Reacharound From a Soccer Jock

Simon and soccer player Octavio share a dorm room, but when Octavio gets dumped and has a stiffy that won’t go down, Simon is eager to help out! Can he accept this Uruguayan exchange student’s exotic machismo and his powerful manhood?

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“Don’t worry, he won’t wake up,” Octavio’s voice filtered into Simon’s mind as he slept.
But that wasn’t quite enough to wake him up yet. Simon lingered in between sleep and wakefulness, as the conversation beneath him grew steadily louder and louder. Octavio’s deep voice echoed in the dorm room they shared.
Simon had come to GHU just three weeks ago, and he already disliked his dormmate. It was tough because, while Octavio was a prick, he was also a handsome soccer star. Simon loved his square jaw, broad shoulders and deep, dark eyes, his unbridled machismo, his bulging muscles that didn’t fit in the too-small soccer shorts he wore to bed. He was rough and brusque and seemed much older than his age. His jaw was broad, his hair short like a soldier, his chest perpetually shirtless.
His jersey and those musty shorts lay crumpled on the floor. Simon sat up as he heard the argument in the bed beneath him grow more heated. Octavio had brought his girlfriend over to the dorm. It was awkward, to have those two giggling and flirting, probably touching — maybe fucking — or at least, you know… touching each other — in the same room as Simon, while Simon wasn’t involved at all. Not a double date, not a friend of a friend, not a party. Simon had no connection to what was happening in his room.
Octavio’s frustrated voice muttered, muffled by the bed separating them. It sounded pleading. Was he asking her for something? Simon wondered if his breathing sounded like he was asleep. How do asleep people breathe? He exhaled slowly. Octavio and his girlfriend probably couldn’t hear though, they were talking, in increasingly animated voices. Octavio sounded frustrated.
“I don’t care, Octavio, don’t be a jerk! Why can’t we wait?!” That was Mandy, Octavio’s girlfriend. She was kind of a bitch, but she was beautiful — big tits, long legs, a round ass, a hefty head of mouse-brown hair. Mandy and Octavio had hooked up two weeks ago, but it already felt like forever. They argued constantly. She set up tasks for Octavio to do a lot, she seemed to think she was his social manager. She wanted Octavio to confront various people about wrongs done, to switch classes and majors, to say various things to various people in specific tones of voice, to buy her things even though she was the one from a wealthy family, while Octavio had to borrow money from her to buy the crap she insisted on. She’d barely looked at Simon. Women like her didn’t notice men like him existed.
“I been waiting!” he said with a groan. Octavio backed away from the dorm bed beneath Simon. She still lay there. Octavio must have been undressing, and maybe she did too? Simon heard a flurry of activity underneath him, which might have been her putting clothes on. Octavio’s face was ruddy and tense
He wore only a clean white jockstrap. The bulge of his dick would have been visible if it weren’t so dark in here, Simon had seen that on several occasions. When it was really hot, Octavio walked around in his jockstrap, either uncaring or unaware of how much his bare ass got Simon’s attention, especially when it was cradled by the straps of his jock.
Hoping to avoid any awkward situations, Simon pretended not to wake up. He couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Octavio’s nearly-naked soccer-toned body, however. Octavio was a soccer phenom back in his native Uruguay — he claimed to have been offered a position as a player for a professional club, but turned it down to go to school in America, here in the middle of nowhere. Simon wasn’t entirely sure he believed Octavio about the professional team offer, but it was plausible. He was the best soccer player on the GHU team, or so everybody said. Soccer fans seemed to think Simon should be overjoyed to be sharing a room with the Octavio Juárez.
“You’re being a real asshole right now. I said we could come up here and make out. I’m not…” her voice trailed off to a whisper, “having sex in front of your roommate.”
“He’s a wuss, and he’s uno nadie. He don’t matter, chica. Only you matter…” he said with a sigh. “I want you. I need you. Now shut up or he’s gonna wake-“
“Don’t you tell me to shut up! I told you about that, I hate that! You fucking asshole, Octavio! I knew this was going to happen. Didn’t I-?” She jumped to her feet.
“Oh, shut your stupid bitch mouth for a minute and let me talk!”
“What did you call me?!” Mandy put her hands on her hips, exchanged dark-eyed stares in the unlit dorm room with Octavio, whose jockstrapped body rippled and flexed like he was using all his muscles just to stand there. Her tits nearly overflowed from her bra, and she carried her blouse in hand. She put the blouse on and clumsily buttoned it as she strode to the door, then stood in the threshold and screamed at Octavio. “You are a real prick, Octavio, you know that? You’re a worthless piece of shit!” Then she slammed the door shut.
Simon sat up, as there was no point in pretending he slept through that. He looked at Octavio, who paced across the darkened dorm room. Light from the streetlamps outside and from the computers and charging cell phones kept the room illuminated enough to see his flat stomach and hairy chest, his nut-nose skin and his grizzled square jaw. Simon felt inadequate — he was small and skinny, and he seemed young in comparison even though he was actually three weeks older than Octavio. How did someone just barely eighteen look like he was pushing thirty? How did he have such muscle and body hair? Simon cursed his luck. Most of the guys in the drama department had a sixth floor dorm. Simon wished he was with them. He wasn’t a drama major — Dad would never allow that — but he hung out with theater people, and it sounded like they had such fun.
They didn’t have handsome machos like Octavio though. Simon licked his lips. He got to shower with Octavio sometimes, and he always did enjoy the camaraderie and the horseplay and the fat jiggling cock. He didn’t think Octavio felt reciprocally though — Simon enjoyed those things when Octavio did them, but Octavio wouldn’t enjoy them if Simon did them, which he didn’t. So to Octavio, those showers were probably boring and dumb, and he probably preferred to shower with his fellow soccer stars.
“Sorry ’bout that!” he muttered, his tone still angry as though this was Simon’s fault. He kept pacing.
“Oh, no worries,” Simon said. “It’s okay. I, uh… I’m sorry-“
But he wasn’t listening. He interrupted Simon with an expressive flourish of his hands. “That fucking bitch promised me she’d put out tonight!”
“Well, she might have-“
“I ain’t bein’ a prick, she was teasing me about it all night! All night, she was sayin’, you just wait till we get back to your dorm!”
“Yeah, Octavio-“
“And now she fuckin’ blueballs me! That goddamn perra! ¡Es la perra más grande del mundo!” he said. He put his hands on his hips and glared at Simon. “Why are you always lookin’ at me in my jockstrap, huh?” His pubic hair peeked out from the edge of the overstuffed jockstrap. It looked like his balls were about to fall out of the pouch.
Simon blushed. He didn’t answer. He just bit his lip. He hadn’t realized how obvious he’d been. But even now, he had trouble looking away from the overstuffed bulge of Octavio’s crotch.
Octavio came closer to the bunk beds. Simon was on the upper bunk, and Octavio was a little too short to look him right in the eye. He sneered at Simon.
“You can swallow my nut, Simon, but if you ever tell anyone, I will kick your ass!” he said. “¡Te voy a arrancar la polla!”
“She was right, you are a jerk!”
But Octavio didn’t register the words right away. He dropped his jockstrap, revealing a half-hard dick angrily throbbing, the veins in its shaft visibly pulsating even in the dim light of the dorm room. He was obviously very horny, Simon thought, which made Simon horny as well. He would greatly enjoy stroking, tasting and rubbing every inch of that awe-striking rod of man-meat.
“You are to say no? You do not want to do chack me off?”
“No! Well… I don’t have to. You shouldn’t take people for granted-“
“But you want to?”
Simon clamped his mouth shut. Saying no wouldn’t sound believable, he thought, so he simply said nothing.
Octavio sighed and flared his nostrils. He paced again, gave his dick a touch, then let go and glared at Simon. Then through gritted teeth, he said, “Will you please get me off? I know you want to…” His voice trailed off like he had wanted to add another insult but didn’t. He clucked his tongue against his teeth.
Simon slid off the edge of the bed, dropping to the floor, and Octavio scoffed like he was annoyed it had taken this long. Heart pounding, Simon moved one hand to grab Octavio’s dick, but Octavio gently pushed him down to his knees.
“C’mon… man… Put your mouf on it…” he said, again struggling to avoid insulting Simon. Simon was on his knees now, so close to Octavio he could smell the funk of his crotch and the floral bouquet of his girlfriend’s perfume, which clung to his skin. In the darkness, Simon could barely make out the silhouette of his cock, but the small portion he saw through the dimness was half-hard, throbbing and veiny, and the sight of it made Simon’s mouth water. Overhead, Octavio’s baritone boomed. “You’re my little pasivo now. You want it, I know it. You are having been looked at it many times. In the shower. You want it. You want me.”
He pushed his dick into Simon’s mouth. It tasted spicy and fresh, and a little like clean cotton from his jockstrap. The flavor reminded Simon of Latin food, the grass of the soccer pitch and the musty sweat scent that Simon caught a whiff of each time Octavio came back from practice exhausted. There was a certain sunniness to his flesh, like Simon could taste all the hours he had spent shirtlessly practicing in the Uruguayan sun.
His throat loosened as Octavio pushed his cock inexorably, but not violently, down. He grunted and moaned in half-articulated Spanish as he went, and his balls slapped against Simon’s chin. Simon’s hands fluttered at first, unsure if Octavio would allow him to touch his body.
He groaned as he fed his dick down Simon’s throat. He held onto Simon by the ear, grinding his dick as he pushed it ever deeper. Simon gripped his plump, muscular asscheeks and held on tight. Octavio’s ass was shockingly hairy for such a young man, the hairs were fine and soft, and his cheeks were firm yet juicy, jiggling beneath Simon’s fingertips.
There was a knock at the door. Simon gasped as Octavio pulled out. Octavio roared in frustration, then he seemed to consider it could be Mandy back again. He ran to the door and looked through the peephole.
“Octavio? Simon? Are you guys alright in there?”
It was Auden, the RA. He was an annoying Young-Republican taste of paste, a thick-thighed bespectacled business major who claimed to tolerate no tomfoolery but actually had such little authority he had no ability to prevent it. Nobody in the dorm liked him. He was mainly concerned with demonstrating his respect for diversity, enforcing rules was a second-order priority.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Octavio said through the shut door.
“Everything’s cool, Auden,” Simon said, his voice weak because he was desperate to get back on Octavio’s cock.
“It’s just… There was a lot of shouting just now. Are you sure everything’s okay? I can set up a conflict circle for tomorrow.” His voice was wavery like a weak string. “We should talk through-“
“Yes, it is okay now! We just have had a little disagreement,” Octavio said through flared nostrils. His dick pulsated in the darkness as it demanded more attention. Octavio opened the door all the way, boldly showing off his huge Hispanic prick, which was hard and dripping with precum and spit.
That made Simon suck in his breath. American men didn’t just flash their dicks in well-lit public areas like, apparently, Uruguayan men did.
The hallway outside the dorm room was quiet and dark aside from the emergency lighting that illuminated Auden. His portly body blocked the door way. “Uh… Oh…” Auden blushed. His fat cheeks jiggled, even when he wasn’t stumbling over any words. He stood there in the doorway, staring at Octavio’s cock. He was as mesmerized by it as Simon was, it seemed. Auden stumbled over his words. “Is… uh… your girlfriend still here?”
“I ain’t gotta tell you shit, esé,” Octavio said.
Auden backed up a few steps. “Okay, okay. I have great respect for the, uh… Uruguayan, uh… traditions, and uh… So, that’s — I’ll get that conflict circle set up-“
“No!” Simon cried out from the dorm room. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in this conversation. But Octavio seemed like he wasn’t going to argue about the conflict circle — Octavio had a coach and practice to use as an excuse, Simon had nothing and would have to talk to Auden about the conflict circle if he didn’t nip that it in the bud right now. “There’s no conflict, Auden. It’s fine. We don’t need a conflict circle!”
“Okay, it’s just, uh, reconciliation, and we need to solve-“
“I am closing the door now. It is a Uruguayan tradition,” said Octavio. He slammed the door in Auden’s face.
Outside the doorway, Auden’s voice could still be heard. “Uh, yeah, okay then… Just keep it down, Octavio.” He paused. “And Simon.”
Octavio’s hardon had almost diminished. But he muttered to himself, stroking it back to erection as he returned to Simon and slapped him over the face with his cock. Simon opened his mouth, and Octavio pushed his dick back down Simon’s throat, still muttering in Spanish about Auden. His dick was now as hard as it had been before the interruption, and he slammed it right down Simon’s throat.
“Swallow it, pasivo, yeah…” Octavio said, and he seemed to be going out of his way to be even louder just to prove he could, to prove that Auden meant nothing to him. He even situated himself towards the doorway as though Auden would be aware that Octavio’s anger was aimed at him.
Soon precum dripped down Simon’s throat again. It was salty and sweet, and it made Simon moaned with desire around the cockmeat in his throat. Octavio’s thick fingers rubbed Simon’s face and neck as he worked his dick all the way down Simon’s spasming gullet.
Then, without warning, Octavio pulled out. He pushed Simon onto his belly on the bed, and rammed his pinkie finger into his ass. He screwed up his nose as though he didn’t want to do it, even as he continued fingering Simon right in the ass. Pressure, pain, bliss and discomfort all hit Simon at the same time.
“Oh, hell… Octavio…” Simon’s voice broke. He threw his head back and moaned. He was on Octavio’s bed now, and he smelled both Mandy’s perfume and Octavio’s manly funk, his sweat, his socks and feet, the pillow he slept on every night, his unwashed sheets. Mandy’s perfume faded to the back of Simon’s mind.
All that mattered right now was Octavio’s youthful aroma and that fat cock, which Simon reached for even as Octavio moved both him and Simon into position. Into position for what? Simon didn’t know, but he was eager to find out.
“I want to stick it in you, americano,” he said breathlessly as he mounted Simon from behind. He didn’t put his dick in yet, just slid it hotly between Simon’s cheeks, and it pulsated there on Simon’s asscrack, as though it was massaging his sensitive hole. It sent waves of sensation through Simon’s body. He spoke right into Simon’s ear. “C’mon, you be my pasivo?”
“What does that mean?” Simon asked, his voice wavering and soft like Mandy’s had been (before she got salty).
“It means I get to stick my dick in ya culo when my girl won’t put out. I’ll be real gentle, promise…” he whispered, like he was embarrassed about it. “You will want it.”
“Oh, well… I guess, I…” Simon said. His heart pounded.
He had no sooner closed his mouth when Octavio pushed his dick in. A tight pressure erupted in Simon’s ass, and he clenched. Octavio had a tube of lube though, and he squeezed some out. Was Octavio planning on talking his girl into accepting anal sex tonight? That seemed hard to believe, but he was just cocky enough to try it.
Or maybe his dick was so big he needed lube for vaginal sex. Simon was a virgin and had no idea if that was normal or not.
Pangs of pleasure erupted in Simon’s sensitive ass, and he gripped the bunk bed tightly. Simon bit his lip to suppress a moan, not wanting Auden to interfere again, even as exquisite feelings ricocheted around in Simon’s body. It felt so good Simon’s whole body tensed and wrenched, and he slammed his head on the pillow underneath.
As Octavio worked his dick in deeper and deeper he moaned into Simon’s ear. He even kissed him on the cheek, then pulled away as though he hadn’t realized what he was doing. As he kept going, however, drilling his hard cock in deeper and deeper, his awkward kissing moved from Simon’s cheek to his lips. He even plunged his tongue into Simon’s mouth.
“I am a machote, you know what that means?” Octavio said when he pulled away from Simon’s lips. He wrapped his arms around Simon’s body as though holding him in place. He growled. “You want me to slam you like I should? An hombre should make his pasivo hurt, y’know. Mi papi always say a pasivo should be crying, that way he knows he is no real man.”
“Yes, oh god yes, Octavio,” Simon said, gasping for air as he was squeezed by Octavio’s muscles. Octavio’s dick, perfectly still, throbbed in Simon’s ass. He didn’t understand and wasn’t listening to Octavio’s words.
“Now take it, puta,” he said. He drove his dick in and out so hard and so quick that Simon gasped, not even able to concentrate enough to scream.
Then Octavio rolled him and Simon over onto their sides. He kept Simon’s chest in a tight hold, and he wrapped his feet around Simon’s ankles to hold him in position. Simon was wedged between Octavio’s lithe soccer-toned chest and the dorm room wall. He wondered if their neighbors would be able to hear. It seemed hard to believe there were two people sleeping maybe five feet from this spot and they didn’t know what incredible things were happening here.
He rammed his dick in and out, pushing the entire length of it, then pulling it almost all the way out, so just the tip remained, just enough to keep Simon’s attention focused on the pressure and pleasure in his ass. He moaned and bit his lip to avoid being too loud.
“Mi papi also teach me another rule,” he said, his voice suddenly low and soft. He kissed Simon on the cheek. “He say it should hurt, but it should also feel good. An hombre should give a reacharound.” His accent was growing thicker now, the more passionate he had become. “If he did his submission like a good pasivo should…”
His hand crept gingerly around Simon’s body, then wrapped around his cockshaft. Octavio moaned as though it was disgusting to him, but he gave it a few strokes all the same. That made a potent tenderness erupt in Simon’s cock, which spewed precum like water from a hose.
Soon Octavio had a good rhythm going. He used one arm to hold Simon into position, while his other hand jacked Simon off and his dick pounded in and out of Simon’s ass. He snorted like a bull as he humped, and Simon was totally immobilized, melting into Octavio’s powerful muscles, which squeezed and rippled and rubbed against the smoothness of Simon’s back.
“I’m going to fill you up. Don’t spill, that’s disrespectful to an hombre,” Octavio said. He sniffled as he drenched kisses on Simon’s back. “Okay, gringo? You promise you will not spill?”
“I promise…” Simon said, groaning as his own orgasm approached.
Octavio hit his climax first. He paused with his dick balls-deep in Simon’s ass, then gasped. Hot cum spread within Simon, who moaned loudly as it spread to every corner of his insides.
As he nutted within Simon, Octavio stopped stroking him off. Pleasure pounded through Simon’s veins. Then he squirmed, desperate to get himself off. His movement made Octavio’s dick twitch, and Octavio’s whole body writhed atop Simon.
And then Octavio resumed stroking. His limpening dick remained in Simon’s ass, even as his muscles all tightened and he groaned loudly.
It was only a minute or two later that Simon’s own orgasm overwhelmed him. He bit the pillow to avoid screaming, then rolled his head back and buried his face in Octavio’s hairy armpits. He grunted and groaned into Octavio’s body as cum sprayed over his chest and belly.
He didn’t know how long he lay there in Octavio’s arms. He would have gladly slept in exactly that position, but after what felt like forever, Octavio moved. He sopped up all the cum that had coated Octavio’s hand and Simon’s chest. Octavio gathered all of it up in one hand, his snorting disgust making it sound like he was being forced to do so, even though Simon hadn’t even asked him to.
Then Octavio held up his cum-dripping hand. He showed it to Simon, then very slowly pushed each finger into Simon’s mouth.
“Yeah, eat that nut, slut… You gettin’ nasty…”
Simon had always loved the taste of cum, but he’d only ever tasted his own. He also enjoyed sucking on Octavio’s fingers, which tasted of leather and grass, like what he imagined sucking on a soccer ball was like. Octavio moaned too, as though Simon’s sucking on his fingers caused him intense pleasure.
Then he finally pulled his limp cock out. He kissed Simon on the lips again and wrinkled his nose at the salty taste of cum. That didn’t stop him from pushing his tongue into Simon’s mouth and licking up all the semen that stuck to the inside of his mouth.
“Are we gonna do this again?” Simon asked.
He grunted in a negative way but paused before answering. “Probably,” he said. “But only at night. Don’t try to touch me during the day, and don’t tell no one about this. I’ll kick your fucking ass to pieces, puta.”
“Okay,” Simon said. He crawled out of the bed but Octavio stopped him. He dragged him back to where he was, ensconced in Octavio’s muscular limbs.
“Don’t go,” he said. “I wanna sleep with someone.”
Simon blushed, shocked that Octavio would do this. His heart pounded, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep. He wanted to lay here and lick those caramel biceps all night, but he knew Octavio would kick him out if he squirmed. So he lay still as Octavio drifted off to sleep.
“You better get out when the sun comes up, pasivo,” was the last thing Octavio said. “I don’t wanna see you in my bed in the light.”
“Okay,” Simon said. “Mi hombre. I’ll get up early.” He cuddled up closer to Octavio’s muscular chest, which exuded solidity and warmth. When he was sure Octavio was asleep, Simon arranged their bodies so that Octavio’s hot dick throbbed in Simon’s sscrack and his powerful arms wrapped around Simon’s body. In that position, Simon drifted into the most comfortable sleep of his life.

The Gangbanger

Rico is temporarily homeless, but luckily his gang gives him a place to stay… but he’s got a roommate. His name is Thumper, and he’s an old head, an ex-con and a booty bandit to boot! Can Rico satisfy his new roommate’s unbridled desires?!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rico walked into the Cityside Barbershop. Heart thumping, he carried with him virtually all of his belongings in a trash bag. He hoped nobody who saw him knew that. He tried to look cocky. The people in the barbershop — barbers and customers — looked at him like they knew what was up, like they could tell at a glance what he was: homeless.
He tried not to think of himself as homeless, even though he knew that’s precisely what he was.
He had money. Not quite enough to rent a nice place, but he might have been able to get a cheap room somewhere. The downside to that was that he wouldn’t be able to afford to save up enough to afford somewhere nicer. His stepdad kicking him out without warning had really put a damper on things.
The last couple months had been rough for Rico. After losing two ounces of heroin, he was in trouble with his boss in the Bloods, Thumper. Then his girlfriend dumped him, and now his stepfather had kicked him out as punishment for selling drugs. Everything was going wrong in Rico’s life. Six months ago he was the most respected gangbanger in the Bloods. Today, he was a hobo, considering whether he could squat above a barbershop for free. What time does a barbershop open in the morning? Probably early.
Avoiding eye contact, Rico went into the backroom. He had a feeling the customers and barbers at the Barbershop knew why he was carrying a trash bag into the back. He also knew that Thumper didn’t tell them, but they looked at him with a mixture of pity and scorn. They knew he was homeless.
Of course no one said anything. Everyone pretended to think Thumper was merely taking in a roommate half his age, rent-free. Which he was. There was just more to the story, and all them all knew it.
Behind the Cityside Barbershop was a staircase that led to an apartment on the second floor of the building. That was Thumper’s apartment. To be more precise, it was a Bloods apartment, and the Bloods let Thumper live in it because Thumper did thirty-four years for the Bloods. They owed him, and part of that was giving him a free apartment.
The catch was that Thumper had to share it with a young nigga now and then, which did not bother Thumper. It did bother Rico.
He heavyfooted into the apartment, a feeling dread spreading deep in his loins. Rico had the sinking feeling that this was adulthood, and he was soon going to wish he was a teenager again. High school was so simple, but so long ago. Thumper was in his forties, maybe older, which was ancient as far as Rico was concerned.
When Rico arrived, Thumper was in his living room, meeting with a few other gangbangers. As they all finished up Bloods business, Rico “moved in”, a process completed when he dropped his trash bag.
There was no spare bedroom, so Rico was sleeping on the couch. He was fine with that because he hoped it would spur him into finding a new place. He didn’t want to live here forever, like Thumper’s little butt-boy.
“Yo, Rico, come here and rap at us,” Thumper said, the meeting dwindling as the others left one by one. His voice was deep and tough, commanding respect. “We talkin’ ‘bout what to do regardin’ the Sweet Hill boys. Whatchoo think?”
“Well, I think we gotta beat them niggas down,” Rico said, more because he wanted to seem tough than because he had any particular knowledge of the situation. He was only vaguely aware that the Sweet Hill gang had begun selling crack on territory the Bloods considered to be their own.
“Alright, that’s a plan,” Thumper said. He smiled at Rico. “You get yo’ niggas together and do it this week, okay?”
Rico hadn’t thought he’d be put in charge of it, but he could hardly say no when Thumper was letting him stay here rent-free. He nodded as though it wasn’t going to be difficult. Some of the other thugs looked at Rico pitiably, and Rico tried not to notice.
Now the big problem Rico had was that he needed to find some niggas who were willing to put their lives at risk for a plan Rico hadn’t come up with yet to attack some unknown number of strangers somewhere in the city. Rico was going to struggle to put that crew together, and he wondered if Thumper had assigned him that role to see if he was up to snuff, if could actually put plans together. As a true blue gangbanger — or a true red gangbanger, as Rico liked to think of it — Rico very much thought of himself as capable of doing that.
But none of his friends would even let him sleep on their couch, so Rico had doubts he could get them to go in at the Sweet Hill boys guns blazing.
Thumper clapped his hands together as though the Sweet Hill problem was as good as solved, and the last few Bloods headed out the door. Rico’s mind raced as he tried to think of a way out of this. He shouldn’t have agreed to the Sweet Hill mission so readily. He didn’t even know where Sweet Hill was — Sweet Hill was the name of the shopping center with the CVS and the T-Mobile store. Was Rico supposed to gather a crew to go shoot up the T-Mobile store? He couldn’t very well ask Thumper now, could he? He’d already agreed to do it, he’d look like an idiot admitting only now that he didn’t know where the Sweet Hill boys were, who they were, how to hit them, how many they were, etc.
And no guns! Rico didn’t have any guns! He had a week to put together a crew, find out what and where the Sweet Hill boys are, find guns, go in shooting, succeed in intimidating them and dispose of the guns and perhaps dead bodies. Since he’d agreed to do it so confidently, if he succeeded — which he obviously wouldn’t — but if he succeeded, he’d barely get any credit for it. Thumper would just say ‘good job, you did what you said you’d do’.
He should have made a bigger deal out of how difficult it would be. Maybe he could have gotten Thumper to at least provide the guns.
Once the door shut, Rico was alone with Thumper for the first time ever — it hadn’t occurred to Rico until this moment that he had never been alone with Thumper. Thumper was one of the head honchos in the Bloods, but Rico had only ever spent time with him in a group.
Now he very much wished one of his niggas had let him sleep on the couch.
The apartment stayed silent once the others were gone. Rico gulped. Sweat beaded on his forehead because he sensed Thumper staring at him, evaluating him, maybe just seeing how long he’d take being stared at before he snapped. Thumper was like that. He be testing niggas.
“You ever mess around on the downlow, Rico?” Thumper asked after a long, awkward silence fell between them.
“Uh, yeah. Once,” Rico said. He instantly regretted saying that. It was true, but he had heard Thumper was often on the downlow with his close niggas — only for Thumper, “downlow” meant you serviced him, not any kind of reciprocal behavior. That wasn’t what Rico meant by it.
Rico looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact from Thumper.
After a long pause, Thumper raised his eyebrows. “Just once, huh? You do it with a nigga you respec’?”
“I guess so.” Rico didn’t know how to answer that. He did it with Kayshawn Henderson, who he didn’t really respect or get along with — they were just drunk — but he didn’t want to explain that to Thumper. Kayshawn wasn’t even a Blood. Plus it was downlow, which means secret. Thumper might be angry if Rico shared a secret, because Thumper trusted Rico not to spill the beans on Bloods business.
“Huh,” Thumper said with a knowing nod. He raised his eyebrows. Rico sighed. He winced. He got a very strong impression that Thumper wanted Rico to jerk him off.
Thumper was like that. After thirty-four years in prison, Thumper did not jack himself off. He saw it as demeaning. He often demanded niggas jack him off — with mouth! Swallowing! The whole nine yards! Rico could understand the impulse. He didn’t like jacking himself off either. It made him feel like an immature brat.
But he couldn’t bring himself to mouth Thumper off. Thumper was an old man by Rico’s standards. It would be humiliating. Thumper could get any random crackhead in this neighborhood to mouth him off.
Thumper crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating the softball-sized pecs beneath his tight t-shirt. He ran his tongue over his teeth and clucked. “Huh,” he said again.
“Thumper, I… Uh, thanks a lot fo’ lettin’ me stay here,” Rico said. His heart raced again. Just like when he was nervous those niggas in the barbershop would realize he was homeless, he was nervous now that all the niggas in the Bloods would hear about him jerking Thumper off.
Thumper nodded.
Rico sighed again. This wouldn’t be that bad, he thought, he’d done it before. A lot of Bloods had jerked Thumper off too — Thumper loved finding reasons to make a loyal Blood do it, like if they fucked something up. So nobody would be shocked to find out Rico did it. In fact, they’d probably assume he did, cuz Thumper seemed like the type to make his roommate jerk him off. He was precisely that kind of nigga, and Rico was too young and powerless in the organization to resist.
When Thumper had stood before him for what seemed like a long time, Rico sunk to his knees, afront the couch he was to sleep on tonight. Thumper seemed huge from down below him. Rico gulped.
At last that position made Thumper grunt out his satisfaction. He stood still, looming over Rico, who winced and wished there was another position to do it in — he could hardly make demands though — it would be less humiliating if Thumper sat on the couch and Rico could lay down on it or something like that. Any position in which Rico didn’t have to kneel like a beggar would be an improvement.
Rico waited for a moment, thinking Thumper would take his own dick out, but he didn’t. He just towered over Rico and watched. Rico winced at the realization that Thumper wanted Rico to take it out. That was prison bitch stuff, he thought.
Reaching up for Thumper’s dick, Rico shuddered. Then, much to his surprise, Thumper batted his hand away.
“You should ask a nigga fo’ permission befo’ you start stroking his dick,” Thumper said. “If that’s what you wanna do.”
Rico spoke quietly, blushing so hard his cheeks burned. “Thumper… do you want, uh…? I mean… is it okay, uh, if I jerk you off?”
“That’s a real nice offer, nigga. That’s a good gesture,” he said, as though it was the first time he had said that word and was unsure how to pronounce it. Before Rico could undo his belt, Thumper clucked his disapproval. “Play wit’ it through my pants first, nigga. Go slow, make it feel good.”
Rico blanched and winced. He gently stroked the bulge in Thumper’s dick, and for some reason just feeling that spongy flesh through his jeans made Rico gag. Thumper’s manhood stirred beneath the denim. He groaned in a way that made Rico shiver with disgust. He groaned like he was on the verge of orgasm, even though all Rico had done was touch his dickshaft through his jeans. Thumper wasn’t even hard.
He took Thumper’s belt in hand to undo it, but Thumper stopped him. He dragged Rico’s hand back to the bulge in his jeans. “No, don’t take my pants off,” Thumper said. “Just undo the fly and take it out. Look me in the eye when you jerk me off. That’s a mark of respec’, nigga.”
His hands trembled. Rico wasn’t sure if he could do that — stroking another man’s cock was humiliating enough, but looking Thumper in the eye while he did it would make it even worse. The zipper seemed impossibly loud, and when it was open, Rico got a burst of stale crotch sweat in his nostrils. He gagged again, and Thumper clucked with disapproval once more.
“You may take it out now, Rico,” Thumper said. Something in the way he said his name made Rico shudder all over again.
Rico had to reach in to pull out Thumper’s dick, which was still soft and veiny, dark brown like dirt, slick with sweat. He wanted to wipe it off, but Rico was sure Thumper would say that was disrespectful. The smell of unwashed ballsweat made Rico’s stomach churn.
That cock was huge. Rico knew Thumper had a big one, lots of niggas said so, but he had never seen it in person. It was a foot long even fully soft, and it was hot and slimy with sweat, so thick Rico could barely get his whole hand around it. It dangled afront Thumper’s crotch, and it swayed like a pendulum when Thumper moved.
Rico opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and he waited.
After a few seconds of nothing happening, Rico opened his eyes again. Thumper’s dick was still there, still limp, and seeing it made the smell of crotchsweat more potent, so Rico bit back a gag. That was when he looked up and saw Thumper’s furrowed brow aimed down at him. Rico gulped.
“Well? Put’cha mouth on it, nigga,” Thumper said. “Get’cha hands on it. Is you showin’ respec’ or not?”
“I am-“
“Then do somethin’ with it,” Thumper said. He put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows.
Rico touched it again, gently with one hand, which he then wrapped around the shaft. He grimaced. This was a lot easier with Kayshawn, he thought. Then they were drunk, having snuck booze into a church lock-in, and they were sharing a bed, the lights stayed off, they barely talked, it was more of an accidental fumbling thing than a real downlow “seduction” of any kind. By the time Rico pondered it, it was over with.
This felt entirely different. Thumper’s cock had that old-man smell too, with seemingly too much dickskin. Rico didn’t like how it roped around in his grasp as he stroked it gingerly, slowly, as badly as possible at first because he didn’t want a reputation for doing it good, then he realized the better his hands were, the less Thumper might demand he use his mouth, so Rico stroked it as good as he could. Thumper kept letting out little moans and pumping his hips as though so horny he couldn’t resist attempting at Rico’s mouth. Thumper’s dick stayed soft though, and he was obviously not that horny, he was just pretending.
“Hmm, you got a real pretty mouth, nigga,” Thumper murmured. “Put it on my dick.”
Rico winced, but he opened his mouth. He held onto Thumper’s cock by the root with one hand, and he moved his open mouth in that direction with his eyes scrunched shut. Thumper used both hands to guide Rico’s head until his mouth and nose collided with Thumper’s sweaty cockshaft.
A furious gag came outta Rico’s mouth as Thumper’s spongy limp dick touched his lips and then his tongue. There was already a slight cummy taste, either precum from Rico’s masturbating it through Thumper’s pants or maybe left over from something else. Maybe it was leftover from when he was “on the downlow” with some other nigga, Rico didn’t know how often a downlow gangbanger like Thumper would do that. Maybe lots. They said he was a booty bandit in prison.
Thumper kept his arms over his chest, so Rico had to chase his cock with his mouth. Every time the tip got in his mouth, he tasted sweaty old-nigga nastiness again, gagged and spat it out. Thumper wasn’t getting an erection like that.
But rico couldn’t quite bring himself to go any deeper than the tip. Even that felt impossibly thick, and Rico wasn’t sure he could go any farther. Thumper’s dick was thicker than his mouth.
“When you handle the dick of a nigga you respec’, Rico, you should deep-throat it,” Thumper said. “You know what that means? You evuh get head from a girl?”
“Yes!” Rico said, annoyed at Thumper’s patronizing tone.
“Don’t you talk to me like that, nigga,” Thumper said, his voice growly and threatening. Rico shuddered. Thumper forced his eyes open — Rico hadn’t even noticed he closed them — and sneered down at Rico. “Real niggas got backup plans, Rico, you know that? They ready to get kicked outta they place. They got cash.”
Rico wanted to defend himself, but when he tried to pull off Thumper’s dick, Thumper’s hands gripped his head and held it in place. Thumper growled again, and he pushed Rico’s head deeper onto his shaft. Rico gagged all over again as that cock pushed into his throat.
“Take my balls out wit’ one hand, and play wit’ em. Gentle-like,” Thumper said. He groaned as Rico did so, gingerly playing with his sweaty sac. The feel of that slick flesh made Rico’s stomach churn. His cock throbbed and grew warmer and warmer as it firmed up in Rico’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s nice, nigga. That’s respec’.”
The sour flavor of precum assaulted Rico’s senses, and brought tears to his eyes. He was glad it was dark enough in this room that Thumper couldn’t see — it wasn’t really crying anyway, he thought, it was tears from suffocation and stress, not being a pansy. He didn’t think Thumper would acknowledge a difference though.
The tasty of sweaty cockmeat grew more and more tolerable, though Rico thought that was mainly because he sucked up all the sweat and grime, replacing it with plain spit. The veiny shaft invaded his throat with each powerful thrust of Thumper’s cock.
The moist grunting of Thumper’s voice was offputting to Rico. He sounded like a rutting animal, and it reminded Rico that his mouth was just being used now. Thumper was going to continue to use his mouth and body — though hopefully not his ass — until Rico moved out. That was possibly the entire reason Thumper offered to let him stay here.
“Whatchoo plan wit’ my nut?” Thumper asked as he groaned.
Rico didn’t understand the question. He just looked up at Thumper, and tried to ignore that massive shaft drilling into his throat. All of a sudden, a burst of salty precum hit his tongue, and Rico gagged violently.
But Thumper kept a grip on his head. Rico tried to look down as he retched, only he couldn’t with Thumper’s hands on his head. All he could do was gag up around the erect cock bobbing around on his face, leaving a layer of precum that only made him gag again and again.
“Huh? I’m gonna blow my load,” Thumper said. “Whatchoo gonna do wit’ it? You want me to shoot it on yo’ face or what? In yo’ hand? You need a plan.”
Rico was glad to hear that he had a choice. He pulled off Thumper’s dick, intending to say in my hand, which was the least objectionable option. But then he saw Thumper’s scrunched-up face, and Rico knew this was a test. He wasn’t sure exactly what the answer was, but in my hand wasn’t it.
“Think long and hard, Rico. You got a lotta factors to consider. Yo’ respec’ fo’ me, if you got any,” Thumper said. He sniffled.
“I’ll… uh, swallow it,” Rico said, wincing as Thumper mollwopped his erection onto Rico’s face, smearing spit and precum all over it. He held his breath to avoid gagging.
“Yeah,” Thumper said. “You will. But befo’ that, I wanna see it. I like seeing it. Play’ wit’ it a bit.”
“Oh.”
“So whatchoo think?”
“I, uh… I guess I’ll do that.”
“So where you want me to nut? In yo’ mouth?”
It was obvious he wanted Rico to say yes, so he did so. Then Thumper pushed his cock back in Rico’s mouth. He grunted as he wrapped his hands behind Rico’s head.
He thrust his hips so powerfully his cockshaft pushed down Rico’s throat until his nose was nestled in Thumper’s pubic hair. Rico couldn’t even gag because his throat was so choked with throbbing dickmeat. All he could do was sit there on his knees and let it happen.
“That’s a good idea, Rico. I’ll shoot my load in yo’ mouth, just like you askin’ me to. That’s very respec’ful, nigga. Don’t swallow nothin’ till I tell you to, okay? We gonna play a bit first.”
Rico nodded, but even as he did, Thumper was blowing his wad. He shot it right in the back of Rico’s throat. Some of it dripped into his gullet, but Rico instinctively avoided swallowing it. He would have accidentally spilled it all but Thumper kept a tight grip on his head. Thumper grunted, rutting like a pig as his fat cock spasmed inside Rico.
At last it was over, and a burst of jizz spurted onto Rico’s tongue. Salty cum filled his mouth. It seemed like a huge amount, but Rico wasn’t sure how much was normal or how much it really was. His stomach churned with disgust, begging him to spit it out. The sour and salty flavor made his eyes water all over again, and he had to hold back a violent retch.
“Open up,” Thumper said, his voice wavering as another jet of cum hit Rico’s mouth. He kneeled down and looked in. “Come on,” he said. “It’s dark in here. I wanna see yo’ pretty-boy mouth.”
Gagging and holding onto his stomach, Rico managed to spread his lips without spilling any of the cum filling his mouth, as Thumper’s dicktip hovered over his face and spewed a few final drops onto his nose and upper lip. Thumper looked into his mouth as though trying to find something. He smiled with satisfaction, then spat right into it. The bitterness of his saliva made Rico choke. He nearly spilled but Thumper held him by the neck.
“That’s a big one,” Thumper said. He stuck one finger in, all the way back until Rico gagged. Then Thumper held the palm of his hand out until Rico spat the entire wad into it. Rico was glad to be rid of it, though he could still feel that snotty texture on his tongue. There was a pubic hair stuck in the back of his throat too, but he couldn’t spit it out right now.
Thumper raised his eyebrows as Rico got ahold of his stomach and his gagging. He kept that cum-filled palm right in front of Rico’s face, where the scent assaulted his nostrils, making it hard for Rico to regain his composure. Thumper cleared his throat. “I’ll ignore your gagging, Rico. That’s rude, but I understand…” It was obvious he wanted Rico to suck the cum back up, and he raised his eyebrows as though to say You better do it now, it’ll get worse when it’s cold. Rico opened his mouth, but Thumper cleared his throat and shook his head.
Rico blushed. “Uh… Thumper, can I eat your nut?”
“Yes, you may. Thank you for askin’, nigga.”
Rico gagged and nearly vomited as he sucked it off Thumper’s callused palm. He choked it down and waited there, blushing intensely as Thumper looked him in the eye. Then Thumper’s fingers forced his mouth open, and he checked that Rico had swallowed the whole thing. Rico felt that hot lump in his belly, the creamy texture and the sheer warmth of it suffusing into his flesh.
“Good,” he said. “Now go to sleep. Set yo’ alarm for seven o’clock, nigga. By seven-thirty, I want you wakin’ me up wit’ yo’ prettyboy mouth on my dick again. Have breakfast ready when you swallow my first nut of the day. You understand?”
“Yes, Thumper,” Rico said. He gulped. Remnants of jizz shone all over his mug. “I’ll do it.”
“I know. I ain’t ax fo’ yo’ agreement, Rico. I axt fo’ yo’ comprehension. Yo’ agreement is assumed,” Thumper said. He slapped his limp dick over Rico’s face again. “Don’t wipe that nut off yo’ face. I wanna see it dried on there in the morning.”