The Raunchy Road Crew

Rob is in a grimy coffeeshop when a work-crew comes in. He senses a possibility for alpha male rough trade, but he didn’t know how filthy and forceful it would get!

These men are from a low-skill road-work crew, dirty drunks and ex-cons who’ll do whatever it takes to earn — or steal — a couple dollars, not to mention get a nut off. Rob is all too happy to oblige, as he services a grimy black alcoholic and a rage-filled possible-Nazi redneck, before getting to go up behind a raunchy Mexican crackhead in an ultra-raunchy explosion of man-on-man action!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob waited in the Darling Donuts with his computer open. He was trying to write a very commercial novel about a Japanese girl who solves crimes and believes in herself, and he was trying to work in a panda. The panda might be the murderer. Or that might make its cuteness less salient. Maybe it shouldn’t be a murder, maybe something more light-hearted. The theft of some… magic bamboo?
That’s not a bad idea. He sighed and sipped his coffee.
It was not the kind of story he wanted to write, but he intended for it to be as commercial as possible. No consideration for art. All popularity.
Not many people were coming through the Darling Donuts this morning. The only employee he could see was a bored young white lady. Rob liked this location because the manager was a big burly black man with a broad chest and a booming voice, and sometimes he hung around in the parking lot after he got off in the afternoon, wearing a sleeveless shirt cuz he took off his Darling Donuts polo, and he had huge biceps, like crazy huge, and he worked out in the median strip by the highway sometimes totally shirtless on his lunch break. Rob was a great admirer of the male physique.
Once he let Rob give him a handjob in the parking lot. That was why Rob liked him. He was weirdly Christian though, kinda pushy about it. Oh well, nobody’s perfect. He didn’t seem to be in today anyway. There was no manager on duty as far as Rob could tell.
A corpulent lady came in to buy a diet coke and two dozen donuts, which really made Rob think. He tried to focus on the book again. It all seemed so clear when he was brainstorming last night.
The tinkling of the bell provided a welcome distraction from the tyranny of the blank page. He looked up.
A half-dozen guys sauntered in, wearing yellow reflective vests and filth-encrusted workeans. The van they had parked outside read Jambone Construction. There was a plump redneck with shaggy blond hair, and broad-chested white man with a vaguely Nazi ambience arising from his shaved head. There was a trio of rotund Mexicans. There was a middle-aged black man with wild eyes and a fat belly. The last one was Gambo, a black man with a powerful body and a scruffy beard. He had a long and tall physique — slimfire, as they would say — thick muscles on long limbs and sort of a knuckle-dragging gait.
All of them exuded cold. It was a chilly morning, but they had probably been at work when it was frosty before dawn. They were a road crew, Rob sensed it in the asphalty smell they gave off.
“Yo, Gambo, you best call Mr. Lillen,” said the other black guy, the fat one.
Gambo rolled his eyes and nodded. “Nigga, I need a break.”
“You’re on break,” the fat black guy said with a scoff. He got into line to place his order at the Darling Donuts counter.
“I mean… like a real break, y’know,” Gambo said, though no one listened to him except Rob, who pretended not to see him.
Gambo stalked off into the bathroom, already sneaking sips from his flask. That was what he meant by ‘break’ — he needed a drink. He slipped into the men’s room, flask in hand. Rob watched him go.
When Rob was sure none of the other workers noticed him, Rob slipped his computer into his bag and stood up. He went into the bathroom after Gambo. This was a small location, with individual bathrooms, not stalls, so Rob coming in surprised Gambo, whose sip from his flask turned into a guzzle. He hastened to put it back in his pocket when he saw Rob, then he straightened up and snarled.
“Who the fuck you are?” Gambo said, dribbling vodka down his lower lip. The smell of rotgut liquor filled the air near the door, though the standard odors of an uncleaned public bathroom pervaded closer to the toilet.
“Rob.” His heart pounded. Rob did this kind of thing a lot, but it never got less nerve-wracking.
They were both in a dingy room that stank of piss. There was a filthy toilet and an even filthier urinal on the far wall. The sink was clogged with paper towels, and the trash can overflowed. The bathroom smelled like an ashtray more than anything, like somebody had dumped out their car ashtray in the trash can or maybe the toilet. Rob didn’t want to go look in the toilet.
“Uh… I was in here first, man,” Gambo said. He looked at Rob dourly as the door slammed shut.
“I’ll give you a break.”
“What?”
Rob reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill. “I’ll give you this if you let me jerk you off. I’ll swallow your cum. I’ll deepthroat you better than any female, swear to god.”
After a long pause, Gambo chewed on his lip and said, “I could just take it.” Then he did so, plucking the fifty out of Rob’s fingers.
Rob smiled. “You could.” He sunk slowly to his knees, maintaining eye contact with Gambo. He licked his teeth.
“I gotta take a piss.” He grunted. “Damn it, you was talkin’ ‘bout gettin’ me off, now I gotta piss, but I got a hardon.” He paused. “Fuck… When we done, you best stay in here, I don’t want them out there seein’ you come outta here at the same time as me.”
“Okay.” Rob undid Gambo’s fly. He liked dirty men, so he didn’t take Gambo’s pants off all the way — they were filthy. His jeans were caked with mud, which you could tell was from yesterday; he must have taken his jeans off outside, probably sitting around his traphouse room in his drawers all night. His jeans stank of unwashed clothing, and the musk of his massive cock made Rob moan with desire. He pulled down Gambo’s tattered white boxers too.
Gambo leaned back. “You ain’t my first, honky bitch. Don’t think that, I been jerked off by white males before. I had a bitch in prison. Nice bitch.”
Rob swallowed the tip of his cock and looked up at him. Gambo’s eyes were closed, scrunched shut, and his lips were pursed. Rob couldn’t decide if Gambo was lying or not. He looked nervous like he had never done this before. It didn’t much matter to Rob though, so he didn’t call him on it.
He nuzzled his nose deeply into Gambo’s hairy crotch. The smell of ball-sweat and mud and precum flooded Rob’s senses. He slobbered spit up until it soaked Gambo’s jeans. Gambo hadn’t noticed yet, but it made Rob giggle — his coworkers might notice that and make fun of him for it, it would look like he pissed himself.
His cock was rock-hard and throbbing in Rob’s mouth. Rob moaned, slathering spit all up and down the shaft. As he pulled Gambo’s heavy balls out, his fingers reached up under his tattered tee shirt and the yellow reflective vest he wore. Gambo wasn’t big-muscular, but he was ropy-muscled and leanly powerful. Rob couldn’t quite reach his pecs because Gambo was so tall, but he teased his nipples, which made Gambo’s pecs bounce.
There was a loud banging on the door.
Rob and Gambo both jumped. A loud booming laugh rang out from outside the bathroom. “Shit-Shock! Shit-Shock! A shit, Gambo, you ain’t do it right!”
“Fuck you, Piggie! I ain’t shittin’!” Gambo snarled. He pounded on the door again.
“Then whatchoo doin’ in there?!” The plump redneck outside laughed and pounded on the door.
“Nothin’!” Gambo bucked like he was going to fight the door itself. His cock throbbed in Rob’s mouth, while Rob’s heart raced. He loved jerking off men. Gambo pulled out his cell phone and pretended to be making a call. “Yeah, baby, it’s just that redneck-bitch bein’ a shit. I’m still comin’ to see you later.”
“You talkin’ to ya female in the shitter?”
“Shut the fuck up, Piggie! I don’t play that nasty Shit-Shock game!” Gambo said. He snarled and rolled his eyes as Piggie walked away with the other workers. Gambo gasped — pleasure enveloping him now that the distraction had gone. He shimmied his lean body, forcing his cock in and out of Rob’s throat. He let the sensitive underside of his shaft rub on Rob’s tongue, and Rob slurped up all the filth he could get to. One of Rob’s hands played with the hefty balls in Gambo’s sac, which was so sweat-soaked it was silky to the touch, and it smelled like bread left in a dumpster. “Fuckin’ Shit-Shock…” Gambo shook his head.
The “Shit-Shock” game was that no one on the crew was supposed to lock the door when they took a shit, either here or in the office or in the Port-a-Potty at the worksite. If someone realized you were in there taking a shit, they were “allowed” to burst in and throw a cup of ice-water on you. It was a stupid and disgusting game that Gambo saw as too low-brow for him. That didn’t stop him from thinking it was funny when it didn’t involve him, and it definitely didn’t stop him from doing it when some punk-ass whiteboy was on the shitter.
Realizing that he needed to hurry up, Gambo gripped the back of Rob’s head. His whole body undulated and his knees went weak. He held onto the handicapped-bar with one hand while he slammed his dick all the way down Rob’s throat.
“Damn, boy, shit… Not many girls deep-throat like that,” Gambo said. He let out a gasp but tried not to let on that this was the best, deepest dome he ever had — counting that prison bitch. “You know that site on Cherry Hill? They buildin’ an el’mentary school. I work at the road stoppage outside. You should come there, man, signal me and I’ll meet’cha in the trailer.” His voice broke. “Come by e’ery day, and I’ll bust a nut for you. Bring fitty bucks.”
Rob nodded. He probably wasn’t gonna do that. Definitely not every day. He loved the physiques of muscular workers and alpha males like Gambo, especially filthy, unwashed ones, but once he’d serviced them once, he tended to lose interest.
Gambo was probably worth a round two at least though. Rob didn’t tell him he would only do it once because, if he did, Gambo would probably rob him next time. Rob had been through this song and dance before.
“I’ll be there. Every day,” Rob said. He stuck his tongue out, then battered it with Gambo’s erection. “As long as I can afford it.” Rob was plenty wealthy and could easily afford to do it every day, but he wasn’t about to tell Gambo he was a rich man. That would surely lead to a robbery. He promised to be there every day so Gambo would think he’d make more money in the long run without robbing him.
Gambo grunted his acknowledgement, and he licked his teeth as he pushed forward with his hips. That made Rob swallow his cock deeper. Gambo threw his head back and moaned, muscles rippling up and down his body.
He opened his throat as wide as possible as he felt Gambo’s balls crawl up in his sac where it rested against Rob’s chin. Then cum sprayed down his gullet, coating his belly in creamy warmth. Gambo had heavy balls that shot a giant load, more and more continually flowing into him until Rob thought he couldn’t possibly swallow anymore.
“Goddamn…” Gambo stayed in position right there above Rob’s head, gripping his scalp. Outside, his coworkers launched into a rowdy round of laughter, and Gambo scrunched his eyes shut tight.
Rob pulled off and grinned. “Thanks,” he said as he wiped his lips off. “You have a nice dick.”
Gambo sniffled. “I know.”
Rob stood, stretching his legs. “You can go, I’ll wait a few minutes then leave by myself.”
Gambo nodded. “Okay. Don’t forget, keep comin’ by the worksite. Bring fitty bucks, I’ll let you jerk me off every day.”
Rob blushed. “Hey… that guy with the shaved head. Is he a nazi?”
Gambo shrugged. “Maybe. I think so.”
“If I give you fifty bucks, will you get him to come in here and let me jerk him off?” Rob produced another fifty bucks from a secret pocket.
Gambo grabbed the fifty. “Fine. No refunds if he beats you up. His name’s Cue.”
Rob sat in the center of the bathroom. He kneeled there for what felt like a long time.
Eventually, disappointment set in. Rob wondered if Cue was coming. Had Gambo ripped him off or did Cue not want to do it? Maybe Gambo didn’t do it right away. If Cue had left the restaurant already, Gambo might have just shrugged it off and gone to get a donut or something. Gambo don’t care.
But Rob enjoyed the feeling of Gambo’s creamy cum congealing on his face. It was cold now, and he had smeared as much as he could into his mouth. But some remnants of wetness remained on the skin.
The door opened.
In walked the possible Nazi Cue. You could tell he was bald anyway, that he shaved his head but he was bald to begin with. So that was one strike against being a Nazi. Rob couldn’t blame a bald man for going cue ball.
That’s where he gets the name. Duh. Rob was in Britain recently, so he was thinking of Queue. Or the Star Trek character Q. But this was Cue, like the snooker ball. Or pool, anyway.
“What?”
“You’re Cue?”
“Yeah. Did’ju talk shit about white people?”
“What? No,” Rob said.
“Gambo said you was an anti-white activist.”
“That is incorrect. He lied. He wanted you to beat me up,” Rob said.
“Oh.” Cue looked around the tiny space as though an anti-white activist might be hiding in the corner. “So you just kneel in bathrooms?”
“Sometimes. Can I pay you fifty bucks to jerk you off?” Rob asked.
Cue sneered. “Fuckin’ Gambo. You tell a homeboy one fuckin’ secret, and he goes and blabs it to everyone,” he said. “I don’t do that, Mistuh Pervert whoevuh you are.” He reached into Rob’s pockets and he pulled out the fifty dollars, then a further fifty dollars Rob also had tucked away.
“That’s a hundred dollars.”
“That’s right, you some kinda mathematician,” Cue said. “I’m gonna ram you up the ass now, you little bitch.” He paused and cocked his head to the side. “But not cuz I’m a booty bandit, fuckin’ Gambo-“
“He didn’t tell me you were a booty bandit.”
“I’m not, I ain’t like that,” Cue said. “Did he say I’m a Nazi? I ain’t a Nazi.”
“He said you might be a nazi,” Rob said. “I don’t care though. You can be a nazi, just ramrod me-“
“Oh, I will. I ain’t gettin’ paid for it like a fuckin’ rentboy. I ain’t a rentboy, and I ain’t a Nazi.” He spat on Rob’s face. “Fuck you.” He smacked Rob in the face. “I am robbin’ you, and I am also ramroddin’ you. Those things is unrelated. You got any more cash on you? Answer me!” He barked that like Rob was delaying, but he barked it the moment he said it, and he clapped his hands.
Rob jumped into action. He yelped and pulled out fifty dollars from the waistband of his underwear and another fifty dollars from his sock. Rob knew well how these kinds of situations sometimes ended poorly, so he had contingencies ready. He handed over the hundred bucks to Cue, who took it and counted it.
“Good. If you is holdin’ out on me, I will beat you senseless, bitch,” Cue said. “Everything you own is mine.” He grabbed Rob by the back of the head and shoved him into the wall of the grimy bathroom. Rob collided with the lineoleum.
“Yes, sir,” Rob said, panting. He tried to undo his pants, but Cue raced to do it for him. He ended up busting the button fly, and the zipper damn near sliced Rob’s dick open on the way down. If Rob wore thinner underwear, it probably would have.
Cue didn’t notice the button fly go busting off his pants and onto the linoleum wall. Cue was getting his own fat dick out. He snarled and smacked one of Rob’s asscheeks. He attempted as his asscrack as though he didn’t notice his dick was still soft — this had all only taken a few seconds — so it just roped into the sweaty asscrack of Rob’s pale behind.
Rubbing his cock there, Cue’s shaft got hard, and it rubbed on Rob’s sensitive hole. Cue was already pumping it, like he was ramming into Rob’s guts, even before it was fully hard, before he tried to aim it for Rob’s butthole. It glanced off his ass and jabbed up his buttcrack.
“You disgust me,” Cue said. He rammed again at Rob’s asscrack without trying to penetrate him, and his cock rammed so hard at Rob’s booty it hurt. Rob winced.
Then Cue spread his cheeks with one hand, his other hand keep Rob’s upper half bent over. A snarl on his face, Cue rammed his erection into Rob’s ass. It pushed, unceremoniously, ignoring the jerking, twitching and wincing coming from Rob.
Pleasure exploded within Rob, suddenly and intensely, accompanied by a mind-numbing agony. Cue made no effort to make this feel good, and Rob wouldn’t have it any other way.
Cue banged Rob’s head into the wall as he rammed hard at his ass. Rob oomphed in pain each time, and his hands fluttered behind himself as though to slow Cue down. He didn’t want Cue to slow down though, and Cue ignored it.
Pain blistered up and down Rob’s body, emanating from his head where it struck the wall and his ass, which stretched open to accommodate Cue’s massive shaft ripping him open. Each thrust of his cock sent a new wave of agony to spasm up Rob’s spine.
But the pleasure in his prostate was just as intense, and it too ascended with each thrust of Cue’s powerful body. Rob cried out for more. Cue grunted. His work-thick fingers dug into Rob’s smooth flesh, and both men paused for a moment.
A long jet of jizz spurted up Rob’s guts, and they both moaned in sync. Cue’s was a baritone murmur that accompanied a second cumwad coating Rob’s insides, while Rob let out a long low-pitched whine of desire, as his pain melted away into an exquisite bliss that wracked his body.
Rob moaned. He would have shot his own wad if he touched his dick, but he avoided that. He had a feeling this day could have a third part.
“Hey man,” Rob said, as Cue wiped his dick off behind him.
“What?”
“That grimy Mexican dude on your crew? Not the fat one, not the really hairy one-“
“Yeah. Diego. He’s a crackhead. Can’t even hold a stop sign right,” Cue said.
“Well… you wanna earn some extra money?”
“You holdin’ out on me, moneybacks?”
“No!” Rob said. “I just have a phone. You do too, right? You have PayUp?”
Cue nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Whatchoo want?”
Rob got the phone out of his back, and he synced it up with Cue’s. Rob didn’t mention that PayUp was his dad’s app — or his dad’s first app, anyway. Rob was a billionaire. Obviously, that would be a foolish thing to bring up, but it brought a smile to Rob’s face as he sent Cue an additional fifty bucks. Then he said, “Alright, I’ll add two hundred if you get me that Diego in here and let me ram him in the ass. I mean hold him down. Or give him the two hundred if he’ll do it willingly, I don’t care how-“
Cue scoffed. “I don’t pay a crackhead for ass,” he said. He screwed up his face. “You is nasty as hell, mistuh. Moneybags.”
He went out there, and Rob again kneeled on the floor in the bathroom. He wanted more than anything to touch his dick, but he avoided it. His erection still throbbed, and the pain in his ass continued. The film of jizz from Gambo’s load still rested on his face.
Finally the door opened once again, and in walked Cue with Diego. Diego was a short raggedy Mexican man, powerfully built but jittery and scruffy as anything. He looked strong but malnourished. Of course he was a crackhead, Rob should have guessed.
“Hey man, Diego,” Cue said. “This is the white man who gonna jerk you off for ten bucks. But you gotta take yo’ pants off. C’mon, undo that belt-“
“What?” Diego snarled in Spanish-inflected English. He looked aggressively in Rob’s direction, then at Cue.
But Cue evidently thought speed was prudent, because he reached for Diego’s belt, which he ripped open. He pulled down Diego’s pants, and he barked for Diego to bare his dick. Diego screwed up his face, but he did so. “Get them pants off!” Cue screamed at Diego, who again looked at him curiously. His pants and his drawers were around his ankles. He hesitated, then lifted one leg.
That was what Cue was waiting for. He knocked Diego off-balance and onto the floor of the grimy bathroom, then he kicked him in the ribs hard. “Stay down.”
Rob climbed atop him, spreading his legs to mount Diego’s hairy ass. He looked homeless, or at least he was very dirty. Maybe he lived in an overcrowded apartment. In any case, his asscheeks were toned and firm, and his asshole was broken-in — he’d been rammed up behind before. Maybe for crack money. He definitely had the cadence and affect of a crackhead.
“Hey, esé, get off me!” Diego squirmed, but Cue stepped on his upper back, and his heavy body kept Diego pinned down.
Rob aimed his dick for Diego’s hairy ass, and he squeezed it between his cheeks. Diego seemed to only know realize what was going on, his asshole clamping shut only after Rob got his dicktip in the hole. That forced Rob to lower his head to near Cue’s dirty workboot, which rested between Diego’s shoulderblades.
Cue kicked him in the ribs and even in the face whenever his squirming got to be too much, as Rob forced his dick in deeper and deeper.
It was awkward at first, but once Diego relented and stopped fighting back so much, his asshole slackened. That allowed Rob to force his entire cock in there, and a burst of pleasure overwhelmed him. Rob moaned, biting his lip to keep from being loud enough the other workers could hear otuside the bathroom.
With another grunt and a moan, Rob filled Diego’s ass with creamy seed. Diego whimpered as powerful ecstasy overwhelmed Rob. He’d been waiting to bust his own nut as he serviced Gambo and Cue, so now he felt overdue for an orgasm, and it was so intense it hurt.
It continued too, for what seemed like a long time but probably wasn’t. Rob shot a huge load that coated Diego’s insides, and it made Rob curl his toes as his moans were swallowed up by Cue’s foot — that was still on Diego’s back, right where Rob lowered his head when the pleasure got to be too much to keep it up.
When he had drained his balls up Diego’s quivering butthole, Rob let his cock come out, and he smiled as jizz slipped out Diego’s ass. Diego squirmed again beneath Cue’s foot, but Cue didn’t let up.
Rob tucked his dick in his pants. He grabbed his backpack and hurried out, while Cue playfully but firmly kicked Diego in the side. That stopped Diego from pulling his pants up with a quickness.
He got in his car and left before Diego could make it out the door. Rob didn’t want Diego seeking revenge, and only when he got out of the parking lot did Rob wipe his dick fully clean.
He smiled though. He was going to meet Gambo later. And he bet Gambo would be willing to set up something similar for a similar price…

The Cocky Thug

Alboroto is a badass and a ladysman, but when he gets in a bad spot, a weird gringo white dude is willing to give him a few dollars in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!

Not that Alboroto needs any help…

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob settled into his motel room at the Top Inn and got to work. The weather was beautiful, and the beach was not far from here. He really wanted to go out and bask in the sun, swim in the sea for the first time in years, not to mention eyebang the hunks and hotties whom he suspected would be there. Riverside, California seemed to be full of studs.
So that was what he needed to get done today. He had already written most of it. He just needed to churn the ending out, then he could go out guy-watching — Rob appreciated the male physique, and Riverside was full of splendid examples of it. Any city with this many men had to leave most of them unsatisfied, since there weren’t anywhere’s near as many sexy women that Rob could see.
When he reached a good stopping point, he decided to take a break. All he had to write was another four thousand words or so for the ending, and he’d be done for the day. Rob could write ten thousand words a day without breaking a sweat.
He resolved to at least sketch out the chapter, but then he nearly bumped into the bare, bulging bicep of a young Latino man walking by. Rob caught a whiff of his cheap cologne and a few sweaty notes that made his dick chub up.
The Latino didn’t notice that he had nearly bumped into Rob because he was on his cell phone, clicking his tongue against his teeth as a feminine voice yelled at him. His pants were slung low, and his muscles bulged from his wifebeater, atop which hung a couple shimmering chains.
“I told you, chica, I’ll buy it. I promise. Yo’ birthday ain’t till tomorrow, right? I ain’t late. I’ll pawn some chains, baby, don’t worry. I never let you down,” he said. “Yeah. Alright, baby.” He sighed and whispered. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I said I was sorry. I, uh, I love you, chica. C’mon… I love you. I was drunk then, but I love you, c’mon…” He looked at the phone and tssked his tonge against his teeth again. He put the phone back in his pocket — she had already hung up. He shook his head and lit a cigarette.
“Girl trouble?” Rob asked.
He glanced at Rob like he hadn’t known he was there. He nodded noncommitall and mumbled something like wuzzup.
“I’m Rob,” he said. “I’m a writer.”
“Cool.” He took a drag on his cigarette.
“I’ve got two hundred and three dollars cash in my wallet. I’ll give it to you if you let me jerk you off,” Rob said. He was blunt since it appeared this guy was not going to engage in a conversation.
The Latino looked up at Rob — though built like the proverbial brick shithouse, he was not tall — and glared at him.
He sneered. “Gringo… You should not be talkin’ ‘bout cash in this city,” he said. “I am gonna take yo’ two hundred and three dollars. And I will also let you jerk me off. Those two things ain’t related. I am robbin’ you, motherfucker, I ain’t yo’ rent boy.”
“Uh, okay,” Rob said. “Can we use your room?” He didn’t want to give this guy the chance to steal his laptop. He wasn’t writing this plowing lesbian story all over again, and he hadn’t backed up since Monday.
The Latino nodded, then let him in. He had the room next to Rob’s. As soon as he walked in, he took off his shirt. He kept his chains and his backwards baseball cap on, and he didn’t lower his pants. “You’ll lick balls, right?”
“Yes, sir, I will,” Rob said. He blushed at the sight of the Latino’s rippling muscles. That made Rob’s face and chest turn red, and his dick got a little harder in his pants. The Latino beamed like he didn’t get called sir a lot, which is exactly why Rob had done it. “What should I call you, sir?”
“Gimme that money and start,” he said, sneering at the question he refused to answer.
Rob’s hands shook as he pulled out his wallet. He had exactly two hundred and three dollars in there. He tremblingly handed it over to the Latino, and his hands fumbled with the Latino’s fly.
The word Alboroto was tattooed on his belly; Rob didn’t know what it meant. It looked like a nickname, so that was what Rob decided to call him. He unzipped Alboroto’s jeans and pulled his long, thick dick out through the fly.
“Get to suckin’, gringo,” Alboroto said. He crossed his arms over his bare chest.
Rob kissed the tip to tease him. He produced a mouthful of spit and spat it out on Alboroto’s shaft. Then he sucked the spit back up and repeated that a few times, as he licked the sides and rubbed the entire cockshaft over his lips.
But he didn’t actually put it in his mouth yet. Rob loved provoking macho alpha males like Alboroto, who kept his chin up, avoiding looking down at Rob. His arms were over his chest, and every few seconds he scoffed like he was annoyed Rob hadn’t made him cum yet.
“What do you need to buy for your girlfriend?” Rob asked. He thwacked that massive cock over his face. It was only half-hard yet, throbbing and meaty, slick with saliva. He kept his tongue out of his mouth, rubbing Alboroto’s dick over it as he talked. “Is it a present? I could help. I know a lot about what girls want.”
“What do you know about girls?”
“I’m a romance author.”
“What?”
“Remember I said I’m a writer? I mainly write romance for women,” Rob said. He licked cocksweat off his own lips and rubbed his tongue along the veins that lined Alboroto’s shaft. Rob giggled. “I know a lot about what they want.”
Alboroto scoffed and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Man, that ain’t relevant. My girl don’t read some gringo’s romance-” He paused like he had just realized something. “Oh. I mean, she read some shit on her kindle-“
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“She read yo’ shit?”
“Well, I dunno about that, prolly not me specifically,” Rob said. “Is she into rugby jocks?” He deep-throated Alboroto’s dick one time, just lowering his head all the way until he gagged and sputtered. His nose nestled in Alboroto’s trimmed pubic hair. Alboroto gasped. His knees buckled and his dick perked up in Rob’s mouth.
His muscles roiling, jaw trembling, Alboroto mumbled something that Rob didn’t understand. It was clear that he was saying that he didn’t know what rugby was and he didn’t pay enough attention to his chica’s interests to know if she read romance novels on her kindle.
Rob pulled off and smiled up at Alboroto, who had a flat expression on his face though his suddenly pulsating cock suggested he was enjoying the dome very much. He just didn’t want to admit it. He shifted his weight.
Rob took a deep breath. “Your dick tastes so good. I bet your chica loves sucking on it.”
He flared his nostrils. “No. She-” His voice broke as Rob deep-throated him again. Alboroto grunted as he again covered up how aroused he was. “She only sucks dick if I, uh… If I do…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at his cock disappearing down Rob’s throat. “I mean, she sucks me off whenevuh I tell her to.”
Rob pulled away and clucked his tongue. “Oh, you poor baby. I think all girls should suck their man off every day,” he said. Always tell ‘em what they wanna hear…
“Hell yeah, you should run for president,” Alboroto mumbled. He groaned as his dick spasmed in Rob’s mouth.
“Is it okay if I lick your balls, sir?” Rob asked. He giggled and blushed.
Alboroto nodded. “Yeah, man, open up. You like that?” Alboroto loved it when his girl sucked on his balls, but she hated it and had only done so once.
“I love it. I bet you have tasty balls,” Rob said with a laugh.
“Si.”
Rob turned his head upwards and opened his mouth. Alboroto pulled his heavy, hairy ballsack out of the fly of his jeans, and he plopped it right in Rob’s waiting mouth. Instantly the flavor of Alboroto’s sweat assaulted Rob’s senses. He moaned and gurgled, producing more saliva and tickling Alboroto’s scrotum skin.
Alboroto grunted and heaved some more. He kept his arms folded over his chest, accentuating his thick pecs; his muscles kept tensing and flexing and he had to force his hands to remain in position. He closed his eyes and moaned, but bit his lip to stifle it.
“You okay, man,” Alboroto said with a dry, throaty chuckle. He wrinkled his nose. “You okay at this. I had better. Pity you ain’t got tits.”
Rob said he was sorry for not being a girl, but his mouth was full of sweaty balls, so all that came out was a moist, muffled sound. He licked Alboroto’s scrotum, lapping at it as Alboroto shifted his weight. His eyes bugged out like he had rarely had someone suck his balls so perfectly.
Finally Alboroto couldn’t bear to keep his arms folded over his chest anymore. He smacked the motel room wall behind himself and threw his head back. He groaned so loud the sound resonated in Rob’s ears, and he could even feel the vibrations in Alboroto’s cock.
“C’mon, lick my dick.” He grabbed Rob’s head as though going to throat him down. But then the feel of Rob’s hair stopped him — it was short and entirely too masculine. Alboroto didn’t want to touch him.
But he was enjoying the dome. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He put his arms over his chest again, though he found it difficult to keep them there.
Alboroto had never gotten dome from a man before. He would have never admitted that. When he was eighteen, he spent three weeks in prison. When he came back, he told his friends that he had turned a inmate into a whore and had throated him until he begged for mercy.
None of that had been true but it had made Alboroto seem like a real gangsta. He was glad to have an opportunity to really do it for once, so now he could truthfully say he wasn’t a bullshitter about this (or at least, it wasn’t completely bullshit). His friends still called him Violador sometimes in reference to it.
But he couldn’t admit, even to himself right now, how good the dome from Rob was — he always swore that prison dome was sloppy and crappy. Alboroto had been complaining to his friends for years about how he needed a girl who would suck his dick like a good, submissive bitch should.
“Swallow it deep, man, get it all the way in there… Bajo”
He wondered if he should ram this gringo in the ass. A part of him said no, of course not, that was too gross. But another part of him said to do it. He had been bragging about plowing that man in prison — he had told people he rammed that prison punk until he cried — so maybe it would be good to actually do it once. He’d never tell his friends about this one, but at least he wouldn’t be lying when he said he did it.
In truth, his friends would not think less of him for ramrodding a man. That would simply make him an hombre, which was fine. In his culture, men were either hombres who rammed or pasivos who got rammed. It wasn’t bad to be an hombre. That made you a real man, especially if you rammed your pasivo in a hard and cruel way.
So that was what he intended to do. But first, Alboroto called his friend Jamaal. “Yo.”
Yo, sup.
“You got that Carter Ave deal, right?
Yeah. Why you callin’ ‘bout that again?
“Just wanted to make sure, nigga.”
Whatchoo doin’?
“Gettin’ head. You wanna hear?” Alboroto smiled and held the phone low, right next to where his cock plunged down Rob’s throat. His dick was rock-hard now, precum flowing like piss. If he wasn’t distracted by his discomfort with being with a man, Alboroto thought he would have cum already.
Sounds nice, man. I thought yo’ chica wasn’t doin’ that anymore-
“Shut the fuck up, nigga. My bitch does it when I tell her to.”
So that is her?
“I ain’t say that. I ain’t say it was a her at all. I gots me a prison bitch, Jamaal.”
Oh yeah, right, just like that one in prison, huh?
“Fuck you.”
E’rybody know you a big bullshitter, Durango. Tha’s prolly some whore you paid like two bucks for dome.
“Man, Jamaal-“
How much she charge to take her teeth out first? You know you gonna have to pay for antibiotics, right? Would-a been cheaper to pay more fo’ a better whore.
“Ram you, Jamaal! Shut your mouth,” Getting annoyed, Alboroto resumed throating Rob down, since at least that way he could express his frustration, even if it wasn’t aimed at the right person. He gripped Rob’s head with one hand, holding the phone with the other — a few minutes ago he had found it distracting to touch a man’s hair, but now he was both hornier and more distracted, so he didn’t think of that. “Yeah, you here that, Jamaal? Huh? That’s my balls slappin’ on my bitch’s chin.”
Oh yeah? That must be nice. Ain’t nobody evuh manage to suck my dick that deep, y’know. Mouths don’t come that big.
“I’m gonna come throat yo’ face next,” Alboroto said with a snarl. He hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. He closed his eyes and mumbled to himself. He should never have called Jamaal. Jamaal was going to tell everyone that Alboroto was mess with a toothless herpes-ridden crackwhore.
He tried to banish those thoughts from his mind. He focused on the pleasure twinging up from his veiny cockshaft as saliva dripped down it in clumps, landing in his shortened pubic hair — his chica demanded he keep himself trimmed. He pumped his hips, slamming his dick down deep in Rob’s throat.
“You gonna make me nut, boy…” Alboroto said. He didn’t mention that his girlfriend’s toothy, off-rhythm sucking never brought him to orgasm so easily, on those rare occasions when he talked her into trying it.
When he felt an orgasm coming on quickly, Alboroto grabbed Rob and pulled him off his dick. He felt momentarily disappointed as his dick was now without attention. It felt cold, and it throbbed like it demanded someone touching it, sucking on it, taking it inside some tight, dark hole.
“You gonna give up the ass, gringo?”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said. He teased Alboroto by standing up and stretching his legs. He knew he had a nice plump ass, which he displayed after dropping his jeans. He made a big show of slowly bending over the bed, knowing that Alboroto would just get more frustrated as he waited. “Do you have lube?”
Alboroto nodded. He pulled a tube out of a duffel bag, out of which he had been living for the past month. He poured the lube onto the top of Rob’s asscrack, so it seeped down into his hole. It was cold at first, and Rob let out a shiver.
Then he felt an explosion of pressure in his asshole. As always, it hurt at first, more than it felt good, especially this time since Alboroto was not trying to be gentle.
But within a few seconds of that throbbing brown meat entering him, Rob moaned as a shard of pre-orgasmic pleasure hit him. He was already rock-hard from the taste of Alboroto’s dick, and now his excited prostate sent him to the next level.
“Ah, yes, stick it in me, Alboroto…” he said. His voice broke and he hung his head.
“You ain’t gotta tell me that,” Alboroto said. He saw Rob’s wallet on the floor and fished it out as he worked his dick in, centimeter by centimeter. He didn’t want to steal the man’s credit cards, that was too dangerous, but he did want to see if he had any emergency cash. Sure enough, there was a folded-up fifty dollar bill, which Alboroto pocketed. He wanted to distract the gringo, so he grabbed his own clean wifebeater and used it like a tether in the guy’s mouth.
Rob bit down hard on the fabric, which smelled of Alboroto’s sweat and his cheap cologne, a generic-brand body spray by the scent of it. That made Rob’s dick throb and leak precum onto the mattress — Rob loved the funky smell of unwashed men.
“Gonna ramroad you the way a vato should,” Alboroto said. “Get on your back, bitch.” His chest was dappled with sweat. He dropped the wifebeater, pulled his dick out and rolled Rob over. Right after being released from prison when he was eighteen, Alboroto’s uncle had told him how a real hombre should ram his pasivo. He said that the pasivo has to be on his back, with his legs in the air, both because that was similar to a position you might fuck a woman in and because it meant he couldn’t run away — Alboroto’s uncle had been in prison off and on throughout his life, in the US, Mexico and also Guatemala briefly.
Now he really wanted that position, even if it did mean he’d be able to see Rob’s cock as he jacked himself off. That just seemed gross. Alboroto couldn’t imagine how anyone took dick in the ass and liked it, and seeing Rob’s hard cock made it impossible to avoid thinking about that.
So he closed his eyes and pumped his hips. His cock was all the way in Rob’s ass. That had been so easy, and it felt so good, he didn’t even notice that he felt no real resistance. He had never fucked a girl who didn’t complain about his dick in her ass. It was nice to be able to pound away as hard as he could, knowing he wouldn’t have to hear constant whining and telling him to take a break.
He held Rob’s feet in position, and he was so aroused he didn’t even notice Rob’s leg hair scratching against Alboroto’s flesh. Alboroto slammed his dick in and out, marveling at how tight Rob’s ass was, yet loose enough that Alboroto could ram him hard.
The more he plowed back and forth, the less inhibited he got. Alboroto slapped Rob’s asscheeks, which his girl hated, and smiled as that made Rob clench and moan.
Waves of pleasure erupted from deep within Alboroto. He was about to orgasm when his cell phone rang. He knew who it was even before he pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket. It was his chica, Rosa.
“Keep quiet, man,” he said. He answered the phone. “Hey, baby.”
You pawn those chains yet?
“It’s been like twenty minutes, chica.”
So? My birthday is still tomorrow, and if you think I’m lettin’ my sister show me up, you got another thing comin’.
“Baby, I tol’ you, I’d buy it,” he said. He sniffled. Alboroto spoke quietly and plainly to her, his bravado largely gone. He kept plowing as he talked, but he moved his hips slowly, both to keep himself from orgasming as he talked and because he didn’t want to make noise. He sighed.
Don’t you roll your eyes at me, nigga. I can hear you-
“You can’t hear my eyes roll.”
Yes, I can, you no-good asshole. You fuckin’ some slut right now?
“No, baby!”
I want that perfume, Durango. You promised it. You always say that you buy me nice things because you’re such a gangsta, but you never actually do it-
“I said I’d do it! I’ll buy it!” he said. He stopped moving with his dick all the way in Rob’s ass, so deep Rob’s balls even touched Alboroto’s crotch-hair. His dick throbbed against Rob’s prostate, making Rob writhe as he tried to avoid crying out. Alboroto was very annoyed, especially that she had called him Durango — that’s what she always called him, but Rob had started to call him Alboroto because he didn’t know his real name and it was tattooed on his belly. Alboroto had never gotten his girl to call him that. She constantly “forgot” and called him Durango. He felt like a loser complaining about it to her, but it did annoy him, and as he had been listening to Rob moan about how much he loved Alboroto’s cock sliding into him, Alboroto was now reminded of why he liked to be called by his street name.
The perfume was one recently released by a Latina rapper named Reinita Ray. Alboroto didn’t see what the big deal was — it was just a perfume — but his girlfriend idolized Reinita Ray, and her sister had gone to a concert that Alboroto had “accidentally” (but really on-purpose) forgotten to buy tickets for. So he couldn’t fail to buy the perfume as well.
You had better, nigga. You gonna pawn those chains?
“Nah. I’m robbin’ this gringo instead. Don’t call me again, I’m in the middle of a robbery,” he said. He hung up the phone before she could say anything. He turned it off. That oughta sound like a real gangsta, he thought to himself, and it wasn’t even a lie, not really.
He rammed so hard his balls slapped against Rob’s asscheeks. One of his hands had wandered over while he was on the phone, and now it rested above Rob’s neck, holding him in place. Alboroto gave him a squeeze.
It wasn’t tight enough to strangle Rob, but it did get his attention. His mind was swimming with pleasure, as he stroked himself off and wiggled on the bedspread. The blankets and sheets were wadded up by now, on the foot of the bed.
It was obvious Alboroto was about to cum. Rob orgasmed as well, his prostate singing and tingling with every thrust of Alboroto’s cock into him. Rob’s entire body tensed and clenched. He threw his head back and screamed so loud people outside the motel room could hear.
As cum flew over Rob’s stomach, Alboroto wrinkled his nose. He knew a lot of hombres didn’t allow their pasivos to jack off while they got rammed — he wished he had thought of that before, because now he could smell semen, which made his stomach churn. He even saw it trickle down Rob’s flesh, most of it going over the side and onto the mattress, but one rivulet ran down to Alboroto’s cock. If he wasn’t on the verge of orgasming as well, he would have stopped to punish Rob for getting cum on him.
“Take it, man, yeah…”
But he didn’t want to stop, even if he did feel another man’s semen coating his dick. That made him shudder with disgust. His muscles tensed. His gold and platinum changed tinkled when they clanged against each other as he rammed.
“Take it, gringo, yeah, you gonna get filled up…” He moaned as he came. He forgot about pretending he would rather be plowing a girl — he would, of course, but only if she had an ass exactly like this gringo. He strangled Rob for real, for just a few seconds, long enough to make him wiggle and clench his ass again. It felt like he was tearing that ass up, which made Alboroto feel like a tough guy, like his father.
“Oh god, Alboroto, your dick is so perfect…”
He slammed his dick in and out, even as it became uncomfortably sensitive. He liked hearing Rob enthusiastically beg for more, and he liked watching how every thrust of his hips made Rob squirm a little more. He also liked how his cumload made a big mess the more he rammed, big waves of bubbly, frothy cum coating his crotch and soaking into the mattress.
“You done, punk? Huh?” Alboroto asked — his uncle had said this was how you finished inside a pasivo in prison, so Alboroto wanted to try it out — “Huh? Answer me, bitch. You want me to pull out? I ain’t gonna pull out till you beg me to do it. Gonna stay inside ya-“
“Don’t ever pull out,” Rob said, his voice weak and tremulous. His entire body shook as aftershocks of his orgasm washed over him. He moaned again and clutched the mattress beneath himself.
Alboroto’s dick slowly limpened inside Rob’s guts. “Tell me when you done, bitch. Tell me…” His menacing voice trailed off as he realized this wasn’t going to work. Maybe in prison where you weren’t doing it on a comfortable bed, and you didn’t have nice lube. But here, this gringo was in no hurry to get Alboroto to pull out. That meant Alboroto had painted himself into a corner — he was too proud to remove his cock without hearing Rob beg, since he had sworn he wouldn’t. If Rob wasn’t going to beg, there was nothing Alboroto could do without losing face.
“Can you move your dick a little to the left?” Rob asked. “There’s a spot there…” He groaned and smiled as Alboroto’s dick shifted and another wave of pleasure hit him. In actuality, there was a lot of discomfort too, now that they had both cum. But Rob liked making things difficult for Alboroto — it brought out the machismo in him. Alboroto’s muscles tensed and flexed.
“Ain’t gonna pull out till you make me, bitch. Beg me for it,” Alboroto said. He spat on Rob’s face, but Rob just sucked it up. That made Alboroto gag, as did the sight of his dick in Rob’s hairy, frothy-cummed asshole. Could he just pull out? Embarrassing himself in front of some random gringo who wasn’t even from Riverside shouldn’t be a problem, he thought. But he still didn’t want to do it.
Rob grinned. It finally got uncomfortable enough he gave in. “Please, sir, take your dick out, so I can clean it off.”
“Alright,” Alboroto said, relieved to be done. He pulled his dick out, deliberately keeping his head up so he didn’t see it — he didn’t want to know how nasty his cock looked right now. He hadn’t thought to make his bitch clean his dick off, but that was a good idea.
Rob used kleenex to wipe the shaft off. He used most of an entire box, sopping up all the cum and the assjuice and the spit that still clung to it. Then he kissed Alboroto’s dick right on the shaft.
Alboroto shuddered as his knees buckled. His dick spasmed, reawakening all of the pleasure that had diminished since he finished plowing. His voice broke as he mumbled for Rob to quit playing with it. “Damn, gringo. You really like cock, huh?”
“I like your cock, baby,” Rob said. He leaned back on the bed, naked, until Alboroto barked at him to get dressed.
“We done now, gringo. Unless you got more cash I ain’t rob off you yet,” he said. He put his wifebeater back on.
Rob slowly put his clothes on while Alboroto grinned at him. Rob made a kissy face, and Alboroto looked away. “Hey, Alboroto,” Rob said. “I don’t have any more cash. But I’ll write you a check for a hundred dollars if you kiss me, with tongue. You don’t have any way of knowing if the check will clear. You’ll just have to trust me.”
“No way! Fuck no! I ain’t no kinda pansy,” Alboroto said. His blood boiled, but his anger came mainly from the fact that he knew he was going to say yes — a hundred bucks and all he had to do was spend a couple seconds pretending he was with a girl? He could do that. “Absolutely not, gringo. That is fuckin’ nasty.”
But then before Rob could say anything, Alboroto grabbed him in his arms and threw him back on the bed, where Rob felt the wet spots and smelled the cumstains they had just created. Alboroto’s muscular chest flexed beneath Rob’s grasp as Alboroto kissed him right on the lips.
His tongue plunged into Rob’s mouth and stayed there, completely still, not moving even when Rob’s tongue touched it. It was like Alboroto thought sticking his tongue in Rob’s mouth was okay, but moving it around made it feel too weird.
To Rob, Alboroto’s awkwardness made it even better. That was what he liked. It was, objectively speaking, the worst kiss ever. But Rob got to grope Alboroto’s strapping back and even his plump asscheeks beneath his jeans, before Alboroto finally pulled away.
He growled. “You best write that check, bitch. And if it don’t cash… I swear to God, I will track you down. Your address is on the check, y’know.”
“Oh right,” Rob said, making it sound like he had really forgotten that. The address on the check was in Florida, and if Alboroto did go there, he’d find just a UPS store. But Rob didn’t let on. The check would clear.
Alboroto beamed like he had just gotten away with something as Rob wrote out the check. He put machismo in the memo line. “I’ll leave that top line blank,” Rob said, “since you don’t want to tell me your real name.”
He nodded and swiped the check. “Now get out, bitch.”
Rob did as he was told. He was glad to be away from Alboroto safely, even if he was also going to miss that cock.

The niggas ain’t do that when Steel was young. They just popped they collars and occasionally robbed a bodega.

But Rico and them, the kitkats, came to church cuz they committed aheada time and cuz Steel and Big John woulda tracked ’em down with fist-shape kisses if they ain’t show up or if they left partway through the night.

Rico and the other at-risk young adults came into Ebenezer Baptist one weekend for a lock-in. That’s where they hafta stay in the church all night, for sermons and shit. Reverend Cherrymore came by and preached a couple times. They did it tonight cuz there was rumors of a teen takeover — where they do burnouts and whatnot en masse in downtown Amarillo. Sure enough, the shit popped off around midnight, it popped off like popcorn, they ransacked a smoothie joint and crashed a Toyota into a Hyundai (which is exactly how the Kia was invented). Rico and them’all niggas woulda been there, most likely, skidding up sparks, broke some kid’s arm, got Mayor Transom fuming and booming, shit! But Rico and them, the kitkats, came to church cuz they committed aheada time and cuz Steel and Big John woulda tracked ’em down with fist-shape kisses if they ain’t show up or if they left partway through the night. Doors wasn’t actually locked, cuz that’d be illegal, fire code and such. It ain’t even possible to lock ’em from the outside.
But Steel’d beat the stuffing outta any nigga who try and join the street takeover. There’s a video on the internet where this whiteboy gets mowed down at one, shit’s crazy, Steel be bugging. The niggas ain’t do that when Steel was young. They just popped they collars and occasionally robbed a bodega.

From Winston Steel & the White Man