Three Generations of Workers

Avery finds himself celebrating Thanksgiving with a family of construction workers, the Dalmans, who one by one let Avery service every inch of their blue-collar meats! Can Avery satisfy the Dalman clan?!

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Read the whole thing here!

Avery came back to his apartment above the garage after his sister and her family left. He was glad to be alone.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and he had spent all day with his sister, her husband and their three daughters. It had been excruciatin. While he loved his nieces very much, he did not love spending more than a few hours with them. They were exhausting, annoying, loud and they smelled bad.
He had gotten through one whole day though, and he was done with that until Christmas. At least, he thought, he had managed to avoid going to his brother-in-law’s family’s Thanksgiving celebration. That was where the rest of the family was at today, the day after Thanksgiving. The whole family had gone to Redding to see the grandparents.
That gave Avery a free day. He lived above the garage, so he didn’t live in the house, but he could go there when he needed to. Today he hung out in his underwear, eating leftovers and watching the big-screen TV his brother-in-law had recently bought.
About three o’clock, however, there was a knock on the door.
“Hey, man, we’re having a Thanksgiving dinner next door,” said the man in the doorway. He was Junior Dalman, and he was so well-built he filled the doorway like a Greek god. Junior was middle-aged and burly, the co-owner of a construction company his father had founded. He had a few tinges of gray in his beard, and his hairy chest was visible through his shirt. He kept his hair cut very short, like a military crew-cut, though he was never in the military.
Avery explained that the family was gone. As it turned out, the Dalmans were doing something similar but in reverse: They had all spent Thanksgiving scattered among various girlfriends, in-laws and others, and now the Dalman men were having their own Thanksgiving the day after.
“But, uh, we was supposed to have my ex and her sister and daughters, but they ain’t show up,” Junior said. He scowled a little but didn’t explain why. “So we gonna have lots of extra food fo’ sure.”
The only reason Avery agreed is that Junior was handsome, as was Junior’s son, PJ, a college lacrosse star who also did construction work on the side. Avery didn’t really want to go anywhere or do anything today, but he did want to look at the Dalmans.
PJ had shaggy blond hair, which he obviously cut himself, all uneven and ratty, a bit greasy but only in a good way. Avery shook his hand, hoping he didn’t look like he had a crush (which he did). PJ’s arm muscles flexed as he shook up and down. Avery smiled and patted PJ on the bicep at the same time, holding back a gasp and moan of desire. His bicep was firm and rock-like.
“Hey, man, are you putting money on the game? My money’s on the Raiders,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t really watch football,” Avery said. He smiled. “But, uh, I guess if everyone else is, I could put a few bucks on the Raiders. That way I can root with you.” Avery blushed again — he thought that made him sound like a PJ fanboy, which he was.
Much to Avery’s surprise, there was only one other person there — Percy Dalman, PJ’s grandfather and Junior’s father. Much to Avery’s even greater surprise, Percy was handsome as hell. He had gray hair, but it was long and shaggy like his grandson, and he was built like a powerhouse despite his age. He was crackly and windswept, and he dressed in baggy shorts and a hip hop tee shirt that looked ridiculous on a man his age.
After eating some fruit — a fruit platter had been purchased for the womenfolk, none of whom showed up, so Avery was as feminine as was going to be there all day, and it was up to Avery to eat the fruit — Avery sat down next to PJ.
The football game was on, but Avery paid little attention. He cheered when PJ did. Avery paid most of his attention to PJ, who shifted and wiggled on the love-seat they shared. PJ was more than a hundred pounds heavier — solid muscle — than Avery and took up much more space. Avery didn’t mind, and he even found himself sitting there with his arm on the back of the couch, tantalizingly close to hugging PJ’s muscled back.
“He’s gonna keep throwing, I can tell,” Percy said with a sneer as the second quarter was about to begin. “Fuckin’ punk, needs to run. They got runners.”
“Nah, Pops, running is for pussies,” PJ said with a laugh. “Man, they should always throw-“
“Shut the fuck up, son,” Junior said.
“Passing sucks!”
“Them’s the Raiders, son! You best believe they know what they’re doing,” Pops said. “There’s history in that franchise-“
“Pops, shut up!” PJ moaned and covered his face.
“Hey PJ,” Avery said. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks they run the next play and get a first down.” His gently lilting voice drove the conversation to a halt.
PJ paused, then said, “Fine, bro.”
“He ain’t got fifty cents, man,” Junior said.
“I do so!” PJ said, his voice defensive enough that Avery realized PJ indeed had little money. He might have been telling the truth about having fifty cents, but he wouldn’t be able to pay the bet. That was okay with Avery, who thought he might get something out of today after all.
Finally the game resumed, and Avery watched with baited breath — he actually enjoyed lacrosse for once — as the play began.
The quarterback handed the ball to a runner. Avery cheered, as did Junior and Percy. Only PJ groaned as the player sprinted up the field, easily getting a first down. PJ leaned back and closed his eyes.
“What a fucking idiot, who runs?!”
“It’s an important part of the game, jackass. You know until the 50s, it was almost all running? Throwing the ball wasn’t allowed most of the time until the NFL changed the rules,” Percy said.
“Well, they knew what they were doing. They got the down.”
“You best pay up your fifty dollars,” Junior said with a sneer.
PJ blushed. “Well, yeah. I, uh… I might have to owe you on that one.”
Avery smiled. He patted PJ on the thigh. “Don’t worry about it-“
PJ shook his head. “I always pay my debts-“
“You mean you get me to pay your debts,” Junior said with an angry snarl.
“I always pay my debts, man, I don’t want any charity.”
“Except for student loans and your mom paying your tuition and your coach giving you free tutoring and your free health care courtesy of the Democrats-“
“Shut up, Dad,” PJ said. He glared at his father and grandfather, who continued to make faces at each other and laugh.
But Avery just patted PJ on the shoulder and said, “Well, I would gladly forgive the debt if you do something for me. I could use a pair of big strong arms for something. Come on next door, I’ll show you.”
He nodded. He seemed glad to be away from his dad and grandfather, who still snickered and listed all of the charity that PJ received. Avery wished he could walk behind PJ, so he could watch his gigantic lacrosse-toned ass sway. PJ filled out his jersey and workout shorts well. But PJ was following Avery, since Avery was the one who knew where they were going.
He led PJ over to the garage where he lived, and brought him up to his apartment. Then Avery closed the door and grinned at PJ.
“So whatcha need, man?”
“Well, I thought, instead of paying me fifty dollars,” Avery said. “You let me drop to my knees like this.” He did so. PJ’s eyes opened wide. Avery licked his lips. “And close your eyes. You can just do what comes naturally.”
“Oh.” PJ blushed until his cheeks were bright red. “I mean…”
“I won’t tell anyone, not even your dad. And I’ll swallow your cum,” Avery said. He inserted a finger into his mouth and sucked on it.
“Okay,” PJ said. He blurted it out like he needed to say it before he changed his mind. Then he grunted and mewled a bit, like he had then changed his mind but didn’t want to say it. He nodded again. “Damn, I need a nut, bro.”
Avery hurried to pop his cock out. PJ had worn his old workout shorts today because he wasn’t leaving the house, and thought he might play a little touch-football with his dad later. He rarely washed these shorts, so they were funky and sweaty and exactly how Avery liked them. He wore a brand-new jockstrap too, clean and cottony and smelling just enough of balls for Avery.
Avery planted his tongue right on PJ’s cocktip, making him gasp. His dick twitched. Avery swallowed it deeply, until his nose teased PJ’s pubic hair.
“Damn, bro… You can’t tell anyone about this, man, especially not my dad. Or my granddad!”
His dick stiffened up, and PJ gasped. He didn’t think this would happen so quickly. Now he got more and more worried his father would find out. Would it be obvious he had just gotten his nut off when he got back to the house?
It felt so good it was almost painful, and it was definitely awkward. PJ knew how to act around women, but he just flailed and grunted and shook as he raced straight to an orgasm in Avery’s mouth. Pleasure shuddered up his muscles, and his knees went weak.
“Ah, shit, man!” PJ gripped Avery’s head and held on, jutting his hips forward to ram his cock all the way down his throat.
Creamy hot cum filled Avery’s belly and coated his throat. It was salty and sweet and delicious, and Avery moaned, craving more. A long flow of it coated his gullet. Avery slurped down every drop, as his hands massaged the meaty thighs of PJ’s body.
PJ was young and virile, so he shot a huge load, giving Avery plenty of thick cum that seeped into his belly. Avery moaned and kept licking until PJ couldn’t take it anymore and took his dick away.
“Damn, bro, you really got enthusiasm for dick,” PJ said, blushing, wide-eyed. None of his girlfriends had ever really liked sucking cock — he wouldn’t have thought that was true a few minutes ago, but now that he got it from Avery, he knew his girlfriends were never enthusiastic like Avery was right now. He thwacked his limp dick over Avery’s face (which no girl ever let him do).
Then it was all done. PJ was glad. He took a deep breath. His face was ruddy and sweaty. His dick dangled, shorts still around his ankles. He was too exhausted to do much, so Avery pulled his jockstrap and shorts up for him. PJ gasped and giggled a little, nervously, when Avery touched his sensitive cock and balls.
“Tell them you helped me put together a bookshelf,” Avery said, pointing to the bookshelf he had just put together yesterday (he had needed to get his brother-in-law to hold some stuff in place while he screwed it together). “It was heavy enough you’re a little red-faced and out-of-breath.”
“Are you gonna tell them…? They’ll call me a pussy if they find out.”
“No. It’s our secret,” Avery said. “I promise.”
PJ nodded, still too embarrassed to really say much. Finally on the way back to the house, PJ said, “I can’t believe you just jacked me off like that, bro. That was so weird.”
Avery laughed. “Yeah.”
When they got back in the house, PJ’s heart thumped, certain his father or grandfather would guess what had happened.
The game had resumed, however, and they barely even acknowledged that PJ was gone. They never asked what he had done. PJ breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down and resumed cheering on the Raiders.
This time, PJ sat on the chair, instead of the loveseat. Avery sat by himself, wondering if he could sit in the center of the couch instead — he’d be crammed in between Junior and Percy, probably close enough to them he could feel their armhair and smell their chests. It was enough to make his mouth water.
When his cell phone rang, Junior stood up. He had a serious frown on his face. “Damn it, it’s Charlie, if he calls out tomorrow, I will rip his goddamn head off.”
He walked away, into the kitchen. Just a few moments later, the sound of Junior angrily hissing into the phone could be heard. The other two ignored it, but Avery found it increasingly awkward, especially when Junior’s voice got loud enough that his words were audible.
“No, fuck you, you drunk bastard! ‘I wanna get real drunk tonight’ is not a good reason to call out sick-” Junior fumed. “Then don’t get that drunk, Charlie! It’s not responsible to plan on getting so drunk you can’t drive the next morning — oh, then tell the state police, they’ll give you a plaque! Maybe they’ll give you a job too, a job where ‘a strong desire to get drunk’ is an acceptable excuse to call out from work! Then don’t bother sobering up for Monday!” He threw his cell phone against the wall, then cursed himself and put the battery back in the compartment.
Avery got up. The game was in an exciting moment (or so Avery assumed since PJ and Percy were deeply engrossed; every moment of football was equally boring to Avery) and the others didn’t really notice him go into the kitchen. Junior paced there, square jaw working as he chewed on his lower lip. He rubbed his stubbled face and nodded at Avery.
“Sorry, man, I got this worker…”
“You seem frustrated,” Avery said.
He sighed. “Yeah. It ain’t even… I really wish my ex had shown up. We’ve been gettin’ along. I thought maybe…”
“You thought maybe she’d treat you right?”
“Nothing’s going right right now,” he said. “If I don’t get the concrete poured for that school tomorrow, it won’t be ready in time for next week.”
“You poor baby… You should relax though,” Avery said. “Stressing out won’t solve anything.” Junior grunted. He still mostly ignored Avery, standing there flipping through his phone as though additional workers might have inserted themselves in there. Avery grabbed Junior’s cock through his dingy work khakis.
Junior looked up and his eyes opened wide. “What’re you…?”
Avery frowned. “I hate seeing people stressed on holidays,” he said. “And I bet you were hoping that ex-wife of yours would give up the booty.” Avery turned around and raised his ass, aiming it towards Junior’s crotch. “But maybe I can take her place?”
“Shit…”
Junior glanced back at the living room. He grabbed Avery’s hips and dragged him to the other side of the kitchen, where they were blocked by the center island. No one could see Avery without being right there next to Junior.
Avery dropped his jeans and rammed his ass back towards Junior’s crotch. His dick was still soft, but it twitched through the fabric of his khakis when Avery’s ass touched it.
“Shit…” Junior said again. He sighed like he didn’t want to do this, like it was a big imposition. He even glanced towards the living room and considered saying no. But his cock was hard, and he wasn’t about to turn down some booty. Nobody, he thought, would know. He unzipped his khakis and let a thick, veiny cock flop out. It was big like PJ’s but less smooth and more tan. Avery didn’t mind that at all.
He rubbed his ass over the shaft of Junior’s limp cock, while Junior looked away, seemingly pretending this wasn’t happening. He closed his eyes as his cock firmed up.
“Hmm, stick it in me,” Avery said. He lined his ass up with Junior’s cock and pushed back.
As soon as he got started, Junior found his hands moving on instinct. He grabbed Avery’s ass and held on. It twitched and trembled until it turned rock-hard, throbbing against the surface of Avery’s asshole with every pulse of Junior’s heart.
“Open up, boy,” Junior said with a grunt. He drilled his dick in.
He had a nice big cock, enough that Avery had to struggle to bring it all in. He pushed when he felt resistance, and Avery had to focus on not crying out. He whimpered as Junior slammed into him.
Finally he was all the way in. His cock throbbed as Avery adjusted. It took all of Avery’s focus to just take a breath.
“Here I go, boy, take that dick,” Junior murmured. “Say yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.”
Avery struggled to speak softly. “Yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.”
Junior grunted right into Avery’s ear as he orgasmed. His knees buckled, and he went to the ground with Avery, wrapping his powerful arms around Avery’s body and holding him right. The pressure and pain in his ass were intense, but Avery loved every moment of it.
Cum filled him up, great creamy gobs of it that spread to every corner of Avery’s insides. It flowed over his prostate and dripped out onto the floor of Junior’s kitchen. Avery moaned, which would have made a loud sound but his pleasure was so intense it ended up being a breathless, voiceless moan.
“Shit,” Junior said, his cock limpening now. He stayed on top of Avery though, squirming and grinding his dick in deeper. That caused his cumload to turn into a big frothy mess that made a puddle on the floor. It felt so good Avery couldn’t breathe.
Finally Junior pulled out. He stood. He wrinkled his nose. “How was that, boy?”
“Hmmm…” Avery moaned. His whole body shook as the aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body.
“Clean up that mess you made,” Junior said. He tossed a roll of paper towels to Avery, whose knees were weak and wobbly as he bent over to do as he was told. Junior watched him until he was done, then made him take the cummy paper towels out to the trash can in the driveway. “Don’t you dare tell no one. My pops would blow a lid, and my son would tease me forever.”
“Sure. It’s my secret,” Avery said before following him back out into the living room.
He hadn’t been in there very long before it erupted in cheers. The Raiders had scored. PJ and Percy whooped and hollered so loud it rattled the picture-frames on the wall. PJ took his shirt off and pounded on his chest. Avery just grinned and watched the sweat roll between his pecs and his shoulder blades.
A few minutes later was precisely five o’clock. Percy’s phone beeped. He took it out and peered at the screen, taking several minutes to determine how to turn the beeping off. “Damn piece of shit,” he said when it was finally off. “I gotta do some FaceCall. You got FaceCall on your computer?”
Junior looked at his dad like he was crazy. “Yeah. FaceCall? Dad, that’s a computer thing.”
“I know, moron, why do you think I asked about your computer?”
PJ said, “You hate computers, Grampa. You-“
“I know what I hate, boy!” Percy said. His wrinkled face frowned. “I need to do a FaceCall!”
“I can do that, Percy,” Avery said. “My computer’s all set up for it.”
“Yeah, do his FaceCall,” Junior said. The game was back on, and he turned back to watch it.
“Okay, fine. Yeah. I’ll do a FaceCall on yours.”
“You don’t ‘do a FaceCall’, Pops, you just FaceCall with someone,” PJ said with a snicker.
But Percy ignored him and followed Avery back out to his home. This time they didn’t go to the apartment above the garage. Avery let him into the main house where there was a big high-res computer screen to use. He showed Percy how to connect to the person he was meeting up with.
Percy was gruff and mean, that was just his personality. Avery didn’t expect friendliness or charm, nor did he even want it. Percy had a handsome look, and Avery loved muscular men with gray hair like that. Percy looked like an old-fashioned painting of Zeus, with a redneck flair.
It was a woman. On the FaceCall. She was pretty in her own late-fifties way, with long hair that Avery was certain was a wig. She was demure and quiet, in stark contrast to Percy’s gruffness.
“How you doin’, baby? How was the family? Ya grandson still an ungrateful prick? Uh-huh.”
Avery backed away to give them privacy. He had to suppress a giggle because Percy was like a mean dog who turned submissive around a child. He smiled and laughed and told the woman compliments. He offered to beat up her ungrateful grandson. He ended by telling her he loved her — he used hushed tones and made sure Avery wasn’t looking that way before he said it.
Finally the FaceCall was done. Percy cursed at it for a minute before Avery came over to turn it off for him. Then Percy stood and glared at him.
“I’s expectin’ you’ll want a little lovin’ now, huh, boy?”
Avery blushed. “Well…”
“C’mon. In the bathroom.” He went to the tiny half-bath attached to the kitchen.
“We got the whole house,” Avery said. “No one’s here. We don’t have to go into the bathroom-“
“You think I do this shit anywhere else? You makin’ me do somethin’ nasty, we gonna do it in a nasty place,” he said. He grabbed Avery by the arm. Avery bumped into him and discovered he had a firm hardon.
“I’m not making you do it-“
“Shut the fuck up, I gotta pay you for doing that FaceCall, right?”
“Well, it wasn’t my computer, it’s my brother-in-law’s, but he doesn’t pay per FaceCall or anything. It doesn’t cost him any money-“
“Shut the fuck up, I know you want it. You’re begging me for it,” he said with a snarl. He shoved Avery into the bathroom. “I only do it in males one way, just so you know. I’ll slam you jail-style. You’ll like it, they always do.”
Avery giggled. It was obvious Percy wanted this real bad but didn’t want to say that. So Avery played hard to get. “I don’t know…” he said with a feminine lilt to his voice.
“Shut up, I know you just playin’. Swishy sweets like you wanna get they ass plowed. It’s what they do,” Percy said. “And I seen you checking out my grandson. Don’t go attemptin’ after him.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“He wouldn’t anyway, young’uns is prudish these days. Now I won’t do nothin’ tricksy, so don’t even try that,” Percy said. “I am strictly on top, boy. Don’t you even think ‘bout making me touch your dick.”
“Of course not,” Avery said. He was about to drop to his knees when Percy grabbed his chin and lifted his head an inch or so. Then he planted his lips on Avery’s.
Avery was so shocked he didn’t react at first. He thought he must have misunderstood something. Then he kissed Percy back, but when their tongues interlocked, Percy pushed him away.
In seconds, Avery was on his knees on all fours, his pants around his ankles. Percy let out a bestial growl as he took his own cock out. He was uncut and meaty, bigger than the other two, rougher and cruder too, like a caveman’s cock, full of veins and even a scar running along the top.
Percy kissed him again from behind, his lips running up and down Avery’s face and neck. Avery moaned. His asshole twitched as Percy’s cock rubbed against it.
Then Percy drilled his dick in, just the tip at first. Percy noticed a fluid in there, which he would have realized was his son’s cum if he had stopped to think about it, but he just assumed it was lube and it didn’t occur to him that Avery hadn’t used any lube. He grunted and Avery bit his lip. “C’mon, boy, lemme in. Beg me for it. Say you want it. Say you need it.”
“I need you inside me, stick it in me, Percy. Fill my ass!” Avery cried out.
He was shocked again, moments later, when Percy reached around Avery’s body and grabbed his cock. To Percy, this was the proper way to do a man’s ass — Avery had assumed “jail-style” meant rough and violent, which it did, to a certain degree. But when Percy was in jail, he had gradually lost most of his inhibitions; he and his fellow rednecks formed a gang with a few men to use as toys, but they had only agreed to it if Percy and the others treated them like girlfriends. So Percy had come to love giving a reacharound so he could feel his bottom orgasming. He didn’t care about stroking a man off, that didn’t even feel weird to him. He was on top, after all, so that didn’t feel good, it just made his bottom orgasm and Percy loved that,
“Gonna get deep inside ya, boy, don’t fight it, just open up and let it happen…”
Avery could do little more than writhe and beg for more. Percy pounded his ass, kissed his cheek, held his neck with one muscled arm and weighed down his back, so Avery was pinned. His arms gripped the wall of the bathroom as he struggled to take every inch of Percy’s manhood.
“Shit, boy, take it!” Percy spat vituperously into Avery’s ear.
Avery opened his ass as much as he could, letting Percy pound away. His cock was better than the others in the family. Avery wondered if it had always been that way, or if Percy had grown better over time. Maybe the other two would be just as good once they got to Percy’s age.
When Avery orgasmed, he shot his wad all over Percy’s hand, and his asshole clenched. That was what Percy was waiting for. He had always interpreted that as love when his jail-cell wife did it. He loved the feel of bringing a bottom to orgasm through ramming into his ass with all his might. It made Percy feel so powerful his muscles all flexed and he could forget about all the kissing and jacking off he’d been doing.
“Goddamn… you got nice ass…” Percy said, throwing his head back and crying out. Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass.
Percy kissed him again on the lips, continuing to stroke his limpening dick as he shot the most massive wad of the day into Avery’s body. He kept going, making a huge mess just like his son had, turning his wad into a cummy froth that coated Percy’s low-hanging balls.
Finally he was done, and he pulled out. Unlike his son, Percy didn’t make Avery clean up. Under prison rules, clean-up was the top’s responsibility. “Stay there, boy,” he said. He found some napkins and wiped up Avery’s ass, and the mess on the floor. “Good. Did you like that, boy?”
“Yes! Oh god, yes,” Avery said. He stood up on weakened knees. “Can I have another kiss?”
Percy frowned and furrowed his brow. “No. It’s nasty to kiss a man. I kissed ya before on account of my dick was in ya guts, boy. Ain’t nothin’ nasty ‘bout demolishin’ some butt.” He chuckled. “Don’t you try and kiss me, I’ll kick your ass.”
Avery blushed. “Okay, fine.” He giggled. “I think it’s about time for dinner.”
“Reckon so,” Percy said. He took a deep breath. “You best not tell no one. My boy and grandson, they don’t know ‘bout this shit. They’re squeamish as hell.”
Avery smiled. “Yeah, sure.” They headed towards the house next-door. “I’m glad I got to celebrate Thanksgiving over here,” Avery said. “I have a lot to be thankful for.”

The Debtor

Alfonso is late on his payments, but he can’t let the tow-truck driver take his car away… That means he’ll have to do whatever it takes to keep his car!

Is he gonna hafta bend over and take it from the generous booty bandit who makes an offer?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Alfonso scratched his balls as he went into the bathroom to shower. He had to step over stacks of dirty clothes. He yawned. His breath was hot and harsh, so he brushed his teeth right away. He didn’t like eating breakfast with bad breath.
There was a truck idling outside. That wasn’t so strange, since Alfonso lived above a bodega. They probably had a delivery. He had barely finished brushing his teeth when he realized it was a tow truck.
A tow truck picking up a car. A little blue Mazda.
Alfonso drove a little blue Mazda.
The tow truck was taking Alfonso’s car!
He darted outside, unaware that his dick dangled out the fly of his boxers. “Yo! Esé!” He ran to the parking lot, shivering in the chilly early-morning air.
He tore down the stairs of his building, screaming for the tow truck to stop. All the things he needed the car for ran through his mind — he needed to get to work, to drive to his girlfriend’s apartment, to drive his girlfriend places, to find other girls to fuck on the sly, to go to Tyrell’s to buy pills and just generally to not look like a poor slob who couldn’t afford a car.
So he couldn’t let them take it. By the time he made it out to the parking lot, he had become dimly aware of the fact that he was in his boxers. He tucked his cock back into the fly.
“Hey! What’re you doin’, esé?”
“Hello, Mr. Cornejo? We’re from Deltoro Towing and we’re here to-“
“Lay off my car, man! C’mon, what’choo doin’?”
The tough fat-bodied biker with thinning hair in a ponytail and a pig-like face glared at him. He was flanked by two more big men who crossed their arms over their chest. Behind them, the tow truck pulled the car up its ramp and onto the back of the truck.
“Ya gotta pay ya bill, hoss,” said the fat tow-truck driver, who grinned like an ape. “Car’s gettin’ repossessed!”
“Don’t be a fuckin’ deadbeat.”
“Ain’t ya car no more!”
“Nah! No way, esé! Put that car back! Hey!” Alfonso ran around them, heart pounding, unsure what he was going to do but desperate to do something. He thought maybe he could run up onto the back of the truck, get in the car and drive it away before anybody could react.
But he tottered a little as he got up onto the truck, which gave the repo men enough time to get close to him, and Alfonso realized he didn’t have his keys — all he wore was his boxers, which wasn’t even concealing his dick right now. He didn’t have his keys or his driver’s license or a shirt.
“Get down from there, man, don’t make us call the cops,” said the fat biker, who grunted and held one hand on his belly.
“Man, fuck you! I need that car! C’mon!” Alfonso tried to undo the straps keeping the car in place.
The guy operating the truck’s lift stopped it while Alfonso was climbing around up there, so the car was almost entirely on but the rear of it still angled down to the ground on the ramp. Alfonso felt strong hands on his feet as he reached for the straps. The men tried to pull him back to the ground.
“C’mon, holmes, get off the car! We ain’t playin’ wit’cha!”
They dragged him off the tow truck, Alfonso screaming a litany of threats and insults in both English and Spanish. He shoved the fat man away from him, and someone else rammed him into the tow truck. Alfonso grunted and was struck with dizziness. He stayed right there just long enough for the car to be brought the rest of the way onto the tow truck.
“C’mon, esé, c’mon, ya gotta give me some more time,” Alfonso said. His heart raced. He didn’t like begging, especially not in front of a bunch of gringo rednecks, but he didn’t have a choice. “You don’t understand, I gotta have that car-“
One of the bikers, a dusky-skinned fellow with a neck tattoo of Gothic lettering, stepped forward and grinned. He casually slapped Alfonso on the cheek a couple times, not in a violent way, more like a chummy friend. He chuckled. “Then, esé, you should’a paid ya bills,”
“Man, come on…”
Alfonso kneeled and buried his face in his hands. Obviously this wasn’t going to work. He knew it looked like he was crying — which he wasn’t — but he needed to concentrate to come up with a plan. He heard the tow-truck guys snickering amongst each other, and Alfonso had to fight against the urge to go punch them.
His muscles flexed because he wanted to start a fight, like his body was already working itself up for combat even as his mind told himself no. This was how he lost his temper. Back in school, that happened all the time, and he kept getting in trouble. Being an independent adult living on his own had mostly cured him of his temper problems. It was just on certain occasions like these he found it difficult once again to control his anger.
There were people looking at him. Alfonso hated being humiliated like this. His blood ran hot and cold, his toes curling. He felt like his head would explode. He wanted to shout at all these people to get back in their houses, that this was none of their business, that they should fuck off or he would kick their asses.
But it was important to be focused on what mattered — Alfonso was going to need rides into work. He needed to save enough money to catch up on his payments. He was going to need to do some extra work somehow to make more cash.
Would he have to do something illegal? Alfonso hoped not. Tyrell would definitely hire him to sling pills, but that was not a viable way to make money, not really. He’d be lucky to make ten bucks a day doing that.
Of course there were other drugs he could sell. The only dealer he knew was Tyrell, and the only drug Tyrell dealt was lorazepam. But Alfonso had connections. His friend Enrique knew a coke dealer. Some of the guys at his job did steroids.
Could he really sell hard drugs? Alfonso didn’t want to do anything illegal. But he couldn’t think of any legal way to make a lot of money in a hurry. He was going to need a couple thousand dollars to get his car back, and if he didn’t do it in thirty days, the car would be auctioned off. If that happened — and this was the part that made him furious — Alfonso would still owe all that money. He’d be out of the car, but he’d still have to make payments on it until it was paid off, and he’d owe money to the tow company as well.
There was one person watching whom Alfonso could sense was still there, even as the others left. His eyes drilled into Alfonso’s skull, making him intensely aware of the man’s existence. Alfonso lifted his head out of his hands. Sure enough, he was still there.
He had caught Alfonso’s eye before, during the argument with the tow-truck guys, because he was probably not from this neighborhood — he wasn’t Latino, and this area was almost all Peruvians. The stranger stood out on the street, near the bus stop — though he faced the wrong way to meet the bus.
He watched Alfonso. The stranger was mid-thirties, black, tall, wearing a plain brown shirt and pants. He looked like a businessman on casual Friday (though it was Thursday), Alfonso thought, complete with a thick mustache and a no-nonsense glare to his deep, brown eyes. The black man had a solid, glaciery way of carrying himself, like nothing mattered but what he was doing, which was nothing, and therefore, nothing mattered.
Alfonso stood, looking in his direction nonchalantly so he didn’t attract attention. The strange black man approached him then.
“Hey. Alfonso? Alfonso Cornejo?”
Alfonso nodded and narrowed his eyes to slits. He was still hostile and upset, so without thinking about it, he glared menacingly at the stranger. He flexed his ropy-muscled, tattooed chest. He wished his cock had flopped back out the fly of his boxers again because it was big.
“I need some help with a job,” the black man said. “If you come with me and work for the day, I’ll make your car payments. I’ll get you all caught up. You’ll be able to get your car out of the impound lot. Today, son.”
“Really?”
The man nodded. Alfonso hesitated. He assumed this job, whatever it was, was unpleasant. He wouldn’t be offering that much money to someone desperate if it wasn’t bad. But Alfonso had done some terrible jobs before, scrubbing toilets, getting up at five o’clock every morning, working outside in the freezing cold all winter.
“What is it?”
“Can’t tell you now. Come get in my truck,” He gestured to a large black truck parked out on the street. It looked like a work truck but it didn’t have any markings on it. “My name’s Nelson.”
“Uh-huh.” Alfonso decided to say yes, but he had difficulty bringing himself to actually say that. Aside from being fearful at what the job was, Alfonso was embarrassed to agree like this. No one but some desperate loser and punk would ever agree to a job he knew nothing about from a stranger he didn’t know. Was he really going to get in a truck with some strange man?
If he was a gringo, Alfonso might have said no. But he thought he could handle a middle-aged black weirdo. Nelson checked him out, looking him up and down. Alfonso preferred to assume that Nelson was simply checking out how strong he was, to be sure he could do the job. Alfonso made a bicep and Nelson squeezed it. Alfonso hoped this job was something difficult and arduous but simple, like building a deck (but nobody would hire just one person for that). Nelson grunted like that was satisfactory but didn’t move.
“Well? Come on, if you’re coming on. I got work clothes for you,” Nelson said. He didn’t wait for Alfonso, he just turned around and went towards the street.
Alfonso followed him to the truck. He sighed. It’s just a job, he reminded himself. “What is it? Where you gonna take me? What kinda work clothes you got? Do I need my ID? I ain’t got my wallet.”
Nelson got behind the wheel. Alfonso wanted to refuse to go anywhere until he got some answers. But the prospect of making enough to get his car back today was enticing. He desperately wanted that. He could spend today doing whatever this was and then not have to worry about it anymore. That was preferable to spending the next month hustling up enough money to rescue his car from the impound lot. No matter what the job is, he thought, he could do it for a day.
He got in the passenger seat. Nelson drove off, with the radio off too, which was disconcerting to Alfonso, who never drove in a quiet vehicle. He could hear every rumble of the truck’s engine. He heard Nelson’s heavy breathing, which sounded almost sexual. Alfonso shuddered but hid his discomfort.
This was all happening so fast, he thought. He’d only been out of bed for a half-hour or so. “What kinda work you got for me?” he asked when the silence had become unbearable.
“Hmmm…” Nelson turned to grin at him as he pulled to a stop at a red light. It was still early in the morning so there were few cars on the road. “It ain’t exactly work. I thought we could play a bit.” He paused, then placed one of his big meaty hands on Alfonso’s flat belly.
Alfonso’s six-pack rippled as Alfonso groaned and leaned his head back. He shut his eyes.
“You don’t wanna do it?” Nelson asked.
Alfonso didn’t say anything. He shut his eyes more tightly. “I ain’t, y’know, I ain’t some punk or nothin’. But, y’know…-“
“Nobody said nothin’ ‘ccusatory. I just wanna get my nut off, and I don’t wanna muck about with some female. You just know she gonna talk my ear off, right? Prolly make me take her out to dinner at some fancy restaurant. Who got time for that, huh?” His hand roamed up and down Alfonso’s body.
“Man…”
“You wanna go back home? I take you back now if’n you want,” Nelson said. “And I’ll even give you five bucks to pay you for these couple minutes wit’ me so far.” He handed over a five-dollar bill.
Alfonso took it. “I mean… I ain’t touchin’ yo’ dick, you know that, right? I ain’t into… I mean, as long as it’s me gettin’ my dick wet, you know. It ain’t wrong to get jacked off by some pasivo. Ya feel me?”
“I do. I feel you very well,” Nelson said. He chortled as his hand slipped down to Alfonso’s crotch. He pulled his long, uncut cock out through the fly of his boxers.
Alfonso sucked in his breath, and he wrinkled his nose at Nelson’s callused hand stroking his dick. He wished Nelson was a young man. Instead, it felt like getting pawed over by a grandpa.
“You okay?”
Alfonso scoffed like that was a stupid question. “I can handle some… man strokin’ my dick,” he said. He had to cut himself off to avoid calling Nelson something rude. He closed his eyes again.
“You ever done this before?” Nelson asked. He was driving again, on the highway now. He kept one hand on the steering wheel while his other hand lazily stroked Alfonso’s half-hard dick.
“Yeah. I’m from Peru, we always get our dick wet, esé. So yeah, I get li’l punks to jack me off all the time.” Alfonso didn’t further explain that he’d only ever let them do it when he was very drunk. He was much less comfortable in this situation, in the truck of a large, older stranger who wasn’t part of Alfonso’s culture or neighborhood.
“Uh-huh.” Then he got off the highway. Nelson had to use both hands for that, and when he was on a side street, he drove quickly into the used-car dealership where Alfonso had purchased the car. There were two lots nearby, one wide open (full of cars available for sale), and the other was behind a fence (full of cars that had been repossessed or were in need of repairs before being placed out for sale). The dealership’s office wouldn’t be open for nearly two hours, but this was where Nelson would have to pay Alfonso’s delinquent bill.
He parked in a rear part of the lot, where it wasn’t obvious if he was parked for the impound lot or for the restaurant supply store next door. They shared a parking lot, but both stores appeared to be closed this early.
“Alright, vato, you lookin’ kinda horny. You horny?”
Nelson put one hand on Alfonso’s stomach, and his other on his dick. He had to awkwardly crane his body to the side to face him. Alfonso still leaned back in his seat, eyes closed. He brought one of his arms to his face to further cover his face.
“Huh? You horny?” Nelson gave Alfonso’s dick a good long stroke, slow as anything.
“Not exactly…” Alfonso grunted. “I can bust a nut anytime though. My chicas always say that. They say my dick get hard too easy, ya feel me?”
“Uh-huh.” Nelson leaned over and popped the tip of Alfonso’s dick into his mouth. Alfonso groaned. His cock was only a bit hard at this point. Alfonso wasn’t even aware of that because he was hyperfocused on his own nervousness. That was good, because if he was aware that he hadn’t gotten hard, he might have become even more anxious and unable to perform.
A long low moan with a baritone rumble to it escaped from Nelson’s mouth. Nelson laughed around the cock in his mouth, which rubbed through the dense bristly hairs of Nelson’s mustache.
Nelson thought it was cute to watch guys struggle to get hard, eyes alternating between scrunching tightly shut and opening wide as they watched it finally happen. That was what happened now. Alfonso peered underneath his arm just in time to see his dick fully stiffen up as Nelson deep-throated him. Alfonso could feel pleasure in his dick, but for now, it seemed distant and dim, like it was happening to someone else and Alfonso had some strange connection to it he couldn’t explain.
But Alfonso found it hard to look away because it felt better with every passing moment, as he became less and less nervous with it. A jolt of pleasure shot up his spine, and he bit his lip.
“Shit, esé…” Alfonso hoped that sounded more confident than it felt in his mind.MenWhen the bracing taste of precum hit Nelson’s tongue, he knew it was time to move on. Alphas getting jacked off by a man had a way of cumming suddenly and without warning — sometimes it took a surprisingly long time, some times it was a surprisingly short time. Nelson theorized that that was because they paid more attention to their own feelings than the physical sensations, and they weren’t used to a purely physical orgasm, so it hit them by surprise.
“You ready to stick me, nigga?” Nelson asked. He kissed Alfonso on the neck and Alfonso gulped.
“I mean… Yeah,” Alfonso said. His voice had a nervous quaver to it, but he tried to hide it — a real man, he thought, should be comfortable with his dick, even if it was downlow.
The cab of the truck was too small to do it easily, but Nelson thought that was one of the charms of messing around in here. He always thought it was more fun to have some limitations of that sort. If he was in a plain old bedroom, for example, he’d have simply bent over and invited Alfonso to plow in.
But that wasn’t an option. Alfonso had to help, to get out of the way so Nelson could take his pants down — which meant his bare black ass jutted up and into Alfonso’s face. Alfonso backed away in horror as though he might accidentally give Nelson a rimjob if he got too close to it.
Nelson chuckled and waved his ass in front of Alfonso’s face, then he lowered his hips so that he was crouched overtop of Alfonso’s crotch. He would have to sit, crammed into Alfonso’s lap.
“Ah, oh… shit, esé, uh… can’t we, like… Yo, can we get in the back?”
“We’ll be seen,” Nelson said. He smirked. “These windows are tinted, nobody can see us up here. Besides, it’s cold out there, and I’ve got the heat on in here.”
“Oh…” Alfonso didn’t really like letting Nelson be on top. It would have been fine if Nelson was slim and feminine. Alfonso could have forcibly put him in a good position (which Alfonso defined as any position in which he didn’t have to see Nelson’s cock, balls, body hair, head hair, mustache or the distinctly masculine shape to his hips). Alfonso would have had plenty of room, and Nelson would have done anything he said.
Instead he could do little more than sit there, arms hovering above his head because he couldn’t put them anywhere else without accidentally touching Nelson’s firm body. Alfonso closed his eyes again as he felt his cock slip into Nelson’s tight asshole.
This time, he couldn’t deny that it felt good. It actually felt almost exactly like a woman’s ass. He would never admit that, but it was true — all that stuff he thought would make it impossible to get hard with Nelson turned out not to matter: he barely noticed the kinky black hairs of Nelson’s ass once he got in there, and with his eyes closed, he didn’t pay any attention to the shape of Nelson’s well-muscled back.
It really did feel good, he thought, but he wanted to hide it. Alfonso grunted like he struggled to stay hard.
But his grunt turned into a gasp. Nelson sunk all the way down on his cock, grinding his hips, rubbing to each side. He leaned over and kissed Alfonso right on the lips. A long low moan came from Nelson’s scratchy throat.
That part Alfonso didn’t mind so much — it was normal in Peruvian culture to kiss one’s bottom.
It still felt weird, however, because Nelson was on top of him, because he moaned into his mouth with a densely masculine, gravel-coated voice and because his scratchy mustache rubbed over Alfonso’s upper lip. It was hard to pretend he was with a woman with Nelson’s tongue in his mouth.
His hands gripped Nelson’s hips. Alfonso now opened his eyes wide. He could feel an orgasm hitting him, and he shouted, the sound resonant in the tiny cab of the truck. He was shocked at his own self for gripping Nelson’s meaty, hairy hips. He would have thought he’d be grossed out by it.
But he found no real reluctance in himself to hold Nelson’s body as he pistoned his hips up. He slammed into Nelson’s ass so hard Nelson grunted and bumped his head on the roof.
“Shit!” Alfonso moaned, hands clawing at Nelson’s back.
“Goddamn, vato!” Nelson shouted with a tense chuckle. He leaned himself back, all the way onto Alfonso’s cock, as he sprayed his own wad onto the dash of his truck. The smell of jizz bloomed in the stuffy cab.
“Hell yeah, man!” Alfonso held Nelson deep on his dick. An orgasm finally exploded within him. He had felt it coming, but then it hit him as a surprise, his mind still focused on his shock at touching Nelson’s body without being nervous or grossed out by it. He was glad that none of his friends were around — they would be impressed if he had ramrodded a male this hard, but they’d tease him forever for plowing a bigger, older man in exchange for money.
But he was also glad he did it. Aside from the financial benefit, it just felt good, Alfonso thought as bliss flowed through his veins and he let out a long, crooning sigh. His hands gripped Nelson’s skin tightly, then loosely, then they both fell to the seat beneath him.
“Shit, esé…”
“Hmm… fill me up, son,” Nelson said with a moan.
Cum flowed into him, great creamy gobs of it that flowed through his body and trickled into every corner of his flesh. It was warm and creamy and inviting, and Nelson wished it could have lasted forever.
But alas, it didn’t. Nelson sighed, remaining deeply ensconced on Alfonso’s ass until every last drop had snuck out. He craned his head back to kiss Alfonso again, first on the lips, then on his cheeks, his mustache rubbing against Alfonso’s early morning scruff.
“Goddamn, son,” Nelson said. He chuckled and gave Alfonso a peck on the lips. “That was good enough you could-a talked me into buyin’ you a new car.”
“Really? I-“
“Nah, nah, nah, no, man, no,” Nelson said. He shook his head, mustache quivering. “Nah, I was just kiddin’, I wouldn’t do that. If I did, it’d just be a new used car that ain’t no better than the one you got. Nah, nah, don’t even try that.”
“Oh.” Alfonso wanted to argue, but it was hard to concentrate with his limp dick still in Nelson’s ass. His orgasm was over, but aftershocks still hit him, making him writhe and grunt beneath Nelson’s heavy body.
When Nelson finally slipped off him, every inch of his dick emptying from him sent a new wave of post-orgasmic pleasure running through his body. He sighed and slapped Nelson’s ass with a cocky chuckle. He thought that would make him feel tough again, but that only lasted a moment before he looked down in time to see his dick plop out, followed by a giant puddle of cum that slopped onto his shaft.
Alfonso gagged at the sight. He hurried to grab the pile of napkins on the dashboard, and he wiped his dick off. “You best pay up, esé.”
“I will,” Nelson said. He sighed and slipped into the driver’s seat. Somebody else was just parking nearby and heading over to the impound lot’s front office. Nelson watched them go. “Looks like we’re just in time. I’ll go pay your bill right now. You wanna stick around? You can drive yourself home…” He chuckled dryly. “Nevermind, I’ll take you home first so you can get ya clothes and ya keys and shit. Then I’ll pay the bill and you can drive your car home.”
“Yeah, cool, esé,” Alfonso said. He cleared his throat as Nelson drove off.
This had gone well enough that Alfonso was beginning to wonder if he could set this up again. Maybe he could make some extra money on the side for a long time to come. Maybe, he thought, this guy could make his car payment every month.
“You okay?”
Alfonso nodded. “You, uh… do this a lot, esé?”
Nelson shrugged. “Now and then.”
“Cuz, uh… I’ll be around next month, and I’ll have another car payment to make…”
Nelson smiled. He patted Alfonso on the back when he got back into the parking lot. “Sorry, vato, I’m movin’ on after this,” he said. “Go’n get ya clothes. Maybe we could play a bit more today. I got some cash burnin’ a hole in my pocket. But when I move on, I’ll be gone.”