.
The truck stop was silent. The man stood there near his truck, and he loudly sniffed like he was testing the air.
“Piggie! I smells a piggie!” he called out. He glanced at Avery’s car, parked in the front lot, and at the abandoned sedan collecting dust in the back. “Where you at, piggie?”
Avery remained unsure about what he should do, but there was nowhere to hide in the showerhouse, which was clearly the first place the trucker was going to check, so Avery just stepped outside. He blushed as the trucker approached him with a crude sneer.
“Hey, I’m Avery-“
The man rushed forward as though he was going to tackle Avery. Instead he just bent Avery’s head back, stuck his nose in Avery’s mouth and inhaled. Avery could feel the air in his mouth escaping up the trucker’s nostrils, and the man’s bristly beard scratched against Avery’s face.
“You smell like piggie,” the man said.
“Uh… Okay. My name is Avery-“
The man was quiet. He pondered Avery for a long time. “Fine,” he said, as though there was some chance he would have decided that Avery’s name was not fine. He scowled at Avery. “You one of them truck stop booty boys?”
“Uh… yeah,” Avery said. “You want to blow a nut?”
“Yes, I do. Lemme make sure you deserve it,” he said. “Get on your knees and sniff my crotch.”
Avery blushed. He looked around to make sure no one was coming. Then he dove his face into the trucker’s crotch. He felt his thick, soft cock through the fabric of his camo pants. He inhaled loudly. The only scent he got was unclean fabric, with a faint afternote of piss. But the scent was strong and dizzying, and Avery enjoyed it. He gasped and smiled, then licked the fabric of his pants.
“Now sniff my ass,” he said. When Avery hesitated, the trucker sniffled. “Gotta make sure we’s compatible.”
Avery crawled around to the man’s backside. He had a juicy, plump ass that Avery wanted to taste. He didn’t hesitate before ramming his head between those cheeks the best he could without dropping the trucker’s pants. His ass was toned and firm, and it felt perfectly hairy. It smelled a little like rump and a lot like sweaty musk. It made Avery hard in his pants.
“Stay on your knees,” the man said. “My name is Lionel.”
“Nice to meetcha, Lionel,” Avery said.
“I don’t mess with truck stop booty boys,” he said. “Never.”
Avery nodded as though he believed it. Most of the truckers in America told him that right before they let him handle their cock, so he didn’t actually believe it. But he smiled like he was glad Lionel made an exception for him.
He licked his teeth and stayed silent for a long time. Avery blushed and looked down at his feet.
“If you want me to ram you, we’re gonna do it my way,” he said. “Crawl after me.” He walked swiftly away, towards the back of the showerhouse. Avery crawled after him as fast as he could, like a clumsy puppy. The trucker grunted his approval. “That means you don’t get to touch me. I’ll drain my dick down your throat, maybe ram you in the ass. You beg me for it the whole time. If you stop beggin’, I will not stop wreckin’ you. Once we get in there, it ain’t gonna stop til I is satisfied, and I am never satisfied.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not gonna ram you nice either. Don’t bother tellin’ me how to do it in a way that you like, cuz I won’t do it. As far as I’m concerned, if we both enjoy it, then there ain’t no point. I is here to take pleasure from you. Any pleasure you feel is sumpin’ I ain’t yet grab. But I will, and it will hurt, you little bitch. I will take pleasure outta you til God hates you.”
Avery was unsure about the theological validity of that promise, but he had no interest in arguing about it. He just nodded his understanding as he scurried on all fours along the muddy ground. They went behind the showerhouse, not into it.
“I’m gonna ram you in the ass til my dick comes out ya mouth, and even then I’ll keep goin’. I’m gonna make you my gutter bitch. That okay with you?” He barked, following behind Avery crawling forward, and he spat on the ground. “No, don’t tell me. If you don’t like it, just crawl away. I won’t come after you.”
Avery stayed right where he was. Lionel had stopped in the woods. There was a creek nearby, and it appeared that the creek frequently overflowed its banks. They were in a wide, smooth, flat area where the ground was saturated and muddy. Behind Avery and Lionel was the truck stop, and ahead was the highway, but in between was this creek and a small patch of woodland.
“I want you to know that I got a swastika tattooed on my chest,” Lionel said. He sniffed. “That don’t mean nothin’, ‘cept that I needed a little protection in prison. Don’t ask me no questions about it.” Lionel stripped off his shirt, and his powerful, hairy chest made Avery’s heart skip a beat. There was also a brilliant crimson swastika that stretched over his entire chest. That made Avery a little afraid, but he had known more than one white American who had prison tats he didn’t really believe in, so Avery was willing to look the other way. Besides that, he had to admit Lionel’s entire redneck-in-the-muck look was appealing, and it made Avery’s dick hard. It was so exciting to jack off with men, like this, dangerous men who could hurt him badly if they wanted to.
“Okay,” Avery said. He took off his own clothes. He tried to keep his shirt from getting too muddy — he laid it to rest on a clean-ish log. But his body was already covered in mud.
Avery was about to drop to his knees and start stroking, but Lionel stopped him with a firm, callused grip on his shoulders. He growled.
“You promise you won’t try to ram me, right?” He muttered through gritted teeth. He very lightly slapped Avery on the cheek. “I don’t do that! Don’t even try!” He scowled and spat a foul-smelling wad of saliva onto Avery’s face. “Right? I’m not touchin’ ya dick under any circumstances. You don’t get to put anything up my ass. ‘Cept maybe ya tongue. But only if you don’t like it.”
“Right. That’s right. That’s correct. Yes. Uh-huh. Certainly. Absolutely. Sure. Yes. Right. Yes. Absolutely. Uh-huh,” Avery said. Once he started babbling, he couldn’t stop until Lionel literally squeezed Avery’s lips together with one hand.
“Good.” Lionel spat on the ground. He unzipped his camo pants and took his dick out through the fly. It was huge, thick and almost a foot long, maybe even longer. It was veiny and pale as marble. Lionel’s skin was all pale, in between the tattoos, shockingly pale, like it made sense to think he might be freshly released from prison. He obviously didn’t go outside shirtless often, like he was now.
Avery was on the ground on his knees. Lionel’s bare, uncut cock swayed in front of him. There were already a few spatters of mud on it.
Before he could start stroking, however, Lionel sunk to the ground as well. He laid on his belly, lifted his head up and swallowed Avery’s dick so fast Avery didn’t realize what was happening until it had already begun.
“Uh… Okay. Well… I see. Okay…” Avery gasped. A shiver of pleasure ran up Avery’s spine, as his cock hurried to full erection. He was so surprised he could only babble some more. “I didn’t, uh, I didn’t think you were into this…” His hands fluttered above Lionel’s head.
Lionel just noisily continued, ignoring Avery’s words. He deep-throated Avery’s half-hard cock until his nostrils wedged in Avery’s meaty crotch and pubic hair. Once Avery was fully hard, Lionel struggled to get his whole cockshaft in his mouth, but he kept on trying even as he choked and sputtered on it.
His unkempt beard scratched against Avery’s thighs. Avery was such a thin, delicate man that Lionel’s bushy beard was wider than Avery’s entire body. Every time Lionel gagged, his massive muscles all flexed at once.
Since Avery wasn’t very tall and he was still on his knees, Lionel had to get real low to line his mouth up with Avery’s cock. Lionel’s hairy chest and belly were down in the mud, while Avery lowered himself as much as possible, until he just sat on the ground. He sank into the mud as Lionel jerked him off, lips encircling his shaft.
“Oh, god, uh… Lionel…”
Lionel’s hands grasped Avery’s fingers and dragged his hands to the back of his head. Avery’s fingers gripped his greasy hair and held him in place. That gave Avery the leverage to force his dick all the way down Lionel’s gullet. He felt unsure about using Lionel’s head for leverage to throat him down like this, but Lionel had put him in this position, and Avery couldn’t bring himself to stop even if he wanted to. This had only been going on for a minute or so, and already it felt so good Avery was on the verge of blowing his nut.
But then Lionel slapped Avery’s asscheeks. A growl escaped from around the cock in his throat, and he slammed his head as far down as he could on Avery’s cockshaft. He gagged.
It was clear he wanted Avery to throat him down, so Avery took a deep breath and did the best he could. The tiny muscles of his delicate chest writhed as he used every part of his body to hold onto Lionel’s head and ram his dick all the way down his throat. His balls slapped against the dense nest of coarse hairs on Lionel’s chin.
Once he got started, he became more and more excited by it. Avery realized that this was the kind of change he needed — he’d been considering a move, but why move somewhere else where you’ll just jerk off guys at the same kind of truck stops? Given the nature of truckers, it might be the very same guys, demanding blowjobs since their wives don’t put out anymore and they’re too lazy and stinky rutting bastards to have an affair with a girl.
Lionel gagged and choked up profuse spit. His face was red and his eyes teared up as his body cried out for oxygen. He flopped around in the muck, splashing up mud until his hairy body was covered in filth.
To an outside observer, it would have looked like the tiny, delicate-bodied twink, Avery, managed to hold down the powerfully-built bear Lionel, whose muscled back and hairy shoulders writhed as he allowed his throat to be drilled mercilessly. In reality, of course, Avery was too weak to force anything on Lionel.
Avery pulled out only when he felt his orgasm approaching, and he didn’t want to finish this soon. He took a deep breath and jammed his erection over Lionel’s face. Lionel gasped for air, and Avery moaned.
Lionel gasped for air. “You stupid weirdo! You’re gonna have to hold me down and make me squeal like a piggie. Oink, oink, motherfucker.” He opened his mouth again and tried to lick Avery’s dick some more. He looked so hungry and mean that Avery was momentarily afraid he’d bite his cock off, so Avery angled his dick away. Lionel continued to crawl around in the dirt like he was trying to get at it.
“You want me to ram you? In the ass?”
“I want you to make me squeal like a piggie!” he said and rubbed his face between Avery’s asscheeks. “Make me nasty. Make me deserve all this mud and muck. Make me so dirty not even my mama could ever look me in the eye again.”
“Uh…”
But then Lionel bent over. He put his face deep in the mud — right in, so deep that he couldn’t breathe — and stuck his ass in the air. He had big broad, plump cheeks that were covered in fine black hairs. If his ass weren’t also dripping with clumps of mud, Avery might have wanted to lick his crack and his asshole.
Instead he approached Lionel on foot, his boner sticking out from his unkempt crotch. He had to stand on his toes to get his dick into Lionel’s ass, which was so wide Avery’s entire face could have fit between those cheeks. He paused with his dick waiting there in Lionel’s sweaty, moist and muddy asscrack.
“Are you sure you want this?” Avery asked. His heart pounded. He still wasn’t sure he was reading this situation correctly.
Lionel howled. Avery didn’t even realize he howled the word yes until it was complete, and Lionel backed his ass up. His asshole twinkled as its rim rubbed against Avery’s dick, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Lionel shuddered too.
Taking a deep breath, Avery pushed his cock into Lionel’s ass. As soon as the tip entered him, Lionel sharply gasped and threw his head back. He pulled his face out of the mud, which dripped off him in great gobs that plopped back into the mud-pit beneath him.
When Avery didn’t detect resistance, he kept on shoving his dick in deeper and deeper. The mud acted as a lubricant and Avery moaned at the intense sensations rolling through his veins. Avery had never rammed a swastika-clad muscle-heavy redneck’s hairy ass like this.
Though Lionel didn’t try to stop him, Avery did feel some internal resistance. Lionel’s body was tight like a glove. Was he intact? Avery thought probably not, but it did feel tight as a corset Avery threw his head back and moaned, spasms of ecstasy enrobing his body.
He had rarely felt like such a real man. Avery normally serviced big alpha males like Lionel. He occasionally got a handjob, or more often a reacharound, and that was about as much as he could ever expect. True, every once in awhile he’d get to mess around, hump on a bigger man until he made Avery stop. The closest he’d ever come was sticking his dick in the ass of some muscle-bound football player until he scampered away. That had lasted maybe thirty seconds.
Avery grabbed ahold of Lionel’s thick mane, which had been greasy even before he doused his head in mud. Now his skin was so slick it was hard to keep a tight grasp on. Avery held on and rammed back and forth, even as his hands slipped all over Lionel’s slick body.
“Gonna make you squeal like a piggie!” Avery said with a laugh. His voice felt deeper than it had ever been. As he cackled, he rammed his dick all the way in, making Lionel’s ass clench and his spine straighten.
“Soo-eee!” Lionel screamed over and over. Avery tightened his hold on Lionel’s head, while the bigger man rutted and writhed in the mud pit.
Lionel roared in anger, arousal, pain and overwhelming bliss. Pain erupted in his scalp while pleasure exploded in his crotch. Lionel jacked himself off furiously, and his asshole twinkled and clenched as he shot his load onto the ground beneath him.
“Ah hell yeah! Fuck!”
Cum sprayed into the mud beneath him. Lionel’s whole body turned red, and his muscles went hard all at once — so Avery felt like he was gripping a muddy statue — then soft, then hard again before he turned into a limp pile of redneck flesh that collapsed into the muck.
Avery was on top of him, laying on his back. He kissed the sweaty filth of Lionel’s reddish, hairy back. He licked it up, savoring the salt of his sweat and the grimy, earthy flavor of mud. Lionel moaned.
Grinding his hips, Avery moved his cock in a circular motion inside Lionel, who contorted in sync with Avery’s motions. He made sure to ram every inch of Lionel’s insides, and he moaned as well, his open mouth moaning directly into the meat of Lionel’s shoulders.
“Fill me up, bitch!” Lionel said. He spat onto the ground like he hated Avery and was imagining spitting on Avery. His face was ruddy and tense, sensations visibly roiling his body from head to toe, as exquisite bliss wracked both men’s bodies.
Avery was already overwhelmed by the power of his orgasm. His eyes rolled back as he slammed his dick all the way in again. He could feel Lionel’s pulsating prostate beneath the tip of his dick, and Lionel puffed up his chest. He bit his lip and Avery moaned again, even nibbling on Lionel’s flesh.
Finally he was done. Cum sprayed into Lionel’s ass. He shot a thick, dense load, with a texture like the mud that coated both men’s bodies. Avery’s wad filled Lionel’s body with his creamy seed, so much of it seeping into him that it dripped out his ass and into the mud beneath.
Avery stayed there for as long as it took. Every few seconds he made a rough oinking sound, and Lionel did likewise, with a reedy, exhausted tenor to his baritone voice, as a few final jizzwads spurted from both men’s manhoods. Avery waited until every last drop of cum had escaped from his dick.
Then he pulled away, and his cock slipped out of Lionel’s ass. He took a deep breath. He felt like a conquering champion, and he even pumped his biceps though he knew they looked like pale matchsticks.
His powerful feelings only lasted a second. Then he was overwhelmed by exhaustion, and a little fear. His knees buckled and he nearly collapsed.
“You stay here,” Lionel said. “I don’t wanna let some dude watch me shower.” He stood in front of Avery, his bare dick swinging between his legs. He grabbed up all his muddy clothes and walked away. “You stay here in the mud and you keep on making oinking noises like the little cum-piggie you is.”
Avery was still too dazed by his orgasm and his uncertainty around this situation to respond. He just nodded. He let out a tired, half-hearted oink.
“And if you even think about putting your dick inside me, I will come back here and rip your head off, you bastard,” Lionel said as he walked away. “I don’t do that. Nobody can make me do that!”
Avery stayed there in the dirt for a long time, feeling mud and assjuice drip off him. “Okay,” he said in response to Lionel, who was long gone, no doubt already in the shower. By the time Avery was able to take a deep breath and rise to his feet, he could hear Lionel’s truck engine start up again.
When he walked on uneasy legs around the corner, he saw Lionel’s truck drive away. Avery waved, but Lionel ignored him.
“Well,” Avery said out loud but aimed at no one in particular. “This is my new favorite truck stop. I’ll be back here again.”

The Gigolo

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 now 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.

The Frat Boy Bottoms

When Avery attends a college party, he never thought he’d get to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with a studly frat bro named Chad. But not only does that happen, Chad is willing to bend over and take it however Avery wants to give it, as long as Avery puts in a good word with a woman. That gives Avery an incredible opportunity to explore the world of Twink on Top!

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Read the whole thing here!

Avery came to the Omega Omicron Tau party with Claire Quentin, who was possibly the hottest girl in the entire nursing college. She knew it too. Men reacted like cartoon dogs when a pretty girl-dog walks by and their dog-jaw literally drops to the ground while their dog-heart pounds out of their chest. The frat boys blushed as they stared at her beautiful body and sweet face. Her body parts jiggled in a most delightful way with every step she took, like a sultry stack of jello. Avery sighed and beat back his jealousy.
They were all young enough that the genders didn’t mix too much once the party began. Everyone was too awkward for that. The couples danced together, and eventually made their way upstairs or into the pantry to make out. Meanwhile the single boys remained in their own little huddle, drinking, daring each other to drink more and insulting each other’s ability to hold their alcohol. The single girls danced and giggled with each other, sneaking glances at the boys whenever they thought no one was looking.
“Hey, Lisa Anne, which one do you think is cutest?”
“Chad.” Lisa Anne blushed and giggled.
“Chad,” said Brenda, without even being asked. Everyone laughed as the boys glanced over, especially Chad, who seemed to have heard that the girls were talking about him. He tried — and failed — to look like he was not eavesdropping.
It was only Avery who felt equally at home among the women and the boys. He smiled to Chad. “I was just telling these total sluts what a hottie you were.” Chad turned bright red even as he forced a cocky smile on his face. “I’m on your side, Chad,” Avery said and made a mock black-power salute.
Avery and the other girls continued to drink daiquiris and sneak glances at the boys, especially Chad. Chad was a square-jawed all-American type, with blond hair and a perfect little nose. He was muscular and athletic, and he was rumored to have a giant dick. That was the only thing Avery could think about every time he saw Chad. He didn’t know if it was true, but he hoped it was. Chad kind of moved like he had a big dick.
“Seven Minutes in Heaven! Remember that?” Lisa Anne asked, snapping Avery back to reality. He enjoyed watching Chad’s neck muscles writhe as he chugged a beer to the chanting and whoops of his buddies.
“Ohmigod, Lisa Anne that is such a good idea! I haven’t played that since in forever!”
“Boys, do you want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?!” The girls laughed as the boys hesitated, then agreed all at once — none of them wanted to seem like the loser who didn’t want to play along. There were more fraternity brothers from the university than sorority sisters from the nursing college at this party, even though it was a sorority party. That was simply because GHU was much bigger than the women’s nursing college.
Not that there were too many men for Avery. He greatly appreciated the male form and would have been fine with no women at all. More than fine. Well, without women, there’d be no way to get the men to play Seven Minutes in Heaven. Frat boys will do anything for the chance to bang a sorority girl. So Avery did find women useful in that sense.
They all sat in a circle, while Lisa Anne found an empty beer bottle. There were only four closets in the house, which was going to limit the game. The whole point of Seven Minutes in Heaven was that they needed to have some privacy. So only four pairs were going to be able to play at once.
Avery felt a twinge of awkwardness. He hung back, not quite in the circle but not out of it either. He wasn’t sure at first if they would even want to include him. He wasn’t a student at GHU, he just lived near the campus and hung out there often.
“C’mon, Avery, the boys will be good sports about it. If the bottle points to you… They’ll follow the rules,” Lisa Anne said, her cheeks turning red as she giggled with Claire. “Right, boys? Us girls will go in a closet with each other if that’s what the bottle says.”
None of them spoke at first. Then one of the frat boys, Nail, grumbled, “Yeah fine.”
Avery wondered what would happen if he really did end up in a closet with a girl. Would he be able to handle it? They sat alternating genders. Avery kind of wished he hadn’t agreed to play, but he desperately wanted a chance to spend seven minutes in heaven with one of these guys. One in particular — Chad, with the dick large enough to have its own rumor mill.
Lisa Anne spun first since it was her idea to play the game. The bottle pointed to Nail, who was cute and well-muscled, with a perfectly coiffed hairdo. He beamed broadly, and breathed an audible sigh of relief that he ended up with hot blonde Lisa Anne and not Avery or the fat chick. Lisa Anne squealed with delight and scurried off to the front closet with him.
Chad sat next to Lisa Anne, so it was his turn to spin next. He watched Claire, the sexy chick in a slutty dress, as though he could will the bottle to point to her. She was so pretty few of the boys ever looked away from her. They were like puppies watching a can of dog food get opened.
Since Claire sat next to Avery, he and Chad both made a hopeful face when the bottle slowed down in that direction.
But then it landed on Avery.
It took the circle of drunken college students a few moments to realize what had happened, then they all lapsed into squeals of laughter. The girls giggled and clutched each other, while the boys slapped their own thighs, falling over each other in exaggerated and drunken laughter.
Chad blushed but nodded dourly. His broad shoulders twitched. He glanced at Claire as though hoping she would give him permission to say no. But she just giggled and hid her face in her best friend’s arms. He walked towards the closet in the hallway, trembling though he tried to hide it with a cocky, heavy-footed strut.
“Wait,” Avery said, flipping his limp wrist in Chad’s direction. “Aren’t you going to carry me across the threshold?”
Chad’s face turned an even brighter cranberry red, as the assembled partygoers erupted in whoops and catcalls. But he looked past Avery to the girls, especially Claire, and whatever he saw there apparently suggested he should do whatever it took to keep her laughing. Chad stripped off his shirt, revealing a chest that was even more sculpted than Avery had thought, and he plastered on a big fake smile. There were thick tufts of hair over his bulging pecs, and his muscles roiled with anxiety.
It all happened so fast, and before Avery realized that his joke worked, Chad had swept him up in his arms. Avery swooned, exaggerating his reaction, though there was a big kernel of truth in his squeals of desire that he blurted out like some romance novel heroine. His face nuzzled those iron-hard bulging biceps as Chad squeezed him into the tiny closet at the end of the hall.
In the end, there was simply no way to carry someone across that particular threshold. Chad had to put Avery down on his feet and they crammed into the tiny closet. Avery shut the door behind him, then took out his cell phone. He set the timer for seven minutes (and then when Chad looked away, Avery added another thirty seconds).
“You don’t have to do anything,” Avery said, disappointed in himself for saying it. But he’d feel bad pawing all over Chad if he didn’t want to do it. Just being in his arms for a few seconds had been thrilling enough.
Well, not enough. But you know, Avery could live with it.
Chad breathed a sigh of relief. “Look…” he said, the anxiety evident even in the dimly lit closet. “I’ll do whatever you want, if you can get Claire to hook up with me.”
“What?”
“Put in a good word for me. Tell her I’m cool. She listens to you,” he said. “I’ll let you jerk me off or whatever if you want.”
“Other way around, big guy,” Avery said. He meant it as a joke as he said it, but he realized even before he had finished speaking that Chad was more comfortable with this than Avery had assumed. He was embarrassed about it in front of his friends, but now that they were in the closet alone, he didn’t seem to mind Avery’s hands clutching his toned torso. Avery tweaked his nipples and let his fingers roam up and down Chad’s perfect chest and torso.
“What?” He had that dumb-frat-boy look on his darkened face. Avery kissed him on the neck, and his muscles bristled, tensing beneath Avery’s grasp.
Swallow his dick, Chad! You’ll love how it tastes!
Do it, broh!
The other frat boys laughed at each other as they catcalled to Chad, who just rolled his eyes and ignored them.
“I wanna be on top,” Avery said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. In truth, he would have jumped at the chance to jerk off Chad or even just tweak his nipples once. But he was drunk enough to ask for more than that, and he got the impression Chad would do anything for a chance to get laid by Claire, so Avery thought he might as well shoot for the moon.
“You want…?”
“I won’t tell anyone. I’ll tell them I just jacked you off,” Avery said. “They’ll never know. But I can get Claire to go out with you.”
“Really?”
“I can’t promise she’ll put out. But if you take her to that French restaurant on Market, and you don’t ask her for a blowjob, she’ll probably at least give you a handie,” Avery said. “If you’re not pushy, she’ll give up the pussy on date three.”
“Really?!”
Avery nodded. “She’s told me her schedule. She doesn’t like pushy guys. You gotta pretend you don’t care if she puts out or not.”
“Oh,” he said like that was an impossible request.
“So come on,” Avery said. “You’re really gonna give it up? I’ll put in the world’s best word for you with her. I’ll tell her you saved my cat.”
“Is that a metaphor?”
“What? No, I have an actual cat. I’ll tell her it ran away and you grabbed it right before a car ran over it. No, a truck, a truck almost ran over it,” Avery said. Then he thought for a moment. “Wait, no, a truck did run over it, a truck driven by a greasy redneck who didn’t notice because he was distracted catcalling a girl. You rescued it and brought it to a vet and paid for emergency treatment. Then you brought it back to me. Her name is Buttfucker, by the way.”
“Your cat’s name is Buttfucker?”
“Long story.”
“I don’t have enough money to pay for emergency vet surgery-“
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart,” Avery said, hugging his big dumb chest close. “The cat wasn’t actually run over by a truck. If she asks, you don’t have money because you spent it all on surgery. She’ll believe that.”
“Oh, yeah, good idea,” he said.
“I know. Boys are so dumb. You were probably planning on taking her to Olive Garden or something.”
“What’s wrong with Olive Garden?”
“Taking a girl to Olive Garden is kinda like saying you’re such a slut I don’t need to woo you at all, but since I’m a gentleman, I’ll buy you a boatload of shit-covered carbs in the hopes of making you too tired to bother saying no. It’s not a romantic place, Chad. Don’t ever take a girl to Olive Garden. You’re better off giving her a few slices of buttered bread and a glass of tap water.”
“Wow, geez, is that what went wrong with Anne?”
“Anne Slattery, from Beta Kappa Tau?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that really where you took her? Ohmigod, yes, that’s a problem, that’s where you went wrong. She has class, Chad, she’s from Connecticut. You can’t take someone like that to Olive Garden. Egads,” Avery said, “What do they teach you boys in school?”
“Chemistry,” he said with a long low sigh of regret.
Avery rammed his hands down Chad’s pants and shivered with delight as he felt the frat boy’s limp cock dangling in the humid jungle of his crotch. It was just as big as they said, and its meaty thickness gave Avery a startlingly intense wave of desire. Avery gave it a squeeze as he used his other hand to undo Chad’s pants.
Chad grimaced but did the same. He pushed his hand into Avery’s pants and wrinkled his nose as he gave Avery’s cock a limp, lifeless stroke. Avery didn’t mind that so much. His awkward fumbling was half the attraction, Avery thought, and it more than made up for his awkward technique.
“So, uh, do I just… get on my knees?” Chad asked.
“Of course. Haven’t you ever had a blowjob?”
“I didn’t know if guys did it differently,” Chad said. He slowly sunk to his knees as he undid Avery’s belt. He pulled down his designer underwear and looked away as Avery’s dick twitched and spasmed in front of his face. His hot breath condensed on the shaft. “You promise you’ll tell her I’m a good guy?”
“Baby, I’ll talk you up so good she’ll marry you,” Avery said. He put his hands on his hips, heart pounding — he never thought Seven Minutes in Heaven would be this heavenly. A full minute was already gone.
A part of Avery still thought Chad would back out right up until he held his breath, opened his mouth and swallowed Avery’s dick. He gagged as soon as it hit the back of his throat, but he didn’t stop. He was determined to get the whole thing in his mouth.
You can hold him down and ram him, Avery! We’ll all back you up, Chad was dressed like a girl. He’s been totally begging for it all night! The boys who hadn’t been chosen in the game laughed as though this was the funniest thing they had ever heard. Chad blushed in the dark. He loves it in the ass, okay? He shoves everything up there: carrots, dicks, dick-shaped carrots, a manual on carving carrots into dicks, he’ll take anything up the ass!
Yeah, he loves being fisted! Absolutely loves it! And when he says no, that’s his way of saying ‘fist me harder’!
His tongue slathered spit up and down the shaft, sending waves of sensation up Avery’s spine. Avery gripped his broad shoulders, holding him tight. His knees went weak from a combination of pleasure and anxious relief that it had begun. He reached down to caress Chad’s strapping back muscles.
That felt so good Avery couldn’t help but moan. His voice wavered, and he held onto Chad’s powerful body for support. Chad seemingly didn’t realize how good he was at servicing Avery’s cock — men were always better at that than women because they have the equipment and know how to make it feel good. Chad didn’t know enough to know he could do it badly. His tongue battered Avery’s cock, and Chad’s big mitts gripped Avery by the smoothness of his pale asscheeks.
“Can I ram you?” Avery asked, holding his breath. He assumed Chad would say no, but he felt he had to ask. He could already tell that Chad had a perfectly firm pair of asscheeks, and normally Avery would just ask if he could give him a rimjob. Chad had a very rimjobbable ass. But since Chad seemed to be willing to bottom, Avery figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.
Chad pulled off his dick and hesitated. “I dunno,” he said. “I don’t like the taste of cock, so that’d be… But won’t that hurt? I don’t have any lube with me. Do you just stick it in?”
Avery shrugged. “I can provide the lube. I know how to do it.”
“You carry lube with you?”
“I’ll use nature’s lube,” Avery said with a giggle. He stuck his tongue out and licked the air, miming out a rimjob.
“Really?” Chad said with a sick smile. “You’ll lick my ass?”
Avery nodded. “You ever had a rimjob?”
“Only black guys ever get rimjobs,” Chad said. Then he stammered as though he hadn’t mean to say that. “I mean… The only two guys I know who ever got a rimjob are both black. It’s no big deal.” He excitedly bent over, gripping the door handle and spreading his asscheeks by pulling his legs far apart. “Not in a racist way. Just, girls give black guys rimjobs more than white guys.”
Oh…,” Avery said. He had no idea that that was true. He’d have to ask his female friends wht that is. “There’s so much I don’t know about girls. It’s a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, and smelling of fish tacos.” He sunk to his knees and dove face-first into Chad’s ass. His cheeks were just as firm as Avery had imagined, and his powerful thighs were tensed tight. Chad’s whole body was tight right now, as both anxiety and arousal kept him flexing hard.
Avery’s tongue ran all the way up and down the crack first, shuddering as he ran overtop that grimy tight hole. Avery loved to give rimjobs to men with intact asses, so he had to really push to get his tongue in there. Chad’s muscles rippled when his tongue passed the rim and teased his sensitive prostate. His ass tasted clean too, like cheap soap and the scrubbed linoleum of a group shower, a little bit of the scent of sweat-soaked elastic seeping into Avery’s nostrils from the edges of his ass, where the straps of the jockstrap he often wore would be.
He flicked his tongue in, which made Chad yelp as a twinge of pleasure — and maybe a bit of pain too — ran up his spine. But Avery was inexorable, lapping at the beautiful brown hole until he could easily get his entire tongue in there.
Then Avery stood. Chad shuddered again in anticipation as Avery spat into his palm, then used that hand to cover his own dick in spit. When it was good and slick, Avery wedged it in between Chad’s cheek and shoved the tip in before he could tighten his ass all over again.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked when Chad threw his head back and let out a hushed howl.
“Yeah…” Chad said, his voice trailing off. He panted as Avery’s dick slid in bit by bit. “We only got like two minutes left. Can you cum that quickly?”
“With an ass like that, I could cum in ten seconds if I was going for speed,” Avery said with a smile. He humped slowly at first, gradually building up speed when Chad didn’t complain too much. He did wince and grimace, but there was a surprised pleasurable tone to his voice — it didn’t hurt as bad as he had thought it would, and a part of him exulted in his prostate’s sensitivity sending shockwaves through his system.
Avery’s orgasm began almost immediately. He wanted to slow himself down, but he knew Chad would back out as soon as the seven (and a half) minutes were up. So he kept himself going even as he shot his load embarrassingly quickly. Huge gobs of it flooded Charlie’s body, more than Avery had ever shot before.
But not before experiencing such intense pleasure that Avery wondered if frat boy ass would forever be ruined for him. No other man’s ass would ever be as tight and perfect, quivering like a bowl full of jelly, as Chad’s. His asshole clenched around Avery’s dick as he moaned, then bit his lip to avoid making too much noise. Both him and Avery struggled not to cry out loud.
They both groaned. Luckily it sounded like the party had moved to one of the other closets, where they listened and giggled at whichever couple was in there. Chad’s face was bright red as he closed his eyes, trying to take every inch of Avery’s dick. Each thrust into his ass sent a spurt of pain through Chad’s body and an explosion of pleasure through Avery’s.
Finally the end came, and Avery felt a twinge of regret as cum flowed from his dick — he wished he had had more time within Chad’s plump, juicy ass. He squirmed, spraying his load over every inch of Chad’s insides. He shivered with desire as intense pleasure rocketed up and down his body. It was so intense his fingers tightened into claws that ripped at Chad’s smooth back.
It continued for what felt like forever. Avery’s orgasm seemed to be more than seven and a half minutes in itself, but the alarm didn’t go off. He filled Chad up with his seed and stayed there, still, savoring the feel of Chad’s ass tightening up around his dick. Cum dripped down between Chad’s thighs. Every time either one of them moved it sent a whole new wave of sensations to wrack both men’s bodies.
Chad groaned and pulled off. He gasped as his ass emptied, and he breathed deeply. He was relieved when he sunk slowly to the ground on weakened knees. Then he winced when he put weight on his aching ass. He rolled onto his side and struggled to his feet.
“There, there, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Avery asked.
Chad shook his head. “It hurt,” he said. “A lot. But no. It wasn’t that bad.” He blushed intensely. “It did hurt though.”
“It always hurts the first time. It’ll feel better next time.”
“There is definitely not ever gonna be a next time,” Chad said, his voice suddenly hostile. He glared at Avery. “I’m not doing this again, and you better follow through.”
“I will, I will, I promise,” Avery said. He pulled out his cell phone, just seconds before the seven-minute alarm he had set went off. “I’m texting her now. I’ll tell her you have a fantastic dick.” Though a part of him wanted to brag about what happened, he knew that if he followed through and Chad ended up getting laid, the other frat boys would find out. Chad would probably just tell them that he allowed Avery to jack him off, but Avery was alright with that — he would gladly jack off every single frat boy in this house right now if they’d let him.
You two done making out in there? I’m pretty sure it’s been seven minutes. That was Lisa Anne’s voice, outside the closet.
Avery opened the door and smiled. They were both dressed now. It smelled like sex in the closet, but he didn’t think Lisa Anne noticed. It smelled strongly of beer outside the closet, which probably overpowered the semeny scent inside.
“Yeah, we’re done,” Chad said. He pumped his biceps and held his shirt in his hands as he flexed his pecs. Lisa Anne swooned, blushed and tried to hide how aroused she was. Chad gently pushed Avery out of the way. “He got fresh, but I gave him seven minutes to remember.”
Before Chad could react, Avery lowered his head and sucked on his left nipple. His pec was hard like a volleyball, which made Avery want to plow him all over again. Chad’s eyes bugged out, and Avery pulled away.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” Avery said, breathlessly exaggerating how tired he was, as though being in Chad’s presence had exhausted him. He collapsed into Lisa Anne’s arms as they all hurried back to the main room.
The circle had reformed. The bottle was in play, and Avery sat down, getting ready for his second go. He smiled and glanced around at all the frat boys, wondering which one he would get next.
This party, he thought, was turning out better than he ever thought it would be.

The Fat Jock Bottoms

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

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

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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

The Tennis Pro

Rob helps a handsome tennis pro sneak around with a married woman, and in exchange Rob gets to swing on his throbbing alpha-male meat! Can Rob get away with this scheme and with a taste of this muscular ladysman’s masculine musk?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“The profit predictions for the Canal Street location aren’t as good, that’s the only reason I was hesitant,” said Clement. “But let me show you what the business analyst said about Garraty Avenue. It’s got real potential. There’s no gas stations within four miles, and it gets plenty of traffic. It’s near the community college.”
“Oh, that’s fascinating,” Rob lied. He disliked Clement quite a bit, but that wasn’t really a problem for him — he didn’t want to spend time with him at all. He was just doing this because it helped him reach his ultimate goal: Gabe Willcaster. Rob could already smell the stink of Gabe’s tennis gear.
Not literally. Rob was nowhere’s near Gabe Willcaster. He was in a cheesy “Pennsylvania Dutch” restaurant in Connecticut with the portly banker Clement Tale.
“Have you given any thought to per-gallon tolling versus sunk tanks?” Clement said. “Because sunk tanks are a better way to go in the long-term. We can get you a great deal on a building company too. It takes longer, but that’s just early time, you can get that back on less maintenance over the life of your gas station.”
“Tell me more,” Rob said. It took all of his concentration to avoid rolling his eyes.
But he couldn’t do that because Clement Tale had to think that Rob was for real. Rob was pretending to be interested in opening a gas station here in Orchard Range, Connecticut. He had no desire to do that. It seemed like a stupid idea. But Clement was trying to talk him into it because he was a banker, and that was what bankers did.
And anyway, Rob’s father was strongly encouraging him — requiring him — yelling at him repeatedly about it and sending him nasty emails — to start a business. He wanted to encourage an entrepreneurial spirit.
“How many employees were you going to hire?” Clement asked, and he really seemed like he wanted to know.
Rob thought he might fall asleep any moment now. This was so boring. How do people fall in love with boring fucks like Clement Tale?
Someone had fallen in love with him. Her name was Jessica, and Rob knew her well. She had genuinely loved her husband for a long time, and he had given her five wonderful children, all of them now grown. Clement had been cheating on her for years, and his mistress loved him too. Women were mystifying. What on earth could they have seen in him? He was sorta vaguely handsome in a generic older man sort of way. Not sexy certainly. Stately. Elegantly pleasant to look at.
He was rich. Was that really all women cared about? They stopped listening after they heard the word ‘banker’.
Who knows the ways of women? Not Rob. In any case, Clement had a wife who loved him and a mistress who loved him and actually a couple of spurned lovers who still loved him too. Mystifying but true. Jessica — that’s the wife — knew about the mistresses. Rob had encouraged her to sleep around too. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose.
So Jessica was having an affair with a tennis pro named Gabe, and that was where Rob came in.
Rob had been lusting for Gabe for years. When he finished with his silly distraction — that meeting with Clement was just to distract him so Gabe could go out on a date with the man’s wife — Rob went right back to the tennis club. By then, Jessica would be gone, and Gabe would have some free time before his next lesson.
He was a dark-haired, swarthy young man with a head of curly brown hair, sterling cheekbones and dimples that went out to here. He had a thick voice too, like his throat had been marinated in sherry. He was broad-chested and strong without being muscular, and smooth yet furry, charming, and he had a reputation — among the staff at the Rockhard Country Club — for seducing women.
Especially upper-class women.
That was why Gabe was dating both Jessica and — unknown to either of them — her daughter, Karen. Not to mention Mrs. Fletcher. And he had never broken up with Mrs. O’Connor either, he thought with a grin.
Gabe was exhausted after his date with Jessica. He spent hours with her, speaking sweetly, kissing her on the neck. She paid for dinner, of course — Gabe didn’t make much money — and she had bought him a shirt he liked, and she had even paid for his health insurance — she primly declared that it was a charitable donation and would be written off on her taxes. Gabe was pretty sure Jessica had no idea what that meant or how to do it. Her husband was a banker, of course he would be the one to do their taxes, or more likely hires an accountant.
She ran her fingers through his hair, and she swooned in his arms. Gabe loved making women feel like that, so he could them purring with contentment in his arms. He loved that he could make Jessica feel like that, and her daughter Karen — who was going out with him tomorrow night — and a bevy of other women.
Gabe whistled on his way back to the country club. He had met Jessica there, because he didn’t want to go to her house and be seen by her neighbors, family or butler, and she didn’t want to come to his house for the same reason — silly delicate Jessica actually thought Gabe was wealthy enough to have a butler and neighbors who gave a crap about whether or not Gabe was seeing a married woman.
Since he hadn’t gone home since finishing work, Gabe was still dressed for tennis, and his things were in his cabana. He wore short white shorts and a polo shirt that showed off the smattering of hair on his chest. The country club assigned him the cabana for “work” — he had put the bed in it himself, and he had wired it to play romantic tango music and he had even installed a little vibrating machine on the bed.
“Hey,” said Rob, sidling up next to him as Gabe unlocked his cabana. Gabe had to put down the tennis racket to get his key in the lock.
“Oh shit, there you are, hey, Rob,” Gabe said with a nervous chuckle. He sucked in his breath. He was both eager to get this over with and a little reluctant to do it right now — he’d been hoping to get in Jessica’s panties all night. That didn’t happen, it was just a date at a discrete restaurant.
“How’d it go?”
“Ah… It was a bust. Thanks for distracting Clement though,” Gabe said with a sigh. He went into his cabana and let Rob in behind him. The night was chilly, but the cabana was warm and stuffy, humid, like a blanket that smelled a little of male sweat, a little of sex and a whole lot of cologne.
Gabe wrinkled his nose and lit a scented candle, making the whole cabana smell of “elderberry sunshine” instead. He sighed.
“Oh no shit, she wouldn’t bang you?”
“You don’t have to be crude,” Gabe said with a leering grin, like he really enjoyed Rob being crude but didn’t want to admit it, just in case one of his female companions happened to overhear. He even looked around the empty cabana to check. The walls were those faux-reeds, somple plain mats that weren’t much of a soundproofing technology. Gabe’s cabana was set back to give him some privacy, but anyone who suspected him — like Jessica’s husband and/or daughter and/or any of a bevy of other jealous men, spurned lovers and private investigators.
There wasn’t much furniture in here either, aside from the bed itself. Tennis gear lay all around the room, shoes and rackets and pieces to the tennis ball machine that had broken last year. Rob sniffed the horny sweat from Gabe’s armpit.
“She wouldn’t allow you to make sweet, languorous love to her lovely lady-parts?”
“She wasn’t feelin’ it,” Gabe said. He sat on his bed and spread his legs. He knew what Rob was going to try next.
“I’m feelin’ it…” Rob said with a giggle. He came closer and stretched out on the bed next to Gabe. “You poor baby… You want a backrub?”
“Oh Yeah, yeah, I need that,” Gabe said. He sighed. This wouldn’t be bad. He had agreed to let Rob jerk him off. He spent a lot of time eating women out, and they rarely treated him like his own pleasure was worth considering at all.
Gabe lifted off his polo shirt, revealing a supple, taut chest with a gorgeous six-pack. He had a thin layer of fuzz right over his sternum, just enough to be visible. He used to shave himself as smooth as a seal, but he found women liked it better when he had a bit of chest hair.
He was sprawled out on the bed, and Rob climbed up onto him, mounting his ass so he could rub his shoulders. He cooed softly. Rob was eager to get started, but he didn’t want to push. He had been hoping to get a taste of Gabe’s hot body for a long time.
So it had been worth it to spend hours talking about gas stations with a stuffy fifty-something banker. Utterly boring.
He kneaded the well-muscled back of Gabe’s body, and Gabe let out a seductive moan. Rob leaned down and kissed his smooth skin. Gabe was strong with well-developed shoulders from the years he had spent playing tennis, but he didn’t have a bulky bodybuilderish body. He had stacks of meaty muscle overtop his shoulders, aand his shoulders flexed beautifully when Rob gently sucked on his soft skin.
His hair was immaculate too. Rob didn’t know how he could do it living by himself, because he always kept his hair at the same length, the same level of curliness, the same tapered ending above his neck, so there was never even a single stray hair on his back.
He went lower along Gabe’s spine, plastering his skin with kisses. A few hairs did finally appear there, over the small of his back, just above his ass. He wore white shorts now, above tennis shoes and short socks. Rob slowly untied his shoes.
Gabe stiffened up a bit. He’d never been with a man. It had seemed simple when he agreed to it — he often messed with females he didn’t especially find attractive. It would be nice, he thought, to get dome for the first time in a long time, to get to ram without regard for seducing women or maintaining a good image for the country club.
But it was hard to relax. He remained intimately aware that it was a man caressing his body, not a woman.
“Roll over,” Rob said softly, and Gabe did so. He lifted his ass so Rob could pull his shorts down, and his hefty cock — not obscenely huge, but big — popped out.
It was just slightly hard at the moment, far from erect, but still some lingering firmness from when he nearly got to fuck Jessica and a bit of a reawakening after that from Rob’s hands all over Gabe’s back. Gabe closed his eyes and sprawled out, arms and legs akimbo. He felt an urge to wiggle like a little boy, but he managed to resist, even though he was nervously ticklish to Rob’s petite fingers dancing over his skin.
“Hmmm… You taste real good,” Rob said with a throaty murmur. His hands kneaded Gabe’s chest and his tight, taut little pecs, which flexed beneath his touch. Rob kept giving his dick a half-hearted stroke, teasing Gabe to get him interested.
Soon enough Gabe’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head, supporting himself on his elbows. He watched his dick flop beneath Rob’s hand. “Hey did Clement say anything about Jessica?”
“Not really. He said his wife plays tennis,” Rob murmured softly. His attention was on Gabe’s dick.
“Cool.” Gabe couldn’t tear his eyes away from his cock. He cleared his throat. “It’ll get hard if you get it wet.”
“You can’t get hard from a handjob?”
Gabe blushed. “I… I mean…I can… I just-“
“Is it because I’m a man?”
Gabe nodded. “I mean, it’s cool, it’s just… weird.”
Rob giggled and smiled. He knew Gabe wouldn’t get hard like this. Rob was just teasing him, playing with his half-hard dick and massaging his muscles. He bent over and sucked off the sweat that was collecting in the forested valley between his pecs. It was warm enough in here — and plenty humid enough — to make him sweat just a bit.
Gabe smiled back to conceal his growing frustration — he just wanted to get hard and jerked off so he could go home. Or, he thought, he could just stay here. He had never slept all night in the cabana by himself. He’d shared the bed with women; he’d napped there during the day; he’d slept part of the night by himself after his woman of the week up and left during the night, but he’d never just slept in the bed.
It would feel so good to sleep alone. Tomorrow was Tuesday, when the country club didn’t open until ten o’clock, so no staff showed up until nine. He’d have plenty of time to sleep in.
Why do I want to sleep in? Oh god am I old? Do I need to settle down? I sound like Granddad, always talking about sleeping in until nine as though it was some special event to be celebrated and remembered forever! Oh god! I need to find a wife and settle down-
But Gabe’s anxiety vanished the moment his cocktip slid into Rob’s warm mouth. Gabe let out a long, low sigh as his dick rocketed into full erection. He’d been on the verge for so long it took little time to make it happen.
“Hmmmm….” Rob moaned, the sound blending in with the crippeting chorus outside.
His dick tasted clean, of coconut-scent soap and crisp night-time air — it tasted like the air outside of the cabana, away from the stale and humid, chlorine-soaked air. It tasted like a sleeping forest, Rob thought, but beneath that there was a certain funkiness, a little manly musk that made Rob croon and his knees go weak. It was the taste of tennis-jock, and it overwhelmed Rob with desire.
He slathered it with spit. He soon recognized that Gabe was desperate for some genuine affection, even if he would never admit it. He wanted someone to want to make him feel good, instead of just expecting him to lick their clitorises to orgasm again and again.
Gabe moaned out loud, more fully and more passionately than he had moaned with any woman recently. He gripped Rob’s head tightly, holding on as he rode him up and down. Grinding his dick deep into Rob’s throat, he made love to his mouth, plunging in and out, coating his tongue in creamy precum.
“Do you wanna ram me?” Rob asked, wiping spit off his lips. He smiled. Gabe was pale, wide-eyed and stammering. He looked like he was on the verge of orgasm already.
“Uh… I… I guess… I… I didn’t, uh… I want…”
“Just say yes or no,” Rob said. He rubbed Gabe’s dick against his face, slowly so he wouldn’t make him cum too quickly. He wanted to slow Gabe down so he could experience this for as long as possible.
“Yes.” Gabe gulped.
Rob smiled and laid down on his back. Gabe stood, standing at the foot of the bed, where Rob scooted until his feet could be in the air resting on Gabe’s broad shoulders. A lot of guys loved getting in behind men in this position because it looked and felt like fucking a woman. Of course, a lot of them disliked it because it put the bottom’s cock and balls squarely in front of the top’s eyes. Gabe couldn’t help but watch Rob jack off.
For some men, it was too difficult to stay hard while watching a man jack off. Gabe thought that might be him, but he instinctively refused to say it — he didn’t want to be less seductive; he didn’t want to turn away a conquest; he had a reputation to uphold, at least in his mind.
Besides, he told himself, you don’t have to look down.
Despite that, he did look down as he wedged his dick between Rob’s cheeks and slid in. He sucked in his breath because the side of his hand came tantalizingly close to touching Rob’s ballsac — he might have come into contact with a few curly hairs, but he managed to convince himself that didn’t happen.
His cocktip filled up Rob’s ass, and Rob immediately clenched. He struggled to take it in, not because it was so big but because Gabe was used to being extra-gentle. He stopped whenever he felt even a faint twinge of resistance from Rob’s body.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Gabe,” Rob said with a moan to get him going harder. He reached for Gabe’s cock, guiding it into his ass and holding it firmly. He tried to pull it, shoving it in, hoping to hurry Gabe along into him.
“Are you okay?”
“Ramming men in the ass is different from fucking women. Women have clitorises, it feels best-” Rob winced as a shiver of pain hit him hard. But he didn’t let that slow him down any. “They want you to focus on that, right there on the surface. But men have prostates, way down deep in there. You gotta go all the way in.”
Gabe grimaced and blushed but did so. The tension was too great to speak. He couldn’t decide if this felt amazing or gross — it was a bit of both at once, and both sensations coursed through his veins.
Amazing.
All of a sudden, Gabe’s dick rammed in the rest of the way as his inhibitions melted and Rob managed to suck him in. A grand wave of pleasure ran into Gabe like a truck, and he groaned loudly. He first tried to muffle the sound, then remembered that there was no one outside — the country club had been closed for hours, and even the night janitors were gone.
So he could be as loud as he wanted. Men like Rob didn’t even get upset if he acted barbarically too — so Gabe could growl and grunt, paw at Rob’s body and ram into him as hard as he could. He didn’t have to be seductive.
All he had to do was ram as hard as he could. He plowed into Rob over and over, back and forth. He hadn’t been able to really go to town on anyone’s tight hole in a long time. It felt good to act without regard for anything but his own pleasure and without a face shiny with old-lady pussyjuice.
Gabe laughed meanly for the first time in a long time, as an orgasm overwhelmed him and he sighed. His hot breath condensed on Rob’s face, Gabe leaning over when his knees weakened.
Pleasure exploded within Rob’s ass, and he shot his own wad all over his chest and belly. It coated him in a layer of creamy warmth. But even then, Gabe kept at it.
His dick slammed into Rob, and Gabe sucked in his breath. For just a moment — though it seemed to last forever — both men orgasmed at once. Gabe sometimes managed to do that, but it had never felt as real or as vibrant as it did now.
The most intense orgasm of his life, or at least his most intense since he started working here and banging married old broads, wracked Gabe’s body and made him shake from head to toe. He howled and screamed, pounding away at Rob’s ass with more force than he had ever thought someone could take.
At last, it was over. Gabe let out a long chest-rattling sigh, and wiped sweat off his chest. Rob sighed too, and bit his lip. His orgasm dwindled away to tense soreness because Gabe’s dick still throbbed as it limpened inside Rob’s ass.
“Goddamn, that was nice…” Rob said. He blushed. He giggled and slid away, moaning and blinking his eyes as exhilaration flowed through him and his ass emptied.
Gabe smiled and blushed. “I-“
The door opened. In stormed Clement Tale, the banker Rob had distracted earlier, the cuckolded husband of Gabe’s current women (or one of them, anyway) and father of one of Gabe’s other current conquests. Clement looked at the bed with his mouth agape as though it didn’t quite compute.
Clement had assumed he’d walk in on Gabe the tennis pro fucking his wife. He’d grown suspicious of the handsome tennis pro — why did his wife need years of tennis lessons anyway? She barely played! — and then doubly suspicious when Rob had seemed unserious at their meeting. He recalled Jessica’s odd tone when talking about her plans for this afternoon and evening, and Clement had been struck with the certainty that she was fucking that smarmy-faced prick Gabe.
His blood already boiled with rage over the adultery he thought he was walking in, and he couldn’t quite process that that wasn’t what he was seeing. “You manwhore! You wife-stealing bastard! How dare you seduce my…”
“Mr. Tale?!” Gabe shouted. He backed away from the bed, cock dangling between his legs. “I… It’s not what it looks like. This is my… cousin… He’s… staying here, and uh-“
Rob slid out of bed. Clement Tale looked at him curiously, head cocked to the side. It seemed like quite a coincidence that the flamboyant young man who had expressed interest in a gas station just a few hours ago was now apparently here in the room of the tennis pro Mr. Tale had been sure was stupping his wife until a few seconds ago.
Clement couldn’t figure out what it meant or in what way it might be an attack on him. Maybe the flamboyant young man was a con artist? But the plan was for him to invest. He was talking about buying a gas station. He wasn’t asking for money. And why would the tennis pro be involved?
Now Mr. Tale wasn’t sure of anything. “You… you… ingrate!” Mr. Tale shouted. He couldn’t think of what to accuse either man of.
“What are you doing here?” Gabe asked.
“I-I… I’m sorry to disturb you.” Clement backed out of the cabana, into the dark night. He still felt sure there was something he wasn’t understanding. But he had assuaged his concerns, or at least he was satisfied that Jessica was not at this very moment fucking her tennis pro. He couldn’t rule out any other moments. That mollified Clement as much as he was capable of being mollified in this moment, and he walked back to his car in stunned silence. Back in the cabana, Rob kissed Gabe again and again until Gabe signaled for him to stop.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Rob asked, still basking in the heat and the comfortable solidity of Gabe’s frame.
Gabe shrugged. He didn’t want to admit he was eager to make that happen. If he got to ram Rob again and again all night long, he would sleep so good. He allowed Rob to kiss and suck his chest clean, then they both laid down on the bed.
Now, Gabe was glad he wasn’t sleeping alone.
Rob sighed. He was going to sleep with Gabe all night in the bed, it seemed, in this cabana that reeked of Gabe’s lust. He nuzzled Gabe’s now slightly scruffy chin and wrapped one hand around his well-muscled chest.
“Hmmmm… Thanks, Rob,” Gabe said. “I really needed this.”

The Veteran

Avery is hoping to see some admirable male physiques at a notorious campground, so he hangs out cruising the scene. When one alpha male Army vet catches his eye, Avery is off to the races in hopes of landing the outrageous manhood of this military stud.

Can Avery land the man of his dreams?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery leaned back in his camp chair and sipped at his nalgene bottle full of ice-cold water. He had a cooler in the tent. It tasted good. It had taken him hours to get all set up. Putting a tent up seemed to get more arduous every time he did it, he thought, as his joints got older.
Campgrounds always made him feel old these days anyway. It seemed like everyone he saw was younger than him. Public campgrounds like this used to be full of older people. That was what Avery thought about them when he was growing up. It was a place full of old people. Now, he was the old people.
He was in rural Wyoming. He didn’t know any of the people, but he knew that, sooner or later, he’d make a friend. The people in this kind of place were always nice. That was why Avery liked to hang out in campgrounds.
That and the fact that men with excellent physiques were usually there too. Fat and skinny men as well, but not as many. Maybe, Avery thought, the out-of-shape ones were at home eating potato chips and commenting on the internet, leaving the more well-formed men to throng in place like this, the Crambighter Woods campground.
“Anybody wanna drum fo’ us? We need some rhythm, boy howdy!”
“Who got a percussion?”
A band was starting up, an impromptu group around the campfire near Avery’s tent. They had been talking about music and discovered several of them had brought guitars, so they started tuning up.
“I can drum,” Avery said when he casually milled in that direction. He was self-conscious because it seemed a lot of these guys knew each other. But he wanted to fit in, and he was a drummer — he had even been in a band as a teenager.
Someone produced a bongo drum. Avery had never actually used one, but once he got started, he got the hang of it. It wasn’t any different than the drumsticks he was used to.
It was just a jam session — not even any singing. They played popular songs by the Rolling Stones, Beatles, Hank Williams Jr, Dwight Yoakam. Avery just played the rhythm, but he didn’t mind. He liked being part of the group.
There were quite a few women at the Crambighter this weekend. That was a well-known campground with lots of ladies, giving the men plenty of opportunities for sex. That was a big part of why so many men came here. Avery was only interested in the men — women bored him — but he appreciated the women because they attracted the men. A lot of the ladies were’t that ladylike anyway — some were outright prostitutes. That would make it difficult for Avery to find a man willing to swing downlow. The handsomest ones had women hanging off them.
As Avery started banging out a Funkadelic song — a man with a bass had shown up and requested it — he took stock of his options. There was a blond long-haired stud who looked Nordic, but he had a woman with him and Avery gathered from her body language that they were going to go off and fuck soon. There was a scruffy young biker-type (impossible to tell if he was really a biker or not, but his beard and tattoos made him look bikerish, or at least he was attempting to come across that way) who looked promising but had gotten drunk. He would be too drunk by the time Avery managed to get him alone.
All that guy-watch made Avery lose the rhythm for a moment. Luckily no one noticed in the cacophony of guitars. It was hard to stay in sync, because Avery was pretty sure some of the guys were playing “Up for the Downstroke” — technically a Parliament song — instead of “Hit It & Quit It” as they had agreed.
A man caught Avery’s eye, and that made him stop drumming for a moment.
He looked military. He definitely wasn’t, judging from the mustache which was surely not regulation, but he had a crew-cut and he was slightly balding, and he wore a green tee shirt like a soldier over workpants splattered with white paint. He was in his mid-forties, older than most of the men here, and he slightly balding, but his tight tee shirt showed off a potent body. He wore his pants high — very unfashionable — and heavy boots on his broad feet.
Maybe a cop? He looked like maybe a cop. But there were people smoking weed not far away — Avery had smelled it earlier — so he thought a cop, even an off-duty one, would have either intervened or left. Maybe a former cop.
He certainly carried himself like an authority figure, that was for sure. He glowered at the carousing, drunk bikers and rednecks who fell over each other around the campfire. He didn’t say anything. Was he here with someone? Avery didn’t think so.
As Avery banged on his bongo, he saw the man talk to a woman finally. He looked stiff, nervous like a man half his age, and Avery could tell instantly that she was turned off. She was blatantly the fun-loving youngster-type, Avery thought, she was never going to go for a dowdy daddy like him.
But Avery did overhear — in a brief break in the song — that the man’s name was Bernard. That was a great name for a sturdy man, Avery thought, it made him think of big dogs and mountain passes.
“Play ‘Free Bird’!”
“Who wants to blow this joint?”
“Yeah!” A chorus of agreement rang out. It seemed nobody wanted to play “Free Bird”. Avery certainly didn’t. He had his limits.
The band disbanded to go smoke weed. Avery wasn’t interested in that either. He milled about and saw Bernard talk to another woman, this one a bit older, plumper, precisely the type who might like Bernard’s thick body and burly middle-aged look.
But in the hustle of everyone switching places, Avery was jostled about and he lost track of Bernard. He was pretty sure Bernard had gone into a tent with the thick girl.
Oh well… Avery sighed. That little opportunity was busted. He ought to have gone smoking weed with the other guys. Now he both didn’t have Bernard and wasn’t stoned.
He was alone again. Hot chicks had hooked up with handsome guys with nice cars; fat chicks had hooked up with handsome guys without cars; couples had retired to their tents, and the night was drawing to a close.
It was funny how that happened so fast at campground events like this. Once a few charismatic people realized they were tired — or found someone and somewhere to fuck — the remainder were all introverted weirdos like Avery. The party dwindled.
That wasn’t a problem for Avery’s plans. In an hour or two, any man who had failed to land a woman would be ripe for the plucking. Anyone drunk would be passed out cold. Avery could take his pick from the remainder, most of whom would be horny enough and desperate enough to at least let Avery give them a handjob.
But he had to wait a bit for that. He decided to go take a shower. Not only were there probably lots of men there, he just plain needed to bathe.
The showerhouse was near the entrance to the Crambighter Campground. Avery flopped there in his sandals, carrying a towel and his shower gear. He went to the adult men’s side — it was divided into quarters, for adults and juveniles, both male and female (though this weekend was an adults-only event, which was why drinking was allowed).
No one was in there. Avery was disappointed. Maybe he was going to strike out tonight after all. It seemed the women this weekend were determined to use up all the men. The showerhouse was big and empty, cold until he turned the hot water on. At least the lack of people meant there was plenty of hot water.
Avery started showering by himself. It felt lonely in that big cavernous space all alone. He wished someone else would be here, even some old loser.
The door swung open, and Avery held his breath — it took a few moments for whoever it was to come around the corner.
It was him!
It was Bernard. Avery was giddy, and his heart skipped a beat. Bernard hadn’t hooked up with that plump girl after all. Her loss.
He glanced at Avery and nodded a polite hello, then went to the changing area. Bernard had a furrowed brow, and his muscles were tense from the moment he walked in. Was that a bulge in his workpants? Did he have a hardon?
That was when Avery noticed the little cut on his cheek, which was red. He had been slapped.
That explained it! He had hooked up with the heavy girl, but he must have come on too strong or something. She slapped him, and judging from the bruising Avery saw, she either did it a couple times or she really packed a wallop. Either option seemed possible.
Bernard hesitated. He eyed the slim white man — Avery — with a dim eye. He rather wished he was showering alone, as then he could jack himself off. He needed that. That plump woman had blueballed him. When he dropped his pants — standing behind the barrier that protected the changing area from the showers — he saw that his dick was still hard.
Instead he just stood there and sighed. When he realized that made him seem weirder than having a hardon would be, he just shrugged and went into the showering area. Avery stared at his erect cock when it became visible.
“Don’t make fun, man,” Bernard said, his voice a low throaty growl, like he didn’t speak often and his vocal cords were unpracticed. He looked at his massive dick, still mostly hard and throbbing, begging for action. “I got hard earlier and couldn’t get it down, I was wit’ this female, man, and she slapped the shit outta me. Got me all worked up and then ain’t wanna put out.”
“Oh yeah? That sucks…” Avery clucked his tongue. “You poor baby.”
Bernard nodded and stepped under the showerhead furthest from Avery. “Wish I was drunk,” Bernard said. The water sprayed over his broad chest. His body hair was already matted to his skin with sweat — he was palpably hot, Avery could feel his body heat when he walked by, his plump but chunky thick-body ass jiggling as he did. Avery saw that erect cock and had to stop himself from drooling.
Avery’s mind raced as he considered what it might take to land a taste of Bernard’s excellent meat.
“Man, she invited me into her tent, ‘nd shit, man, swear to god, she was beggin’ for it. Then all of a sudden she say she only doin’ handstuff.” He threw his hands in the air — revealing big bushy armpits — and scowled. “What the fuck? Is we in middle school again? She was like nearly thirty…” He rolled his eyes. “Doin’ handstuff…”
Avery chuckled. “Yeah… girls can be teases.”
“Yeah.” Bernard grunted. “I can do handstuff mah own goddamn self!” He poured shampoo into his hand and washed his scalp — his hair was so short Avery didn’t see the point, but he didn’t say that out loud. Maybe it was dandruff shampoo.
“You still have a hardon.”
As he rinsed the shampoo off his scalp, Bernard opened his eyes and glowered darkly at Avery. Obviously Avery wasn’t supposed to mention it after Bernard already apologized for it. Avery smiled at him, and he turned his hips so Bernard could see his pale, smooth ass.
Bernard groaned.
Avery saw the thoughts flicker over Bernard’s face. Avery didn’t make any offer yet, wanting to give Bernard a chance to ruminate on his options. Avery continued washing his body with a washcloth, making sure his smoothness and petite frame were visible in the dim light of the showerhouse. He turned around to dance his ass towards Bernard.
Bernard narrowed his eyes to slits at the sight of Avery’s plump bubble-butt. Avery was slim, but his ass was thick, plump, smooth. It looked tight too. Bernard could just plow into that. It would feel so good, he thought.
But he wasn’t going to do that.
He had done it, once, back in boot camp. He and a buddy had had leave together, and when Bernard was unable to find a prostitute — this was back in the 1970s in a remote part of Alaska — he had traded mouth with his buddy. They just jacked each other off first, but when that proved difficult to cum to, they had sixty-nined. Later, Bernard woke up to find himself grinding his cock into his buddy’s asshole and giving a reacharound as he did it.
That had been one crazy weekend that he had blocked out of his mind. Bernard didn’t think about that, and when he did think about it, he tried to convince himself it hadn’t happened.
But his cock, he soon realized, had gotten harder since he walked in here. It wasn’t going to go down. It throbbed and pulsated like it had a mind of its own, a mind that was demanding a warm, tight place to ram itself into. The more he looked at Avery’s taut ass and his creamy smooth skin like a woman’s, the more Bernard wanted him.
He has such soft lips too, Bernard though, be he could do amazing things with those lips.
“So do you have a wife?” Avery asked. He already guessed the answer, but he wanted to keep Bernard thinking about women and sex.
“No.” Bernard grunted. His mind raced too fast to think of anything to say except touch my dick, which he couldn’t bring himself to say no matter how much he wanted it to happen.
“Are you okay? You looked upset,” Avery said. “Or maybe it’s just that hardon that won’t go away. You want me to help?”
“Uh…” Bernard closed his eyes. He spread his legs and put his hands behind his back as though he was at parade rest. He jutted his hips forward enough to make his foot-long dick stick out, making it look even bigger. His chest muscles rippled.
That was a pretty clear signal, Avery thought. He came closer.
Bernard looked so handsome, like an AWOL soldier about to be scolded by his commanding officer. He winced even before Avery got on his knees in front of him. Avery waited a good long time to give him a chance to change his mind — he knew Bernard was ready when he peeked his eyes open to see why Avery hadn’t started yet.
Avery plunged deep on his dick then, all in one smooth motion, slamming his head all the way down. He wanted to interrupt that parade-rest position, but Bernard forced himself to stay put. He swayed back and forth but didn’t move his feet or his hands. His chest muscles all flexed like it took all of his effort to avoid moving his hands — he no doubt wanted to hold Avery’s head and ram his throat — alphas always wanted that — but thought that would feel too weird.
It was cute to watch. Bernard furiously squeezed his eyes shut and refused to move either his feet or his arms. He was so focused on keeping his limbs still that he made lots of horse-like snorting and whinnying sounds as his hips tossed his upper body around like a bobblehead.
His dick tasted like the paint-stained workpants he had been wearing. That was because he had gotten hard wearing them, Avery thought — he’d long noticed that men who concealed hardons in their pants ended up smelling like their pants when they finally got their dick out, like the scent of his fabric had seeped into his dickshaft. He must have been horny enough with that woman to leak some precum from his dick, because Avery could taste the salt of recently dried funk on his shaft as well. Avery’s tongue slathered spit up and down, gathering up all that stale flavor and the desperate sexual frustration in Bernard’s manhood.
“Ah, goddamn, man… Shit, I needed that…” Bernard’s tension slowly melted away. His muscles gradually relaxed. He remained at parade-rest, hands firmly locked on his own wrists behind his ass. His whole body tensed and flexed and buckled, as he let out petite groans and grunts.
“Can I slurp on your balls, sir?” Avery asked, letting his voice gurgle moistly with the salty precum that coated his lips.
“Hmmm… Oh god, yeah… lick my balls, man, c’mon…” Bernard’s deep voice echoed. “I love that…” He was one of those people who didn’t really have the ability to whisper, Avery thought. He was so big that he had a deep, rumbling voice, which melded in with the hum of the fluorescent lights and the excited shouts outside by the campfire, so his voice wasn’t very disruptive even if it was quiet. It sort of melded in with the atmosphere of the campground.
Avery produced copious spit that flowed down Bernard’s shaft all the way to his heavy balls, which Avery slurped and licked loudly, his tongue working all over the hairy sac. He made his own saliva drip into puddles on the linoleum floor before running to the drain. Two showers still sprayed warm water, but Bernard had backed up to the wall, so he was out of the spray of both showers.
“Hmmm, ah yeah, man… it’s been a long time since, uh… someone licked my balls,” Bernard said. He very nearly said ‘a dude’ but stopped himself because he wasn’t ready to admit he’d messed with a man back in boot camp. But it was true, no girl had ever licked his balls for more than a few seconds because they were too big, too heavy, too low-hanging, and too hairy.
They were just plain too much.
Those traits were exactly why Avery loved them. Women don’t know how to value a hairy, sweaty ballsac. He slurped down every drop of shower-water that still clung to Bernard’s sac, and he slipped his head between those powerful legs too.
Soon, Avery was on the other side, kissing each of his work-weary asscheeks below which his hands had a death-grip on each other. “You ready to ram me?” Avery asked, as he licked the mighty meat of Bernard’s ass.
“Hell yeah…” Bernard murmured.
Avery slid back in front of Bernard on the smooth linoleum floor, arranging himself on all fours, with his ass high in the air. Bernard’s eyes opened wide.
There’s that ass again. It’s so tight. Tell him no. Tell him you only want to do mouth-stuff.
But his asshole beckoned, and Bernard didn’t want to back out. It was so warm and smooth, better than that girl’s chunky ass would have been, Bernard thought but would never say out loud. He blushed as though someone might have heard his thought. He was already kneeling behind Avery before he even decided to do it.
It was like his body was on autopilot. Even with his buddy in boot camp, Bernard had never done it like this. That had been fumbling in the dark, not an actual hardcore cock-in-ass ramrodding, like they were prisoners on lockdown.
“Aaaah…” He finally used his hands on Avery’s body. He gripped each of this thick bubble-butt cheeks and held on tight as he plowed in. Avery’s hole was tight and resisted at first, but with just a little push, Bernard’s cock sank in deeply.
“Shit!” Avery yelped. Bernard had a big dick, and there was a potent pinching pressure in Avery’s backside. Avery lifted one foot off the ground and howled.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, go on, keep going,” Avery said breathlessly as more and more of Bernard’s mature meat slid into him, ignoring his body’s instinctual resistance. Avery moaned, as his prostate came alive and sent waves of sensation through his body. He heard activity outside the showerhouse — he suspected some men had heard what was going on in here and left so they wouldn’t walk in on it. That made Avery laugh to himself even as he grunted in pain.
With a final potent push, Bernard’s entire cock was inside him. Avery cried out for more, as Bernard began pumping his hips back and forth. Bernard was shocked — few girls could take his dick in its entirety, especially without a lot of lube and extra time to adjust. Avery had simply taken it with a minimum of whimpering, and now he moaned with pleasure that grew with every thrust of Bernard’s cock in and out of him.
“Damn, ah, shit!” Avery cried out again. His hands tightened into claws that dug at the linoleum floor of the showerhouse. He had scooted forward enough that his face was in the warm shower-water, while Bernard stayed mostly dry.
Bernard couldn’t ever fuck a woman like this, she would say he was doing it too hard, too rough, not romantic enough. It was nice to be able to just plow without worrying about that. He gripped Avery’s asscheeks and held on tight, using all of his weight and his strength to ram his meat in and out. He was so aroused he even found his hands roaming around to Avery’s cock.
He had given a reacharound back in boot camp, and he did it again out of instinct or habit, or maybe just plain repressed desire. He didn’t realize he had done it until his hands gripped Avery’s thick shaft and felt it pulsating beneath his grasp. Cum flowed over his fingers, as his grasp instantly sent Avery over the edge to his climax. It was hot and sticky, and it made Bernard focus his entire attention on that.
He was jacking a stranger off in the shower. He couldn’t believe it, but it didn’t slow him down any. He reached his own orgasm moments later, amid the frenzied moans arising from Avery’s throat. Jizz spurted out of both men, Avery’s puddling up near the drain it then flowed into while Bernard filled Avery’s ass with his creamy seed.
“Ah, shit, yeah, take it!”
Creamy cum sprayed deep into Avery’s ass. Avery had been just as surprised as Bernard about the sudden reacharound, but he certainly wasn’t about to complain. He just used both hands to support himself as he rammed his ass back and forth on Bernard’s studly cock.
More and more juices filled Avery up, turning into a frothy mess that dripped onto the floor of the showerhouse. The smell of funk was intense and potent, and it didn’t wash away even with the pair of showers still on.
Finally he was done. Bernard leaned back until his cock plopped out. Both men felt a surge of relief and an intense twinge of pleasure that dwindled slowly.
He sighed grandly. “Shit, man… I don’t even miss that girl.”
“Wanna sleep in my tent?” Avery asked, breathless and sweaty. He needed to take a whole nother shower, he thought with a laugh.
Bernard blushed and bit his lip. “I mean… I dunno…”
“How about this? It’s the red tent at the corner there by the campfire ring. You know where I mean…? The big one? You can just come in, so no one will know I’m already in there when you come in. You can just slide right in,” Avery said. “I’ll wake up if I’m already asleep.”
“Okay…” Bernard gulped.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be a ton of fun,” Avery said. He displayed his ass as Bernard backed out towards the changing area again. Avery stuck a finger in, brought some cum out and smeared it over his asscheek. “I’ll just get ready.”
Bernard grabbed his clothes and ran out. He didn’t even bother to get dressed first. His cock flopped between his legs as he tumbled out into the darkness. Luckily, nobody noticed.
Was he really going to sleep with that man tonight? He told himself no, but he had a feeling the answer was yes.
If I can’t find a woman, I’ll go back to him. But I’ll really try. For real. I won’t just wait a few minutes and then go there. Sir, no, sir.