paid books – Page 11 – Mansploitation

On the Run

Lamar is on the run from the police, so he’s staying in the barn of redneck Demarcus… When Demarcus comes to him at night, Lamar finds ‘on the run’ just might mean ‘on the downlow’!

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Lamar wondered if he should have just turned himself in. He would have ended up serving twelve to fifteen years in prison, but he could have gotten through that. He would have been treated like a king behind bars because he refused to snitch.
Instead, he ran. Lamar had always been fast, so he got away from the cops that night in downtown Baltimore.
But then what? He was going to be a fugitive for the rest of his life. They had his fingerprints. He even considered burning them off, but he figured that would be suspicious — who but a fugitive would be walking around with burned-up fingertips? Besides that, they had a picture of his face too, and they could probably find a DNA sample without too much difficulty.
Was this going to be the rest of his life? He was staying in a barn — an actual barn — behind Demarcus’s house. Demarcus was one of Baltimore’s most powerful Bloods. It was Demarcus who had arranged this and figured out a way for Lamar to sneak out of the city in the trunk of some white bitch’s car.
The only mitigating quality that made Demarcus’s run-down old house reasonable was that it sat on several acres of former farmland, which was dotted by barns and unused stables. Trees were slowly taking over the fields, giving plenty of obfuscation. It was an ideal spot for someone like Lamar to hide out in.
So the barn was where Lamar stayed for now. Demarcus said he’d be able to move into the house once things quieted down, but for now they needed him to be well away from the road, away from any prying eyes that might happen by. The barn wasn’t awful. It was green, the paint outside peeling. A few holes in the ceiling let in light and rain, but Lamar hoped to find a tarp and a way to get it up on the roof to block the holes.
It all seemed copacetic until that first night, when Lamar tried to sleep on the air mattress Demarcus had given him. It was uncomfortable and cold. The air mattress seemed lumpy. How could air be lumpy?
He was grateful for all the help he got from Demarcus, but he was nervous about how sustainable it was — would he be living like this for the rest of his life? What would be the point? He wondered how much extra time he’d get for running away if he turned himself in now.
Footfalls resonated in the rickety barn. Someone was coming in. Lamar sat up, heart pounding. What if it was a SWAT team? Maybe Demarcus had sold him out? Sweat beaded on Lamar’s shoulders.
But it was just Demarcus himself. He carried a flashlight, though he didn’t turn it on, instead using the ample moonlight to illuminate his way. He stumbled through the disused rakes and wheelbarrows, finally making a lot of noise when they clattered to the floor.
“Demarcus?”
“Oh good, you’s up, huh, nigga?” Demarcus said, his thick drawl echoing in the drafty barn, his voice stawkless as a white man. He sat down on the edge of the bunk. Demarcus had thick muscles toned by his own time behind bars, tattoos decorating his densely-scarred brown skin, including a deer with a target on its head tattooed over his chest. He seemed even larger and more menacing now, wearing only his plain white boxers in the humid air of this Virginia summer night. Demarcus was young but seemed old to Lamar, or maybe it was the other way around.
“Yeah, I, uh… I guess I’m havin’ trouble sleepin’ tonight,” Lamar said. He felt young and stupid. He was almost nineteen, but he felt like a child again, like he was asking Demarcus for a glass of warm milk.
“Reckon you just need to make this barn ya own,” Demarcus said. “Make it into a home ‘stead of a place to lay ya head.”
“Yeah.” Lamar was too nervous to think about this right now. Besides, the best way to feel like this place was his home would be to maintain control over it, and that meant scolding Demarcus for coming in without knocking. Not being in charge of it was what made it feel like not a real home. But he couldn’t very well get angry with Demarcus for coming into his own barn.
“That’s how I got through prison. When I first got the’uh, I thought I’d never sleep in that tiny, scratchy-ass bunk,” he said. He placed one hand on Lamar’s smooth shoulder, and left it there. “But once I hung up some pictures and y’know… jacked off in those sheets a couple times, it felt like home. You pickin’ up what I’m puttin’ down?”
“Yeah,” Lamar said, though he very much did not.
“It helped that my entire cell was Bloods. I felt like I was livin’ wit’ my brothers.”
“Really? Cool.” Lamar felt too nervous to really pay much attention.
“Hell yeah, we got through that togethuh. That’s how a brothah do,” he said. He wiped his forehead, which was soaked in sweat. “Do what it takes, nigga!” Demarcus laughed as though that was a joke. He drunkenly lolled and leaned back against the wall of the barn. That moved his hand from resting on Lamar’s shoulder to his back, and Demarcus’s entire arm weighed him down. Lamar couldn’t decide what that meant — was it possessive? Was he trying to seduce him?
“I ain’t know you was in prison,” Lamar said. “How long were you in for? Which prison was it?”
“Shit, it’s bettuh if we pretend we ain’t shared nothin’ personal. I don’t officially know you’s a fugitive, by the way.”
Lamar nodded. He bit his lip, unable to think of anything to say that was not a question.
“I was behind bars for four years, nigga. I still on parole, reckon, I got three more years, so I gotta keep my nose cleaner ‘an a Virginny hog,” Demarcus said. “But don’t worry, I still a banger at heart. We gangmates, Lamar, you and me. We brothahs too, in a sense. You feel me?”
“Uh… yeah.”
A long awkward silence filled the barn. Lamar was intensely aware of Demarcus’s arm resting on his back, fingers caressing the skin there. Demarcus breathed heavy, and the sweat clinging to his skin added a spicy, salty scent to the air. His fingertips rubbed the divot in the small of Lamar’s back.
Lamar decided to roll over to lay on his back — definitely on the back, not on his belly, which would bare his ass in Demarcus’s direction — Lamar had been around the block, he knew better than to present his ass to a booty bandit outta the penitentiary. He hoped laying on his back would make Demarcus lift his arm up and maybe move it away.
But much to his surprise, that wasn’t what happened. Instead Demarcus rested an arm on either side of Lamar, then leaned down and kissed him on the lips. He tasted like cigarettes and cocoa butter.
“Hey, do you and ya niggas still jack off on the downlow?” Demarcus asked. “Back befo’ I got locked up, e’ry nigga did that-“
“I mean, no! Not all of ’em! Of us, I mean…”
“Y’all niggas jack yo’selves off? Wit’cha hands? Like a teenager?”
“I mean, yeah, prolly, kinda, maybe,” Lamar gulped and faced away from Demarcus. Why did rednecks act like this?
“What about you? You ever mess around? You know, get a nut off wit’out no female to draw it out…?”
“Well…”
“I thought so, pretty face like you. Ain’t no nigga e’er smash you?”
“No!”
“Guarantee some nigga want to. Guarantee that!” Demarcus said, with a loud cackle and guffaw, then a slap upon his knee. He kissed Lamar again and pushed his tongue past Lamar’s lips. It was a long, slow, moist kiss that ended when Demarcus lifted his head, smiling as his hands caressed Lamar’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, what happens in the barn stays in the barn.”
“Is that a real rule?”
“It is in this barn. The green barn is where that kinda shit happens, the kinda shit you city boys call ‘on the downlow’,” Demarcus said. His kisses moved down Lamar’s neck and chest, and he even sucked on each nipple as though expecting to find a breast. His dick poked out the fly of his boxers, rock-hard already, and it jabbed into Lamar’s crotch.
Demarcus mounted Lamar’s face. He didn’t pull down those thin white boxers — which Lamar was now certain were prison-issue underwear — he just aimed his dicktip down from the fly and pushed his dick right into Lamar’s mouth. The taste of male meat assaulted his tongue. Lamar sputtered as musty flesh overwhelmed his senses.
Thinking Demarcus was about to lay atop him, making for an awkward sixty-nine, Lamar submitted. He didn’t like the taste of cock, and he hated being on bottom during a sixty-nine, because he ended up with big sweaty balls flopping against his nose and face. It seemed to happen most of the time when he sixty-nined with his niggas.
But he could live with that, as once he got into it, once his own dick got hard, Lamar could ignore the smell of manmeat on his own nose. Good sex, even with a clean woman, didn’t smell nice either, as far as Lamar was concerned. You oughta smell like a pig in heat.
Lamar wrinkled his nose. He was trying not to think about barnyard animals right now.
In any case, this didn’t turn out to be sixty-nining, because Demarcus never opened his mouth. He bent over Lamar’s body, slamming his dick into Lamar’s throat and placing Demarcus’s own head on Lamar’s legs, just inches from his limp cock. It seemed like he was going to open up and take it.
But that didn’t happen. Demarcus didn’t open his mouth except to moan as his dick leaked precum into Lamar’s throat. He humped his crotch on Lamar’s face, and those heavy balls kept slapping against Lamar’s nose, sending wafts of ball-scent and kinky pubic hairs into his nostrils. Lamar clasped Demarcus on the asscheeks to signal Demarcus should do his part.
Lamar hadn’t even stopped choking on the cock in his mouth before he felt a finger exploring his ass. Demarcus chuckled as Lamar squirmed. Demarcus’s finger didn’t penetrate him yet, just squeezed underneath his legs and played with the rim, which sent waves of both intense pleasure and awkward pain up his spine.
Demarcus pumped his hips over and over, keeping his dick in Lamar’s throat even as he choked around it. When he pulled out to let Lamar take a deep breath, Demarcus rubbed his neck affectionately. His callused middle finger remained on the rim of Lamar’s asshole, but Demarcus didn’t quite shove it in.
“Good nigga, you got it, you doin’ just fine. Won’t make you pay no kinda rent like this,” Demarcus said through gritted teeth, as though Lamar’s mouth made him angry. “Young niggas don’t know nuffin’ ’bout showin’ respect. No nigga e’er made you take a dick b’fore?”
“No!” Lamar said, barely managing to spit the word out past his precum-choked mouth.
“He should. They used to, when we was growin’ up. Cuz undercover pigs ain’t nevuh swallow dick, they wouldn’t do that,” Demarcus said. He didn’t wait for a response before pushing his dick back in, and in that same moment, plunging his pinkie finger into Lamar’s ass. “Guess it’s all ’bout bein’ a real man now, ain’t no room for helpin’ ya gangmate out. That’s some bullshit.”
Lamar squirmed and yelped around the dick spasming in his throat. The taste of ballsweat clinging to his face was intense, but even as he disliked it, he couldn’t help but admit the passion was getting to him. He had been feeling like a dejected loser since running from the police, so it was nice to feel a little lust and desire, even if it wasn’t ideal. Demarcus moaned as pleasure rolled through him, and he caressed Lamar’s skin. It felt an awful lot like fumbling, awkward sex with a woman who smelled bad and was firm-bodied and flat-chested — he had to admit he had done that on more than a few occasions, and this was frankly better than some of them.
Lamar had fucked with some gross women. His niggas made fun of him anytime he turned down sex. He’d had a reputation as a hornball since middle school. He was an early bloomer, and he could never quite live that down. He dated all the girls in high school, when he had been a champion basketball player and the girls threw themselves at him. Not so much anymore.
“I’m-a stick you now, okay?” Demarcus said. He pulled his cock out and, in one smooth motion, moved behind Lamar. He kept both hands on Lamar’s belly, not exactly holding him down but keeping him from moving away. “Don’t worry, I won’t make it hurt, baby.”
If he trusted Demarcus to not tell anyone, Lamar would have been more enthusiastic about this. But he had a feeling Demarcus didn’t really follow that what happens in the barn stays in the barn rule. People took that ‘downlow’ shit seriously back in Lamar’s hood.
A yelp of surprise escaped Lamar’s lips as Demarcus lifted his hips up, leaned down and plunged his tongue into Lamar’s ass. Lamar had only ever had a rimjob from one girl, and she was a nasty slut, so he had never really enjoyed it — it was always more of a theoretical possibility than something anyone might really do. He was especially shocked that Demarcus would do it to him.
His dick spasmed and leaked precum even though no one touched it. He was so aroused he thought he might cum just from the tongue delicately prodding his prostate. Demarcus seemed to know exactly how to do it right.
Again passion overwhelmed Lamar. Twinges of sensation sparked up and down his body. He gasped and writhed beneath that tongue, which seemed impossibly huge, somehow stimulating every inch of Lamar’s insides.
“In prison, I had a magic tongue,” Demarcus said with a grin. “I had niggas payin’ me ten fuckin’ packs of cigarettes to get my tongue in they ass.”
That image made Lamar grimace. It reminded him that he could end up in prison — that could be him next, he thought, and looked away. He was surprised that someone like Demarcus had willingly licked ass like that, but the rules for that kind of thing changed once you got into prison. Booty bandits and old heads get touchy-feely with a nigga, Lamar had learned that multiple times since graduating from high school.
But it had never been like this. He was throwing his head back, pushing his ass at Demarcus’s face. Demarcus was loudly, moistly slurping on Lamar’s asshole, lapping at it like he was going to find a treasure there. His massive mitts gripped Lamar’s sides and held him in place. The sensations his tongue sparked made Lamar cry out for more, every part of his body tensing up beneath Demarcus’s potent pounding upon his tender prostate.
But as he knew it would, the pleasure ended soon enough, leaving Lamar a quivering husk of desire. Demarcus pulled his mouth away from Lamar’s ass, wiped his face off with his hand and separated Lamar’s cheeks.
“You got a cherry ass, doncha, boi?”
Lamar hung his head, not in shame exactly, since it was hardly shameful to have an intact ass. He was just embarrassed to tell Demarcus yes because it was like giving in, like acknowledging that Demarcus was the superior man who could pluck that cherry.
But Demarcus got the answer even without Lamar verbalizing it. He smiled like a victorious invader, spat into his fingers and rubbed the saliva into Lamar’s asshole, again pushing a finger into it as he lowered Lamar’s ass to his crotch-height. He used Lamar’s duffel bag of clothes to prop up his hips.
“I’ll stroke you off too, if you agree to swallow ya own nut,” Demarcus said with a sick smile. “I’ll catch ya nut in my palm and you can suck it down…”
“What?!”
“Sssh, just say yes…” Demarcus said. “I wanna watch you eat nut, okay? Unless you wanna do ass-to-mouth, it’ll have to be ya own. You got a nice pretty face, nigga. It’s gonna look real pretty wit’ yo own cum all over it. Ain’t no shame in tasting ya own nut, okay?”
Lamar’s moan of pain sounded sufficiently yes-like for Demarcus, who smiled again and nodded as he pushed his dick into Lamar’s ass. It was a hot, throbbing slab deep within him, and Lamar’s body bucked and writhed in Demarcus’s powerful arms. He stabbed a symphony of sensations in the deepness of Lamar’s body, making him cry out in agony and in bliss at the same time. Lamar arched his back, shocked that his dick only got harder even as pain wracked his body.
But behind that pain was intense, surprising pleasure. Demarcus had loosened up Lamar’s ass enough with his fingers and tongue that Lamar could take his entire dick with relative ease. It also meant his prostate tingled with sensitivity even before Demarcus’s dick slid past it.
Lamar gasped and held his breath as unimaginable bliss and torturous agony hit him both at once. He rolled his eyes and bit his lip. It would have been so painful he made Demarcus stop except that Demarcus kept on stroking Lamar off, his callused hand jacking his shaft, lubed up by Demarcus’s spit and Lamar’s own precum.
“Yeah, nigga, you got a nice ass, let’s make it bounce,” Demarcus said. He lightly slapped Lamar’s asscheek and groaned when the movement made Lamar grunt, writhe and clench on Demarcus’s dick. His taut little buttcheeks, toned by years of basketball in high school and then more recently in a neighborhood intramural league, rippled with each tap from Demarcus’s meaty hands. Lamar gasped and writhed. Demarcus made some kissy noises and said, “Sorry, nigga, I know that hurt. I won’t do it again, I promise. Gonna make this feel good for ya one way or another.”
Demarcus even wrapped his free hand around Lamar’s neck. He didn’t squeeze, but he kept a firm grip. Lamar writhed beneath his touch, panting and gasping for air.
The pressure in his ass was so intense it was all Lamar could do to force himself to breathe. Both the pain and the pleasure were unbearable, and Lamar couldn’t help himself from orgasmic moaning as he instinctively flailed, hands awkwardly gripping Demarcus’s muscles. He felt his climax coming and tried to slow it down, but Demarcus was in relentless control of his cock and his prostate, so Lamar could only contort as pleasure spasmed through his body.
It was humiliating for Lamar to cum first — only a pussy of a man cums with another man’s cock in his ass, he thought, but he lost control of himself and he didn’t care, he just wanted to blow his load. He moaned so loud he was glad he was in a barn far away from anyone else. He howled and growled, and the aggression he felt was swallowed up by the confident thickness Demarcus keeping him in place.
“There you go, nigga… There. You. Go,” Demarcus said as though he loved watching men ejaculate. You could see the moment when intense pleasure erupted in Lamar’s body, his whole body buckling, knees no doubt would gone weak if he was standing, it was all Lamar could do to avoid explicitly begging for more.
But Demarcus could tell. That was what Lamar wanted. All the young pups secretly wanna get jackhammered by an older man like Demarcus. Even — especially — the ones who militate against it, bristle against an order from an older man, them is who wants it most of all. They wanted the discipline that can only come from a cock ramming its way into a hole that don’t want it. A proper man can force his bottom to enjoy it.
Semen sprayed all over Lamar’s bare chest, coating his six-pack abs and his tight pecs. Demarcus groaned too, as though he had been waiting for this moment. He sped up his gyrations, slamming in and out with each thrust of his hips. He used one hand to sop up all that cum, and he held it up, so they both could see the creamy semen dripping from his fingers in the silver moonlight.
Lamar knew what was coming, but it was still terrifying, and his stomach churned even before it happened. He opened his mouth, and Demarcus brought his hand to meet it. Some of the cum dripped past his lips before Demarcus’s hand got there, so Lamar’s tongue was flooded with semen.
It was intensely salty, powerfully enough that Lamar shocked at the bracing taste. It was creamy like alfredo, and it coated Lamar’s tongue. He groaned in Nelon’s bulging arm muscles.
He choked and gagged, but Demarcus had him suck on each finger. Lamar writhed, his orgasm having never quite ended due to his prostate stimulation, even if his mind was overwhelmed by shame and disgust as he tasted salty cum all over his mouth.
“Gonna clean you up, nigga, cuz that’s what a nigga do,” Demarcus said with a little chuckle that made his dick pulsated in Lamar’s ass.. He leaned his powerful body between over, kissed him on the lips and then licked his cheek. He gagged too when he tasted Lamar’s cum on his tongue and felt it coating his lips, but that didn’t stop from lapping it up like a cat with a bowl of milk.
He had his tongue in Lamar’s mouth when an orgasm hit him as well. His prison-toned muscles all shook and flexed, and he sprayed his load deep inside Lamar’s ass.
“Uh, yeah, take it, nigga…” A warm heat suffused Lamar’s body. He groaned, glad no one could see him writhing while cum covered his insides. It felt like more than any man could shoot, Lamar thought, shuddering, creaminess spreading to every corner of his insides. Each thrust of his hips sent another wave of goop through his insides.
In a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, pleasure sparked through Lamar’s body, the pressure in his ass intensifying the sensations into a tsunami of desire that crashed into Lamar’s mind. His hands curled into claws, as he gasped and begged both for more and for this to end.
Lamar fell limp, numbing bliss spreading from his ass as Demarcus finished filling him up. One final burst of jizz exploded within him, and then Demarcus stopped his gyrations. He paused there, cock limpening inside Lamar’s ass, breath condensing on Lamar’s sensitive skin. Lamar tried not to show how much pain he was in, because he wanted to seem tough, but after a minute or two, he couldn’t bear it any longer. He grimaced and tried to roll away, sending a fresh spasm of pain up his spine.
Demarcus chuckled and pulled out. He smacked Lamar on the bare ass, and laughed again as Lamar spasmed in pain. He leaned down and kissed Lamar’s on the plump asscheek. He gave it a loving caress.
“You got a nice, tight ass, Lamar. I’m gonna love you living wit’ me,” he said. “This’ll be real nice. I’ll get you some lube to keep out here, okay? That’ll make this feel better than you ever thought possible.”
“Oh, uh…”
“Say okay, nigga.”
“Okay.”
“Good,” Demarcus said. “You might be able to stay outta prison, Lamar, but you gonna take it one way or another. Have a good night, nigga. Sleep tight.” Then he walked away, stark naked with those prison boxers in hand as he strode into the moonlit yard. Lamar breathed a sigh of relief that it was over.

Smashwood Trailer Park

Rob is at it again, this time at the legendary Smashwood Trailer Park for an ultra-raunchy tale of redneck, hick, hobo, thug and hillbilly action! It’s filthy… it’s disgusting… it’s gotta be Smashwood!

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Rob Winthrop strode into Smashwood Trailer Park trying to look confident. This was a rough place, and he wasn’t a tough guy. Rob was wealthy, but he hadn’t let on when setting up today’s event. Hopefully nobody knew he was a billionaire. Everyone in the trailer park stared at him surreptitiously, but no one met his gaze.
Smashwood Trailer Park crawled with men. There were a few women too, but Rob could safely ignore them. They would be irrelevant today. Once things got started, they’d probably find better things to do anyway, Rob assumed. That was how it usually happened. And Smashwood was mainly home to single men, this part of it, anyway — the other side of Smashwood was for women and families.
Here was where the single men lived.
A gravel strewn with glitters of glass ran down the way, with a few dirt offshoots leading to tiny cul-de-sacs. The further from the main gravel road, the more rundown the trailers went, culminating in a suburb of sorts of shacks and shanties and lean-tos and cardboard boxes stacked in little palaces of rain-soaked debris, where muddy, unshaved men with wild eyes lived.
He went to the trailer of Baxter Pence, which was on a dirt road but not at the end of one. His was the last proper trailer on this spoke, as it was followed by a burnt-down husk before the trailers became shacks. He glowered at Rob but he opened the door and let him in. Bax Pence was a grungy hick, ropy-muscled and taut like he was hungry — he always looked hungry — with a heavily tattooed body that was very tan because he worked outside — he held up a stop-sign for a road crew — and rarely put a shirt on. He kept a tight wifebeater with him most of the time so he could put it on if he had to go into a store, but he only did that when he needed to. Around here, most stores didn’t give too much of a crap about the whole no-shirt-no-shoes-no-service thing. Bax was so tan he could pass for black if he wore a doo rag.
“Ah, shit, man… Let’s get this over with,” Bax said. “I got shit to do today.” He didn’t reveal what that “shit” was, but it was pretty obvious to Rob — Bax wanted to smoke meth. Or maybe sell meth, but Rob suspected the only reason he might have sold it was in order to buy it and smoke it for himself as well.
He caressed Bax’s ropy-muscled bicep as Bax cleared away some mud-splattered clothes from a small loveseat. His wiry body plopped down on it, and Rob went right to his chest.
He had an amazing six-pack, though it was obviously not because he was in great shape — it was because he was so skinny, he had that meth-addled physique. He even missed one front tooth, and his other teeth were chipped and yellowed. His body was greasy, unwashed for a long time, reeking of sweat and body hair, even though Bax was not hairy.
Rob pulled Bax’s cock out. He put the tip in his mouth and gurgled merrily on the nasty flavor — it was sour and salty, like unclean meat, like a steak you don’t want to eat. But Rob did want to slurp all that nastiness off. Bax’s muscles rippled beneath Rob’s touch. His tattoos were distorted and distended, like they had been done when he was much bigger than he was now.
A few other guys headed to Bax’s trailer, poking their head in but backing off when they saw Bax’s meth-starved body pounding away. No one wanted to seem too eager, so they didn’t line up, they just pretended there was no particular reason to mill around there, yet they did it anyway. They smoked cigarettes and pretended not to sneak peeks inside.
“Ah, shit, boys, he’s doin’ it!” Bax called out. He had decided there was no point in trying to be surreptitious or discrete about it. It was what it was. They all knew what was going on in here. His lithe body bounced back and forth. He wasn’t sure if he still had a hardon at this point, but his dick was in the freak’s mouth, so he was fulfilling his obligation as he saw it. All Bax cared about was getting enough money to buy his next hit of meth. “He best not stiff us, you won’t stiff us, right?”
“I’ll pay, I’ll pay,” Rob said through his moans.
“Oh yeah, Bax’s doin’ it! Bax’s doin’ it!”
“Shut up, man, don’t be a pansy. You’ll be on top-“
“Aw… fuck, there’s no way I’m doing it. I’m no-” That was the young redneck with the blond shaggy mane that was almost a mullet, Cabel Yoder, who kept blushing and looking away but sticking around with a face like someone had a gun to his head. “Aww, man, shit…” He had a big grin on his face. His pecs rippled beneath his sleeveless shirt every time he laughed.
“You sure?”
“You turnin’ down a nut, dude!?”
“Aww, man…” Cabel was clean-cut for a trailer park, in that he had all his teeth and no track marks. He was from a military and firefighter family, and he had some kinda Army crest tattooed on his back, along with rows of thorny roses. His back was lined with muscles. “Should I do it?” His cheeks burned red. He did like getting blowjobs, and he didn’t mind a blowjob from an ugly woman. This was no different, he thought…
Rob’s eyes were bugging out by the time he started to deep-throat Bax, whose cock got hard in his mouth. It was long but not too thick, making Rob wonder if his cock had gotten skinny when Bax started smoking meth just like the rest of Bax’s body got skinny. It tasted grimy, gritty, slimy with layers of sweat caked on, and Rob slurped all of it off. Before he knew it, that Cabel Yoder’s hardon was in his hand too.
“Aaah…” Bax moaned.
But that wasn’t going to happen. He writhed as his cock throbbed in Rob’s mouth. Bax was glad the meth hadn’t ruined his erections yet.
They were all going to ram Rob, all of the men in this trailer park. They were going to do it dirty, they were going to do it nasty, they were going to do it as one massive, multi-man pile-up, and Rob was going to enjoy every moment of it.
Rob got them to do this by promising two things every slice of trailer trash wanted: money and hot chicks.
Or one hot chick anyway: Jaleena Tight the porn star. She had been looking to do some kind of a redneck gangbang movie — they were hot right now — and she needed the rednecks. Rob, a long-time friend of hers, had agreed to provide them, and he middlemanned in the best way he could think of — only those trailer park trash who were willing to ramrod him now would get to gangbang Jaleena later.
So virtually all of them were going to do it. Most of the trailer park was coming in today, from this side of it at least. A couple of married guys from the other side were probably going to sneak over soon, but presumably without telling the wives. This wasn’t the kind of activity wives needed to know about.
“C’mon in, boys,” Rob called out when he sensed Bax was nearly ready to cum. Bax groaned — he had really wanted this gangbang to be more of a serial thing, not all-at-once. He didn’t need all of these white trash fuckheads cumming in his trailer. But that was already happening, with that Cabel Yoder and his buddy Jacob Billyman jousting in Rob’s open mouth, where Bax was smearing his precum on Rob’s tongue.
Rob reached out and pushed the door open, pulling off Bax’s dick for a few seconds to grab it. He thought Bax must have locked it, that was why no one had come in yet.
But the door popped open easily. That wasn’t why no one had come in.
No one wanted to be the first to start. They milled around and poked their heads in, gasping but trying to seem nonplussed when they saw Rob slathering spit up and down the local methhead’s shaft. It throbbed against his tongue, and Rob stroked it with both hands.
“Ah, shit-“
“Nasty-“
It was Cooter — Jethro Wilde — who came in first. He was older than most of the men in the trailer park, and he didn’t see any reason to dilly-dally. That was for young pups. He wasn’t going to be self-conscious, and he’d rather go now than wait for the nasty stranger to be all cum-coated and nasty.
“This the sissy who wanna get gangbanged?” Cooter said with a sneer. He licked his lips.
“Uh-huh, hang on, I’m gonna cum in a sec-“
“Nah,” Cooter said. He had a big hairy barrel chest, with curls of salt and pepper hair extended around the fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He was here laying asphalt this summer, and he had a burly body that was streaked with sweat and a few clumps of gray in his chest hair. There was even some cement that had gotten fixed to his broad shoulders. His sun-wizened face crackled with the layer of fine cement dust that clung to his skin and which flaked off when he moved. His callused fingers gripping Rob’s face to hold it in place.
Cooter dropped his jeans and slapped his dick on Rob’s face. Rob sucked on it too, leaving Bax’s precum-coated shaft to focus on Cooter, who had a nice thick dick, a big ugly knobbly prick that tasted like the sweat that made his chest hair cling to his body.
It was sour and salty and it got hard right away — Cooter didn’t drink or smoke meth, so he got hard easily. Bax was embarrassed by that, in his mind, it was very obvious that Cooter got hard more quickly than Bax did, and everyone who had even slightly glanced in the trailer must have noticed. He didn’t realize that no one was paying that much attention to him.
So he overcompensated by pushing Cooter aside. He meant to push on his thighs — because Cooter stood by the couch Bax still sat on — but he ended up touching his ass. “Get off, man, wait your turn-“
“I’m tryin’-a get off, and don’t touch my ass.”
“No, I mean, lay off him until I’m done, I ain’t cum yet-“
“You don’t know how this works, boy! Ain’t no ‘layin’-off’ until you done, that is the exact opposite of how this works,” Cooter said with a laugh. “Come on in, boys, the water’s just fine! He sucks a treat!” Cooter whooped. A few guys poked their heads in more openly, but no one actually came on in as Cooter had demanded. It was cramped in there, for one thing, and it was impossible to get in without touching Cooter’s hairy body and ass or the masturbating duo of Yoder and Jacob.
“Can you boys double-team my mouth?” Rob asked. He took both dicks in hand, pushed them onto his tongue and suckled moistly, letting Bax’s precum run down Cooter’s shaft. Rob loved mixing fluids from multiple alphas, and the part he liked best was that they acted like it was a betrayal. They both twitched and sneered their faces at each other, as they dicks smashed knobs together in Rob’s mouth.
“Hell yeah-“
“Oh… yeah…”
Actually neither of them were especially keen on jousting. But no one wanted to be the only one to back out either.
“Only pussies get scared of jousting,” Cooter said, eyeing Bax and rather hoping he would complain — Cooter was older and tougher (he thought) than most of the guys here, so he really wanted to demonstrate that today. “You ever done that before, Bax?”
Bax scoffed as though the answer should have been obvious. “Of course, man,” he lied. He gasped then as a pearly drop of precum slipped out of Cooter’s dick and onto his cock. Ah, shit, there’s another man’s cum on me, shit, shit, shit, they gonna think I can’t defend myself…
He was so entranced by that anxiety that he didn’t quite know what to make of the orgasm that hit him hard. His eyes opened wide. His dick was rubbing against Cooter’s older, thicker shaft as he gasped and writhed, pleasure rocketing up his spine. That pleasure came more from the friction of rubbing against Cooter’s shaft than from Rob’s mouth. Bax nervously bit his lip, subduing a howl as his ropy-muscled body twisted on the couch.
Cum sprayed down Rob’s throat, and he guzzled every salty, creamy drop. Another man had come into the trailer now, a scuzzy older man, not quite as old as Cooter, but with a more weathered face and a beard like a hobo. He was in there just in time to see Bax cum and watch all that semen run down Cooter’s shaft.
Cooter came too, soon after that, while the young men Yoder and Jacob needed only a few seconds on Rob’s mouth to add their loads to the mess clinging to Rob’s face. They were glad to get out of there early, before things got too gross.
Despite the sheen of white goob on Rob’s face, that out-of-town stranger with the wild beard came in next. The hobo-beard man— who wasn’t quite homeless — he told everyone he met he was “no homeless bastard” — ignored the stink of jizz in the room and didn’t even seem ot notice Cooter’s jizz spurting onto his leg as he came in. Cooter’s orgasm was loud and animated, sweaty, like a hyperactive coyote.
That bearded near-hobo didn’t realize that no one had rammed Rob in the ass yet (today). He was oblivious enough to not really notice or care that Rob was still sucking the cum off Cooter’s cock and that his ass wasn’t even bare yet.
“Lemme in that ass, bitch…” hissed the near-hobo who didn’t know anybody else here. His name was Ramblin’ Joe — t’was what the whole world always done did call him — and he knew damn well how to ram a goledarned sissy. They want it hot and hard and relentless. He had a jutting square jaw, a crooked nose and two cauliflowery ears, looking like a prize fighter despite his small size.
It was kind of nice, he thought, ripping Rob’s pants down and lifting him up, no need to be nice or gentle, all you had to do was ram. He aimed Rob’s face towards the door to the trailer, dragging him to the floor and jamming his dick in that tight ass even before it was fully hard. It went right on, sending a wave of pleasure up Rob’s spine.
It had been a long time since he had done wreck a booty, so that near-hobo, Ramblin’ Joe, whom no one knew was hard at just the thought of it. He was glad to see the other guys were cleaning up after themselves, since Rob’s ass wasn’t covered in cum already — not that that would have slowed him down.
The near-hobo gripped Rob tight, feeding his dick in, letting out a grunt when he was finally hard. Rob felt a tight pressure and a pinch. He reached behind himself to guide the near-hobo’s dick in, but the layers of dirty pants and overshirts were in the way — he had only lowered his pants, not actually taken them off or even all the way down.
But it seemed he didn’t need to do much anyway. Rob was on the floor and the near-hobo pounded away at his ass, hard and relentless. Rob reached for the cocks in front of him — he was angled towards the trailer door, where two guys stood there with their dicks out — Buck Sampson and Cody Lankford. Laughing with each other and ignoring Rob they took turns slapping Rob’s face with their cocks, letting him lick both shafts, though they hadn’t gotten hard yet.
“Ah, this sissy is naa-aasty!” Cody peered like an explorer at the sissy’s face, but he didn’t touch it. He watched with wide eyes as Ramblin’ Joe’s balls went thwack-thwack on the sissy’s chin, and Cody giggled like a girl when a drop of spit his cheek. He backed off. He was little, just a spit over five feet tall, powerfully built for his size but still scrawny, with a raggedy shock of mud-blond hair. He was bright-eyed, green as jade, with light skin and a youthful face, looking younger than his big-ass buddy Buck, though they were the same age.
“They’s all like that, man, I swear, they’s all into that kinky shit…” Buck Sampson shook his head. His mighty thirteen inch cock flip-flopped between his callused mitts. He was a roughneck like some of the others, home from the oil rig to spend his money on his woman, which in fact was where she was today, shopping like a mother hen, leaving him free to wreck this sissy in whichever hole was free when Buck got into the trailer. Buck was damn near seven foot tall, built like a stevedore, which was not a word with which Buck ever done made acquaintance with, and he had a deep huffy-puffy voice. “He prolly narsty, Cody…”
“Lemme in that bitch’s mouth, I’m gonna get a little neck, shite…”
Finally someone else was ready to get in his throat. Rob didn’t even look up in time to see his face — it was a biker who went by Greaser — so he could do little more than open wide and let his mouth fill. He had a little rattail of hair, skinny as a sumbitch, walking leaning back a little all the time, ready whenever the moment struck him with a comb and some grease to slick back his hair. That was how he got the name. He had a fat dick, which joined Buck’s and Cody’s and whoever else’s that Rob jerked off in turn.
As he swallowed Greaser’s erect cock, Rob tried to get up on all fours, but the near-hobo behind him was shooting his nut up Rob’s guts, so when Rob moved, he smacked him. “Stay still, bitch, lemme in there-“
“Yo, dawgie, lemme in there too,” said some black guy, a big shaved-head man with big ditch-digger’s arms. He pushed past the others, his erect cock rubbing against their asscheeks and thighs — which he did deliberately so everyone would see how big his cock was — as he pushed into the trailer. He grimaced a little at the sight of that cum-filled hole, but he didn’t wait. It wasn’t gangsta to wait to your turn.
The black guy — Deff Jasper — loved to gangbang sluts. He and his niggas Tyrell, Killer and all them, Slim Jay, Thumper, they all got a bitch to give up her booty and all on at lesat a monthly basis. Deff be gangbanging.
But Done never ramrodded a man like this. Thumper spent thirty-four years in prison, so you know he done wreck a honky booty now and then. Slim Jay was a straight up pimp, off the clock right now though, cuz there ain’t no point in bringing hos to Smashwood Trailer Park, cuz don’t nobody got money there. He do come by to stick it in a cummy asshole. Slim Jay always say a nigga has gotta stick his dick in something nasty now and then. That’s what means it to keep it real. Slim Jay ain’t wear his pimping suit today though. He got standards. Tyrell Brickley did likewise dress down, cuz he was a clean-cut kinda nigga with the ugly dick like a caveman. He got his meat in there using all them other niggas’s nuts as lube, and Tyrell busted a nut quick cuz a nigga like him got shit to do.
Oodles of cum gushed down Rob’s thighs, and his asshole gurgled up the cumwad still in there. Deff wondered how many men had already gotten in there as he plowed in, grimacing at the feel of cum spilling out and around him. That was Tyrell’s and Slim Jay’s and all them.
It spilled over his dark skin and into his pubic hair, making a big frothy mess. “Woo-hoo, shit yeah! Sloppy seconds, baby!” His eyes opened wide when his entire cock slipped into Rob’s ass without a moment’s hesitation — no girl had ever done that. His whole ten-inch shaft got sucked right in. He wondered if Rob was that slutty or if it was just part of sloppy seconds, if cum was really just a great lubricant.
The smell of cum grew overpowering in the trailer. Deff both laughed and wrinkled his nose. It ain’t never smell this bad when he gangbanged a female. But this white-ass punk smelled like a hundred hobos’s cumloads, and there might well have be that many on his face as far as Deff knew.
“Damn, boy, take that shit!” Deff smacked Rob’s ass and then instantly regretted it because he felt someone else’s cum on his fingers. It was hot and goopy, and it made his stomach churn.
There were more men in the trailer now, and someone’s erect cock rubbed against Deff’s ass. He tried to blow it off. It wasn’t a big deal — he had done the same thing, after all, just a few minutes ago. It was attention-grabbing though, the feel of another man’s cock right next to his asshole. What if someone attempted at him? Deff would have to throw down.
His anxiety didn’t stop him from filling Rob’s ass with creamy seed. He hooted and hit Rob in the side, just hard enough to make him squirm and clench around Deff’s cock. Deff sighed and pulled out.
“Make it leak out, bitch, I wanna see it gape and get frothy, shit!” Deff wanted to watch his cum spill out of Rob’s asshole, but before he could, another trailer trash — Ransom Wargrave — was already flopping his dick over Rob’s ass.
Wargrave was hard and ready to go. This was gonna be humiliating and disgusting but worth it if he got to fuck Jaleena Busty. Just picturing her and her enormous tits was enough to make Wargrave horny. He loved porn.
He was in his late twenties, wearing a football jersey because he had been a star player in high school, and he hadn’t yet grokked that he looked like a loser still wearing it all the time. He was skinny for a football player, like he was stuck in the thirties before they learned about protein powder and creatine. Wargrave slid his dick into Rob’s ass, surprised at how easy it was — he thought he’d have trouble staying hard with so many dicks everywhere (he’d accidentally touched ten or eleven on his way in here).
Cum poured out and added to the puddle on the trailer floor. Wargrave was ginger at first when he saw that, but somehow the disgust only made his erection throb harder, and he slammed his dick in. He chuckled at the sight of droplets of cum spraying out and around.
Rob focused on slurping on Wargrave’s dick. That was his usual plan in these sorts of gangbangs. He just wanted to get as much dick as he could, but his mouth was the part that needed the most active attention. The trailer trash could just keep plowing his ass, he needed only to let them go to town on him.
But servicing cock actually required his attention, at least the way he usually did it. The more this whole experience continued, however, the more Rob could just lay there — on his back eventually because that was easier — while he was plowed into on both his ass and his mouth. He got them all: muscular studs like Julian Bondarinko and his buddies Hyler and Specs, black guys — like this local musclebound rapper Killer and his multiracial posse Lamar, Mikey, Mane, Hansen and J-Moc — this tubby fatso named Piggie whose belly stank like cheap cheese, a stringy-haired beggar named Tommy Weathers, a trucker named Manky who was just passing through, crackheads with names like Belmont and Spider and Nugget, all of them came to make Rob as nasty as could be. As predicted, at least one married man from the other side of the park, Jerry Maple, did come over and get a nut off real quick, before his wife noticed he was gone.
“Gonna make ya dirty-“
“Ah, boys, that is some nasty shit, lookit his ass, it’s all… gross…”
He lay on his back with his head dangling over the edge of the top-step leading out of the trailer. That angle made it easier for scumbag after scumbag to throat him down, until his mouth was coated with gobs of precum, semen and puddles of his own spit.
His throat was sore, but this was the part that Rob loved most. He could keep his mouth open as though his jaw was slack, and they just kept plowing in. Every time one person finished spewing jizz down his gullet, another one took his place. Once he got into the swing of things, Rob could — and gladly would — deepthroat any cock, no matter how big. In fact a couple of them had noticeably tiny dicks, like that Mikey Thimble, but even that contributed to the nasty mess all over Rob’s face, and he appreciated the lack of self-consciousness these men had about that.
How many loads was this? Rob had lost count. He was pretty sure he had at least thirty on his face now. He tasted cum everywhere. He couldn’t even tell which loads were on his face and which had been shot right down his throat.
“Make him cummy! Make him cummy!”
“His face is so nasty, got like a million babies on his face-“
“Ew, don’t say it like that, man-“
“It’s more than a million anyway. That is so gross. It looks like snot and shit!”
The last guy on his face was a young man who had very nearly refused to participate in this. He was Chris Hazel, and he was only nineteen, barely out of high school. He didn’t want to do anything gross, so he had opted out. He didn’t want to gangbang a female porn star either. He had cute-boy dimples but white-trash hair, and his furry chest was meaty and well-fed like he didn’t come from here. He did come from Smashwood, he just looked well-fed for a trailer park.
But when the others started teasing him about it, asking if he was unable to get hard, he felt compelled to do it. He stuck his hard dick in Rob’s mouth and closed his eyes, trying not to feel the clumps of cum that stuck to his thighs and his pubic hair.
Rob’s face had been virtually bukkaked — most of the men had shot in his throat, so it wasn’t real bukkake, it was more spit and precum and spat-up cum — and Chris was shocked to feel that sticky seed all over his balls and his shaft.
The guys in Rob’s ass were the raunchier ones — it took a special kind of guy to gangbang a male stranger. It was the ragged, long-haired Logan Barnaby who was last to go in there.
“‘Course Logan’s doin’ it…”
“He’ll stick it in anything!”
He had climbed in the window to get in that ass. Logan would gladly fuck any woman in the ass — he was known for that in the park, he had no shame about plowing morbidly obese women, elderly women, toothless drug whores, any woman who would willingly give up the ass, he fucked them.
He done stuck more than a few men in the ass too, but he was at least discrete about that. Usually. He was in a hard rock band, and he had a hard-living kind of face, he looked like the kind of man who lived in his car, which he in fact did — it was parked at the end of a dirt road at the far end of Smashwood. His work-hard jowls and broad shoulders were sore, his hairy greasy and unkempt, his cock uncut and fat as the beer bottles he was constantly drinking from.
Going last was not bad at all, he thought. It was like swimming in spooge. He wasn’t even sure he could feel the walls of Rob’s guts. It was all cum, like dipping his dick in a sauce made of raunch. His long stringy hair rocked back and forth and covered his face as he watched that young pup Chris spray one last load all over Rob’s face.
“Ah, damn, bitch…” he said with a sigh as his own orgasm rocked his body. It was intense, prideful — he felt like he had conquered a weaker man.
He added his own cum to the soupy mess that was Rob’s ass. Rob was still on his back, legs in the air, so as he finally experienced the last throes of his potent prostate orgasm, Rob’s toes gripped Logan’s hairy shoulder-muscles.
Logan didn’t mind. He stayed right there, dipping his dick in that cummy soup as it limpened in Rob’s ass. He cocked his head to the side, marveling at the intense pleasure his cock could bring someone like Rob. Rob squirmed and squealed, making the jizz that coated his face and body stream down onto the floor of Bax’s trailer.
“Well, fuck, bitch, you are nasty!” Logan said, in a tone that suggested he did not see that as an insult.
“I know,” Rob said, giggling. “But thanks for pointing it out.” He sighed and began licking up all the cum he could get to from his face, chest and ass. It tasted like spit and armpit sweat and other flavors he couldn’t quite identify. He was so focused on that he ignored the men laughing at him — and at Bax, whose trailer was positively soaked in cum.
“Ah… it’s nasty in here,” Bax said. He hadn’t predicted this would all happen in his trailer. He had put a sheet down on the couch, but of course, that hadn’t been enough. He’d assumed the action would move out into the trailer park proper.
“Yeah, it’s pretty nasty,” Rob said, rubbing his sore ass. He giggled and blushed. “Just the way I like it.” He put his clothes back out, and groped all the men he could reach as he headed for the trailer park’s entrance. “I’ll send Jaleena over tomorrow. I’ll be your fluffer too.”
Once they were away from Bax’s trailer, most of them got excited about tomorrow’s gangbang, and they began to brag about who would fuck her best, first and in the most interesting ways. Rob couldn’t wait for that too. He knew he wouldn’t get as much cum tomorrow, but it would be fun in its own way.
Plus he already had a lead on a construction crew who was willing to cornhole the everlasting fuck out of him next week.

The Carpenter

Morgan Cartwright is a bitter man with a powerful need… one that the cute little twink Kwan Tung is eager to help out with! Can Morgan land the job?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Morgan pulled into the house on Maple Street, lost in thought about his daughter. She was dating a man whom Morgan hated. He hoped to come up with a way to get her to dump him. Failing that, he could try to intimidate the boyfriend. He’d done that before.
He was a towering, intimidating figure. He used to be outright muscular, and he was still just as strong. But he was past forty now, and he had a scruffy, hair-covered body. His dirty blond hair was in a long tangle behind his head, his arms ropy and strong but not “cut” like he had been when he was just out of high school. Back then he had a six-pack and thought it would never go away. He could eat anything he wanted to and still he had not a trace of fat. But not anymore. He had a daddy-six-pack and a dad-bod and a dad-beard — he was no longer stacked and he never would be. He wore the same ratty jeans nearly every day. He had on a red flannel shirt and a wifebeater underneath that, so he could take off the shirt if it was too hot in the house.
He knew a lot of females were intimidated when he did that. But he never hurt them, and he didn’t care about making them uncomfortable. If they couldn’t handle letting a carpenter in, they shouldn’t stay home alone.
He grunted and lifted up his toolbox. This was just a railing on a deck, that was all he needed to do here. It wouldn’t take long.
He could already sense that this house was going to have a single housewife here, and she was going to act like Morgan got pushy about asking her out even though he didn’t. He didn’t even flirt with women anymore. If this bitch filed a complaint against him…
He was already fuming about it even before he knocked on the front door. Bet she’d be pretty. Cocktease, but pretty as heckfire… Her name was Asian… Hmm-hmm… Pretty Asian lady actin’ too good fer herself…
The door opened, and Morgan’s jaw dropped. He stood there, unmoving and silent, his hand still upraised and ready to knock even though the door had opened.
It was a man, a very slim, feminine man with a flamboyant lilt to his voice. He had slightly dusky porcelain skin, totally smooth and unmarked. His body had an undeniably female shape, which Morgan couldn’t tear his eyes away from, but he was definitely a man.
“Hi. You must be the carpenter,” said the twink, stretching his long, smooth legs. Did he even shave those? Morgan thought not, they were too perfectly clean. Morgan wanted to lick them from toe to hip.
“Uh-huh.” Morgan grunted. His dick swelled in his filthy jeans. He readjusted himself as he stepped in, so he could walk normally. The homeowner — whose name was Kwan Tung — walked towards the sliding-glass door in the back of the living room, and Morgan watched his ass sway. He wore tight workout shorts which showed off his plump asscheeks.
Morgan’s heart raced, and he felt redness blooming on his chest and shoulders. He wanted Kwan so bad it hurt. He didn’t know why, it was just the feminine energy maybe. He seemed warm and soft, and he probably smelled like a woman and danced like one too, Morgan could just picture Kwan up on stage at the stripclub, pulling those shorts down to reveal perfectly plump asscheeks and a tight hole.
“The deck’s out here,” Kwan said. He opened the sliding-glass door and Morgan followed him out there. Kwan pointed to the wood at the base of the stairs. “So the railing totally fell off in that windstorm we had. It had been loose for awhile. I meant to do something about it, but I never got around to it. Now it fell apart. So I took off what remained of the railing, and I bought the wood down there for you to use.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is that enough wood?” Kwan giggled and blushed. “I mean, I know, you can never have enough wood. Or at least I can never have enough wood.”
“Uh-huh.” Morgan wasn’t even looking at the wood or the deck. He couldn’t think about carpentry right now. His eyes roamed up and down Kwan’s body, imagining what he would look like without any clothes on. He probably had a tiny dick, Morgan thought, just an overgrown clitoris…
Kwan clapped his hands and jumped a little on his feet. “Ooh, did you want something to drink? I made some limeade last night, just to use up some limes. I don’t need that much sugar. You want some?”
“Yeah. Cool.” Morgan grunted. His dark green eyes narrowed to slits, again watching Kwan’s ass sway as he went back into the house.
Left alone, Morgan was able to think for a minute. He calmed himself. He was just horny because his wife wouldn’t put out anymore. He hadn’t fucked in six months. Actually, he realized with a fright, it had been almost a year. What was the point of being married if your bitch-ass wife never even gave you a handjob?
He got out his hammer and some nails, and picked up a piece of wood. He was still frazzled, but once he got started, he thought he could focus enough to keep working.
“Here you go,” Kwan’s delicate voice rang out. He placed the glass of limeade on the table on the deck. It looked cool and delicious, but Morgan didn’t go drink any yet. He didn’t want to go near Kwan and risk becoming uncontrollably aroused. Kwan smiled at him. “I’m just going to do my yoga.”
Morgan assumed that meant Kwan was going inside. He started work, avoiding looking at Kwan. But when he finally lifted his head — having started cutting the wood into shape with a saw — he witnessed Kwan’s ass, cradled by those tight shorts, high in the air.
He was doing his yoga routine right there in the backyard, on a bright pink mat. He wore only a light half-shirt that bared his flat belly and those short-shorts that barely covered up any of his thighs. His asscheeks were partially visible.
After a few minutes, Kwan got up and squealed. “Is that my phone ringing? I hear something!” He ran into the house, brushing past Morgan, who moaned quietly at the touch of Kwan’s smooth body.
Morgan found himself walking into the house even though he had no reason to. He grimaced. He didn’t know what was going to happen now. He hadn’t even put down the saw, which was still in his right hand.
“Hello?” Kwan answered the phone. He scowled and put it down. “Damn telemarketers.”
“Hmm-hm.” Morgan licked his lips and came closer. He put the saw down on the counter. What was he doing? He really had no idea. A part of him realized he wanted to cornhole Kwan, but much of Morgan’s mind refused to accept that. He would never cornhole a man (at least not sober and not in prison or in the Army or various other places where it was acceptable).
But still, he put one of his massive paws on Kwan’s delicate shoulder and pushed down. Kwan looked at him with big wide eyes, which he batted seductively at Morgan.
“Are you okay?”
Morgan cringed and his voice broke. “Please…?”
Kwan blushed. “Did you… need something?”
Morgan’s Western twang echoed in Kwan’s ears. “Please, man… I need somethin’ impo’tant, yessuh. A man gots needs, ya feel me? Real needs. If’n they ain’t respected, you know… I ain’t down wit’ nothin’ unbiblical. But, y’know… God forgives, yessuh, I’m a believer, yes.” He pushed down harder on Kwan’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this. But his dick had never been harder. Morgan knew his words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t stop babbling like a moron. “I need summfin’, I got love in my heart. I got a wife, man. You know?”
Kwan still hadn’t gone to his knees, though he felt Morgan pushing him down. Kwan smiled and placed one finger on the bare part of Morgan’s chest, above the cut of his wifebeater. Morgan shuddered and moaned. Kwan smiled. “I’d never want you to cheat on your wife. Is there something I can do to… relieve your urges?”
Morgan grunted. His dick twitched in his jeans. “Man, please… I ain’t… It, uh… It ain’t…”
“But I think as long as you don’t mess around with a woman, you’re not really cheating on her. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Yes. Yeah, I mean, yeah, that makes sense. Uh-huh. Yessuh, uh-huh.” He pushed down harder and came so close his steel-like dick was palpable on Kwan’s flesh through his jeans. Kwan smeared some of the sweat that had collected over Morgan’s upper chest. Morgan moaned. “Man… I ain’t-“
“Hush, you don’t need to worry about that, Morgan,” Kwan said. “You’re a man. You have manly needs. Right, Morgan?”
The sound of his own name coming out of Kwan’s lips made Morgan moan again. His free hand — the one not on Kwan’s shoulder — touched the gentle curve of his waist. He looked so much like a woman.
When Kwan realized Morgan was too nervous to say anything further, Kwan said, “Morgan, I’d like to jerk you off. Is that okay-?”
“Yes! Oh god, yes!” Morgan pushed down on Kwan’s shoulder even harder, then added a second hand. He realized Kwan was still resisting and stopped. But he bucked his hips, virtually dry-humping Kwan’s belly and crotch. “C’mon, man, do it, do it, do it, okay? I need it. I need it. I need you, c’mon. You’re so hot. I ain’t like that.”
“I’m going to get on my knees now-“
“Yes! Yeah, c’mon, hoss! Do it! I need it so bad-“
“But Morgan, relax for a minute. You need to be calm. I don’t want you acting like a caveman and face-plowing me. Can you stand still like a good boy? Let me take charge?” He patted Morgan’s meaty side, and Morgan moaned loudly. His whole face was red, cock ready to burst out of his jeans. Kwan touched his dick through his pants and Morgan buckled. He had to lean against the kitchen counter for support.
“Yeah, yes, okay. Please, man? I need it so bad!”
“Good boy,” Kwan said softly. “Take off your shirt.”
Morgan let out a growl of frustration and ripped his wifebeater in his haste to take it off. His broad, hair-swaddled chest heaved for air as he was too excited to breathe normally. He was dizzy with desire.
“Do you have muscles? I only like to jerk off men who could defend me… you know, against, like… bandits, and stuff.” Kwan giggled as Morgan frowned but flexed his arms. His hairy armpits were bared, and Kwan sucked on each nipple, while his hands caressed Morgan’s biceps and triceps.
“Man… Oh god…” Morgan’s whole body undulated. His hard dick was painful now. He was sure he’d blow his wad the moment it got into Kwan’s mouth. He could already picture it. It’d feel so good rubbing over Kwan’s soft lips, spurting his seed over his face. Morgan touched those lips with his fingers without even thinking about it. His pinkie slipped into Kwan’s mouth, and again, Morgan’s knees buckled.
“Hmmm… You’re so strong,” Kwan said with a flirtatious laugh. “Okay, Morgan, you can take your pants off now.”
Morgan moaned. He raced to undo his belt. His jeans plopped unceremoniously to his ankles, and his dick popped out the fly of his boxers, which were soaked with precum. Kwan licked a trail from Morgan’s nipples to his belly.
“C’mon, man, swallow it… I need to get my dick wet…”
Finally Kwan reached Morgan’s crotch, and he hesitated for just a moment. Morgan’s whole body twitched. Kwan opened wide. He popped the tip in his mouth, and sure enough, Morgan’s orgasm began immediately.
As soon as Kwan’s tongue touched his cocktip, Morgan felt the most amazing pleasure of his life. He had to lean against the counter for support, and he gasped and bit his lip with such enthusiasm blood trickled down his chin. He sucked in his breath.
His whole dick was in Kwan’s throat. Nobody had ever managed to swallow his entire dick, not like this, with Kwan’s nose nuzzling Morgan’s crotch, Morgan’s cock filling up his neck and making him choke lovingly on its veiny shaft.
Kwan didn’t stop. He deep-throated and slathered it with spit, suckling like he hoped to get a prize out of it, while his hands stroked Morgan’s heavy balls and his thick asscheeks.
Finally a burst of creamy cum hit Kwan’s belly. Kwan didn’t let up, no matter how his lungs cried out for oxygen. He breathed the best he could through his nose and around the shaft throbbing in his throat.
The taste was warm and salty, sour and sweet and potent all at once. Kwan loved the taste of cum, and burly middle-aged blue-collar redneck cum, he thought, was the best. He liked how Morgan was unadulterated — he didn’t trim his pubic hair, he didn’t wear cologne, just plain unscented deodorant, and he had corn starch in his crotch because his balls got sweaty sometimes. He didn’t shave his chest, and even his scruffy beard was only there because his wife bitched about it so much he stopped shaving to piss her off.
He shot a massive load too, all built-up from months of frustration. Kwan’s eyes welled up with tears from lack of oxygen, but he refused to disappoint Morgan, so he didn’t pull off, even as more and more cum spurted into his belly.
Morgan’s whole body shook as he underwent the orgasm of a lifetime. Then he took a deep breath, looked down at Kwan as though he was done — though his cock hadn’t moved, and still throbbed veinily against Kwan’s tongue — and opened his mouth to speak. “Uh-” was all he got out, however, before his voice broke and his knees gave out.
“Shit…” Morgan’s red face shook as he slid to the kitchen floor. His cock slipped out of Kwan’s mouth only because Morgan lowered himself, shaking with every inch rubbing over Kwan’s cum-covered tongue.
Kwan let out a sputtering moan as he chased Morgan’s limpening dick. Every time he touched it, Morgan grunted and Kwan giggled.
“C’mon, lemme lick it clean,” Kwan said, and Morgan assented, though he twisted and heaved for air with every touch of Kwan’s tongue on his sensitive dick. “Hmmm… You taste so good… Your wife is a lucky woman.”
Morgan scoffed. His face was ruddy and sweaty. Kwan kissed his chest and his neck, leaving his lips soft enough to avoid giving Morgan a hickey. Morgan barely noticed his kisses, not even when Kwan’s cum-streaked lips kissed Morgan on his mouth. Morgan let Kwan’s tongue enter his mouth, while Kwan caressed his muscles.
Finally Kwan pulled off him. He stood, his bare ass just inches from Morgan’s face. Morgan felt another surge of horniness, tempered by the fact that he had just cum.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Kwan’s ass would feel like though. It looked so tight. Was he intact? He couldn’t be, Morgan thought, no way. He certainly didn’t act like he was intact.
Morgan kissed Kwan’s bare white asscheek, his scruffy beard rubbing against Kwan’s smooth skin. Kwan giggled and pushed his ass onto Morgan’s face.
But Morgan stood. He blushed intensely. He couldn’t believe he had kissed a man’s ass, literally. He sniffled and sucked his teeth like a macho again, and he shook his dick until the last few drops of cum slipped onto the kitchen floor.
“Alrighty then,” Morgan said with a grunt. “I guess I’ll go fix ya railing.”
“Thanks,” Kwan said. He watched Morgan go back outside, and then Kwan cleaned himself up. He could tell he was going to get anal. He could have done it right then and there probably. But he wanted to give Morgan time to build up more cum in those low-hanging daddy-balls. Kwan wanted to feel a massive load exploding within him.
He also wanted the railing built. That was a real job that Kwan actually needed done.
So he didn’t go outside until the railing was finished. Kwan knew the effect he had on horny men, and he didn’t want to risk that Morgan would wind up plowing him all day and never finish. It’d happened before.
Kwan put on a thong and a nighty that barely covered his torso and ended just below his hips. It covered up his crotch and his ass, but only just barely. He knew no men could resist him when he wore this outfit.
When Morgan was finished, he came in. Morgan had told himself he wouldn’t cornhole Kwan in the ass. Getting mouth off a man was one thing, but anal? Morgan didn’t think he could bring himself to do that, not even with a very feminine twink like Kwan. Outside of prison, etc. He wasn’t a booty bandit.
But he looks so good…
Having not actually seen him for several hours, Morgan was able to convince himself that it wouldn’t be an issue. He had been unspeakably horny earlier because of his wife constantly blue-balling him. He wasn’t horny now, since he had gotten the orgasm of a lifetime from Kwan already. He didn’t need to bust a nut.
When Morgan walked into the house though, he saw Kwan’s thong-clad ass poking out from that negligée he wore and Morgan’s whole body shook once again. That was a woman’s ass. Morgan really felt like he could look in Kwan’s crotch and find a pussy. He knew that wasn’t true — he had actually seen Kwan jacking off — but it sure felt true. Morgan could picture it. The negligée even made it look like Kwan had small perfectly formed tits, which seemed reasonable since he was small and Asian, if he were a woman, he’d probably have tits about that size and an ass just like that, and Morgan would be unable to resist trying to fuck her.
The only difference between that and this was that Kwan was not female. It seemed like a minor problem to Morgan’s dick, but his mind felt it was important.
Kwan was bent over by the oven, putting a load of sliced carrots in there. He had had them all arranged in a baking dish, but they slid all over each other as he placed the dish in the oven. He pushed them back into a single-layer, working quickly and gingerly because the oven was already hot. He swayed his ass back and forth in front of Morgan’s face.
“Sorry, I just wanted to cook these carrots,” Kwan said. He still hadn’t turned around, so he only knew Morgan was there because he heard him. “They’ve been sitting in my refrigerator for weeks, I wanted to cook them. They were starting to get floppy.” Kwan giggled. “I know you don’t have that problem.”
“Hm-hmm.” Morgan grunted. He came up behind Kwan, his jeans rubbing against Kwan’s ass. “Hey, uh, man, can I cornhole you-?”
Kwan closed the oven door. He turned around and blushed. “Won’t that hurt? You have such a big dick.”
“Man…” Morgan blushed. “Man, I mean… I’ll do it however you want. Man, please… I need it. I’ll cornhole you so right, man-“
“But your dick is so big,” Kwan said with a nervous, blushing giggle. He rubbed his hands over Morgan’s hairy, bare belly. “It’ll hurt real bad.”
“I’ll be nice. I’ll be so gentle,” Morgan said, his voice breathless and wavering.
“Will you lick it first?”
“Yes!” Morgan blanched. He had never licked any ass and wasn’t sure he wanted to do it.
But then he remembered how bare and smooth and perfectly clean Kwan’s ass was. He could eat that. It would be cleaner than his wife’s pussy, and he used to eat that all the time, back when he thought it might help his marriage.
“Okay! But you have to be so gentle! You’ve got the biggest dick I’ve ever taken,” Kwan said. That part wasn’t strictly true, but Morgan did have a big dick and Kwan knew telling him it was the biggest would ensure he was genuinely gentle. Plus it made Morgan puff up his muscles and chew on his lip swaggerously. Kwan pulled down Morgan’s pants and bared his dick again.
This time, however, Kwan didn’t want to do it in the kitchen. He grabbed Morgan’s cock and led him down the hall, into the bedroom.
“Take your clothes off, sweetie,” Kwan said. He handed over a tube of lube. “And put plenty of this on your cock.”
Kwan kissed his nipples and massaged his back as he did. Morgan hurried to take his clothes off, then used most of the tube on his dick. Then Kwan climbed up onto the bed on all fours, lifting his ass high in the air.
It was perfectly round and plump and juicy. Morgan took a deep breath — surprised to find that Kwan’s ass smelled like rose and lavender — before kissing first one cheek, then the other. Kwan wiggled his ass. Morgan’s dick throbbed.
He put his tongue out, surprised to find that Kwan tasted just a bit of salt, but was otherwise mainly flavorless. He could smell a bit of that floral soap too, but the actual taste of his ass was neutral. His tongue slid into the crack of Kwan’s dick and again was surprised at how tasteless it was — just a bit salty and musky.
The closer he got to Kwan’s asshole, the more Morgan realized it tasted exactly like a pussy — a clean, fragrant pussy, unlike his wife’s. By the time Morgan’s lips got to that tight hole, his hesitation had vanished. His tongue plunged right into Kwan’s asshole.
Kwan cried out. There was a burst of pain too, which was a surprise — Morgan’s tongue was massive, and he shoved the whole thing into Kwan’s small ass. But that was just because Kwan was surprised at how eager Morgan was. His soft tongue soon turned that pain into pleasure as it teased Kwan’s prostate and filled his ass with moisture.
“Oh god,” Kwan’s voice was high and wavering. He squirmed beneath Morgan’s scruffy head, which scratched at his ass.
“Hmmm… You taste real good,” Morgan said. He returned to lapping at Kwan’s ass, alternately exploring his insides and slathering his sphincter in spit.
Kwan gasped. “You’ve got the greatest tongue, sweetie. I’m nice and wide open now, you can ram me.”
“Oh god, thank you, baby, thank you, I need this,” Morgan said. He had never begged a woman like this. He still didn’t quite understand how Kwan could have this kind of effect, but he couldn’t deny how he felt. He needed to get into Kwan’s ass.
He spread his cheeks with both hands, eyes opened wide at the sight of that hole, which was tight and loose at once, stretched from Morgan’s tongue yet ready to clench tightly at a moment’s notice. Morgan rammed the tip in as quickly as he could.
Kwan grunted and shook. A jolt of pain ran up his spine, but Morgan patted him patiently and caressed his smooth back, which minimized the agony and made it manageable.
“‘S okay, baby, I’m-a make nice, sweet love to you,” Morgan said. His voice was throaty and moist. “Does it hurt?”
“Just a little,” Kwan said, his voice a faint whisper. He mewled and clawed at the ground. “It’s okay though, baby, you can keep plowing.”
“I won’t hurt’cha,” Morgan said. He felt an almost-uncontrollable need to plow as hard as he could, but he didn’t want to hurt Kwan. He wanted to experience every moment of this. He figured that, if he plowed gently now, Kwan would adjust to him, and then Morgan could go to town. He’d never been able to fuck a girl in the ass and have her take the whole thing enthusiastically. He could tell that Kwan would let him do that, if only Morgan could go slow enough until he was ready.
So he drilled his dick in, inch by inch, stopping every time he saw Kwan shake or shudder. Morgan was so excited to bust a nut that he hadn’t taken a breath since this began. When he started to get dizzy, he forced himself to breathe as he slid another inch of dickmeat into Kwan’s ass.
“Hmmm….” Kwan moaned. He reached behind himself to pour more lube onto his ass. That helped Morgan’s cock slide in, and soon, Kwan felt Morgan’s balls slap against the bottom of his ass.
“Oh… Ah… Uh….” Morgan was going to say something, but the pleasure coursing through his veins was too intense to form any words. All he could do was writhe and pump, grinding his hips over Kwan’s ass.
“Cornhole me, daddy,” Kwan said, cringing, his voice breaking. He sucked in his breath as Morgan began to pound. He went slowly at first, removing his dick in one long motion, and then ramming it in in a slightly swifter motion.
When Kwan moaned orgasmically, Morgan plowed a little harder. Kwan’s feet lifted off the ground and he threw his head back to moan. He clawed at the air in front of him.
“Oh… Oh…” Kwan’s face turned red. “Can I bite on your arm when the pressure feels too good, daddy?”
He placed one thick forearm in front of his face. The pleasure in his cock was so intense he barely even noticed Kwan bite down on his muscles and suck on his arm-hair.
But he could sense Kwan relaxing, his ass opening up, and Morgan rammed back and forth harder to compensate. He moaned, his baritone voice echoing in Kwan’s ear, as Morgan squirmed atop him.
Somehow — Morgan hadn’t noticed this happen — he was on top of Kwan, pounding away at his ass. Kwan was tiny and couldn’t quite support Morgan’s body, but he didn’t mind, he liked the feel of Morgan’s rough-stubbled chest rubbing over his smooth back.
Morgan pulled his face back and kissed him on the lips as he orgasmed suddenly, deep into Kwan’s ass. Kwan moaned and came at the same time, shooting his wad onto the floor. Kwan squirmed and gasped, kissing Morgan back but also nibbling on his lower lip when the feelings got to be too intense to take.
A massive load of cum drained into him. Kwan was shocked it was so big considering he had already cum once today, but Morgan’s balls were on overtime now that he had started plowing again. It had been so long. Morgan moaned directly into Kwan’s ears, and he left a layer of sweat on Kwan’s smooth back.
“Goddamn.” Morgan’s voice broke. A few more drops of cum filled Kwan’s ass.
“Hmmm…” Kwan moaned and sucked on the meaty muscle of Morgan’s forearm. “Hmmm… You’re an excellent carpenter.” He giggled.
Morgan ignored him. He kept on grinding his dick in Kwan’s ass, working out every last drop of cum. His balls were tightly drawn up against his body. Morgan’s whole body buckled atop Kwan’s back.
Finally he couldn’t take it anymore, and Morgan pulled off. His cheeks were bright red. His cock gleamed with moisture. Morgan was too shocked and a bit ashamed of himself to respond. All he could do was sit there on the floor by the bed and watch as Kwan cleaned his ass off.
“Oh you poor baby, you’re so tired,” Kwan said. He kissed Morgan chastely on the lips as he wiped his cock off with some tissues. “Do you want to take a nap with me? I’ll rub your back.”
Morgan was too tired to even say yes. He didn’t think he’d gotten a backrub since high school He sprawled out on Kwan’s silken sheets and let his muscles all relax at once. He was sound asleep from the moment Kwan’s delicate fingers touched his shoulders.
Kwan rubbed his back for a few minutes, then curled up next to him like a cat and went to sleep. He nuzzled Morgan’s bicep.
“Thanks for the railing,” Kwan said. “Maybe when you wake up, I’ll think of something else I could hire you for.” But Morgan still didn’t wake up, so Kwan just kissed him on the cheek and slept in his arms.
It was the best sleep of Morgan’s life, and his nap ended up taking all night and into the next morning. He awoke to the feel of Kwan’s soft body rubbing over him, Kwan’s tongue cleaning some of the night-time sweat off his chest. Morgan sighed and smiled.
He thought he might never leave here.

The Idiotic Lifeguard

When Rob seeks some work as a ghostwriter, he didn’t think it would involve interviewing a hunky but dim-witted lifeguard! His name is Gavin, and he’s willing to get down and dirty with Rob in exchange for a little consideration…

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Nobody hired writers who seemed like businessmen, even if that’s exactly what Rob was — he’d started a business as a ghostwriter. Clients hired writers who seemed like J.D. Salinger or Stephen King: a little socially awkward, a little artsy, a little weird.
And the nerds who filled the Dynamic Enterprise offices were more than a little socially awkward, not to mention weird, themselves. They would have likely been intimidated if Rob said straight up, “hey, I can write ten thousand words in a day so I’ll write your stupid thing in a week rather than dilly-dallying for months like most writers”. So instead Rob dressed in a flared cuff and a colorful shirt, accentuated his flamboyant side and spoke of how his “muse spouted a stream of inspiration to fill the world with words”.
They seemed to like him. He was probably by far the coolest person to ever come into this place — which was an IT company that provided support for something to do with the Internet — Rob didn’t quite grok it when they explained what it was. He would figure it out as he wrote the “biography” of their company.
“Do you think that would work? Or does it need to be the story of a specific person? Sorry, I dunno how that works,” said a bespectacled man in an ill-fitting suit. “I don’t, uh, read a lot. Except for, like, technical manuals.”
“Certainly, certainly, people do write books about a company, rather than a specific person, sure. I find it interesting-” Rob leaned forward and put one finger on his lips as though pondering. “-that you used the word biography. Fascinating. That’s the story of a life, and I think a company can have a life… can be a life, a growing, adapting, evolving thing-“
“Yeah, like a shark.”
Everyone in the conference room turned to look at the man walking in, and they all exchanged knowing glances. Rob’s jaw dropped because the newcomer was handsome — Gavin, a blond god with broad shoulders and a square jaw, dimples like a heartthrob and a smooth chin. He had a goofy grin like a cartoon character, and his eyes flitted brightly around the room as though expecting his shark comment to get a big reaction.
He was so handsome he made Rob’s heart skip a beat, but everyone else sighed inwardly, rolled their eyes and looked away. Did this guy have a reputation?
“I, uh… I’m sorry?” Rob said.
The blond man, Gavin, came in, carefully carrying eight coffees in two cardboard holders. He didn’t seem to have realized he could carry them like a waiter, on his forearms, and instead he awkwardly leaned back and pinned them against each other. It looked like they might spill at any moment.
“Oh, uh, I- Uh — ” Gavin was distracted by setting down the coffees. “You said something about growing and evolving, right? I have this game on my phone-“
“Yeah, thanks, Gavin-” said one of the programmers.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“-And it’s about a shark, like… you’re a shark — you’re not really a shark, I mean, you’re, like, totally playing as a shark? You see? There’s evolution. Cuz you can eat like… fish and, uh…” He spaced out for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Bigger fish, and like… like, you spend points on growing and evolving.” He ran his fingers through that incredible blond mane reaching almost to his shoulders. It was ragged and uncut, and it made Rob’s eyes open wide. He wanted to run his fingers through that hair. “So, uh… sharks do that. Grow and evolve. They can evolve into killer whales, I think, at like level 30. I don’t think real sharks do that.”
“Thanks, Gavin, for the coffee.”
“Thank you, Gavin.”
They all repeated that, one by one, until Gavin got the hint and left. Then they snickered, each of them seemingly thinking of all the snarky comments they didn’t want to say. Were they being nice to Gavin because they were nice people? Because he was nice — if ditzy? Because they were told to be nice to him?
“Sorry,” one of them said. “He’s… a great guy. Not the best assistant.”
“He’s the worst assistant. Totally incompetent.”
“Honestly we only hired him because he was a lifeguard who saved Mr. Winthrop’s daughter at the beach.”
Rob’s ears perked up. Finally, one of the nerds had said something interesting. A beachfront rescue by a lifeguard is worth writing about. Rob could stretch that into 15,000 words, maybe 20k. “Can I ask him more about that? That would be a great scene for the book.”
“Really? It’s a bad business decision. He’s not even a good assistant,” the man said as he sipped from the coffee and sighed. “This is definitely soy milk. Jerry, this is for you, he mixed us up again.” He rolled his eyes. “We have two Jerrys and a Barry, and that blond dumbass can’t ever keep us apart.”
They traded coffees until they got the ones they wanted, and Rob took a few more notes. Of course, they hired him, and they didn’t even balk at Rob’s rate. He would have this written in less than a week, he thought. When Rob had floated “something like a novella”, they nodded along, so he was going to write it at maybe 40,000 words. He could bang that out in a weekend if he went to a coffeeshop with broken wifi.
Even more excitingly, they arranged for Rob to meet with Gavin at lunch the next day, to find out more about Gavin’s heroic rescue of the little girl. Rob got a skeleton of the book written containing just the facts — that was already fifteen thousand words — and wrote down some questions to ask Gavin.
That near-drowning-cum-job-offer was the only human-interest story in the company’s history, so it was going to have to have a lot of emotional resonance, Rob thought. He hoped Gavin had something interesting to say. Without that, this corporate bio was going to be dry as a desert. Nerds are boring, and the companies they found are even worse.
Rob and Gavin met up at a coffeeshop near the company’s headquarters, where Gavin filled (incorrectly) coffee orders for most of the programmers. Rob was a little early, to get his laptop set up. Gavin showed up and went straight to the counter without noticing Rob.
His ass filled out his slacks nicely. He had big thumping thighs too, Rob thought, and his shirt hung off him like a dream. He must have the most exquisite back. He was a lifeguard too, he probably has great shoulders. Rob straightened his tie.
His physique was probably stupendous. Rob was picturing it as he waited for Gavin to notice him. When he did, he nodded and waved like they were old friends, and he almost forgot to pick up his coffee and key lime pie.
“Oh man, you’re outta them? Shit, dude, that’s… ah, totally lame,” Gavin said. “Do you have more in the back?” He loved the key lime pie here. He batted his eyes at the portly girl behind the counter, who blushed and licked her lips. Gavin had no idea he was flirting. He acted that way with most girls, and he just assumed he was charismatic. The portly girl batted her eyes and ran into the back to get more of the key lime pies.
Finally Gavin sat down with a slice of key lime pie and a “coffee” that was more whipped cream than anything else. It looked like a milkshake. He must burn off so many calories to eat like that and have a body like this, Rob thought to himself, wondering if he still worked as a lifeguard. That would explain it.
“So, uh, Gavin, thanks for meeting me here. Can you tell me more about Mr. Winthrop’s daughter?”
“Oh, yeah, man, she’s sweet as pie-” He pointed to the key lime pie. “And, uh, she’s like, nine, I think, or something. She really likes the boy band Slap Five. They suck though, really, it’s like so awful.” He beatboxed his impression of a tinny pop melody. “So lame.”
“Sorry, Gavin, I’m not asking about her in general. Can you tell me more about the time you rescued her from downing?”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, totally,” Gavin said. He took a big bite of key lime pie, leaving a brilliant green streak across his lower lip. “I was like, a lifeguard, like, on this beach, you know, on the Pacific Ocean. I was still living in Southern California then. And so-” He again paused to take a bite, then spoke with his mouthful. “There’s like, all these swimmers and shit, and Robby Munter said his cousin once got, like, nibbled on by a shark or something, but he didn’t get eat up cuz he drank a lot of coffee and that makes you taste bitter to sharks or whatever, like-“
“Gavin?”
“Yeah, sorry, I mean, Jean. She was like… a little girl. And I swam her into shore. And the other lifeguard on duty was this chick who got knockers out to here, man, seriously, I saw ’em once, shit, they were like fireworks, sherrrrplooowfat! And-“
“Gavin?”
“Totally, totally sweet, man, she’s got big nipples too. She’s got a boyfriend though, I think they’re married now. He’s like Persian or something. It’s ridiculous.”
“Can we get back to the story?”
“Is Persia where the cats come from? My mom has a Persian cat, it’s name is Rample and it smells like cheese.”
“Okay, Gavin, can we please talk about Jean?”
“Yeah, sorry — can we go outside? I hate being inside,” Gavin said. He flashed those big dimples and got up before waiting for an answer. Rob sighed and went with him. It was kind of cold outside, and it wouldn’t be as easy to use his laptop with the glare and the wind. But he could just record Gavin and write down what he needed later. Besides that, it was hard to say no to someone with a smile like Gavin’s.
And the way his arms nearly bulged out of that button-down shirt. It made Rob’s heart flutter. He loved macho men, and Gavin was one of the best he’d seen in a long time.
Gavin fidgeted with his tie as they sat down at the coffeeshop’s patio. Then he frowned and quickly untied it. “Is it okay if I take off my tie, sir?”
“Um, yeah. You know I’m not your boss, right? I don’t care what you wear-“
“Thank you!” Gavin quickly unbuttoned his shirt, then leaned back to display his chest for the sun. He was bronzed a deep tan color, and his body was perfect, shimmering a little in the sunlight, his six-pack rippling, his pecs flexing as he stretched. “I hate wearing shirts, man. I was a lifeguard for nine years. Shirts are like prisons for your chest, man. Totally.”
“Yeah. Cool. Okay. So… uh, Jean?” Rob looked around. This wasn’t the kind of coffeeshop that would tolerate a diner drinking coffee shirtless, but he didn’t tell Gavin that.
“Right, yeah. She’s cool. She’s sweet, man.”
“Tell me about the rescue, Gavin.” Rob was still a bit turned on from the sight of Gavin’s bare chest, but his annoyance was enough to make him wrinkle his nose. Gavin was so dumb and so easily distracted, it was a wonder he ever even functioned as a lifeguard.
“I don’t know, man, she was like waving her hands and stuff.” He shrugged. “There’s not much to say. I swam out there, brought her back to the shore. She was fine. She told her daddy she almost drowned, and that was the same day I got in a fight with my boss about boobs and I got fired. So he gave me a job here.”
Rob rubbed his forehead. “You got in a fight about boobs?”
“Yeah. He said Lindsay Tanner had better boobs than Sally Anne Whitaker-“
“The actresses?”
“Yeah.”
“And he fired you because you disagreed?”
“It was total bullshit! Lindsay Tanner looks like she has manboobs-“
“Gavin… I’m going to leave that part out of the book,” Rob said. “I’m just gonna say you were late a lot, so you got fired, okay?”
“Cool. I was late a lot. He said that was a reason to fire me too. Did you see Sally Anne Whitaker in River of Screams? Man, in that white blouse when it got wet? You could see the full tit, man, totally. Nipple and everything. Don’t you think she’s hotter than Lindsay Tanner-?”
Rob smiled. “But yes, I agree with you, Sally Anne Whitaker has marvelous breasts. I’d love to lick them or whatever.”
“Yeah, licking’s cool.”
“Okay, well…” Rob sighed. “I’m going to have to add something to make this a more interesting story, okay? Something besides ‘she waved so I swam out there’. Was there a bad undertow in that area? Rumors of sharks? Electric eels? Stinging jellyfish? Drug cartels in motorboats? Industrial pollution? Was she injured? Was she mentally ill? Did the beach management play a negligent role?”
Gavin said no to all that, and when Rob ran out of ideas, Gavin cleared his throat. “Hey, man, so you’re like… totally into stuff, right?”
“Yes.” Rob didn’t know what Gavin was referring to, but he was a great admirer of the male physique, and Gavin’s was remarkable, so Rob intended to agree with him as much as possible. He liked agreeing with handsome men.
“So, like… I know this guy… He was like totally, like, he was really cool, but like… he knew this guy who was like older… older than you, but older than him too, and… totally… like, I, uh… he said that, like, this guy… like… sometimes did like… where he paid money… uh for things, like…” Gavin’s deep voice grew increasingly pinched as he rambled and blushed. “For… things… you could do. Like… for… in exchange for money… Do guys really do that?”
Rob scrunched his eyebrows. “Yes, that’s right. Guys sometimes exchange services for things.”
“Really?!” His big blue eyes lit up.
“Yes, Gavin.” Rob smiled and patted Gavin on the bicep. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
“Yeah! I live right over there,” he said. He got up and nearly left his shirt and tie on the chair. Rob got it for him and followed him out the door. The shirt smelled of him, of sunlight and seaspray and sand. Rob walked a little behind him so he could see his ass sway in his tight slacks, and his brown back glisten in the sunlight. He went across the street to a small apartment building.
When he had opened up the door to the lobby of his building, he looked back at Rob a little fearfully. “So, uh… what do you want to do? I mean… jacking off, right? You’ll swallow my cum, right? Girls never want to do that.”
Rob smiled. “I would be glad like to jack you off and swallow your cum, Gavin. I’ll give you-” Gavin blushed and pumped his biceps, cheering himself on. Rob waited for him to stop, by which point they were at his apartment door. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”
“Oh.” Gavin looked crestfallen as he opened the door. “Ryan Delgado said he got two-fifty, y’know… to cornhole a man.”
“Oh? You’d be willing to do that — fine, that’s a lot of money, but I’ll do it,” Rob said. “I didn’t think you’d do me up the ass.” Once the door to Gavin’s apartment swung shut, Rob came up behind him and kissed the broad, smooth flesh of his back.
Gavin laughed a little nervously, which made his back muscles flex beneath Rob’s kisses. “Sweet, sweet. You’re not gonna tell the guys at work about this, will you? They’ll make fun of me.”
“It’s our little secret,” Rob said. “Why don’t you sit down, sweetie?”
Gavin obediently sat. He blushed until his tanned cheeks were almost burgundy, and he unzipped his slacks. He kicked his shoes off, and in seconds, he was down to his boxers. He sighed like he had been waiting do that for a long time. “Shit, I love a mouth. I don’t care who jacks me off. There used to be this chick who’d get me drunk and suck me off. She was like… super-nerdy. Like you don’t even know, like… she was weird. She did math. For fun! Like homework, but like… no school! It was insane! And, uh, like… she looked like a total nerd. She wore glasses. But she loved my cock-“
“Uh-huh. Don’t talk about ugly girls when I am on your dick,” Rob said. He got down on his knees in front of Gavin on the couch. His hands reached up to tweak Gavin’s nipples, making his pecs ripple and bounce. A nervously aroused laugh came outta Gavin, whose cheeks turned red. Rob pulled his fat cock out of the fly of his boxers and put the tip in his mouth.
Gavin murmured, “okay, sorry,” and put his hands behind his head. He leaned back on his couch as his dick stiffened up in Rob’s mouth. “Sorry, sorry.”
What was he apologizing for? If Rob’s mouth wasn’t full, he would have asked. Rob slurped on the tip of his still only part hard cock, and Gavin again laughed like a teenage girl with a baritone voice. His movement made his dick jab around in Rob’s mouth, which also made it hump the surface of Rob’s tongue.
That sent a wave of pleasure into Gavin’s body and a wave of arousal into Rob’s. Both men’s dicks raced to full erection, and Rob energetically slathered spit up and down the shaft. Gavin su ked in his breath.
Soon his was rock-hard, throbbing, leaking a few drops of precum down his throat. It was salty like the sea, warm and smooth. Gavin kept laughing every few seconds, sounding almost like he was ticklish though Rob could tell that wasn’t it — he was nervous.
“Shit, man, you feel just like a girl, that’s awesome. Ryan Delgado said his dude had a mustache and it scratched at his dick-” Gavin made a face like that was the grossest thing he had ever heard. “-but you have a smooth face, that’s nice…” And his voice broke, making him groan and grip Rob’s face. He plowed into and out of his mouth all without missing a beat as he talked. “And you’re not as old as he is. That’s cool, I dunno if I could get jacked off by a really old dude. Like really old. That’s so weird. Like… maybe if he paid a lot of money, y’know.”
Rob pulled off his cock and smacked his lips. He nodded, but he mostly ignored him as Gavin kept talking about how weird it’d be to be jacked off by an old dude. Rob was mollified that he apparently did not count as an “old dude”, though Gavin did call him “too old for college girls”, and Rob explained that there was no such thing. Rob may have appreciated the male physique, but he enjoyed the feminine one as well.
But with Gavin’s cock now fully erect and throbbing in Rob’s grip, both men were ready to move on. When Rob touched Gavin’s cock just a bit, the result was a painful-looking spasm of sensations erupting within Gavin’s body. The sound he made may have been a moan originally, but it turned into ironically moaning laugh partway through.
Once Rob had lubed up his ass carefully, backed himself up and lowered his ass onto Gavin’s dick. Gavin remained seated on the couch, head leaning back, like he didn’t want to touch Rob any more than necessary. His eyes opened wide as his knob teased the rim of Avery’s asshole.
But he kept talking, even as his dick throbbed and spewed precum. “Old people are crazy, like my grandmom goes to the cable company to pay her bill. Like she actually goes to the cable place. Like in a car. Like… in person. They have, like, a window.” His broad chest muscles rippled as he suppressed another nervous laugh. “Ah, shit, I love anal, girls never wanna do it, damn…”
“Uh-huh.” Rob had to lean with one hand on Gavin’s firm chest, holding onto him for support. An intense pressure shot through his body, and Rob let out a little, desperate grunt. Gavin’s muscles rippled, and Avery gripped the flesh of his bicep. He had rarely felt skin that musucular.
That touch finally made Gavin shut up for a couple minutes. He even lifted his head to watch, eyes slowly widening, as his dick squeezed into Rob’s tight ass. He watched as though flummoxed, like he couldn’t understand why his dick was doing that.
“Oh that’s so weird — it’s like… just like a girl, totally,” Gavin said. He scrunched his eyes shut tightly. He now faced Rob’s back as it slid up and down, but his eyes remained shut like there was a horror film on he didn’t want to see. His hands roamed in the air above Rob’s back. “Oh god — shit.” Gavin’s voice broke again, and turned serious. “Goddamn, man.”
Rob had to laugh, now that Gavin had stopped, as though Gavin had thought this was all a joke right up until this moment, when he felt an intense pleasure gathering deep in his loins. Rob stroked himself off with one hand, while the other leaned back and kneaded Gavin’s chest.
An explosion of pleasure in Rob’s body made him throw his head back and moan. Obviously, Gavin’s dick was knocking on Rob’s prostate, which always felt even more amazing when the top didn’t understant what he was doing.
His ass rose up and down, Gavin’s cock stroking his insides and sending shiver after shiver of pleasure up Rob’s spine. His whole world exploded in sparks of desire, and Rob writhed like he was in pain impaled on that spider’s spiked body, Rob cried out, muffling the sound at first before remembering he didn’t need to. He let out a howl as he reached his own orgasm just seconds before Gavin did the same.
Cum flew out of Rob’s cock and into his free hand, while Gavin’s load filled him up. It sprayed through every corner of his insides, sending a wave of mind-numbing pleasure through Rob’s body. It kept coming too, over and over, as Gavin’s dick moistly explored his ass. Rob had never felt anything quite like this.
His orgasm seemed to last an hour, and there was fluid everywhere. But somehow, intolerably long after it began, it was over, and Rob fell limp. There was so much cum inside him Rob could smell it, even though none had spilled and in fact Gavin’s cock remained in his ass, limp and spent. So why could Rob smell it? It wasn’t his own cum. Whatever it was, it was strong, and it made Rob want to fuck some broad.
Gavin’s ass wetly slid out of him and flopped onto his thigh. Gavin let out a sweat-soothing groan, while Rob squeezed next to him on the couch. Gavin’s body heat enveloped him.
“Shit, man,” Gavin finally said. “It’s so cool, that, like… I can do that and it isn’t even gross, y’know, I can just picture a girl. Totally.”
Rob leaned in to kiss Gavin on the neck. “Yeah. I did it better than any girl though, didn’t I?”
Gavin blushed. “Yeah.” He looked down. “I still like girls though, totally. With boobs — hell, yeah-“
Rob shrugged. “I just wanted to point out that I’m better.” He wiped his dick clean, as Gavin did the same thing with a paper towel. Rob went to his wallet, stretching his sore legs. “Let me give you the money.”
“Cool. Awesome,” Gavin said. “Are you gonna… wanna do this again?”

The Boyfriend

Forrest is a studly alpha trying to impress his hippie neopagan girlfriend, leading to an incredible man-on-man encounter! Forrest has gotta prove he doesn’t have any hangups, even if that means letting a man taking a hardcore swing on his manly meat!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“I’m sexually open,” said the other neopagan, the one who wasn’t hot. “I think that part of having a really open view of everything is being able to see the beauty in all people.”
“Yeah, totally…”
“That is so true! Beauty is all around us!”
Avery sighed. He hadn’t really wanted to spend this much time here, but one of the guys had such an amazing physique he couldn’t bring himself to leave. They were all shirtless — even the women were topless — and some of the women had gotten completely nude (or “skyclad”).
The one man Avery couldn’t tear his eyes away from was dappled in twilight sweat. He didn’t fit in with the others, and he sat apart from them at a picnic table, near the girl he had come here with. Avery watched him out of the corner of his eye, as he nodded along with the rest of the coven.
“Sexual expression is the holiest mode of art, after all,” said another one of the neopagans.
“The prudish media will never allow the sexual power of someone like me to be seen,” someone else said, a lumpy woman with an asymmetrical haircut and an acne-scarred face. “Because once they lose their monopoly on beauty, true power will flow to the people.”
The neopagans all rushed to agree. The only one who didn’t seem full-throatedly in concordance was the one Avery liked. His name was Forrest, and he was a burly, hairy-chested alpha male, a minor league baseball player who laid asphalt by day and was, seemingly, a neopagan. His strapping body had bulged from his overalls before he took them off and revealed his powerful torso and thunder thighs. He didn’t look like a neopagan, Avery thought.
Avery was also not neopagan. He had happened upon this coven when he was out for a walk in the park. He was removed from the situation, so for him, it was painfully obvious that Forrest wasn’t here because he had an earnest interest in the Wiccan holiday of Samhain.
Forrest was here for only one reason: to bang Vicky Suncross. She was the hot chick with the big, juicy nipples and an ass like a welcome-home sign.
It was clear he had only come to hang out with these neopagans because he wanted to bang Vicky. Pretending to celebrate Samhain was simply what he needed to do to get inside her. Men would do a lot for a woman like Vicky, who was soft and nice and had tits like sweaters. Forrest kept looking at her and blushing as if he hadn’t yet approached her and was working up the nerve.
Avery was less interested in her. He liked Forrest, the macho work-hard with a Southern accent, rippling muscles and an iron cross neck-tat.
Forrest was hot, big, horny, and he looked like the kind of guy who might give Avery a taste of his meat with the right incentive. On the other hand, Vicky seemed like the high-libido free-love kind of girlfriend, and she might even give him blowjobs. She seemed like the type. Sex-positive. Not picky about locations and settings. Probably likes getting caught. You can always tell the ones who like getting caught.
“Yeah, I think, uh… open… uh… sex is, like… okay.” Forrest said. He blushed like a shy cranberry and bit his lip. His baritone voice didn’t meld with the other women and lightweight men like Avery. You could tell from his voice he did something with his hands for a living, he was used to shouting over machinery.
Vicky touched his arm and whispered something softly that Avery didn’t quite hear. She was doing hand motions over some candles. She had explained the purpose, but Avery couldn’t have feigned interest in that even if she had put a gun to his head. It was a neopagan thing, some sort of ceremonial activity to garner, who knows, good luck or some dumb bullshit like that. Vicky might have mentioned “fertility”, like she was some kinda farmer who cared about how productive the landscape was. Bet she never grew a vegetable in her life.
He had only really agreed to come to the celebration to be polite and to eat the food. But the food turned out to be vegan, so he lost interest after a few bites. That wasn’t a bad thing, really, he had gone for a walk in the park to burn calories. Eating a big meal on the walk would have been counterproductive. But he did not enjoy the vegetables and quinoa he had eaten. It was not even very good by vegetables-and-quinoa standards, which were very low indeed.
The only reason Avery had stayed was Forrest. And now, as the coven began to thin, Avery was desperate to find a way to offer him money for a chance to swing on his dick.
Forrest’s deep, barrel-chested voice shocked Avery out of his reverie. “I got this cherry fuckin’ El Camino, in perfect condition. This guy literally cleaned the engine, the actual engine. He cleaned it… with like… a rag,” Forrest said. He went on to describe the car thoroughly — he had gotten his boss to front him the last two hundred dollars he needed in lieu of a Christmas bonus — which he was very excited about. Avery didn’t care about the El Camino, but he did care about Forrest’s rumbling voice and the sweat clinging to his bare chest. There were smudges of paint on his biceps and forearms from when he had participated in some sort of Wiccan ceremony before Avery arrived. Forrest ended his story with an angry afterthought. “But I ain’t realize they gonna charge me an arm and a leg for the insurance, man, that shit is messed up,” he said. “Now I might not be able to keep it. Insurance is messed up. Man. Right? Whole thing is messed up.”
Nobody else much cared about Forrest’s car either. They coughed, smiling politely. Forrest noticed how poorly he fit in with Vicky’s friends, and he looked down at the picnic table. He rolled his eyes and sighed. He wished he hadn’t told the story. Vicky patted him on the well-muscled arm.
After that, a big chunk of the others excused themselves — they all drove together, so they left together — which triggered a few others to head home too. The coven dwindled. The body odor problem improved when that thick bundle of “Lithuanian pantheon” neopagans left. Apparently Lithuanian neopagans don’t believe in Jesus or deodorant.
Finally, before Avery knew it, the coven was down to him, Forrest and Vicky.
“So, were you serious about what you said? About sexuality being open and stuff?” Avery asked Forrest. “Because that was really cool. Profound.”
“Yeah, it was, sweetie!” Vicky said, patronizingly supportive. She squeezed Forrest’s bicep, which bulged like Popeye.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, man. I mean… Yeah.” Forrest blushed and ran his fingers through his dense, tangled mop of black hair. He kept his arm low like he was trying not to bare his armpit.
“Well… if you wanted some help paying for the insurance on that El Camino, I have a proposition,” Avery said. “If it’s okay with your girlfriend.” He paused. “Will you give me a chance on your cock? I’ll PayUp you a thousand dollars to let me taste your dick. I’ll swallow. I always do. I’ll go deep.” This was not the kind of thing Avery would normally mention in front of a woman, but he sensed that Vicky would approve. She said her last boyfriend was black, and you know what that means as far as ramrodding goes.
She probably watched.
His eyes opened wide when his ears caught up to Avery’s words. Vicky squealed and giggled like she had never heard anything so silly. They both blushed. She blushed a bright red immediately, then laughed. His eyes bugged out, and he blushed very slowly, growing from tan to ruddy to bright red over the next few minutes.
Forrest blushed. “Oh, uh…” He looked at Vicky as though hoping she would forbid it, but it was clear she was into it. “I, uh…”
“Oh my god, you need this, sweetie,” she said. She looked at Avery. “He’s got a really big dick. He wants me to throat it down, but I’m like, no way. I’ll swallow half your pinkie finger, that’s it, that’s my limit.” She laughed; she held up one of her pinkies to demonstrate. Forrest wrinkled his nose like he was annoyed at her. She put her pinkie in her mouth as though to demonstrate that it didn’t fit.
Avery smiled. “Big cocks are wasted on you, you crazy bitch,” he said, which made her laugh harder. She slapped her knee. Avery looked up at Forrest’s beet-red face. “You alright? You into this?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah… Fine… Okay… Whatever, sure. Okay.” He closed his eyes and sighed again. He looked at Vicky. “Are you sure this is okay with you? You won’t be jealous…?”
“No, oh my god, no! This’ll be so hot. I’ll play with myself while you do it, okay? You wanna watch me?”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “I can do that. It’s just… A mouth is a mouth, right? It doesn’t matter. Okay. Sure. It’s just a stranger’s mouth. No big deal.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Cuz, uh… sexuality is ’bout the… earth mother, and stuff.” He leaned back on the picnic table and snorted. He undid the fly on the overalls he had put back on, and Avery got down on the ground in front of him.
Forrest stared straight ahead at his girlfriend, as though he would get hurt if he accidentally saw his dick in Avery’s mouth. Avery unzipped his jeans and popped his cock out. He was glad to see that Vicky was not kidding about him having a big dick — sometimes nice girls like her didn’t know what counted as “big”, but Vicky had been right on the money. His dick was at least ten inches long even before it was hard, and it was as thick around as a baseball bat.
A grumble escaped from Forrest’s lips as his dick flopped onto Avery’s face. It tasted clean and soapy, warm, inviting and meaty, like a nice stew, with a strong umami to it. A shiver of either discomfort or pleasure or maybe a mixture of both ran through Forrest’s body, and he even when he shook he kept his eyes deeply trained on his limp dick roping around over Avery’s face. He moved his forearm near his eyes like he wanted to block his view but couldn’t bring himself to do it, either because he didn’t trust Avery and wanted to watch or him or because he wanted to watch his girlfriend finger herself. His eyes were wild and frantic, and he held his breath even as his whole body stayed still, watching Avery lick the funk off Forrest’s fat shaft, his tongue encircling it and slathering spit all up and down it.
“Ah, damn, alright then, alright, alright,” Forrest said. His face was a bright red, and his neckless shoulders were beading up with sweat. He licked his lips. His shoulders were as hard as rock — he was tense, muscles firm like a statue. He stared at Vicky as though his life depended on it, like the slightest view of his dick in Avery’s mouth would be a disaster.
Forrest gurgled and choked nervously when Avery’s fingers reached up to his bare chest. His muscles didn’t throb or ripple because they were tensed and unable to relax even for a moment. His pecs were like boulders beneath Avery’s grasp.
“Are you okay, Forrest?” Vicky asked.
“Yeah.” He sounded like he was about to vomit and had to physically hold himself back. He gasped but cut it off mid-gasp by biting his lip. He hadn’t taken a full breath or possibly any breath in some time.
Despite his obvious terror, Forrest’s dick jerked up in Avery’s mouth. It felt purely physical, like Avery could tell from its fleshy texture that Forrest was not aroused by choice. Forrest’s eyes were firmly trained on Vicky’s wet pussy, but it looked like he didn’t register what he was seeing. All of his concentration was aimed at not looking at, touching or interacting with Avery in any way.
Then his cock spasmed, and Forrest moaned like it hurt. He gripped the picnic table with both hands as though trying to rip it to pieces. Or he felt an intense urge to grab onto Avery’s head and plow into his throat, slamming into him until his balls slapped against his chin, but he couldn’t do that both because he didn’t want to touch Avery’s head and because Vicky was too much of a hippie to be turned on by that.
“Oh, god…”
“Does that feel good, baby?” she asked, her voice a low, slow croon. She fingered herself slowly, just a few yards away so Forrest could watch.
“Yes.”
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Does his mouth feel good-?’
“Yes.” His voice stayed tense as a guitar string.
“Relax, baby, relax,” she said. She came closer and kissed him on the lips, making sure to stay out of Avery’s way.
That seemed to help a lot. As soon as Forrest came into contact with Vicky’s mouth and body, he sighed. His muscles relaxed like warm pudding, and Avery got a mouthful of precum. He gurgled and suckled on it loudly.
Avery grabbed one of Forrest’s meaty, callused hands. He guided it to the back of his head. Forrest didn’t notice at first, focused instead on kissing Vicky, but when he realized he touched Avery’s hair, Forrest dropped his hand away.
A sharp gasp escaped from Forrest’s lips. Avery giggled. It was always fun to tease an alpha.
Avery moved lower on Forrest’s cock, licking his veiny root. Then he got into his hairy crotch and filled his mouth with both of Forrest’s plump balls. They were sweaty and dingy and they tasted like the essence of manhood. Avery loved it. He gurgled and loudly drained every last drop of fluids from his scrotum.
“Aw, man, he’s slurpin’ my balls… He’s slurpin’ my balls…” Forrest’s deep, rumbling voice sounded weak and plaintive. He kept his eyes trained directly on Vicky, who cradled his head in her arms.
“You can tell him to stop, baby,” Vicky said. “It’s okay. I’m sure he’ll stop.”
Forrest shifted his weight on his plump asscheeks. He took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s okay. It’s cool and all, no problem. I’m, uh… It’s okay. No big deal. Just… I ain’t know that was a thing… you know, that people did… that guys did, y’know, that they did that… I didn’t know balls were… like… a thing… You know, whatever. I’m not into none of the… It’s okay though, I mean… free sexuality and all that, you know, like tolerance. And stuff. All that. Cool, cool, cool. This is fine,” he said. He forced a wan smile aimed at her. He gasped and bit his lip, a shiver of pleasure running up his back. His veiny shaft throbbed in Avery’s mouth. Forrest seemed even more nervous, like Vicky had caught him in something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. “It’s all that… uh… spectrum stuff, and energies… Like the energies you were talking about, the female and the… the spirits… spiritual energy. It’s… uh… yeah.”
“Does it feel good, baby?”
“Yeah.” That sounded like a lie. He blushed intensely and sputtered. “I mean, it’s okay. It’s cool. It feels good. Yep. Not as good as you, sweetie. I like you. I like girls. I like you. Girls in general, and you specifically. Girls. Women! Ladies! Females! No, women. Yep. This is fine. It’s okay. I can do it. Yep, no problem.” He forced out a very unconvincing moan — it was strictly amateur theater, and it made Avery giggle. Forrest cleared his throat. “I prefer you though. I still prefer girls. You. One girl. You, I mean. You’re special. I, uh… I’m not… I’m, uh… Just… uh… Girls… Yep. Women.” He paused. “Pussy. No! Vaginas.”
Vicky giggled too. She kissed Forrest on the cheek, her tits brushing over his muscled chest. He groaned and relaxed. She caressed his shoulders. “Relax, baby, just relax and enjoy it.
“Yep. Okay. Fun.” Forrest squirmed.
The more Vicky touched him, the more Forrest’s cock throbbed and leaked precum. It was salty and thick, coating Avery’s throat. He loved it. He had jacked off alphas while they messed around with a girl before, but he had never done it like this.
He pulled off Forrest’s cock before he came. He let him recover, while Avery licked his nipples and his pulsating pectorals. Forrest still hadn’t looked at Avery since this began, and now he stared right at Vicky’s tits. His heart raced beneath his mountainous chest, which rippled under Avery’s teasing tongue.
Avery turned around. He was glad he had shaved his ass just last night. He knew from personal experience that the best way to scare off an alpha was to have a hairy ass or chin. Forrest would have freaked out if he felt hair on his cock.
His cock plopped into Avery’s tight hole, sending a wave of pleasure up Avery’s spine. A few beads of sweat appeared on Forrest’s broad shoulders, and for just a moment, he touched Avery’s ass to guide his cock in. Then he let go and held his hands in the air as though to prove he wasn’t touching Avery.
“Oh shit! Baby! You see that? Baby, he’s got it in his ass!” Forrest was plaintive, like a boy tattling on his brother. He clapped his hands one time above his head.
“That’s so sexy, sweetie,” Vicky said. She guided one of Forrest’s fingers to her pussy. She kissed him on the neck.
Forrest closed his eyes as his manhood slid into Avery’s ass. Avery threw his head back and moaned, making sure to sound as feminine as he could muster. Forrest’s dick was rock-hard despite his discomfort.
“Oh, great Earth Mother…” Vicky continued her prayer, but she whispered it into Forrest’s ear. He must have liked hearing her voice — and she licked his earlobe a bit — because he twitched and sighed. Avery heard her say something about masculine energies, and he suspected she puffed up Forrest’s ego with her words.
A jolt of pain hit Avery, both because Forrest had a huge cock and because the positioning was kind of awkward. Avery had to guide himself up and down, and Forrest’s huge body was sprawled out, taking up all of the space on the picnic table. There was nothing for Avery to grab onto for leverage, except for Forrest’s trunk-like thighs.
“Oh, yeah, man, stick it in me,” Avery said with a flamboyant lilt to his voice. He looked back at Forrest, whose face was red and tense, eyes closed, lips pursed. Avery giggled and stroked his chest. “I’ll give you another thousand dollars to give me a reacharound.”
All was silent, except for the moist squishing sound of Avery impaling himself on Forrest’s cock. It wasn’t clear that Forrest even heard Avery’s words. Forrest was slouched; he could have almost looked like he was asleep if it weren’t for his tense muscles.
Then all at once, he sat up, abs rippling. He looked at Avery like he was crazy.
“Oh, baby, you should do that! Oh my god, two thousand dollars! You need that money,” Vicky said and squealed. “And it would be so hot. I’d cum all over you if I got to see that.”
“I, uh…” Forrest gulped nervously.
“Come on, I’ll let you lick my pussy while you do it,” Vicky said. “You don’t even have to watch.” She straddled Forrest’s chest, standing over Avery’s head with her pussy in front of her boyfriend’s face. Forrest lapped at her womanhood. She giggled. “He licks pussy so good. He’s like an expert, oh my god. You are, Forrest, you’re so good at this. You should give lessons, like on YouTube.”
It sounded like she did believe that but only really said it to puff up Forrest’s ego. It worked. He bristled and rammed his tongue into her pussy like he wanted to fuck her violently with it.
That was fine with Avery. He thought it would seem awkward at first, but Forrest was so tall that he could lick her pussy while leaving his entire broad chest and crotch open for Avery to play with. So Avery leaned back until he rested his head on Forrest’s rippling chest muscles. He guided one of Forrest’s callused hands to his cock.
Forrest’s arm was utterly stiff. His muscles were heavy, his fingers tough and callused. Avery arduously placed his hand in position. Forrest shuddered when he felt Avery’s cock, and he moaned into Vicky’s pussy, making a muffled moist sound.
“You can do it, baby,” she said softly, rubbing his scalp.
His hand awkwardly gripped Avery’s dick. He didn’t move. He didn’t jack Avery off. He just held Avery’s cock in his hand very lightly, barely coming into contact with it. He held on just enough that he could say he touched it.
Avery didn’t mind so much. On the one hand, it was the worst reacharound ever, in a strictly objective sense. It was like trying to get jacked off by an unconscious person. But Avery loved alphas, and the awkwardness was part of the appeal.
Besides that, Avery moved himself plenty as he slid up and down on Forrest’s cock. That was enough to move his dick in Forrest’s hand, and it sent a wave of orgasmic pleasure up Avery’s spine.
Forrest groaned as he finally orgasmed. Avery waited until the last possible minute before letting himself go as well, that way they both came at once. Forrest sprayed his hot wad into Avery’s ass, groaning the whole time because his hand was covered in Avery’s cum.
“Aw, fuck, baby, I’m doin’ it, I’m doin’ it, I’m bustin’…” He groaned like it hurt.
The smell of semen filled the air. Forrest shot a huge load inside Avery, great big jets of it spurting into every corner of his body. It was hot and creamy, sticky, seeping and flowing throughout him. Avery moaned so loud it made Forrest shudder.
At last they were both done. Forrest fell limp, his muscles relaxing for the first time since before Avery touched him. Forrest let out a great sigh of relief. Avery’s head swam, dizziness overwhelming him as he began to remove himself from Forrest’s cock.
“Get off me, you’re done,” Forrest said with a crude grunt. He pushed Avery to the ground. Avery crumpled up in the dirt and moaned.
“Baby, be nice,” Vicky said softly in his ear.
Forrest wrinkled his nose. He sniffled. “You best pay up, man. Don’t stiff me.”
“I won’t,” Avery said. He stretched his legs and went to his pants. He slowly filled out the payment details on PayUp. For the purpose, he wrote long-dickin’ it and giggled when Forrest saw it and frowned. He didn’t complain though.
“That was so hot, I’m so glad you did that.”
“I ain’t doin’ it no more. I had an open mind. I did it.”
“Okay, that’s-“
“I swear to God, girl, I did it. I did it. Don’t make me do it again,” he said. “I love you and all, but… Don’t make me do that again.” He blushed.
“I won’t, sweetie, I’m glad you tried it,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek. He was mollified by her tits pressing against his chest.
Avery would have loved to stay there and cuddle with Forrest’s muscled body, but it was clear Forrest’s tolerance had run out. Avery quickly dressed and headed towards the parking lot.
He was glad he had gone for a Samhain walk.

Sharing a Bed With a Basketball Jock

Avery drives the team bus when he gets a chance to share a bed with a hunky basketball jock. Trent Wyatt’s girlfriend won’t let him go near another woman, but she won’t mind him getting his needs met another way…

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Read the whole thing here!

“My woman said she gonna cut my nuts off if I talk to another female,” Trent Wyatt said in a press conference. That caused a huge controversy that attracted Avery’s attention. Unlike everyone in the media, Avery was not worried because he said “nuts” nor because he used the term “my woman” nor because he used the word “female” in a dismissive manner nor because he accused his girlfriend of threatening assault. That was all silly nitpicking from Avery’s point-of-view.
It seemed the media was very thin-skinned these days.
Avery was interested because Trent Wyatt had specified — and repeated a few times in interviews since — that his girlfriend had warned him off other “females”. She hadn’t said anything about males.
That gave Avery an idea. He managed to pull a few favors within the GHU athletic department, which got Avery a gig driving the team bus for a game between the GHU Titans and Montana State. It was far enough away that they would have to spend a night in a hotel room.
Trent Wyatt was handsome like a movie star, and Avery had a plan to get a swing on his tasty basketball-jock meat. Trent was tall and lean, ropy-muscled with long legs and a sculpted face with dimples and cheekbones and all that jazz. He had only one tattoo — that was another thing that made him unusual in the American College Basketball Association — but it was a colorful doozy, a full-arm sleeve depicting the whole of US African American history, ending in the ornately decorated face of his grandmother near his wrist.
There had been so many reports on that goddamn tattoo last year. Avery had gotten sick of them. He watched a lot of them because Trent Wyatt was well-sculpted, and they showed tons of shirtless pictures of him to display the tattoo — Avery was ninety-percent sure that the reason Trent tried so hard to get the media to pay attention to the tattoo was to show off his chest.
And Avery had wanted him the entire time. He never even recalled what Trent said about the stuff on the tattoo because Avery was mesmerized by those dimples and those deep, dark eyes.
So he was giddy when the Titans climbed onto the team bus. Avery smiled politely but didn’t say much. The players mostly ignored him. They were huge — basketball players always seemed skinny on average to Avery, because they were never barrel-chested or bulky, but when he saw them in person, he could see how heavily stacked most of them really were. Their muscles were compact, pulled taut, so tight it almost looked painful, Avery thought, Trent especially. He looked like a three-hundred pound bodybuilder crammed into a hundred-eighty-pound body.
“Alright, gentlemen, I gotta read the required safety standards,” Avery said when they were all settled in. “Is anyone here a child under eighty pounds?”
“Yeah, me,” said Jashwan Mitchell. “I’m only seventy-four pounds.”
“Then you have to sit either in a child-seat or on my lap,” Avery said. “I choose my lap.”
They all laughed at Jashwan, who laughed too, a little too aggressively, like he wanted everyone to know it could only be a joke, that he’d never actually sit on Avery’s lap. Avery went through the rest of the required safety standards, then he got behind the wheel and set off. Avery got his caffeine pills out and kept them on the dashboard to take when he got tired, and he’d avoided caffeine for the last week to be sure it had a strong effect on him. He’d be driving until midnight. He could probably drive longer, but he wasn’t allowed to, and they should arrive at the hotel but midnight. Not just any hotel either, Avery planned this trip to be sure they stopped at the hotel whose setup was conducive to his plans.
Avery expected lots of rowdy behavior on the bus. They were athletes after all, and he had gone on the football team’s bus once back in high school. The guys then had been loud and rambunctious, and the bus driver had had to pull over twice to tell them to settle down. He was expecting horseplay, off-color jokes, crude gestures aimed at other drivers on the road and aggressive fight songs.
But the ride didn’t turn out like that at all. Maybe basketball and football players behaved differently on bus rides. The loudest they got was a debate over keto versus paleo diets. There was some snickering that Avery was pretty sure came from ogling over pictures on someone’s phone — presumably someone’s girlfriend in a bikini — but other than that, it was very quiet.
“Hey, man, is there gonna be a bar or somethin’ at this place?” Jashwan Mitchell asked when they got close to the night’s hotel.
“A bar at the hotel, yeah, I think so,” Avery said. He had actually chosen this hotel precisely because it had a nice bar and because the bar’s regular patrons included a number of women of loose repute. The basketball players were sure to get laid.
But he let the players discover that on their own. When they pulled in at the hotel, Avery parked and let them all out. He waited in the bus for a few minutes. The players all hurried into their rooms.
Avery came out when he saw the players beginning to head out to the bar. Few of them drank, but there were women galore in the bar, and that was what they were interested in. They all had a game tomorrow, that was why nobody wanted to get drunk. Once he had parked the bus and made sure all the players were checked in, Avery went to the main desk at the hotel to get his own room key.
“I’m sorry sir, there are no vacancies,” the clerk said.
“Are you sure? I was told there was always a room available for the bus driver.” Avery kept arguing with the clerk as he waited for Trent Wyatt to come out of his room. Finally it happened. He was hesitant, smoothing his fine, ironed shirt and fiddling with the gold chain around his neck.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”
“So I have to sleep on the bus?!” Avery threw his hands in the air. He hoped this was coming out believable — Avery in fact knew he needed to call ahead to register a room. Avery used to be a clerk in a motel, he knew exactly how this worked.
But he also knew that, if he couldn’t get a room of his own, he’d end up sharing a room and hopefully a bed with one of the players. He had exactly which player in mind.
“Hey, man, you need a room?” Trent said when he saw the fracas at the front desk.
Avery turned to face him and nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed to reserve a room. That’s not how most hotels around here work.”
The clerk was about to correct him, but Avery walked away with Trent before he could open his mouth. Avery patted Trent on the back, which was firm like a barrel of packed sand. Trent had taken a shower, and his skin exuded warmth still, a few beads of moisture still dotting his nape. His hair remained slightly moist, glistening in the brilliant light of the hotel lobby.
“That sucks, man…” Trent’s voice trailed off. There was an intense pressure in the air. It was obvious Trent felt he should invite Avery to stay in his room, but he wasn’t going to do that. Avery wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected it to happen quite like this. He just wanted to put the thought in Trent’s head. He’d let it bounce around in Trent’s mind for awhile.
“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I’ll just sleep in the bus, it’s comfortable enough,” Avery said. “I can rough it.”
“Huh, yeah.” Trent chuckled dryly.
“Thanks, sugar,” Avery said. He patted Trent on the six-packed belly. “Are you going to the bar? Don’t let those women lead you astray — you got a girlfriend at home, right? Stay with her, man. Do what she says, y’know…”
“Yeah…” Trent glanced at the bar, which was crowded and filled with hollering. Word had spread that most of an ABA team was hanging out in this bar, so it had filled up with skanks and hangers-on. One of those skanks was sucking off Jashwan Mitchell right when Trent walked in and nearly walked into his friend’s cock.
Avery watched. He wasn’t a voyeur, but he did enjoy seeing Jashwan’s veiny cock throb in the trashy woman’s mouth, and he enjoyed the bartender’s pained, desperate attempts to get them to stop without calling the police. It all happened too fast for the cops to get involved though. The whole blowjob took maybe three minutes, and then the slut ran off with a mouthful of basketball star cream.
That was hot. Avery licked his lips. He preferred to watch men fuck than to participate, and he’d found driving sports teams really gave him opportunities to watch.
Avery went out to the bus to wait. He thought he had about an eighty percent chance of getting Trent tonight. Avery had a sixth sense about that kind of thing. He spent the time looking on his phone to verify that quote — Trent had definitely specified that he wasn’t allowed to be with “females”, and Avery had definitely reminded him that he was not a female.
He googled Trent on some forums he knew of, to see if there were any rumors about Trent’s sexual history. He may have gotten sucked off by a stripper in Boise, Idaho — a woman claimed as much in a basketball forum, just days before Trent started specifying to reporters that he never got frisky on the road. Avery felt sure that was what had prompted Trent’s girlfriend to make him promise to stop. The stripper had probably contacted her.
That had only been six months ago. If he was really trying to be faithful now, Avery thought, he was probably desperately horny. He hadn’t been back to his house, and his girlfriend, in almost a month, after all. Avery didn’t think it was fair for women to expect their men to be faithful away from home, but Avery did enjoy it — it was one of the things that made it so easy for Avery to find the alpha males he enjoyed.
Back in the hotel, Trent Wyatt hadn’t stopped thinking about Avery.
He’d never messed around with a male. Back in the neighborhood Trent grew up in, it was considered acceptable, more or less, for men to mess around on the downlow. But Trent had never done so. Mainly that was for guys who couldn’t get laid by females. There was a flamboyant man in his neighborhood who would jerk off any eighteen-year-old if he wasn’t fat or addicted to drugs. Trent always had a bevy of females after him, so he would never do anything like that. He’d teased all the guys who did. He ignored it when they said that males throated dick better than any female. He didn’t believe it.
But the older he got, the more he could believe it. He still hadn’t done it. Somehow sex had gotten more complicated, even though he was married and an international sex symbol. His girlfriend rarely wanted to have sex anymore, and she didn’t even suck his dick except on his birthday.
That flamboyant bus driver was outside, waiting. He hadn’t explicitly said he would jack off Trent’s dick.
But Trent had a feeling it would happen if he went out there. He could get sucked off by one of these chicks too, no doubt. But she would likely want his phone number, she’d tell TMZ he was an asshole, she’d brag to her gal-pals, and his girlfriend would eventually find out. Plus, perhaps most importantly, Trent thought he’d be unable to avoid looking guilty if he went back to his girlfriend after fucking with another woman.
You can always bust a nut in a sissy. Feels just like a woman cuz they got the right equipment. They know how it all works.
That was what some of the older guys in Trent’s neighborhood said. Trent had thought it was a joke. They didn’t really believe it, right?
But now that Trent had a woman, he couldn’t help but believe it. It made sense, didn’t it? It wasn’t like Trent would ever leave his girlfriend to jack off with some white man. And he wasn’t even going to do something with Avery that he would do with his girlfriend — she rarely sucked his dick and never did anal.
Trent found himself walking out there without making the decision to go through with it. But he second-guessed himself when the cool night air hit his face. He scratched his balls through his jeans and discovered his dick was so hard it hurt. The women in the bar were so easy, and Trent’s girlfriend was so far away.
I gotta do something. Trent winced. He had an idea that would make it seem like less of a big deal, he thought, plus it’d make him look like a nice guy.
He went out to the bus and told the bus driver he could share his room. “I’m goin’ to sleep now, but you can come with me if you want,” Trent said. “We gonna have to share the bed.”
“Oh, thank you so much!” Avery said, squealing and hugging Trent’s chest. Avery could see the telltale bulge of his hardon, but he didn’t bring it up. He just followed Trent to the hotel room. “I thought my back was going to get sore from sleeping in there.”
“Uh-huh.” Trent bit his lip. He remained tense in the hotel room as he took off his shirt. He liked it when anyone, even men, complimented his chest and his six-pack abs. Avery giggled at the sight.
“Damn, you must work out all the time.”
“Yeah. Pretty much,” Trent said. He posed. He flexed his biceps so Avery could squeeze them, and he even made his pecs bounce. He felt like a stripper. He was awkward at first, but when Avery’s infectious smile caught on, Trent smiled proudly and relaxed.
“Do you normally watch TV to go to sleep?” Avery asked as they settled in.
“Sometimes. My girlfriend don’t like it though.”
“Well she’s not here, so let’s do something she wouldn’t let you do normally,” Avery said. He added with a knowing wink, “You might prefer to have something to look at. You can always turn it off later.” He put the remote on the nightstand on Trent’s side of the bed.
It was softcore porn. Avery had put it on a video of a woman fingering herself, a pretty blonde with tits like sandcastles. Trent’s eyes were drawn to her. Avery winked at Trent, whose half-hard dick twitched in his boxers, but it didn’t seem Trent noticed. The sound was almost off, so all Trent could hear was the woman’s feminine moaning.
Only when the camera moved away from that woman and her tits that Trent noticed Avery watching him. Trent bristled, his muscles all flexing, though he pretended not to notice.
He’s definitely planning on tastin’ my dick… Trent gulped nervously. He couldn’t wait. His dick still throbbed mightily in his boxers.
Avery crawled under the covers and patted the mattress for Trent to join him. Trent grimaced and did so. That sexy babe on TV was hard to tear his eyes away from.
“Hmm… Just relax,” Avery said. “I bet that tonight, you’re going to sleep better than you have in a long time.” He whispered once Trent had settled under the covers, and Avery scooted closer to him. “Do you think so? Is there anything I can do to make you fall asleep better?”
“Uh, well…”
“Shush, you don’t have to say anything,” Avery said. He moved so close his breath condensed on Trent’s ear, and Avery’s hand crept over Trent’s chest. “I’ll just slip under the covers and you can put my hand and my mouth and… other parts… wherever you want them to be.”
Trent sucked in his breath. His dick was hard now, that woman onscreen drawing him in. Avery’s soft fingers caressed Trent’s flat belly. His touch made Trent’s muscles ripple and his pecs bounce, and Avery felt his heartbeat quicken.
It was so easy to believe those fingers belonged to that sexy woman on the TV, Trent thought, especially in the dark, under the covers. That was what her fingers would feel like, Trent was sure. He could picture it in his mind.
“Ssssshhh…” Avery licked Trent’s earlobe. “You can pretend you’re asleep…”His hand slid over Trent’s six-pack to his cock, reaching into his boxers. He gripped his dick and gave it a stroke, bringing it the rest of the way to full erection.
Trent moaned. “My girlfriend…”
“Ssssssssh…. You’re asleep, it’s okay, your girlfriend can’t be mad at you for things your body does when it’s asleep, and anyway, you won’t remember any of this,” Avery said. “Everybody needs a little release…”
“I’m not drunk, I don’t drink-“
“I know, shush…” Avery kissed him on the cheek and lowered his head beneath the covers. He sucked some of the sweat that beaded in the valley between Trent’s pecs. It was salty and warm, and it made Avery’s whole body surge with desire.
At last Avery made it to that cock. He’d freeze-framed on a video of Trent playing basketball in his shorts, cock plainly outlined by the fabric. He had that pic on his phone right now. So he’d been daydreaming about this moment for a long time. He was giddy that he finally got to taste the great Trent Wyatt’s cock.
It was even bigger than he had thought it’d be. He popped the tip in his mouth, making Trent’s whole body shake. His muscles flexed. Avery giggled. His soft limps caressed the rock-hard shaft, which throbbed beneath his touch.
“Oh god….-” Trent cut his moan off because Avery shushed him again. His dick pulsated in Avery’s mouth, rapidly firming up even though Avery hadn’t done much with it.
As Trent’s whole body undulated, Avery pushed his head up and down the shaft, deep-throating it, then pulling all the way off to take a sweat-scented breath of air, then deep-throating it again. Every time his nose hit Trent’s pubes, a moan came out of Trent. Avery murmured, “Shush, you’re asleep, remember? You can tell your girlfriend nothing happened, because you don’t remember it.”
Trent did feel like sleeping. He wasn’t asleep. But this was dark, and he couldn’t see Avery at all. With his eyes closed, he didn’t even see the TV, but he heard the moist, feminine sounds of emanating from the woman on TV.
The sour-salty taste of precum hit Avery’s tongue, and he slurped down every drop. Avery loved precum. He suckled on the tip of Trent’s dick, then throated him deeply until Trent gasped and cried out.
Trent wrapped his hands around Avery’s scalp and held on. He pumped his hips, humping Avery’s mouth as aggressively as anyone ever had.
He was on the verge of blowing his wad when Avery pulled off him. Trent let out a roar of frustration, followed by a desperate little mewling sound. His cock was ready to explode. He had never been this horny. The thought of not blowing his load right away made Avery pained.
He needn’t have worried. Before he could think, Trent felt Avery climb atop his body. Avery carefully kept the covers over him the best he could — the room was dark, so it didn’t hardly matter, but he knew from personal experience that men considered that sexy. It was easy to pretend he was a woman if they couldn’t see him.
Avery gripped Trent’s cock and slid down on it. He bit his lip at first, as intense, uncomfortable pressure flooded his ass. Trent’s dick stretched his tight hole, sending a few twinges of pain through his body. He kneaded the smooth, hard flesh of Trent’s muscled chest as he slid lower and rode him.
At last he was all the way down. His ass squeezed around Trent’s manhood, which pulsated inside him, throbbing so Avery could feel Trent’s heartbeat throughout his body.
He leaned his head down and kissed Trent’s grizzled chin — he was normally clean-shaved, but he hadn’t shaved yet on this road trip. Avery moaned into Trent’s ear. Pleasure exploded in Avery’s veins.
“Goddamn, man,” Trent said. He slowly lost his inhibitions and wrapped his hands around Avery’s waist. He guided him up and down on his cock.
The sheets and blankets fell off Avery’s body, but the room was dark enough that Trent still didn’t see him. Avery shivered a little in the sudden chill of the air-conditioned room.
Avery’s ass clenched. He moaned, his desire to sound like a woman momentarily fading as he shot his own load into his hand. His prostate exploded in intense pleasure that rocked through his body. He leaned his head back and would have howled but he didn’t want the hotel staff to tell them keep it down, so he muffled the sound and instead undulated intensely atop Trent’s crotch.
“Holy shit!” Trent didn’t worry about being loud. He was having the most potent orgasm he’d felt in a very long time. He filled Avery with his creamy seed, each gyration of his hips sending a new wave of pleasure that ratcheted his sensations up to a new level.
Trent couldn’t believe good that felt. His voice broke and he caressed Avery’s chest as though he might find breasts there if he looked hard enough. His body went from smooth and clean to drenched in sweat in mere moments.
Then he felt limp and fell back onto the bedspread. Still, he squirmed there as though it hurt because Avery remained on top of his dick, which still throbbed, exquisitely sensitive in Avery’s tight ass. It felt so good that Trent grunted with pain.
Finally, Avery slid off him, his entire body moist and slathered in fluids. Avery let out a long moan that filled the still hotel room.
The comfortable silence was interrupted moments later by a knock on the door. Trent’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest and he jumped out of bed.
“Uh… Hello?”
Trent’s eyes opened wide. “Hello?! What?!”
“Uh, sir… could you… We have received a complaint, sir. Can you keep it down in there?” the clerk said, his voice wavering, especially when Trent virtually ripped the door open. He hadn’t meant to come across as angry or intimidating, but he did, especially since he was so tall, muscular and stark-naked, massive dick dangling and gleaming with moisture between his legs. A few drops of cum still clung to the tip, and Trent hoped the clerk didn’t see it. It was dark, so probably it wasn’t visible.
Trent hadn’t meant to flash his cockmeat at the clerk. So he just grunted. “Uh-huh. Later.” He slammed the door shut.
Well, he thought, that clerk was definitely going to post about it on the ESPN forums. At least it wasn’t obvious he was in here with a man, or so Trent hoped.
He scooted back into bed besides Avery, who had cleaned up. Avery cuddled up next to Trent, who sighed and let him do so, even when he felt Avery’s dick touching his thigh.
“I’m glad I’m your driver,” Avery said. He kissed Trent’s neck. “Do you want me to wake you up in the morning, sweetie?”
“Hell yeah, babe. Keep ya head under the covers though, since there’ll be light in the room. And don’t make no noise if my girlfriend calls me in the morning. She prolly will.”

Floormates in the Dark

Avery is left in the dorm over spring break with the hunky exchange student Federico. He expected to share the dorm floor with Federico… but soon enough, they’re sharing a bed! Can Avery learn to appreciate Federico’s exotic ways?

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Read the whole thing here!

Earlier today, Avery had realized that the only other of his floormates to be in the building right now was Federico. At the time, Avery just sighed and shook his head — he knew that Federico would come over and annoy him sooner or later.
That’s because Federico was an Italian exchange student and a star on the GHU soccer team. He came from Venice, where (he said) his father was a well-known local politician. He was a big burly foreigner with a hairy chest — like a seriously hairy chest, like he was a werewolf, so hairy the other floormates couldn’t imagine why he didn’t shave it— a loud voice and many annoying habits. Avery didn’t want to be rude, but he really did not want to spend the day with Federico.
So when Avery awoke to find that Federico was in his room in the middle of the night, he was angry. Federico had been following him around. First he was trying to get Avery to lift weights with him; Federico did that every morning and acted like it was a scandal when Avery said he never lifted weights. Then Federico wanted to eat dinner with him — Federico had crackers, cured meats and a slab of some stinky cheese, which Avery steadfastly refused to eat. It stank up this entire floor of Mannheim House and probably other floors too. Lastly Federico walked to the shower stark naked and stood in Avery’s doorway talking to him in thickly accented English about the weather.
His fat prick just dangled there between his legs, drawing Avery’s gaze to it. Avery gulped, trying to hide his stare. He had wondered if Federico was trying to turn him on.
Federico had been walking around the dorm naked most of the semester. It was normal for him in all-male environments, or so he said. He was shocked that Americans didn’t feel the same way. Back in Italy, he said, men weren’t worried about seeing each other naked — it was normal, and only squeamish losers got worked up over it. The RA had insisted he wear clothes to and from the shower though, and Federico had grudgingly complied.
But apparently Federico had interpreted that rule as applying only when the RA was actually here in Mannheim House. So now that it was the first day of spring break, he stood there in Avery’s doorway with his fat, uncut cock laying greasily against his thigh. Avery gulped.
Avery was only here during spring break because he was a team manager for the PE department, and they were practicing this week. Federico was here because he was an exchange student and couldn’t afford to go home for Spring Break.
“We could doing fun, we have entire floor to usselves, floormate-uh,” Federico said. Someone had jokingly called him a floormate back in September, and Federico had needed an explanation of what it meant and how to use -mate as a suffix. Federico thought it was great and had been calling everyone ‘floormate’ all semester. Federico cackled as Avery blushed, trying to ignore the bare cock beckoning Avery’s eyes.
Avery had simply declined to hang out. He said he had to study, which was technically accurate even if Avery had no intention of doing so. Avery ignored Federico’s irritated expression. He felt bad about rejecting Federico, who had been struggling to make friends in America, but he turned Avery off.
So when Avery woke up in the middle of the night to see that Federico had crept into his room, he was both scared and annoyed. What did Federico want with him? Light from the hall flooded the room while the door was open, but that lasted only a moment before Federico pulled it shut.
Avery was groggy at first, and he didn’t fight back when Federico told him to move over. Avery made room on the bed. The smell of Federico’s exotic cologne filled the room, while under it was a note of body musk and stale sweat. Federico must have worked out this evening. The other guys on this floor — their floormates — complained that Federico always smelled like a barrel of armpits. Avery agreed with that conclusion, but he didn’t complain. He liked the smell, but he didn’t tell anyone that.
Then Federico lay down in the narrow dorm bed alongside Avery, who gasped in shock at the realization that Federico was naked. His hairy body slid under the covers, pushing Avery against the wall. Federico was much bigger than Avery so he took up most of the bedspace.
“Hello, good night, eh, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His smooth, silken accent was deep and booming, echoing in the dorm room and in Avery’s ears. It made Avery shudder as a torrent of emotions washed over him. He couldn’t believe Federico wanted to share a bed with him. Was this normal in Italy?
“Federico, what are you doing?!” I-” Avery exclaimed, stopping only when Federico kissed him right on the lips.
Every part of Avery’s mind told him to continue, to kiss Federico on the lips and make out with him all night. But a part of Avery also wanted to tell him to leave, to remind him that he was a dickhead and that Avery wanted nothing to do with him.
Yet Avery didn’t do that. He stayed right where he was. For some reason as soon as he felt Federico’s broad, strapping chest muscles and his strong tongue pushing into Avery’s mouth, Avery didn’t want to fight him, nor did he want to fight against this experience. He just wanted to kiss Federico until there was no more kissing left to be had.
Avery’s petite fingers grabbed at Federico’s toned chest, while their tongues interlocked in Avery’s mouth. This was all happening so fast, Avery was left reeling, dizzy and full of surging desire.
There was something intense and arousing about kissing Federico on his soft lips. He was powerful and dominant, his corded muscle chest writhing atop Avery’s body. Avery’s skin wasn’t perfectly smooth, but compared to the dense layer of fur atop Federico’s chest, Avery seemed as smooth as a porcelain doll.
“No girls aredhere, eh,” Federico said. He hung his head sadly. “I went for a walk, eh, none of girls, eh.”
“Yeah. The campus is shut down, Federico. We’re not even really supposed to be here,” Avery said. That was true. They had to get special permission to stay here after the campus closed for the vacation. Federico couldn’t go back to Italy for just one week, and Avery had told the college he had no family to go home to (not technically true, but Avery didn’t want to go home). The GHU administration pushed him very hard to find a friend or family to stay with for the night, but Avery had refused — he paid top dollar for this dorm, and he wanted to use it.
“Federico…”
His hands moved of their own accord, gripping Federico’s back. He was a very hairy man, especially for someone so young, but his back was smooth and unblemished, a milky brown color, though in the dark, Avery couldn’t see anything except for Federico’s shadowy face. He had a dense beard which scratched at Avery’s scruffy face as they kissed.
Avery understood now why women liked Federico so much. The other guys on this floor often joked about that — to them, Federico was weird, almost effeminate yet offensively macho, hard to understand, both a prettyboy and a stinky alpha, and he had nice hair. His hair put theirs to shame.
But now, in this dorm room at night, Avery squirmed under Federico’s warm body and he let out little gasps that were swallowed up by Federico’s kisses, and Avery understood what women found alluring about him. He moved with such passion, his lips and his hands exploring Avery’s body and appreciating every inch of him, while Federico’s own body was toned and muscular, firm to the touch yet soft and pliable, exuding waves of warmth that Avery ensconced himself within.
He wished the dorm room was cold, so he could cuddle up with Federico like a loyal dog.
“Sssh…” Federico said. “You do not need to be embarrassed, it is okay-uh.” He reached behind himself, where he wrapped his fingers around Avery’s cock — he had to stick his hand under Avery’s boxer shorts. He gave it a stroke. Just one stroke, but somehow it was enough. It sent a little electric tingling sensation up Avery’s body.
Avery was too nervous to get hard. Federico just kept stroking. It was only when Avery’s hands roamed from Federico’s rippling back to his furry chest that Avery felt a surge of energy in his cock. It got hard and jabbed straight up in the air, throbbing beneath Federico’s touch.
“Good. You are a real man, eh, do not be embarrass-uh,” Federico said. He mounted Avery’s chest, the thick nest of hair around his balls and cock dragging along Avery’s smooth skin.
Avery realized with a nervous, anticipatory giggle that Federico intended for Avery to swallow his cock. He stroked Avery’s dick as he brought his own cock up to Avery’s mouth. Its silhouette loomed in the dark in front of Avery’s face.
“What, uh… what are you doing?”
“I am to be putting my penis into your mouth,” he said, cocking his head to the side and frowning as though Avery should have known that. He aimed his rock-hard, uncut cock towards Avery’s mouth, and the tip touched his lip. That was enough to taste the musty warmth of his manhood, and Avery chased the tip with his tongue. Federico kept his dick away. “Do not be embarrass. I will not tell anyone, eh, it is low to down.”
“You mean downlow?”
“Yes! Downlow. Dat is correct and factual,” Federico said. He beamed like he was a detective who had just solved a case. He finally let Avery put his mouth on his cock, but just barely, Federico keep it far enough away that Avery got only a teasing taste of the tip. Federico moaned like he was in pleasure even though Avery was only barely touching him. “I am bigger, eh, so you will be a passivo on me. You have nice big mouf, and no beard to touch me in the penis or dick, eh, si, I do not like beard hair.”
“Uh… are you going to get me off too?”
Federico paused. “No. I am bigger-uh dan you. Bigger men do not do so in Italy. I am only to top, eh, it is your position to do it wit’ your mouf-uh. You will lick my dick now, eh, si?”
Avery opened his mouth. Federico took Avery’s open mouth as an agreement and aimed his cocktip right for his wiggling tongue and his tight throat. Avery couldn’t deny that he was eager now to swallow Federico’s girthy Italian cock.
He was disappointed this wasn’t going to be reciprocated though. He thought that was what “downlow” meant. Maybe not. In any case, Federico didn’t even know that word, much less abide by it.
Regardless, Avery was eager to taste that cock, to swallow it as deep as he could and worship it until he tasted Federico’s creamy seed. Avery let his mouth fill with Federico’s dick.
It was only half-hard, but it was very big so it felt hard right away. Then it got harder and harder as Avery choked on its massive, salty head. It tasted both good and bad, but Avery was focused on the savory flavor and the sensation of desire that erupted in him now that he was tasting cock. It tasted clean and fleshy and it pulsated like an alien creature in Avery’s mouth. He gurgled on the moisture that leaked out of the tip. That foreskin felt like so much extra flesh Avery wondered if it was normal — he hadn’t been with very many uncircumcised men before.
“Yes, you are good, Aver-uh. Very good-uh. I am approving,” Federico said with a groan and a moan, his whole body rippling above Avery.
As Avery licked, Federico continued to jack Avery off, reaching behind himself to do so. He didn’t stroke it so much as hold on and let Avery move his hips, so Avery humped his hand while Federico acted like he didn’t even notice what was happening behind him. Federico’s attention was aimed squarely at his crotch, where his cock disappeared down Avery’s throat. He moaned and crooned like he was trying to seduce Avery, who vacillated between finding the sounds disgusting and alarming and finding them arousing and charming. He rubbed Avery’s face with his thumb and stroked his lips, gently but firmly pushing Avery’s mouth open as wide as it could go.
Then the hand jacking Avery off roamed down to his balls. Federico played with them very briefly before rubbing the taint between Avery’s balls and his ass. Avery’s flesh was very sensitive there, and the touch made Avery shudder with desire. His finger moved lower and lower, closer to Avery’s ass.
“You are nice with the mouth,” Federico said. His accent was thicker now that he was aroused, and his cock pulsated in Avery’s throat. Drops of precum hit his tongue, flooding his senses with the intense saltiness and savory flavor of his manhood. Avery’s hands roamed up his chest and tweaked his nipples, which made his pecs ripple each time he did it. Then Avery’s hands moved around Federico’s chest to his back and his smooth ass, firm like a pair of overinflated soccer balls.
Before Avery could do anything else, Federico’s finger pushed into his ass, pushing past Avery’s resistance, making Avery’s whole body tense up. The finger entering him sent a shiver of pain up Avery’s spine, but also a shudder of intense pleasure. He lifted his legs up — again his body acted on instinct even as his mind told him not to — and spread his own asscheeks to give Federico better access to it.
Then Federico pulled his cock away from Avery’s mouth. Thick gobs of saliva connected his lips to Federico’s shaft, until Avery’s hand tentatively stroked that massive meat. He had never felt anything like it, he thought, hot and spasming beneath his fingers, precum dripping in milky rivulets down the shaft, coating his foreskin and Avery’s fingertips. Avery groaned and Federico moaned.
“You are good at being girl-boy,” Federico said. “And you have nice girl-ass. It is… culo grassoccio.” For some reason when he said culo grassoccio, it made Avery grunt and blush, swooning with desire. Italian, he thought, was such a sexy language. Avery didn’t know what Federico said, but it turned him on.
Avery gave up on getting Federico to reciprocate. He decided to just go with the flow. He didn’t know why he was suddenly so willing to let Federico slam him, but he was — he wanted it more than anything. Federico’s obnoxious personality had faded into the background of his mind. He wanted nothing more than to feel Federico’s cock invade his ass.
“I will do putting in your ass,” Federico said softly. Though his tone was low, his words were loud and expressive, and they hung in the air, resonating in Avery’s ears.
As Avery rolled over onto his belly and stuck his ass in the air, Federico pulled out a tube of lube he had snuck over, Avery recalled Federico’s stunning success with girls. He seemed to be able to seduce any woman, from mousy shy nerds to outgoing cheerleaders, he got them all. It annoyed their other floormates because, to them, Federico was an annoying weirdo who didn’t do anything right. Somehow the girls loved him for it.
Federico was handsome, and American women loved Italian men. But Federico was more than just charming, he was a sexy beast who oozed charisma in his broken English. There was something special there, that was why he was good with girls. He had deep dark eyes that drilled into the soul of whoever he spoke to, and Avery found it hard to look away from him. His voice simmered like a slow soup.
And now he had even seduced Avery, who blushed like a tomato as he lowered his head to the pillow. Federico gently guided Avery’s hips up in the air, so Federico could kneel on his knees while Avery’s ass lined up with with his cock.
“Here I am, entering you now,” Federico whispered, his words echoing in Avery’s ear.
A jolt of pain hit Avery’s backside, but it lasted only a moment before a slow, melting sense of pleasure erupted deep within him. It was so potent that it felt faint, too powerful to be palpable at first, growing slowly over time. But Avery could sense how incredible it would be. If he gave it time to blossom, he thought, it would overwhelm anything.
“Va bene. Va bene, it is good,” Federico said. Avery didn’t know what that meant, but he got the impression it was supposed to be soothing. Avery’s whole body swooned in Federico’s arm as passion enveloped them both. Federico moaned into Avery’s ear, and both men rocked back and forth. Federico’s cock pulsated deep in Avery’s ass.
He was surprised at how little it hurt once Federico got started. He kissed the back of Avery’s neck and rubbed his shoulders as his cock slipped in, centimeter by centimeter.
The pain was still there. It didn’t go away, and it even grew. But it was increasingly overpowered by the intense, throbbing pleasure that made Avery writhe in exquisite agony. Federico pumped his hips more and more powerfully with every passing second, thrusting back and forth up Avery’s behind. Each thrust sent Avery to a new height of pleasure, and Avery couldn’t help but moan out loud.
He had to remind himself he could be as loud as he wanted to be — him and Federico were the only two people on this floor, or even in all of Mannheim House. Avery let his moans of desire grow louder, turning into demands for Federico to ram harder and harder. Federico probably didn’t notice what Avery was saying, as his English seemed to get worse when he was horny.
When Federico leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Avery’s chest, Avery moaned. They kissed there, and for Avery, it could have lasted a lifetime. He had never experienced a kiss like that. With his asshole stretching to accept Federico’s Italian cockmeat, Avery experienced an intense connection between them. He could feel every inch of Federico’s muscle and his powerful cock sliding into him, his bulging muscles and the clean sweat that dappled his skin now.
“You have-uh de beaut-iful-uh bottom, Aver-h…” Federico murmured. The way he said Avery made Avery giggle: vrwaowbbuh. “I will make you feel such pleasure. You will explode onto my hand.”
At last Federico’s hand explored downward. He tweaked each of Avery’s nipples in turn, sending little sparks of bliss through Avery’s body. Avery’s skin puckered, and he gasped when he realized where Federico was going.
Federico’s hand grabbed Avery’s cock. He groaned as though touching Avery’s dick was almost enough to send him over the edge. Avery moaned for the same reason. Avery’s shaft throbbed and spasmed, leaking precum into Federico’s grip.
Again Avery had no idea how long it lasted. His orgasm began from the moment Federico touched his dick. It continued forever, and Avery squirmed within Federico’s grasp. The more he wiggled, the more Federico’s cock moved inside Avery, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine, and the more Federico’s breathing sped up as he experienced his own intense orgasmic pleasure.
Avery thought that was it. He didn’t think he could take any more; he didn’t think it was possible to feel more or experience any more intensity shaking his body.
But Federico, it seemed, had other plans. Federico could take Avery to the next level.
And as he began pounding hard onto Avery’s ass, that was exactly what happened. The sensation was so intense that Avery screamed, in shock and pain and bliss and desire and pure, unadulterated lust. He screamed because there was no one on this floor to hear him anyway, so why not?
His muscles turned to jelly. They were weak and insubstantial compared to Federico’s body anyway. Avery just submitted. He would have collapsed onto the mattress but Federico kept him in position, bent over a pillow with his ass in the air.
The prostate orgasm was so intense that Avery couldn’t even feel Federico’s hand on his cock. He was numb all over, and the only feelings he experienced were the muscle-clenching power of his climax.
“Ah, si…” Federico’s moan made the hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stand up.
Cum sprayed into the pillow and mattress beneath him, as Avery came first. He bucked his hips, slamming his ass backwards deep onto Federico’s cock as his thick cumwad hit Federico’s fingers. That didn’t slow Federico down at all, and he cooed like he loved the feeling of semen dripping through his fingers.
As though he had been waiting for Avery to bust first — which was, in fact, precisely what he had done — Federico began pounding harder and faster now that Avery was done. He drew his dick up all the way out of Avery’s ass, then slammed his rod back in all at once.
After just a few more of those power-strokes, Federico began his own orgasm. Avery’s head was still groggy and dazed, but he was snapped back into consciousness by the feeling of white-hot cum spreading within him. It was warm and creamy and it seeped into every corner of Avery’s body.
It was an impossibly big load. Avery didn’t know a human male could shoot something so big, so much milky cum that it spread in gobs within him. It dripped down Avery’s thighs and clung to his fine blond hairs, while plastering Federico’s coarser black hairs to his skin.
“You are prestante…”
Then at last it was done. Federico slowly let his cock plop out of Avery’s ass, and when he did, Avery sighed loudly. He had never experienced an orgasm like that. The feeling of his asshole emptying was like scratching a painful itch that Avery didn’t even know he had had.
He collapsed into a moist, sweaty heap on the mattress. He was too tired to do anything but submit as Federico gently caressed his back muscles. Federico kissed him on the spine, his lips traveling down to Avery’s ass. He just kissed each asscheek one time.
“Tank you, Aver-uh,” Federico said. His velvety voice purred and made Avery desire him all over again.
But Federico just sunk onto the mattress. He wrapped his powerful body around Avery’s. He massaged Avery’s smooth skin and kissed him on the neck. His thick, luxuriant beard scratched at Avery’s face.
“You are very nice-uh,” Federico said. “I was enjoying to be jacking… off… Uh… I am apologizing-uh. I do not remember my English words right now, eh.”
“That’s okay,” Avery said softly. He hadn’t spoken since this started, and now he blushed. He buried his face in Federico’s biceps, blushing as though he wanted to hide even though they were alone in Avery’s dorm room (and alone on this floor, in this building and on this campus as well). Avery licked the clean sweat that stuck to Federico’s muscle.
“I am glad about no girl here tonight,” Federico said. He whispered directly in Avery’s ear, making him shudder as aftershocks of orgasm ran through Avery’s body. “You have nice butt, and your dick was feeling good in my hand, uh. Maybe we will do it again after you come back from spring break, eh, yes?”
“Yes,” Avery blurted out. “We will. We’ll do this again next semester, I’ll find you. Whenever. We’ll find a way. We’ll figure it out. We’re together a lot, so it can’t be that hard. We’re floormates, after all.”
“Indeed. We will find, eh, each odduh,” he said.

The Biker Bottoms

Avery filed a noise complaint about some bikers, so they come over to tell him off… or maybe they have something else in mind. That means Avery just might get seven minutes in heaven with a studly biker who’s got no choice but to bend over and take what Avery dishes out!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

When one of the bikers walked towards the campsite late in the afternoon, Avery felt a surge of dread. His friends pushed him to meet the biker, a burly middle-aged type with a beer belly and long, scraggly hair tinged with silver.
You see, last night, the bikers in the next campground over had been so loud that no one in Avery’s campsite could sleep. Avery and his buddies had been talking about going camping together for a long time. It was Avery’s first spring-break that wasn’t drunken and debauched — he felt so mature. They were disappointed to have the trip ruined by a bunch of biker jerks.
So Avery had gone over there and told them to shut up. They laughed at him and threw empty cans of beer, cheered on by one dark-haired biker who wore a thick leather jacket. That man had been an utter drunken jerk. Avery didn’t get mad though — he knew exactly how to proceed. He filed a complaint with the park rangers, and he told them about the littering.
Rangers didn’t care too much about noise, but they cared about littering empty cans of beer. The bikers quieted down after a visit from the rangers late in the night. Avery had been treated like a conquering hero by his fellow college students.
The bikers slept late this morning, then went off hunting or drinking or whatever they did during the day, Avery had no idea (riding bikes presumably, though he hadn’t heard their engines revving). It was now nearly five pm when the older biker approached.
He brought along with him a younger biker, one who attracted Avery’s interest. He was a big burly bear of a man in his early thirties, with thick dark hair and a scraggly beard. He had broad shoulders and a colorful dragon tattoo covering his chest, which was mostly bare, and a snake on his neck. He had a square jaw, and he chewed on his upper lip as the older biker introduced himself. Was this the man who had teased him last night? Quite possibly, but it was hard to be sure; he was in the dark last night, wearing bulky clothes.
“My name Math,” said the older biker, the Southern drawl so thick in his voice that Avery could cut it with a knife. “This here my brother-in-law, Python.”
“Math, Python, nice to meet you,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.”
Math smiled in his avuncular way, but Python just grunted an acknowledgement. He looked at Avery like he was a stack of displeasing medical test results. He straightened the flaps of the leather vest that was all he wore above the waist. His hairy, roughly tattooed chest rested, bare and broad, in the shadows of his vest.
“Be nice, Python,” Math said. When Python didn’t respond, Math slapped him in the back of the head. “Say hello. Use your words, numbskull.”
Python glared at his brother-in-law, and then at Avery. “Hello, Avery.” He spoke with an angry sneer. “You ain’t needta call the fucking rangers on us! You goddamn snitch, you come to us like a man, if you got a problem-“
“Python!”
He bit his lip and looked down at his heavy-booted feet. He shifted some dirt around with one boot. “I’m sorry you had a bout of extreme pansiness, which I see was actually a permanent condition-“
“Python!”
“It is, man, look at him! I ain’t gonna apologize to a lavender lollipop! No offense, sissy,” Python said. He refused to make eye contact with Avery, who snickered at the phrase ‘lavender lollipop’. That was a pretty good burn for a biker.
“Don’t make it seem like you’s too good for that,” Math said. He whispered in Python’s ear, and Python blanched. He looked at Avery then with wide eyes. He gripped Python’s greasy hair and pulled, just hard enough to make Python grunt and flail, though he didn’t try to fight back. Math turned to Avery. “I apologize on his behalf. He gonna play a game wit’ you now. That’ll be his way of sayin’ sorry, since he’s too proud to say it hisself. Come on wit’ us.”
Avery followed, even as his mind screamed not to. He didn’t trust these two bikers. Avery’s friends made plaintive faces as he left — they clearly agreed with Avery’s mind that he shouldn’t go. But Avery went because he was interested and because Python had an amazing body, full of hair and engine grease and scars and tattoos. He wanted to watch the rippling flesh of his back as he walked in front of Avery in pain, with his brother-in-law pulling his hair, dragging him like a caveman back to the bikers’s campground.
As they walked, Math looked behind himself and smiled at Avery. “Don’t worry about Python. He ain’t gonna hurt ya. He’s been clipped. He got two strikes against him. He can’t get in any trouble with the law. That’s why he shut down last night when them rangers came a-callin’.”
“Oh, okay.” That was not entirely reassuring to Avery.
Python’s deep voice rang out. “You ain’t needta tell the rangers-“
“Shut up, you done said that,” Math snapped at him. He threw him into an open tent on the edges of the bikers’s campground. The other bikers looked at Math with quizzical expressions. Math looked to Avery and gestured for him to enter the tent. “Python jerked me off, and he took it in the ass from me.”
Python roared and cursed from inside the tent. “Fuck you, old man! I oughta rip yer dick off-“
Math just smiled. “He did it. Everyone here did it. That’s our initiation. Some gangs do ‘blood-in, blood-out’, but that’s legally risky and there ain’t always someone available who needs killin’. We do ‘cum-in, cum-out’. Well, not ‘out’ cuz no one ever leaves.”
“Really? You guys cornhole… as like, a hazing thing?”
Math nodded. “So I gave Python a choice between saying sorry to you — sorry in a polite, respectful way — or playin’ a little game wit’ you. He chose the game,” Math said. “Seven Minutes in Heaven. You know what that is?” When Avery didn’t respond right away, out of shock, Math explained. “It means you get seven minutes in that tent with Python. He’ll do anything you want in there for seven minutes. You can cornhole the pride right outta his ass, if that’s what you want.”
“Really?!”
Python called out from inside the tent. “Fuck you, old man!”
“So whatchoo think, Avery?”
“Uh… Fuck! Okay,” Avery said.
“You’ll forgive us for makin’ noise last night?”
“Hell yeah!” Avery said. The other bikers laughed at his enthusiasm, which made Avery blush. He crawled into the tent as the other bikers crowded around cheering. It sounded like they rather disliked Python, who had been the loudest one last night — he had been the one who teased Avery and got the others involved. They had all been too drunk to care about being loud (Math must have already been asleep), but it was Python who had gotten mad, and, it seemed, stayed mad.
Avery quickly stripped off his own clothes. Python still wore his pants and leather vest. When Avery started to take the vest off him, he didn’t cooperate. His arms remained at his sides, and Avery struggled to get the vest off. Then he kissed Python on his back, which had just a slight covering of peach fuzz above an iron cross tattooed on the meat of his shoulder.
“Make ‘im moan, Avery!”
When his fingers began caressing Python’s muscles, Python twitched as though it hurt. He hung his head. Avery would have enjoyed giving him a massage, but he only had seven minutes and he wanted to use his time effectively.
So Avery stood as best he could in the tent. He wasn’t tall, so he only had to stoop a little bit. His fat pale dick was already rock-hard. He took Python’s callused hand — with the words FUCK and COPS tattooed on his knuckles — and wrapped it around Avery’s dick. Python shuddered, looked away and began stroking.
Avery flopped his dick against Python’s face, and he jerked and twitched. For a moment, Avery thought Python would attack him. But he held back, just flailing for a moment as though Avery’s dick was painful.
“You fightin’ back in there, Python? You know you can still apologize. You could be a man and own up to yer mistakes.”
But it seemed Python would rather do anything than apologize. Instead he cracked his mouth open. His square jaw trembled like he had to force his muscles to do it. His handsome face was tense, turning red and beading up with sweat.
“Oh, that won’t do. You’ll have to open wider than that,” Avery said, loud enough that the bikers outside could hear. They laughed and Avery forced Python’s jaw to separate — it wasn’t much “force”, of course, since Avery was about a third of Python’s size, and Python was already as agape as he could be. Avery just wanted to embarrass him by saying out loud that Python should open wider.
Then Avery pushed the tip of his dick into Python’s mouth. Python loudly choked and gagged, which again made the bikers outside the tent chortle. Someone banged on the side of the tent, the surprise of which triggered the burst of pleasure that coursed through Avery’s body. Python’s warm mouth lapped at his erection, and every time Python gagged, it sent a new wave of sensations up Avery’s spine.
“There it goes, I reco’nize that sound, fo’ sho’!”
“He gaggin’ on it!”
“Make him swaller ya cum, boy!”
The man’s throat was moist and tight, the hairy grizzle on the sides of his chin scratching at Avery’s smooth thighs as he humped his dick in. The positioning was very awkward given the size disparity and the short ceiling of the tent. Python had to really work at it to get his head low enough to get his mouth on Avery’s meat, while Avery had to stay stooped over.
Avery was already hard even before they started, but it didn’t take long before his dick throbbed in Python’s throat, precum leaking down his gullet. Python kept one tattooed forearm over his belly as though forcing his body not to reject the cock in his mouth.
“Move your tongue around some more,” Avery said, giggling nervously.
Python gurgled angrily but did as he was told. He slathered spit on Avery’s cock, sending waves of pleasure through Avery’s body. Avery was so aroused his knees went weak, and he clutched Python’s head for support, while Python’s muscles all tensed and rippled through him holding back violent gags.
“Sounds like you got a good start in there, Avery. Let me know when I should start timing this!” Math called out with a cackling laugh, slapping one hand on the tent to make it rattle and flap.
Python made a loud retching sound as Avery and the others all laughed. Avery kept his dick in Python’s mouth until Python forced him away. Python coughed and spat pubic hairs on the floor of the tent.
“Damn it, Math! You ain’t been timin’?”
“Nah, I ain’t know you started yet. I-“
“You s’posed to start as soon as he gets in the tent!”
“That ain’t how it works, son. You tell me when you’s ready.”
“I’m fuckin’ ready!”
“Alright, I’ll start countin’ when the second hand reaches the twelve. Go fo’ it, Avery.”
“You ain’t gotta worry about the time then, Avery, cuz Python don’t know how to tell time on one of them circle-clocks.”
The bikers all laughed as though this was an inside joke. Python blushed.
“Get on your knees,” Avery said. He called out to the bikers. “You guys got any lube?”
A bunch of them cackled and volunteered their own supply. As Python sighed and got on all fours, they ran back to their tents and bikes. By the time Avery had worked those leather pants down to Python’s ankles, baring his big hairy ass and a thick cock, someone had unzipped the door to the tent just far enough to throw a tube of lube in. That was followed by about a dozen more half-full tubes.
“That enough?” Somebody called out from outside the rent.
“That’ll get us started,” Avery said. They all laughed again, banging on the side of the tent, which once more made the walls shake like an earthquake.
Python was on all fours, which was a less convenient position than it normally would be because Python was so much bigger than Avery. His ass lined up with Avery’s bellybutton, not his crotch. His asscheeks were much wider than Avery’s entire body, but they were plump, juicy cheeks, not at all flabby or fat. Avery’s hands spread Python’s buttcheeks to each side, baring his tight hole.
Slapping Python’s ass and marveling at its jiggling, Avery made a lot of noise for the benefit of the bikers outside the tent. Python blushed a bright red.
“Lower your hips some,” Avery said after wedging his dick between those hairy, sweaty asscheeks. Python grumbled but did as he was told. He lowered his ass until he was lined up with Avery’s crotch.
They both grunted when the tip of Avery’s dick pushed into Python’s guts. Avery’s grunt was a feminine lilting exhalation, while Python let out a loud oomph that made his biker-buddies chant and clap. Python gasped and clenched down hard. Avery was unable to get any more of his dick in.
“He ain’t lettin’ me in, Math! He’s squeezing me out!” Avery called out. Python shook his head as though Avery was snitching on him to the rangers again.
“Python!”
“Shut up, Math! I’m tryin’! He ain’t got a small dick, man…” Python barked, but he did loosen his ass a bit. “Y’know, if I told Lisa what you made me do, she’d be furious. She’d tell me to tell you to fuck off-“
Someone tossed a cell phone into the tent. It landed on the ground near Python’s face.
“Call her anytime you want.”
“I ain’t gotta do this!” Python yelled. He hung his head as he grunted, hyperventilating to relax his ass. It was not entirely effective, but Avery enjoyed forcing himself into that tight hole.
“No, you ain’t gotta! You could say you sorry. You could decide to stop actin’ like a piece of shit!”
“Nuh-uh, Math, that’s genetic. His daddy was a piece of shit, making Python half-shit himself.”
“He’s proud of his shit heritage.”
“If he ever has some kids, Math, your grandbabies is gonna be one-quarter shits.”
Math murmured something disapproving — Python’s sister was Math’s wife, so Python’s daddy was Math’s father-in-law. But Avery couldn’t hear what he said.
“Don’t you motherfuckers talk about my daddy!” Python roared.
“Do somethin’ ’bout it! Oh wait, you can’t cuz there’s a dick in yer ass.”
But Python just submitted, even as he roared in rage. He lowered his face to the ground, sticking his ass in the air. His cheeks and chest were bright red, and Avery noticed that his dick was hard. Avery reached around to his crotch and stroked it. Python jerked and spasmed like it hurt, but he angled his body to give Avery easier access.
“Fight me then, Python! Come on out here and throw down!”
From the attitude of the other bikers, Avery gathered that they all thought Python was a pussy at heart. They kept challenging him to fights as though they knew he’d never do it.
His broad back was dappled with sweat, muscles rippling beneath his thick flesh. Avery caressed his skin and licked that sweat off where he could reach, which, given Python’s bent-over position, was only about halfway up his back.
As he plowed harder and harder, Avery moved his body further up Python’s frame. Soon Avery had to angle his dick downward, jabbing it in as Python grunted and groaned in pain, and pleasure.
“Ah, shit, damn…”
Then Python’s knees buckled. Avery could feel the pleasure rolling through his body, and Avery knew that Python would never admit that was why he couldn’t support himself any more — the pleasure was too intense.
Python sunk slowly to the ground. He muttered at Math, but it was too quiet for even Avery to hear, much less anyone outside of the tent. Python splayed on the ground of the tent, fingers and toes curling as Avery inexorably humped.
One of his hands remained on Python’s cock, but since Python was on his belly on the ground, it wasn’t easy to stroke him. His dick throbbed in Avery’s fingers anyway, while Avery’s other hand explored Python’s thick-bodied chest and belly. Python winced as he did, like he was ticklish and trying to hide it.
“Hey,” Python whispered as the air filled the sound of revving engines — the bikers were riding in circles around the tent now. Python blushed, and Avery leaned forward as far as he could. Python bit his lip and whispered, “Uh… Don’t tell them motherfuckers I got hard… okay? Tell ’em I couldn’t get hard. You cornholed me, whatever, just don’t tell ’em I got hard wit’ a dick in my ass. I’d never live it down.”
A part of Avery wanted to be mean and vicious, and tell them right now. But of course he couldn’t really, because of the loud engines, and he wasn’t that cruel. Python was submitting gamely, that was enough for Avery. He nodded as Python settled on his side, giving Avery enough space to keep giving him a reacharound.
The zipper flap in the front of the tent was forced lower from outside again, and a long fat cock dangled into the tent. It was thick and tattooed with a smoking bong on the shaft. Outside someone — not Math, a different voice — guffawed.
“You want a taste of that one too, Python?”
“Make him swallow it, Avery, you still got him for three minutes-“
“Now hold up there, that ain’t how this game works. He ain’t a slave.”
“Ah, Math, come on-“
“Nah. You ain’t gotta taste no jizz dick, Python. Unless’n you want to.”
Python roared. He reached up and swatted the dick away, hitting it hard enough that the biker outside roared in pain and withdrew the cock.
“Where his dick at now, Python? Inside ya?”
“Show us on the doll where his dick is at?”
“Shut up, man!” Python screamed. His voice was thready and stilted, as he gasped from both pain and pleasure.
“Answer it,” Avery said with a grin. Python clenched in embarrassment, bit his lip and roared as his friends laughed and cheered him on. Avery shuddered as Python’s ass squeezed his dick, which throbbed, rubbing in and out.
“Where’s his dick at, Python?”
“His dick is… in my ass!” Python yelled. His face was bright red now, his muscles spasming beneath Avery’s touch while Avery’s other hand brought his cock to orgasm.
“Nah, come on, be more specific. Where’s his dick at, Python? You know the anatomy of yer asshole? You got the sphincter — that’s the opening itself, the actual hole — then the anus. That’s the first inch or two. After that, it’s called yer rectum. Is he in yer rectum?”
“Has he hit the prostate yet?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Python screamed out of the tent, so angry now his face was a bright red and he spat on the ground. His voice was hoarse and clipped. His vitriol was interrupted by a climax, which was so sudden it surprised Avery.
Python’s massive body tightened all at once, clenching down on Avery’s dick again. Cum sprayed over Python’s chest and belly, so much it dripped and matted his chest hair to his skin. Python gasped, biting down on the floor of the tent to muffle the sound of his moan.
Avery smiled. He gripped the sides of Python’s belly, rolling him over onto his belly. Python grunted and groaned but didn’t resist, even as his face and chest splashed into the puddle of his own cum that collected there. He gagged, causing a rolling undulation of his muscles beneath Avery’s grip, culminating in his asshole squeezing so tight around Avery’s cock it was like he didn’t want to let Avery go.
But Avery was relentless. He was a good bottom himself, and he knew well how to make sure Python’s body accepted his drilling. Avery pounded his dick as hard as he could, making Python grunt with each thrust of his hips. His balls made a loud slapping sound where they hit Python’s skin.
“You got one minute left, Avery. That enough time? I could give you a timeout if you need it…”
“That’ll do, Math, thanks!” Avery called out. He could already feel his orgasm coming on him.
Speeding up his humping, Avery violently plundered Python’s ass. Python moaned, trying to make it sound like a moan of agony. Python lifted his feet off the ground as he submitted to Avery’s cock.
The most intense orgasm of his life shot through Avery’s body. He squealed like a piggie, which made the bikers laugh as Avery knew it would. He sprayed cum inside Python’s ass, giggling while Python harrumphed like he had no idea that was going to happen. Pleasure shot up and down Avery’s spine, and he threw his head back, digging his nails into Python’s back.
At last it was over. Avery took a deep breath and sighed. He kept his dick in Python’s ass, squirming and making sure it touched every corner of his guts. Python clenched down with his feet and hands, tearing at the floor of the tent as though trying to dig into the dirt.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven!”
Avery wiped up all the cum he could find on Python’s chest. He rubbed his hand all over Python’s face, leaving a slick of cum there. His brownish skin and scarred body gleamed with the layer of semen coating his flesh. He gagged at the scent, and Avery inserted one of his own cum-streaked fingers into Python’s mouth.
“Six, five, four!”
“Aren’t you done?”
“I still got a few seconds,” Avery giggled. He wiggled his dick in Python’s ass, sending shockwaves of pain and post-orgasmic pleasure up Python’s spine.
“Three! Two! One!”
As soon as they reached one, they unzipped the tent and ripped the flap open. Everyone jeered at the sight of Avery’s tiny, smooth body on top of Python’s hairy back. Python crawled towards the door.
Avery really hadn’t intended to remain attached to Python’s ass even after the seven minutes were up, but it all happened so fast. He held on for support as Python climbed out of the tent, stark naked, pushing past his leather-clad biker buddies.
It was only when Python was out and standing up near the tent that Avery let himself slide off Python’s back. His dick plopped out of Python’s ass, making Python sigh in relief. He still blushed though as his friends laughed at him, and someone kept handing him a battered old teddy bear, telling him to point to the spot on the doll where Avery touched him.
Python just stalked away, screaming invective at his friends, promising to tell his sister about it, though it wasn’t clear what good that would do. He headed towards the showering facility on the other side of the campsite. He didn’t seem to care that he was naked, cock swinging in the breeze; the cum drying on his face wasn’t so obvious, since his entire body glistened with sweat. Avery, meanwhile, got dressed.
The bikers didn’t follow Python. Math urged them not to. “You gotta give him a chance to regain his pride, folks. Just leave him alone for a bit.”
“What’d you think?” asked another biker — the one who had put his dick in the tent, Avery guessed based on the voice.
“That was… nice,” Avery said, blushing. “You guys can make noise anytime you want, if that’s how you say sorry.”
“You really enjoyed that, huh?”
“It was definitely seven minutes in heaven…” Avery said with a grin.

The Lifeguard

When Avery makes a delivery at a summer camp before it opens, he happens upon a hunky head lifeguard, who’s willing to give Avery a swing on his studly meat… with a little consideration. Avery is in for a wild ride!

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Read the whole thing here!

Avery was done with his delivery, and he took a walk down by the beach. He was still at Camp Mittihara. It was a Jewish girls’s sports camp, but it was only early June. Camp hadn’t opened yet, so there were no kids around.
It was peaceful. Avery loved camping, and he would have enjoyed it here when he was a kid. It looked to be a very crowded camp though. They had ordered a hundred camp stoves. That was not something a small establishment did. It would not be pleasant, he thought, when there were kids here. Teeming, screaming masses of early and pre-teens. Avery couldn’t handle that many girls.
It was on the shore of Lake Mittihara, nestled in the mountains. The trail to the waterfront was lush and verdant, and Avery felt like an explorer hacking the first trail through an untouched wilderness. Avery wished he could stay here all summer. It was a large rocky beach now — it looked like they trucked fresh sand in each summer. It was mostly eroded away at the moment, leaving just rock behind. It’d be painful to walk on that beach.
There was a man at the beach. He was a tall, blond-haired and broad-shouldered jock with glistening tanned skin. Square jaw, blue eyes, rugged chin and enough swagger to make him come across like a bit of a bully, an overgrown bully though, like one who had never grown up even as his body did.
The most interesting thing about him at this moment, however, was that he was getting naked. He dropped his shorts. He flashed a huge cock, which was much paler than the rest of his body — he must have tanned naked though, because his ass was nut-brown like the rest of him. He headed for the water.
He winced when he dipped his toe in. He gasped and stepped back. “Ah, damn, damn,” he muttered loud enough for Avery to hear. Then he said, “Aw, fuck it!”
He stormed into the water, his teeth chattering right away. He howled and yelped. The air was warm today, but not all that warm, and it had been raining recently. The summer hadn’t really yet begun. There was still snow on the ground in some places up high in the mountains, Avery thought, and it was all melting into this lake. The water must be freezing.
The man was only in for a few seconds. He ran back out heaving for air. He went straight for the lifeguard tower on the beach. His skin was red like a cooked lobster. He was gasping and shivering, and his hand struggled to grip the door of the lifeguard tower because it shook so much.
That was when he stopped. He saw Avery, who suspected that the blond man blushed — it was hard to tell because his cheeks were rosy red from the cold water.
“Oh, uh… Hi,” he said. A painfully potent shiver erupted on his body. He gasped again and again, and he tried to say something else but the cold water had sunk into his bones. He shivered and ran into the lifeguard tower. He pulled out a towel and wrapped himself in it.
“Are you okay?”
His teeth chattering, the lifeguard said, “Uh… y-y-yeah, it’s fine.”
Avery came forward and grabbed a second towel from inside the tower. He rubbed it over the lifeguard’s ropy-muscled legs to get some of the water clinging to his skin. The lifeguard nodded and blushed.
“Who’re you?” He asked with some difficulty.
“My name is Avery. I delivered a load of camp stoves and shit, to the Quartermaster up the hill,” Avery said. He blushed in front of the handsome lifeguard, whose powerful muscles rippled as he shivered.
“Oh. Okay.” He bit his lip. His pecs twitched, and he took a deep breath, trying to stop shivering. “I’m Hark. Cool. Sorry, you, uh… Thanks for helping.” One violent shiver ran through his body. “Sorry, the water was cold. Crazy cold. Mad cold, shit!”
“No problem, Hark. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He blushed even deeper red. He took a deep breath, having finally stopped shivering though he still looked cold. “It’s just a tradition. It’s like a rule. The Waterfront Director has to do a polar bear dive every summer. I’ll have to do it again later cuz my staff wasn’t here, they won’t believe I did it. They’ll dunk me if they think I’m lying.” He chuckled. “That’s what I did to my Waterfront Director a couple summers ago. I waited until it had rained all night, cuz the water’s always freezing when that happens. And I pushed him in before breakfast.” He blushed like he had thought that story would be more interesting than it was.
“You’ve worked here a long time?”
“Five summers,” he said. He sighed. “This is probably my last summer. I need money, real money, not the pennies they pay. It sucks. I gotta move on, grow up, be an adult, I guess.”
“Being an adult sucks.”
“Yeah. It does.”
“So, uh, Hark…” Avery giggled girlishly. “Hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable, but, uh… do you want to make some money? I’ll give you a hundred bucks to cornhole me.” When Hark didn’t immediately respond, Avery said, “You know what cornholing is?”
“Yeah.” Hark still looked flummoxed. He looked at Avery like a math problem that didn’t add up.
“So, uh… how about it?”
There was another long pause. Then Hark croaked and ran a finger through his dense mop of blond hair. “You’ll pay me a hundred bucks? To do what?”
“Stick your dick in me. I wanna taste your dick, and I want you to stick me in the ass,” Avery said. “And cum. You have to cum in my ass.” He came closer and placed one finger on one of Hark’s taut pecs. He pulled a dollar bill out of his wallet and tucked it into the waist of Hark’s shorts. “Here. I’ll give you a dollar to let me touch your chest.”
“Uh…” Hark laughed and his face turned even redder than it had been when he got out of the water. His muscles rippled all over. “I, uh… I’m not… I’m not into that. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“Oh.”
“I bet you get lots of girls.”
Hark laughed sheepishly. His laughter was a little louder than was appropriate. It sounded forced. “Uh… Yeah. I do okay.”
“Well, Hark, I get the feeling that you’re too nervous to say yes, but you want to do it. Is that right?” Avery tweaked his nipple again. There was lakewater clinging to his smooth flesh. Avery leaned in and licked it off, making Hark laugh again. The lingering lakewater was cold, and Hark’s skin was still pink from chill, but he was warming up rapidly. “Why don’t I get just started? This is your beach, so you can make me leave anytime. And if you want, you can tell people I ravished you, that you didn’t have a choice.”
He chuckled. He was much larger than Avery, so the idea that Avery might overpower him was ridiculous. Hark was at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier, all of it muscle. He had a perfect six-pack and bulging biceps. Hark frowned like he would never tell anyone that a man had “ravished” him. He flexed his biceps and licked his teeth. He looked around as though there was some chance someone would walk in on them.
“I won’t be telling people,” he said. He looked up the hill. “Did you see a dude up there? Real skinny, walks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Actually, walks like he is a stick up his own ass, his flesh is just a stick-covering.” He laughed.
“Yeah, I did see him.” Avery said as he dropped to his knees. “He signed for my delivery. Is he really the Camp Director? He looks like a disgraced prison guard. They shouldn’t let him near kids.”
“I know, he’s an absolute ass. He doesn’t think we should sing at the Waterfront because it might distract the lifeguards,” he said with a scoff. He threw his hands in the air. “Kids expect their swimming instructor to sing. It’s like, a rule. Let’s go in the tower. He might come down here anytime.”
He led Avery into the lifeguard tower — it was just a wooden structure maybe fifteen feet tall, like the chair a lifeguard might sit in at a pool but this was bigger and taller since there was an entire lake to watch over (with boaters). The base of it was hollow and used for storage, plus it was a place for the lifeguards to change their clothes. It was a tiny closet, barely big enough for one person. But it was currently empty since all of the equipment was still in storage, so there was ample area for Hark to stand. Avery didn’t mind being crammed in there close to his studly body. The smell of lakewater and sweat filled the air in the stultifying tower.
“I’m not touching your dick. Sorry if it that’s, y’know, not romantic or whatever,” Hark said. He laughed like he was sharing a big joke.
“I know. That’s fine.” Avery pulled down the towel Hark had been using to cover himself. Hark’s dick was not especially large at the moment, but Avery could tell that was only because of the cold water and the chilly morning air.
Hark’s whole body twitched when Avery touched his cock, which was freezing cold — that was one part of the body that hadn’t begun warming up yet. It seemed to even shrink more when Avery touched it. Maybe Hark realized that, because his cheeks turned bright red, or maybe that was the startling temperature difference making his skin flush, as the inside of this lifeguard tower was humid and hot like a mid-summer noon.
His cock poked limply in Avery’s hand. Avery didn’t mind it staying limp and even small for the moment, because it gave him a chance to handle it while sucking on Hark’s nipples and making his pecs flex and ripple. Avery’s mind was brought back to old episodes of Baywatch and the relentless stiffies that showed had given him.
Maybe Hark had similar thoughts, because as David Hasselhoff ran through Avery’s mind, Hark’s meat also throbbed and twitched, just like Avery’s was. Both shafts perked up. Avery’s raced right to full erection, while Hark’s was more of a slow and elegant firming up.
After only a minute or two, Hark’s cock perked up and became mighty indeed, more than ten inches long at least and thicker than Avery’s wrist. Avery smiled and kissed it on the tip. When he did, Hark bucked and winced like it hurt. He laughed too.
“Ah, man, this is crazy…” His cock twitched in Avery’s mouth. It was very cold, the lakewater having seeped into it. It was an odd sensation at first, tasting a freezing cold dick. But it soon warmed up in Avery’s mouth, and it stiffened into a nearly foot-long rod. Avery let his tongue lap at the whole length of it, which made Hark’s eyes open wide.
Hark groaned. He must have been the kind of person who dealt with anxiety by laughing, Avery decided, because he didn’t stop chuckling the entire time. His face was ruddy, eyes wild and flitting back and forth as though there might be people hiding somewhere in the tiny, empty lifeguard tower.
Even when his dick was rock-hard and sliding all the way down Avery’s throat, Hark still kept laughing. To a casual observer it might have sounded like this was all a prank and Hark was laughing because he had pulled one over on Avery. Avery thought it was cute — there was nothing more arousing than a handsome guy getting embarrassed.
He slathered spit up and down that veiny cockshaft. He coated its veiny surface with his saliva, making Hark gasp in between his laughs. He traveled down to the root and licked that sensitive underspot where his cock met his crotch. That must have felt good, because Avery could see the pleasure shimmy its way from Hark’s dickroot to his face, which screwed up as he let out a moan.
“Oh god, wow… Wow… I’m not gonna tell anyone about this,” Hark said. “No way. I can’t believe I’m doing this, no way can I tell anyone, man.”
“That’s fine-” Avery slapped his own face with Hark’s cock, which was rock-hard now.
“I just can’t.”
“That’s fine, Hark, I don’t want you to tell anyone. You’re the kind of person who shares every detail of his life, right? It’s okay to keep things secret by default. You don’t need to convince anyone,” Avery said. He licked Hark’s shaft from root to tip one more time. “Are you ready to get it in me?”
He looked terrified, and he even glanced towards the door like he was considering running away. He nodded though, and closed his eyes. “I’ve never, y’know… fucked a girl in the ass. Is it…? I mean, is it the same? Or whatever?”
“It’s exactly the same. Men and women have the same buttholes, Hark,” Avery said. “Sometimes men are hairier.” He turned around and bent over. He had a tube of lubricant in his pocket — he kept it with him for precisely these sorts of encounters — so he pulled it out and smeared some over his ass.
“Huh. I had no idea. The staff at Camp Markowa across the lake are all Jamaicans — and one Trinidadian dude who’s a total dickhead — and, uh, all of them have no hair on their chest. It’s weird-looking.”
“Yeah, Jamaicans sometimes have a little body hair, but not as much as white guys.”
“Oh. Wow, you learn something new every day. Hey, can I make fun of them for it?” he asked as he approached Avery’s backside. He flopped his dick against Avery’s smooth cheek, and he jumped back, laughing when he made contact. “Can I, uh… I dunno how, just like tell ’em they look like a black seal or something? Or a black otter? I don’t know, I can’t think of a good burn right now. Or would that be racist?”
“Uh… Well, I don’t know those guys. But you should probably find something else to tease them about. Jamaicans hate menstruation. Call them a maxi-pad or something,” he said. Avery teased Hark’s chest muscles with his tongue, which made Hark mutter and groan. Avery shifted his ass up and down, rubbing it against the underside of Hark’s throbbing cock.
“Oh okay, cool. I’ll fill their tower up with tampons, that’ll be funny.” He paused. “Shit, how expensive are tampons? What if the tampons spill in the water? Do they like… get really big? What if they fill the lake? No, they don’t get big when girls use them, right? They just soak it up?”
“Hark, stop talking and stick it in me. You’re distracting yourself,” Avery said. He giggled. Hark, it seemed, was a bit of a dumbass, which Avery thought was cute. “The amount I don’t know about tampons could — and does — fill a gynecology textbook. Just stick it in.”
“Oh. Okay. Cool. Cool. Okay. Cool. No problem. Sure,” Hark said. He ran a finger through his blond hair. He took a deep breath. His dick was still hard, throbbing at the entrance to Avery’s ass. “I’ll just do it. No thinking about it. Just do it.”
He pushed and Avery opened his ass wide to make it easy. There was a tingling sense of pain but it went away quickly as Avery adjusted. He moaned, the sound of which made Hark laugh again.
Now that Avery was bent over, he took up more space in the cramped tower. So he and Hark had to squeeze in. Hark had been trying to touch Avery as little as possible, but that was no longer an option because they were pushed into this tiny area. Avery grabbed the wall, and Hark’s hands fluttered in the air, unwilling to touch Avery any more than necessary.
At last Hark found purchase by grabbing the ceiling of the tower, and holding on tight like he was on a rocking ship. He gritted his teeth and plowed.
Another surge of pain hit Avery, but this one was overshadowed by pleasure because Hark’s cock hit his prostate. Avery moaned and grunted. He dug his nails into the splintery wood of the lifeguard tower. There were names and words painted onto it, Avery hadn’t noticed because most of them were faded. It looked like every year’s lifeguards painted their names somewhere, sometimes adding little pictures or funny slogans. The summer time forgot one of them said, it looked freshest, like it was from last year, and sure enough Kaith Harkness was the second name listed below the slogan.
“Hey! Hark!” A deep voice bellowed from outside the tower. “Hark! They’re delivering your motorboat in an hour! Hey Hark! Hark! You gotta be here…” the man’s voice trailed off when he didn’t see Hark.
“Shit, shush, shush,” Hark said. “That’s Matt, the Camp Director. Shush.” Though he desperately shushed Avery, Hark was the only one making noise. Avery was used to getting using his dick quietly. He cringed and winced, biting back his moans of pleasure. Hark hushed him over and over, even as he continued slowly grinding his dick in deeper and deeper. It didn’t seem that Hark was even aware he was still going, his hips gyrating out of pure instinct as he peered through the cracked door.
The Camp Director stalked onto the beach. He called out towards the lake. “Hey! Hark! You here?! Where’d he go?”
“Sssssh…” Hark said softly right into Avery ear. They were both on the ground now, Hark swaying his hips side to side as his muscles flexed against Avery’s smooth back. Sand scratched at Avery’s belly and chest.
The Camp Director sighed and turned around. “Not here.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Hark! Hark! You get back here! If they drop off this motorboat and you’re not here to… I dunno, do whatever you do with motorboats, I swear to God, I will fire you in a heartbeat.” His voice trailed off as he walked away.
When he was finally gone, Hark laughed right into the back of Avery’s head. “What does he think I need to do with the motorboat? It’s just a boat. It goes in the water and sits there. If it’s broken, I’ll call a mechanic. I certainly don’t know how to fix it. The only thing to do is watch them put it in the water.”
“Uh-huh.” Avery was too close to orgasm to think of anything to say.
“Or is there something else? I’ve never been Waterfront Director before. Do you know how to use a motorboat? Am I supposed to, like… change the oil or something before it goes in the water? Do motorboats use engine oil?”
“Hark… Hark, I’m paying you to put it in me. You have to pay attention to that,” Avery said. He gasped. Despite — or maybe because of — Hark’s distraction, Avery endured a potent orgasm. Waves of pleasure flowed through his veins, and Avery’s whole body shook in Hark’s arms.
“Sorry.” He bit his lip. “Are you… cumming right now? Shit…”
A huge load sprayed right onto the cement floor of the lifeguard tower. It was thick and creamy, and the salty-sweet scent filled the air. Hark wrinkled his nose and paused before he continued. He looked surprised, like he was shocked Avery actually enjoyed getting it in the butt.
“I kind of forgot you were paying me,” he said with a laugh. He again sounded distracted. “I’m going to take my whole staff out to dinner before the kids show up, that’s what I’ll spend that money on. Tommy did that two summers ago. It’s classy, don’t you think? I should buy beer too. They’re mostly not old enough to drink at a restaurant, so we’ll have to drink here-“
“Hark? Shut up.” Avery was breathless and overwhelmed by the feelings pumping through his veins.
“Oh. Sorry,” he said. He gyrated his hips, slamming his dick in with one long smooth motion. He grunted. “A lot of girls complain I talk too much during sex. I don’t mean to. I think I just like to distract myself, like I — Nevermind, sorry.”
“You do talk too much.”
Hark gritted his teeth as aftershocks of his own orgasm wracked his body. The talking didn’t end up slowing Hark down. He moaned and bucked, shoulders tensing as he reached his own orgasm. He wrapped one muscular arm around Avery’s neck, holding him tight. Avery breathed deeply of the lakewater and sweat that clung to his flesh.
Cum flew into Avery’s backside, a great long flow of creamy juices that filled him up. The emanating heat made Avery moan again, and it reawakened his orgasm. He clawed at the ground and licked Hark’s muscular bicep. As the pleasure wracking his body grew more intense, Avery grunted and nibbled on his tender skin until Hark pulled his arm away.
At last it was over. Avery fell limp, giggling as Hark was finally serious for a moment. Hark had a pinched, solemn expression on his face. He sighed. His cheeks were bright red. He looked relieved, like he had been worried he wouldn’t be able to cum at all.
“Ah, shit… Okay… Well, that wasn’t so bad,” he said. He shrugged. “Okay. Not bad. Okay.” He paused. His eyes bugged out — he had only just now realized that he had no way of forcing Avery to pay. “You better pay me, man. I’ll… I’ll call the cops! I mean, I can’t tell them what, but, you know… I’ll tell them something, I’ll tell them you cheated me.”
“Don’t worry, Hark, I’ll pay,” Avery said. He stood and stretched his legs. He pulled out his wallet and counted out money. Hark watched, then grabbed an old ratty t-shirt that looked to have been sitting on a shelf all winter. He wiped his cock off.
Avery handed him the money and he took it just as the sound of an idling truck filled the air. Hark peeked out and gasped. “Shit, the motorboat. You gotta wait in here. No, wait, whatever, they don’t know who you are. You’re a delivery guy. You’re allowed to be here. No, wait, you can’t be in here, I can’t explain why you’re in the lifeguard tower. Wait here.” He paced in the tiny space, his limp cock flopping between his legs.
“Okay.” Avery didn’t want to go anywhere yet anyway. He was basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.
“Alright. I’ll be fine. They don’t know what happened,” he said. He walked out the tower door. Avery saw him go in slow motion, so he didn’t remind Hark to put his clothes on — he assumed Hark was going to put his shorts on before he stepped outside, but he didn’t. Hark was so distracted and stressed that he forgot he was naked.
He walked right out onto the beach and said, “Okay, hey guys, thanks for bringing the motorboat. Let’s put it in the water right over there. Is the gas tank full?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the truck’s engine.
Deep-voiced laughter filled the air. There were hoots, hollering — it sounded like a strip club out there. The two men in the truck laughed so hard they cried and slapped their knees. Hark blushed a deep red, but he felt compelled to go with it. He pretended he was naked deliberately.
“What? You guys scared of a real man’s cock?” Hark said with a proud laugh. “Hey, shut up. Fuck you guys, come on. This is, uh… A tradition. The Waterfront Director always has to be naked on his first day, when no one else is there. That’s all. It’s just tradition. A lifeguard tradition.”

Tag: paid books

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