on a beach – Mansploitation

The Volleyball Player

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

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

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Or read the whole thing here!

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

The Surfer

Avery is at it again, this time on a legendary Southern California beach. That’s where he runs into a hunky surfer jock in need of some dollars, and Avery is all too eager to help out.

Can this surfer jock handle Avery’s generosity?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here now!

San Guapo Beach in the summer of 1972 was warm, even by SoCal standards, and Avery enjoyed looking at all the college and military guys out there doing push-ups and play-fighting each other for the benefit of the flirty bikini babes who flocked there. This particular beach had more hot girls than you could shake a dick at. There would not be any alphas desperate to bust a nut here. But Avery enjoyed a man with hair you could run your fingers through. It didn’t have to be long hair, just thick and luxurious and maybe just a little bit greasy.
That described a lot of guys here — virtually all the guys who weren’t military had a full head of hair, and there weren’t many hats to be seen either, probably since it was an overcast day.
There was a surfer who drew Avery’s gaze.
He was hot, tall, dark-haired and well-tanned, with perfectly greasy blond hair. He slicked it back as he rose out of the water. His chest was hairy tooy. The surfer held his board in hand as he headed away from the water, sandals thwacking on the sand with every step.
Avery was just about to proposition him when a girl appeared. “You didn’t wait up for me!” she squealed and giggled.
“You gotta keep up, baby,” he said, kissing her on the lips. Avery stared at his crotch and saw his dick twitch when his tongue rammed into her mouth, and one of his hands gripped her breast.
For just a moment, it looked like they were going to have sex right here on the sidewalk. Then they just continued on. Avery was disappointed. They watched the handsome man’s ass sway as he walked down the street.
He sat there watching the surfers. Most of them wore swimwear, mere briefs that left little to the imagination. Avery could see their cocks outlined, jiggling as they rode the waves up and down. Many of them had treasure trails leading down to their crotches such that their belly hair and pubic hair intermingled, and those bathing suits were not large enough to cover the part that was clearly pubic.
Not that Avery was complaining.
But there were so many hot guys, that wasn’t just in his head. (Lookitthat Marine-type learning how to swim for the first time, his little hippie girlfriend giggling as he heaves onto the board! His muscles rippled like a sac of snakes.) The Marine’s dog tags jingled, and he stole a quick kiss from the girl, who squealed and pulled away then kissed him back.
They stood there in waist-deep water, locking lips. Avery couldn’t see either person’s hands, but he had a guess where they were.
Avery rented a motel room. With all these guys around, he could surely find the rough trade he sought. There were just too many pretty girls in southern California, he thought, it was ridiculous!
There was a surf shop a little ways down the promenade, and Avery headed that way. A Hang Twelve Surfer Joint, it was called. He thought he might be able to nab one of the clerks. They were probably young, alpha as hell and ready to bust a nut, and, of course, they wouldn’t have a girlfriend nearby when they were at work.
But there was only one clerk, and he was a little old for Avery’s taste. That was disappointing. On the other hand, the clerk was busy with a customer who was one of the handsomest surfers Avery had ever seen. He could tell Avery liked him too because of the way Avery’s eyes bulged out when he saw him.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Kyle, man, Mr. Winthrop will come down on me so hard if I sell it to you at that price-“
“Man, you told me to bring back the money!” Kyle pleaded. He had long, tangled blond hair and a surfer’s build, with broad shoulders and a sun-bronzed frame. He wore shorts and a sleeveless tee shirt that bared his biceps and the soft curly blond hairs that sprouted up and down his arms. He had a vaguely southern accent — a Bakersfield accent — and a deep voice. “You said to bring back another twenty dollars-“
“And then you took three days to do it, Kyle! That was the sale price. I gotta account for this shit in the ledger, man,” the clerk said. He looked at Avery and pointedly asked, “can I help you, sir?”
“I wanted to talk to him,” Avery said. He motioned to Kyle, who took a moment to notice — he was biting his lip, flexing his arms and trying to think of a way to make some extra money. Kyle furrowed his brow. He had deep dimples and brilliant blue eyes that made Avery swoon.
“… Oh? What? Me?” Kyle blushed. “What?”
“I just wanted to ask you a question,” Avery said.
Kyle hesitated.
“It’s a private question.”
Kyle looked at the clerk, who just shrugged. He gestured towards the sidewalk. Kyle scowled back at him. “Man…” He looked at Avery, then at Avery. “Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Avery. I’m from out of town.”
“Oh… like… oh…” Kyle looked like a bit of a dumbie, Avery thought, which was cute. His eyes stared blankly as Avery led him just outside the shop, to a bench near the sidewalk.
“I wanted to say that I’ll buy the surfboard for you. I’ll buy whatever surfboard you want,” Avery said. “If you cornhole me.”
Kyle’s eyes opened wide. He chuckled, nervously at first, then for real, then nervously again. He ran his fingers through his tangled mane of blond hair. “Ah… Oh…” He paused. Then he said it again, “ah… oh!” like he had just figured out what Avery said and that it wasn’t a joke.
“No one will ever know,” Avery said. He teased like he was going to grab Kyle’s cock in his board shorts, but he stopped short. Kyle scooted away.
Then Kyle reconsidered and scooted back. He blushed again, a deep crimson that contrasted well with his suntanned skin. “How’d you know my name?”
“The clerk said it.”
“Oh. Right…” He chuckled at himself. “Uh… So you’ll like… jerk me off and shit?” He paused and thought about it, looking around to make sure no one overheard. He took a deep breath. “If you try to go for my ass or anything, dude, I swear I’ll kick your ass. Totally.”
“No problem. I’ve got a motel room,” Avery said. “And I’ll pay for the surfboard when we’re done.”
They went to the motel, Kyle awkwardly silent because Avery wrapped an arm around his well-muscled back. Kyle was pretty sure no one saw him, so he breathed a sigh of relief when they actually made it into the motel room. There was one window in the small one-bed room, which opened on the beach until Avery drew the curtains closed. He left a small crack so Avery could watch through the window.
Kyle gulped. He ran his fingers through his thick tangle of blond hair, which stretched to his broad shoulders. He had never done anything like this, and wasn’t even really sure how to do it. He knew how to get a girl to give up the pussy — sort of, it wasn’t like he was an expert casanova or anything — but what was he supposed to do with a man?
But he needed a surfboard.
Aside from being a hobby he considered very important in his life, Kyle surfed to impress the girl he currently liked, Marsha, who would definitely lose interest if he had no surfboard any longer. He was glad to be in a motel room where no one could see him, but he was nervous too because he could hear people outside on the beach, playing, laughing, girls laughing at guys who were surfing — it felt like they were right in the room, laughing at him.
“You gotta take your shorts off,” Avery said. He rubbed Kyle’s shoulders, but that just seemed to make Kyle tense up more, so Avery stopped. He did run his fingers through that glorious hair. He kissed Kyle on the back of the neck.
“Shit… okay…” Kyle said. He blushed. He lowered his board shorts gingerly, pausing when Avery came around to his front and sink to his knees between Kyle’s legs. A few of his pale blond pubic hairs were visible, but he didn’t take his dick out yet. He wore old-fashioned tighty-whiteys beneath his board shorts.
He dove for it without even suggesting Kyle remove them. Avery wasn’t an underwear fetishist by any means, but Kyle’s briefs were pure white and smelled strongly of his scent. They made Avery’s dick so hard it ached.
Kyle looked both a bit horrified and relieved, like a part of him hoped Avery would just be satisfied by smelling his underwear. But instead he pulled Kyle’s briefs down, making Kyle gasp as his cock popped free. Avery rubbed Kyle’s limp dick over his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dude… This is weird…” Kyle said. He whispered and looked towards the window. He could just barely see a pretty blonde girl in a bikini out there. He knew she couldn’t see in, but still, it was unnerving and Kyle pulled the curtain closed more.
“I’m just jerking you off, it’s exactly like a blowjob. There’s no difference. I don’t even have any beard hairs, see?” He displayed his perfectly smooth cheeks and chin.
“Still…”
“Well, it’s up to you. But if you say yes, no one will ever know,” Avery said. He backed up, no longer touching Kyle’s dick — which twitched a little — just staring at it as he spoke. “And if you say yes, tomorrow I’ll track you down on the beach, whenever some people are around, and I’ll make sure they all hear as I explain that I bought you the surfboard because you saved my daughter from a rapist. No, not daughter, then the girl you like will think she has competition: my elderly aunt. You saved my elderly aunt from a rapist, so I bought you the surfboard.”
He thought for a moment. His eyes were dull like he didn’t get the plan at first. “Shit, okay!” He paused. “Hey, how did you know there’s a girl I like?”
Avery rolled his eyes. “Just a good guess.” He licked his lips. “C’mon, lemme jerk you off… You already let me play with it a little. I’ll make you feel so good you forget about girls.”
Kyle closed his eyes and nodded. He gulped. “Fine. You better buy me that surfboard, dude.”
“I will. Ssssh, baby, it’s okay, it won’t hurt at all,” Avery said. He popped his cock into his mouth and giggled at the shocked expression on Kyle’s face, his eyes still closed. Avery began swallowing it as deep as he could, wanting to immediately impress Kyle with his deep-throating.
Outside the squawking of seagulls and the giggles of pretty girls filled the air, and Kyle tried to focus on that. He was both embarrassed that this was happening and that his dick hardened up right away, turning into a stiff rod that filled up Avery’s mouth.
He sucked in his breath. Kyle couldn’t believe how good this felt. If it was a girl, he’d say things like “I like you so much, baby…” but he didn’t want to say that now. He didn’t want to lead this freak on. He touched Avery’s head to drill his dick in but then thought that would seem almost romantic.
“Ah, shit, dude… You’re really doing it…” Now that it had started, Kyle thought it didn’t feel as weird as he thought it would. It really was just like a girl, but maybe even better. He bit his lip hard as Avery swallowed him all the way to the root, until his face nuzzled Kyle’s unkempt pubic hair.
It wasn’t the first time Kyle had done something like this, but he wasn’t sure the first time counted. It was last year, when Kyle was just barely nineteen. He and his male friends Scumdog and Pony had spent a day surfing and talking to girls on the beach.
They’d very nearly gotten a girl to give them all blowjobs. They tried to pretend like it was no big deal, like she should just do it as a big practical joke. She was definitely thinking about it. She blushed and giggled and said “oh my god!” a lot.
But in the end, she had said no because Pony farted and Kyle and Scumdog both laughed; that was immature, she thought. She had walked away in a huff. Kyle was standing there on the beach with a hardon in those tiny tight swimming shorts, next to Scumdog and Pony. It was Scumdog who first noticed everyone’s boners. He tried to hit Kyle’s with his like they were jousting, which made Kyle blush. Scumdog later acknowledged that his boner wouldn’t go away, that he needed to get a nut off. Scumdog suggested they circlejerk instead.
But where to go on a crowded beach? They couldn’t just jack off here. So instead they had gone to the beach showerhouse. At the time, Kyle had been nervous. He assumed they were going to take turns jacking off in the little back area, with the others making sure no one came in.
All kinds of people came into those beach showerhouses, the kind with no stalls or anything, just bare showerheads spraying fresh water to clear the salt off people’s body. It wasn’t expected that people would be naked in there at all. Only weirdos took their shorts off in those places.
But no one was in there then, not in the back where no one ever went. Kyle still had a hardon when he got in there with Scumdog and Pony, all of them walking stiffly and continually adjusting themselves to hide the boners. The more they thought about it, the less they could stop their cocks from throbbing and even leaking a few drops of precum just because they had to keep moving their swim trunks around.
“I’m going first, you keep a lookout-“
“No way-!”
“It was my idea, you keep a lookout.”
“Hey, you know what… Hey you know what’s not pervy, like for real, not?” Scumdog said. He was the tough one of the three, his older brother in prison and his father on parole. He had tattoos and a shaved head. He leaned his surfboard against a wall in a way that provided some protection from witnesses. “It’s for real, they do it in prison. Ya gotta be a real man. You pansies in? Oh are you worried you’re gonna turn pansy too?”
And so that was how the circlejerk had started. Kyle was nervous now thinking about it as his dick got slurped on by Avery.
He grunted. This felt better than he thought possible. No girl had ever give him a blowjob him like this. Kyle gasped. He didn’t want to sound like he liked this, that would be too pervy.
Precum flowed down Avery’s throat. Kyle was so horny it hurt. He gripped the sheets of the hotel bed beneath him, holding on tightly enough to pull the sheets off the mattress.
Back in that communal shower, Kyle thought — he was unable to stop thinking about it now, after he had spent the last year trying to pretend it hadn’t happened — he had felt tougher when it was all over, like Scumdog was right, only tough guys did it.
Pony’s dick had been big and veiny and it felt so weird in Kyle’s hand. Not bad, just weird. Kyle wondered why it felt different. Was it all in his head? Pony’s dick had been hard like stone, but Kyle thought his always had some fleshiness to it, even when it was totally erect.
Scumdog had touched Kyle’s nipples too, and Pony’s. He said guys just needed to blow their wad sometimes, so they could concentrate. He said girls didn’t like desperate guys.
Kyle’s heart had raced the whole time, as he endured Scumdog’s big meaty hands stroking him off — Pony was tall and thick all over. It was worse than masturbating, he thought, but the excitement made it somehow hotter. He felt like Pony was stroking less effectively yet his hand was built better, so it stroked whole different parts of his dick that he had never felt before.
He got that same feeling now. “Damn, dude, you do that… like… crazy… oh, shit!” Kyle flailed on the bed, the precum flowing like water from a hose down Avery’s throat.
A gasp escaped from Kyle’s mouth, so strangled and choked that it sounded painful. His surf-toned muscles all flexed at once, pecs bouncing. Avery reached up to tweak his nipples, surprised at how extreme Kyle’s reaction was — Kyle was both aroused and dismayed because it reminded him of that circlejerk.
Kyle made eye contact with Avery, who was balls-deep on his cock. Kyle blushed again — or maybe still, Avery couldn’t tell — he didn’t even know someone could deep-throat an entire cock. Kyle, the poor baby, didn’t even realize yet that his dick was much bigger than average. He just thought deep-throating was impossible, until he saw Avery swallowing him to the root. He hadn’t noticed that during the circlejerk because he’d been focused on not getting cummed on.
That hadn’t worked. He’d gotten Pony’s cum on his hand and a bit on his thigh then. He’d bugged out when it happened as though he was going to punch Scumdog.
“Ya got your nut on me, dude!” Kyle held his hand up like it was radioactive.
But Scumdog just scoffed. “You ain’t some squeamish wuss, right? It’s just a little cum. If we all got that slut to suck us off, we’d probably touch dicks, right, bro? We’d probably cum all over each other’s shafts. That’s how it works for real men, y’know, not the stuffed-shirt crowd, but real men. They blow their wad wherever they can. You wanna cry about it? Go back to Feaga Spit Beach.” He sneered — Feaga Spit Beach was the private, exclusive beach where there was no surfing or virtually any other activity allowed.
“Yeah, dude. Yeah. Right,” Kyle had said then, as though he already agreed with all that. He just wiped his hand off on the wall. It still felt cummy though, and he had to hold down a feeling of panic. “I was just — Pony looked like he was gonna cry like a little baby, I thought he was freaking out about it.”
“No I wasn’t-!”
Scumdog shoved him then. That was the first naked wrestling match Kyle had ever participated in. He had no idea that, if he had said it out loud, Avery would demand a play-by-play as he stroked and slurped on Kyle’s cock to completion. His half-hard, cum-dripping cock had flopped all over Scumdog’s thighs, and their dicks even touched.
He didn’t want to even slightly touch dicks when they were jacking off, but Kyle realized only later that he hadn’t had any anxiety about it when they wrestled. That was despite him feeling every inch of Scumdog’s cock sliding all over his body, leaving a trail of cum because Scumdog had just cum as well. He didn’t even realize he had been covered in Scumdog’s cum (and probably Pony’s somehow too) until later. Wrestling was macho enough to make him forget about such things, and it wouldn’t do to act like some prissy little bitch whining about a spider, Kyle thought.
They were in the shower anyway at the time. They rinsed off right afterwards, and Kyle, thought with swelling pride, he had won the match even though Scumdog was larger. He put Scumdog in a chokehold, his broad chest encompassing Scumdog’s back as Scumdog turned red and cried uncle.
“Say you’re the wuss!” Kyle said.
“Okay, yeah, I’m the wuss,” Scumdog had said through his gasps and squirming between Kyle’s bicep and forearm. He blushed as Pony and Kyle laughed at him.
That was an alpha enough ending that it made Kyle feel better about it. He wasn’t going to tell anyone though, not even Avery. Now that he was getting dome from Avery, Kyle was glad he had done that circlejerk too. That made it easier now.
“Yeah, dude, man, you got… shit…” Kyle felt too good to focus on saying anything. His spine shuddered as a wave of pleasure wracked his body. It was still nerve-wracking, but he could admit it (to himself) it was the best dome of his life. Plus, he thought with a big grin, he was going to get a brand-new surfboard out of it.
His hands were on Avery’s scalp, guiding him up and down. That had felt too weird a moment ago because it reminded Kyle he was with a man. He could feel Avery’s short hair.
But now that he was on the verge of orgasm, that seemed a lot less important. Pleasure shot up his spine, and Kyle bit his lip. He couldn’t help but cry out. He hoped no one out on the beach could hear him moaning.
He drilled in deeper. No girl had ever deep-throated him like this, or at all, really, they mostly just played with it and licked the tip. Avery’s throat was tight and warm and wet and it felt so good Kyle couldn’t even tell when his orgasm began.
His face turned ruddy like sunburn, his tanned skin turning reddish. Avery blushed too, his lungs crying out for air. Kyle flexed his muscles, holding onto Avery as his balls throbbed against the skin of Avery’s chin.
“Shit!” Kyle shouted as loud as he could.
Avery reached up to grab his pecs and his nipples. Kyle didn’t have huge pectoral muscles, but they were firm and bulged a little, especially now that he was orgasming. Avery loved feeling a man’s muscles mid-orgasm. Even men who weren’t very strong always felt muscular when they were shooting a load down Avery’s throat.
It kept on going, flowing, more and more, salty and sweet cum coating Avery’s throat. Kyle was young enough to shoot a massive wad that filled up Avery’s belly. It sat hotly in his stomach, and still it flowed.
“Goddamn…” Kyle sighed. He’d gotten girls to swallow cum before — twice — but they never let him just cum right down their throat like this. This was amazing.
At last he couldn’t take it anymore, the pleasure was so intense he had to pull out. Kyle removed his dick with a loud, moist gasp, the feelings coursing through him so intense a few drops of drool dripped onto Avery’s face.
“Shit, man, goddamn,” Kyle said. Now that he was post-orgasmic, his face was an even brighter red than before. His whole body undulated. He gagged a little when he saw Avery licking a hairy trail up from his crotch to his chest.
Avery sucked the sweat off Kyle’s chest, and he suckled on each nipple, catching a glimpse of Avery’s face outside the hotel room, still peering in. Kyle bristled and straightened his back, but didn’t say anything. Avery stroked his muscles with both hands. He came close enough that his dick touched Kyle.
“Hey, shush…” Avery said. He kissed Kyle on the neck, but Kyle just stood there. Avery had to move his long, tangled blond hair out of the way first.
Then Avery touched his erect cock to Kyle’s rapidly limpening manhood. Kyle sucked in his breath but just bit his lip. He frowned. Was it too weird to touch dicks? He and Pony and Scumdog had touched dicks, at least sort of. But was it weirder to touch dicks with a stranger rather than a buddy? Kyle was still pondering that as he nodded — he was too tired to give a crap anyway.
“Don’t worry, we’re just touching dicks,” Avery said. “I’m gonna buy you the best surfboard in that shop, dude. You want a hot dog too? I’ll buy you a hot dog from that cart out there.”
Kyle nodded just barely enough for Avery to see. His eyes were closed tight and he stood stiffly, sweat dripping down his broad shoulders. Avery sucked that sweat off too.
Their dicks jousted together. Avery’s was big and throbbing, veiny, hard, pulsating beneath his grasp. Kyle’s was the same size but soft right now, still a little spongy because he had already cum.
Avery didn’t mind that at all. Avery loved jousting with post-orgasmic alphas. Kyle didn’t really think about it. He was nervous about it happening, but after circlejerking and naked shower-wrestling with his buddies and then getting jerked off by this weirdo from the beach, a little jousting seemed unimportant.
Then he felt Avery’s orgasm through his cock. Avery stroked both shafts together, basically using Kyle’s dick to jack himself off. Kyle raised his arms above his head so he didn’t have to touch Avery any more than he needed to. He opened his eyes just in time to gag at the sight of Avery’s dick pulsating.
“Uh…”
Cum sprayed onto Kyle’s crotch and shaft, coating his pubic hair in it. Kyle’s heart raced and he held his breath as he felt jet after jet of creamy cum coat his cock. It dripped down his shaft and onto his balls.
Then Avery dropped to his knees and stuck his tongue out. He licked the shaft and balls and his thighs, chasing down every drop of cum. Avery giggled at the sight of his thick pubic bush matted to his crotch. He sucked all those hairs clean.
Kyle had never experienced a post-orgasmic bout of pleasure like this. It felt so good it hurt, especially since it was combined with embarrassment and humiliation. He still felt dirty. That just reminded him of the surfboard and his beloved Marsha — if he got this dome, the surfboard and then Marsha out of it, that was a good deal, he thought. Not that he was ever going to tell anyone about it.
At last it was over. Kyle stepped away and sighed. He reached for his board shorts and sandals. “Goddamn.” He was relieved. He sighed. “That was cool.” He raced to assuage his masculinity. “I mean, I’ve had better blowjobs from girls and all. But that was cool. It was… cool. It was… I mean… It was groovy.”
Avery smiled as he wiped himself off, exhausted but excited to have finally landed the surfer of his dreams. Kyle nervously babbled. He had only a pair of shorts and sandals to put on, but somehow it took Kyle more time than it took Avery to get fully dressed.
“You’re gonna buy the Nimbus 9, right? That’s the one I want.”
“Of course, baby,” Avery said. He wrapped one arm around Kyle’s waist. His other hand teased Kyle’s six-pack. “Whatever you want.”

The Hawai’ian Warrior

In pre-contact Hawai’i, Makana is a gentle young man, which means the other islanders assume massive warrior Koa would only come to him for a little oral service… But Koa wants to try something totally different!

This Hawai’ian alpha male is about to go twink on top!

The warriors had come back from Ni’ihau earlier today, victorious, with the blood of their enemies still clotting in their hair, running in rivers down their tattooed chests. That was why the day had been exciting, for everyone, warrior or no.
But now the day was done, the feast was had, the ancestors were thanked and Makana was home.
Looking out the opening in the sides of his hale noa, Makana’s cock twinged at sight of the warriors laughing on the beach. They were richly brown, backs lined with muscles, tattooed shoulders arching and flexing as they roughhoused and carried on. They were still pumped from the war party, that was why. It would take days for their jubilance to diminish.
One of the younger warriors glanced in Makana’s direction, saw his face watching with brilliant, flashing eyes, and then looked away and kicked sand towards the ocean. Makana waved when the warrior glanced this way again. He was cute — he had just faced down death and the island’s enemies, but still, he cast nervous glances in this direction.
The sun was going down, so Makana prepared his own evening meal. Dried fish in coconut. A few pieces of fruit. He felt lonely at nights these days, as he felt himself getting old, his joints aching, his sleepiness coming on earlier and earlier. The sun spent such short time in the sky.
But tonight that loneliness never came, even though he was alone; the island — Makana’s people — had shared a stressful experience and then a powerful release when the warriors returned with captives and treasure. He felt a kinship with everyone else here that he hadn’t felt recently. He felt united in purpose with his tribe.
“Hello, Makana…?” came a deep voice from outside his hale.
Makana peered around the edge of his hale and saw that sturdy-muscled young man. He had been bruised and bloodied in battle but was cleaned up now. His eye was blackened, nose flattened, one ear much swollen, the other lightly swollen. His worst injuries were on his right thigh, where the flesh was torn up by an enemy’s leiomano, a shark-toothed club. It was obvious he had been through a great struggle, and that his side may have won, but he barely survived. He limped but stonefaced through the pain. His leg was bandaged and poulticed, beset with herbs that would prevent infection.
His name was Koa, that same young man who was embarrassed when he waved at Makana earlier. This must have been his first battle, Makana thought, that was why he had been beat up so bad. And he had no woman, which was why he was playing on the beach even after the island’s other warriors had gone home to bed their wives.
“Hello, Koa,” Makana said. He emerged from his hale with a plain skin around his body. “Come in.” The evening was cool for this time of year, and the gentle sea-breeze blowing in borne on the waves felt invigorating on Makana’s skin.
Koa trembled as he entered the hale. His big body swayed with every step, muscles heaving up and down as if his heft beleaguered him. Koa was so broadly muscled that he took up most of the space in here and exuded heat that further filled the hale with a cozy air.
“What can I do for you, Koa?” Makana said, being pumehana and showing it in his voice.
“I, uh… I don’t have a woman,” he said. He was tall enough that his face was still aimed down at Makana, even when he hung his head. “There is no wife waiting for me.”
“That’s too bad,” Makana said. He led him to his bed in one corner of the hale.
“I… I had no one here for me when I returned from battle. There was no one to clean me and to apply salve to my wounds. Warriors need a woman to come home to.” His voice rang out as deep as the moon. “A woman to mourn them if they fall in battle.”
“Of course,” Makana said. “You deserve a wife.”
“I… had a woman whom I wanted to bed. But she has chosen someone else,” he said, as though that had been tough to admit. It shouldn’t have been — everyone already knew about that; if he had meant to keep it a secret, he had failed. Koa’s bare chest muscles rippled. “So… I am here.”
Makana nodded. He stood behind where Koa sat on the floor of his hale. Koa plopped himself on the cold stone ground, which Makana had swept clean today. Koa was so much taller than Makana that, even with him standing and Koa seated, Koa’s face was only a few inches above Makana’s head — his body from the waist up was nearly as tall as Makana’s entire frame. Koa lifted his head as Makana began rubbing his shoulders. He breathed in a deep sigh and then let it chamber out of him. There was great tension in his shoulders. “The other warriors, they say that you are… that you provide… sometimes… that you are available.”
“I am.”
“Available for things.”
“Indeed.”
“That girl, she was very pretty.” His shoulders tensed, then relaxed under Makana’s grasp. His muscles were firm as a polished pohaku and warm as a campfire pohaku. “The battle today… I have never seen a man die, not like that. I have seen the elderly die, and I have seen children die from sick,” he said. “But that is all. I have never seen a man I know well, a man I grew up with, laying dead on the beach. Blood poured from his head.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “And then blood stopped pouring. I do not know if he ran out of blood, or… It just stopped.”
Makana kneaded Koa’s flesh, which was tired and tense. Makana did not know what to say and felt awkward at first, but the more he massaged the powerful muscles of Koa’s body, the less the awkwardness bothered him. It soon descended into a comfortable silence, and Makana no longer felt a need to say anything. The silence was sufficient. Koa groaned with an intense sound, like he had never felt anything as potent as Makana’s delicate fingers.
“When I returned… I wanted a woman to be there waiting for me. Not my mother. I would have give anything for a woman to be waiting for me, to take care of me,” Koa said. He repeated that again a few more times.
“I know, you said that, of course you wanted a woman. You fought bravely for your people. You deserve to have someone waiting for you when you return,” Makana said. He kissed the back of Koa’s neck and let his tongue explore the broad muscles of his shoulder. It was lined with dark blue tattoos — he’d have more tattoos in a day or two, since he had fought and won his first battle, but for now he had only a few lines outlining his shoulders and biceps, enhancing his natural curves. Makana kissed each of those lines, while his hands reached around to his chest.
His dick accidentally brushed against Koa’s back. Makana pulled away, hoping that didn’t scare him off — a lot of these big warriors were willing to mess around with Makana but didn’t want to touch his dick at all. Koa seemed like precisely that kind of man. He was big and tough, brimming with machismo and power, all traits that women here liked — but he was too much of all those things. He was so big he’d hurt any woman he was with, and he was too crude to be seductive or charming. But he was exactly the kind of man whom Makana liked.
But that brief contact with Makana’s dick didn’t seem to scare Koa at all. If he noticed, he didn’t let on. He continued to groan as Makana’s fingers massaged his broad chest. His skin was smooth in between his wounds and a few remnant scars he must have accumulated in training for battle. Makana clucked his tongue and worked his hands lower on Koa’s body.
“I wanted a woman to be there for me,” Koa said again, and he was maybe going to say it one more time when Makana put on finger on his lips to shush him.
When Koa sputtered, unable to think of a response, Makana laughed and pushed his finger into Koa’s mouth. After a moment of hesitation, Koa sucked on it. “It’s okay, huapala,” Makana said. “You’re much too big for most women anyway. Too many muscles.”
Koa blushed and smiled, his anxiety vanishing, replaced by boastfulness. He flexed his biceps and made his chest muscles ripple, which sent a thrill of desire through Makana. Makana’s heart sped up, and all of a sudden, his hale seemed smaller and more snug. Koa’s expansive frame puckered beneath Makana’s touch, as Makana’s lips caressed the curve of his muscled arms.
A few beads of sweat appeared on his shoulders and dripped down his side. Sweat of anticipation, not from warmth. That was how Makana knew that Koa was excited as well.
“Now that you have me, what did you wish to do?” Makana said, his voice as soft as his touch.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what I want,” Koa said. He looked down. “You must tell me what to do.”
Makana stepped in front of Koa, flaunting his bare ass, which gleamed in the dim light outside his hale. His self-consciousness about his lack of breasts didn’t bother him in this moment, as it was increasingly clear it did not bother Koa. Makana was doing his part for his people — the warriors needed someone to offer them succor and compassion in private, and this warrior was one who needed him to offer it. He was all too happy to oblige.
The only surprising thing, Makana thought as he lowered his head to kiss Koa’s smooth chest, was that Koa wanted to kiss him — most of these warriors enjoyed feeling his mouth on their bodies and penetrating his rear with their manhoods. They did not want to pleasure him in return.
But that was exactly what Koa did. He kissed Makana on the lips, rough hands caressing Makana’s shoulders and roaming down his slim hips. Koa had thick and meaty fingers, like miniature clubs battering Makana’s tender body. Then his hands roamed down to Makana’s ass, which he squeezed hard. That sent a frisson up Makana’s spine, and he squealed as he lost himself in Koa’s arms and his warmth. Koa’s kisses moved lower along with his hands, as Makana moaned in surprise and desire.
Koa was so tall that he struggled to lower his head much past Makana’s bellybutton — he towered over Makana, so Makana had to stand on his toes. Koa’s kisses moved like tender butterflies as low as he could go on Makana’s body.
But even then, Koa could not take Makana’s cock in his mouth, not without kneeling, which Koa would not do — too proud, as a warrior, to kneel before any man beside the chief. Koa instead sat on his ass with his legs out, so Makana could climb onto his thunderous thighs.
That at last placed Makana’s smooth cock and balls (he had shaved off his hair just yesterday) right in front of Koa’s mouth. Koa parted his lips, trembled nervously and let Makana’s manhood enter him.
A wave of wet warmth washed over Makana, who gripped Koa’s wild mane as pleasure wracked Makana’s body. His cock fit perfectly in Koa’s mouth, his thick tongue rubbing against the shaft as Makana entered his throat. The warmth and moisture of Koa’s tongue battered Makana’s sensitive manhood. Koa didn’t move at first, like he had no idea what was supposed to happen beyond the fact that a penis was to enter his mouth. But then his instincts took over, aided by Makana flexing his hips, and Koa moved his mouth up and down Makana’s shaft.
His dick disappeared down Koa’s throat. Koa gagged when it hit the back of his tongue, but that didn’t slow him down at all. Koa twitched awkwardly at first, then his muscles rippled and flexed with increasing excitement.
“Oh, Koa…”
Makana’s dick was hard already, spasming and leaking precum into Koa’s mouth. Koa didn’t seem in the least bit put off by it, and he actually guzzled down every drop. Makana had very rarely been in this position and never with a young buck-strong warrior like Koa. He scarcely believed it was happening.
Koa pulled off Makana’s penis and looked at it as though he had never seen it before. He stroked it with one hand and pulled the foreskin back. He licked the tip and even flickered his tongue into Makana’s piss-hole. He threw his head back and moaned as passion overwhelmed him, and he let out a spine-tingling moan of desire.
Makana’s penis rubbed against Koa’s face. He kissed it and worshipped it breathlessly, and his tongue slathered wetness up and down the sensitive shaft. He suckled on Makana’s balls while Makana’s humped his dick overtop Koa’s mouth and cheeks. He was astonished that he was getting perhaps the biggest and roughest warrior on the island to jerk him off instead of the other way around. That happened so rarely he had always assumed it would never happen to him.
Makana looked around to make sure no one was nearby. Most of the warriors were at home, in their own hale, with their wahine. No one was on the beach, and the only voices he heard were distant.
“Don’t worry, Koa, no one will see, and no one will tease you for it even if they did see. They know better than to cross me,” Makana said. He was an herbalist for the island, and many a men came to his for healing when they were sick or injured. No one wanted to get on his bad side.
Many men also came to him when their wives were angry with them, and Makana would treat them as Koa did now. The powerful warriors who protected this island and its inhabitants deserved the tender, sensitive touch of Makana, he thought, but none of them had reciprocated an experience like Koa was doing now.
Koa nodded. He kissed the tip of Makana’s dick, then moved around to Makana’s ass. Koa rotated his body and groaned when he tasted Makana’s light brown asscheek, like he had never seen a rear end before. His lips caressed the curve of Makana’s backside.
Makana leaned forward and placed his hands on the ground. Now this, he thought, was proceeding in a little more typical manner — Koa was going to lick Makana’s bottom until it was nice and loose, then stick his manhood in. That was what Makana expected from a big warrior like Koa, one who was strong and enduring.
His massive head squeezing between Makana’s cheeks, Koa’s tongue tentatively explored around his ass, as though expecting him to say it was tabu for him to put it inside him. But he didn’t say that because it wasn’t forbidden, merely rare; Makana twinkled his asshole in front of Koa’s face.
Then Koa growled hungrily and dove in.
Makana gasped as Koa’s thick tongue pushed inside him. His tongue was just as disproportionately big as the rest of his body, so it squeezed into Makana’s behind. It was good to take such a tongue now, Makana thought, because Koa’s dick was much bigger. Makana wanted to be loose enough to could accept every inch of Koa’s manhood inside his ass.
He lapped at Makana’s ass, more and more enthusiastically with every lick of his tongue. Koa growled and grunted, snorting like a hog and breathing heavily. Shaking with erotic frenzy, Makana struggled to raise his ass all the way up in the air so Koa could reach it without stooping down. His tongue sent him into spasms of pleasure and desire, and Makana clawed at the ground. His eyes rolled back in his head.
Then Koa pulled out. Makana knew what was coming, so he lowered his ass and closed his eyes to prepare for both pleasure and pain.
But nothing happened. He turned around and saw that Koa had gotten in the same position Makana was in, his smooth plump asscheeks high in the air, well above Makana’s head.
“Lick me, Makana…” he said softly, weakly. He closed his eyes and shook his ass. His cheeks were smooth like Makana’s but not slim, they were rather meaty and plump, luscious, inviting like a banquet and no doubt tasty as one too.
Makana giggled and reached up to stroke his heavy ballsack and the hairy spot between his thighs. He ran his finger up to Koa’s ass. “You have to lower yourself, huapala. How tall do you think I am?”
Koa lowered his ass until he was on all fours on the ground, just like Makana had been moments ago. He aimed his ass up, placing it at the perfect height for Makana to dive in. Makana loved licking fresh ass like this, so he moaned as he spread Koa’s cheeks.
Planting his tongue deep inside Koa, Makana moved his hands to caress his cheeks. Then he slowly worked his way around to grip Koa’s dick with both hands. Again his size made the positioning difficult — he had to really stretch to reach Koa’s crotch from behind him. But he enjoyed working at it, and Koa’s asshole clenched around his tongue as he stroked his already erect manhood.
After only a few moments, Koa grunted loudly. It felt like he was near orgasm. His muscles pulsated and rippled above Makana’s face, which worked up a puddle of moisture in the crevice between Koa’s powerful asscheeks.
“Makana…” Koa said, keeping his head hung low. “Will you… put it in me?”
“You want me to do that?” Makana asked, his eyes opening wide, eyebrows raising. That was one thing he had never done — plenty of warriors wanted to do it the other way around and a handful had wanted to jerk him off. But none ever wished to be penetrated.
Koa, Makana thought, was truly special.
“Yes, please…” Koa’s voice was plaintive and desperate. He wondered how long Koa had been thinking about this. Koa only eighteen so it couldn’t have been for all that long — Koa had been a late bloomer anyway — but he seemed so desperate, as though he had been longing for it for decades. He was an old soul, Makana thought, that was why.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Makana said. “I’ll be as gentle as you need.” He stood behind Koa, on his toes to make his crotch line up with Koa’s ass. “Are you ready?” His cocktip throbbed at Koa’s tight entrance.
“Yes, please, do it!” Koa exclaimed. Then he bit his lip as Makana slid into him. Makana’s tongue had opened his ass up enough that he could get the first little bit in without any difficulty or pain. A constellation of sensations erupted deep within Makana, pleasure emanating from his crotch and spreading to every corner of his body, increasing with each thrust of his dick like the tide growing with every wave.
After those first couple of inches, Makana felt resistance and slowed down, though Koa showed no sign of pain. Despite his ass fighting and clenching, Koa lifted his bruised head and howled with pleasure. He threw his face back as though trying to kiss Makana, though he was much too tall for his lips to reach Makana’s face.
Makana worked his dick in deeper and deeper, surprised with every thrust that Koa didn’t back out or ask him to slow down. He gripped Koa’s tattooed back tightly and held on. His muscle squirmed and coiled beneath Makana’s fingertips.
As soon as his fingers reached all the way around his body and touch Koa’s dick, Koa bucked and gasped, bliss rippling through his musculature. His orgasm began then, but Makana knew well how to keep it going. He ground his dick slowly inside Koa’s ass, triggering the point of ultimate sensitivity, and his tiny body made Koa’s massive muscles shake and tremble — he loved the kind of power he had over warriors like Koa. He could never have bested them in battle, but in love and lust, he aroused their passions more than anything else.
He sensed Koa’s orgasm through the clenching of his ass and the writhing of his back muscles beneath Makana’s fingers. It was tight and bursting with power, and Koa groaned so loud he was sure everyone nearby must have heard. Nobody spoke of it though, so maybe their passion could yet remain in the shadows.
Cum sprayed over the floor as Koa shot his load in Makana’s hand. Makana had never seen so much semen at once, as if Koa had never cum before and was emptying his balls for the first time. It drenched Makana’s hand, wad after creany wad flowing like a river, but he continued stroking, even as Koa’s muscles contorted beneath his touch. His exquisitely sensitive flesh writhed beneath Makana’s grasp.
Koa twisted and turned as he plowed him harder and harder. Koa’s dick flopped limply between Makana’s fingers, but he didn’t tell Makana to stop. He gulped and swallowed nervously, accepting every inch of Makana’s dick deep inside him. Makana’s sac slapped on the firmness of Koa’s body too, a thwack-thwack sound resounding in the steamy hale.
Finally Makana was done too. He let out an intense grunt when an orgasm washed over him. He stopped moving for a moment, then resumed long, slow strokes of his hips as he spurted out a jet of cum inside Koa.
He had a big load too, just as big as Koa’s, and it seeped into Koa’s body. An intense and continuous flow of cream filled up Koa’s, the heat of it suffusing through his flesh. He sighed in sync with the last throbbing pulsations of his dick inside Koa’s behind, his juices spreading within him and dripping down his thighs.
It was unlike any orgasm Makana had ever experienced, more intense than he had thought possible. Makana had never penetrated such a man before, so he didn’t know if it was so knee-droppingly potent because that was how it felt to plow a man in the ass, or if Koa was simply that good. It was, Makana decided, a bit of both.
“Oh, Koa… you make me feel so good,” Makana said with a cringe and a moan.
At last it was done. They were done. The day was done, the battle gone, the pleasure complete and total. Makana pulled his dick out and wiped it off. Koa collapsed into a sweaty heap of tired muscles and bruised, tender flesh on the ground.
Makana closed his eyes and sighed. He took a cloth and dipped it in clean water. He slowly wiped off the sweat and other juices until Koa’s brown skin gleamed and shimmered again, and only then did Makana wipe his own manhood clean. He rubbed more of a a poultice into Koa’s wounds, but Koa was already asleep. He had a deeply placid look on his face.
In the warmth of Makana’s hale, he lay there next to Koa caring for him and experiencing an wild, thrumming constellation of emotions for what felt like forever. The moon hadn’t yet reached its apex when Makana finally curled up in Koa’s arms to sleep. Makana told himself not to get too excited — many a warrior had sworn to be with him forever only to change their mind when a pretty young girl appeared interested.
But for now, this was good enough, and that was all that mattered. He settled into the warmth of Koa’s firm arms and drifted off into a satisfying slumber.