police – Mansploitation

The Married Cop

When Avery is robbed, he meets up with a cop with a wife and a physique Avery could… and just might worship for days! Officer Heartley is a bull-headed macho cop who needs to get a little relief, and Avery is all too happy to help out!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was furious about his hotel room being robbed. It was only eighty dollars, but still — having security to prevent this sort of thing was exactly why Avery was loyal to the chain. He had explained this to the manager in no uncertain terms, and he had gotten a refund as well as a free day in the room. That was worth more than what he had lost.
There was nothing to do now, however, but wait and pace. The police were on their way, supposedly. Avery knew the police wouldn’t do anything for eighty dollars, but he wanted to make his statement. This was an annoying distraction when he was trying to be more productive in his life. He wanted to hurry up and file his complaint so he could get back to work.
When the cops arrived, however, Avery was at a loss for words. His blood ran hot and his cock twitched in his pants, his annoyance at the robbery having vanished. One of the officers was a skinny young woman, but the other was a sturdy older man. He was Officer Malcolm Heartley, and he had a square jaw like a superhero.
“Sorry to hear about ya troubles, sir,” Officer Heartley said with the most delightfully full-bodied voice, all baritone echoes emanating from beneath his scruffy throat, a somewhat awkward tremble to it — he was one of those delightfully strong men who weren’t swaggerous and cocky. Avery thought a note of unconfidence made him even more handsome. “So you sure there ain’t nothin’ else missin’?”
“Yeah, that’s it, thanks,” Avery said. He blushed a little because he could feel Officer Heartley looking at him. He wished he could come up with a reason to make Officer Heartley stay.
“Alright, thank you for callin’ it in,” Officer Heartley said. Avery could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t think they would find the money. The woman cop said they would keep looking for the culprit, but Avery didn’t find her very convincing. It was only eighty dollars, after all, Avery thought, surely there were more important crimes in this city.
“Thank you for your help, officer,” Avery said. He clasped Officer Heartley’s well-muscled arm in hand. He shook the woman’s hand too, but he was so blinded by Officer Heartley’s strength and the body heat radiating off him that he shook her hand in an automaton trance.
And that was that, Avery’s distemper was gone, and the hotel-room robbery seemed like a memory from his distant past. Avery loved older men with fantastic physiques, and Officer Heartley was a perfect one. He was dark-skinned, thick and jowly, but not fat, just muscle and meat all over, you could tell he was used to home-cooked meals in a warm home. His face had a few wrinkles under the eyes, and his beard hairs were flecked with gray.
“We’ll call you if we learn anything,” said the perky blonde cop. She was hot too, beautiful really, Avery thought, but he had no interest in her. She was lost in the alluring aura emanating from Officer Heartley.
But he couldn’t stick around. The florist trade-show was over. It was time to go back home. He checked out of his room.
He sat down in the hotel lounge to work on the novel he had promised himself he’d finish a rough draft of on this trip. It took a few hours to get his focus back. He took several breaks, and drank a ton of coffee in a coffeeshop next to the hotel.
He finally got a little writing done around eight o’clock, and he went down to the hotel bar to celebrate afterwards. He was just about to sit when he realized he shouldn’t reward the hotel for letting someone steal from his room. He should go to a different bar.
He had no sooner walked outside, however, when he saw a police car pull into the parking lot. It was Officer Heartley, and he rolled down his window. “Hey, there you are. We caught the guy who had your cash, we can give it back if you come with me. You gotta fill out some forms.”
Avery got in. “Really? You caught him?”
“Yeah, I’m as surprised as you. But he hit a couple hotels in the area, apparently he hacked a swipe card that works in any of them. One of the hotels caught him on camera,” Officer Heartley said as he drove away and Avery buckled his seat-belt.
“Where’s your partner?”
“Oh, we’re off now. She’s out with her hot new boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’re off-duty?! That’s so sweet of you to come get me!” Avery said.
“Well, you know… I don’t like out-of-towners gettin’ the wrong impression ‘bout my town,” Officer Heartley said. “You single?”
“Yes I am,” Avery said. He cleared his throat. “What about you?” He made sure to speak in a slow, seductive tone. Officer Heartley had to know what that meant.
“I’m separated. My wife left me.”
“Oh you poor baby, it must have been a long time since you’ve been with a woman,” Avery said. He patted Officer Heartley’s well-muscled forearm.
He nodded.
“Well you know, I have a magical power,” Avery said. “I can make guys forget about their wives. Who’s got a mouth, an ass and a need to please? This guy!” Avery pointed to himself.
“That’s… I don’t do that, no thank you, sir,” Officer Heartley said, but with a nervous tremble to his voice. Avery could tell he wanted to do it. He was responding to Avery’s flirtatious tone. But a lot of guys did that because they liked the attention, it didn’t mean they were interested. Especially once they were married, many guys were desperate for someone to call them handsome.
“Hmm… That’s unfortunate. Tell your wife I’m going to steal every inch of her husband.”
After a long pause, Officer Heartley said, “I’m not going to tell her that.”
They pulled into the police station then. Avery went in with him, filled out the requisite paperwork and saw the skeezy-looking guy who had been caught. He was sitting there in a hallway in handcuffs. Avery didn’t know that’s who it was until Officer Heartley pointed him out.
When he had his eighty dollars back, Avery headed out to the parking lot. Officer Heartley brought him to the police car. Then he sat behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything. It looked like he was waiting.
“Officer Heartley?” Avery wondered if he had done something wrong. “Hey, uh… are you okay? You don’t have to take me back to the hotel, I can afford a cab. Or an uber. Or I can walk, it’s like five blocks.”
“Shush…” Officer Heartley said with a desperate gulp. He opened the door for Avery to get in. “I ain’t pervy.”
A long pause ensued. Avery wanted to say fine, but he had just been shushed, so Avery didn’t say anything.
Finally Officer Heartley spoke again. “You, uh… My wife… My wife used to be so different, y’know. I don’t think I changed that much since we got married. We used to go out and she wanted to, y’know…” He glanced at Avery. “Like… she wanted to suck me off, y’know, in the bathroom.”
“What?”
He blushed. “No, I mean, she don’t have a bathroom-fetish, I just mean we’d go out somewhere and she’d wanna bang in like a closet or bathroom or something. She’d wanna suck my dick.” He paused. “But now, she just like… She don’t even wanna look at me. She got kinda fat and her hair is always a mess and she don’t shave her pussy no more, she barely even shaves her armpits, and if I mention it at all, she freaks out, but she is always calling me a fat-ass and when I fart she calls me a nasty shit.” Then he whispered hoarsely. “It makes me feel bad.”
“Oh, you poor baby…” Avery said. He patted Officer Heartley’s belly. He wasn’t fat, but he had a belly there. He looked like he probably had a six-pack back when he met his wife, so any amount of fat might have seemed like a beer-gut to her. Officer Heartley’s muscles rippled beneath his uniform shirt. “You can tell her how you feel. Tell her it hurts your feelings.”
He rolled his eyes. “I, y’know… I can’t say that.”
“You said it to me.”
“Yeah, but you’re… you know.”
“So you can tell a guy you barely know, but not your wife?”
He shrugged. “She won’t care. She’s…” He whispered again. “She’s such a bitch.”
“Do you want me to-?”
“Shush. Don’t say it,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest of his squad car. It was parked in a row of other squad cars. No one was behind them, just a solid fence with barbed-wire atop it, so they couldn’t be surprised. In the main part of the parking lot, officers currently on-duty met with their partners and sipped coffee before getting in their own squad cars and driving off.
Officer Heartley unzipped his slacks and pulled his cock out. It was big and fleshy, and Avery thought you could tell just by looking at it that no one had been treating it right in a long time. He bet Officer Heartley’s wife even got mad if he jacked off to Internet porn, so Heartley was probably in a world of frustration.
Sure enough, it twitched as soon as Avery touched it. “Oh, it’s so big! Your wife must have loved taking it in her ass when you two were just dating!” Avery smiled at the frustrated look on Officer Heartley’s face. He suspected that, if he kept bringing up anal sex, Officer Heartley would be unable to resist. “I know I couldn’t resist begging for it in my tight asshole if we dating and I was a girl. I would crave this cock all up in me. What was her pussy like?”
His dick twitched beneath Avery’s fingers. Officer Heartley moaned. “Ah, shit, man, it was velvety and smooth and… damn, I want that again. Shit…”
Avery breathed heavily, and he tried to sound as girlish as he could. Officer Heartley’s eyes were closed, his great cavernous chest heaving as he breathed and Avery stroked his dick, slowly and unctuously at first, sliding his hand up and down. He paused to spit onto his palm, which made Heartley moan again when Avery resumed stroking.
“Were you a cop when you met her?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to be. I told her that on our first date,” he said. His voice sounded croaky and tense, his eyes still scrunched shut tightly. “But I was just a painter then.”
“Oh?!” Avery snaked his other hand into Officer Heartley’s pants, from which his cock stuck out through the fly. He handled his sweaty balls.
“Shit, man, that feels so good…” Officer Heartley said. He settled back in his seat like he was ready for this to last a long time.
“I know. I think you’re really handsome in that uniform. And I bet you’d be just as handsome in anything else,” Avery said. He unbuttoned the bottom of Officer Heartley’s uniform shirt, making his undershirt-clad belly visible. He bent over and kissed his belly, blowing a raspberry as though it was a baby’s hairy belly. Officer Heartley laughed and his dick twitched in Avery’s hand. “You’re so manly, your wife is stupid if she doesn’t suck you off all the time.”
Officer Heartley glanced at him, his eyes open now. He watched his cock pulsate, a few drops of precum leaking out and lubricated Avery’s fingers. “Man… I dunno.”
“Nothin’ wrong with men makin’ each other feel good. You just close your eyes and let me make you feel good. Is it okay if I put my mouth on it, sweetie?”
He grunted and gritted his teeth as though being called sweetie turned him on. He shook his head. “Wait… I mean…” His pecs bounced beneath his shirt. “I mean…”
Avery could tell he was wavering. Avery moaned right in his ear. “Oh, sweetie… Your dick needs to get wet, I can tell. It’s so dry. Your balls are so full they’re going to burst, you poor baby.” He unbuttoned his uniform shirt the rest of the way. “What if I just put the tip in my mouth? Okay? Just the tip? I won’t do nothin’ else until you tell me it’s okay.”
His voice was breathless and jagged. “Yeah. Just the tip, okay. Okay.” He put one meaty hand on the back of Avery’s head and guided him down to his cock. Avery opened up and put his cocktip on his tongue, then slurped exuberantly. He spat up plenty of spit that ran down Officer Heartley’s shaft and soaked his crotch.
Now that he was so close to Officer Heartley’s body, he could smell his unwashed clothes — was he in trouble with his wife? Staying in a motel? Possibly, Avery thought.
“Just the tip, okay?” Officer Heartley said, his voice a low throaty rumble.
Avery made eye contact with him, but Officer Heartley immediately closed his eyes. Flopping his hard dick over his face, Avery let out a long cooing moan and called Heartley his baby again. “My sweet little baby… Ooh… Your dick tastes like candy, baby, I wanna make love to your cock.”
“Just the tip.” His voice sounded like he wanted to be firm and confident, but it came out as weak and wavery.
“‘Course, baby, just the tip,” Avery said, trying to hide his disappointment. He used one hand to stroke his shaft, while he kept his mouth on just the tip, suckling loudly, moistly. He had to cram his head in between Officer Heartley’s massive body and the steering wheel.
“Hey! Alan! You in there?”
“I’ll go see, he probably knows where it is.”
Avery heard that, but he couldn’t see because his head was in Officer Heartley’s crotch — and he didn’t even know Heartley’s first name was ‘Alan’. He assumed it was other cops getting into a patrol car. But when he heard their voices getting closer, he lifted his head.
Luckily, the sun shined into the windshield; it would have been blinding, but these patrol cars had glare-canceling windshields. It did make it impossible for anyone outside to see into the car from this angle, however, which was good because Avery saw a pair of uniformed officers some thirty feet away. If it weren’t for that glare, they would have seen Officer Heartley leaning back and then seen Avery’s head pop up from his crotch.
“Shit! Someone’s coming,” Avery said.
Officer Heartley opened his eyes, roared in frustration and jumped into action. He forced Avery’s head back down where it couldn’t be seen, his hard dick still leaking precum onto Avery’s face. He turned the engine on and rammed the car into drive.
“Shit!” Officer Heartley grunted, his voice desperate and plaintive, dick leaking precum over Avery’s cheeks. He drove to the right — which was not the way out of the parking lot, but did mean the officers would be on the driver’s side, so they wouldn’t see Avery without coming very close to the car.
“Where are you going, Alan?”
“Hey, did you see that memo from the DA? We wanted to ask if you knew about the plea forms, how does that work? Sheila said she never heard of them.”
Officer Heartley’s face was ruddy. He rolled down his window and waved as though this was normal, and nothing was wrong. “Hey guys,” he said. His mind whirred, his cocktip now back in Avery’s mouth. “Uh… Yeah… Plea forms are the same thing as those D9s. Just tell Sheila that, you need D9s.”
The other two cops exchanged glances that were both confused and enlightened — that was a helpful answer to their question, they were simply confused because Officer Heartley had a tense, pained expression on his face. But they just assumed he wasn’t feeling well, or had gotten in a fight with his soon-to-be ex-wife on the phone — perhaps, they thought, that was why he had been sitting in his car in this parking lot for a long time.
They just watched the squad car drive all the way around the parking lot, finally leaving onto Poplar Avenue and nearly going the wrong way on it until Heartley realized what he was going. He drove south into downtown.
“You still got your hotel?”
“No, I checked out,” Avery said.
He barely even noticed his hand pressing down on Avery’s head. He didn’t really intend to get deep-throated. That was an uncomfortably pervy idea to him. But he had an instinctual urge to push Avery all the way down on his shaft, plus he wanted Avery to keep his head down. So he did it without thinking about it, without even noticing until he realized Avery’s nose was in his pubic hair.
“Oh god…” Officer Heartley moaned.
His cock tasted amazing: salty and warm and musky, Avery crooned and sucked it all down. He didn’t care about his own throat crying out for oxygen and relief. He wanted to taste Officer Heartley until he had had enough and couldn’t take it anymore.
He drove to the most rundown motel in the bad part of town, a motel that was well-known as the epicenter of the city’s red light district. That was where all the hos brought their johns. Officer Heartley felt disgusted with himself going there at all for non-law-enforcement purposes, but it was where he had driven without thinking about it.
“I’ll get us a room,” he said. He took a deep breath. His cock ached. He wanted to get go at it all night like his wife used to do. He wanted to have so many orgasms it made up for the years his wife had been ignoring him.
But first, he had to awkwardly put his dick back in his uniform slacks and get out of the patrol car. It must have been obvious he had an erection, and he was pretty sure there was even a wet spot on his crotch — he was too excited and exhilarated and mind-bogglingly horny to even look down.
He raced into the front lobby and virtually tossed some cash at the dour-faced man behind the counter. “I need a room!”
“How many hours? Officer?” the man asked. He looked at Officer Heartley as though he thought he was catching him doing something wrong. He probably assumed a cop would only be here because he was getting free services from a prostitute. But Officer Heartley was too horny to stop and explain that he was just jacking off.
“Uh…” He had no idea what was normal. “Overnight.”
“You’re thirty bucks short,” the man said.
Officer Heartley cursed and scowled and handed over his credit card. That hardon wasn’t going away, it just kept throbbing painfully in his clothes.
It took forever, but finally Heartley got his key. He darted out into the parking lot again, and motioned for Avery to come to him. They scampered to the room, Officer Heartley’s pants already coming off even before he opened the door.
He dove onto the bed on his belly — which caused intense pain in his still-erect cock — then he rolled over onto his back. In seconds, his dick was out the fly and in Avery’s mouth. He let out a long, low sigh.
It took a few seconds for either of them to notice that the door was still open. Avery had barely gotten the fresh taste of precum in his mouth before he got up to slam the door shut. He returned to swallowing Heartley’s shaft.
“Oh god, yes…” Officer Heartley held onto Avery by the back of his head, fucking his throat deeply.
It was all over in seconds now. Officer Heartley’s balls crawled up in his sac, and his veiny shaft pulsated in Avery’s throat. Hot, creamy cum coated his mouth and slicked down to his belly. It was thick and warm, and it sat hotly in his stomach.
He tasted salty and sour and a bit sweet, with a strongly musky taste that Avery adored. There were flavors of steel and copper and unwashed fabric, cocoa butter and cheap deodorant. Avery guzzled down every drop, smiling at the sight of Officer Heartley writhing violently beneath him.
Then at last he pulled off, grinning at Officer Heartley’s shocked expression. “That was not just the tip,” Avery said coyly. He stroked his limp dick.
“Yeah, well… I changed my mind.” Officer Heartley groaned. “I paid for this room all night and I busted a nut in about five seconds.”
Avery giggled. “You didn’t think this was all over already, did you? I’m going to stroke your dick until it falls off. And then I’ll find another penis to attach, and I’ll stroke on that till it falls off.” He playfully groped Officer Heartley’s chest beneath his uniform shirt.
“You got spare penises?” He chuckled dryly. He was about to speak again, when there was a loud moan in the hotel room next door.
They both blushed and smiled. This motel rented rooms by the hour to prostitutes, and it seemed there was one such transaction going on right next-door. Officer Heartley sighed and stood up. The moaning from next-door was not too loud — they could only hear the man, whose deep voice was easily audible. Avery could hear a woman’s practiced heavy breathing only when he pressed his ears against the wall.
He yelped and stepped away when a woman let out a little yelp. “I said not to pull my hair,” she said. “Quit it, get off me.” There was a loud thump, it sounded like she had pushed the man off her and he fell off the bed.
“You bitch! I paid for an hour, you best believe I am getting all sixty minutes! I swear I’ll call Bernard-“
“He says no one can pull my hair, not for no amount of money, cuz my hair could fall out-“
“I wasn’t gonna pull ya hair out, you fuckin’ cunt! I just needed somethin’ to grab onto. Ya tiny-ass titties ain’t enough-“
“Oh, you’re complainin’ ‘bout my size? I thought you stuck your nipple in my pussy until I opened my eyes!”
Avery listened to the argument with wide eyes and baited breath. Should he call the police? He realized he didn’t need to just as Officer Heartley was redoing his belt and running out the door. “Stay here,” Heartley said.
Avery didn’t want to get in the way, so he followed orders. He stayed with his ear to the wall so he could hear. Both the man and Officer Heartley shouted at once, as Officer Heartley pounded on the door. Then when it was opened, there was more shouting, with the woman joining in this time.
“Shut the fuck up! You don’t know what was going on here!”
“I do know! I could hear every word-“
“Oh? What were you doing in this place? Huh?”
“Not any bit of your business, motherfucker, it was totally legal,” Officer Heartley said.
Avery poked his head out the door and was shocked to see that the man being led away in cuffs was another cop. Officer Heartley had arrested a state trooper. The woman in the hotel room glanced at Avery without noticing him.
Then Avery just sat and waited in the hotel room. He was glad to have the chance to recover. After a few minutes, he went over and talked to the prostitute. He helped her fix her hair and makeup. She said she didn’t want to file any report about the cop who had attacked her, but Avery talked her into doing it. Some other officers arrived then — Heartley had shown up at the police station, his uniform shirt still unbuttoned and askew, his hair a mess, so he had endured great ribbing and later got written up for dress code violations.
He told them about the state policeman, so others came out take a statement from the prostitute.
Finally the door opened, and Officer Heartley returned to the hotel room. He had fixed his uniform and his hair only to realize he had waited until too late — by the time he came out of the station men’s room looking like a professional, he was no longer needed. He was off-duty again. So he had gotten scrubbed up just to come back to Avery.
“Goddamn,” Officer Heartley said when he saw Avery sitting there on the bed. Avery immediately dropped to his knees and grabbed for Heartley’s crotch as though he was in desperate need for more cock. He didn’t even let him drop his pants, he just undid the fly and started slurping on it until Officer Heartley made him stop long enough to take his pants off.
“Do you wanna stick me in the ass?” Avery asked. He shook his ass towards Officer Heartley. “Please? I want to feel your cock inside me… You can ramrod me so hard, harder than your wife ever let you, I bet. I’ll never make you stop. And you can cum inside me, okay? You can drown me in cum…”
“Shit, boy, don’t talk like that, you’re gonna make me nut…” Officer Heartley closed his eyes again. He stood there, impatiently waiting as Avery took his pants off.
Then, at last, Avery got to back up on his dick. Like a lot of guys, Officer Heartley didn’t really know how to plow a man in the ass, so Avery had to take charge. Heartley just stood there by the bed while Avery lifted his ass up.
He ground his ass against Officer Heartley’s cock, letting it rub against his asshole. He clenched his hole too, making Heartley grunt and writhe. Avery reached behind himself and guided it into his ass.
“Oh, god, it’s so big!” Avery exclaimed. That was not a lie — it was big — but Avery only said it to puff up Officer Heartley’s ego. Besides that, he knew the position he wanted and it might take some effort to talk him into it. “Oh… I don’t know if I can do this,” Avery said.
“You said you could take it no matter what-“
“I didn’t know it was gonna be so big… You’re gonna ruin my ass, it’ll feel so good I never wanna do it again,” Avery said with a plaintive wail. “Hmm… Here, give me your arm.” He backed himself up farther, making Officer Heartley’s whole body shake as his dick sank deeper onto Avery’s ass. Avery took Officer Heartley’s well-muscled arm and wrapped it around himself, in a loose chokehold. That both provided more support and allowed Avery to lick and kiss every inch of Officer Heartley’s arm. “There you go, you’re so strong… I’m sure I can take your dick as long as I feel your strong arms around me, sweetie. That way I’ll know you’re keeping me safe.”
“Hmmm…” Officer Heartley grunted and bucked. His voice broke in Avery’s ear.
Avery loved getting plowed by older men like him. Officer Heartley was so handsome and macho and desperately horny. He craved affection — his wife was mean to him, and his fellow officers always gave him shit, and the civilians he interacted with almost universally hated him — so when Avery moaned and begged for more cock, that was nearly enough to make him cum all by itself.
“Oh god, get it deep in me!” Avery cried out. He wondered if there was anyone else in the motel who could hear that. That made him giggle, burying himself back on Officer Heartley’s cock.
He was all the way in now. Officer Heartley’s ex-wife had never taken it in the ass like this. She’d let him put it in her butt when they were dating, but only a few times, and only until it started to hurt — with a cock like that, it hurt right away. So he’d never had anal sex to completion, never got his entire shaft in her ass.
But Avery took it easily, with just a bit of struggle. Avery exaggerated it over and over to puff up Heartley’s ego. “It’s so big!” He even bit down on Heartley’s forearm, prompting a grunt from Officer Heartley’s lips.
Then they both went down to the bed, Avery squashed by Heartley’s massive bear-like body. Heartley finally began plowing without Avery needing to take charge. He pounded away, sticking his entire foot-long dick in, then pulling out and marveling at Avery’s asshole twinkling, begging for more.
“I’m gonna nut…” He grunted right into Avery’s ear. His wife used to like it when he said that. It was enough to trigger her orgasm, as it triggered Avery’s right now. But now she thought it was gross when he said it, or when he said anything else during sex, or anything at all about sex any other time.
Cum flowed into Avery’s ass. Even though he had already shot his wad once, he shot a huge load again — he must have had a lot built-up in his balls, Avery thought. It dripped out Avery’s ass and onto the motel mattress.
Finally he was done. Avery pulled off him. He had shot his own wad onto the mattress too, and it was now soaked.
Avery wrapped one arm around Officer Heartley’s meaty belly. “We made a big mess, and we’ve still got all night.”
Officer Heartley kissed him chastely on the cheek. “I’ll rent another room, baby. You’re worth it.”
Avery sighed and kissed each of Officer Heartley’s hairy asscheeks. “Let’s make this one filthier first.”

The Smokin’ Sheriff

Rob buys a remote cabin and is visited by the suspicious local sheriff, who demands, expects and receive some ultimate alpha-male service!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob settled back in his new chair. It still felt new, it needed to be broken in, his ass still needed to find its groove in it. But it was fine, and it felt right beneath him. All of his furniture still had that uncomfortably new mystique to it. He felt bad about using it because it all looked so impeccable. It needed some scratches and stains to make this cabin look lived-in.
It was a vacation home out in the woods, in rural North Carolina, in the Appalachian west of the state. Rob had never been here before he bought the cabin, sight unseen. He needed a place to go, to sit and relax, to focus on his novel, and to generally get away from it all. He knew it was a risk, to buy a cabin he’d never seen in a state he’d never been to.
But he was satisfied. The water and power worked, which was the most important thing really — he didn’t want to rough it, he just wanted to relax in the woods. The rest of it could be repaired.
He thought he might fix the cabin up too. He could hire people to expand it, maybe add a second floor. Maybe a garden. He didn’t intend to be here that often, so it’d have to be some easy-to-maintain stuff (he didn’t want to hire a gardener), like maybe some azaleas, that would be nice.
For now though, he just wanted to make it feel like home. He wouldn’t be able to write much as long as it felt like a house he was housesitting for a couple weeks. It needed to feel like a home.
But the chair still felt brand-new. It felt like he was sitting in a showroom chair in a furniture store.
There came a knock at the door. Rob frowned. He didn’t have any neighbors, and he literally knew no one in the area. He’d only been here for a week, after all. Who could be at the door?
He wondered if he was in danger just moments before he opened the front door. Damn it, I should have looked out the window. He didn’t really know how safe this region was. But as far as anyone knew, no one lived here — you had to come into the driveway to even see that his car was here. The cabin had been vacant for years before he bought it.
It’s a cop.
“Oh, uh, hello…” The first thing Rob noticed was that he was a cop. The second thing he noticed was that he was intensely handsome. He wore a brown sheriff’s uniform shirt and brown slacks, which his thick-built body filled out perfectly. He was middle-aged, his face craggy, eyes a bit sunken and dark brown. He wore a wide-brimmed hat but Rob was pretty sure he was balding under that, and he had a jaw-heavy swaggering look to him.
His chest was broad and strapping, the hair visible in how it pressed against his uniform shirt, in the breast pocket of which was one thick cigar. The badge above the cigar gleamed with sunlight that filtered down through the trees above.
“Howdy,” said the sheriff. He tipped his cap to Rob. “I’m Sheriff Torkelson. Reynard Torkelson.” He peered into the house, making a big show of it, like he wanted Rob to notice he was doing it. “Nice cabin.”
“Uh… Thanks. Can I… help you?”
“Is it alright if I come in?” His voice was deep and serious, echoic like his throat was a high-ceilinged vault. This didn’t sound like a friendly call, and Rob was too intimidated to ask why the sheriff wanted to enter. He frowned when Rob didn’t immediately say yes.
Rob knew he should say no. His lawyer friend always said to never invite a cop into your home. But Rob wasn’t being investigated for a crime, right? He didn’t know if that applied right now.
“Sure.” He opened the door for him.
“That’s mighty kind of ya,” Sheriff Torkelson said. He tipped his hat again before entering the house. He didn’t exactly search, but he did look around, peering in every room as he spoke. “We gots a bit of a problem in these parts… girls.”
“Girls? They’re a problem? I-“
“Sorry, not the girls theyselves. We like girls. Girls is right nice indeed,” Sheriff Torkelson said. He opened the door to the bedroom, then looked in the closet, which was empty. He even tapped on a few of the walls and listened to see if there were hollow spaces. “The problem, you see, is that some silly punks think us rednecks don’t mind them usin’ these cabins for they purposes… You feel me? Huh? You pickin’ up what I am puttin’ down?”
After a long pause, Rob said, “No. Not at all. Is something wrong?”
“You a pimp?”
“A pimp? Is that a joke? No, I’m not a pimp,” Rob said.
“Hmm-hmm…. Why’d you buy this cabin?”
“I just wanted a place to relax in, you know… I’m writing a novel, and I want to focus on it.”
“You bought a cabin just to write a novel?”
“I bought a cabin to relax in. The current reason I want to relax is to focus on my novel. But I-“
“What’s ya novel about?”
“A time-traveling orphan who tries to found a modern, democratic society in ancient times, and discovers he accidentally became Romulus and Remus,” Rob said. When the Sheriff looked like he didn’t know what that meant, Rob added, “They’re the mythological founders of Rome. So he discovers that he founded Rome, it was only slightly democratic and only for a couple centuries before it became an empire. So it’s ironic-“
“He became two people?”
“What? Romulus and Remus? That’s two people.”
“Uh, well, yeah, it’s kind of a symbolic thing. He ended up having to make up a cofounder because of politics, he needed someone to offload decisions on. It represents his dual nature, he never intended it to be a founding myth like that. But he came from the Trojan War-“
“Hmmmm…” He peered at Rob. “So you ain’t pimpin’ girls out at this cabin?”
“No! No, officer! No, sir, I mean, sorry, sir. No, sir. No, sheriff.”
“You sure?” He chewed on his lower lip. He got up real close, his rancid breath condensing on Rob’s lips.
“Yes!” Rob said. “I don’t do that! I’m not a pimp! I… I’m from a wealthy family.” He blushed. “Not asking for special treatment, I just… I don’t need money. I wouldn’t pimp out any women, I don’t need the cash and I, you know…” Rob didn’t want to add that he could hire as many high-value escorts as he wanted. “I don’t need women. I’m not even… I don’t even like women. I mean, I don’t — I’m not into sex with women. I’m single.”
The Sheriff glared at him like he didn’t believe him. Rob affected a flamboyant stance with a limp wrist and laughed nervously. The Sheriff forcibly turned Rob around and looked at his ass through his khakis.
“You expect me to believe you come out here to this cabin just to write a goddamn book?”
“I mean… I guess so, yeah, I… It’s not that weird. I own eleven houses, this is just the most remote one,” Rob said. His voice sounded squeaky, his feet frozen to the spot he was in. “I swear, I’m no pimp, I swear. I probably won’t ever have visitors here. I mean, maybe some guys, I like to jerk guys off.” He blushed. “I mean, not like, in a weird way. Just, you know… Sorry, I’m… I like, you know… I don’t hang out with women. Well, sometimes, I have female friends. But not in North Carolina.”
The Sheriff licked his lips again. His eyes roamed up and down Rob’s body. Was he checking him out? Planning on hitting him? Rob had no idea. He couldn’t make eye contact with Sheriff Torkelson’s deep, foreboding eyes.
“Why you so scared if you ain’t doin’ somethin’ you ain’t supposed to? Huh?” He touched Rob on the cheek with one callused finger.
“You’re just… really intimidating,” Rob said with a nervous laugh. Then he added, “And handsome.”
For the first time, Sheriff Torkelson looked confused. He dropped his hand. “What?”
Rob looked down at his feet. “I… I just really want to jerk you off while you smoke that cigar. You can ram me up the ass too.” He laughed hysterically. “Sorry, sorry, I know, you, uh… You got a great body.” Rob was so scared he closed his eyes and sat down on the brand-new couch. “I swear, I couldn’t pimp out any females, I don’t even know how that works — vaginas are weird!Sorry, I-” Rob gasped when he looked up.
Sheriff Torkelson had unzipped his slacks and let a fat cock flop out through the fly. He stood there like he hadn’t noticed his dick was out, as he got out the cigar. He clipped it with a cigar cutter, then he put it in his mouth and began puffing on it even before he lit the cigar with a zippo. “Hmm-hmmm…”
“Oh, uh… You…” Rob wasn’t sure what he should do. He obviously wanted to get on his knees and start worshipping Sheriff Torkelson’s manhood. That was what Rob’s instincts told him to do, and if he was more comfortable with his surroundings, that’s what he would have done. Back at the mansion in California, that’s what he would do.
That massive cock hung so thick and meaty, inviting, a bit glistening with sweat from being cooped up in his uniform slacks. Rob gulped. Could it be a trap? Maybe Sheriff Torkelson would wait for him to do it, then charge him with assaulting an officer or ruining the dignity of a Southerner, something like that.
“So you said before you wasn’t gonna have no visitors?” His cock jiggled. Smoke bloomed from his mouth as he took his first full puff on the now-lit cigar.
The bitter scent of tobacco filled the cabin. It was probably soaking into the upholstery and the curtains. Rob didn’t mind. He would have objected in any other of his houses, but not here, both because Torkelson was too intimidating to object to anything he did and because a rustic cabin like this ought to have a smell to it. Maybe it would seem more like a home. As it is, it only smelled of air freshener and dust. Tobacco might improve it.
“Well, I dunno, I guess, I might, maybe, I hadn’t really planned on not doing it. But I wasn’t going to make any friends around here. I did want to renovate the place.” He paused. “So there’d be, you know, workmen around-“
“See, you could pimp out some girl to ’em. That’d be a handy excuse to bring men over here, to let ’em see ya merchandise.”
“Oh, but, I won’t! I don’t have any girls! I don’t like girls! I never have! They talk too much! And boobs are, uh… I don’t… I’m not into boobs. Tits. Breasts.” All words for mammary tissue felt wrong coming out of Rob’s mouth in this moment.
Sheriff Torkelson rolled his eyes and sighed. Then, like he was speaking to a child, he said, “So what’re you waiting for?” He leaned forward, which made his fat cock jiggle and angle towards Rob.
“Waiting for what?!” Rob squealed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from that long dick, dangling between Torkelson’s legs.
“To jerk me off.”
“I didn’t know you wanted me to!” Rob tried to bite back a sob. A few tears did leak out, but he couldn’t even decide if they were tears of joy and desire or fear and terror (or just plain irritation from the cigar smoke). He gulped. “Oh! You want me to!” Rob looked up and made eye contact with Torkelson for the first time in awhile. Rob had been entranced by his cock ever since he took it out.
His dick was hard already. Rob got close to it and sunk to his knees as though to beg at or worship Sheriff Torkelson. Then he planted his tongue on the tip, only for Torkelson to immediately take it away. He barely got a taste of the musty manhood reeking of cigar smoke, but it was enough to tantalize Rob.
“Whatchoo doin’, boy?!” Sheriff Torkelson barked, and Rob backed away, squealing. “I ain’t say to put nuttin’ in ya mouf!”
“Oh!” Rob scooted away and plopped back onto his ass on the floor. “Sorry, I-! I didn’t — I wasn’t sure what you meant, I don’t…” He went pale as could be.
Sheriff Torkelson guffawed and got closer to Rob again. He swayed his body from left to right, which made his cock sway too like a cobra waiting to pounce. He straddled Rob and flopped his limp dick over his face. “You can put’cha mouf on it. I was just playin’ witcha, boy.”
“Yeah. Okay. Sure. Cool. Okay.” Heart racing, Rob opened his mouth again, eyeing Sheriff Torkelson suspiciously. His tongue again snaked out, and touched his shaft.
This time Sheriff Torkelson leaned into it. He slid more of his limp, ultra-thick cock into Rob’s mouth, and the taste of his powerful manhood flooded Rob’s senses. Rob straightened his back, letting his tongue slather spit onto that shaft, which was so thick he could barely fit it in his mouth. And it wasn’t even hard yet!
Then Torkelson ashed on Rob’s forehead. He took a deep drag and exhaled it onto Rob’s face. The acrid scent of cigar smoke filled the air, making Rob’s eyes water again. He coughed on Torkelson’s dick, which now tasted bitter and gritty from cigar ash.
Amid silence’s reign over the cabin, Torkelson jutted his hips forward, forcing his dick down Rob’s throat. Rob was finally starting to relax enough he could swallow it without feeling abject terror. That cock was magnificent and salty, deliciously savory on Rob’s tongue, and it filled up his throat as though it had been made for it.
It twitched and slowly firmed up in his throat, as Rob concentrated on taking every inch without gagging. Sheriff Torkelson was relentless — not exactly aggressive, he just kept plowing in deeper, seemingly without paying much attention to his dick. He focused on the cigar, taking deep drags off it and blowing it into Rob’s face. Every time Rob gagged, Sheriff Torkelson chuckled dryly. His face aimed, flat and expressionless, down at Rob’s frenzied gagging and open-mouthed gasping.
Obviously, Rob thought, Torkelson liked the feel of his bottom’s mouth and throat clenching when he gagged. Once he realized that was what Sheriff Torkelson wanted, Rob let himself gag over and over, which in turn made Sheriff Torkelson gasp and moan. Spit ran down his cockshaft and soaked into his pubic hair, even wetting his brown uniform slacks.
Then he gripped Rob’s head and held it in place, using one hand on his forehead, the other on his chin, while he puffed on the cigar between his lips. He pumped his waist to jam his dick down Rob’s gullet, and the unwashed musk of his cock assaulted Rob’s senses, bringing tears to Rob’s eyes.
His hairy ballsac slapped against Rob’s chin. “Ah… yes… That’s nice… That’s real nice,” he said.
Rob gasped for air, his hands clasping Sheriff Torkelon’s powerful thighs under his slacks. Rob chased that cock with his mouth as Torkelson teased him by swaying it left and right, forcing Rob to dart his head back and forth after it. His cocktip dribbled both spit and precum onto the floor. Then he allowed Rob to swallow it to the root again.
This time, it must have felt exceptionally good, because Torkelson sucked in his breath and stood on his toes. He pulled out of Rob’s mouth without warning, inserted his lips into Rob’s mouth — not even kissing him, literally pouting his lips directly in — and then blew a fat cloud of smoke.
Rob hoarsely gagged and Sheriff Torkelson rammed his cock back into Rob’s waiting mouth. He sighed like that was scratching an itch he hadn’t been able to reach.
“Damn…” He grunted and ashed again on Rob’s forehead. He smeared the ash over Rob’s face.
Sheriff Torkelson laughed as Rob choked. He pulled out to let Rob take a breath.
When Rob had recovered enough to speak, he said, “Sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say!” Rob didn’t know what he was apologizing for. “Your dick tastes real good-“
“Hmm-hmm…” He let his erect cock ram over Rob’s face as though looking for a hole to put it in. Precum coated Rob’s cheeks.
Rob was breathless and still scared. He grabbed Torkelson’s cock with both hands, only for Torkelson to slap his hands away.
Wrinkling his nose, Torkelson said, “You ready to get it up the ass?”
“Yes. Oh god, yes!” Rob blushed. “Please cornhole me.” He couldn’t get up because Sheriff Torkelson still straddled his chest. Torkelson’s cock rubbed over Rob’s cheeks and chin. He ashed once more on his forehead.
Sheriff Torkelson frowned like he expected Rob to get up and bend over now, even though that would be difficult until Torkelson got out of his way. He raised one eyebrow at Rob, who realized he was supposed to make it happen anyway.
“How do you wanna do it?” Rob asked. He arduously scooted down, making Sheriff Torkelson’s sweaty balls rub over his face. Rob stuck his tongue out and licked a trail all the way between his legs. Once Rob was out from under him, Torkelson finally dropped his pants and his underwear all the way down.
“However you want, you in charge here,” Sheriff Torkelson said. His voice wavered as Rob caressed each cheek and planted his tongue in his hairy crack. Torkelson leaned forward enough to give Rob easy access to his ass.
Rob didn’t typically give rimjobs, but Sheriff Torkelson had nice big plump asscheeks, especially for an older man, and a lot of beautifully funky hair that Rob wanted to suck clean. He dove between those cheeks and noisily, moistly, slathered spit up and down the crack of his ass.
Eventually Rob laid on his back on the edge of the couch. He lifted his feet up. He liked getting rammed in this position by men because it made them uncomfortable — Rob’s cock and balls were plainly visible, right in front of their faces when they looked down. They couldn’t watch their dick slide into his ass without seeing him jack off at the same time, so there was no way to pretend Rob had a vagina.
That didn’t seem to slow down Torkelson at all though.
“Hmmm… Good boy, I like that, I like it,” Sheriff Torkelson said. He had to bend his knees to get his dick low enough to line up with Rob’s ass. He drilled in with a loud sigh, just the tip at first, and he ashed his cigar — this time right on Rob’s chest. “I liked how you licked my ass a bit there. I didn’t even gotta tell you to do that.”
“You’re welcome, sir, I’d like to do that again one day soon,” Rob said with a plaintive moan, as pressure erupted in his ass. He liked to tease his men, and he figured the promise of a rimjob would bring Sheriff Torkelson back.
He sucked in his breath when Sheriff Torkelson’s cock slid deeper into his ass, nicely greased up with his spit. Rob focused on keeping his head still, so the ash on his forehead wouldn’t spill. That helped distract him from the pain of Torkelson’s magnificent cock ripping him open, and it made him relax his ass so Torkelson could plow into him hard.
Unable to stay perfectly still, Rob writhed but kept his head motionless enough. He felt every trickling particle of ash that slipped down his face or into his scalp. There was a scorching sensation each time Sheriff Torkelson ashed, but it wasn’t enough to burn him.
It just distracted him from the overwhelming pressure in his ass, as that thick cock slammed into him. Rob gripped the meaty, furry chest of Sheriff Torkelson’s old-man body, giggling at the sight of his shocked reaction. Torkelson pounded away, holding Rob in place as though he was inexperienced at ramrodding a man who wanted it.
“Damn… Ya booty do feel like a pussy,” Sheriff Torkelson said with a sigh. He pistoned his hips, forcing his cock all the way in. He smiled for the first time since he had come in, a real smile, not a threatening grin. He stuck one finger in Rob’s mouth and rammed it all the way down, as though to test Rob’s gag reflex.
Rob was overcome by a potent desire. He was only vaguely aware of his own hand jacking himself off. That felt like a dim and distant thing, even as he exploded in cum and pleasure wracked his body. His prostate sent wave after wave of liquid bliss coursing through his veins, yet still, Rob’s focus was on that pile of ash on his forehead.
“Shit…” Torkelson sighed and shot his own wad deep into Rob. He smiled at the sight of the neat stack of ash still there. He liked to see Rob writhing on the cock impaling his ass while keeping his head perfectly still.
“Oh god!” Rob couldn’t stop screaming now. It was a good thing this cabin was far from any neighbors. He threw his head back, and at last that ash slid off, as the most potent orgasm of his life hit him hard.
It wracked his body so intensely it hurt, and Rob moaned loudly. Much to his surprise, Sheriff Torkelson leaned down and kissed him on the lips — Sheriff Torkelson was actually just as surprised, he did it entirely out of instinct, because this was the position he usually fucked his wife in. He would never have kissed a man at all, especially right after that man jerked his cock, but when he did it instinctually, he leaned into it and pretended he had wanted to do it all along.
Both men jizzed at the same time, Rob spraying a fat wad over his face, while Torkelson’s cock jetted cumload after cumload deep into Rob’s body. It was hot and creamy, and Rob felt it seeping through his flesh.
Rob fell limp, and Torkelson let his cock slowly slide out, while Torkelson kept his face right in front of Rob. Rob kissed him again, and their tongues interlocked. Torkelson rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away until his dick was dangling limply between his legs. He puffed on his cigar.
“I kissed you there as a reward for takin’ my dick so damn good,” Sheriff Torkelson said. He grunted. “And for not bein’ a pimp. I’m glad to see that.”
“Uh-huh…” Rob felt like going to sleep. He wanted to go break in that new bed. The mattress had seemed so comfortable in the store, and now he couldn’t wait to sleep on it.
He smiled as Rob closed his eyes, curling up on the couch. “You gonna sleep here?”
“I’ll go to bed later…” Rob murmured softly. “You can let yourself out.”
Torkelson was about to do so. But Rob looked so delicate, his trim body surely going to be cold once he got over his post-orgasmic rush. So Torkelson scooped him into his burly arms and carried him into the bedroom. He deposited him gently on the bed.
For just a moment, Torkelson considered getting in bed with him. He was off-duty — he had stopped by on his way home — so he could text his wife that he was working all night at the jail, and then just stay here. He could mess with the out-of-towner all night.
But no, he thought. Torkelson quietly dressed and left, feeling a pang of regret as the door slammed shut. His wife expected him home, and if he took the long way, when he got there, he’d be ready to fuck the hell out of her.

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’!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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.

You gonna scare our white ladies

You, l’il’un, you can sleep it off in the empty cell. No drunken moseys on my streets.

Officer Peanut glowered at Buck, and he said, “I ain’t havin’ you walkin’ round my town wit’ chubbies, Haystack. You gonna scare our white ladies. Stick him, this is Hassle, he a bucket trustee. You know what that is?” He ain’t wait for an answer from Buck. He glanced down at Cody. “You, l’il’un, you can sleep it off in the empty cell. No drunken moseys on my streets.” He walked away and kept talking. “Nuh-uh, whiteboys, y’all keep it indoors in Goober’s town. Sh’riff Terwiliger don’t like men walkin’ wit’ a stiffness — we got nice wimmin in this town fo’ real, shit…” He prolly tongued on but ain’t nobody could hear him cuz he done gone out the jailhouse into the police station proper. The jailhouse was silentious, ‘cept for the drunken bodies snoring away they bubbles in the front cells.

From Cody the Roughneck

cloistered, equitabilized

Some of ’em right here cloistered in this church be glaring like Gallant at Malcolm’s proud posture.

He wore his city police uniform. He knew lotta brothahs ain’t like it when a colored man becomes a cop — some of ’em right here cloistered in this church be glaring like Gallant at Malcolm’s proud posture — but he ain’t the type to get shook up so easy. The movement needs a voice on the inside, Malcolm thought, and he do what he could to ensure the equitabilized enforcement of the law.

From Malcolm the Burly Black Daddy

Arthur the Hero

Teddy tends bar alongside the bouncer Arthur, who just might have a secret… Unrelatedly, the masked superhero Captain Right has been taking out the trash and cleaning up the city. Teddy’s about to make a discovery that will change everything!

Read it now!

Avery the Detective

Avery’s flower store is next-door to a pawnshop, and when a dead body is found there, it’s gonna be up to Avery to find the culprit! Lucky for him, the trail for the real killer leads him through a bevy of hot and macho studs.

Can he do what it takes to put the guilty man behind bars?!

Can he do what it takes to put the guilty man behind bars?!

Read it now!