scenes featuring pitplay – Mansploitation

The Soldier

Avery is working the front desk at the legendary Night Along Motel when he runs into the soldier on leave Willie Redman. Willie is a redneck alpha willing to giving Avery a taste of his manhood, if Avery can take it…

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Every couple of weeks Avery’s job sucked. Normally he enjoyed it — a hotel clerk is a low-stress position, and with sales incentives he normally met, Avery could make pretty good money. It wasn’t what he wanted to do — own his own florist shop — but it paid the bills and came with its own perks.
About once a month, the guys from the local military base, Fort Rumblemore, had a weekend of leave. They often came to Avery’s hotel, and they were always drunk, rowdy and left a huge mess behind. Since they were price-sensitive, they almost never paid for anything from the minibar or anything on pay-per-view, so the hassle of dealing with them was not worth it to Avery.
But this night was especially bad for him. Not only did he have to deal with the Rumblemore boys getting drunk in their rooms before hitting the bars, he was depressed to begin with because his girlfriend Shawna dumped him. He had been upset but thought going to work might help — if he had known it was going to be an armyboys night, he would have called out sick for sure.
Finally the armymen all made their way out to the bars. A few drifted back over the next few hours, but they had females and went straight to their rooms. Their kissing was a little more risqué than Avery liked in his lobby, but he knew better than to ask them to stop. The best course of action was simply to let them go fuck their slut in their room and wait for them to check out in the morning.
The sound of frenzied rutting could be heard when he walked down the hall, emanating from their rooms. More than once an almost entirely naked soldier bumped into him as he drunkenly stumbled off to the ice machine, towel loosely draped around his waist. They stank of cum, and it made Avery so horny he wished he had a free moment to jack off in the bathroom.
Around midnight the last of them came back. He was Willie Redman, a Texan with the sunburnt shoulders of a real redneck, leaner than a lot of the soldiers but ropy with muscle and an elegant tattoo reading Texas-Made on his upper back. He had a loping gait like he was more comfortable astride a horse, and he sucked on his teeth in a friendly way when he nodded hello. He stopped in front of the desk.
“Can I help you, sir?” Avery asked.
“I… I don’t remembuh my room number,” he said.
“I’ll show you. Follow me, sir,” Avery said. He walked down the hall to his room, which was at the far end.
“Hey, hotel clerks know about…” He trailed off as though too embarrassed to go on. “Women? Like… Women that I can… fuck?”
Willie was not the first soldier to ask him this. “No,” Avery said. “I don’t know any prostitutes. I don’t know much about women at all. Sorry.” In truth, he did know of some prostitutes, but he knew better than to get involved — he could be charged as a pimp if the police found out, which was a felony sex crime, worse than either being or hiring a prostitute.
And Avery had no desire to hook handsome soldiers up with women. Avery had other plans for the hunky soldier in front of him.
They were in front of Willie’s door. Willie blanched and said, “I struck out tonight. I was really hoping to get laid. I only got tonight. Tomorrow I ship out to Iraq.”
Avery opened the hotel room door and held it open for him. Willie’s muscles throbbed underneath his sleeveless t-shirt (no wonder he struck out, Avery thought, women don’t normally go for the rough redneck on leave look).
Willie stepped through the threshold, then turned around. “Hey,” he said, “Do you… You can say no, it ain’t a big deal, but do you… Wanna swallow my dick?”
Avery was so surprised he didn’t have a response, but in truth he thought Willie’s redneck soldier look was so arousing he could barely control himself. He wanted nothing more than to taste his dick. He wasn’t expecting this to be so easy. Usually men require a little persuasion. “Yes,” Avery said. He followed him into the room. That was easier than he was expecting.
Soldiers were like that though. They just wanna get their dick wet.
“I never done this before,” Willie said as he sat on the edge of his bed. His head lolled on his shoulders as though he was already half-passed out.
Avery knelt in front of him and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
He undid Willie’s camo pants, revealing those olive-green PT shorts. They were a little small, so Willie’s bulging cock and balls were readily apparent, straining against the fabric.
Willie let out an awkward moan and looked away. The smell of liquor on his breath was strong, and stale, drunken sweat wafted into Avery’s nostrils as he got started.
He licked Willie’s crotch through his underwear, tasting the salty cotton flavor. Willie laughed a little as though surprised. He leaned back on the bed, keeping his hands up by his head like he was frightened he might accidentally touch Avery.
Avery fished his cock out through the fly of his boxers, and he licked it from tip to root. It had a ruddy quality, and a well-worn thickness that reminded Avery of Willie’s redneck swagger.
His dick got hard right away despite the awkwardness of the situation and Willie’s rather advanced drunkenness. His thick shaft pulsated hotly and leaked precum down Avery’s throat.
It had all happened so fast that Avery was only just then realizing how much trouble he could get in. He was supposed to be working, and consorting with customers in their rooms was strictly forbidden.
But Willie was oblivious to any risk. He grunted as he neared orgasm already, and his balls lifted up in his sac. His eyes closed, then opened wide, then closed again. Avery worked on Willie’s nipples with one hand, using the other to stimulate his shaft.
“You gonna swallow?” Willie mumbled. Asking was a polite gesture, Avery thought, but Willie asked too late for it to matter. Before he even finished asking, cum was spurting down Avery’s throat.
He shot a huge load with a nice thickness that coated Avery’s gullet. He moaned at the savory, salty taste flooding his senses. It was intense, and Avery loved it, swallowing it but letting it fill his mouth first, so it would overflow and coat Willie’s cock and Avery could slurp it all in again. That slurping made Willie’s whole body shake because it extended his orgasm. As long as Avery worked on his cum-dribbling shaft, Willie moaned and groaned, hands fluttering uselessly above his head.
Avery kept on Willie’s sensitive shaft until he was drunkenly pulled off. Willie was already half-asleep, it seemed, and Avery wiped his dick off with a tissue before leaving. He couldn’t resist spending a moment to fondle Willie’s tight pectoral muscles and perfectly round ass, savoring their well-sculpted feel.
But that was it. Avery assumed that when this was over, it was over. Rough trade was usually that way. Willie was a beautiful sight, sprawled out there on the bed, sleeping it off. But like all beautiful things, it wasn’t going to last.
After spending the night with Willie, Avery moved on. He didn’t think there was any chance Willie would return. He wasn’t even stationed at Rumblemore, he was told by some of the other soldiers, Willie had been assigned to a classified mission and may never return to the area. The other soldiers all pretended they knew where he was and couldn’t say, but Avery was certain they didn’t know and just wanted to seem “in-the-loop”.
He resigned himself to the probability that he would never see Willie again. Avery couldn’t feel too bummed out about it. That was part of this industry, and in any case, Avery enjoyed that he met a variety of men in this job.
But then Willie did return. He came back a couple months later.
He was in the waiting room when Avery strode in, not noticing him at first. Willie stood straight and erect at the check-in counter, while Avery gave an elderly tourist couple their room key. Avery’s hands started shaking when he saw who it was. Memories of that fantastic cock filled Avery’s mind.
“Hey,” he said when he stepped forward. Willie wore only a white sleeveless t-shirt, one whose sleeves he had obviously ripped off. His strapping chest was visible from the sides. He carried a ratty old backpack slung over his shoulder. His voice was clipped and curt, as though he was either addressing a superior officer or was controlling his emotions. “I… Look, I remember what happened before, and…”
His voice trailed off. Avery’s heart started pounding just like the first time. He was surprised Willie remembered considering how drunk he had been. He had seemed blackout-drunk at the time, Avery thought. Willie bit his lip nervously.
“You wanna do it again?” Avery said, trying to hide the shock in his voice.
“My girl dumped me. I decided not to re-enlist in the Army so we could be together, and she dumped me as soon as I made it official,” Willie said, blushing so hard his cheeks matched his shoulders. “I don’t wanna try to find some slut… I mean, a female slut… I need to get my rocks off. And I’m sick of chicks right now.”
Avery smiled at his awkwardness. “Well, my boss is in right now. I have to stay up here at the desk until he’s gone,” Avery said. “But go on to your room. I’ll be there in a bit. He’s gonna go home soon, his wife has been nagging him about leaving earlier. I’ll remind him and get him out as soon as I can.”
Willie sighed in relief. He must have thought he might get in trouble, Avery thought. Willie’s muscles relaxed, and for a moment, Avery caught Willie’s musk hidden by cheap deodorant (or possibly not, Avery thought, it smelled like he had rubbed a car air freshener over his pits, that was a typical soldier move). Willie nodded as though he had been given an order, then grabbed his crotch — it looked like he was already getting hard. He sniffed at his pits. “I need to grab a shower…”
Avery blurted out, “No!” Then he blushed. “I mean, if you want to… But I wouldn’t mind, y’know, if you stank a little.”
Willie looked at him in disgust, then sighed and nodded as though he was compromising. “Okay, just come in when you can.” He did not understand people some times. Who wants a stinky man?
The rest of Avery’s shift was impossibly long. His boss was hanging around the office for even longer than usualy, and though Avery reminded him that his wife had been begging him to come home earlier, he only grunted and returned to his paperwork. It was too risky to be caught away from the front desk when Avery’s boss could leave his office anytime. Avery had been caught away from the front desk before. He couldn’t afford to do it again.
But he only had an hour and a half left on his shift, so he forced himself to wait it out no matter how arduously long it felt. Now that he knew he’d be with Willie when he get off, he couldn’t wait. He was virtually salivating at the opportunity, and he had to rearrange his pants to hide a boner several times.
Finally, just ten minutes before Avery’s shift was up anyway, his boss got a text from his wife that he couldn’t ignore, and he ran to his car so quick he had to come back to get his keys. Avery waited until he had driven away.
Then Avery knocked on Willie’s door. He heard him scamper to open it. Avery smiled. Willie must be very horny, he thought, he’s been waiting for me with baited breath.
Willie filled out the doorway, his muscular body barely fitting in it as he let Avery in. He was wearing nothing but his green PT shorts, his enormous cock bulging out of it as though he was about to burst. His whole body was dappled with sweat, and Avery saw one of those stretching arm exercise tools laying on the bed.
“I am so fucking horny,” Willie said and sighed. His muscles rippled, and his cock twitched in his boxers. “It’s been almost a week since I got my nut off. I decided to get my exercise in, is that okay? You sure you don’t want me to shower first?”
Avery didn’t even bother answering, he just dropped down and attacked Willie’s chest with his mouth. He licked every drop of salty sweat off his pecs, played with his nipples until Willie bristled with discomfort, then moved into his pits. He dived into Willie’s right armpit and sucked the sweat off his kinky black hair.
That all began so quick Willie gasped. Willie had to reach over Avery’s kneeling body to shut the door behind him.
Willie made a muffled revolted sound and twisted his torso as he gasped at the sensations roiling his body, then relented. He sneered down at Avery, who moved onto his left armpit and bicep. “You like armpits? I ain’t know any dudes was into that,” he said.
“Oh god yes,” Avery said.
“Does suckin’ armpits make yo’ own dick bigger?” Willie asked. That was the only reason that made sense for a man to do something like this. Willie wasn’t sure he believed that the sweat and jizz of a muscular man made other men stronger or tougher if they ingested it, but he assumed that was what Avery believed.
Avery nodded. He did not believe in that anymore than Willie did, but it was simpler to say he did believe it than to explain that he simply liked the odor and flavor of a man’s body.
“Thanks for not telling any of the other Army fellahs about this,” Willie said. “I never thought I’d do something like this. Definitely not a second time. I ain’t even drunk.”
Avery licked down Willie’s flat stomach to his crotch, and pulled down those stale green shorts. They smelled like a locker room, like he had kept them in the onbase gym and rarely bothered washing them. Willie’s long cock was rock-hard, reaching almost to his belly-button, pulsating, virtually begging Avery to deep-throat it right away.
Lifting Willie’s legs up as he laid on the bed, Avery swallowed both of Willie’s balls at once and suckled on them loudly. The gargling sound made Willie laugh nervously.
He moved on to Willie’s sweaty taint, his thick brownish-blond hairs plastered to his skin by stale man-musk. Avery licked every inch of it, from his thigh to his lower buttcrack. Willie’s whole body shook with intense, surprised pleasure, as Avery darted onto his cocktip and slurped on it.
Avery worked down his shaft, licking off every drop of musty sweat. He moaned, but stopped himself as Willie stiffened — apparently getting awkward because the sound of Avery’s moan reminded him he was not with a woman. He didn’t want to make this uncomfortable for Willie.
Willie said, “In Iraq, fellahs nearly all let guys get them off. As long as nobody finds out, they’re okay with it. They just pretend it didn’t happen.”
“We can pretend that too,” Avery said, hoping Willie would make this a regular event.
“They all think men are best at swallowing cock,” Willie said. “They all deepthroat. They have bigger mouths than women. That’s what this one Arab told me.”
Was that a not-so-subtle hint that he wanted Avery to go deeper? He thought so, and he was glad to try. He took a deep breath and pushed down on Willie’s shaft, getting most of his meat down his throat.
Willie grunted and stood. His knees buckled weakly but he remained upright, and wrapped both hands around Avery’s head. He began slowly working his hips back and forth, pushing his cock deep into Avery’s throat.
Avery took one of Willie’s hands and moved it to his nose, showing him how to pinch his nostrils shut. As soon as he did, Avery’s throat opened as his lungs gasped for air.
Willie closed his eyes as his cock slid the rest of the way in. Avery could feel it pulsating against his vocal cords and could feel the precum sticking to his stomach.
Avery stroked Willie’s heavy, pendulous balls just as they rose up in his sac. Moments later cum flooded Avery’s belly, filling him up inside. Avery groaned and came as well, shooting a load into his pants.
“Thanks a lot,” Willie said as he leaned back onto the bed. His moist cock plopped out of Avery’s gasping mouth. “This is a great hotel.”
Avery nodded and smiled. He left Willie there, naked and gleaming with post-sex sweat. He hoped to see him again in the morning.
But when he went back to the room, Willie was gone. Once again, he disappeared for a little while. Yet again, Avery tried to tell himself not to get his hopes up, not to lose sleep wondering if Willie would get desperate again. He was so hot, surely he could get some real pussy once he got his head right.
A few weeks later, however, Willie surprised Avery by coming back. He showed up near the end of Avery’s shift, his beard scruffy, wearing only a torn tank-top and scuffed jeans. His tanned muscles were lined with new tattoos: barbed wire, kanji characters and an ornate heraldic lion on his chest.
“Come on,” he said, no pretense of asking if Avery wanted to. He gestured down the hall towards the cheap rooms.
Avery showed him to a room he knew would remain empty. His heart thumped in his chest once again, as he felt Willie’s eyes checking out his body. He wondered if he could get some anal from Willie tonight.
“You’re still single?” Avery asked.
“I used to be able to get girls,” Willie nodded. “But not anymore. Is there something wrong with me?”
“No!” Avery blurted out, then blushed as he realized he sounded like a lovestruck teenager again. “You’re perfect! I mean… You have a perfect body.”
Avery showed him to a room and opened the door for him. He hesitated before going in.
“Whose room is this?”
Avery shrugged and said, “No one. No one rented it. The cable’s broken so it’s closed until the repair guy comes tomorrow.” He shut the door behind them. “So we got it to ourselves all night.”
He sat down on the bed. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”
“What? Of course I want to,” Avery said. Willie looked like he was on the verge of tears, so Avery sat next to him, not sure if it would seem too weird for him to hug. “If you don’t-“
“What’s wrong with me?”
“What? Nothing… You’re just having a dry spell, man. A guy who looks like you will be able to get laid again,” he said. “Ever since they closed down that state college campus extension on the other side of town, there hasn’t been as many hot young chicks around. You’re not the first man to notice that.”
“No… That’s not what I mean, I-” Willie stopped as though he only just processed what Avery had said, “Oh really? That explains a lot. But that’s still not really what I meant. I think I’m broken.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain. Ever since I got out of the Army, I haven’t been right. I started crying yesterday for no reason,” he said, then blushed and stopped talking.
Avery rubbed his biceps in a way he hoped was both comforting and arousing. He didn’t want to seem insensitive, but he was ready to get on to the sex. One of his hands snaked underneath Willie’s torn t-shirt, fondling his tightly toned chest.
“You’re probably just having trouble adjusting to civilian life,” Avery said. “It’ll pass, baby.”
“You think? I… I think I have PTSD. Do you know what that is?”
Avery nodded.
“I have flashbacks to… some difficult things,” he said.
“You need some good experiences to balance out the bad,” Avery said. He reached into Willie’s crotch and stroked his dick through his jeans.
“Yeah… I guess so.”
Avery took that as assent and kneeled to take his dick in his mouth. Willie shucked his pants to his ankle, and his cock stood straight out the fly of his boxers.
Avery licked his dick, which tasted clean and soapy this time, with a deliciously funky smell to it. He let his tongue run up and down Willie’s pulsating ruddy shaft.
“I need to be inside you,” Willie said suddenly. He stood up and carefully removed his dick from Avery’s mouth.
“You mean… my butt?”
Willie nodded. “Yeah, sorry, I just assumed you’d be into that. Is that cool?” Even as he spoke, he pulled down Avery’s black uniform slacks and his underwear. He lightly slapped Avery’s asscheeks and spat into his hand, rubbing it into his cockshaft.
“Of course I’m into it, stick it in,” Avery said and cooed. He pressed his ass back onto Willie’s hot, moist cock.
Willie lined his dick up with Avery’s ass, then stopped himself. “No, Jesus don’t allow it. It’s in the Bible.” But he didn’t move away, he just kept his dick right at the entrance to Avery’s ass.
“Jesus doesn’t care, baby, as long as you don’t hurt anyone,” Avery said. He pushed his ass back onto Willie’s dick, sliding it up and down and savoring the feel of its hot thickness between his cheeks. “My ass wants you so bad.”
“I guess you’re right,” Willie said. It sounded like he was talking himself into it. “Less sinful than fornicatin’ with a woman in the ass, right?”
“That’s right. Less sinful, but a hundred times better,” Avery said.
Willie plunged into Avery’s ass, jabbing it right in. That sent a shockwave of pain through Avery’s spine, followed by a burst of pleasure. Willie had a huge cock that barely fit, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kept ramming more and more in.
“Is this how you fuck girls?” Avery asked. His voice was strained and breathless as he struggled to take every inch of Willie’s manhood.
Willie said yes but he was so horny it was barely intelligible. He sounded embarrassed by the question.
“You gotta go slow, baby. Work up to really slamming it in,” Avery said. He reached behind himself and gripped Willie’s cock. He worked it in himself.
“Like this?”
That felt a lot better, Avery thought and he told Willie so. “Focus on touching every inch of me.”
“What? My dick touches you-“
“I know it doesn’t really make sense, just focus on each piece of me. I love how your cock feels, baby,” Avery said, cooing as girl-like as he could muster. “Make me feel every inch of it. Girls don’t like it rough, Willie, you gotta be nice about it.”
As he worked back up to ramming and jamming into Avery’s ass, Willie groaned. He leaned over Avery’s body, his powerful, corded muscles writhing against Avery’s back.
“Here it comes, baby, here it comes,” Willie said.
Avery shot his own load onto the couch beneath him, just as he felt Willie cum as well. Hot semen flooded inside him, and dripped down his inner thighs. Neither of them moved at first, Avery savoring the feeling of hot cum covering his lower half and Willie’s wide muscles relaxing as his dick softened.
“Thanks for the lesson,” Willie said. His limp cock plopped out of Avery’s ass.
Avery grinned. “It’ll take more practice,” he said. “But we can keep working on it. I won’t give up on you.”

The Sailor’s Armpits

Rob loves raunchy men, so when he goes to the docks, it’s time to worship the sweat-soaked filth of a Greek sailor’s unwashed armpits! Can Rob handle the raunch?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum.” Rob stood dockside as men streamed off the S.S. Admiral Smikovsk. They were a diverse group of men: Jamaicans, Brazilians, Greeks, Filipinos, Nigerians, Nicaraguans, probably more, but Rob most expected those nationalities based on his inspection of the ship’s manifest. They were deliciously filthy, with blackish smudges of soot and coal on their skin, unwashed beards from weeks at sea, most of them with half-hardons from the moment they walked off the ship.
The reason most of them had hardons was the same reason Rob found it difficult to get the men he wanted — they were macho, and there were women galore.
“Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum. Swallow your cum. Eat your ass.” Rob made eye contact with as many of them as he could. They mostly winced and looked away.
“Hey. Hey, whatcha doin’?” said a stout man with a colorful hat and a dour disposition. Rob didn’t need to be an expert to identify him as a pimp. The pimp scowled at him. “You bein’ a distraction, boy.” He sucked on his teeth. His New Jersey stawk was thick and cloying, like he spoke through a layer of engine oil. “My girls is busy, y’know, ya feel me, boy? They lookin’ for a man. That’s all. They need a date for tonight, and maybe tomorrow night too. Ya feel me, boy? I bet you do.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. “Nobody’s taken me up on it, so I don’t think I’ve stolen any of your clients-“
“What’d I just fuckin’ say? Huh? Did I say you was distracting they clients? That ain’t even… They don’t see clients, okay, they are serious ladies, doing serious things… with their boyfriends, understand me? They’s out here looking for boyfriends, and sometimes, they just might find one. Ain’t nothin’ improper goin’ on here. What I accused you of, however, that’s improper — I said you was bein’ distracting. Girls is distracted real easy. It’s them tits, it keeps ’em from gettin’ focused. That’s why men with big chests is dumbasses too, and that’s a fact. I know you ain’t gonna steal none of my girls’s boyfriend. That’s on account of these men don’t cotton to perverts, and my girls know how to satisfy a man. Ya understand me?”
“Uh-huh. I see your point,” Rob said.
“You wanna work for me? I can help you find dick,” the pimp said with a frown like he really hoped Rob would say no.
“No, thank you. I’m very good at that already.”
“Thank god,” the pimp said. “Look, you had best get the fuck off my dock. My girls work here-“
“But I’m not stealing your business-“
“You is stealin’ my girls’s hearts! They ain’t gonna be so eager to find new boyfriends when they see you offerin’ to get on ya knees for nothin’. It’s discouraging to my girls’s capitalistic spirit, ya feel me?”
“I guess…” Rob gulped. This pimp scared him. Rob mumbled an apology and walked away. He entered the crowd of men walking away from the dock. The lanky Latino walking past him had a visible hardon bulging against the fabric of his sailor’s bellbottoms. He popped the low collar of his shirt. The Latino was already touching his dick through his pants as he approached the rather trashy women calling for him on land.
“Swallow your cum?” Rob said, but the Latino completely ignored him. He took his dick out, said something in Spanish and disappeared among the prostitutes. His cock hung free as he raced to take out the wad of cash in his pocket. Rob watched it dangle and twitch, getting hard, the foreskin slowly retracting as the Latino stroked it.
The docks were amazing. Rob didn’t want to leave without seeing the docks, and to bathe in the glorious hunks who filled it with their muscles and swagger and massive cocks. Men had poured out of the ship, hardons already evident — they knew there were girls waiting for them. The girls smiled and cooed, and blushed bashfully when the men kissed them and took out their cocks.
“Go’n, hoss!”
“Do it, Lyle!”
“Lyle, Lyle, Lyle!”
Lyle turned out to be a rather skinny young farmlad in an ill-fitting sailor’s uniform — obviously new to the merchant marine — who approached Rob with a nervous tremble. He gulped and went pale, fingers trembling as he let his massive dick flop out. He lowered his bellbottoms just enough to bare his crotch as he looked away, watching his friends instead of Rob.
His friends laughed so hard Rob couldn’t tell what was going on. Obviously this was some sort of joke or prank, or a hazing episode. Rob touched Lyle’s cock, which twitched beneath his fingers, and then Lyle went running back to his buddies with his eyes opened wide.
“He did it!”
“You squeamish pansy! It’s just a goddamn finger!”
One of the older sailors with Lyle looked at Rob. “Go to prison, pervert! You’ll find plenty of men there.” Then they all walked away. Lyle’s cheeks were bright red. His friends clasped him on the back, and one of them even grabbed Lyle’s cock as a joke, making them all laugh.
Rob was left alone. The S.S. Admiral Smikovsk was empty of people now, presumably. Rob watched the prostitutes pair off (in some cases in larger ratios than pairs). It seemed so far that this dock was more difficult than he had thought.
It had seemed easy. Sailors loved to get a load off and needed money and weren’t usually too squeamish about man-on-man contact. That was perfect.
But those prostitutes… it was hard to get a man to swing downlow with a gaggle of beautiful women beckoning. Or at least somewhat attractive women, Rob thought, whose lack of attractiveness was equivalent to their willingness to fuck. He sighed and decided to go back to his hotel. It was run-down and nasty, crawling with trashy man who, Rob suspected, would be willing to let him swing on their meat for a little consideration. However, Rob didn’t want that. He was here to get a taste of a raunchy sailor. What was the point of visiting a port city if not to jerk off some sailors?
Maybe, he thought, he should find a bar frequented by sailors. Whoever was unable or unwilling to find/pay a female would still be there late at night, and Rob might be able to get a taste of sailor meat then. Of course they’d be drunk, which was disappointing — Rob preferred his men fully conscious.
He turned around, but then stopped because he heard shouting from onboard the ship. The only word he could hear clearly was fuck, but there were definitely other insults, some of which were not in English.
Then two men were visible, and Rob’s knees went weak. One of them — presumably the captain — was a stout older man with an unappealing beard. Rob ignored him and zeroed in on the second man.
He was Nikos — Rob got that from the shouting — and he was the strongest sailor Rob had seen yet. He was tall and broad-shouldered, Greek with swarthy skin the color of toasted grain and an intensely hooked nose, a square jaw like a warrior, and so much body hair his sailor’s uniform barely fit. The fur poked out the wide collar. He was muscular but not big, and he walked with a heavy gait, like his boots were cast-iron.
He was utterly filthy. Rob had no idea why, but would soon learn that Nikos had snuck a rather large amount of alcohol onboard at the last port, and had been selling it at rather exorbitant prices to the other sailors. He had been punished by being sent to shovel coal for the last few days, and at such a feverish work-schedule that he didn’t bathe during that time.
So his clothes were plastered to his skin with sweat, and smudges of black coal dust and soot splattered over and stained much of his face. His clothes appeared to be more clean of coal — presumably he had dug coal naked, or at least in different clothes than these, but wearing them over his foul body had soaked them in sweat and dirt.
“You no-good pissant! When you come back, I’ll search you so good I will tickle your tonsils from behind! If you ever try to sneak that shit on my ship again, I swear to Christ, Nikos-!”
That was all Rob heard because Nikos turned around and exploded in anger as well. He shouted in Greek, fingers running through his dense, tangled mat of black curls. He made some sort of rude gesture that Rob didn’t understand. It wasn’t clear who he shouted at, as the port crawled with sailors, laughing, pointing, shouting at each other. Nikos must have been talking to one of them.
Eventually Nikos made it to the dock, away from the ship and his captain amd whoever he was arguing with a moment ago. He scowled, but he didn’t seem to notice Rob at all. He turned around and made that gesture again, which raised his arms and bared his armpits just inches from Rob’s face — Nikos still hadn’t noticed Rob because he was focused on his argument — sending a wave of intensely acrid sweat over Rob’s nostrils. It was funky and wild, and it made Rob’s heart skip a beat.
That gave Rob an idea. He hadn’t given much thought to what he wanted to do with his sailors — usually he had to let his men choose what they were comfortable with, since many wouldn’t go as far as Rob wanted.
But those armpits were incredible. He was so hairy Rob drooled to look at him. That bushy beard, and the dense growth of armpit hair that looked like a whole nother crotch. Rob giggled, eyes mesmerized by the sight of Nikos’s arm-bush, nose wrinkling at the waves of stale, fetish man-scent that assaulted his nostrils.
“Suck your armpits. Suck your armpits.” Rob’s dick stiffened as Nikos’s greasy body wafted his stink over Rob’s face. “Suck your armpits. I’ll suck your armpits, lick all that sweat up. I’ll worship your armpits.”
But Nikos just muttered to himself in Greek, paying no mind to the small, lithe man talking about armpits next to him. He took a wallet out of his pocket, then a coin-purse. He counted his change. He had very little weekend. He wasn’t getting paid today — he had leave for the weekend, but the captain had refused to pay him due to his continued disobedience. That’s what he was shouting about when he caught Rob’s attention.
He gulped. He barely had enough to buy a meal tonight. He certainly wouldn’t be able to get drunk or hire a prostitute. He could rob someone, he thought, he sometimes did that — he wasn’t a bad man, and he’d never hurt anyone, but he did sometimes rob rich people to fund his lifestyle.
“Lick your armpits. Hey, uh, man? I’ll lick your armpits for twenty bucks. I’ll give you twenty bucks to let me go at your armpits-“
Finally Nikos turned around and realized Rob was speaking to him. It took him a moment to process what Rob had said. Then he furrowed his brow.
“I’ll give you two hundred dollars,” Rob said. He pulled out a stack of twenty-dollar bills — that was enough by far to get drunk, eat a fine meal, fuck a woman — possibly not even a prostitute — and pay for a hotel room by himself. He dangled it in front of Nikos’s face.
Nikos’s eyes opened wide. “What?” He had a noticeable Greek accent, but it wasn’t real heavy. He had been speaking English since he was a boy. He had learned it from a Brit though, so some of his words were tinged with an upper-class British accent.
“I want to lick your armpits, suck them all over, drink all your sweat,” Rob said. He came closer. “Please? Let me lick your pits.”
“Lick my armpits? Why? What does that mean?”
“It means…. Exactly what it sounds like. I want to lick your armpits. I’m into pit worship,” Rob said. He blushed a little at Nikos’s harsh glare. Of course pit worship was not a known thing to most men, so Nikos had to deduce what it meant. He still assumed he had missed something, but he didn’t want to look like a fool by asking again.
Nikos nodded. He looked around to make sure no one was nearby who knew him. Nobody seemed to be paying much attention anyway — sailors went straight for the girls and ignored pretty much everything else. Virtually no one had even yet clocked Rob’s existence. Nikos tried to grab the money from Rob, but Rob tucked it back away in his pocket.
“I will need the money to rent a hotel room,” Nikos said. “So I can shower. Then I will… I will let you do what you wish.”
Rob shook his head. “You have completely misjudged the point of pit worship. Let’s go, I know a spot.”
“What do you mean? Misjudged how? What is pit worship?”
“I already said,” Rob said with a laugh. “It’s licking your armpits. Like, a lot. You misjudged because you thought I wanted you to shower first. That ruins the whole thing. There’s no point in you showering first. I might as well lick a bar of soap. I want to suck your armpits.”
Nikos frowned like he was confused. His English was good, but he assumed he was missing something. “I will not… You may not put your… manhood, uh… in my armpit.”
Rob rolled his eyes, having difficulty controlling not laughing at Nikos. “That’s not my intent. Neat idea, but not my plan. Maybe somebody else, some other time.” He led Nikos into an alley near the beach, where there was a little concealed area behind a mound of trash in the back of the alley.
Nikos wrinkled his nose. “I feel dirty already, I am very sweaty and you will not enjoy my body odor-“
“Oh my god, Nikos, you still don’t get it. How did your people invent democracy? Okay, stop talking, you’re making me even hornier,” Rob said. “I’m gonna blow my wad early.” As soon as they were both behind the mound of trash, Rob dove his face into Nikos’s chest. He had that sailor’s shirt with the very open collar, so Rob could get right into the greasy valley between Nikos’s pecs, which were especially firm right now because he had been using them for days to shovel coal. Nikos’s eyes opened wide.
To Nikos, doing anything like this when he was sober was a new experience. He had been raised to believe it was only an ex-con would ramrod a man knowingly, but in the merchant marine that qualifier — knowingly — had evolved to the point that it barely seemed to matter. As long as the sailor could pretend he thought it was a woman, it wasn’t “knowingly sinful” and therefore didn’t count.
A lot of times, ships had one or two sailors who would put on fishnet stockings and spray on some perfume, and everybody would pretend to think they were a real woman. Nikos did that too. Pretending made it feel more real, and he could ramrod those men for hours fooling himself that he was making love to a woman.
But he was sober now and couldn’t pretend to be confused, and there was a chance he could fuck a real woman. Rob wasn’t even bothering to dress like a lady or wear a wig, or even any perfume. Nikos stood there like a statue because he didn’t want to give the impression that he was becoming aroused and because he still wasn’t sure what Rob was doing or what he expecte from Nikos.
“I will need a woman to get hard. Or at least you will need to act like a woman,” Nikos said with an embarrassed grunt as Rob pulled his bellbottoms down. His trunk-like thighs were covered in dense, coarse black hairs, matted to his skin with sweat. Rob licked a trail from his thighs up his chest — lifting his shirt up over his body — and sucking down all the sweat he could get to. He was surprised and elated to see Nikos didn’t wear any underwear, his dick just flopped freely out, uncut and gleaming.
The scent of his unwashed crotch was acrid and intense, and it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. He gave Nikos’s dick a stroke, just to get him started. It throbbed in his hand. It was hot and clammy, unwashed for days, maybe more than a week. Nikos furrowed his brow like he only just now understood what was happening.
“How long will this take? I can’t spend all evening-“
“Relax, just gimme… an hour. Less than an hour, probably,” Rob said. “Lift your arms.” He nuzzled Nikos’s armpit with his arms tightly at his side, then he lifted them and the fragrantly fruity scent of his rancid armpits hit Rob’s nostrils.
“Ah…. That is nasty. You’re just licking my armpit. What… is that?” Nikos said, furrowing his brow as he watched. He was surprised to learn that Rob had been entirely literal about licking his pits.
It was somewhat ticklish, but Nikos at first didn’t think much of it. It was an awkward situation, standing with another man in a disgusting alley, worrying that someone might come around the corner anytime. He kept looking up to be sure no windows aimed down here on this side of the trash.
But it wasn’t unpleasant. Nikos’s dick wouldn’t get hard like this — which was fine with Rob, since he would rather drag this out — yet it did throb a bit beneath Rob’s touch. Rob even dropped his own pants and let his dick joust with Nikos’s as he slathered spit all over Nikos’s armpit. He slurped down every drop of sweat, and he sucked on every one of the fine hairs of Nikos’s armpits.
Saliva dripped down his powerful chest, matting his body hair to his skin. Nikos still tried not to think about it. Looking at it was gross because Nikos didn’t want to think about what that would taste like. It was probably so moist with sweat, he thought, and gritty with salt, and bitter from the coal dust. Watching Rob’s tongue made Nikos’s tongue taste it too, so he looked away.
Rob moaned. His own cock leaked precum over Nikos’s shaft. Nikos ignored it — he and his fellow Greek sailors thought little of touching dicks when they shared a prostitute, so letting Rob joust with him didn’t feel so strange. He was not squeamish, after all. He sighed.
Was this really going to take an hour? An hour of his armpit being licked? Nikos sighed again, even louder, and rolled his eyes as Rob switched to his other freshly-funky armpit.
Still, for two hundred dollars, Nikos could spend an hour.
The taste was potent and pure stank all over again. Rob moaned, his voice breaking, his whole body cringing. Precum flowed freely over Nikos’s shaft now, which gleamed, sticky and creamy. Nikos was almost hard now.
And then, like a switch being flicked, it felt good.
Nikos’s grunted and moaned. His knees went weak, and for a moment, Rob supported him with his hands on Nikos’s dick. His heavy, sweat-slickened body rubbed against Rob, who could never have held him up for more than a few seconds. Nikos leaned against the brick wall.
He threw his head back and moaned. He couldn’t believe that his armpits felt good. It was his dick that really sent waves of pleasure through his body, but it was Rob’s tongue snaking back and forth between both armpits that made that pleasure grow, giving him an erection that throbbed against Rob’s own hardon.
Both men’s precum flowed over their shafts, lubricating Rob’s hands, which both rubbed up and down in sync with Rob’s tongue flickering over the moist valley of Nikos’s armpits. His biceps were huge and firm, flexed hard as brick now.
“Ah, goddamn, I’m going to-” Nikos bit his lip, and his whole muscled body shook as he orgasmed. It looked so intense it hurt. His knees buckled again, but he leaned against the wall for support instead of relying on Rob.
Rob dropped to his knees, kneeling among the spilled trash bags. He hurried to lower his head and let both of Nikos’s heavy, sour balls plop into his open mouth.
He kept both hands on Nikos’s shaft, which was already throbbing and beginning to spray his first wad of cum when his sac slipped into Rob’s mouth. Having not showered in days, his balls stank powerfully, the sweat dripping in rivers down Rob’s throat. Even though Rob loved mansweat of any kind and in any quantity, this was enough to make him gag and choke.
It certainly didn’t stop him though. His tongue snaked out to Nikos’s nasty taint as cum sprayed up. Rob jacked his cock off with both hands, giggling at the feel of his balls rising up in his sac. Rob could sense the cum coursing up his sac as wad after wad shot straight up.
“Ah, damn…” Nikos grunted. “Nai, afto efnai kalo…” He repeated that a few times — Rob didn’t know Greek, and he was too involved in suckling Nikos’s sweaty ballsac to ask.
Some of it coated Nikos’s chest, matting his fur to his skin, but much of it just dripped right back down on Nikos’s shaft or on Rob’s face. Nikos shuddered and shook. He was surprised at how good it felt, since after all, it was “technically speaking”, just a handjob. His dick hadn’t even gotten wet.
But Rob gave surprisingly expert handjobs, and Nikos he shot a massive load that coated Rob’s face and Nikos’s dick, where it dripped down onto Rob’s body. Then Rob licked a trail up from Nikos’s nasty balls — which now just smelled of saliva — back to his shaft. Rob sucked down every drop of sour-sweet cum there, the saltiness bringing tears to his eyes. He loudly slurped on the mess of fluids on Nikos’s cockshaft, and the sensation of Rob’s mouth on his sensitive knob made Nikos gasp, muscles rippling, as he stood up on his toes.
At last, he was done, Rob’s own load congealing warmly on the trashy pavement. Rob sat back and plopped his ass on the garbage. He lazily reached up to stroke Nikos’s limp dick, making Nikos’s hairy body tremble with post-orgasmic bliss. His brown skin had already gleamed with sweat, but now much of it was covered in either semen or spit or both, so he was positively shimmery.
Nikos suddenly felt cold and dirty. He really wanted to take a shower, and he was annoyed that he hadn’t been able to before leaving the ship. He let out a menacing growl when he realized Rob hadn’t paid him yet. Rob hurried to hand over the money, the full two hundred dollars, which he counted out in twenty-dollar bills in Nikos’s hand.
“Have fun this weekend,” Rob said. “When you find a prostitute, you should pay extra to fuck her in the ass.”
“Why?”
Rob shrugged like the answer should have been obvious. “Because it’s awesome.” He laughed. “Or so I’ve been told, I don’t know much about women.”
Nikos grunted and put his clothes on. Now that he had his money, all he could really think about was getting away from Rob before he blew his reputation. That and he still desperately needed a shower. He walked away, ignoring Rob’s eyes aimed at his ass.
Rob smiled and sighed. He leaned back in the garbage. Had he had his fill of sailor meat? He thought so. But it was just armpits, there were more sailors and more body parts, and Rob was ready to track down every single one.

The Alpha in a Wifebeater

When a roughneck comes by Avery’s place to ask for money, Avery just might be in for more than he bargained for… a lot more! That’s because this blue-collar stud has got more meat than he knows what to do with.

Luckily Avery knows exactly how to handle this much meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery was glad to have the house to himself on Thanksgiving. He was living with his sister, her husband and her two daughters, but they were all away at Avery’s brother-in-law’s parents’s house. Avery was invited but begged it off. He rarely got the whole house to himself, and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Besides that, he didn’t like his brother-in-law’s family, and he didn’t get the impression they liked him much either. So he was alone for the holiday weekend. He couldn’t really complain though, he had a whole apartment above the garage, so he didn’t have to see his nieces at all if he didn’t want to (and there were times he definitely did not want to see the screaming terrors).
But he did love holidays, so he was disappointed that he didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with. Tomorrow, he and a few friends would be having a Friendsgiving after a day of shopping, but that wasn’t really the same thing.
There was a knock on the garage door. Avery was in the main house right now, since he could have it to himself, but he heard someone banging hesitantly on the garage door.
A deep raspy voice called out, “Hello?!”
Avery peered through the window. There was a man standing there. He was underdressed for the weather, in just a wifebeater and camo pants. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and it was very cold for northern California. He shivered. It looked like he hadn’t really given much thought to what he wore in the snow. His massive biceps shook as he trembled in the cold.
He had a shaved head, though a stubble had grown recently, and he had a scruffy beard too. He had a husky build, with muscles bulging out of his wifebeater. He was very tall, carrying himself like a blue-collar worker, Avery thought, maybe a carpenter or plumber. Maybe military. He had a bald eagle tattooed on his heart, just barely visible peeking over the rim of his ragged wifebeater. He looked uncomfortable with his own heft, and Avery was sure he would blush if anyone ever told him how handsome he was. That made Avery want to tell him so.
Avery opened the front door of the house. “Hey,” he said, calling out to the garage where the man knocked.
“Oh, hi, you must be Avery.” He came to the front door and shivered. He looked like he expected to be let in. “I’m Spackle. Albert Spackle, but e’ryone calls me Spackle. I’m Gregory Spackle’s grandson.” He gestured to one of the houses across the way. That made Avery snicker to himself — Mr. Spackle was an elderly redneck who was hilarious in his own little way — his own racist, catankerous and bitter way — Avery could only imagine what Mr. Spackle had told his grandson about him. Spackle smiled nervously. “Can I come in?”
“Uh… Do you… have a reason?” Avery asked. “Sorry, I mean, I don’t know you or anything-“
“No, yeah, I, uh, I guess… I should have expected that. It’s just really cold,” he said. He bit his lip.
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“Uh… My granddad said you’d be, uh… that you’d get me inside quicker than a… …” He blushed and didn’t finish the analogy. “Well, I guess he ain’t mean it literally, I should’ve… I, uh…” He shivered again and laughed. “It’s never this cold at Thanksgiving, man, I ain’t even bring no long-sleeves back with me. Uh…”
“Yeah, weird weather this year.”
“Look… My granddad… My granddad — I mean, no offense man, you got like, a lisp and a limp wrist and, uh-” Spackle gestured towards Avery.
“Uh-huh,” Avery said. He smiled and threw his hands up. He suspected where Spackle was going with this, but he wanted to make him struggle to get there. Snow continued falling on Spackle’s broad shoulders, dappling his skin with little white flakes that melted instantly.
“Yeah.” Spackle blushed. His deep voice resonated, filling the doorway and echoing around in Avery’s ears. He had that big-guy voice, all dull and flat, draping over Avery like a baritone blanket. “So my granddad said… Look, I’m gonna be honest wit’ you, I got some money problems right now. Okay? It ain’t like… It ain’t, you know, drugs or nothin’ like that. But, uh… my granddad says you… You like, sometimes pay dudes to like… jack them off, or whatever.” His cheeks turned bright red, and he gestured increasingly wildly. “No offense, man,That’s, uh, but I am, like… I am okay, with the whole… thing.”
Avery chuckled. “So your granddad said I’d fall head over heels in love with you and pay you, so you should come over here to make some money? And I’d just open the door for you right away?”
“Well… He ain’t exactly phrase it like a suggestion. He kinda meant it, like… you know, a bad thing, like somethin’… Like he said basically if I was a deadbeat, you know… He said he’s not giving me money and I should just come over here if I’m… You know, if I need money, I should come here and ask you instead of him. He ain’t gonna give me… Well, he’s old-fashioned.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Avery sighed and opened the door. “Your granddad is totally right, by the way. I’ll give you two hundred dollars to cornhole me.”
“Oh hell yeah, okay, finally,” Spackle said. He came in and immediately undid his belt, dropping his pants to his ankles. Only then did he begin to unlace his heavy workboots. Spackle looked a lot more confident now that he was inside.
“Finally?”
“I work at an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, right? And we get leave off in this crapdunk little town called Masquerez, ain’t jack-shit there to do. All the chicks is Mexican and fat. Not a single one is fuckable. I mean, I still fuck ‘em, but I ain’t proud,” he said with a chuckle. His deep voice boomed; he spoke loudly, like he was used to being on an oil rig where engines constantly whirred. As he removed his boots with his pants around his ankles, his arms bulged and his pecs rippled beneath his wifebeather, which was ripped and stained with layers of grease and industrial lubricant. “And uh… me and my buddies Eddie and Dog and Raffy — he’s from Jamaica — and we all heard this rumor ‘bout this dude who pays money for it, y’know, for swallowin’ dick. And we spent all fucking night chasing this dude, never found him, man. We found one Mexican who ain’t speak no English and he got even less money than me, so we ain’t cornhole him.” He leaned back and wiggled his toes. He propped his feet up on the coffee table. He grabbed the remote control. “You got porn on here?”
“Prolly not. This is my sister’s place. I doubt her husband dares to keep porn in here,” Avery said. “And I bet he’s into something gross like diapers.”
“Ew, nasty,” Spackle said with a chuckle. He burped, settling back on the couch — looking ridiculous in his holey socks and wifebeater, which he seemed to have forgotten he was still wearing. His pants lay crumpled up on the floor beside the couch. “Sorry if that weren’t romantic.” He flicked through the channels and eventually found some hip hop music video channel that was nearly softcore porn. “So, uh… I dunno how you do it. I mean, I know… like the gist of it. But I dunno what to do.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out,” Avery said. He sunk between his knees in front of Spackle.
“Oh, I should shower first, man, you don’t wanna jerk me off yet,” Spackle said. He chuckled. He sniffed his armpit and wrinkled his nose. “I smell rank, sorry, man.” He was about to take off his wifebeater finally, but Avery stopped him.
“What? No. You are way off,” Avery said. “I love dirty guys.”
“Ew, why?”
“The smell,” Avery said with a smile. He dove his face into Spackle’s armpit, the same one he had sniffed and found wanting. It was disgusting, he was right about that. It was slick with sweat — Spackle’s grandparents kept their house at a sweltering temperature, which was why he had been wearing just that wifebeater and shorts until he put on pants to come over here. So Spackle had been sweating since he got to the house late last night.
His armpit was so wet it was like he had just taken a shower, though the smell proved he hadn’t. Avery also tasted snow that lingered on his muscles.
Avery kissed up Spackle’s arm from his pit, inhaling the filth of his wifebeater as he went. He had tattoos on his arm, a silhouette of a naked woman, an iron cross, a network of barbed wire, and Avery licked an outline of each one. Spackle watched him with a wry smile like he might watch a child explore something mundane. His muscles were stiff, too nervous at being licked like a cat to relax.
Then Avery kissed his shoulder and the lower side of his neck, where a climbing ivy tattoo extended up to his ear. Avery’s hands snaked under his wifebeater and teased his nipples. As soon as Avery’s tongue and lips touched Spackle’s scruffy neck, Spackle’s whole body tensed even more. Avery knew he had made a mistake.
“Ugh…” Spackle sucked in his breath like he was thinking of hitting Avery for kissing him on the neck — that was almost like a real kiss, perilously close to his lips. That was too much for Spackle. He sucked in his breath and grunted.
Avery’s heart skipped a beat. Spackle was huge and bulky and possibly violent. He was a roughneck. Avery wasn’t sure how’d respond. He should not have tried to kiss his neck.
But Spackle just placed one heavy hand on Avery’s head. He gently but firmly pushed him down.
He chuckled nervously and pointed to a spot about a third of the way up his neck — he was very muscular, so he didn’t really have much of a neck. He pointed to just above his shoulders. “You can kiss me up to here, man. No higher than that. We ain’t makin’ out. No hickeys neither. I can’t explain that to my mama.”
“Okay,” Avery said. Spackle breathed a sigh of relief like he thought his rule might have been a dealbreaker for Avery.
Avery didn’t mind. He liked pushing alphas to their limits. He took off his own clothes as he sucked on Spackle’s wifebeater-clad chest and shoulders, below the limit. Spackle was hairy and dusty, and he was tense wherever Avery kissed. Spackle’s skin puckered underneath Avery’s lips.
“Ah… Damn,” Spackle said. He blushed a bright red. “Man, this shit is crazy. I ain’t know it was gonna be like this.” He shifted his weight on the couch. “I mean… they said that dude in Texas, man, he was… It was like a gloryhole thing. Supposedly. You ain’t gotta look at him or nothing. He ain’t lickin’ ya nipples. Shit’s crazy.”
“You like blowjobs from women, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah.”
“You want me to just go straight to swallowing your cock?”
He snorted and chuckled. He whipped his cock out the fly of his tattered brown boxers. He thwacked its limp shaft around, battering Avery’s shoulder with it. He licked his teeth.
“Hell yeah, man, fuck,” Spackle said. He bit his lip, smiling as he thwacked his dick on Avery’s face. “You deepthroat? Ain’t no girls deepthroat no more.”
Avery giggled. He stuck his finger down his throat to demonstrate. He got it way down there before gagging. Spackle lowered his eyes and breathed deeply. His cock twitched.
“Ah yeah, man, like that,” Spackle said, his voice rumbling like he had to force himself not to attack Avery’s throat right now. His muscles flexed under his wifebeater.
“I’ll let you facefuck me,” Avery said. “If you let me get you hard with a little jousting.” Avery giggled.
Spackle laughed a deep barrel laugh. He covered his face with his hands. “Okay, but I’m puttin’ a time limit. One minute, man. If I don’t get hard in one minute, you put it in your mouth. Ain’t no way I’m gonna get hard touchin’ a dick. No offense.”
“None taken.” Avery knew that Spackle was probably right. Avery didn’t care. The point wasn’t to actually get him hard. Avery would just enjoy trying.
Avery kneeled in front of Spackle, who was still sprawled out on the cushions. Avery thwacked his own hefty cock against Spackle’s, and when he did, Spackle’s whole body jerked. Spackle’s eyes were closed, one hand covering his face. He groaned and giggled like a boy. He covered his eyes with both arm.
“Ah, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he said. His voice was muffled by his arms. “That’s nasty…”
“You ever touch cocks with another man?” Avery smushed his erection against Spackle’s limpness, while Avery’s hands slipped under his wifebeater to grope his chest.
“Nah… I mean… Maybe kinda.” He laughed again, his anxiety evident in the wavery tone of his voice. His face was covered by his forearms, but even through the gaps in the flesh, Avery could see his dingy face turning red like a cranberry. He giggled so uncontrollably he squealed like a mouse, a very deep-voiced, raspy-throated mouse.
“You okay, Spackle?” Avery asked as he stroked both cocks together. Avery’s was smooth and clean, while Spackle’s was tan, veiny, knobbly, and even had a small faded scar along the top of it, near the root.
“Yeah.” Spackle had to take a deep breath to regain control of himself. He peered through his fingers, but when he saw his cock touching Avery’s, he squirmed and re-covered his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure. “Nah, it wasn’t nevuh like this.” He paused and bit his lip. “Alright, yeah. One time. Raffy — that’s that Jamaican dude — he was… he had this game. He said it was Jamaican but some other dude googled it and said he saw nothin’ ‘bout it in Jamaica or anywhere else.” He paused and laughed. “I only did it one time. But, uh… He like come up at ya wit’ his big floppy dick, and you… you know, you hit each other’s dicks and shit. Like joustin’ for real, you know? And uh… if you back out cuz his dick hurt ya — and Raffy knows how to do that too, he got a massive rod and he uses it like a fucking club, man, he really gets ya with it. He hits ya in the balls with it. Anyway if it hurts and ya gotta back out, you lose, and if you get hard, you gotta suck his dick.” Avery chuckled. “It’s how Raffy always wanna settle things.”
“You did that?”
Spackle talked more fluidly now, still watching his dick limply rub against Avery’s, but his anxiety over it seemed to have dwindled. “Just one time. That motherfucker was trying to take my towel, man. We was in the shower. He said he just forgot his, he wanna share. I was like, I do a lot of things for my friends, but I ain’t gonna let you wipe ya ass off with my towel and then I’m gonna use it. I’m gonna wipe my face off wit’ ya ass all over my towel? No way, no I ain’t.”
“You won?”
He shrugged. “Kinda. We was still goin’ when my boss came in the shower. He don’t tolerate that shit, so he made us stop.” He paused. “Okay, man, start suckin’.” He breathed a sigh of relief when Avery pulled away from his cock. “On the rig, we got a lotta Africans and shit, Arabs, that kind of thing. They ain’t nice about that kinda shit,” he said. “And Indonesians. We got Indonesians.” He shifted his weight on his asscheeks.
Once the minute was up, Avery stopped jousting — he waited for Spackle to tell him, so it was actually more like three minutes. Spackle’s dick roped around in Avery’s grip and rubbed against Avery’s cock, but when he was done, Avery kissed a trail down Spackle’s chest. He reached his crotch, kissed his cock on the top and then very briefly, chastely, kissed Spackle on the lips. No tongue. Spackle groaned anyway, and before he could complain, Avery swallowed his cock as deep as he could go in one motion.
His cock remained limp at first, as an awkward silence filled the room. Avery wondered if Spackle would even be able to get hard — not all guys could do it, no matter how much money they were offered.
But then finally, Spackle’s dick perked up. It twitched in Avery’s mouth, then got firmer and firmer. Spackle watched like he had never seen this happen before. His eyes were open wide.
“Ah, yeah, yeah, like that,” Spackle said. He moaned like Avery was scratching an itch he hadn’t been able to reach for a long time. He leaned back on the couch. He grabbed his pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Can I smoke in here?”
“No, sorry. It’s my sister’s house. She would literally shit a brick,” Avery said, wiping precum and spit off his chin.
He smiled. “I’d like to see that.” But he did put the cigarettes away, back in the pocket of his workpants on the floor. He shrugged. “I’m trying to quit anyway.”
Avery rammed his head all the way down on Spackle’s cock. He gagged, but he kept his mouth in position, even as his throat clenched and fought against Spackle’s shaft. He choked up spit, while Spackle groaned and grunted.
He was a very loud humper. Spackle kept on making sounds, whirring and hooting at himself, chuckling at jokes only he heard, shifting his weight on the couch. Avery couldn’t tell if he always did it like this or if he just did it because he was nervous. His wifebeater shook as his muscles al l flexed and stayed tense.
“You ready to cornhole me?”
Spackle blushed again. “Yeah, course,” he said. He said it like a macho man, but it was obvious that he was nervous. When Avery bent over his lap with his ass in the air, Spackle sighed with relief. “Damn, thank god, I was worried you’d be hairy. You shave your ass, right? I’m glad girls don’t get hair in their asses.”
“Girls absolutely get hairy asses,” Avery said as he backed his ass towards Spackle’s lap. “They shave.”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way, I swear. Or a lot of them do, anyway. Not all.”
Spackle wrinkled his nose and watched Avery’s ass collide with his erection. “Well… I don’t much like that, they shouldn’t get hair in their asses, man, that’s gross.”
Avery giggled. His ass rubbed against Spackle’s shaft. “I will be sure to inform the Committee to Regulate Female Asses,” he said. Then he shuddered in both pain and pleasure when Spackle’s dick pushed into his asshole.
Spackle gasped. “Aw, fuck, aw, fuck, man, aw, fuck, I don’t even… Aw, fuck…”
“You like that?” Avery asked.
“Fuck yeah,” Spackle groaned, and his whole body rattled. He absent-mindedly lifted his wifebeater as though going to take it off, but then he dropped it and left it on. He held his breath, watching Avery squirm backwards deeper and deeper onto his cock. “Yo, man, yo… I gotta… Yo, man, you, uh… what kinda positions you like?”
Avery found it difficult to concentrate while his ass loosened and adjusted to Spackle’s cock. So he just said, “Any, really. What do you want to try?”
“No big deal, just… no girls ever wanna do this,” he said. “They say it hurts too bad. Man, girls complain a lot. Why don’t you complain?”
“Cuz I like getting it up the ass from dirty guys with big monster dicks,” Avery snapped. “Girls don’t.”
He sniffled. “Fuckin’ bitches…” he said. There was a faint note of pride there, he enjoyed hearing talk about his “monster dick”. He wrapped his arms around Avery’s chest. He rotated so that he laid out on the couch — he was a little too tall, so his feet had to be angled off the edge. Avery struggled to remain atop his cock, but all the extra motion made him horny enough to burst.
Spackle hugged Avery to keep him close, and Avery’s back rubbed against his filthy wifebeater Avery held his breath, trying to endure the awe-striking pressure in his ass. Spackle’s entire cock was in him, throbbing, and since he was mounted on Spackle’s sweat-slippened body, Avery could do little more than slide around on his muscles.
But Spackle wrapped his arms over Avery’s chest, and he even hooked his legs around Avery’s ankles. That pinned Avery on his back on Spackle’s chest and cock. The smell of his unwashed roughneck body was overpowering, like Avery was bathing in his funk.
“This alright, man?” Spackle asked.
“Hell yeah.” Avery’s voice was weak and thready. “Girls are never going to like this position, Spackle. It hurts. I like it because… well, for my own reasons. Don’t bother asking girls to do this.”
He sighed. “I know.” He took a deep breath and started ramming his dick upwards into Avery’s ass. He was quick like it was a race, like he was trying to shatter Avery’s insides. Avery yelped and screamed, in pain at first but then with pleasure flowing through his veins.
Spackle’s cell phone rang. He cursed and answered it, only slowing down a little bit. “It’s my sister,” he said like he didn’t want to talk to her.
He answered it anyway though. “Hey. I’m around. Near the house. None of your business. No. No. No! No! No! You better not!” His cock trembled in Avery’s ass. Spackle breathed heavily but tried to conceal it. He wiped sweat off his brow and smeared it on his wifebeater. “I am not! I don’t even know none the neighbors here. Grandpa is an asshole, I don’t think he was right about that. I’m… at the store! I wanted to pick up a…”
“Bottle of wine.” Avery whispered, struggling to speak with the intense pressure in his ass.
“A bottle of wine! I wanted to get wine for dinner tonight! Yes, I know what wine is! We’re not that barbaric on the oil rig, you know! Oh, you think you know everything? I ain’t a rentboy, shut up!” He hung up the phone. His cock twitched angrily in Avery’s ass. “Fucking bitch. She knows where I am, by the way. If she ever asks, I didn’t come over here. I’ll tell her I dropped the wine and broke it on the way back.”
“I have wine,” Avery said. “You can take a bottle.” His voice was tense, breathless, clipped. He sounded like he was near tears, though he was merely near orgasm instead. “You can leave out the back. You can come out down the street, it’ll look like you’re coming back from the store.”
“Shit, alright, thanks,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I wanna do somethin’ nice for you, but I can’t think of nothin’. Don’t ask for a reacharound, I don’t do that.”
“Take a video of that Jamaican guy. Record yourself thwacking dicks with him. I wanna watch,” he said, ramming without even paying attention to it, like he was just moving on auto-pilot. Avery sighed as his prostate sent wave after wave of pleasure through his body.
Spackle gagged and winced. “Ah…” He smiled. “Oh, okay, yeah, I’ll just tell him it’s for a girl, alright? I’ll say I know a girl who wanna see it.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” Avery yelped like a puppy. He at last reached orgasm as Spackle finally began fucking again, triggering Avery’s whole body to tense and send pleasure pounding up his spine. Spackle didn’t notice right away because he was focused on his own cock, which spasmed as his balls drew up in his sac.
Then Spackle moaned in disgust when he saw Avery spray cum over his belly and chest. It covered Spackle’s muscles and matted his wifebeater to his skin. Spackle closed his eyes and muttered a complaint about the cummy smell. “Nasty…”
But it didn’t slow him down any. He groaned right into Avery’s ear. He jackrabbited his cock into Avery’s ass again, so hard and so violently that Avery screamed in both pain and pleasure. His fucking accentuated the orgasmic aftershocks that wracked Avery’s body.
“I’m gonna nut, man, gonna nut, gonna fill you up, aw shit, man aw shit, aw shit!” His voice gradually rose to a plaintive yell.
Hot cum spurted into Avery’s ass. It was a thick, creamy load, even denser and stickier than most. It coated Avery’s ass in warmth, and it kept on going. Avery took a deep breath and savored the feel of looping jets of cum covering his prostate and dripping throughout his body.
Spackle sighed grandly. When Avery moved, Spackle gasped and held Avery’s hips in place. His cock twitched, which made Avery hold back a howl of pain. The movement kept his post-orgasm going, however, and Avery shuddered uncontrollably.
At last Spackle was done. Thick gobs of cum dripped down his shaft and into his pubic hair. He shuddered too, and then he fell limp.
Even when Avery lifted off him, Spackle just sprawled out on the couch. He groaned. He burped again. Avery stretched his legs and grabbed some napkins. He cleaned off Spackle’s cock, which rapidly limpened in Avery’s fingers. Spackle took off his wifebeater, which had Avery’s cum on it.
“Damn,” Spackle said. He sighed. “Do I gotta go back to my family? Can I stay here all day?”
“Fine with me.”
He frowned. “I know. But I can’t. My mama would kill me,” he said. “You’ll still be here tonight?”
“Yes,” Avery said. He went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. He handed it to Spackle.
“Good,” he said. He smiled. “Will you pay me again tonight?”
Avery giggled. “Not five hundred dollars.” He wrote out the check to Thomas Spackle and handed it over. In the memo field, he had written meat, but Spackle didn’t even look at it yet.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry though. We can have fun, and I bet you can make some money one way or another. Maybe not five hundred bucks…” Avery said. Spackle nodded and agreed. He put his pants back on, then offered Avery the cum- and filth-encrusted wifebeater, which was soaked in his sweat. He left through the back door. Avery watched him sneak down the street, then shiveringly walk bare-chested back to his grandfather’s house, carrying the bottle of wine.
Avery took a deep sniff of the musk staining his wifebeater, and he smiled with satisfaction. He hoped Spackle would come back one day soon.

The Scally

Rob is visiting England when he happens upon a studly scally willing to treat him terribly! Can Rob handle the ultra-raunchy man-on-man action Trevor has in store for him?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob walked into the parking lot of the Toppenlad Housing Estate, hoping he didn’t look vulnerable. He really wasn’t vulnerable — he had more ways to protect himself than he appeared, because he looked like a slim flamboyant weakling. But Rob could take care of himself.
Manchester was not a nice city. Sullen women glared at Rob, white men in track suits and undershirts chugging lager on every corner. One of the men scratched his nuts in a way that made his bulge very apparent, and Rob could see the outline of his cock through his Adidas tracksuit bottoms. Rob’s heart skipped a beat. He liked the alpha males of Manchester and their brusque accents. Most of them were unemployed, of course, who would hire such a lout? Throughout the city, scallies hung around on stoops and in alleys, shouting come-ons at girls of low repute. They ignored Rob, until one of them noticed Rob checking him out.
“Oi! Ya nasty siss! I’ll stomp that punk look off ya face!” He stood up, his big thick chest making Rob drool. He wore brilliant blue trainers with his chile 62s tucked into the socks.
Rob backed up. The scally had deep-set eyes and hair cut very short. He scowled and laughed at the frightened expression on Rob’s face. He spat on the ground, almost hitting Rob.
“Get outta here, mate!” His companions glared too, and they all bunched up so close together their bodies touched. Rob was entranced for a moment by the sight of their mostly bare arms rubbing against each other, their Adidas-clad asses touching. One of them even clutched the shoulder of the man next to him, and a for a moment, it looked like they were going to kiss. Rob would have gladly stayed to watch.
But that wasn’t what they were going to do. They were going to beat Rob up and take his wallet. So Rob left.
The Toppenlad Housing Estate had a big grassy courtyard in front of it. It might have looked nice at one point, but now the grass glittered with broken glass from bottles and empty cans of lager. Spraypainted graffiti covered the walls of the building.
“Oi! Come here, you bitch!”
“Let’s go!”
“I’ll suck your dick, baby!” That was a woman in skimpy clothes, hair pulled back so taut it looked painful. She was yelling at a man, then turned to Rob — seemingly to offer to suck him off as well, then she stopped when she saw the swishy lilt to Rob’s walk. She scowled. “Foickin’ pansy.”
Rob blushed, but entered the building. He found flat 9B with fear growing with every step. There was a man with a swastika tattooed on his back doing pushups near the lifts, with a Staffordshire pit bull watching Rob go by. The dog growled as Rob stepped into the lift. The man wasn’t doing pushups in any kind of area, he was just in the hall, not totally blocking it, but still in the way, and he did his push-ups with frantic energy like he was in a manic state, coked up or both.
Another man came into the lift before the doors shut, and Rob’s heart raced at the sight of a yardie with what appeared to be fresh blood on his trainers. It wasn’t even all dry yet. His dreadlocks smelled like coconut and steel, and he simmered and fidgeted, sucking on his teeth and sneaking glances at Rob the whole way up.
Finally the lift reached the ninth floor, and Rob stepped out. The yardie got out at the same floor.
There was a hypodermic syringe on the ground just outside the lift. Rob stepped over it. 9B was right over there. He could feel that yardie watching him. He had a feeling that he would have been mugged if he had gone to a different flat — Trevor was dangerous enough that his visitors didn’t get messed with. Others might not have been so lucky.
Rob knocked on the door, sighing with relief when he heard that yardie stalk away. He still wasn’t sure Trevor was going to be there, or even that this was the right address. Someone had told him he could buy drugs here.
After a few more knocks, Trevor opened it, nearly ripping the door off the hinges. “Wut, mate?” He was bleary-eyed and looked to be half-asleep.
“I-“
“Who the foik is you, mate? Huh? Ya foickin’ pussy-faced cunt, get in here!”
Rob’s heart raced. This was definitely Trevor. He had a shaved head, a scruffy chin, a craggy face with a scar on the cheek, and he wore an Adidas tracksuit over perfectly clean Nikes. He had a plain white shirt on, stained with sweat from yesterday’s workout. He had the same intense scent and overwhelming swagger that Rob remembered from the older Trevor in prison.
The smell of his chest was invigorating. Rob was overwhelmed, especially when he walked into Trevor’s flat. There were dirty trainers and socks everywhere, filthy clothes piled upon stacks of filthy clothes, and empty packets of fags, a couple of orange traffic cones for some reason, empty cans of lager galore and a ratty old mattress on the floor in one room.
“You’re Rob, righ’?” Trevor said with a nod. “Dave said you’d be ‘ere at one.”
“Yeah, I’m running late. I got stuck in traffic, you know how it is on a Friday afternoon. The cars on the M60 were back-to-back-“
“Oi!” Trevor had to crane way down to get eye to eye with Rob. His muscles heaved and his face turned red like he was going to strangle Rob. “I didn’t ask ya to tell me a foickin’ story, mate.”
Rob’s heart sank. “Yeah. Sorry. Okay-“
Trevor’s murderously angry face broke into a broad grin. He was actually quite handsome when he didn’t look like a psychopath, which seemed to be rare. “I was just taking the piss, mate. I’m a dealer, not a copper. How much do you want?”
Again, Rob’s heart skipped a beat, because Trevor turned to get him a bag, and his bare arm came so close to Rob’s face that he could taste the sweat beading there. “I just need a couple pills. The best stuff you got.”
The next few minutes were a blur. Rob didn’t really care about the pills. He liked being so close to Trevor while he showed him the three different pills he had. Rob bought four slinnidols.
After handing over the quid, Rob stood up, the pills in his pocket. He smiled at Trevor like he had just come up with an idea. “Did you want to make a little extra money?”
“Course, mate. You want me to bash someone?”
“No! Not that,” Rob said. “I’d like you… to ram me.”
Trevor laughed, a big, harsh Mancunian laugh. He clasped his belly too. “You’re a poofter, mate?”
Rob nodded and reached out for Trevor’s chest with one hand. Trevor looked at him and furrowed his brow. Rob stroked in between the crest of his meaty pecs.
“I’ll give you a hundred pounds,” Rob said. His heart nearly thumped out of his chest. “But you have to ram me, and you have to ram me hard. Can you do that?”
“Seriously? A ‘undred pounds?” Trevor scoffed. He licked his lips and sneered as though he was disgusted by the offer. Rob wasn’t surprised by that, he just stood winsomely, sucking on one of his fingers to tantalize Trevor.
Like a lot of men, Trevor wanted to get his dick wet and didn’t care too much whose wetness he dipped it in. He’d have gladly rammed any adult female besides his mother for a hundred pounds, no matter how nasty she was.
But a male?
“Oi! If you fink you’re gonna make me jerk you off, you’re wrong, bitch, and I’ll rip ya skull off if you try anything, I’ll piss down ya foickin’ throat.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t do that,” Rob said. “I’m a bottom. That means-“
“You don’t ‘aveta explain,” Trevor said.
“I deep-throat real good,” Rob said. He demonstrate putting his entire fist in his mouth with his middle finger extending out and down his throat. He gagged but succeeded. “I have a tight ass too, tighter than any of the females you prolly fuck. I’ll never tell you to slow down or be gentle either.”
Trevor’s eyes opened wide. He didn’t want to look too excited. “That is foickin’ nasty, you li’l mincing fairy. But I’ll do it. For two tons,” he said.
“Fine.” Rob smiled — “two tons” was slang for two hundred pounds.
“You had be’er not complain when I’m swea’y and gross. I’m gonna make you regret it, poofter. You still ‘aveta pay me, even when you back out.” Then he belched directly into Rob’s face, the rancid smell filling up Rob’s nostrils. He laughed at Rob’s shocked expression, and he belched again. Perverts, he thought, were so neat and clean that Rob would hate being burped on, so Trevor thought Rob would back out.
That turned out not to be the case, but it took Trevor a few moments to figure it out. He forced belch after belch, a few drops of burpjuice even landing on Rob’s face. But Rob just grinned and sunk to his knees in front of Trevor, like a supplicant ready to worship.
“Stand up,” Trevor said. He wrinkled his nose, annoyed that Rob wasn’t responding as he had hoped. Normally women complained that he smelled bad — that was because he didn’t shower often. His pits were especially fragrant. His last girlfriend had dumped him after she accidentally stuck her nose in his pit. So Trevor lifted off his white tee shirt and tossed it to the floor, amid the sea of dirty clothes forever waiting for a laundry machine.
He lifted up one arm and slammed Rob face-first into his armpit. He cackled as Rob’s body twisted. He rubbed his hair over Rob’s nose and mouth. “Taste it, poofter, that’s what a real man tastes like.”
Rob inhaled deeply and licked his sweaty armpit hair. The taste was salty and potent. Rob loved every drop of it, and he especially loved the way Trevor’s big barrel chest shook when he laughed. Rob’s hands gripped Trevor’s flat, tattooed belly and reached for his ass, but Trevor stopped him.
“Poofs are nasty, mate,” he said. “Clean my other pit.” He wondered if this would be a viable long-term plan — maybe instead of paying for deodorant just to mollify a bunch of slutty females, he could let a siss pay him to suck his armpit clean every day.
Trevor didn’t want to let on that he was considering that option, so he tried to smell his own left armpit, the one Rob had already finished with, without being too obvious about it. It didn’t really smell much better though, he thought, it was still rank with sour sweat and caked-on grime, but now it had that spitty scent like a baby’s dummy too.
In fact, Rob did see Trevor sniff his other armpit, but he didn’t comment on it because he was focused on the right pit. He slathered saliva all over it and sucked up every drop of sweat he could find. Trevor had adorably hairy pits, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered all week (which was true, Trevor usually only showered on Sunday mornings because he saw his mother for dinner).
Trevor snarled because he had to suppress a laugh, as Rob’s tongue got through his hair to his ticklish skin. He covered up his ticklishness with an angry grunt.
“Oi, you can get on my dick now, ya poofter.” He firmly pushed down on Rob’s head, forcing him back to his knees. Then he hawked up a big loogie. He thought for sure this would scare Rob off as he spat it onto Rob’s face.
It was thick and stinky and it made Rob’s stomach churn, but it aroused him too. He loved being spat on by scally lads. He planted his lips on Trevor’s bulge, letting that nasty lump of phlegm slip out and soak into the fabric of his track bottoms.
“Oi! Don’t make my tracksuit duhty, swallow that shit! Don’t spit it out!” Trevor laughed at Rob’s expression — he couldn’t tell if Rob was turned on or grossed out. Trevor hoped both. Rob opened his mouth and sucked the loogey back into his mouth. Trevor growled. “Now swallow it.”
Rob gulped and did so. Trevor’s mouth was agape. He smiled. He was astonished that a man would willingly go through all this — Trevor had long thought he was sexy and women should treat him like he was. They didn’t. They generally preferred clean-cut upper-class guys. Even the sluts and tramps of the Toppenlad Housing Estate made it pretty obvious they wanted the nice suit-clad gentlemen who worked in offices and drove to work and read The Guardian, not the tracksuited lads like Trevor who walked to work on those occasions they had a job to show up to and didn’t read any of the papers, not even The Daily Mail.
Rob smacked his lips. He showed off his empty mouth. “Will you spit on me some more, please?”
Trevor was taken aback because he was expecting Rob to beg him to stop. He spat again and again, trying to make the poofter beg him to stop. He took a long chug from his can of lager hoping that would make him phlegmy again, but it didn’t work. He had been spitting so much his mouth was dry and not even the beer helped.
His saliva glistened all over Rob’s face. Trevor gingerly touched it, a smile creeping over his face as he smeared his spit to cover Rob’s cheeks. “Keep that mouth open, poofter. Let’s see what else you can put in there.” He picked up a nasty old sock off the floor, one that he had worn last time he worked (as a builder for a day, hauling bricks in barras back and forth to the worksite). The sock was ripe, and Trevor could virtually see the stink-lines emanating off it.
He jammed the sock into Rob’s mouth. The taste was bracing and acrid and harsh, and it brought tears to Rob’s eyes. It tasted like Trevor’s armpits but even funkier, and with actual dirt ground in. Rob could taste gravel and mud.
One of the things Rob loved most about socks and shoes was how it enabled him to taste everything about Trevor. He could picture Trevor at work, arms covered in grit as he wheeled a heavy barra among the builders. They wore those bright orange hi-vis jackets, and they all had deep, rumbly voices that could be heard a mile away because they spent so much time bellowing over the sound of the jackhammer. Trevor had come home from work that day utterly soaked in sweat, this sock plastered to his skin. He had taken one of those rare non-Sunday showers then, and he had pulled off that sock just before jumping in the water.
“Suck on me sock, poofter, nasty!” Trevor said. His dick was hard already, throbbing in his bottoms.
When Rob had soaked the sock with his spit — and the spit that Trevor had spat into his mouth — he pulled it out and rubbed it over his face. It absorbed all the spit and sweat there.
“Can I suck on your trainers?” Rob asked, his voice weak and mewling. He bent over and kissed the toes of Trevor’s left foot, through his squeaky-clean trainer. Like most scallies, Trevor placed a great deal of importance on footwear. He threw away his shoes and bought new ones — or more often, stole them — whenever they got scuffed.
“Suck on them? No. You can clean ’em, poofter. Clean me trainers like the bitch you are.” His trainers were white Nikes with dark blue highlights. Rob licked them, even rubbing his tongue like a sponge on a tiny spot of dirt until it came up.
After having a sock in his mouth, Rob’s tongue was dry. But he got a good burst of mud and sweaty foot flavor. He ran his tongue along the side of his trainers, then Trevor even lifted one foot up to see if Rob would suck on the underside.
Which he did, with a big smile on his face.
“That’s disgusting, mate,” Trevor said with a throaty chuckle. He pulled his feet away. He sighed, his cock still hard. A lot of guys got hard at the prospect of busting a nut regardless of the situation. Trevor pulled down his tracksuit to reveal a hefty, meaty cock, which stank of unwashed manhood. Rob put the tip in his mouth and sucked on it loudly, slurping up all the saliva he could generate.
Rob looked up and made eye contact with Trevor, who still looked shocked that this was happening even as his dick firmed up in Rob’s mouth.
“Oi, mate, open that froat up,” Trevor said. “You’re gonna learn how to gag real nice now…” He grabbed onto Rob’s ears and plowed deeply into his gullet.
His shaft was fully hard now, slamming in and out of Rob’s throat. Rob loudly choked and sputtered. Trevor’s balls slammed against his chin. Trevor loved that: balls-on-chin. That used to be he and his mates’s go-to threat: you’re gonna have chin-balls — it meant throating.
But now, Trevor was actually doing it. He’d be bragging about this to his friends for some time to come. He rammed so hard there was a satisfyingly meaty thwack-thwack as his balls hit Rob on the chin. Trevor would later go on to say Rob told him he rammed his throat too good, that his dick was too big for that, that he had such a legendarily huge cock that nobody could ever deep-throat him.
A gasp escaped from Trevor’s throat. His face turned ruddy. He hadn’t expected it to feel this good, and his muscles spasmed with pleasure. This was actually better than any blowjob he’d ever had. That’s because Rob loved his cock and loved its unwashed dirtiness even more. It tasted like those nasty old trackpants he wore, tattered and muck-splattered and dingy.
The precum was thick and salty, and Rob guzzled it down. He looked up to make eye contact with Trevor, but Trevor’s eyes were closed. He moaned as he rammed at Rob’s throat hard, slamming his dick in over and over.
He opened his eyes only when he pulled his cock all the way out. Spit dripped from it — some of it Trevor’s own spit from earlier and his phlegm too, which stuck to the palate of Rob’s mouth. Trevor’s eyes lit up.
He spat again and again, his beery mouth now finally phlegmatic enough to hawk a loogey again. It plopped nastily on Rob’s tongue, then it smeared over Trevor’s shaft as Trevor forced it back in his throat.
It was nice to ram a man’s throat, Trevor thought, because it was bigger and wider than a woman’s. That made sense to him, he thought. He could really push it all the way in like a porn star, and Rob didn’t complain.
But Trevor didn’t want to blow his wad like this. Aside from the fact that he had agreed to ram Rob in the ass, he wanted to do it — girls didn’t give up the ass very often. Trevor craved a bum.
“Oi, you had better open that arse up. Bend over, get on ya hands and knees,” Trevor said. He didn’t wait for Rob to comply though. He just grabbed his ass and pulled his track bottoms down. He bent Rob over on all fours.
Again, girls always made Trevor go slow. Even tarts who gave up the butt easy made Trevor be slow and gentle and use plenty of lube. Trevor didn’t want to do all that. He wanted to destroy some tight asshole. He loved the idea of watching someone squirm in both bliss and agony brought about by Trevor’s massive manhood.
So he spat on his palm a few times and wiped that over his shaft, which was already plenty moist anyway from Rob’s mouth. Trevor thought that ought to be enough.
“Say ‘I’m a poofter and I want Trevor’s cock’.”
“I’m a poofter and I want Trevor’s cock!” Rob shouted.
Trevor hit him in the back of the head. He pulled on Rob’s hair. “I didn’t say to shout it, pansy.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Rob panted. His cock was so hard it felt like it was going to explode. “Please ram me. I need your cock inside me. You’re a real man, you’re a real alpha, I need you-“
Trevor cackled. He spat into the palm of his head and held it in front of Rob’s face. Rob sucked it up and even sucked on Trevor’s hand desperately, moaning as he felt Trevor’s cock rub between his cheeks.
With a surge of adrenaline flowing through him, Trevor bellowed and pounded on his chest as he pistoned his cock right into Rob’s waiting asshole.
“Open that asshole! Let a real man in there, ya li’l mewling pansy-bitch!”
Rob howled as his ass split, Trevor plowing into him so hard Rob drew blood where he bit his lip. A burst of pleasure and pain hit Rob in equal measure, the pain quickly subsiding as his ass adjusted to Trevor’s massive dick. That left behind only an intense and ever-mounting sense of bliss.
Trevor sighed. He wanted to talk, to grunt, to berate Rob — that’s what seemed right to him. That’s what a tough guy should do when ramming a man in the ass, he thought.
But he couldn’t simply because this felt too good. Rob’s ass gripped his cock, clenching, holding on, so Trevor had to rip in and rip out with each thrust of his hips. He would have thought that would tear Rob’s ass to bits, but somehow Rob took it without complaint.
“Stick it in me!” Not only did he not complain, but he shouted out loud.
Trevor couldn’t have that. He liked the idea of plowing into Rob hard enough he couldn’t stop screaming, but he didn’t want everyone in the nearby flats to know what was happening. His own grunts and shouted insults wouldn’t attract as much attention as Rob’s flamboyant, feminine lilt.
So Trevor grabbed another dirty sock, not the one Rob had sucked on before. He rammed it into Rob’s mouth to shut him up. Rob bit on the sock, his hands tightening into claws that dug at the dirty tracksuit beneath him on the floor. The taste was freshly musky and salty, and Rob savored it on his tongue.
That was enough to send Rob over the edge into an orgasm. The taste of Trevor’s scally foot flooded his senses, distracting him from the massive dick tearing his ass up. Rob’s prostate tingled and pulsated where Trevor’s cock throbbed against it.
“God damn!” Trevor groaned. He slapped Rob’s cheeks as a potent orgasm hit him. He didn’t even notice Rob jacking himself off onto the floor, which was filthy enough that Rob’s load wasn’t obvious.
Trevor’s climax was intense and grimy and it made him feel gross but also victorious. “Damn it, poofter, you have got one tight ass.” He chuckled as the first few drops of cum hit Rob’s insides. “Or you did have a tight ass, until now.”
Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, great wads of it filling him up and coating his insides. It seeped into him, and Rob sighed. Trevor grunted. He weighed down on Rob’s back, pinning him to the floor. Trevor hadn’t intended to ram like this. He thought it would feel too awkward to be on top of Rob, his muscles flexing against Rob’s smooth shoulders.
But in the heat of the moment, it didn’t feel too strange. It made Rob twitch and cringe, squirming beneath Trevor as though he was trying to escape. Trevor’s hot breath condensed on Rob’s cheek. It smelled now, strongly of lager since he had started drinking since he belched on Rob’s face earlier.
His cumwad kept coming. Rob couldn’t believe how much he shot. Trevor was young and dumb and full of cum, it seemed, and Rob moaned the entire time as his ass filled up.
At last he was done. He pulled and chuckled as Rob spasmed. Trevor breathed a sigh of relief that he was done. “You are one gross poofter, mate. You kiss your mum with that mouth?” He laughed. He placed one of his bare feet on Rob’s face, making Rob suck on his toes. “You had be’er pay me. You’re not takin’ the piss, are you?”
Rob smiled, too exhausted from the plowing to laugh with him. He sucked on Trevor’s feet — Trevor had unthinkingly put his foot on Rob’s face thinking it would make Rob get up and hand over the money right away. He was so overwhelmed by his climax it didn’t occur to him that Rob would like it.
He jammed his big toe into Rob’s mouth until Rob gagged. Rob’s hands flailed and clawed at Trevor’s trunk-like thighs. His meaty thighs flexed beneath Rob’s touch.
“Thanks for the pills,” Rob said with a gasp when Trevor finally took his foot out of his mouth. “And everything.” Rob grabbed his wallet and counted out two hundred pounds.
Trevor nodded. It hadn’t occurred to him until he saw Rob’s wallet that he didn’t need to abide by any payment amount. He grabbed the entire wallet and pulled all the cash out — that was only an extra tenner, but Trevor didn’t care. This story would be better, he thought, if it was part of a robbery.
Rob blushed and nodded. Trevor scowled at him. “You had be’er get outuh here before I start looking for more money on you. If you had nicer shoes, I’d have already took ‘em.”

The Raunchy Construction Worker

Rob happens upon a crude, catcalling construction worker, and that gives him an idea for his next rough trade target: the Italian macho Vic, who’s hairy and filthy and perfect for Rob. Can Rob handle Vic’s massive alpha male meat? Can he manage to embarrass the shameless stud?!

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“Hey, baby, I’ll lick ya pussy all night long, gurl! I won’t even make you suck me off at the same time, I lick ya pussy just for fun!” he squeezed his dick through the filthy jeans he wore, which had a giant rip that had been amateurly fixed with thread.
The girl scoffed and stormed away. She was pretty, clean, classy — like a lawyer, maybe, Rob thought. She was not the type to be seduced by a catcalling construction worker.
“I lick ya asshole then! That what you want? I lick wherever you want, baby, you just tell my tongue where to go!” He stuck his tongue out to demonstrate, and laughed with all his other worker buddies. When she was almost out of earshot, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Fucking prude!”
The construction worker was dark-haired and swarthy, Italian, probably, or pretending as much. He was muscular, thick-bodied and broad-shouldered like a highway overpass, hairy all over, drenched with sweat, wearing a wifebeater and an orange jacket, along with heavy black boots and a hardhat. He had a cigarette in his mouth, and every few seconds he switched it from one side of his mouth to the other.
Rob confidently walked into the construction site. The man was facing the other way down the street. He snorted at the sight of a fat girl walking past him. “I won’t hate on ya cuz you big, woman. That just means there is more of you to love. Fuckin’ you would be a long-term project! I wouldn’t kick ya outta bed, baby!” he called out.
“I was about to say the same thing to you,” Rob said. He flashed a limp wrist and a big smile.
The man turned to see him. He took a deep drag on his cigarette. “Whatchoo want, princess? This is a closed site. You lookin’ for a pansy?” He pointed to a tall, corpulently fat man, who sat on a piece of heavy machinery eating a sandwich. “That him? Russell. He’s our resident sissy, ain’t ya?!”
“Who you callin’ a sissy, man?”
The two screamed more insults and accusations back at each other. Rob couldn’t hear the other man’s words, but he did pick up that the man — the handsome, not fat one — in front of him was Vic. Vic frowned when he saw Rob still standing there.
“You ain’t allowed on the construction site, man. Whatchoo want?”
“You. I’ll give you five hundred dollars to ramrod me. Right here. Right now,” Rob said.
Vic chuckled a little. He looked down and up. His fellow workers were watching, and it looked to Rob like he really wished no one had seen him get propositioned. The other workers snickered.
“Do it, Vic!”
“Yeah, man. It’s like the opposite of prison! You outside instead of inside, you gettin’ paid fo’ it ‘stead of payin’ a fine, and you givin’ it ‘stead of takin’ it. Opposite of prison.”
Vic blushed, though it wasn’t obvious because his face was smudged with dirt, “Shut up, all you’s fuckers! Shut up ya mouths or I come over there and shut ‘em up!” He blushed an even brighter red. He grabbed his dick through his jeans and affected a cocky laugh. He looked at Rob again. “Seriously though, princess-“
“I’ll eat your ass! I’ll eat your ass with a spoon,” Rob said. One of the other workers burst into guffaws so powerful he fell to the ground. The rest of them howled, calling over men from elsewhere at the construction site. Some of the heavy machinery even stopped, which made the scene much quieter.
A sneer of disgust appeared on Vic’s face. He gagged. “Man, please! Have some self-respect, seriously?! You gonna eat my ass right now! I was gonna make that girl shower first, and she’s about a hundred times cleaner than me! Man, you are messed up if you think-“
“I want to gargle your cum! Please! I can deepthroat anything!” Rob said. He rammed his whole hand into his mouth to demonstrate.
“Nah, man! Nah, man! Nah, man!” Vic repeated it like he was broken. His eyes bugged out. He laughed too, and covered his belly with one hand. “Don’t make me see that, nah, don’t make me see that…”
“He swallowin’ his whole hand! He fistin’ his throat! You see that? Legendary!”
“Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! “
There were probably twenty men over there chanting for him to do it. Vic nodded and sighed. “Man… Six hundred bucks, okay? Man? I’ll do it for six hundred bucks.”
“Fine.”
“And you ain’t puttin’ nothing in my ass! No way!”
“Well… except my tongue.” Rob smirked.
That again prompted peals of laughter from the other workers. They clutched each other and bellowed. They were red-faced.
“You serious about that?” Vic cocked his head to the side. “You know I am sweaty as hell right now? I don’t even know… Man, do people do that?” He chuckled nervously.
“Is that a no?”
He looked shocked. “Oh, it’s a yes, man. For six hundred bucks, I will ran you and let you lick my ass. Hell, I’d let you lick my ass for free cuz no one ever did it before. I’s sayin’ it’s so gross it make me wanna throw up, but I ain’t gonna say no. You only gotta pay me for the cornholin’, you gotta pay for that.”
Rob dropped to his knees in front of Vic, who couldn’t stop laughing. He didn’t laugh animatedly, but he didn’t stop even as he mumbled down at Rob. “Yo, man, this… You are, like… Man, you’s crazy, alright? I’m just… Man, princess and shit, man, I can’t even…”
“Whip it out, Vic!”
“C’mon, you always braggin’ ‘bout it! Let’s see it!”
“Woo-hoo!” They catcalled at him, making porno-movie sounds and whistling like they were at a strip club.
“Take it off, Victor!”
Vic ignored Rob. He faced the other workers and pumped his biceps. He kissed each one. “Man, fuck all you’s guys! I ain’t got nothin’ to be ashamed about!” He undid his fly and let a massive uncut cock flop out. “Bam! See? I got-“
He stopped boasting, and yelped because Rob came up behind him and kissed his bare shoulder. It tasted so salty it brought tears to Rob’s eyes, and there was a layer of gritty dirt atop it. Rob planted his mouth between Vic’s arm and his chest, trying to get to his fuzzy armpit.
“Yo, hey! What? Yo, what?! I can’t even, man, I can’t even… cope with that shit, what the fuck?!” Vic gasped. He slowly lifted one of his arms as though he had no idea it was possible to lick armpits, like he thought Rob might actually be going for his elbow or some other body part. He cackled when Rob dove in to his pits enthusiastically.
“You gettin’ horny, Vic?”
Vic’s face was bright red still, though he tried to cover up his insecurity by laughing and shouting insults at the other workers. His muscles were tense, and they didn’t relax the whole time.
“Yo, you fat-ass bitches are just jealous of my shit, man!” Vic scoffed. He smiled down at Rob. “Alright, princess, you really into pits? Or you just teasin’ me? Huh?”
“I love armpits,” Rob said. He smiled from Vic’s left armpit, whose sweat was smeared over Rob’s face. It was bitter and sharp, and the potent scent made Rob choke even as he swallowed all that he could. He sucked on each kinky black armpit hair, and he lapped at the flesh underneath. He did first the left, then the right armpit. Vic stood there and endured it, giggling like a boom-voiced, raspy-throated schoolboy.
Then Rob planted his lips on Vic’s chest. Vic stopped laughing now, looking down with a disgusted sneer. Rob moved his tongue up Vic’s hairy body, and as he did, he removed Vic’s torn white wifebeater without removing the orange safety vest. Vic looked perfect standing there, covering up his nervousness as his chest throbbed beneath the paper-thin orange vest.
“Yo, fairy, man, you know his chest is dirty as shit, right? He been rollin’ around in dirt! He got grease all ovuh him!”
“Hey fuck you, Russell!” Vic shouted with a deep belly laugh. Rob licked his greasy sweat soaked chest, muscles trembling as he shouted to be heard over the urban traffic not that far away. Vic lit another cigarette and shouted, “At least I ain’t had to have my boss tell me I gotta start showerin’ e’ry day!”
“That’s cuz he know it’s a lost cause wit’ you!”
“I’ll come ovuh there and show you a lost cause, man!” Vic shouted out, but the others laughed so loud they couldn’t hear him. They laughed because Rob started stroking Vic’s meat.
It was long and soft still. Vic didn’t even notice Rob’s hand on his cock because he was so focused on bellowing at the other workers. He dick was delightfully huge — Rob didn’t even hope it would be that big, no wonder he was full of pride, bravado and machismo. It throbbed hotly beneath Rob’s fingers, but it didn’t get hard.
It only perked up only when Vic suddenly jumped, realizing that Rob was on his cock now. He snorted and closed his eyes.
“Aw, man, god damn, ah fuck, man,” Vic said. He bit his lip. He shifted his weight between his feet. “Ah, damn, okay, sorry, man, I swear to God, man, I won’t catcall after no bitches no more, not ever again.” He took a deep drag on his cigarette. His cock twitched and began to firm up in Rob’s hand. Vic’s face was ultra-serious now. “Okay, no, not that. I won’t catcall after any bitches for a month, man, I swear to God. I learned my lesson.” He paused again and chuckled at himself. “I mean females. I won’t catcall after any females for a month.”
“Whatcha gonna spend that money on, Vic? You need a dress that show off ya armpits, that way you can pick up more johns.”
“Tell the dress salesgirl you an autumn, Vic.”
“I will come over there and kick your ass!” Vic shouted. He looked serious enough he might have actually done it — he took a few steps in that direction — but Rob’s hand on his cock kept him here.
Rob dropped to his knees. He kissed Vic on the cocktip. Vic howled and covered his face. Vic was so loud that Rob couldn’t hear the other men, who laughed and yelled jokes at Vic. Meanwhile Rob licked up and down his shaft.
It tasted dirty, of course, rather like his armpit but with a more musky and sweet flavor to it. The dirt here was more smooth, almost muddy — this wasn’t street dust that had collected on his bare skin, it was grime that had collected on his unwashed cock.
Rob could taste the entire day’s work in the filth that had collected on his dick. It was just sweat and a few bits of thread and debris from his pants, Rob knew that, but he felt like he could sense Vic’s entire day from the taste.
He could feel Vic waking up on a ratty mattress on the floor of a small apartment — his dick tasted a bit like one of those bachelor-pad mattresses, with sheets that got washed before girls came over and on no other occasions (he normally went to his girls’s places, so he wouldn’t have to clean up his own apartment). Vic’s sheets didn’t even fit his twin-sized mattress, they were queen-sized sheets.
His dick gradually got hard in Rob’s mouth. There was hesitance in his erection, as though every few seconds Vic realized he was in a man’s mouth and his cock reconsidered getting hard. Rob gurgled merrily on it regardless.
A man like Vic probably didn’t cook his own breakfast, Rob suspected. He might make himself a bowl of cereal, but probably not. He most likely went down to the street and got a egg-and-bacon sandwich from the Pakistani fellow at a nearby bodega. Vic definitely liked carbs — you could see that in the meaty thickness of his body and the plumpness of his asscheeks — he’d have been fat if he didn’t have a calorie-burning job — so he probably got an extra plain bun too, just to munch on while he walked to his jobsite.
Once his dick was hard, Vic crooned and moaned. He made sounds like he was seducing a girl, little kissy noises and sucking on his own teeth. Rob gurgled and made a mess over his face when he tasted precum. He wiped Vic’s fleshy shaft over his lips and nose, so a layer of salty precum coated his face.
“Man… Princess, that is nasty. That is nasty. That is nasty. Fo’ real, I can’t even deal wit’ that. You don’t get nothin’ outta that, man, nothin’. You got my precum all ovuh ya face. Whatcha-?”
“Can I lick your balls?”
He raised one eyebrow. “What? Yeah… I mean… I guess so.”
Rob had to pull his jeans down all the way. He had heavy low-hanging balls, which Rob adored. He could barely fit them both in his mouth, especially since Vic’s scrotum was so slick with sweat that Rob couldn’t get a good grip on them.
“Alright now, that is new, that is real new,” Vic said. He called out to the other workers. “Yo, Jammy-Jew! He doin’ it! He slurpin on mah balls! You’d like that shit! He ain’t gonna mace ya fo’ askin’!” The men laughed, teasing one of their own. Vic looked down at Rob. He ashed his cigarette, some of the ash particles landed on his crotch and adding a bitter charred flavor to his precum. “Jammy-Jew over there — don’t worry, he ain’t a Jew, his last name is Joo-En-Oi.” It sounded like he was trying to say something French. “That’s just what we calls him. Anyway, he that hairy one over there. He ask this girl to suck his balls once and she start yellin’ at him, ends up macing the motherfucker on ‘ccount of his balls is too nasty to even think about.” He threw his cigarette on the ground. “You serious ‘bout lickin’ asshole, princess?”
“Absolutely,” Rob said. His voice was moist and crackling from the ballsweat that coated his tongue.
Rob moaned with anticipation. He pulled off Vic’s balls and moved around to kneel behind him. He kissed each one of Vic’s hairy cheeks, which stank even worse than his balls. His flesh was cold and paler than the rest of his body, though it was still a light nut-brown. Plenty of thick black hairs extended up from his thighs.
“Okay, bend over and spread those cheeks-“
“Nah,” Vic said, and for the first time, there was no humor in his voice at all. He cleared his throat. “Don’t you nevuh tell me to bend over and spread ‘em again. I will kick yo’ ass for real. There ain’t enough money in the world to make me put myself in a bitch-position. Nah. Nah. No way, man. No way, princess. You might be royalty, but you ain’t my queen, no sir, no how, no way,” he said. He shook his head. “You can lick my asshole standing up.”
“Can you squat on my face?”
He looked like he might vomit. He sighed and shook his head, but he muttered yes. Rob got down on the ground and laid on his back.
Vic lowered his hairy ass onto Rob’s face. He squatted as though he was about to jump as high as he could, like a frog. Squatting like that spread his asscheeks, giving Rob easy access to his funky hole.
His tongue plunged in. Vic yelped and squirmed atop Rob’s face. He stuck his tongue straight up, and Vic’s movement meant Rob got to taste every inch of his insides.
Once again, Rob felt like he could sense everything about Vic through his body and the way his filth tasted on Rob’s tongue. Vic fancied himself a ladysman — that was why he catcalled after girls all the time — but he was a lot less successful than he let on. If he cleaned himself up and acted more charming, he’d have tremendous luck with the ladies, who would love his muscles, dimples and square jaw. But he didn’t have the personality for that, and he didn’t care enough to change, he was fine with fucking trashy, slutty girls. Vic would rather be the sexy stud whom all the fat girls want rather than the cute guy who has to work to charm pretty girls. At any given moment, Vic had a half-dozen or so girls he was seeing. He got a handjob at least, if not a blowjob, every night — if none of his females were available, he’d go to one of the whores in the alley behind his apartment. They only charged five bucks for a handjob, and they did it sweet as candy.
His asshole sweated and twinkled around Rob’s tongue. His nose nestled in the hair of Vic’s asscrack, which shook as he yelled back and forth at the other workers. Rob couldn’t hear their words because Vic’s hefty body muffled the sound. Sweat trickled in to Rob’s mouth, flowing constantly from the small of Vic’s back.
Eventually Rob pulled off. He was about to blow his own load, and he wanted to do it with Vic’s cock in his ass. Vic loved booty, so he was excited, especially when he saw that Rob kept his ass shaved.
“Nice and smooth, alright,” Vic said softly so no one but Rob could hear. “Nothin’ personal, man, sorry ‘bout this-” He called out to the other workers- “Man, it’s gross, man, it’s nasty as shit. He got hairy, sloppy butt-“
“You must be used to it, Vic! I seen the girls you date!”
“Yeah, you into lady-sasquatches, Victor! You got no room to complain.”
“Man, I fuck chicks you can’t even dream ‘bout, old man!” Vic called out. Then he spoke to Rob. “Alright, weirdo, I am into ass. This is the part I been lookin’ forward to.” The plump girls who lusted after Vic usually gave up the ass with just a little persuasion, so he had plenty of anal sex.
“Did you enjoy your first rimjob?” Rob asked, licking his lips.
Vic scrunched up his face. His cock throbbed right at the entrance to Rob’s ass. “Well, it felt good, yeah. But I ain’t enjoy it, no.”
Pain exploded in Rob’s body as Vic pushed his cock in. He made more kissy sounds and wrapped one arm around Rob’s neck, putting him in a loose chokehold. He stayed so close Rob could feel the buzzing of his chest hair against Rob’s back.
“You got a nice tight ass, princess,” he said. He gulped and threw his head back. “Nothin’ personal, I’m gonna tell all them you was loose as shit. I gots a rep to protect.”
“Uh-huh.” The pressure in Rob’s ass disappeared, replaced by a torrent of pleasure. Vic’s cock teased his prostate. Vic shoved it in harshly when he realized Rob wasn’t going to complain or fight back, and his meat sent waves of pleasure up Rob’s spine.
“Yo, he loose like a goose, man, I’m gonna have to work hard for my money!”
Vic shuddered, making his cock shift within Rob’s ass. Vic was used to girls having trouble taking his entire manhood, but he was relentless — that was why he made those soft kissy sounds the whole time; he was used to having to continually seduce girls, to remind them that he was sexier than they could normally get, that they had better not disappoint him or he’d stop fucking them. So he had that instinctual need to seduce Rob even as he plowed his ass hard and mercilessly.
“Damn, boy, damn,” Vic said, speaking softly into Rob’s ear. “I ain’t gonna nevuh admit this to no one but you, but you got a nice ass. You take dick like none other, man, I can’t even, uh-huh.” Vic cleared his throat and yelled at his friends. “I’m gonna nut, boys! Who wants to come clean this asshole up?! Huh? You guys hungry? You wanna eat my nut outta his ass? We got spoons in the truck, man!”
Then he closed his eyes and bit his lip. He moaned. He held Rob close against his chest. Rob jacked himself off — since he faced the other workers, they all groaned and turned away — and sprayed his wad all over the construction site ground.
Vic didn’t seem to notice that. He groaned and grunted into Rob’s ear. Then he exhaled slowly, blowing right on Rob’s cheek. Cum sprayed into Rob’s ass, a great big wad of it that was followed by jet after jet of hot juices.
It was creamy and sticky, and it seeped into Rob’s body. He could feel it trickling to every part of him. It leaked out of his ass, into the tangled hair of Vic’s thighs. Vic kept on ramming, drilling his dick in even as he shot his load.
When his cock finally fell limp, Vic pulled out and let out a hoarse croak. His manhood flopped out. Vic looked down at it as though it had betrayed him.
Vic sighed. He rolled his eyes. “Alright, pay up.”
But Rob ignored him. He turned around and removed some napkins from his pants pocket. He gingerly cleaned off Vic’s dick. Vic scoffed but allowed him to do so. Then Rob licked the sweat off his nipples.
“‘Kay, princess, you got ya taste. You got what you paid for.”
“Make a bicep, please! I wanna lick your bicep!” Rob said, loud enough for the other workers to notice the ramrodding was done. They resumed catcalling.
“Make out wit’ him, Vic! Give him his money’s worth!”
“You get him pregnant, Vic? You best pay for the abortion!”
Vic shook his head and scowled. He pumped his right arm. Rob licked the muddy sweat off his curvy arm, which flexed beneath his tongue. Vic laughed like he was ticklish, and Rob slurped up and down his powerful arms.
“C’mon, princess, or uh… Mister whoever. I did my part,” he said. He was plaintive now, like it had only just now occurred to him that Rob might not pay.
But Rob did pay. He handed over six hundred dollars in cash. Vic breathed a sigh of relief, took the cash and pulled his jeans up. He put his filthy t-shirt back on.
“Alright, princess you better go. You ain’t really allowed in here,” Vic said. “And our boss is gonna be here soon.”
Rob nodded. “Thanks, Vic.” He backed away towards the street, slowly, and as he did he yelled at the top of his lungs. The workers — and a few people on the street — listened and laughed, while Vic turned bright red once more. “Thanks for cornholin’ me for money, Victor! You have a nice cock! You should stick it in a girl who ain’t a fat trashy slut sometimes! Thanks for lettin’ me eat your asshole too! Your balls taste like cheese, Vic, and I loved ‘em!”
By that point, a crowd had gathered, laughing and pointing at Vic’s bright red face, too loud for Rob’s catcalling to be heard anymore. Vic chortled and shook, like he was about to either laugh or cry — or both — so hard he shattered. He glared at Rob, who just smiled, gave a little limp-wristed wave and darted off down the street.

The Plumber

Rob hires a plumber with a body to die for and an ex-wife he can’t stand. Luckily Rob is there to help him out with a soft touch, an open mouth and a willing ass!
Can Rob get his plumbing fixed at last?

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Rob had never seen a pleasant plumber. They were always fat and gross in his experience, like a sour frog mated with a rejected hog. So when Dino showed up, his knees went weak. Rob stood there at the front door, quaking like a child.
Dino was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with swarthy skin betraying his Greek heritage, though his accent had the baritone stawk of an American man. He had a dense mop of curly black hair that extended in an unruly mess all the way to his shoulders, not that he had a long hairstyle — he had a short hairstyle that was overgrown enough to cover his nape. He wore a tight wifebeater, much too small for his expansive frame, and a thick layer of curly black hair extruded from beneath it.
He had a surly look about him. A lot of people would have seen him as rude — quite accurately — but Rob didn’t care. Rudeness didn’t bother Rob. Meanness did. Some people had forgotten there was a difference. Rob thought that difference was the most important fact that was largely unknown and unspoken of.
It was a simple job, and it only took a few hours. Rob went away to surf the web. It was difficult to distract himself, and he kept getting hard thinking about Dino there under the sink. Dino was sprawled out, head in the under-sink cabinet, long thick legs stretched across the kitchen floor.
“What?” Dino’s angry voice spat out. It was deep and resonant.
Rob was flush with fear. Had he angered Dino? Had he offended him? He wasn’t even in the same room. He cautiously crept into the kitchen.
“I told you about that.” Dino said. His fingers gripped the cell phone tight as he held it to his ear, rolling out from the undersink cabinet. The wide nostrils of his fat nose flared. His shoulder muscles rippled beneath the wifebeater that was now sweaty and marked with grease. He stood up and paced in the kitchen. “I told you — baby, look, I said I’d pay for it, right? So — so just fuckin’ wait for it! Don’t tell me not to curse at you, you’ve been cursing at me since the moment I answered the phone! Well fuck you, I told you about that and you dumped me, so it’s none of your business, you fat stupid cow!”
He hung up the phone and nearly slammed it on the counter but stopped himself at the last moment. He tossed it into his toolbox instead, then he roared and shadowboxed the air, his face ruddy and his hands tightened into fists.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “That was my bitch ex-wife. She’s such a fucking whore. You know she’s makin’ me pay for my daughter’s makeup? I don’t even think she should be wearing makeup yet, she’s only thirteen. I said no. I threw it all away into the garbage. But I don’t get a say, I just have to pay for it.” His face was red and he paced in Rob’s tiny kitchen. He stopped and looked at Rob. “Sorry. She’s just… She’s being a bitch. Wants me to cough up two hundred bucks out of the blue. Like I’m fuckin’ made of money.”
“I know how you can make two hundred bucks,” Rob said with a flirtatious grin, which he hoped looked nonchalant. “Not plumbing. I mean, in addition to the plumbing.” Rob reached out to pat Dino on the belly through his wifebeater. He had so much body hair there Rob didn’t feel the firmness of his flesh, just the tangle of body hair beneath the fabric of his shirt. Dino showed no reaction. Rob said, “And if you do it the way I tell you, I’ll give you five hundred.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Do what?”
“I’ll give you a hint,” Rob said. He blushed and grabbed for the loose waistband of Dino’s jeans. He tickled the rim of his boxers, and Dino’s eyes opened wide. His muscles all tensed. “It’s long, I’m pretty sure, and thick, and it’s probably a light brown, and I’ll make it feel very good-“
“You, uh…” Dino paused. “You tryin’…?” He looked away and bit his lip.
“Yes. Exactly. I’m not big and tough like you, and I’ve read that playing with the dick of a bigger man can make me stronger. I’ll make you forget that bitch ex-wife,” Rob said. “I just want you to help me embarrass my own embarrassing former family. My dad. He’s disowned me, I like to call him sometimes and let some guy he’d think is white trash make it clear he’s made me his bitch.”
Dino blushed and laughed nervously. He covered his mouth with his face. He grabbed his crotch with his other hand. “Let’s, uh, be clear,” he said. His eyes flashed menacingly. “I ain’t gonna touch your dick. You don’t get up in my ass or nothing. I will rip yo’ face off if you even think about it.”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’ll swallow your dick. You stick me in the ass. You make a lotta noise when I call my stepdad,” Rob said with a shrug.
Dino paused. He caressed his own chest, his muscles rippling as he looked away from Rob — he found eye contact very intense and uncomfortable right now. He sighed like he was going to say yes, but then he stopped and reconsidered. He opened his mouth. He laughed again. “Aw, fuck, it’s for my daughter…”
“A noble cause,” Rob said. He gently touched Dino’s meaty but flat belly, through his wifebeater. Then he pushed one of his fingers beneath the fabric, tracing a trail through the sweaty hair there. His chest muscles rippled when Rob came into contact with them.
“You, uh, want me to take a shower first?” He asked. He raised one arm and sniffed at the pit. “I stink-“
“No!” Rob blushed and rammed his head into Dino’s hairy armpit. He suckled on the coarse, sweat-slickened hairs there, which made Dino chuckle. Normally Dino was ticklish there, but he was too shocked to react that way. He was used to people treating his sweaty, hairy body as gross — as impressive, given his muscles, but still foul-smelling and unpleasant no matter how much he washed. Dino was used to it by now, so he found it weird and off-putting to have someone actually worshiping every inch of his raunchy flesh.
“Damn, you are nasty,” Dino said with a bass chuckle, which Rob heard through the thickness of Dino’s chest.
Rob licked the flesh of Dino’s chest. He licked over Dino’s hairy pecs, lapping at the kinky hairs and sucking up all the sweat. Dino’s muscles rippled as he tensed up. He had never had a girl who was really, genuinely into his muscles and hairy body — they occasionally thought he was handsome enough, but they would have preferred he was smaller and smoother.
But Dino couldn’t do anything about that. He had been beat up too much as a kid to be willing to slim down, and anyway he was a big boy by nature. He put on muscle-weight easily, so he worked out a lot. At first he had only worked out because he wanted to look good for when he picked up chicks. He had simply overshot his goal, and he refused to change his trajectory, so he just kept getting bigger and bigger and less and less appealing to women.
He felt self-conscious and vulnerable when Rob undid his belt and dropped Dino’s heavy workpants. His cock and balls dangled. His dick had never been so limp, and he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get hard. Finally he had the bright idea to bring up some medical-supply catalogue models on his cell phone. Hot chicks dressed as nurses usually got him going. It was close enough to pornography, if you know the right sites to look at.
Rob saw Dino take out his phone and mumble to himself as he looked up some chicks. Rob didn’t mind, he was used to servicing big alphas in need of women to get fully hard. He inhaled deeply of Dino’s musk, then swallowed his dick to the root. It was limp and soft, but as soon as it touched Rob’s tongue, it twitched.
It pulsated in Rob’s mouth. He could tell when Dino found a pic he was really into because his dick jumped and hardened. It went from soft to erect as stonehenge in seconds, and Dino groaned over Rob’s head. He began pumping his hips back and forth, gently at first but with more force with each thrust of his hips. His swollen cock rubbed on Rob’s tongue, while Rob’s hands gripped the hairy firmness of Dino’s thighs.
As the sour taste of precum overwhelmed Rob, he gurgled merrily. Dino tasted salty and sweet, and a little like seawater — his precum tasted like Rob imagined seawater did on a remote Greek island. It tasted sunny and warm and savory, and it made Rob’s mouth water as he savored the creaminess and the brine that assaulted his senses. He licked and lapped at that throbbing cock, while giggling at how it made Dino twist and writhe as though it hurt.
Really though Dino just contorted because it felt so good. His knees were weak. His body was overcome by pleasure wafting over him in waves. He wanted to grab ahold of Rob’s head and fuck his throat like a slut’s pussy. Dino rarely got the chance to cum in anyone’s mouth like that — mostly girls thought his body hair was gross enough that any kind of contact was a favor. Women disliked the way his chest hair, back hair, crotch hair, leg hair and armpit hair all kind bled together into a carpet of fur. Rob loved a hairy man. Dino’s ex-wife had made him lick her pussy without ever sucking his dick, and then when he complained, she called him a misogynist.
None of that bothered Rob in the slightest. He loved a hairy man.
His cock spewing prejizz into Rob’s mouth, Dino grunted. He was still on the page for that nursing catalogue when a call came. It bounced him off the website and those beautiful blonde nurses disappeared. He was angered, especially when he saw that it was his ex-wife again.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” he murmured to himself. He answered the phone, which required him to bend over and grab it from the toolbox he had put it away in. His hairy asscheeks loomed high in the air for just a moment. Then Dino snarled into the phone, “What?”
“You are such an asshole, Dino! You never told me about that slutty bitch at the club. It’s just like Tampa all over again-“
“It is not, you stupid bitch!” Dino screamed. “I did tell you about her, and I ain’t fuck her, and we ain’t together so it wouldn’t be any of ya bizness if I did! I don’t gotta tell you ‘bout this shit!”
“If you ever want to see your daughter, I have to be convinced you have a healthy living environment, Dino. You can’t be getting drunk with sluts.”
“I don’t do that when I have Lydia! You are one miserable bitch of a cock-sucking whore! How’s that accountant’s dick taste, huh?”
“Dino! I can’t deal with you when you’re like this. I oughta send my brother over there-“
“Go ahead, I’ll kick his ass again,” Dino said. “What do you want, Marina? I’m busy right now, I got a girl over.”
You’re not at work?
“She was one of my clients. She been beggin’ for my meat,” Dino said.
Yeah, right. You’re a pussy, Dino. And you’re a hairy fuck.
Dino whispered, “make some sounds like a girl.” Then he put the phone next to Rob’s mouth. Rob blushed but did as he was told. As he swallowed, he made loud gurgling sounds, taking care to ensure his voice was as feminine as could be.
Ew, god, Dino, did you just put the phone near your cock? That sounded disgusting. You’re disgusting. She sounds like a total slut. And she sounds fat.
“You’re disgusting, you stupid bitch,” Dino said. “I gotta go. I got my dick in a girl who’s worth a damn.” He hung up, glad he had gotten the final word for once. That rarely happened. He grinned down at Rob.
His dick throbbed in Rob’s mouth like getting the final word made his erection firmer. Now that Dino had gotten more comfortable with this whole thing, he went ahead and plowed into his throat hard. He wrapped his meaty palms around the back of Rob’s head. Rob paused to situate himself at the perfect angle to deep-throat Dino, who began grinding his dick into Rob’s gullet.
That must have sent a wave of sensations through Dino, who groaned and threw his head back when he felt the earliest tingling of his orgasm. He went slow, not wanting to blow his load so soon. He ground his dick into Rob’s throat, which spasmed and struggled to accept every inch of his load.
Dino had been raised Greek Orthodox, so he was overcome with guilt as he pounded. Dino had always thought masturbation was wrong. A man should save up his seed for the holiness of matrimonial passion. He really ought to start going to church, to prove he’s not a degenerate, but also because his ex could try to get him in legal trouble and a history of going to church would look good in court. Plus Dino’s mother would want be furious if she knew he wasn’t a churchgoer.
It didn’t seem like it should be sinful to Rob. He was just jacking off in a welcome, warm, wet hole — what could be sinful about that? The Bible didn’t forbid it. Rob pulled off Dino’s cock and slobbered on the tip. He smiled up at Dino.
“You’re gonna put on a show on my phone too, right? I wanna embarrass my dad,” Rob said.
Dino shrugged. “Fine, whatevuh.” His muscles rippled again as a shiver of pleasure ran up his body. Rob didn’t even stop servicing his cock when he pulled his own phone out of the pocket, and he didn’t let it pop out of his mouth as he scrolled through his contacts either. Finally, he dialed his dad.
When Rob gave him his phone, Dino was surprised — he assumed Rob would start the conversation. He didn’t know what to say to Rob’s father, and he was so overwhelmed by the pleasure snaking through his body that he didn’t know if he could come up with anything to say.
“Yo. Hey, Mr. Winthrop?” Dino asked, his voice wavering because the pleasure arising from his loins.
Yes. Who, may I ask, is calling? He sounded annoyed at being interrupted. Rob snickered around the cock in his mouth. He’d changed his phone number so his dad would accept his calls again, and it looked like that worked.
“Yo, uh, this is Dino. I just wanted to say thanks, for makin’ ya son. He got a nice tight throat, and my dick fits perfectly down it.”
A loud sigh came from the phone. Am I on speaker-phone? Robert, this is truly immature behavior.
“His mouth is full, sir, full of my dick. He looks good wit’ dick in his throat,” Dino said. “You wanna listen as I stick ‘im? I’m gonna stick him in the ass now.”
He grabbed Rob by the hips, and pulled him off. His dick was cold and alone, begging for attention — Rob tried to stroke it as he got in position, but Dino kept moving, making it impossible to jack him off as they arranged themselves.
Rob dropped his pants and bent over on all fours. He put the phone on the ground in front of his face, so his father could hear everything that happened.
“Hey, Dad! I’m just using my inheritance,” Rob said. “I paid Dino five hundred dollars to stick his dick in me.”
Robert… You shame me.
“I know, but you deserve it,” Rob said. He threw his head back and moaned as Dino slipped into him. There was an intense, uncontrollable pressure. He moaned again, as loud as he could, a powerful, cringing sound that resonated in the kitchen. Rob’s father groaned in disgust.
You don’t need to call me for this.
“I absolutely do!” Rob said. His voice broke as a twinge of pleasure erupted in his prostate. He pushed his ass back, squeezing every inch of Dino’s dick into him.
Now that he had started and was into the groove of it, Dino was less nervous. He was surprised by how easy this really was — Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s. It helped that Rob was such a feminine man, with a bubble-butt that was smooth, clean and unblemished, not to mention tight. He writhed like a sexy snake below Dino’s firm body.
“Yo’ son is a pervert, Mr. Winthrop!” Dino called out. He cackled. “That’s my dick in his ass!”
Really, son, you are disgusting. I’m hanging up now. And then he did so.
Rob was disappointed, but he wasn’t surprised. Dad always hung up once the noise started getting really passionate; Rob liked to imagine that he sobbed once he hung up the phone, but he didn’t know if that was true or not. Rob reached behind himself to spread his asscheeks, giving Dino more access to his asshole.
With a loud roar, Dino slapped Rob’s asscheek. He held onto it tightly as he humped. When he had gotten started, Dino didn’t want to touch any more of Rob than he absolutely had to. He was worried he’d feel some body hair and remember he was deep in a man. He’d be humiliated if his dick went soft in the middle of this.
But now that he was into it, he wasn’t worried about that all. Rob’s ass felt exactly like a girl’s, and he was so smooth he put most girls to shame. Dino gripped his ass and slammed his dick all the way in.
“Take it, bitch, god-damn!”
Once he was more comfortable with it, he knew what position he wanted — no girl ever let him do it for more than a few seconds because they said he was too heavy and hairy. But Dino had long wanted to do it laying on his partner’s back.
So that was what he did. He rammed his dick until it was all the way in, and he wrapped one forearm in front of Rob’s mouth. He sighed and moaned directly into the back of Rob’s head. His sweaty, hairy chest plopped down on Rob’s back. Bliss flooded Dino’s body, making his chest muscles spasm and flex against the smoothness of Rob’s spine and shoulders.
Entirely pinned beneath the Greek giant, Rob couldn’t even squirm, due to Dino’s heavy body pressing down on his back. He couldn’t breathe either, both because of the mass of Greek muscle atop his back and because he was too overcome by passion to take a breath. The body hair scratched Rob’s smooth back and left a sheen of sweat that Rob both felt and smelled.
“Hell, bitch, slut… You take dick good, damn! You must do this a lot…”
Dino rotated his hips, moving his dick in a wide circle within Rob’s ass. He hit every corner of Rob’s insides, his cock aiming into every part of Rob’s guts. He could even tell — as disgusting as it was — when his dick touched Rob’s prostate because it made Rob writhe beneath his body. He couldn’t move much, but Dino could feel his body struggle to squirm, and he sensed the pleasure roiling Rob’s innards.
Rob gasped, and Dino grunted.
Finally Dino felt his orgasm coming on strong. Rob had stopped breathing, the pressure in his ass so intense he couldn’t even gasp. Dino snorted like a hog, the sound of his rutting filling the air and echoing in Rob’s ears. Spasm of pleasure wracked both men’s bodies, which made Dino’s muscles ripple while Rob gaspingly pressed his back into Dino’s hairy chest.
“Here I go, baby, gonna fill you up, I love you so much, sweetheart-” Dino stopped and blushed because he remembered he wasn’t talking to a female. Luckily Rob either didn’t hear his words or didn’t take them seriously.
A wad of hot cum sprayed into Rob’s ass. Dino groaned loudly, his deep voice resonant and rough like sandpaper. His cum was hot and creamy, and it seeped into Rob’s flesh. Rob moaned as he shot his own load onto the floor and into his hand. Dino wrinkled his nose in disgust — he hadn’t known Rob was pleasuring himself — but he didn’t stop Rob even if it seemed disrespectful. Dino had been raised to believe a real man commanded respect, and he didn’t let his bitch distract him.
But this was too potent an orgasm to do anything while it still coursed through his veins. Dino’s hands curled into claws, then tightened into fists. He smacked Rob, not outright punching him of course, but hitting him in an affectionate way — or at least he saw it as affectionate; Rob saw it as bullying, but he was so aroused by it so he didn’t complain — harder than he would have ever hit a girl. More and more jizz jetted into Rob, until he was drenched inside and couldn’t even feel if it was still happening. But he could still feel Dino’s thickness throbbing within him, as cream and santorum dripped out between his legs.
He burped and laughed. Any girl would have kicked him out of bed for burping in their face, but Rob inhaled deeply of it and moaned. Dino screwed his nose up in disgust. His cock slowly limpened, but he remained in position, deep in Rob’s ass, his heavy body pressing down on Rob’s back.
“You ain’t gonna stiff me, is you?” Dino asked. It hadn’t occurred to him before now that Rob could just refuse to pay him, and Dino would have no recourse. He should have demanded money upfront. His dick still lay in Rob’s ass, its pulsations sending waves of pleasure up his spine.
“No. I won’t. I’ve got cash in my wallet,” Rob said, his voice strained and clipped. He bit his lip and moaned.
Dino nodded and moved to get up. When he did, his dick swam through the sea of cum that gurgled within Rob’s ass. He could feel the sticky fluid clinging to his soft cockflesh. Rivulets of jizz slid out Rob’s behind and onto the floor.
“Wait,” Rob said. “Can you stay there for a moment? I like feeling you inside me.”
“Fine,” Dino said with a grunt. It now felt pretty gross — this was more what he had imagined it would feel like before he started. He was intimately aware with every passing moment that he was inside a man’s ass. There was no way to pretend he was with a woman, not now. He reached out and grabbed Rob’s pants. “In here?”
“Yeah.” Rob’s voice was weak and wavery.
Dino pulled out the wallet. He briefly considered stealing Rob’s credit cards, but he figured someone as wealthy as Rob probably had excellent security on the cards, and Dino didn’t want to get in any legal trouble, as he might lose the right to see his daughter at all. He pulled out the cash — there was six hundred dollars in there. He took it all, though he had only been promised five hundred dollars.
“I’m taking six hundred dollars. The extra hundred bucks is for the performance I put on for your daddy,” Dino said. He pulled his dick out of Rob’s ass. “And you still gotta pay for the sink too.”
“Okay,” Rob said with a sigh. He turned around and frotted his dick with Dino’s much bigger, caramel-colored shaft. He smushed them both together.
Dino sneered. “That’s nasty, that’s nasty,” he said. But he let it continue for a few seconds, looking away. “I ain’t do no circle-jerkin’ since I was a merchant marine.” He glanced at Rob’s curious face. “When I lived in Greece, I was a merchant marine. Ain’t no females around, just a buncha A-rabs, and they do, y’know…” His cheeks turned red. “They do circle-jerkin’. I ain’t wanna.” He laughed. “But I did.” He finally put his cock away.
“Thanks, Dino,” Rob said. “You’re a great plumber.”

The Linebacker

Avery is offended by the hazing horseplay of the GHU football team, so they come by to say sorry and give him a ride on the player of his choice. Avery is all too happy to forgive them, but then he turns down the six-packed studs everyone thought Avery would pick…

Instead he opts for the stout linebacker they call Gravyboat! Can Avery handle this thick-ass jock’s mountain of manmeat?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When the waiting room to the massage parlor erupted in noise, Avery assumed it was a mistake. There was a bar next door, so maybe this group of rambunctious dudes had intended to go there and entered the wrong door. That seemed probable. They were whooping like this was the last stop on a pub crawl.
Avery hurried out to the waiting room, where he stopped short.
The entire football team from the GHU campus had come, more than fifty men filling into the cramped space, which had twelve chairs. Avery was flummoxed by the conglomeration of young bucks in loose-fitting sweatpants and ripped t-shirts.
“Youths…” Avery furrowed his brow. There was a time when he sought the vitality of young men. And he still did, in his own way. But Avery was more mature now. He had more to lose. He did not like the way they leaned on his chairs and the counter and the bamboo mats on the wall, and he could smell their feet from here, or maybe that was them, not just their feet, but Avery didn’t like it.
He wrinkled his nose.
They all spoke at once, the air filling with bravado, threats and challenges. At least three spoke to Avery, who couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. Two of the young men began arm-wrestling, which required them to get down on the floor on their bellies. The armwrestling, Avery later determined, was to decide which of the two “called dibs on upstairs for the party tonight, broh”. Six of them explained simultaneously why that was important. It involved girls. They wanted to fuck, presumably.
Avery could sympathize with that. He didn’t feel the same way, but he understood the impulse.
“Hey, hey, shut up, y’all, e’ryone shut up!” shouted the square-jawed quarterback, Jimmy, who looked like a Disney prince with a powerful shock of blond hair and broad shoulders like a plow. His brilliant eyes flashed handsomely. He made Avery’s heart flutter. His muscles rippled under the jersey he wore, not a jersey for his team, it was a 49ers jersey.
That was when Avery spotted Quinn Webblehutt, the quiet one in the corner, looking like he didn’t want to be noticed. He sat in a chair properly, and he blushed when he laughed. He avoided eye contact with Avery.
That’s because Avery knew Quinn. He came in last weekend.
Quinn was a freshman linebacker, and he was fat. He was also very strong and athletic and he was very fast for his size, but he was more than four hundred pounds and he had a belly that could fit a dozen Averys. He had come into the massage parlor and gotten a massage. Afterwards, he took out his disgusting fat dick and farted with his disgusting fat ass and told Avery to “lube up”.
That fucking asshole had come in here thinking Avery was some kind of cum receptacle of last resort for peanut-dicked hairy lardasses. Quinn said that he was being hazed, that he was told he had to come here and ram the fuck out of Avery and that Avery was to bend over and take it in whatever position Davy chose.
Anyway, Avery might choose to service a man he liked, someone with a physique worth admiring. But he did not take watery loads from some nineteen-year-old behemoth who smelled like a load of bread that got left out in the rain, and he did not appreciate his services being assumed. He said that first to Quinn and second on the phone to the head coach at the GHU athletic department. Coach Marshall Shapiro.
Now Quinn was over there in the corner looking chagrined as a toddler, eyes aimed at his feet. He didn’t talk to anyone.
“Hey, y’all, shut up!” Jimmy shouted again and again until they finally fell more or less quiet. Jimmy cleared his throat and spoke to Avery. “Uh, look… So, we heard, like… You were pretty mad ’bout the, you know… hazing.” Jimmy smiled, showing off his dimples. A girl could drown in those dimples, Avery thought. Jimmy flashed his grin like he thought it would get him out of any problem. “We didn’t mean that you had to, y’know… do anything. It wasn’t like… it was just a little thing that got out of control. You know, hazing. Nobody was like… it wasn’t required.”
A few of the other players laughed. Avery crossed his arms over his chest. He felt very small right now, but powerful.
“So, uh… We… I — I, very much, but also we, we need you to call Coach Marshall, and, uh, tell him that we’re okay now. You gotta tell him we apologized and everything’s alright, broh. It’s all good. He won’t stop being, like… he’s been like very shouty, it’s been, you know… Like…” Jimmy blushed like Quinn, as an underhushing arose from the assembled jocks, some of whom played out like they were grabbing each other’s balls and squeezing, which made them silently laugh. That made Avery suspect Coach Marshall had squeezed the shit out of Jimmy’s balls. “Coach Marshall was like… mega-pissed. I mean, you just gotta tell him that, alright? Tell him you accepted our apology.”
“You haven’t apologized,” Avery said.
“Oh, yeah.” Jimmy stripped off his shirt and flexed his muscles in front of Avery’s face. His chest was broad and clean, brightly pale, his six-pack etched, his pecs rippling like a sea in a storm. He got down on his knees as though he was going to propose marriage. “I’m sorry. I apologize for not respecting you and having the… not respect to, uh… I’m an in-grate. I was in-grating. I was ingrated. Ingrating to you. Disrespectfully,” he said. So… I apologize.” Then his eyes lit up. “And Quinn’s a fucking dumbass, I made him run a buncha laps and do this thing… It’s gross, but it’s like… He sucked on my jockstraps for a whole practice-” The players all tittered. “It was in his helmet. It’s cool, he’s cool You’re cool, man. We’re cool. All cool now.” He raised his eyebrows in Avery’s direction.
“Hmm.”
“And, to make up for it,” Jimmy said with a wry grin and a smile. “You can — you don’t got to — but you can, if you want… You can pick one of us, and uh… y’know…” He blushed. “You can do, like… If you want ‘em in ya ass, y’know… Whoever you pick gonna do it. Anyone you want.” He again made his pecs ripple and flexed his six-pack in Avery’s direction. A few guys snorted and snickered at him. Jimmy smiled again. He seemed to think Avery would pick him, presumably because he was the one girls threw themselves at. His body language suggested the picking was just a formality, and it was already a given that Jimmy would be the choice.
Avery smiled. “So you’re going to apologize for assuming I wanted to get it up the ass from a stranger by allowing me to pick the stranger?”
Jimmy shrugged. “Well, yeah. Kinda.” He paused. “Yes. That exactly, that’s what we’re doing. Sorry, is that-?”
“That’s fine,” Avery said, but he rolled his eyes. That seemed like a bad lesson for Coach Marshall to be teaching. But Avery really did want to take it up the ass from someone in this room. A linebacker, in fact, not the quarterback Jimmy. Not the freshman linebacker Quinn.
The entire room was silent. Avery’s heart thumped. These men all looked at him.
Avery already knew who he was going to choose. There was a senior linebacker with pale skin and a massive barrel-shaped frame, kneeling because there were no more chairs available. He was big and brutish in a crude, cavemanish way. He was Gravyboat — his real name was Davy. He looked like the kind of beast that Avery wanted. He was exactly the kind of man Avery wanted most: too big and too raunchy for girls, too hairy, too rough, crude, rude and overwhelmingly massive. His hair was thick and greasy, his chin scruffy, his clothes stained and torn. He didn’t have a six-pack at all, but he wasn’t fat either. He had just the right amount of heft over his powerful body.
“Who you want, huh?”
“He’ll pick Jimmy. Or Raython if he likes black dick, like Kelly-“
“Shut up, broh-“
“Don’t give him ideas, nigga!”
“-jacked me off in the exam room-“
“Fuck you-“
Avery just ignored their arguments. He walked slowly through the crowd, tickling each one. He grabbed their asses and even kissed their biceps as though carefully inspecting each player to see who fit his needs. When a pair of cocky black guys pulled their dicks out together to show off how big they were, Avery gave each one a stroke and nodded.
“Nice ones, sure,” Avery said. He was about to move on, but then he had an idea. “Sword-fight.”
They must not have heard that term, cuz they both looked confused for a moment, then their eyes lit up at the same time. They flopped their limp dicks at each other, laughing and jumping away, then they came closer and did it again as the rest of the team erupted in laughter. A few others did the same — sword-fighting right there in the waiting room — but Avery just moved on.
“Sorry guys, stop by and see me sometime. Come together.” He winked at them, and they both erupted in furious laughter, which made their dicks jiggle like fat baseball bats in an earthquake. Avery moved on down the line. “Don’t stop swordfighting.”
The two black guys — Raython and Easy — laughed and chortled, and they kept their dicks touching. They avoided looking at each other or at Avery after that, they just kept their heads cocked to the side as their fronts jutted towards each other so their limp cocks smushed against each other. Easy and Raython more or less stopped sword-fighting, they watched Avery instead, but they did keep their dicks touching, which Avery appreciated.
But he kept on going, tracing the outline of one handsome stud’s pectoral muscles and even kissing his bare nipple, prompting another outpouring of chatter and laughter from the others. But Avery at last stopped when he reached the one they called Gravyboat, who kneeled in a ratty old t-shirt without sleeves.
“Lift your arm,” Avery said.
Gravyboat furrowed his brow, but did so, emitting a baritone laugh to conceal his anxiety as his teammates chuckled. Avery hadn’t gone for anyone else’s armpit. But Gravyboat was sweaty and unwashed, and Avery could tell that he was going to be fragrant. Avery sniffed his armpit, which was rank and made Avery’s cock throb in his pants. The team erupted in applause, and Gravyboat blushed — it took a lot for him to be embarrassed, but that was enough.
“Gravyboat! Gravyboat! Gravyboat!”
“Do the Gravyboat!”
The “Grayboat” was a dance and an intimidation tactic on the field. Gravyboat had a deep voice befitting his massive size, and when he let out a warcry, it could be heard over the cheering fans in the stadium, at least on the sidelines. He did a shaking-ass dance at the same time. The crowd went wild, always did. He had spent hours practicing it back in high school.
But it felt awkward to do it now, off the field, outside of practice and in front of this tiny flamboyant weirdo. Gravyboat did it because his friends demanded it. He roared and flexed his muscles all at once, cringing because he felt Avery’s feminine fingers stroking him as he did.
It was a joke because Gravyboat did not have a perfect body. Not fat like Quinn, Gravyboat — Davy Mitchell — was just thick. He was perfectly thick, in Avery’s view. The other football players mostly competed on their six-packs. It was only Gravyboat, Quinn and a handful of others who had any meat on their bones.
Gravyboat blushed so red Avery wondered if he was going to pass out, while Avery’s hands explored his chest and the firmness underneath the padding atop his torso. He even licked a trail from Gravyboat’s neck — which Avery had to practically jump up to reach — down to his pecs, feeling his lungs expel that awesome cloud from his cavernous lungs. His anxiety made his pecs and stomach and shoulders and arms all ripple in turn.
“I choose you,” Avery said, just in case it wasn’t obvious. “Will you carry me into the room?”
Gravyboat blushed. Part of why he had adopted the Gravyboat-persona was that he found it difficult to present himself well — he didn’t have the patience to wash and brush his hair, to shave, to wear deodorant every single day, to always shower after a workout, to do his laundry and wear clean clothes. He found that the best way to overcome the teasing and snickering was to get so big and muscular that people were scared of him and to pretend that his behavior was a deliberate choice, that it came with being The Gravyboat.
But he had never been sexy as far as he was concerned. He got girls sometimes, but they never seemed satisfied with him. They told him when to shower (seemingly all the time), they tried to get him to cut his hair, shave his chest, wear beard-oil, which he thought was preposterous, and even cologne, which he hated.
So he blushed beet-red as he scooped Avery up in his arms and carried him into the back of the massage parlor. His friends laughed, clapped and slapped Gravyboat’s plump asscheeks as he walked past them. Avery laughed too, and one of his arms wrapped around Gravyboat’s barrel-shaped body to hug his thickness close.
In the massage room, Gravyboat put Avery down. It was impossibly quiet back here, once the door slammed shut, the carrying-on in the waiting room now sounding distant and faded. Gravyboat’s smile disappeared. Gravyboat wondered if he smelled bad, or if he looked dumb and unfashionable. Why didn’t Avery choose someone who knew how to pick out clothes? He was surprised that Avery had gone for him instead of Jimmy, whom the girls loved and who always wore impeccable clothing, or one of those black tight ends who danced well and smelled like coconut lotion. One of them had an old dude who jerked him off for money all the time. He says — the old dude says — the cum of a young black athlete will make his own dick bigger and his erections last longer.
Maybe that was true. Gravyboat was still not gonna drink a black dude’s cum. He blushed and looked down at his ugly boxish shoes, which he had to buy at a fat dude’s store.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked. “You look nervous. It won’t hurt, I promise. You’ll like it.”
Gravyboat shrugged. “I ain’t never done this.” He blushed again and bit his lip. “I mean… I’ll do it, I don’t care. Ass is ass, right?” He pounded on his chest and made that warcry again — no dance this time, cuz the massage room was small — the sound prompted whooping and cheers from out in the hall, where some of his teammates listened at the door — but now it sounded forced and weak, at least to Gravyboat himself. They weren’t into it. If you do it too much, the crowd loses interest, Gravyboat had learned that. Always leave ’em wanting more.
Avery giggled. He liked Gravyboat’s machismo being inhibited by his anxiety. It was cute. Gravyboat’s hairy body trembled as Avery pulled his shorts down. His crotch smelled strongly, not bad, but it smelled of fresh sweat and old cum. It smelled like the crotch of a man who jacked off a lot.
That was exactly true. Gravyboat did jack himself off a lot. The women threw themselves at Jimmy and Raython, not Gravyboat and Quinn.
He bristled and firmed up as soon as Avery touched his cock. He jiggled and grunted. Not knowing how to react, he stood motionless, like he was at a doctor’s appointment. He opened his eyes wide, arms forming fists that dangled stiffly at his side. He murmured to himself as his dick got rock-hard right away.
“You sure get hard quick. You must be real horny,” Avery said. He smiled.
His cock throbbed in Avery’s grasp. Gravyboat stared at it like it was disobeying him. He gulped and looked at Avery. “I get girls. I had a girlfriend.”
“I wasn’t implying anything,” Avery said. “You have such a big dick. You must have hurt your girlfriend, huh?”
Flattery seemed to help Gravyboat relax. He grunted his acknowledgment as his dick throbbed. It was thick as a coke can, smooth aside from one clear vein running up the undershaft. Avery liked how it pulsated in his grip.
When it was fully hard, Avery put the tip in his mouth. Gravyboat sucked in his breath, which Avery both heard and felt in his cock twinging. Avery giggled around the meat in his mouth, which he licked and slathered spit on. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft.
“Wait, wait,” Gravyboat covered his eyes with one arm. He shifted his weight on his feet.
Avery did not wait right away. He wanted to make sure Gravyboat felt the pleasure of Avery’s cock on his shaft, as Avery slurped and spat up all up over it. Both of Avery’s hands worked it too. When Gravyboat stilled looked too tense, Avery pulled his mouth off it. He kissed it on the piss-slit. “You have a nice cock.” He thwacked it on his own face. It was so thick and heavy it was like a club, but Avery enjoyed the meatiness of it when it slapped against his flesh.
“This is so weird. Raython does it all the time. He has an old guy. White guy. I think he hasn’t said, oh shit, my god, shit, so like, his name is Raython, he’s the one out there with… I don’t know, what, a shirt probably it’s cool but anyway he’s okay, he’s okay, Raython is, what was I saying. Raython Lake. That’s his name. The black guy, I don’t know the white guy’s name. I guess maybe he’s not white, I don’t know. Raython just says he’s ‘my old guy’. He buys him beer and stuff. Shirts.” Gravyboat sounded like a man on the verge of exploding. “Uh-uh. So that’s cool. I’m not asking you to buy me anything! I mean, just, I was sayin’, Raython does it all the time.”
Avery wasn’t listening. He stuck his tongue out and ran it down Grayboat’s shaft, then slurped up some of the spit he left behind. Gravyboat’s voice wavered and broke. He gasped.
Once the taste of salty precum hit Avery’s tongue, he knew Gravyboat was ready for the next step. Avery turned around and bent over. Gravyboat stood perfectly upright, chest as he pretended he wasn’t nervous. He was glad Avery’s ass was smooth and hairless, like a girl’s.
“Oh…” Gravyboat grunted in surprised as his manhood slipped into Avery’s ass. He was expecting it to be uncomfortable — the girls he had fucked in the ass had been small and delicate and unsure about Gravyboat’s size and his willingness to go slow, so those experiences had not been entirely successful. He had never had someone take charge of forcing his uncut cock into their tight asshole before. He just stood there like an idiot, arms flailing in mid-air.
Then he slapped Avery’s asscheek and groaned. He blushed, thinking it was too weird to touch Avery’s ass. But he couldn’t stop himself. It felt so good to spread those cheeks and give himself better access to Avery’s tight hole, which he drilled into inexorably. Avery’s cheeks even jiggled kinda, not exactly like a girl’s but not entirely unlike a girl’s. Gravyboat was glad to not have a girl telling him to slow down every few seconds. He was glad that Avery didn’t even consider backing out because his dick was too big or because his breath smelled like garlic fries.
He had intended to remain like that, standing upright, so he didn’t have to touch Avery. But as his orgasm approached, Gravyboat found himself losing his inhibitions.
“Open that ass up, damn…” His voice was hoarse and monstrous, he thought, and it caused Avery to shudder.
That wasn’t actually his voice that made Avery shudder, it was his cock, sending sparks of sensation up Avery’s spine. He was adept at taking big cocks, but Gravyboat’s was exceptionally thick, and it filled him up in a most delightful way. Avery intended to make loud orgasm sounds to embarrass Gravyboat in front of his friends, but it turned out to feel so good he didn’t have a choice. He made those sounds by instinct, and he cried out for more.
Finally he wrapped one of his broad arms around Avery’s face, and they both went down to the ground. Gravyboat didn’t mind. The idea of rutting on the floor was nasty and raunchy and perfect. Avery was too enthralled by the intense pressure in his ass to even consider the location important.
Gravyboat’s chest rubbed against Avery’s smooth back as he slammed his cock in and out. He was aware of his teammates peering in through the door, shushing each other and running away when they caught a glimpse. Someone even threw something at him, maybe a paper airplane? He was too engrossed in Avery’s ass to go look.
“Ah, fuck!” Gravyboat roared. He pounded away at Avery’s ass, using his entire body to drill Avery into the massage room floor. Avery was only dimly aware of the discomfort and pain that resulted, because his prostate exploded in intense pleasure.
Avery barely even touched his cock before an orgasm erupted within him. He moaned, the sound drowned out by Gravyboat’s baritone bellow. He writhed, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Cum flew into his ass, while Avery shot his own jizz too, onto the floor.
So much cum filled him up that Avery could do little more than lay there and bask in the glory of creamy heat seeping into him. The puddle of cum on the floor from his own load coated his belly.
As he shot his wad, Gravyboat didn’t stop fucking. He kept grunting, the sound breaking, interrupted with moist exhalations as he slathered spit over the back of Avery’s head. He gripped Avery in a tight chokehold, making it hard to breathe.
“Fuck, broh, take it, don’t move, don’t move.” Gravyboat’s voice was plaintive and desperate. His hot breath condensed on Avery’s cheek. “Shit.”
They were both motionless for a moment. Gravyboat’s cock shot another wad of cum, a final jet of heat seeping into Avery’s guts, and Avery felt it trickle out of his ass. It puddled up on the floor of Avery’s massage room.
Then all at once, they both fell limp. Gravyboat landed on top of Avery, plopping there, his dick limpening inside him. Avery was utterly unable to breathe, or tell Gravyboat to get of. He couldn’t even squirm.
He wasn’t upset though.He exulted in the feel of Gravyboat’s muscles enveloping him, the musk of his unwashed body potent now that he was covered in fresh sweat.
“Shit, man.” Gravyboat coughed. He got up, his dick plopping out of Avery’s ass. “Shit… Shit, man.” He took a deep breath.
Avery sat up, heaving for air. He was exhausted. He had never been taken a dick that felt that good. He stood on uneasy legs. “Thanks,” he said weakly.
Gravyboat nodded. His swarthy face was crimson from both embarrassment and exhaustion. He thought if he said anything, his voice might break, so he was quiet. He put his tattered jockstrap on without bothering to clean his cock off.
Jimmy stuck his head in the door, but kept his eyes aimed upward so he didn’t see anything. “Did you bite his head off, Gravyboat?”
“No. He was a perfect gentleman,” Avery said. He smiled at Gravyboat, who walked out carrying his clothes. He wore nothing but that jockstrap, which was soaked to transparency with the fluids that clung to Gravyboat’s cock. Gravyboat sniffled like he didn’t care as his teammates howled and slapped his hairy asscheeks, which were bare, cradled by that jockstrap. Those two black guys, Raython and Easy, were still dick-to-dick because Avery never said they could stop sword-fighting, and they still avoided looking at each other.
Jimmy furrowed his handsomeness in Avery’s direction. “Really? A gentleman?”
Avery nodded. “He was perfect. You can send me men like him anytime. I’ve got plenty of happy endings to give out.”

The Yakuza Bottoms

When Avery is accosted by a yakuza enforcer for the second time, he thought he was gonna hafta pay protection fees or something similar… But it turns out this yakuza alpha male needs to bend over and take whatever Avery wants to give out! Can Avery help Wuzu recover his reputation?

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Or read the whole thing here!

Avery felt like celebrating, so he poured himself a glass of wine. He didn’t often drink, mainly because of the calories. And he found that, the older he got, the more alcohol made him sleepy instead of drunk. The taste of wine was splendid though. When he was young, he would rather drink more worse. When he was older, he would rather drink less better.
But he had no sooner taken a sip, when there was a knock at the door.
Scowling, Avery put down his glass of wine. He rolled his eyes. Probably his neighbor. Like an idiot, he opened it without checking who was there.
His blood ran cold when he saw a familiar face.
His name was Wuzu, and he was an enforcer for Clan Rairakku, a Maui-based yakuza syndicate that played a major role in business here in San Francisco. It had been Wuzu who came to Avery a year ago and threatened him if he didn’t back out of a business deal. Avery did back out — he had no need to fight for business opportunities, and he had been unsure on the viability of that particular deal anyway. Avery was considering a location for a massage parlor, and he had chosen a different one. No big deal.
But now the same stone-facing Japanese man was here again, looking down at Avery. Wuzu’s eyes flashed and sparkled, though he showed no emotion on his face. His only emotion was “stern”, it seemed.
But this time, there was a faint note of something else on Wuzu’s face, some excitement, apprehension maybe even eagerness. His eyes scanned up and down, taking in Avery’s petite frame.
“Oh, hello, Wuzu. I did what you asked.”
“Indeed.”
“Hmmm…” Avery found Wuzu’s stare unbearable. He looked down at his feet. “So, uh… It’s all good, right?”
“Yes.” Wuzu’s voice was clear as a lighthouse. “Good evening, Mister Flowers. May I enter?” His Japanese accent was thick: goo-ood eve-en-nin Missuhtaa Flao-za with the rhythm of an elegant machine gun. Despite that, he wasn’t hard to understand.
Last time, Wuzu had barged right in. This time, he spoke with politeness and a calm breath. Avery could tell this was not a threatening visit.
“Uh… I guess so,” Avery said, more out of confusion than anything else. Last time, Wuzu hadn’t phrased it as an option. He immediately regretted it — why invite an extortionist into his home?
But Wuzu was more intimidating than Avery could handle.
He was tall, especially for a Japanese man, towering over Avery by nearly a foot. He was broad-shouldered and burly, with a square jaw and dark, menacing eyes that flitted this way and that as he entered. His eyes were always in motion, even when his head and the rest of him stayed still, and he walked with the light step and grace of a man a third his size.
“Is anyone else here?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response before walking throughout the apartment to check. He stopped and stared at a bonsai tree that Avery placed on a shelf in front of a window. He scoffed as though he didn’t approve. Avery blushed.
“No, no one’s here,” Avery said.
A long pause split open between them. Avery was behind Wuzu, taking in the thickness of his corded-muscle legs and ass, which strained the fine fabric of his suit. He dressed like a banker, even if he was built like a baseball player. He wore some odd cologne too, which smelled — not exactly bad, but not good either — it smelled like a hot spring in the woods. Moist and freshly fern-like, yet musty and sulfurous. Flashes of his colorful tattoos were visible on the edges of his wrist, ankles and neck, but only when his movements separated the fabric of his suit from its natural resting position.
“That’s my bonsai tree, it-“
“It is lacking in balance,” Wuzu said. He plucked one leaf off a branch, and he delicately, deliberately placed the leaf in the trash can beside the door.
“Oh. Well. Um,” Avery was too nervous to think of any response. “Okay. Sorry. I’m, uh… It was a Christmas present.”
Again a pause erupted in Avery’s apartment, and it was shattered by Wuzu’s smooth baritone. “I am here because of shame,” Wuzu said, his voice deep and resonant.
“I see,” Avery said, though that wasn’t true at all. This time, the silence spread like a kudzu through the room, and it strangled every thought Avery had. Wuzu’s stare was intense. He didn’t get why Wuzu could come here because of shame. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with Avery.
Wuzu’s simmering gaze was hard to ignore. A part of Avery’s mind brainstormed ways to get him to leave — order him out, call the police, forgive him for his shame, simply show him the door, offer him money to leave — there were so many options. But in the end, all Avery could think to do was to pat the soil of his bonsai tree to see if it needed water. It did not. Avery already knew that. He watered it like an hour ago. It was just nice to have something to occupy his hands for a few seconds, while Wuzu stood and loomed and cogitated like a block of morose tofu.
Is he breathing? Avery furrowed his brow. Wuzu’s chest moved only very slightly and very slowly, like he was trying not to show that he was breathing.
Finally, Wuzu spoke. “You must discuss with my boss. His name is Mr. Gakimosimi. You must be respectful. Do not interrupt him,” Wuzu said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke a few Japanese words, then passed the phone to Avery.
“Uh, hello?”
A deep British-accented voice came from the receiver. It was a thin, reedy voice, like an old man. “Mr. Flowers, I presume?” A trace of a Japanese accent was detectible.
“Yes, uh, sir.”
“My name is Timo Gakimosimi,” he said. “This man in front of you — I do not speak his name right now, because he has brought intense shame upon my organization. He has failed in a way I will not describe to you, but be assured it is humiliating for him. He must show me the depth of his sorrow and regret. Do you understand?”
“Uh, sort of. I mean, I get-“
“Stop speaking,” he said. “Do not babble. Americans always babble.”
“Sorry…” Avery was finding this whole situation incomprehensible. At most times, Avery would be defensive of some foreigner talking shit about Americans. But Avery had an inexplicable eagerness to obey the man on the phone — Mr. Gakimosimi — and so he shut his mouth to avoid babbling.
“The man in front of you will do anything you say. If he refuses, you may call me at this number and tell me. He will be punished further. Is that agreeable?”
Avery hesitated. “I mean… I don’t have… a job for him. I don’t need a, uh… extortionist.”
“He is a business consultant, but that is not what I expect you to order him to do,” he said. “I will not say it, as it is improper, but you will think of something he can do to please you.”
“Will I?” Avery furrowed his brow. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.
But when he looked at Wuzu, Avery realized exactly what was intended: he was supposed to have his way with Wuzu. Make him jerk Avery off, swallow his cum, take it up the ass. That’s what Wuzu was expecting, what Mr. Gakimosimi was expecting. They were looking for a sissy, and somebody — maybe Wuzu himself — suggested Avery. Wuzu’s hangdog expression sent a shiver of anticipation up Avery’s backside.
“Yes. I think you know what I mean,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “If he pleases you to a satisfactory degree, I will clear his name of shame. Thank you, Mr. Flowers.” Then he hung up.
Avery nervously handed the phone back to Wuzu. “So, uh… I guess you know what he said?”
Wuzu nodded.
“I’m not going to force you into anything. I’ll just tell your boss you did fine, that you did everything I said. How much time should I give? Maybe you could just fix my bonsai tree? You could give it balance.”
“I have done that,” Wuzu said with a polite nod that was almost a bow. “I have requested this.” He sunk to his knees in front of Avery. “My shame wounds me. I can only heal it by proving my devotion.” He took off his suit jacket, which he hung over the arm of the chair next to him. Then he picked it up, and he smoothed the suit jacket, so it would hang flat when he returned it to the arm of the chair
“I don’t want to force you-“
“You are not forcing me. This will not be my first time. Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi that,” Wuzu said. He unbuttoned his shirt, then carefully folded it — it was a perfect fold, like he could work at The Gap. Underneath that, he wore a plain white t-shirt, his tattooed muscles bulging out from underneath. Green and black koi swum on his bicep just past the sleeve of his shirt.
“Wait…” Avery said as Wuzu was about to take the shirt off. “Lemme get that.” He shivered with anticipation, struck by a flood of desire, as he touched Wuzu’s flat belly and pulled the t-shirt over his head. He had an amazing physique — Avery hadn’t realized it under the suit, but he was built like a professional wrestler, with pecs the size of Avery’s head. Multicolored tattoos danced over his chest and ribs: smiling geishas, a stylized sun whose rays bathed a living Japan over his heart, and geometric designs covering his six-pack belly with color. His back was an ornate piece, a Shinto temple that coverd him from his nape to his waist.
Avery kissed those biceps, one after the other, blushing in embarrassment at Wuzu’s bemused reaction. Wuzu seemed unfamiliar with the concept of being interested in muscles. Did no Japanese women value muscles? Avery sure did. He sucked a hickey onto each bicep, savoring the rock-hard feel and the overwhelming warmth.
Then he dived his head into Wuzu’s armpit. Like most pit-worshipers, Avery had always enjoyed the musty flavor of hairy, burly armpits, but Wuzu was the opposite of that. He had short, thin hair that was soft and silky, and that smelled of soap, not cheap body wash either, but expensive, high-quality soap that smelled of lavender and mint.
“You like arm pits?” Wuzu said, his stony yakuza face suddenly leering like a nervous frat boy covering up his anxiety with disgust. “That is fil-thy.”
Avery nodded. “That’s the part I love about it,” he said with a giggle, which turned almost hysterical when Wuzu’s serious face stared him down. Then Avery sucked on each nipple. Avery had never felt pectoral muscles like this, so completely lacking in flab — he didn’t think it even existed outside of bodybuilders, action stars and pro athletes. But here there was, right in front of him, a pair of pecs made of iron and covered in multicolored tattoos. Avery licked a trail around those tattoos as his hands stroked Wuzu’s broad, smooth back.
He dropped his pants when Avery excitedly took his own clothes off. He assumed he’d be jerking Wuzu off, which was plenty exciting for Avery. Much to his surprise, however, Wuzu sunk to his knees when Avery dropped his underwear. Wuzu took a deep breath, then swallowed Avery’s half-hard cock to the root.
“Oh shit, Wuzu… I, uh… I didn’t think you’d want to do this,” Avery said. Wuzu let out a loud gagging sound but didn’t stop, even as Avery’s dick pushed into the back of his throat. He did not spit any of it out. His nose collided with Avery’s crotch, and he held onto Avery’s thin hips for support.
Wuzu’s tongue wavered — it touched Avery’s cockshaft and pulled away, hiding in the corner of Wuzu’s cheek as though fearful of the taste. Wuzu scrunched up his face. But then he recommitted himself to going through with this, and his tongue slathered saliva up and down Avery’s shaft.
“Wuzu… You don’t have to do this,” Avery said, still feeling a bit bad. He definitely didn’t want to take advantage of Wuzu — aside from the moral considerations, it was clear that Wuzu was a violent extortionist who sought revenge when he felt he needed to. Avery didn’t want any yakuza getting mad at him. For all Avery knew, Wuzu would seek to eliminate anyone who knew his shame — Mr. Gakimosimi had said that, when this was done, Wuzu’s shame would be wiped away, so maybe he would get rid of anyone who knew about it. Maybe once it had happened, he would be free to be violent again.
“No,” Wuzu said softly, pulling away and closing his eyes like he couldn’t bare to see Avery’s cock with his spit stuck to it. Wuzu growled. “This is the only way to recover my honor and the honor of Clan Rairakku,” he said. He took a deep breath and resumed his deep-throating, his throat choking as Avery’s dick squeezed into it.
His nose pressed into Avery’s wiry pubic hair. Avery was so shocked his knees went weak, but he managed to compose himself. He gripped Wuzu’s neatly-coiffed hair, which was slick with product and thoroughly brushed. He held on as tightly as he could, leaning on Wuzu for support as his legs had trouble supporting himself.
His dick perked right up in Wuzu’s mouth, turning as hard as Wuzu’s biceps. Avery’s hips instinctively gyrated, and he humped Wuzu’s mouth. That sent waves of pleasure to rock Avery’s body from head to toe.
Since there was such a big difference in size between Wuzu and Avery — Wuzu being nearly a foot taller — the positioning of the two was awkward. Wuzu had to stoop, leaning forward on his knees just to get his face at Avery’s crotch-height. His muscles writhed and flexed as he struggled to stay in position, and his unwillingness gradually melted away. Avery got the impression that he stopped feeling ashamed of himself and started feeling pride at his success in rehabilitating his name and his honor, even if only in his mind.
Then Wuzu pulled away and turned around. Thin tendrils of spit still connected Avery’s dick to Wuzu’s lips, until him turning his head forced them to separate. Avery nearly fell over because he had been supporting himself on Wuzu’s head. Even now that Wuzu had stopped, Avery was filled with intense pangs of pleasure.
“Wow, you really want to do this?” Avery’s voice was thin, reedy, like if he actually asked this out loud Wuzu might realize what he was doing and run away, but Avery couldn’t help but ask anyway. His heart pounded. This was more nerve-wracking than it had been when Wuzu came by to extort him last year.
But Wuzu merely grunted his assent. He did appear embarrassed, his face ruddy and sweaty, lips trembling, but he didn’t hesitate at all. He turned around and sunk to the ground in front of Avery.
He started off on all fours, his round smooth ass elevated for Avery to get into. But Avery was much too short for that to work, so once again they struggled to get in position. Avery had trouble getting his dick there, and Wuzu had to lower himself as far as he could go, until he was practically laying down.
By time Avery managed to mount him, Wuzu had lowered himself all the way, and he now rested on his belly on the floor, limbs sprawled out. Avery had to spread himself atop Wuzu, aiming his ass for the taut crack of Wuzu’s tight ass. Laying his face on Wuzu’s broad back, Avery licked the muscles there as he worked his dick in.
He gasped as soon as his manhood slipped past Wuzu’s tight sphincter. It sent up sparks of bliss, which made Avery throw his head back. From the first moment, Avery could feel his orgasm crawling up in his sac, and Avery was annoyed with himself that this wasn’t going to last very long. He could already tell.
Wuzu’s back muscles were like a barrel of thick rope, and Avery nuzzled and licked every inch as he began humping. He felt tiny behind Wuzu, his entire body fitting easily on Wuzu’s back. Avery’s head barely even extended all the way to Wuzu’s meaty shoulders.
Some Japanese words slipped from Wuzu’s mouth. His tone was soft and resigned, maybe a little relieved that he was getting this over with and the pain wasn’t so bad. It might have been a prayer, Avery thought, and he wanted to ask for a translation, but his arousal was too intense to form words, and in any case, he didn’t think Wuzu would tell him what he meant.
Wuzu grunted, then fell stoic again. Avery began working his dick in and out, glad to feel that Wuzu was not resisting him — he got the impression Wuzu didn’t mind this at all, despite his words and the pain he was obviously feeling. Wuzu gyrated his hips as though he was aroused.
“Do you want a reacharound?” Avery asked as soon as the idea occurred to him. That would make this easier for Wuzu as well, he thought — every man loves a free handjob. Wuzu nodded. Avery reached around Wuzu’s body to grab ahold of his dick. He began stroking it — Wuzu was already rock-hard, so in seconds, he was spewing precum into Avery’s fingers. He was obviously turned on by this, Avery realized, despite the pain and humiliation.
Then Avery realized that Wuzu’s dick spasmed every time Avery penetrated him from a certain angle. That could only mean one thing: Avery had found Wuzu’s prostate, and Wuzu loved it. Avery began ramming his dick in as hard as he could at that prostate, smiling as Wuzu’s entire body jerked with the lust that pounded through his veins. Wuzu moaned and lifted his head up.
A cell phone rang. They both stopped moving as though caught, Avery’s cock pulsating within Wuzu, Wuzu’s cock pulsating in Avery’s hand. It was Wuzu’s phone. Avery’s blood ran cold and his heart skipped a beat as his mind raced with terrible possibilities — what if Mr. Gakimosimi decided to order Wuzu to kill Avery, perhaps to save his clan’s face? Avery was terrified of what might come next.
Wuzu winced when he verified that it was his boss. “Mr. Gakimosimi,” he said, even bowing the best he could laying on his belly. He winced and said something in Japanese, then handed the phone back to Avery.
“Are you bringing shame upon him?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked the moment Avery put the receiver to his ear.
“I don’t think it’s so shameful,” Avery said. His cock pulsated in Wuzu’s tight ass, and though Avery was still, his hips continued moving, grinding his dick within Wuzu’s guts. Avery wanted to be even more indignant, but he thought he might get Wuzu in trouble, so he said, “But yes, he is ashamed of what’s happening. I’m ramrodding him, as we say here, or black guys do anyway. My dick is in his ass-“
“I do not need the details. Make it hurt,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “Ask him if he did his best.”
“Uh… Wuzu… did you do your best?”
“Yes, always,” Wuzu said. It sounded like this was a past argument between them, or more likely a one-sided argument since Wuzu simply stated things declaratively, rather than argue about them. Wuzu spoke simply, proudly, as though all he cared about was that he did his best. Mr. Gakimosimi, on the other hand, scoffed like he didn’t care about doing one’s best — all he cared about was results, and whatever had happened between them, Wuzu was held responsible for the results.
“Ask him about the penis in his butt-ocks.” His Japanese accent was mich stronger when he said butt-ocks for some reason.
“Uh…. Mr. Gakimosimi wants me to ask you about the cock in your ass,” Avery said.
“There is… a man’s cock inside me,” Wuzu said. “It is… There is approx-imate-lee twenty-two centimeters of cock inside me. I submit to a man. I am allowing him to pluck my manhood.”
“Good,” Mr. Gakimosimi said with a cocky sigh. “You are doing well, Mr. Flowers. Do you enjoy my man?”
“Yes, very much,” Avery said. He gritted his teeth because his sensitive dick throbbed within Wuzu’s tight ass. It sent shivers of pleasure up Avery’s body, and he bit back a petite moan.
“Good. I am glad,” Mr. Gakimosimi said. “I assumed you would want revenge on him for extorting you.”
“Not really. Besides,” Avery said, “I know you are the one truly responsible. You extorted me. You just used him as a tool.” Avery was surprised at how easily he spoke once he got started, despite the intense sensation writhing its way up his body. This was too intense for Avery to censor himself. Wuzu’s ass clenched around his cock when it became apparent that Avery was talking back to Mr. Gakimosimi. Avery felt a surge of pride alongside the fear that Mr. Gakimosimi would seek to punish him.
But Mr. Gakimosimi just sighed and chuckled. “You misunderstand, Mr. Flowers. He chose you as a target for extortion. Yes, I charged him with finding businesses that could pay. But he was the one who decided that you were an appropriate target.”
“Oh…” Avery was too turned on and too close to orgasm to be able to pay attention to his words or formulate a response. Does that mean it was Wuzu’s fault to begin with? Or was Wuzu forced into it? In what sense was Mr. Gakimosimi the boss if Wuzu decided who to target, how to pressure them and then enacted the entire plan by himself? That was too weighty a conversation to have when his balls were on the verge of busting though, so Avery didn’t ask.
Mr. Gakimosimi laughed into the phone. Avery got the impression he didn’t laugh often. Wuzu bucked and winced as though he heard it.
“You will finish inside him, yes? You will ejac-u-late in his ass?” Mr. Gakimosimi asked, sounding like he was uncomfortable talking about semen and again his accent was excessive on that one word.
“Yes…”
“Good. Tell him to be back here by noon, or I will send him back to you again,” Mr. Gakimosimi said and hung up the phone without waiting for a response.
“Your boss is an asshole,” Avery said, giving him his phone back. “He said you have to be back at noon, or he’ll send you back to me again.”
Wuzu nodded. A moan escaped from his lips as he writhed beneath Avery’s grasp. “I have great respect for him,” Wuzu said in a pinched, clipped voice.
“I appreciate that, Wuzu,” Avery said. A part of him wanted to accuse Wuzu of extortion, but that required more thought than he was capable right now. He felt his orgasm approaching like an oncoming train.
Avery resumed slamming his hips harder and harder against Wuzu’s powerful frame. Pleasure washed over his body, and Wuzu’s at the same time. He could feel an imminent orgasm pounding through Wuzu as well. He sensed it in the pulsating of the veins in Wuzu’s cockshaft.
They both finally climaxed at the same time, hot cum spraying within Wuzu’s ass as he shot his own load into Avery’s fingers. Wuzu’s muscles all tensed at once, and he gasped with a short, sharp breath. Fat ropes of jizz spurted onto the floor, reaching several feet in front of Wuzu and a few drops even splattered on the wall.
Avery clutched those spasming back muscles, fingers digging playfully into the colorful yakuza tattoos. He threw his head back as Wuzu grunted beneath him. Wad after creamy wad spurted across Avery’s fingers, while Avery shot his own wad deep into Wuzu. Avery’s cheeks turned red, and his moan of intense sensations turned into a howl of desperate desire. When the pleasure grew too much, Avery pumped his hips at Wuzu’s tight ass, while he slammed his face on the meaty thickness of Wuzu’s back.
Holding his head up while his dick limpened inside Wuzu, Avery licked his lips, still feeling the aftershocks of his climax. Wuzu turned his head to watch with a sense of disgust on his face as Avery sucked down every salty drop of cum.
Then, at last Wuzu pulled out from under Avery and breathed a sigh of relief. Hot cum dribbled from his smooth ass. “Thank you,” he said. He wiped the cum off his ass and his inner thigh with a handkerchief he plucked from the suit jacket he’d placed on the arm of Avery’s chair. “I enjoyed that.”
“Really?”
Wuzu nodded. “Do not tell Mr. Gakimosimi, or he will find some other way to punish me instead.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Come on back anytime you need to be ‘punished’,” Avery said. He gave Wuzu a light smack on the ass, watching his plump cheek shake as he checked that his clothes were not wrinkled. Wuzu began dressing. Avery wiped his own dick clean, and he said, “I’m always ready to dish out punishment.”

The Cop

Desmond has long heard tales of the cruel cop known as Officer Awful, but Desmond can’t wait to experience the kind of punishment Awful metes out! He likes to make men bend over and take it, which is exactly what Desmond craves.

Can Desmond handle the punishment Officer Awful has in store?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Desmond staggered down the road, pretending to be drunk. Well, partially pretending. He was drunk, just not extremely drunk. He staggered like he was extremely drunk. He’d had a few drinks to settle his nerves, which didn’t work. His heart raced. He had never done anything quite like this before. The city was quiet but bustling in the early evening. Desmond stood out both because he appeared to be drunk and because he was the only black man here.
Sure enough, the first part of his plan worked: Desmond saw the police car pull to a stop, and Officer Auffernan got out. He was tall and strapping, his broad shoulders barely fitting into the uniform shirt he wore. He was both a literal and figurative redneck, his tan skin having a ruddy hue from working outside. He had a military crew-cut, but his hair was a dark blond so it almost looked like he had a bald head.
“Young man, come here,” he said. He sounded both bored and aggressive, and Desmond shivered in anticipation.
He smiled, dropping the drunken act. “What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“You drunk…?” Auffernan asked, eyebrows furrowing as he realized mid-question that Desmond no longer seemed drunk.
“No, sir. But you can charge me with public intoxication if you want.”
He chewed on his lip. He looked like the kind of man who was not often surprised during the course of his work and didn’t much like it now that it had happened. “What’s yer game, boy?”
The way he drawled out the word boy made Desmond shiver again. This time it must have been obvious that it was sexual, and Auffernan bristled. Desmond felt cold and small, and he had to resist the urge to grope Auffernan’s broad chest right now, here in public.
“I probably shouldn’t say in front of all these people,” Desmond said. There were a few onlookers on the other side of the street. No one was close enough they could hear, but it certainly wasn’t private.
“I feel like you wastin’ my time, boy. So I’m gonna put you in handcuffs for now and take you down to the station. I’ll figure out why later,” he said. He slapped cuffs on Desmond, whose dick burst into life when Auffernan’s hands gripped his wrists.
As soon as he was in the back of the cop car, Desmond caught a whiff of leather and sweat and uniformed musk. He took a deep breath before Officer Auffernan got in the front seat and drove off.
“Well, boy, out with it. What ain’t ya wanna say in public?”
“I’ve heard you… sometimes take young black men and have your way with them, and-“
“You one of them Black Lives Matter folks?” He looked away from the steering wheel, frowning at Desmond.
“No, sir.” Desmond’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest. “I was hoping you’d have your way with me.”
Auffernan paused, then let out a long, booming laugh. “Well, boy,” he said. “First of all, I do not have my way with black men, or wit’ no one I arrest. That would be a crime.”
“Certainly.”
“Let’s say if’n I was gonna do somethin’ like that, I wouldn’t be targetin’ black folks. I love black folks. My deputy is as black as night,” Auffernan said. His squad car glided down the moonlit street. “But I don’t like thugs. I don’t like cocky thugs comin’ down here and making a stink in my nice little town.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You ain’t a thug.”
“No, sir.”
“So you see my problem, boy?”
“You won’t abuse me because I’m not a thug?”
“I ain’t say that. I don’t abuse no one.”
“Would it help if I acted like a thug?”
“Boy, you the queen of all the sissies.” Auffernan said. “I doubt you could pull that off.”
Desmond knew Auffernan was right. He could not pull off a thug act. He tried his best though. He leaned back in the backseat and gave off the disaffected air of a real thug. “You, pig, you best jerk ma dick like ya life depends on it, muddahfuckah-“
“That ain’t workin’. You about as thug as Urkel, boy,” Auffernan said. He sniffled and sighed. “You know I gotta charge you, right? I called this in. There gonna be questions if I just let you go.”
“That’s fine.”
“Gonna be a two hundred dollar fine,” Auffernan said.
“I can afford it.”
“Well hell, ain’t you the uppity kind? You loaded or what?” Auffernan said with a laugh. He made eye contact with Desmond in the rearview mirror.
“Not exactly loaded,” Desmond said. “But I can afford a couple fines.”
Auffernan pulled into the parking lot of the police station. It was a tiny building, barely bigger than an efficiency apartment. Auffernan dragged Desmond out of the back seat. Desmond struggled like a thug the best he could.
“Yo, pig, get off me!”
Auffernan dragged him to his feet. He whistled. “You really like it when it hurts, huh?” He tightly gripped Desmond’s arm with one meaty hand, causing a twinge of pain where Desmond’s wrists were bound.
“Yes, officer. Pig. Go fuck a donut.”
As he walked him to the front door, Auffernan snorted in derision. “Shit, most thugs get more creative than that, boy.” He slapped his thigh.
“I’ll work on that,” Desmond said. He followed Auffernan inside the police station.
There was no one inside. It was just an open room with a few desks scattered about, and at one end was an office — Auffernan’s, presumably. The other end had two small jail cells. That was where Auffernan led Desmond. He added a second pair of handcuffs attaching the first pair around Desmond’s wrists to the cell bars, so Desmond was forced to face away from the rest of the station. “You wait there, bitch. Gonna make you show a little respec’.”
Desmond shuddered. He felt sure Auffernan was going to do it now, and his dick raged in his pants. He had trouble sounding like a thug when he was so horny and so desperate to be submissive. “Who you calling a bitch, pig?”
There was a loud clattering noise, then Auffernan loudly locked the front door. “You shouldn’t be comin’ ‘round to my town and insultin’ me, boy.”
“You evolved in a cave, cracker!”
That made Auffernan stop walking. His menacing cop routine vanished. “What?”
Desmond dropped his thug act as well. “It’s a Five-Percenter thing.”
There was another long silence. “What?”
“Five-Percenters. They believe white people evolved in a cave… Nevermind,” he said. “It’s just what I thought a thug might insult you with-“
“Ain’t all people evolve in a cave? Like cavemen?”
Desmond shrugged. “I dunno. I guess so.”
“Every black person I ever arrested was better at insulting me than you is,” Auffernan said with a sigh. “Even this deaf motherfucker I arrested a couple years back.” Auffernan was right behind Desmond now, unbuttoning his shirt. Desmond moaned.
Desmond could hear Auffernan taking his clothes off but couldn’t see him. The police station had become dark since Auffernan turned the lights off, leaving only the illumination of the emergency lighting in the jail cell.
“Sorry,” Desmond said. “I’ll try to get better.”
“You want something to bite on, boy?” Auffernan asked. He was right behind Desmond now, so close his breath condensed on Desmond’s cheek. He wrapped a piece of red vinyl cloth in front of Desmond’s face, like a tether he could bite on.
As Desmond opened his mouth to let it in, he realized what it was — a Confederate flag. That made him feel even hornier, and he wished he could take his pants off.
“Ain’t nothing racist about me using this flag, boy. ‘S just about culture and heritage, not race,” Auffernan said. “You got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I use this flag e’ry time I got a northerner come down here, need to be reminded he ain’t from ‘round these parts,” Auffernan said.
“You fucking honky,” Desmond said. He meant for it to sound threatening, but it came out like a seductive groan as the situation made him aroused and panty.
“You gonna jerk me off, boy.”
“Yes, oh god yes!”
“T’weren’t a question,” Auffernan said. “It was a prediction.” He uncuffed Desmond from the cell bars, leaving his wrists cuffed together. He pushed Desmond to his knees. “You ain’t gonna bite me, right?”
“I won’t bite! I promise!”
“I’m sure you won’t. And you got nice soft lips, so I think I’m gonna like this,” Auffernan said. He had a wide, strapping body and a furry blond chest. He had unbuttoned his uniform shirt but not taken it off, revealing a Confederate flag wifebeater underneath, torn and stained with sweat around the armpits. Auffernan still wore his black uniform slacks.
“Can I lick your armpits, officer?”
Auffernan sneered in disgust. “Yes, but you can’t enjoy it. That’s gross,” he said.
“Fuck you, pig, you can’t tell me what to do. Muddahfuckah,” Desmond said. He smiled and attacked Auffernan’s left pit. He inhaled deeply and licked the hairs there, tasting the stale salt of past sweats sticking to his skin. He managed to gag in an authentic way — it was musky and disgusting in an objective sense, so it was easy to respond like it was foul, even if Desmond actually loved it. “Oh god yes,” Desmond said as he moved to the other armpit. “Don’t make me suck on your balls next.”
Auffernan chuckled. “You like swallowin’ white balls?”
“I like the taste of redneck balls.”
Auffernan’s eyes flashed darkly. “I don’t like it when people who ain’t rednecks call me a redneck. Seems kinda like a slur,” he said.
“Let’s talk punishment, hillbilly,” Desmond said before diving his head between Auffernan’s legs. He still wore his slacks so Desmond’s tongue wettened the fabric, which was salty and sour.
“Oh now, I ain’t a hillbilly. I ain’t that rural,” Auffernan said as he undid his belt. His pants fell to his ankles, and he had on a pair of white briefs, dingy and grayed. His cock and balls bulged, thick pubic hair sneaking around the edges of the fabric.
Desmond whistled. “You sure you ain’t part black? You got a massive slab of meat there, ‘specially for a redneck.”
“You just tryin’-a piss me off now, boy.”
“I’ve been trying to piss you off since you arrested me,” Desmond said. He used his teeth to bite the elastic of the briefs, then awkwardly pulled them down — he was still handcuffed, so that was the only way to do it. He had never done this with briefs before — only boxers, but he had ample experience with them — and it was awkward. Auffernan looked down at him with his arms folded over his chest.
“There’s a part of my ballsac-” the way he drawled out ballsac to last for what seemed like ten syllables to Desmond — “thass always itchin’ me, boy. I wanna see if yo’ tongue can scratch that itch.”
As much as a part of Desmond wanted to go right for the dick, which was plump and already stirring with a trace of erection, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. He stuck his head between Auffernan’s legs and licked his balls.
They were thick and heavy, dripping with sweat — there was air conditioning in the station, but it did not seem to be effective, and the building remained extraordinarily hot, making Auffernan’s balls slippery. The sweat flowed from those hairy balls right down Desmond’s greedily guzzling throat. The musty, salty flavor exploded on Desmond’s tongue, and he gurgled as he savored it.
Auffernan pointed to the rear of his balls, having to awkwardly reach behind his own ass to get his finger there. “Right there,” he said. The spot was right where his scrotum met his taint, and it was covered in sweat-stickied hairs.
Without taking Auffernan’s overflowing ballsac from his mouth, Desmond stretched his tongue out to that spot. The taste was grimy and dirty, making Desmond moan around the flesh that quivered in his mouth. He had to strain to get his tongue out that far, but when he touched it, Auffernan grunted.
“Damn, you one hell of a ballslurper,” Auffernan said as though he was shocked. “Ain’t nevuh had no one suck my balls who really liked it, I guess.” His dick sprang to full erection above Desmond’s face, and it twitched every time Desmond lapped at Auffernan’s sensitive sac.
Goober in. Auffernan, you there? What’s up?”
Auffernan reached to the uniform shirt that he had placed on a nearby desk. He grabbed the radio mic off it and said to Desmond, “This is that black deputy I was tellin’ you about. He always messin’ wit’ pinkboys. Keep quiet fo’ now,” Then he spoke into the mic. “Hey, Goober. Nothin’ going on right now. I picked up a drunk boy. You might have some interest in him.”
A long pause. Crap. My wife’s gonna kill him. Rashaad right? He promised he wouldn’t drink outside the home. Was he on liquor? His mom made him promise only beer-
“Nah, stop, Goober, no-” Auffernan said until Goober stopped talking long enough that Auffernan could transmit. “Nah, not one of yer boys like yer son. I just mean he’s black.”
Oh, well, whatever. You givin’ him the standard welcome?
“Even as we speak,” Auffernan said with a chuckle. “He got a real sour look on his face, and he making these chipmunk sounds.” He held the mic near Desmond’s face so the sound of his moist sputtering could be heard. “You hear that?”
Not really. Just sounds like static. I’m sure it’s a pretty sound. You tell him to keep it real for me, Auffernan. I’m-a go serve that warrant now.
“Roger that,” Auffernan said. He put the radio mic down. Then he looked down at Desmond’s red face and bugging eyes. “You keep it real, okay?”
“Yes, officer,” Desmond said through the balls filling up his mouth.
“You ready to swallow that dick?”
His dick had gotten rock-hard from Desmond’s attention to his balls, and from his position underneath the massive cop, Auffernan’s cock took up almost all of Desmond’s field of vision. He gurgled his excited agreement around the ballflesh overflowing from his throat, which continued to send trickles of tasty fluids down Desmond’s throat.
He pulled away, keeping his mouth open so Auffernan could see the pool of drool and sweat that had collected in the back of his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and licked the entire shaft from root to tip. It twitched. With his tongue, Desmond traced the veins that ran up the side of the shaft. He choked up plenty of spit, which ran down Auffernan’s dick into his bushy forest of crotch hair.
Auffernan lost his disaffected pose, and he shuddered, pleasure visibly rippling through him. His arms were crossed over his chest, but as Desmond licked, he clutched at his body and played with his nipples as though uncontrollably aroused.
“Shit, yeah!” Auffernan muttered. “You do that good!” Desmond swallowed his precum-leaking cocktip, letting that mess of fluids in his mouth leak out and down Auffernan’s shaft to moisten it up. Auffernan sighed. He leaned against the cell bars. “Shit…”
Desmond began deep-throating him in earnest, working his dick all the way down his throat. He was an expert cock-sucker, so he didn’t need to gag on it, but he liked to, both because it was enjoyable on its own terms and because it made Auffernan get cockier, which turned Desmond on.
“You can’t handle this much meat, huh?”
He didn’t want to stop to answer, so Desmond just said ‘no, it’s too much!’ around the meat in his throat. All that came out was a gurgling sound, but Auffernan seemed to get the gist of what he was saying.
“Lemme lube it up some,” Auffernan said. He very slowly spat, letting a thick wad of saliva drip down, plopping onto Desmond’s upper lip as he slid down the shaft.
Desmond suckled the spit into his mouth as he stretched his jaw and got all the way down. Then he let that spit roll out down Auffernan’s shaft, as Auffernan grunted. His knees buckled. His balls crawled up in his sac as though about to cum, but then Auffernan removed Desmond’s face from his cock. He lightly slapped it.
“You’s tryna’-a make me cum too early,” he said. “I’m cornholin’ you in the ass, boy. Ain’t gonna let you cum neither.” He chuckled throatily. “You ain’t gettin’ outta here with an intact booty. No way. Not on Auffernan’s watch.”
“Never, you fuckin’ pig!” Desmond said. He stood up, taking a deep breath now that his throat was clear. He grabbed the cell bars with his cuffed wrists and stuck his ass out a bit to give Auffernan a good angle. “I’ll fuck you up, officer!”
“Speaking of pigs,” Auffernan said as he rammed his dick in. A jolt of pain shot up Desmond’s spine, and he howled. Auffernan gripped him by the waist. “Lemme hear you squeal.”
Desmond squealed as loud as he could. He wasn’t sure how pig-like it was, but it was an animalistic squeal anyway. The cock in his ass pushed in a little farther, pulsating deep within him. It awakened a chord of intense pleasure that sounded up from his booty, traveling up his spine and hitting him with a wave of exquisite sensations.
“That ain’t a pig. You just squealed like a… big, retarded rooster,” Auffernan said. “Try it again. Like this.” Then he made a rough, honking noise — to Desmond, he wanted to say it sounded like an angry goose. But he didn’t argue, the pleasure exploding in his ass was too intense to form any words. He just made the sound the best he could.
Auffernan’s dick was all the way in him now, and Desmond’s prostate throbbed with every thrust of his cock. He squealed again, making that angry goose sound.
“Hey, here, make that sound again,” Auffernan said, shoving the radio mic in front of Desmond’s face. He pushed the ‘transmit’ button.
Desmond squealed as loud as he could to be sure the mic could pick it up. The pain was melting away now as his ass loosened up, and Auffernan’s cock flowed in and out easily. Auffernan slammed with all his mind, ramming Desmond into the cell bars with each thrust of his hips.
After a few seconds, there was a click, and then Deputy Goober’s bass laughter came out of the radio.
There a pig loose in the station, hoss? Want me to get the assholes at Animal Control?
“Nah, I got this piggie under control. He just makin’ noise to let me know he feel strongly ‘bout what’s happenin’ to him,” Auffernan said into the radio. Then he whispered into Desmond’s ear, “Alright, boy, I’m-a give you this flag to bite on again.”
The cold vinyl Confederate flag again pushed between Desmond’s lips. He bit down hard, which made the plowing a little easier to take. The fabric was thick enough to have some purchase, so he could relieve the pressure he felt with a strong clamp of his teeth on the flag. As he did so, he bucked his ass backward, forcing it deep onto Auffernan’s cock — he wanted to make this as good as possible for Officer Auffernan, who groaned appreciatively. That groan turned into a shudder like he was holding back his orgasm.
“Fuck yeah,” Auffernan said. He looked around as though checking for anyone else in the station, then whispered again. “Look… I learned somethin’ in the military, a sorta rule. I don’t follow it on the force,” he said. “Cuz normally I only cornhole pissheads.” He took a deep breath. His hands reached around Desmond’s body, squeezing first his nipples as though Auffernan hoped to find tits there. Then his hands roamed lower down until they came to Desmond’s rock-hard cock. Auffernan pulled away for a moment like he was scared. Then he resumed touching and even stroking Desmond’s dick with one hand, while his other hand held the flag in place in Desmond’s mouth. Auffernan moaned, sounding a little disgusted. “My drill sergeant said you can ram a man in the ass, but you gotta give a reacharound. It’s against the rules otherwise.”
“Really?” Desmond asked through gritted teeth, his voice muffled by the flag that was still in his mouth.
Auffernan shrugged. “I’m sure that wasn’t a real Army rule or nothin’. Just what my drill sergeant was into,” he said. “You ever tell anyone, I will get you locked up — not here where you gonna get rammed all the time neither, I’ll get you locked up somewhere terrible where the guards are all fat.”
“Won’t. Tell.” Desmond could barely speak. His ass was on fire with orgasmic energy, while his dick pulsated beneath Auffernan’s fingers. He wished he could prolong it, but he was already bucking and shooting his load. All it took was a few strokes from a massively muscled alpha like Officer Auffernan.
“Dang, boy, you nut fast!” Auffernan let out a wolf whistle.
Semen sprayed across Auffernan’s fingers and into the cell, dripping all over the floor and coating the cell bars in Desmond’s cream. Desmond groaned loudly, and then Auffernan did likewise, but with a more grossed-out tenor, his hand still stroking Desmond’s orgasming cock. He lifted the fingers of his other hand to Desmond’s face, where he wiped cum the cum off his hands onto Desmond’s cheeks.
Then he took both ends of the flag in his hands, pulling tight so Desmond’s head was forced upward. As though he needed to reassert his masculinity after touching Desmond’s cock, Officer Auffernan began pounding his dick in and out, all the way with each powerful stroke. That only continued Desmond’s orgasm.
“Take it, boy,” Auffernan said, growling through gritted teeth. Just as he was saying boy, his voice broke and the first jet of cum hit Desmond’s ass. He continued longdicking through the shoulder-shaking power of his orgasm.
Desmond shuddered and squeezed as though trying to hold on to Auffernan’s cock with his ass. A huge load of cum sprayed into his guts, and a seeping warmth spread to his guts. Desmond moaned along with Auffernan as jet after jet of white-hot cum coated his insides.
That orgasm seemed to last forever. Desmond’s had begun when Auffernan jacked him off and continued through Auffernan’s climax, and even now, Auffernan’s cock spurting out the last of his cum, Desmond writhed and gasped as ecstasy coursed through his veins. His prostate thrummed and hummed, and Desmond struggled against the handcuffs binding his wrists together.
At last, when his balls were good and drained, Auffernan pulled out and Desmond breathed a sigh of relief. His ass felt cold and empty. He stayed there, bent over and with a Confederate flag in his mouth — Auffernan no longer held on to it, so Desmond could have spat it out anytime. He didn’t want to though. He wondered how many other men had bit this flag while they got rammed. He hoped it was a lot. Maybe that was why Auffernan used it. Maybe he liked the flag soaking up all the ass-pain sweat and drool of the men he ramrodded.
Officer Awful. That was what they called him. Desmond had heard about that, and he came running to this tiny town so he could run into him.
As Desmond recovered from his orgasm, he turned his head to see Auffernan writing him a ticket. He was still naked, his sweaty body swaying, limp dick moist with cum and assjuice. Auffernan put the ticket in Desmond’s hand.
“Here you go, boy. That’ll be two hundred dollars. You can pay at the county courthouse.” Public intoxication was checked, but at the bottom of the list of possible charges, Auffernan had written in, inappropriate squealing, and checked that box as well.
“If I don’t pay, do I get to stay here?” Desmond asked with a grin and a gasp.
“That is exactly correct,” Officer Awful said.