scolding – Page 2 – Mansploitation

The Clerk

Rob is in a big-box retail store when he spies a hunky redneck clerk shirking his job duties. Rob is all too eager to help out, in exchange for a chance to swing on this store clerk’s alpha male meat!

Can he handle the surprise in the Outdoor Supplies aisle?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

The white guy looked like he was trying to sneak a nap among the shelves. He was tall, broad-shouldered, red-necked both literally and figuratively, and he had a lean ropy-muscled body beneath the blue All-Mart apron he wore. He also had on civilian clothes: a long-sleeve camo tee and camo pants, which Rob suspected were not regulation.
It was two o’clock in the morning at a twenty-four hour All-Mart. Rob had come here for beer before remembering that he was in Nebraska, where only liquor stores sold beer. He was disappointed. There was a black guy in the motel room next to him whom Rob thought he could jerk off in exchange for a few beers.
But this All-Mart clerk was also an attractive target. Jacob was the name on the nametag pinned to his chest. He was young, scruff-bearded, with dark hair and eyes. He appeared to be assigned to stock some hunting vests, which he had stacked in boxes on a handcart. But he was doing it so lazily he could only be wasting time deliberately. He leaned against the shelves and closed his eyes, as though going to take a nap standing up right here in the hunting and camping aisle.
“Excuse me,” Rob said. “I’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you let me jerk you off.”
His bleary eyes blinked. “What?” Jacob paused. “Wait, what?” He wrapped one hand over his All-Mart apron. “I…”
“Here, just a tip,” Rob said as he put a twenty-dollar bill in Jacob’s pants. He stuck it in the waist of his pants — making sure to get a feel of Jacob’s kinky pubic hair — then took Jacob’s big meaty hand in his. He got Jacob’s finger out and sucked on it, making Jacob’s eyes pop out and his face blush. Rob deep-throated his finger all the way down until he gagged. Rob grinned. “I’ll make you feel better than your girlfriend ever could. You ever cornhole a man, Jacob?”
“No…” He sounded nervous.
“It is dirty. It is nasty, and you will never blow a more satisfying nut,” Rob said. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars to ram me in the ass. C’mon… Let me go to town all over your cock. You’ll forget about your girlfriend, you won’t remember her name.”
“Felicia…” Jacob looked up and down the aisle to make sure nobody could hear this conversation.
“She sounds like a bitch.”
“Yeah. She kinda is.”
“A thousand dollars. What would you do with a thousand dollars?”
“Shit, buy a dirtbike,” he said without a moment’s hesitation.
“A dirtbike, that sounds fun,” Rob said. He plastered on a jovial smile. “What do you say? You don’t have to touch my dick.”
He looked around. “Let’s go in the back. Hey, if this black guy named Terrell walks in, I’m making you take it cuz you’s a snitch,” he said.
“Okay.”
He led Rob away from the hunting gear into the backroom. There was a small hidden corner there, blocked from view by a row of boxes. It smelled vaguely like weed, and there was ash on the floor, which suggested to Rob why Jacob thought they might be interrupted — this was where the employees came to smoke weed. Jacob closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.
He unzipped the fly of those camo pants and let his hoggish prick flop out. It was musty and musky, and it made Rob’s dick twitch in his pants. Rob put the tip in his mouth, looking up at Jacob to gauge his reaction — Jacob was horrified, eyes open wide, tongue lolling out of his mouth — but he didn’t complain, and in fact his back stiffened up as though he was steeling his nerves.
It stayed limp there at first, like Jacob was too nervous to get hard. Then Rob gurgled merrily on it, savoring the flavor, and that seemed to trigger Jacob to relax. He took a deep breath. His dick trembled and firmed up in Rob’s mouth.
Jacob wrapped his hands around Rob’s head. He acted like he was going to throat down Rob — which Rob would have loved — but instead he just gingerly guided Rob’s head up and down. He licked his lips.
“Damn, boy, you do that pretty good,” he said. He whispered, looking through the rows of shelves every few seconds to be sure no one was coming. It was late enough at night that Rob felt confident no one would interrupt them — there weren’t that many people even working right now to begin with, so what were the chances they would come into this little corner of the storage area?
Jacob, where are you?
The radio flickered into life from where it was clipped to Jacob’s pants. He sighed and bristled like he didn’t want to be interrupted. He bent down and picked up the radio. “This is my jerkoff boss,” he said. He pushed the ‘transmit’ button down. “I’m here.”
Are you done with Outdoor Supplies?
Jacob rolled his eyes. “No. I’m helping a customer right now. I’ll be back to finish it off in a few minutes.”
The boss’ voice sounded clipped, like he was angry but didn’t want to say anything inappropriate because he thought there was a customer nearby. I appreciate your commitment to customer service. However, your current assignment is stocking in Outdoor Supplies.
“Understood,” Jacob said. He made a mock military salute, as if Jerry could see through the radio. “My first commitment is to customer care, Jerry, and I take that very seriously.”
“Thanks so much for your help, Jacob!” Rob called out while the button was pushed, aiming his voice towards the radio. He and Jacob smirked while waiting for the boss to answer.
I’m glad you watched the training video, Jacob. Get back to Outdoor Supplies.
“Yes, sir,” Jacob said into the radio. Then he made a masturbation-gesture with one hand. “Fuckin’ dickhead. I swear to God, on my last day here, I am gonna beat that pencil-necked shitface until there ain’t nothin’ left to beat.” He paused and sneered down at Rob. “I never said that, by the way. I never threatened him.”
“Okay, yeah, no problem, I didn’t hear anything,” Rob said, breathless as he took a deep breath before resuming his deep-throating of Jacob’s magnificent meat.
Jacob groaned. “Every time I see him I wanna rip his goddamn head off. You heard the way he was talkin’ to me. He’s always like that. Talkin’ to me like I’m a shithead and he’s a fuckin’ saint for givin’ me a job. He’s just a fucking night manager at a All-Mart. That is the smallest amount of power that has ever gone to somebody’s head.”
Don’t forget to take care of the parking lot too, Jacob. You forgot last night.
Jacob scoffed. “I ain’t forget,” he said out loud. “I ain’t nevuh done that, Jerry. Never will neither. He don’t even usually notice if I do it or not.” He pushed the button down on the radio again. “Thanks Jerry, I’ll do that. I can’t wait to go the extra mile to help our customers enjoy our parking lot.”
I could do without the sarcasm.
“Me too!” Jacob said. He kept his eyes aimed down at his cock disappearing in Rob’s throat, and he shuddered as a frisson of pleasure ran up his spine.
Jacob…
“Thanks so much for your direction and management, Jerry. Your customer-centric philosophy and stick-to-it-iveness is really an inspiration to me. You’re like a father to me. Can you explain where babies come from?” Jacob chuckled, making his entire muscular body shift and his cock twitch in Rob’s mouth. Jacob was getting excited now, as his erection sent a wave of adrenaline through his body.
Jacob!
“Will you be my mentor? Heal my troubled soul with the power of customer service!”
Jacob, do I need to come over there?
“I’m with a customer right now, Jerry, giving a hundred and ten percent to make his shopping experience a safe and efficient one,” Jacob said. “Also, I’m respecting diversity.”
Rob nodded, mollywopping himself with Jacob’s cock. “That’s so important.”
Holding the radio in his hand for another minute or two, Jacob watched his dick slide in and out of Rob’s mouth. Soon it was clear that Jerry wasn’t going to respond. He had given up. Jacob scoffed and put the radio back on his belt. “They always make it seem like the radio is a good thing. You have to earn having a radio. But they don’t pay you any more for it, and it just means they get to keep radioing you to tell you to do stuff.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. He held onto Jacob’s dick and licked the shaft from tip to root. That made Jacob shudder and moan, and Rob could see the exquisite sensations wracking his body and making his taut muscles ripple.
As precum flooded Rob’s mouth, he gurgled and suckled loudly. He wanted to make Jacob a little uncomfortable, and that’s what the noise did — Jacob kept looking this way and that to be sure no one was coming.
Then a bolt of bliss shot up Jacob’s spine, and his face screwed up. He grunted and looked shocked. He gripped Rob’s ears and held on tight. He began grinding his dick down deep into Rob’s throat. He threw his head back and licked his lips. It looked like he had possibly never received dome that felt this good. His neck was already ruddy to begin with, but as he got more aroused it turned scarlet like a cooked cranberry.
“God-damn boy, I am gonna ride ya face like a buckin’ bronco,” he said with a deep, throaty chuckle. He yee-hawed and whooped, slapping his own thighs and making his meaty muscle tremble. He fed his dick down Rob’s throat, ignoring the resistance he felt. “Relax ya throat, boy. Relax it.” He rubbed Rob’s neck, caressing it gently.
Rob couldn’t breathe. He loved the taste of redneck cock, and he enjoyed watching Jacob plow his throat too. It was so hot he couldn’t resist pulling his own cock out and jacking off.
“Hey, what’s cum taste like?” Jacob asked with a guilty leer, like he wasn’t supposed to ask. He pulled away from Rob’s mouth so he could answer.
Rob took a deep, hoarse, gasping breath. He tried to go back to Jacob’s cock, but Jacob frowned and kept his head away by holding his forehead.
“Huh? What’s cum taste like?”
“Uh… salty, and uh… it’s… hard to describe.” Rob gulped. It was difficult to concentrate right now, with the scent of Jacob’s cock just in front of his nose. He wanted to go back to slurping on it again but Jacob held his head back.
“Is it gross?”
“No. Well, yeah, kinda, but I like it,” Rob said. He blushed.
“Huh. You embarrassed ‘bout it?” he asked. He threw his hands in the air. His cock bobbed, jutting out from his crotch. “You tell ya daddy you jerk off random dudes?”
“You’re not random. I chose you.”
“No offense or nothin’,” he said. He shrugged. “You don’t feel embarrassed swallowin’ cock? Like a girl?”
“I’m not embarrassed,” Rob said with a shrug. Rob’s voice was cut off by that cock sliding back in his throat.
“I just don’t see how this ain’t humiliatin’ for ya,” he said. “You swallowin’ dick. I pee outta there, man. Fuckin’ nasty. It ain’t even, y’know, I ain’t touchin’ ya dick, so it ain’t even like you gettin’ something outta this.”
Rob gurgled. He wanted to explain further, but his mouth was full of dick, and it was hard to explain the allure the male form had for him. Jacob had resumed plowing his face slowly and gently, just hard enough to make Rob sputter a little. Jacob’s sweaty balls slapped against Rob’s chin and rested there.
“Yee-haw!” He lifted his camo shirt over his head, though he didn’t take it off, he just bared his chest. He was thickly built, without a six-pack though his belly was flat. He was moderately hairy and tattooed. “God-damn, boy. You should be ashamed of this. You shouldn’t be makin’ some other man feel good. That ain’t how a real man should act.”
But he didn’t say that like he expected Rob to respond. He put his hand behind his head as though he didn’t like touching Rob, which let Rob use both hands and his mouth on Jacob’s shaft. Rob bore down on his cock until his nose pressed into Jacob’s hairy crotch. He sucked down every drop of precum.
“You can punch me,” Jacob said. He let go of Rob’s head. He got down on his knees across from Rob, so close that Rob could feel his breath condensing on his cheek. Jacob frowned. “Go’n, I got this theory that wusses can be saved. They just ain’t nevuh done nothin’ real manly, you know? You gotta flip that switch to be a real man. Don’t happen to wussies.”
“What?”
“You evuh punch a man?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Really? A real man?”
“Yes…” Rob said. He sighed. “You really want me to punch you?”
“Yeah. I think it’ll help. I promise, if you do it and you don’t like it, you can go back to jerking me off.” Jacob paused and cocked his head to the side. “You better go back to it, I mean, even if you do like throwing a punch. Don’t blue-ball me, and you gonna have to pay me no matter what.” Jacob stood up straight and lifted Rob up at the same time, so they both stood in the tiny corner of the storage area.
“Fine, I’ll punch you if you want. But then you gotta start cornholing me in the ass,” Rob said. “I wanna feel your dick inside me.”
He scrunched up his nose. “Ew… Fine. You got a tight ass?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t wanna cornhole you if ya sloppy, boy,” Jacob said. He put his hands on his hips. “So go ahead. Punch me.”
Rob nodded. He knew an alpha male like Jacob would never start and then stop because his hole was too lose. That was fine to brag about but not something that any man like that would do. Rob wanted to impress Jacob, so he reared his fist back and punched as hard as he could.
His fist collided with Jacob’s face. Blood spurted from his nose. Jacob stumbled back and would have fallen to the ground except that he was already pinned up against one wall. He just gripped the wood behind himself and supported himself that way.
“Hell yeah, boy!” Jacob shouted. He beamed broadly and wiped a few drops of blood off his face.
Rob was glad he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He had rather hoped he could punch hard enough to knock Jacob down, but that was probably never realistic — Jacob outweighed him considerably, and was a lot tougher, that much was obvious.
“How’d that make ya feel, huh?” Jacob asked.
Rob shrugged. “Nothing really. You ready to ram me?”
He sighed. “Fine. Bend over. Bend over forwards, boy, don’t try and lay on ya back or nothin’, I don’t wanna see your face.”
Rob nodded. He got down on all fours — that was his preferred position anyway. It was perfectly submissive, he thought, bending over like a dog. Jacob’s callused hands gripped Rob’s ass and held on tight as he worked his dick in.
As soon as the tip slid in, Rob let out a moan of pleasure and pain. It hurt bad but that lasted only a few seconds. Once Jacob’s redneck cock hit his prostate, a powerful pang of pleasure rang out deep within Rob. He grunted.
“Ah, shit, you wasn’t kiddin’ ‘bout that tight ass. You should give lessons to my girl,” Jacob said. He relentlessly pounded his cock in, ignoring Rob’s resistance.
Rob moaned uncontrollably. Every movement Jacob made sent a new wave of pleasure through his body. Jacob moved a lot too, not just pivoting his hips but shifting his weight between his legs, clapping his hands together above Rob’s body and shaking his entire chest as he writhed.
Somebody whistled. It was a brief melody, just a few notes, but it sounded very deliberate, almost like a signal.
“Fuck, hey, remember what I said? Remember? This is Terrell. I’m gonna tell him you a snitch-“
That seemed like a bad plan. If Rob weren’t overwhelmed with desire and pressure in his asshole, he would have said so. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak, and in any case, he didn’t have enough time to come up with a better idea.
Terrell appeared right then. He was bopping along to a beat only he heard. When he turned the corner and saw Jacob cock-deep in Rob’s ass, he stopped moving for a moment as though he couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing.
“Take that shit, bitch!” Jacob said with a roar. “Ah, there you is, Terrell. This here is a snitch. My brother sent him-“
“What the fuck are you doin’, boi?!”
Jacob laughed. From Rob’s position with Jacob’s cock in his ass, he could sense that Jacob was uncomfortable bluffing like this, but he needed to puff up his image in front of Terrell. Terrell was a tubby duckydoo, with a big round face and long dreadlocks.
“I’m punishin’ this snitch,” Jacob said.
“What?”
Jacob guffawed. He slapped Rob’s cheeks hard, then punched him in the back. Rob howled in pain, which he exaggerated for effect. Jacob smiled. “Remember my brother in prison?”
“Yeah.”
“This snitch here tried to squeal on ‘im. So when he got out, my brother sent ‘im to me, so I can make ‘im squeal instead.” He paused and grabbed Rob by the hair. “You hear that, bitch? Huh? Squeal like a piggie.”
He drove his dick in so deep and so hard that Rob had trouble doing so. He opened his mouth to let out a delicate, gentle oinking sound, as his whole body undulated with the power of his imminent orgasm.
“Nah, louder, bitch! Huh? Lemme hear it!”
“Oink!” Rob squealed as loud as he could.
“Yeah…” Jacob groaned. He hefted his entire body up over Rob’s back and pressed down. He pinned Rob to the ground, keeping a tight hold on his hair. That upped the pressure and the pleasure emanating from deep in Rob’s asshole.
Terrell watched with wide-eyed amazement. He clutched his belly, and his dreadlocks trembled. “Damn, Jacob, I take back what I said ‘bout whiteboys. You know how to lay down the law.” He paused. “I can’t watch this shit. Jerry is lookin’ for you.”
“Tell Jerry to go fuck his mother.”
Terrell chuckled. “No,” he said. “I ain’t tellin’ him that, cuz you prolly gonna make him do it. Damn, rednecks is crazy.” He walked away, shaking his head. “I am nevuh gonna smoke a blunt there again. Gonna smell like whiteboy booty forevuh.”
Jacob scoffed and chuckled. He smiled. He pinned Rob down, moving his hips from side to side as he shifted his cock around inside Rob’s ass. Though Jacob didn’t notice it, Rob shot his load right then, spraying his wad all over the floor. He shuddered and clenched down on Jacob’s cock.
“Thanks, man,” Jacob said. “He was really impressed.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said as his orgasm flowed through his veins.
He groaned right into Rob’s ear. “I’m gonna nut now, man, I’m gonna nut. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” It sounded like his orgasm was almost painful — or maybe just so stressful his voice was clipped and tense. He jabbed his dick all the way and moaned loudly, his hairy chest rumbling against Rob’s smooth back.
A hot wad of cum sprayed into him. There was something warm and sunny about it, a summery feeling to its texture, which seemed to fit with Jacob’s redneck look. His breathing was jagged and rough, moistly condensing on Rob’s ear. His muscles rippled.
“Damn, boy…”
“Oink! Oink! Oink!” Rob squealed like a piglet again without waiting for Jacob to demand it
That load of cum spurted into every corner of Rob’s body, its heat seeping into his flesh as Rob squealed. The sound was loud, and he could hear Terrell laughing from not too far away — he must have gone nearby to smoke that blunt, and could hear Rob’s oinking. It was one of the biggest loads Rob had ever taken, great big jets of it filling him up and dripping down between his thighs.
Jacob stayed there for what felt like forever. His cock slowly limpened inside of Rob, who moaned and squirmed. His fingers tightened into claws that dug at the grimy concrete floor beneath him.
“Ah, shit,” Jacob said with a chuckle and a long, slow sigh. He lifted his head up but kept his dick in Rob’s ass. “Hey, boy, I ain’t sayin’ I care on ‘ccount of I ain’t no sissy. I was just… Do I do that good?”
“Wha’?” Rob was too engrossed in his post-orgasmic bliss and the pain in his ass to think of an answer. He fumbled with his wallet to get out the money and pay Jacob.
“Do I do that good? Is my dick good? Like… if you was a girl, and I fucked you like that — in the pussy, not the ass — would that be good? Would you tell ya girlfriends I was good?”
“Uh… I don’t have a vagina, Jacob. I don’t really know-” Rob found it hard to concentrate with Jacob’s rapidly limpening dick in his ass.
“I know, I know, I just mean… Nevermind. What about the ass? Some girls like getting fucked in the ass, right? Is it the same? Like, if I’m good at plowing a man in the ass, does that mean I’d be good at fucking a girl in the ass?” When Rob didn’t immediately respond, Jacob pulled on his hair. “Huh? Pay attention, man, I’m talkin’ at ya.”
“Yeah. You do that good. You really… If a girl likes getting fucked in the ass, she’ll like you fucking her in the ass,” Rob said.
He nodded and sighed. “Okay. I guess that’s pretty good.” He pulled his dick out. Rob sighed grandly. Jacob looked at his ass-juiced cock like it was too gross to touch. “The only girls I know who like anal are sluts. They like anything.”
“Uh-huh. That’s normal. Some nice women like anal, but they probably only ever tell their boyfriends that. So the only women you find out about are the slutty ones. That’s what makes them sluts, after all,” Rob said. He sat up, dizzy and groggy.
“That makes sense.” Jacob nodded. He submitted to Rob getting some paper towels from a roll in storage and wiping Jacob’s dick clean. Jacob watched with intent interest as though there was going to be a test on it later.
The radio on Jacob’s belt flickered into life again. Jerry’s voice filled the air. Jacob. Where are you? I see a cart full of shit in Outdoor Supplies.
Jacob quickly pulled his pants up and smiled. “Jerry,” he said, “You’re not supposed to curse on the radio. My tender ears are in pain. It’s unprofessional and contrary to the All-Mart Statement of Purpose. That’s not a community-building way to speak, Jerry.”
Jacob… Get out here and do the Outdoor Supplies.
Jacob shrugged, as Rob headed for the exit. “Hey, go out the back, man. Terrell gonna be out there smoking his blunt. Act like you scared of me and you runnin’ away.”
“Okay. See ya,” Rob said as he headed out, but Jacob was already ignoring him. Jacob was on the radio needling his boss, while Rob headed out the back door.
He took a deep breath before fresh air — and the fragrant smell of weed — flooded his lungs. Rob managed to pretend to cry as he ran past Terrell and out into the night. Terrell laughed and catcalled after him. Rob didn’t need to pretend to walk bow-legged because his ass did hurt, but it felt good too, and he was still experiencing the aftereffects of his orgasm as he fled into the Nebraska night.
Rob grinned as he ran, revelling in the satisfaction he gained from that more rewarding experience than he thought possible at a second-rate All-Mart in the middle of the night. Jacob was right, he thought, he really did give excellent customer service.

Humping the Enforcer

Avery has to pay protection money to the mafia, but when the don comes by too, Avery is given a gift that just won’t stop giving! He gets to do what he wants to the crude enforcer Joey, who has muscles and swagger and not a lot of brains.

The don is frustrated by Joey’s idiocy, which gives Avery a chance to explore another episode in the world of Twink on Top!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When Avery Flowers saw Joey at the door of his shop, he felt the usual surge of feelings: fear, annoyance, rage and a dash of arousal, since Joey had an alluring and arousing physique.
But this time, the mafia enforcer Joey Rizzoli was accompanied by a stout older man in a fine suit.
That older man kept a faint grin, and he stopped to look at the flowers on the counter. Joey, as usual, stone-faced, sturdy as a chair. He looked vaguely displeased at everything, even the flowers that filled the store.
Avery sighed. Running a florist shop in Little Italy in New York meant he had to pay protection money to the Mafia. He had been doing it since before the shop even opened. Today was the fourth of the month, making it Joey Rizzoli’s regular day to collect a payment.
The money was in an envelope hidden in the register. Avery made sure to put it there this morning. He liked to tease Joey, who was gruff, mean and macho, riddled with muscle and bravado. He had a temper and a cocky attitude, but he was barred by Mafia rules from hurting anyone who paid proper protection money. That meant Avery could flirt with him, squeeze his biceps, repeatedly ask him out on a date as if Joey was a slutty woman, and Joey just accepted it like an awkward statue made of frowns. He occasionally growled and flexed his pecs beneath the ill-fitting suit he always wore.
But Avery had no idea who the portly older man was at first. That changed when the man took off his hat and spoke — this is the Don! Don Caprinelli! Avery gasped and bit his own lip.
“Good afternoon, Mister Flowers,” the stout man said. “My name is Tranquillo Caprinelli.”
“Yo, you should address him as Don Caprinelli,” Joey cut in, barking at Avery as though he had been disrespectful already.
Don Caprinelli held a hand up to silence Joey, whose crude yet handsome face scrunched up. The Italian flag tattoo on his neck stretched when he tightened his visage. He wrinkled his nose at Avery, and his broad shoulders expanded as he took a deep breath. From their body language, Avery gathered that the Don often told Joey to take a deep breath and calm down and that Joey was annoyed every time he said it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Don Caprinelli,” Avery said. He bowed his head respectfully.
“My daughter’s wedding is this month, Mister Flowers,” he said in a smooth voice like melted caramel, “And in recognition of that joyous day, I am asking that you spend the money you would normally pay for Caprinelli security services. Spend it on yourself or on the charity of your choosing, and have a joyous month.” He smiled.
“Oh! Okay, thank you, Don Caprinelli-“
“Do not mention it, and as always, you and your beautiful shop here remain under my protection for the entire month. And the usual perks at the Hotel Sweet,” he said with a smile. He shook Avery’s hand.
“Oh… thank, you, that’s… the Hotel Sweet?” Avery had no idea what that meant. The Hotel Sweet was a rundown motel down the street. It was known as a hotbed of prostitution.
“He doesn’t… Don, he, uh… has never been interested,” Joey said. He stammered like he had done something wrong, and when Don Caprinelli shot him a quizzical look, he looked down and bit his lip.
Don Caprinelli turned to Avery, looked at him with shock in his eyes, then examined him head to toe. He nodded in realization.
“Yeah, sorry,” Avery said. “I’m not into anything down at the Hotel Sweet… Unless Joey ever hangs out there.” He smirked as Joey, who, predictably, blushed. His glowering face looked down at his feet, then glanced at the flowers as though he was suddenly very interested in petunias.
“He does not spend time at the Hotel Sweet…” Don Caprinelli smiled, then spoke quickly with Joey in Italian. Joey let out a laugh as they talked — the first time he had laughed in all the time Avery knew him. Their conversation sounded like a negotiation to Avery. Joey continued to laugh, nervously, with many cautious glances towards Avery. He kissed the crucifix around his neck. Don Caprinelli’s Italian was fluid and rhythmic, while Joey’s was halting and sounded like mispronounced English.
“Ten minutes,” Joey said softly — another first: the first time he ever sounded less than totally confident. He had been collecting extortion money from Avery for years and never showed any hesitance or uncertainty about what to do.
“What-?”
“I have worked out a deal. I give all the businessmen who pay me a free weekly visit to one of the ladies at the Hotel Sweet. Since Joey failed to offer you anything as a substitute for that perk, he has agreed to give you ten minutes with him. You may do anything you wish to Joey for ten minutes,” Don Caprinelli said.
Joey spoke with that thick New York-Italian stawk that had always turned Avery on so good. “No stickin’ it in.” He looked down at his feet yet again when Don Caprinelli clucked his tongue and shot him a harsh look.
“Uh… what?”
“You can… like… gimme a handjob, or whatever. No penetration,” he said. He sniffed and pushed past Avery into the backroom, Avery’s office. Joey’s heavy body barely fit in the doorway, and Avery felt a surge of body heat and intense desire as Joey’s suited muscles brushed past him. Joey called back to Don Caprinelli, saying something in Italian.
Don Caprinelli chuckled. “He is afraid you will hold him down and cornhole him-“
“That ain’t what I said!”
“I tell him you are three times the boy’s size, Joey, you can overpower him if he tries to cornhole you,” Don Caprinelli said. He smiled and followed into the backroom. “I will not watch, but I will stand at the doorway.”
Avery turned to enter the office, still trying to comprehend what, exactly, was happening, Was Joey really letting him give a handjob? Joey stood there in front of him, scowling, with his arms across his chest. He filled out that suit nicely; it looked even better on him than a nicer suit would have, Avery thought, the undersized shirt and oversized jacket making him look like the world’s meanest high-schooler getting ready for an away game.
“No poop or pee neither,” Joey said. “And no putting cigarettes out on me. And no farting.” He threw his hands in the air. “No puttin’ it in!”
“In where? By whom?”
“Any hole. Anyone, man,” Joey said. “Just gimme a handjob or whatever.”
“Oh, I think I can get more creative than that,” Avery said. He smiled as Don Caprinelli chuckled behind him. He quickly stripped off his clothes.
Joey snickered at Avery’s small body, pale skin and weak muscles. “How old are you, man?”
“I’m twenty-four.”
“You look like you’re about twelve. Gonna feel like I’m lettin’ a little boy grope me up,” he said.
“You’re exaggerating, I don’t even get carded for cigarettes. I just have a youthful, girlish glow,” Avery said. His dick was out, and he tried not to feel self-conscious — not about his cock size, which was ample, just that he was so much smaller than Joey.
Joey didn’t look like he bought into Avery’s defense. He faced away as Avery unbuttoned his shirt. It was cute to see Joey nervous for the first time after he had been extorting money from Avery for years. Avery slowly stripped off Joey’s suit and suit.
He kissed his nipples beneath the tight a-shirt he wore. Joey’s pecs rippled, sending a thrill up Avery’s spine. His hands roamed over Joey’s muscled side, which made Joey twitch out of either anxiety or ticklishness or a bit of both.
Then Avery pulled the t-shirt off Joey’s body — or he lifted it up, anyway, Joey was too tall for Avery to actually take it all the way off. Joey removed it himself. He had a broad chest and a nearly flat belly, with just a hint of meat there. Avery’s mouth moved down to that belly, licking the trail of black hairs there leading down past his belly button.
He undid the belt holding up Joey’s slacks. Joey let out a strange sort of mewling sound as Avery dropped his pants, then pulled down the plain tight white boxers he wore.
His massive cock sprung forth. Avery gasped and smiled at Joey’s cocky grin. He must have liked showing off his big dick.
Don Caprinelli clucked his tongue. “You like his monster, huh? That’s the difference between ‘fairy’ men and girls. Girls run screaming from it-“
“No, they don’t, Don, that happened one time,” Joey said with a hangdog look. “One girl walked away because she said it was too big.”
Avery stroked his shaft, slowly at first, as Joey spoke. Then he sped up, as Joey’s face went from annoyed to surprised at how aroused he was. He looked down at his dick as though he had never seen it get hard before. Its long shaft throbbed beneath Avery’s grasp.
“And Anita?” Don Caprinelli said, snickering from the doorway, where he remained, still facing away from the scene.
“She didn’t see it-“
“She saw you. She said he looks like a caveman. I bring him a girl to bed, as a present for his years of loyal service, and he acts like a goon-“
“Don Caprinelli…” Joey’s voice turned into a moan as his dick pulsated in Avery’s hand.
“Shut up, you embarrassed me. The sissy probably understands girls. Maybe he can help you avoid the same fate if I ever bring you another girl,” Don Caprinelli said.
Avery smiled, stroking Joey faster and faster. Joey’s muscles rippled and he closed his eyes like he was ready to cum. Avery wasn’t ready to let that happen, but he liked seeing Joey prepare for it. He chewed on his lower lip, and his biceps flexed as he flailed his arms, too embarrassed to touch either Avery or himself at the moment.
“I’m no expert in women. They’re mystifying to me too,” Avery said, hands working hard at Joey’s cock. “Virtually any girl could dress like a slut and get all the big hairy macho men to bang them, but almost none of them do that. That doesn’t make any sense to me. If I was a girl, I’d be such a cheap lay. I’d suck your dick every day, Joey, I’d let you and all your buddies demolish me.”
Joey chuckled dryly, like he wanted to laugh harder but was too distracted by his dick leaking precum into Avery’s hand. Don Caprinelli guffawed from the doorway, laughing so hard he bent over and slapped his own thigh.
He let go of Joey’s cock. Joey’s eyes bugged out, and he flexed his hips, humping the air. His muscles twitched again, and he let out an involuntary growl. It seemed he wanted Avery to continue jacking him off, but he didn’t want to admit that because Don Caprinelli would hear him.
Avery walked around Joey, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw his ass. It was thick and plump, but firmer than Avery thought possible. Joey was tall enough that Avery had to reach up to massage those round cheeks, which were as hard as overinflated volleyballs — it was clear that Joey was tense, which was part of the reason his flesh was hard, but it was also clear that Joey’s ass was simply bursting with strength.
“Will you bend over?” Avery asked.
“You can’t put nothin’ in my ass!”
“I won’t,” Avery said. He lightly caressed the strapping muscles of Joey’s back. He felt Joey sigh through his spine, then Joey bent over and grabbed his ankles.
That position forced his asscheeks to separate, revealing his hairy hole. But as much as Avery wanted to stick his fingers and tongue (and everything else) in there, it was clear Joey wouldn’t cotton to that. So Avery just massaged the hairy crack of Joey’s ass, then had him bend his knees until he was crouched.
Avery hadn’t really known where he was taking this until he saw Joey in that position, his great, hairy trunk-like thighs pressed close together. Avery stripped off his own clothes while both Joey and Don Caprinelli were facing away from him.
Then he lined up behind Joey’s crouching body. Joey winced and trembled when he felt Avery’s cock pushing into his back, but Avery made sure to wrap his fingers around Joey’s cock first. Joey sighed and forced his muscles to relax as his dick re-hardened beneath Avery’s grasp.
“Damn, fairy… what is this?” He asked.
Avery didn’t answer. He pushed his dick lower still, through the tangle of coarse black hairs on Joey’s thighs. Joey didn’t even seem to notice as Avery’s dick slipped between his legs and poked out below his crotch.
Since Joey was crouched over but was much taller than Avery, the simplest position was for Avery to kneel behind him. He wrapped his arms around Joey’s broad body, his left hand straining to reach Joey’s nipples while his right stroked Joey off.
“Uh, oh…” Joey realized Avery’s dick was between his thighs. He cleared his throat. “Don Caprinelli… Is it… a sin if you… If uh, his… dick is uh, not in me, but…-“
“Then no, Joey, please spare me the details. Don’t let him put it in a hole. That is what the Church teaches,” Don Caprinelli said. He kept his face angled well away. “Is the little fairy hurting you?”
“No!” Joey said.
“Then it is fine. You can stop him if you wish. I would give you a girl instead, but you would only scare her away,” Don Caprinelli said. “You should develop some culture and sophistication, Joey.”
Joey hung his head and sighed. It was obvious he had heard this lecture many times before. “Yes, Don.”
“I brought him to the symphony, Mister Flowers,” Don Caprinelli said. “He fell asleep. I pay for his tuxedo and for a girl to sit next to him, and he falls asleep. He snores so loud the oboist dropped his instrument in the third movement-“
Avery snorted and held back laughter.
“He tells the girl he prefers hot air balloons-“
“I like Led Zeppelin!”
“I tell you, he is a caveman. I have never been more mortified, Mister Flowers,” Don Caprinelli said. He still faced the other way in the door threshold, so he didn’t see Avery dry-humping Joey’s thighs.
Avery thought it was a funny story, but the funniest aspect was how embarrassed Joey was. He had always looked uncomfortable in the suit he wore to extort Avery, but now it was obvious how humiliated he was by his lack of class. Joey’s face burned a bright red, and his thighs tensed, squeezing Avery’s cock.
The increase in tightness sent a shiver of sexual pleasure up Avery’s spine. He began humping harder and faster, and he reached around to Joey’s long cock with both hands.
“It smells like a brothel in there,” Don Caprinelli said. He wrinkled his nose. “It smells like Hotel Sweet.”
But Avery was too aroused to answer, and Joey was either too tense, too horny or too embarrassed. He grunted, nostrils flaring as his ass puckered, its iron-hard globes pressed against the smooth, slim flesh of Avery’s torso.
Joey slowly leaned forward. It didn’t seem he was really aware he was doing it, at least not until he was on his belly, where Avery couldn’t jack him off anymore because his dick was jammed against the floor.
But that allowed Avery to crawl atop Joey’s back. He was so much shorter than Joey that his face pressed into the center of Joey’s back, which was dappled with sweat and a few stray black hairs. Avery licked him while Joey growled, out of either discomfort or desire or even ticklishness again, it wasn’t clear which.
Meanwhile Avery slammed his dick in and out of Joey’s thigh. It really did feel exactly like cornhole a man in the ass, Avery thought, just without the hole — the thighs felt like an asscrack, so Avery felt like he was ramming his dick between asscheeks.
And that thought gave him an idea. He crawled up Joey’s body until his cock throbbed in between Joey’s cheeks. Then he humped the hot, sweaty groove there, his dick pulsating against the tight rim of Joey’s asshole.
“Nope, nope,” Joey said after just a few seconds. He rolled over, pushing Avery onto the ground beside him. “I ain’t doing that, fairy.”
“Joey-!” Don Caprinelli snapped.
“I’m sorry, Don, he was trying to-“
“You can simply be more polite. This is why girls run in terror from you,” Don Caprinelli said.
“He ain’t a girl-“
“Politeness is mandatory, Joey.”
Joey sighed and shook his head. “Mister Flowers, I… You best not… I mean… I would prefer you did not… touch my, uh… You know… Back there… My… I don’t know the polite word for it, Don.”
“Anus,” Avery said with a giggle. The word made Joey chuckle too, like a little boy laughing at a fart joke.
Avery wasn’t surprised that Joey had backed out of the ass-humping. But now he was laying on his back on the floor, his rock-hard dick sticking straight up. Avery mounted his thighs and pressed his dick right next to Joey’s.
Joey’s body remained stiff and hard, almost as rock-solid as his dick, which pulsated hotly in Avery’s fingers as he jacked them both off together. His other hand tweaked Joey’s nipples, and caressed his broad shoulders. Joey’s chest was once again hard, the tension making it impossible for him to relax his muscles.
When the first few drops of precum lubricated Avery’s hand, he realized Joey wasn’t going to let this continue for long. Joey heaved and gasped for breath as though he was terrified of how aroused he was. It was his dick producing the precum, but Avery thought he shouldn’t point that out or risk angering Joey.
Avery instead lowered his body until he could once again stick his dick between Joey’s thighs. This time he was on Joey’s front side, so his face nestled in Joey’s chest, between his mountainous pecs. Joey’s dick dug into Avery’s flesh above his crotch.
Then Avery’s rod plunged between those thighs, reawakening Avery’s arousal and making his shaft spasm. He gasped and even lightly nibbled on Joey’s skin, which made him twitch and bark.
“Hey! Don Caprinelli, he’s trying to eat me!” Joey said like a boy tattling on his friend.
Don Caprinelli snorted. Avery didn’t see Don Caprinelli glance over with a sick look on his face, because Avery was slamming his dick up and down between Joey’s thighs. Joey’s dick throbbed and leaked precum onto Avery’s belly and chest.
“It is fine. It is dry-humping,” Don Caprinelli said. “Or it is humping, at least. I do not think he is a cannibal.”
Then a potent orgasm began, deep within Avery, who only dimly heard Joey sigh and mutter to himself. Avery gasped and threw his head back. Joey looked down at him from his reclining position, eyes wide like he had no idea where this was ending up. He watched in horror as bliss wracked Avery’s body, and Avery buried his face in Joey’s mafia-tatted chest.
Meanwhile Avery’s whole body spasmed and roiled atop Joey’s powerful frame. He rammed his dick back and forth as he licked and sucked hickeys onto Joey’s pecs. His dick spewed cum down onto the floor, making a big mess on the backside of Joey’s thighs and ass.
“Oh god, he’s doin’ it…”
Avery felt the most intense pleasure of his life rolling through him. He writhed and moaned into Joey’s body, his spine arching as the orgasm overwhelmed his body. By the time he was done, his skin was dripping with sweat, both his own and Joey’s.
He lifted his head. Joey was still rock-hard, with a vaguely nauseated look on his face, and Avery gripped his dick with both hands. He rubbed it against his smooth chest, intending to get Joey off that way, but then Joey got his attention.
Joey pulled lightly on his hair until Avery looked up at him, still gasping from his own post-orgasmic pleasure. He made a shushing face, then grasped an imaginary penis in front of his face. He pretended to jack it off, using his tongue to push against his cheeks.
“Damn, you one nasty fairy…”
Avery was still recovering from the aftershocks of his orgasm, so he was confused at first. After a moment, he realized what Joey was asking for — they both glanced up at Don Caprinelli, who faced the other way with his arms across his chest. He gave no indication he realized that Joey’s actions and his words were no longer quite linked.
That was interesting, Avery thought, he had assumed that Joey didn’t want to do anything and Don Caprinelli had talked him into it. Now it seemed that Joey’s reluctance was, at least in part, a show for Don Caprinelli’s benefit — maybe Joey had only been unpleasant about it because Don Caprinelli would punish him for being enthusiastic.
Without a peep, Avery lowered his head until he could swallow Joey’s dick. He tasted that salty cocktip, precum flowing like water from a tap as Joey’s aroused body spasmed. But it only lasted a moment: Joey must have been on the verge of orgasm already. From the moment Avery’s lips encircled his dick, cum throbbed in his thick shaft, and his balls crawled up in his sac.
By the time Avery managed to get his mouth all the way down the first two-thirds of Joey’s dick, his tongue slathering spit along the piss-slit, Joey had gripped his head. He sneered at Avery like he was punishing him for the puddle of cum Joey now sat in, and he slammed Avery’s head down on his dick.
“Hurry up and finish, fairy-“
“Be nice, Joey. Let him take his time,” Don Caprinelli snapped at him. “You have forgotten all the manners I have been teaching you.”
Joey threw his head back, but he had to suppress making any sound beyond a vague, quiet grunt. Avery could imagine how girls were scared of him if this was how he made love, Avery thought, but he didn’t say so because his mouth was full.
A hot load of cum sprayed into Avery’s mouth. It was creamy and sweet, thick like yogurt, and it coated Avery’s tongue and throat. It slipped down into his gullet as Joey made harsh, violent love to Avery’s face. Avery gagged involuntarily; as soon as he did, he realized he had attracted Don Caprinelli’s attention.
“Joey!” Don Caprinelli snapped. He had turned around, and he saw what was happening.
Joey winced and pulled away. He hurried to his feet as Don Caprinelli glowered at him. Cum still dripped from his cocktip as he tucked his dick away and blushed.
“Sorry, Don. The fairy seduced me-“
“Do not blame it on the fairy. He did what is only natural to him,” Don Caprinelli gripped Joey by the hair and pulled his head down to the level where they could look each other in the eye. It was arousing to watch for Avery, who cleaned cum off his face as it unfolded — once again, Joey was forced to submit to someone much smaller than him. Don Caprinelli shook his head with disgust. “I do not wish to have such depravity in my organization.”
“I’m sorry, Don.”
“Yes, you are,” Don Caprinelli said. He let go of Joey’s hair. “Now put your clothes on. We will go home now.” He turned to Avery and nodded politely. “Thank you for making loyal payments these last few years. You have been such an aid to my organization.”
“Uh, yeah… Thank you, Don Caprinelli,” Avery said. “For keeping my business safe.”
He nodded again. He pushed Joey towards the bathroom. “Clean yourself off, beast. I think you can please Mister Flowers every month from now on, Joey. Perhaps you will learn your manners that way.”

The Janitor

Desmond is bored at an art museum when he spies a surly janitor with an alluring physique… setting Desmond off on another round of alpha male rough trade!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Desmond was in an art museum, devoted to antiquities, because there was a doe-eyed docent he was interested in. The museum was deserted though. There was probably more foot traffic in the tombs and burial sites the objets d’art here were looted from. There were a few Roman and Greek statues brought from Europe, but otherwise it was mostly Native American pieces from throughout the American Southwest and Mexico. Necklaces, arrows and bows, strips of leather used for something or another, plus an array of glittering gold Aztec sculptures.
Some of it was rather interesting. Desmond stood for a long time reading about the ancient Mesoamerican ball game in which the losing team was executed. The painting that depicted the game was lifelike, and really made Desmond feel like he was back there. What would it have been like to live in a culture that valued human life so lowly? Or was it even a low value? Maybe it was more of a matter of them valuing the ball game so highly instead. What other aspects of their culture did this attitude affect without leaving an archaeological trace? Did women race to weave clothing with the slowest among them executed? Did people commit suicide when they lost other games?
One of the Aztec men illustrated playing the ball game was so handsome it made Desmond think about the sturdy yet slender docent he had come here in search of. Desmond wasn’t really into Aztec men, just this one illustration.
“Oh, indeed, this is a beautiful piece,” said a woman, who peered closely at a crudely carved woman. Her voice startled Desmond, nearly making him knock over the figurine she was looking at. “Isn’t it? Look at the form. The form. Indeed, the mastery thereof.” She glanced at her companions, a group of other females and one male whose sexual interest in her was apparent.
“Yeah. The mastery. It’s… uh… gorgeous.”
“Oh, yeah, that is a beautiful piece. It really speak to the essence of soul itself.”
“Good point,” said the classy, elegant woman, whom Desmond already hated. She gestured grandly to another objet: a human-like shape etched onto a rock. “Oh isn’t this lovely! The Aztecs were such an impressionistic people!”
Desmond couldn’t take any more of that kind of pretentious nonsense, so he hurried away. It was probably just a child playing with a sharpened rock, he thought, that etching didn’t look like a completed piece of artwork. It wasn’t impressionistic, it was bad, he thought. He sighed. People were so annoying. Now he remembered why he didn’t like museums.
Only now the docent with a degree from Cornell, Rakwan, with the dimples and the lion tattoo on his neck, seemed to be gone. Desmond shrugged. Oh well, he thought, maybe I could get some rough trade while I’m here.
That made him chuckle. A museum was not a place for rough trade. The males here were betas, dorks and nerds. Desmond did not see the appeal. Looking for rough trade here would be like asking a McDonald’s cashier for the gourmet menu.
That white boy art enthusiast was cute, especially in how he flirted with that woman, but still, he was white and not handsome, and anyway, he was with a girl so he would not likely be willing to dip on the downlow with Desmond. None of the other males here were even remotely eligible. A lot of them were elderly, and the rest were skinny or fat nerds.
This trip seemed to have been a total bust, he thought. He turned around to head for the front door, nearly knocking over an elderly white man who hobbled away in a hurry.
Normally Desmond was polite, unfailingly so. But this particular old white man seemed unfazed by Desmond bumping into him for that first fraction of a second — then he swore, but only when he saw the color of Desmond’s skin.
“You piece-of-shit street trash,” said the old man, his voice creaky and tremulous. “Watch where you’re going, boy.”
The racial implications of the encounter were obvious to Desmond. But the old man’s voice was low, so no one heard him but Desmond. He scoffed. “Why don’t you watch yourself, you old coot,” Desmond said. “Don’t you tell me what to do! I can lay you out, old man!”
A few people heard Desmond raise his voice. He realized only too late that this wouldn’t work out for him — the old man seemed sympathetic, hadn’t said anything explicitly racist (and no one but Desmond heard him say anything at all) and Desmond had, in fact, bumped into him. The onlookers all glared at Desmond as though he had just stomped a puppy.
“Hey! You! Nigguh, you over there flouncin’ ‘bout like some princess in a tutu! You can’t talk like that!”
It was a middle-aged janitor. He had dark-brown skin and deep-set eyes, with a hefty, well-muscled body that still had plenty of meat to it — he was no sculpted gym rat. Desmond’s jaw dropped because he was so aroused.
The man’s name was Elmer, according to his nametag.
“It wasn’t like it seemed,” Desmond said, “That old man was racist-“
“Uh-huh, save it for the security guards,” Elmer said. He shoved Desmond towards a service hallway. The old man smirked and the crowd gasped all together. Desmond rolled his eyes but didn’t fight back. Elmer snarled and growled. “You can’t be disruptive here, boi. We ain’t got no time for yo’ princess nonsense.”
Desmond went with him, his mind already reeling at the possibilities. He wanted Elmer. He needed him. Elmer was close enough that Desmond could smell the cleaning solutions that clung to his clothes. The most overwhelming odor was bleach, which looked to have been splashed on Elmer’s workpants, covered in faded spots especially near the ankles. He had a gloriously thick body like he used to be a bodybuilder, and he still brimmed with power. A few twinges of gray in his hair were enough to make Desmond’s dick so hard he struggled to walk until he rearranged himself in his pants.
“I don’t have to go with you,” Desmond said. He wanted to take control of this situation, and he knew his rights.
“Then you can get outta my museum,” Elmer said. “I ain’t lettin’ you talk to no old white man like that, nigguh. That ain’t proper. Some flouncin’ little sissy like you… This is a nice museum, for nice folk.”
Desmond had to giggle. He clutched Elmer’s well-muscled arm as though being escorted to a cotillion.
“Let go.”
“Ain’t you gotta escort me to my fate?” Desmond asked with exaggerated melodrama, like he was about to faint and needed to lean on Elmer for support.
“You can walk yaself,” Elmer said.
“But I won’t,” Desmond said. They passed a door labeled ‘Supply Closet’, so Desmond stopped walking right there. He opened the door. “What’s in here?”
“Just some cleanin’ shit, boi,” Elmer said. “C’mon, security office is down there.”
“What I’m going to do,” Desmond said. He placed one finger on Elmer’s chest. “is go in there. You’re going to follow me. I’m going to get on my knees. I’m going to pull your pants down, and I’m going to jerk you off. Then you’re going to ram me in the ass. You can blow the world’s biggest load in me, or on me, or in whatever manner suits your fancy. We’ll be real quick, and real quiet, and no one will ever know you did it.”
“If you think I’m some kinda pervert, you are one crazy-!”
“You didn’t let me finish. The last step would be when I put one hundred and nine dollars in your pocket,” Desmond said. He was a little disappointed because he had hoped Elmer would do it for free. But he didn’t mind paying. “That’s what I’m going to do. You don’t need to give any feedback on that plan. Just go along with it. Or don’t. If you don’t follow me into the closet, I will be so disappointed. But I’ll move on. Maybe I’ll find some white dick. I wonder what Vanilla Ice is up to these days…”
Elmer furrowed his brow. He opened his mouth but he didn’t say anything. Desmond took that for a yes. He went into the supply closet. There was just barely enough room in there for him to mess with a thick man like Elmer. That was fine with Desmond, who liked the idea of being in a cramped space with him.
Dropping to his knees, Desmond opened his mouth. He could tell Elmer wanted to do this, but yet he still stood there in the doorway. He looked back and forth down the hallway. Desmond just kneeled with his mouth open. He could see the bulge in Elmer’s workpants.
“This ain’t allowed, don’t you think I’m some kinda pervert,” Elmer said. “I don’t got a habit of gettin’ jerked off by sissies in closets. Nosir, I don’t do that.”
He took one step towards the closet as though going to come in, then changed his mind and slammed the door shut with Desmond in and Elmer outside. Desmond was there in the dark by himself, mouth wide open.
Desmond was disappointed, he had really thought this was going to work; older black men like Elmer were usually game, when he could get them alone. Was this a no?
Then Desmond heard the footsteps of someone walking down the hall. Elmer was trying to look inconspicuous.
“G’evenin’, Mr. Moskowitz,” Elmer said outside the closet. His voice was deep and raspy, with the more sonorous tones blocked by the shut door. All Desmond heard was the throaty, gravelly part of his voice. “I’s moppin’ that west hallway like you said, suh, real good, uh-huh.”
Mr. Moskowitz responded, but Desmond didn’t hear what he said; it sounded polite and encouraging, but patronizing. Desmond suspected that Mr. Moskowitz didn’t remember who Elmer was.
The door opened a few seconds later and Elmer strode in. “Fuckin’ asshole, I oughta lay that mothafucka out,” he muttered as Mr. Moskowitz’s footsteps could be heard walking away.
The smell of cleaning solutions was even more intense here, joined by the musky mud-scent of the mop-bucket and the soapy deodorant Elmer wore. Desmond recognized the hair pomade that Elmer used too, because Desmond’s grandfather had worn it. That made Desmond giggle. Where did Elmer even get pomade like that?
The closet had a single bare lightbulb in it, that cast everything in shadows but still provided enough illumination to see. Desmond reached up to tweak Elmer’s nipples through his clothes, but Elmer snarled and slapped his hand away.
“No messin’ around, just get to it,” Elmer said. “I ain’t here to seduce you, nosir.” He paused. “And you definitely ain’t here to seduce me, don’t even think ‘bout that. Nosir. I am strictly a top, boy, fo’ real, don’t even think ‘bout talkin’ me out of it.”
“I won’t-“
“I will lay you out, and don’t think I won’t,” Elmer said. Despite his threats, he came across as a crotchety old man more than a violent thug. He made Desmond smile more the more serious he acted, which only made Elmer more angry. “Quit ya laughin’, boi, this ain’t a Richard Pryor show. Ain’t no one makin’ ya laugh here.”
Elmer dropped his bleach-splattered pants as he ranted. He wore briefs — not many of Desmond’s conquests wore tighty-whities anymore. Desmond moaned in desire because he could see that massive mature cock already twitching beneath the threadbare white fabric.
His tongue planted on it without removing Elmer’s underwear. Elmer grunted like he didn’t approve, but he didn’t stop Desmond. Desmond licked his dick through his underwear until it was so soaked it was virtually translucent.
“You getting serious, huh? Lickin’ me through my drawers, that’s nasty. That’s real nasty, boi. You must be all kinda ashamed, yessir,” Elmer said.
Elmer’s dick was wet already, hard and leaking precum even before he had dropped his briefs. Finally Desmond pulled them down, his cock popped out and Desmond swallowed it to the root. Elmer closed his eyes and grunted to conceal a moan that he worried would sound loving — he didn’t want to give this man any kind of wrong impression.
“Finally. I swear, you sissies is always playin’ ‘round and shit, not takin’ nothin’ serious.” He murmured like he didn’t really expect Desmond to listen. “Talkin’ mean to some old white man, you ingrate-“
Desmond pulled off his dick, which was just beginning to get hard. “Look, I swear, that man was blatantly racist. He only got mad when he saw that I was black, and I know-“
“He call you a nigger?”
“No-“
“Then shut ya face. You ain’t encounter real racism, nigguh,” Elmer said. He frowned, which looked like a natural face for him — Desmond strongly suspected Elmer was always bitterly frowning. Elmer slapped him with his cock a few times. “Quit playin’ wit’ it!”
He rammed it into Desmond’s mouth. But Desmond wanted to frustrate him and make him play with his cock. Elmer wanted to just lean back and let Desmond service him. But Desmond kept teasing him until he took the initiative to spread Desmond’s cheeks and drill into his throat.
He growled. Young people, Elmer thought, never took anything seriously, not even dicks. He had to grip Desmond’s face with one hand and his scalp with the other. He held on to Desmond’s hair tightly, giving himself adequate leverage to pound away at Desmond’s throat.
His balls slapped against Desmond’s chin, and Desmond opened his throat as much as he could to allow it. He clasped Elmer’s thick cheeks as he got throated down.
“Ah, shit…” Girls rarely deep-throated Elmer, and they never let him throat them like this — not anymore, and rarely even when he was young and handsome. Elmer could tell that Desmond not only loved it, he enjoyed the occasional gag and choke, the sputtering, the spit that built up in his mouth and dripped onto the concrete floor of the closet with every thrust of Elmer’s hips. His flat belly smacked Desmond’s nose, pubic hair scratching at his lips.
When Desmond felt Elmer’s balls about to crawl up in his sac, he pulled his face away. He had to swat Elmer’s hands from his cheeks too, or he would have kept plowing into his throat and cum without noticing. Elmer chased his mouth with his dick until he realized that Desmond had stopped.
But Desmond pushed him off and giggled when Elmer roared in frustration. “Whatchoo doin’, nigguh? Keep goin’! C’mon, where you goin’?” He kept humping even though Desmond’s mouth was nowhere’s near his cock, like his crotch was on auto-pilot, now just humping the air.
“I said I wanted to get rammed in the ass too,” Desmond said. “You better get started before you blow your wad.” He gripped the door to the supply closet for support. He jutted his ass high in the air.
“Man, nigguh, I was all up in ya mouth-“
“I’m paying for this, and I said I wanted anal,” Desmond said. He turned around and shook his ass in Elmer’s direction. He backed up and rubbed his asscrack over Elmer’s cock.
“Oh? You want it in the butt, huh?” Elmer said with a frustrated snarl. He grabbed Desmond by the back of the neck and held on as he slammed his cock right in. He spread Desmond’s asscheeks. Elmer bit his lip and sank in deeply, all in one smooth motion.
The pain was extraordinary at first. Elmer made no effort to be easy on Desmond. He penetrated him with so much force Desmond’s head banged against the door. A girl, Elmer thought, would have never let him do all that, but Desmond cringed and moaned like he liked it.
The pain was potent, but brief, and Desmond cried out with pleasure. “Damn…” Desmond gritted his teeth, and Elmer gripped his asscheeks.
“Open up that ass, nigguh.” Elmer smacked his back until Desmond did as he was told. Desmond managed to relax his ass, and the rest of Elmer’s thick shaft jammed into his asshole. His flat belly smacked against Desmond’s cheeks. Elmer used his weight to force his dick in deeper and deeper, until at last every inch throbbed within Desmond’s asshole.
“Ah, ow, shit!” Desmond bit his lip. He cried out again, fists pounding on the door. If anyone was out in the service corridor now, they’d definitely hear what was happening, and Desmond didn’t think he had the wherewithal to reduce it.
“No noise, boi,” Elmer said, though he was just as loud as Desmond. He used one callused hand to hold both of Desmond’s delicate wrists in place. That meant Desmond was unable to support himself at all. He leaned forward, with Elmer ramming him from behind, supported entirely by Elmer’s powerful arms and his thick dick in Desmond’s ass.
So he rammed Desmond harder and rougher than he would have ever fucked a woman. He rammed until his balls slapped loudly against Desmond’s ass. He kept thinking sooner or later, Desmond would tell him to stop or slow down, but that never happened.
When Desmond didn’t complain, Elmer even grabbed Desmond’s hair and held on that way. He sighed and moaned. No woman let him do that anymore. They disliked it when he pulled their hair and even choked them a little.
“Come on, boi…” Elmer’s voice was still harsh and guttural, but now with a smoothly seductive tone to it that made Desmond shudder. Desmond felt like his own cock was going to explode. He lost himself in Elmer’s thick chest.
He put Desmond in a chokehold, not real tight, just enough to make him squeal and clench around Elmer’s dick. Elmer loved having total control over Desmond’s tight feminine frame. In the darkness of the supply closet, Elmer thought, the only thing separating Desmond’s ass from a woman’s was that Desmond didn’t complain when Elmer slammed into him with all his might.
That’s because Desmond loved it. Desmond tightened his fingers into claws that dug at Elmer’s forearm, which were firm like iron beneath the flesh padding of his age. Elmer didn’t notice, he was too busy experiencing an orgasm more intense than anything he’d felt in twenty years.
“Shit, boi, you take it good… You feel me inside ya, huh? Say it-“
“I feel you inside me…” Desmond’s voice was weak and tinny, almost plaintive.
Elmer’s voice was deep and scratchy, resonant in the cramped closet. “Say my name, boi.”
“Elmer… Ram me, Elmer! Ram me hard!” Desmond said as loud as he could.
For just a moment, Elmer didn’t feel his sore knees or the ever-present exhaustion or his worry about his blood sugar. All that mattered was getting every inch of dickmeat in the squirming man’s tight hole and making him beg for more.
They both went to the ground, landing with a loud crash that shattered a box of lightbulbs on the floor. Elmer felt himself kissing Desmond on the lips even as he told himself he wouldn’t do that. Cum flew in ribbons into Desmond’s ass. Desmond cried out in shock as Elmer’s tongue entered his mouth.
A the last few jets of cum filled Desmond’s ass, Elmer grunted into his ear. “No kissin’, boi, I oughtta smack you for that.” He squeezed on Desmond’s neck a little more to remind him who was boss. He didn’t even stop kissing as he told Desmond to quit it.
Desmond gasped. He was dizzy and delirious. He leaned his head back, kissing Elmer on the scruff of his neck. Elmer grumbled but allowed it, still lightly humping his limpening dick in and out of Desmond’s ass. Their tongues slathered spit along each other’s cheeks and lips. “No more kissin’, boi, quit that. I ain’t ya boyfriend, I’m ya daddy.”
“Ram me, daddy!” Desmond shouted. He loved the daddy look, and he liked how acting like a slutty female seemed to make Elmer treat him like one. Elmer ground his dick within Desmond’s ass, making sweet love to his prostate as he kissed every inch of Desmond’s face.
It was only polite to give a reacharound, Elmer thought, his mind working too fast for him to censor his own thoughts. That was another thing he had “forgotten” — or preferred to pretend hadn’t happened — from his youth. It felt so natural now he didn’t even think about it.
As the last vestiges of his climax roiled his veins, Elmer reached around Desmond’s body to his cock. He grimaced a little at the feel of it throbbing beneath his grasp but he stroked anyway.
Now he remembered why he liked it. “C’mon, nigguh, cum, blow ya nut.” His coarse voice was aimed directly into Desmond’s ear. Elmer had gotten in the habit of stroking his bottoms off after he came because it made them stay on his dick until it was totally soft, and when they orgasmed, they clenched down tight on it all over again.
Cum sprayed into Desmond’s ass, more than Desmond thought possible. He moaned as it filled him up, but it kept going until Desmond couldn’t moan anymore. Even then, Elmer’s body — perfectly still, muscles taut — kept shooting, wad after wad of creamy cum seeping into Desmond’s flesh.
So much semen filled him up that it dripped out and down his thighs, and Desmond thought he could taste it. It had coated his insides like he had become one with Elmer’s cock, which still shot the last few drops of cum from his low-hanging balls.
“Hmmm…” Desmond’s feminine, lilting voice filled the tiny closet. Since Elmer’s handjob was rather awkward and difficult to accept, continuing as it did throughout Elmer’s orgasm, Desmond didn’t cum as quickly as he might have. That wasn’t a bad thing from his perspective. It gave him even more opportunities to grind his ass back on Elmer’s now soft dick, making a moist dripping sound like a clogged drain as more cum splashed out and over Elmer’s low-hanging balls.
“You seduced me, boi, that ain’t right. I don’t give men handjobs,” Elmer said, his throaty voice making Desmond’s spine shudder. “That ain’t a thing I do. I oughta kick ya ass for that.”
Elmer wanted to keep talking, maybe even hit Desmond a few times — not real hard, just enough to be sure Desmond wouldn’t try to be his boyfriend. But when Desmond orgasmed, his asshole clenched just as Elmer had expected. It was like a second orgasm for Elmer; it reawakened all of those sensations that had just passed. His dick twitched and Desmond spasmed.
A massive load sprayed over the floor and Elmer’s hand — he hadn’t stopped the reacharound even as he demanded Desmond do so. Elmer kept stroking, ignoring the cum that coated his fingers.
Elmer grunted. Then, at last, he couldn’t take any more. He let go. Desmond nearly toppled to the ground, and Elmer’s cock plopped meatily out of his hole.
“Goddamn…” Desmond said with a moan.
“No blasphemin’,” Elmer said out of pure instinct — he didn’t allow young black men to blaspheme in front of him. That made Desmond giggle a little as he rubbed his face over Elmer’s powerful chest. Elmer used a paper towel to wipe his dick clean, ignoring Desmond’s groping hands.
“Hmm… Thanks for that,” Desmond said. He pulled his wallet out of his pants and handed over the money to him. It was all of the cash he had in his wallet.
Elmer nodded. “Don’t you think I’m some kinda street whore. I ain’t poor. I ain’t some fuckin’ hobo or some shit,” he said. He frowned as he let Desmond play with his heavy meat. When he had enough, he swiped it away. “You gotta pay more if you wanna keep playin’.”
Desmond clucked his tongue. “I think I’m done,” he said. “Thanks for that. I had a good time. This is a great museum,” He managed to kiss Elmer’s bicep once more before Elmer shoved him away.
“Get outta here, sissy. You got some dick, you done for the day. Ain’t no old white man in here for you to cuss at.”
Desmond sighed. “I ain’t cuss out some old — I-” He stopped himself. Why argue about this? It didn’t matter. “Nevermind, Elmer.” Desmond opened the door and winced at the bright light in the hall. He headed out into the deserted corridor.
“Go’n, boi, don’t come back neither. If you wanna taste my dick again, hang out in the alley behind the Canal Street Bar,” Elmer said. “I usually piss drunk in the alley before I go home. Maybe I let you take another taste.”

The Macho

Sasha is refurbishing a house in California, and that means hiring a painter. When he winds up with the burly Perico instead of the young hunk he preferred, he didn’t know he was in for a wild ride of alpha male machismo, activo and pasivo action and dominant masculinity!

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Sasha Lavendeur paid for the painting of the “rec room”, and he went with a low-budget local company, Paint-It Quick, because he was in Santa Monica and California deserved no better than a low-budget company such as that. If Sasha were back in Texas, where he did hail from, he would have chosen a classier outfit.
He needed the guest bedroom painted too, in this hideous home he was renovating in California, but he didn’t want to do that just yet. The house was almost ready to move into. Not that he was going to move in. This home was a flip.
Sasha did not see why anyone would move in, but he was confident the house would sell for a tidy profit.
His knees went weak when he went into the rec room. He had expected Cergio — the eighteen-year old handsome Puerto Rican boy he had hired to do the painting. Instead it was a thirty-something broad-shouldered craggy-faced man with a mustache like a push broom and and an uncomfortably thick ass. He was as handsome as a box of rope and has a similar shape, texture, outlook, attitude and odor.
“Oh. Hi… Where is…?”
“Cergio, he ees gone, señor,” he said with a cluck of the tongue that suggested he was unhappy about that. “I am his father. Perico.” His accent was much thicker than his son’s. He had the broadly lilting accent of a Puerto Rican, which was unusual, even exotic, out here in California.
“Uh… Oh. Okay,” Sasha said, not really listening. He lost himself in Perico’s deep brown eyes and his powerful hands gripping Sasha’s. They shook. Sasha blushed, he couldn’t think about anything but Cergio, who had been positively lovely.
But Perico had a certain brutish charm to him, Sasha thought. Oh, that hair, so wild, untamed, like the mighty mustang of the Texan prairie, and lo, the flecks of paint so tantalizing across his sturdiness… Sasha wanted to run his fingers through that tangled mane. He wanted to wash and comb it then watch Perico get it all greasy and tangled again.
“You want odduh room, señor?” Perico asked. “I will paint, eh?” He counted and put away the money Sasha had done proffer for the rec room. He tucked it into the pocket built into his painter’s overalls.
Sasha blushed and smiled at him, then blushed even more intensely because Perico patted his arm. It was coachly, not at all seductive. It was professional and warm and it made Sasha swoon because he could smell Perico’s clothes and feel his body heat radiating off him.
Perico’s overalls were speckled with multi-colored paint, most freshly the pale seafoam green that he had painted the rec room. “I can paint the other room, señor, two hours. fiddy bucks, señor, I do a good job. Do very good, very quick, more quick than so is my son. He is a lazy and he is gone again and I will hit him in the face for you.” He made a fist to demonstrate.
“That’s not necessary, muh dear Perico-“
But Perico’s face narrowed to slits, and his nostrils flared. “It is needed for yes, I will. He should not have left me, señor, to do this all myself.”
“Hmm… indeed,” Sasha said.
Perico grunted. “So you will hire me for now for the other room, si?”
“Oh, uh, not today, sorry,” Sasha said. “I’m not sure what color we’re going to want that. We might not want the seafoam.”
Perico nodded but didn’t acknowledge it. He led Sasha into the other room, which was currently a dingy, slightly-yellowed white, like the color of an abandoned asylum. The paint was peeling, and Perico pointed it out to Sasha as though he hadn’t noticed it. Sasha always noticed imperfections in decor.
“See? I am to paint, si?” Perico said. “Fiddy dollars for right now, yes?” He paused. “Forty dollars, and I will do it now.” Then, like he had forgotten, he added, “Señor.”
“Yes, it needs to be painted,” Sasha said. “I’m just not sure what color we want it, so I can’t hire you right now.”
Perico shrugged. “I have the paint here, señor. I do it now?”
Sasha shook his head. Perico was big and didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. He put one of those meaty paws on Sasha’s shoulder and squeezed firmly.
“You want dick? I will ram you and paint the room.” His voice trailed off, and he added another one of those distinctly Puerto Rican tongue-clucks that passed for communication. “Sixty dollars, señor.”
Sasha hesitated, but he already savvied the answer. He batted his eyes as winsome as the most tender of French prostitutes. Sasha pretended to be coy, and Perico roughly grabbed Sasha’s asscheeks like disobedient dough.
He grimaced and grunted into Sasha’s face. Sasha’s heart skipped a beat, he wasn’t expecting this, but he loved it, and his whole body fluttered. “Oh… Ah, Perico-“
“¡Silencio!” Perico said. He waited to make sure Sasha would obey him. Then he very roughly, painfully kneaded the flesh of Sasha’s ass with one hand. He spread his cheeks and ran his fingers through the asscrack. Then he nodded like Sasha had passed his inspection.
Sasha clutched Perico’s chest. “Ooh, papi, can I-“
“No, silencio,” Perico said. He squeezed Sasha’s cheeks, checking his mouth. Sasha couldn’t tell if he was more interested in size, or moistness, or maybe he was looking for sores. But again, he nodded like Sasha was sufficient.
Perico stood there, motionless, muscles rigid. He nodded. “Manos a la obra.”
Sasha smiled. He caressed Perico’s bicep, which Perico flexed for him. He was a hard worker and he was naturally thick, but he was no bodybuilder. Something was alluring about his real, everyday muscles, moreso than any of the bodybuilders Sasha had worshiped.
He reached into Perico’s overalls to test the size of his cock — he wanted to “inspect” Perico since Perico had inspected him. Sasha was glad to feel that it was thick and long and uncut. Sasha nodded.
“Good,” Perico said. He sighed and leaned against the wall. He undid the overalls and let his cock fly — he had obviously done this before, Sasha thought.
That was true. Perico let guys jerk him off all the time. Fellow Puerto Ricans could do it for free, as long as no one saw (or at least no females). But he made gringos pay. He didn’t used to, but after letting this one farmer jerk him off for years, Perico discovered he was paying other hombres for their cocks. He had been insulted that he was never offered money.
This gringo — Sasha — was rich though, Perico was certain of that, and he wasn’t gonna walk away without at least getting some extra work out of it.
Almost as soon as his dick touched Sasha’s tongue, Perico snarled and swiped it away. “You have beer, gringo? I like to drink when I let a male jerk me off.” Perico was scrupulously polite to his clients, but when he let a man jerk him off, he didn’t do it nicely — that was demanded by his machismo.
Sasha nodded. “I’ve got beer, papi, whatever you want.” He got up, the tender taste of the tip of Perico’s dick still dancing on his tongue. He loved its funky, spicy taste, and he adored the unwashed musk of Perico’s crotch that wafted out when he undid his fly.
He had a case of beer in the fridge, bottles of a fine microbrew. He wasn’t sure if Perico would like it, but that was all he had. “I hope you’re okay with an IPA!”
When he went back, Perico still stood there, leaning against the wall, his big brown cock hanging limply out of his overalls. He hadn’t lowered them at all. They were unzipped just enough to let his cock hang free.
Sasha played with his limp dick. Perico swayed back and forth to make it slap between his legs. He always did that when he had his cock out because he liked to remind his friends who had the biggest one around. It was normal for him and his friends to drink beer in the backyard behind his house, and when he had to piss, Perico just stood up and whipped it out. It was macho to be unconcerned with letting males see it, since Perico could hold his own if a male tried anything, and, of course, he wanted them all to see how big it was. His friends’ machismo required them to do the same thing, of course.
“You gonna jerk it, esé?” Perico laughed. He was cocky, moreso than normal — being naked around men always did that to him. He always felt threatened and overcompensated at first, but once he started getting his dick jerked, it was like slipping into an old sock that fit right. Getting jerked off by a man was better than a woman, Perico often thought but never said out loud. He thwacked his cock against his palm, trying to make a loud sound, a meaty thwacking that caused a sly smile to appear on Sasha’s face.
He drank from the beer. It felt good to drink beer while you got a nut off, he thought. He’d been drinking all day, but he didn’t tell this gringo that.
“Don’t tease me, esé, get it wet,” Perico said. Sasha was on his knees now, and Perico felt a surge of victory like he had conquered Sasha — it felt good to have a rich man jerking his dick. Perico hooted and lightly slapped Sasha, first with his palm, then with his dick. He watched Sasha’s eyes light up as he begged for more. Perico slapped him harder. He rubbed his limp, sweaty cock over Sasha’s face. When Sasha tried to chase it, Perico pulled it away, teasing him.
“Please?! Lemme taste it…” Sasha begged as femininely as he could manage. He blushed as Perico hit him in the forehead, eyes, nose, even his ears — Perico’s girlfriends never let him do that.
Finally, Perico leaned against the wall again and closed his eyes. He lifted his sweat-stained tee shirt over his head so it wouldn’t get in the way, but he didn’t take it off, he just put it behind his neck.
“Go on, make it wet,” he said with an annoyed grunt as though he hadn’t been the one teasing Sasha.
His dick twitched even before Sasha slipped lips over it. Then as soon as it popped into his mouth and hit his moist tongue, Perico moaned and grunted. His dick firmed up in Sasha’s mouth in seconds.
Perico would never admit this, but he preferred getting jerked off by males. Females were smaller, so had smaller mouths and throats, which was annoying enough, but even worse, they saw a blowjob as a preamble to real sex. They just wanted to suck long enough that they could say they’d done it and move on to pussy-sex. As far as Perico was concerned, it made more sense to just move right to pussy-sex and skip the blowjob — as a rule, he did not eat pussy himself, so that was not an option, he saw that as a blow to his machismo.
He had only ever licked one girl’s pussy. That memory filled his mind now, with both arousal and shame. She had been a beautiful blonde college girl, slumming it with the painter her father had hired. She pushed his head down to her pussy as though she expected him to lick there, and he was so excited that he had done it. That was his first and only time performing oral sex on a woman. He had enjoyed it but also felt humiliated, because she rode his face and used him like a dildo. Maybe that would have been okay if she would be his girlfriend, but she never talked to him again. She had just spent that day rubbing his face in it like a disobedient dog, humping that mustache until it gleamed with moisture.
“Chúpalo todo el camino,” Perico murmured, drilling his dick into Sasha’s throat.
His dick was rock-hard now. Salty precum flowed down his shaft, and it coated Sasha’s tongue. It tasted spicy and warm and it made Sasha want to guzzle down more. As usually happened in these situations, Sasha was so impassioned in the moment that he wanted to spend his life doing exactly this.
He looked up to make eye contact with Perico as he nuzzled his nose deep in Perico’s pubic hair, but Perico had his arms over his chest and his face aimed away, as though he wasn’t experiencing a mind-numbing wave of pleasure that wracked his work-weary body.
Perico was uncut, so when he was hard, his shaft seemed to have lots of extra skin. Sasha loved that. He played with it, stroking Perico’s shaft with one hand. He kept looking up, trying to make eye contact, no longer deep-throating. He teased Perico by daintily licking the vein that ran all the way up and down his dick, but Perico just grunted and shifted his weight the best he could with those overalls still around his ankles.
“C’mon, esé, swallow it, don’t play wit’chit,” Perico murmured. He repeated that a few times, “don’t play wit’chit, don’t play wit’chit, you just playin’ wit’chit it now, esé.” He kept humping, pumping his hips even when Sasha just had a hand on his shaft, so he was humping Sasha’s hand instead of ramming down his throat.
But Sasha liked teasing, and he loved making machos desperately horny, so turned on they couldn’t even control where their cock went. He slurped Perico’s cock and slathered spit up and down the shaft with his tongue. He let the cocktip leak precum into his mouth as he stroked that meaty shaft.
“Shit, c’mon, señor…” He jabbed his dick into Sasha’s face, but still Perico didn’t look directly at him.
That’s because Perico was an activo, and Sasha was a pasivo, or at least in a pasivo’s role. That meant Perico would be on top. His goal as an activo was to stick his dick in Sasha’s moist mouth or tight asshole, he didn’t care. If he did that — which he often did — then he was more of a man: he was an activo. If Sasha were Latino, he’d be called a pasivo. Perico pounded on his chest. He had been raised to believe in the distinction between activo and pasivo. It was very important to his father, and his uncle, and all the older males back in Puerto Rico.
The first time Perico had done it, he had been barely eighteen. He was skinny then, and he had just gotten his first tattoo. His father and uncle had brought him a puto as a belated birthday present — he was just a man in a dress and a wig that kept falling off.
But Perico’s father referred to the man was her.
“Put your dick in her, it will make you a man,” his father had said. The prostitute waited in an alley on his knees. Perico had gone back there, heart pounding. He thought he might just do it enough to get his dick wet, to say he had done it.
The man started swallowing with such force Perico yelped, like he was about to slurp his cock off. “Oh, papa, he is… Oh… I do not think I can do it-“
“Of course you can, you are a real hombre! I know it” His father yelled out from around the corner. “Just do it, your dick will know what to do.”
By then it was too late anyway. That man had swallowed him down better than any female ever did. Perico stood there like a wuss as the man swallowed his cock and sucked out every drop of his nut, all in a matter of a minute or two.
“You took no time, boy! You must take control of it-“
“Wreck his throat, you should make him gag and sputter-“
“Yes, men should struggle to swallow dick, it should not be easy, you made it too easy on him-“
Perico had not taken the criticism well back then. He got defensive and punched his father, leading to a fight that Perico was sure to lose because he was young, small and still had his pants around his ankles.
But he had taken the lesson well, in the long run. He needed to take control of men when they jerked him off. He needed to ram their throat like a pussy.
“Jerk on my huevos, gringo.” His eyes narrowed to slits. The longer he spent with his dick hard and getting jerked off, the more he imitated his father’s brutally aggressive treatment of his pasivos. Sucking on balls, his father had said, was humiliating, something only a true macho could make anyone do. So Perico had to suppress his grin at the sight of Sasha hurrying to obey and suck the sweat off his balls.
Sasha pulled Perico’s heavy ballsac out of his painter’s overalls, which were around his ankles now. There must have been a few drops of undried paint somewhere on those workpants, because the astringent scent of paint hit Sasha’s nostrils. It didn’t slow him down, he still swallowed both of Perico’s balls.
Perico groaned. He puffed up his chest and held Sasha in place as he lifted his balls up and plopped them in his mouth over and over. “They are sour, si, esé, you are good pasivo, suck on them…” He couldn’t believe Sasha actually got deep under his balls, licking all of the funky sweat off his sac, and he even got between Perico’s legs to the dense and kinky black hairs of his taint.
This was good, Perico thought, he kind of wished his friends were in the other room, because they would have spied and laughed and teased him for it, but that was a teasing Perico could accept. They’d say he had over-full huevos, that his cock was so macho he couldn’t resist getting it wet and it must have tasted so good it made the puto jerk his nasty hairy balls.
“Will you ram me in the ass?” Sasha asked, licking his lips to get all that uncut Puerto Rican cock flavor.
He already knew the answer — it was obvious that Perico was preening his machismo: he flexed his muscles even though his eyes were closed and no one else was around. Perico hesitated and bit his lip. He could do anal with a pasivo, he had done it before.
The first time he had done anal with a male was in prison, back in Puerto Rico. A punk there who begged Perico for it for months. Perico only gave in a few days before his release, when a guard said the man had been tested for disease — that was the thin thread of justification Perico needed.
He had thought he would never do it. His father and uncle had said it was fine — again, as long as he was no pasivo, it was fine — Perico had always been reluctant simply because it wasn’t necessary. He could prove his machismo simply by plowing his cock down a man’s throat. No need to do anal.
But that man in prison had been youthful and female-like, slutty, feminine, flirtatious, coy, always showing his big brown ass and begging Perico to ram him in it. Finally Perico had given in, and he was surprised at how good it felt.
It didn’t just feel good because he was in prison and it had been months since he’d felt a tight hole around his cock; it wasn’t just because it made Perico feel like uno hombre macho. It just plain felt good to ramrod a man who didn’t care how hard you plowed or if you accidentally banged his head into the wall or the side of the prison cell toilet, or if you belched during sex or if your balls were sweaty and smelled bad. He had rammed his bottom every which way, for hours, cumming five or six times before he was spent.
That was the memory that flooded Perico’s mind when Sasha turned around and bared his ass. “Please, papi, I need your cock inside me… Ruin my ass, please?! I want it so bad…”
Perico couldn’t resist that, it was rather like what the man had said in prison in Puerto Rico. He couldn’t stop thinking about that. All of a sudden, all of his reluctance was gone.
He let out a growl. He’d later on brag that he had said no and Sasha wouldn’t stop begging so pitifully that Perico had agreed even though he already had a girl who’d asked him to come fuck her that evening.
“Bend over, puto,” Perico said. He groaned, his dick aching, huevos begging for release. “I will ram your ass hard now. You can beg me to go easy, but… do not beg me to go easy. Spread those cheeks. You will love it, yes? You will say you love it?”
“Yes! Si! Yes! Fuck me!” Sasha cried out. He bent over the stool Perico used to reach the upper part of the walls. It was splattered with paint, some of it still wet, which left a seafoam stain on Sasha’s clothes.
He bared his big white ass and showed off his tight hole. Perico let out another growl of desire, this one less forced. He felt that familiar surge of uncontrollable desire just like when that man had seduced him in prison. Perico slipped his dick in, gasping and biting his lip at how easy it went in, just the tip at first.
“Yes, you will say you love it-?”
“I love it!”
“Say my name.”
“Perico!”
Perico grinned. He loved it when women called out his name. He liked the idea of anyone walking by hearing and knowing what he had done.
Sasha called it out again. “Perico!” Sasha’s voice broke. “¡Amo la polla de Perico!” Every time Sasha called out his name, he felt Perico’s dick twitch again in his ass as they both came closer to orgasm.
He gripped Sasha’s hair and held on tight, drilling his dick all the way in. Part of that machismo Perico felt was that he had to make it good for Sasha — Perico felt obligated to ram him hard but to also bring him to orgasm; making sweet love would not be as manly, nor would rutting in his ass like a dog.
Perico had to really grind his dick in, hitting Sasha’s prostate and making him let out a long, low moan. That was how Perico knew he was doing this right. All he had to do was touch the right spot with his cock and Sasha cried out with an intense prostate orgasm. Girls, on the other hand, required a whole series of action and romance, lots of kissing, so much time-wasting, Perico thought, and if anything went wrong or just unusual at any point, she’d back out. Not Sasha. Sasha would take anything.
So Perico pounded into him, with all his might, with more power with each thrust of his hips as he grew to realize that Sasha wouldn’t make him slow down no matter what. He grunted and moaned as though he didn’t care that Sasha was turned on too. He rammed his dick in and out.
Then he wrapped one muscular, paint-splattered arm around Sasha’s neck. He didn’t actually choke him, he just wanted Sasha to know he could. He wanted to feel a clenching burst of fear in him. His biceps flexed, squeezing Sasha’s neck as Perico slammed his dick in once more.
Perico grunted into Sasha’s ear. He moved his hips in little circles on Sasha’s ass, ramming at every corner of his insides.
Hot breath condensed on Sasha’s cheek. Perico’s breath smelled of the fried chicken he had eaten for lunch (which Sasha had bought him, thinking it was for Cergio), and his hairy chest undulated against Sasha’s smooth back. The chokehold was just tight enough that Sasha needed to concentrate to breath, but he didn’t mind that, both because the tension made his orgasm more intense and because it meant he was ensconced in Perico’s work-toned arms.
“Oh god, yes, fill me, Perico!” Sasha forgot all his Spanish, so he yelled in English. A potent prostate orgasm exploded within him, as Perico’s cock twitched and spasmed in his ass. Pleasure shuddered up his spine.
That sight was enough to take Perico to the next level too — he loved seeing a man cum with his cock in his ass, because to Perico, that seemed magical. His manhood had brought so much pain to this weaker man that he had orgasmed from it — that was how Perico saw his pasivos — and that made Perico roar with pride. Just the sight of Sasha twitching, ass clenching as he sprayed cum onto the floor was enough to send Perico into his climax.
Sasha sprayed his wad all over the floor and that stool he had been bent over, just as Perico let out his own crooning howl. The sound of Perico’s orgasm echoed and resonated in Sasha’s ear, making him squirm and beg incomprehensibly.
I need to go to Puerto Rico for certain, Sasha thought as the most powerful orgasm he’d had in years hit him like the donkey-like cock rampaging through his ass.
Cum filled Sasha’s body, great gobs of it seeping into him, trickling into his flesh. It was warm and creamy and copious, and it dripped through his body, some of it slipping out and coating his ass.
“Shit, esé…” Perico said with a hoarse snicker. He kissed Sasha on the cheek, just once, chastely — he’d never done that, but his orgasm had been so intense he felt he needed to show it. He acted on pure instinct and even very nearly kissed Sasha on the lips.
Then he kissed Sasha on the neck, and his hands roamed over his tiny twink body. Perico had no idea he was doing it or why, he just felt compelled to slather Sasha in kisses. Sasha was just as surprised as Perico, and he didn’t react.
It only lasted a moment. “Esé…” Perico said, moaning into Sasha’s ear, as his hand touched Sasha’s cock.
As if a switch had been flicked, Perico let go. That was turning too romantic. He dropped Sasha, who flopped onto the ground where he had just shot his load. Perico stood up.
He pulled his overalls up and tried to look nonchalant, as though he kissed his bottoms all the time. He blushed, ignoring Sasha’s shocked stare.
“You best pay up, esé, or I’ll kick your ass,” Perico said. He paused. “I will do painting too, as I did promise I say would do.” He shook his limp dick between his fingers and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, trying to switch back to his polite-worker mode. “Si, señor? I will do a good job.”
“I’ll pay.” Sasha patted him on the belly. “I’ll pay, don’t worry. Thanks, Perico. You’re a great worker.”
Perico paused and bit his lip. He tucked his cock away in his overalls again, and he put that tattered, dingy tee shirt back on. He looked serious. “Señor, maybe you will hire me more again in the future?”
“Si, Perico,” Sasha said with a satisfied smile. “That is very likely.”

The Pimp

Avery is in a new apartment, and his neighbor is a pimp. Slim Jay don’t play around, so when his ho proves recalcitrant, he seeks out Avery for a no-holds-barred exploration of dominance, submission and one nasty rimjob!

Can Avery satisfy his new neighbor?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here

Avery’s back ached. He hated moving, and it seemed like he did it all the time these days. He had moved four times in the past five years. He was never fully moved into his previous apartment. Now this time, he felt confident, would be his last for awhile. It was a nice place, plenty big for him and in a nice neighborhood.
It was only on his last trip up the stairs with a trash bag full of towels and a few odds and ends that Avery saw a black pimp sauntering into the building in front of him. He was a tall, powerfully built man with a broad-shouldered frame, wearing a brilliant chartreuse suit, tapping with a jeweled cane as he walked. He had a handsome face marred by a recent scar slashing across his cheek and left eye.
“What’s crackin’, homeslice?” the pimp said, holding the door open for Avery. “You the new whomdiddy, huh?”
Avery nodded. “Yeah, guess. My name’s Avery.” He shook hands with the jive-heavy pimp, who was dipping and dapping up and down even when he stood still. Once they shook paws though, he turned around and did his dippy-dappy pimp walk towards the stairwell.
“Nice to meet ya, nice to greet ya!” he called out, his booming voice echoing in the lobby. Avery followed him up the stairs. “My name’s Slim Jay.”
“Oh, okay-“
“Now I got a deal for ya, honky,” he said. “I give every motherfucker in this buildin’ the same deal — I know you prolly don’t like living with a pimp, but don’t you worry, I don’t bring my work home with me. My hos be in hotels, nigga. Nice ones too. I’s a classy nigga, see? So we cool, right?”
He held out a fist, which Avery bumped awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I guess-“
“So what kinda girl you like? That’s my deal. You get a one-time freebie. You like Asian girls, I bet. You look like the kinda white man who’s into Asian girls.”
“No…” Avery hesitated.
“Go on, you can tell me,” Slim Jay said. He smiled. “I got anything you want, man. ‘Cept for children, I don’t mess wit’ that. I got fat chicks. I got this nasty old lady too, you like old bitches?”
“No, no…” Avery said.
“You into freaky shit? I got two chicks who’ll lick ya asshole, honky.”
“Uh, no. No thanks,” Avery said.
“Okay, then, you prolly wanna swing on my meat, huh? You-“
“Hell yeah!” Avery blushed. He didn’t mean to sound so desperate. But he did love servicing thugs like Slim Jay, and he couldn’t resist his own enthusiasm. He had often had good luck in seducing thugs too, it was a sort of superpower that Avery had developed over the years.
Slim Jay stopped and glared at him. “Motherfucker, do not interrupt me. I ain’t gonna slap you since you ain’t my bitch, and I don’t normally hit civilians. But do not interrupt me again, or I may have to reconsider that. Got it, motherfucker?”
“Uh, yeah, okay. Sorry, Slim Jay,” Avery said.
“I was gonna say that you can prolly get me drunk and take my dick out sooner or later, but I’m mostly sober now, and I can get a female over here anytime,” he said. He stopped in front of his apartment door, slapped hands with Avery and then paused. “I let you kiss it. You wanna kiss it? Just a kiss.”
“Uh, okay,” Avery said. He followed Slim Jay into the sumptuously decorated apartment, decked out with gold lace. It looked exactly like Avery would have guessed a pimp’s home looked, with ornate jeweled goblets and bottles of cognac scattered about, multicolored clothes draped over the furniture and floor. It smelled like cologne and sweat. Not female sweat either. Slim Jay didn’t bring his bitches back to his apartment. It smelled like male sweat.
Slim Jay took a massive cock out the fly of his slacks. He smiled at Avery’s shocked expression. “Big as shit, huh? You like it? You prolly wanna jack me off.”
“Yeah, I do.” Avery hefted Slim Jay’s cock in one hand, and he kissed the tip as wetly and moistly as he could manage, making spit run down the shaft. He hoped to get Slim Jay so aroused he agreed to let Avery jerk him off, but after just a quick half-stroke of his hand, Slim Jay pulled away.
He smacked his cock over Avery’s face as hard as he could, and it was so thick and meaty it almost hurt a little, not that Avery was complaining.
“You freaky as shit, huh?” Slim Jay said as though a little surprised, like he had thought Avery might prove himself to be after all. “You can beg me fo’ it. I think about it. Maybe you change my mind.”
“Oh, please, Slim Jay, let me jerk you off. Let this little whiteboy swallow it. I’ll deep-throat it the best I can-“
“I know that, motherfucker, I’d throat you. I will slam that shit down, honky,” he said. Then he tucked his cock away. “Nah, I ain’t into that shit. Go on, git,” Slim Jay said. He snorted and wrinkled his nose. “Nice try though.”
Avery stood with a weary shrug. He had thought this was going to work. He was pretty good at getting alpha thugs like Slim Jay to let him swing on their meat, and he had suspected that Slim Jay planned on saying yes all along, just needing to protect his self-image by pretending he had to be convinced. Avery made sure to shake his ass though, as he walked out, and he felt sure that Slim Jay watched.
There was still time.
But it wasn’t all bad — he really did want to get moved into his new place; he hated being in limbo, between homes. He hurried to his apartment just down the hall, trash bag of towels and some clothes, mainly socks, in tow, and set to work emptying his bags and boxes. By the time he went out to pick up dinner and came back, he had nearly forgotten about Slim Jay.
The movers were coming with the mattress and a few other big things tomorrow, so Avery set up the air mattress for tonight. He hooked up his monitor to his laptop, fired up an episode of Fawlty Towers and devoured his meal of fried rice and steamed dumplings. He was so tired he didn’t feel hungry until he ate, but his muscles remained exhausted from a day of carrying virtually everything he owned up the stairs to this new place. Once he tucked in, he ate ravenously. Then the food made him sleepy, so he crawled to his air mattress and slipped into slumber.
There was a knock on the door. It was almost ten o’clock at night, so Avery jumped and his heart thumped into wakefulness. He tiptoed to the door so he could still pretend not to be home. He looked through the peephole and saw Slim Jay standing there.
He opened the door. Slim Jay burst in past him, smelling of cognac. He eyed Avery suspiciously.
“Told you, honky,” he said. “My bitches pissed me off tonight. They ain’t barely make any cheddah, and then when I tells ‘em to lick my asshole, they complain like whiny bitches. You lick asshole, right?”
“Uh… Yeah.” Avery yawned.
“Good. Get on yo’ back on the ground,” he said. He slammed the door behind himself.
Avery was shocked — this was all happening so suddenly — but he wasn’t about to say no. He laid on his back on the floor.
“Open yo’ mouth, and stick yo’ tongue out,” Slim Jay said. He spat as though upset Avery hadn’t read his mind and already done so.
Avery licked his lips and got into position. He loved eating ass, and he suspected Slim Jay had a perfect one. Much to his surprise though, Slim Jay just looked down at him. He put his jeweled cane on Avery’s chest, as though he was going to use him for support, but didn’t actually put any weight on the cane.
“You want it, bitch?”
“Yes! Please god, let me lick your ass! And your cock! And-“
“Shut the hell up, stop listing body parts,” Slim Jay said. He swayed like he was drunk, and his breath reeked of sweet cognac. “Don’t move.”
Avery stayed right there with his mouth open, tongue sticking as far out as he could manage. Slim Jay looked at him for what felt like a long time, then walked away. He took a tour of the apartment. He opened the refrigerator and groaned at the sight of its emptiness.
“You ain’t bought food yet?”
“No, sorry,” Avery called out from his spot on the floor.
“Get beer,” he said. “Malt liquor. I want you to keep a forty here all the time. If I’mma let you take my dick, you gotta have malt liquor for me. Got it? Also cognac. Get a bottle of cognac.”
“Yes, Slim Jay,” Avery said.
He took a deep breath. “I go get another cognac from my joint. You owe me though. Go buy a bottle tomorrow to replace it,” he said. “You got a dildo here?”
“Uh… yeah…” Avery said. “Over there.” He pointed to a box in the corner of the living room.
Slim Jay nodded. “Go get it. Put it in yo’ ass, boy. Start loosenin’ yo’self up,” he said. “I be right back.”
Then he walked out the door, leaving it wide open so anyone who walked by would see Avery hurry to the box and get out the dildo. It was a tiny one, a nondescript purple cylinder. He got back in position on the floor, opened his mouth and slipped the dildo in his ass. It hurt for just a moment, then his ass loosened.
Slim Jay walked back in with a bottle of cognac and one of those jeweled goblets from his apartment. He filled his cup, then put the bottle down. He got on his knees, lifted up Avery’s legs and peered at the dildo in his ass. He pushed it in all the way, and he smiled when Avery spasmed in both pain and pleasure.
“You saw my dick, right? I got big nigga meat, you saw that,” Slim Jay said. “This dildo ain’t big enough to get you ready fo’ me.”
“That’s the only one I got,” he said.
Slim Jay shrugged. “Whatevuh, it’s yo’ problem. Gonna hurt like hell when I ram you. I don’t do it nice, just so’s you know. It’s gonna hurt real bad.”
“Okay, Slim Jay. I like it hard.”
“I bet you do,” he said with a sneer. He pulled his sweatpants down to his knees and let that slab of meat flop out. He kneeled over Avery’s face, pointing his crotch down at Avery’s open mouth.
He pushed his dick in Avery’s throat. When Avery gagged, he flexed his hips to push his cock in even harder. Avery choked, but Slim Jay grunted as he tried to force it farther. Avery’s throat loosened, and his nose nestled in Slim Jay’s kinky black pubic hairs.
Slim Jay smiled. “Ah, fuck, boy, you swallow dick good, damn! Why can’t females get they throat open like you. I gotta work on stretchin’ them out, but you all ready to go.”
Avery gagged uncontrollably. He was laying on his back on the carpeted floor, while Slim Jay humped his throat. Slim Jay wrapped his arms around Avery’s body, seemingly unaware that the position put Slim Jay’s face right between Avery’s legs. Avery’s rock-hard cock pressed through his thin pants into Slim Jay’s body, but Slim Jay didn’t seem to care.
“Keep yo’ throat open, boy. Make some mo’ spit. Make some mo’ spit,” he repeated himself a few more times, then slammed his dick down all the way. Avery choked, but he stayed in position. “You ain’t listenin’, boi, do I got yo’ attention now? Slap my ass cheek one time if you understand me?” Avery’s lungs cried out for air, and his hard cock demanded attention. Slim Jay was so close to it. Avery forced his flailing hand to smack Slim Jay’s asscheeks once. “Good. I tol’ you to make mo’ spit. You wasn’t listenin’ so I had to get yo’ attention by chokin’ you. Always listen to me when you got my dick in yo’ mouth.”
Then he pulled out, and patiently waited while Avery gasped hoarsely. Avery heaved for breath, but Slim Jay held his head in position just below Slim Jay’s dick. His balls still rested on Avery’s nose.
“Now make some spit, boi,” Slim Jay said. Avery loudly retched up saliva, and kept going until Slim Jay nodded his approval. Avery opened his mouth to show it off. Slim Jay plunged his fat dick right in. “That’s how you do nice sloppy dome. That’s usually what I want, whiteboy.”
Once he got a rhythm going, Slim Jay was relentless. He picked his hips all the way up so his cock was right above Avery’s face, thick tendrils of spit connecting it to Avery’s mouth. Then he plunged back in all the way. Every thrust of his hips was equally powerful, and he demanded Avery deep-throat it every single time.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t forget about that rimjob,” Slim Jay said. “Beg me for it.”
Avery waited for Slim Jay to pull out of his mouth, but he didn’t. Slim Jay planted his hips all the way down on Avery’s face, so his pendulous balls rested on Avery’s nose. He repeated his command. “Beg me for it.”
So Avery said I wanna lick your ass the best he could with his mouth full. Of course all that came out was a muffled gagging sound, which made Slim Jay laugh. He pulled out and used both hands to keep Avery’s head on the ground, not allowing him to buck and retch. As a result, the torrent of spit and precum in Avery’s mouth just spilled out his cheeks. Slim Jay frowned.
Then he stood over Avery, pulled down his thick pants and revealed a big, wide ass. He squatted over Avery’s face so that his asscheeks separated. Avery could see and smell that beautiful musky hole just inches from his face.
Slim Jay hesitated before dropping his hips the rest of the way. But at last he did so, and Avery’s open mouth enveloped his hot ass. It turned out that he had hesitated because he pulled out his cell phone and made a call.
“Yo, bitch,” he said into the phone. A female’s tired voice came out of the speaker. Avery couldn’t hear the words, but it was apparent he had woken up a ho. He said, “Don’t pretend you sleepin’, bitch. I know you probably fuckin’ wit’ some nigga, you goddamn slut. Don’t gimme that shit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Avery plunged his tongue deep into Slim Jay’s ass, tickling his prostate as he felt Slim Jay’s whole body shake. “I got this female lickin’ my asshole, bitch. She loves it. Gonna make her my new bottom bitch, I think.” The woman on the other end responded with either fear or anger or both, Avery couldn’t quite hear the details, but it was obvious she was upset. Slim Jay chuckled quietly enough that she couldn’t hear. “You wanna listen? She makin’ noise.”
Avery blushed. Slim Jay put the phone up next to his ass, and Avery licked as loudly as he could. He suckled on Slim Jay’s rectum as though trying to get the last bit of milkshake out of a straw. He wiggled his tongue, blowing a raspberry that made a grim fluttering sound. Slim Jay’s body shuddered with pleasure.
“So whatchoo think bitch?” Slim Jay said, bringing the phone back to his ear. “I don’t wanna hear no ‘pology. You know where T-Boy lives, right?” He laughed as the woman made a disgusted sound. “Shut the fuck up! You wanna stay my bottom bitch, you go to T-Boy’s right now. Yeah, he still fat. He even fatter I think. Go’n and wake him up. Give him a rimjob. I don’t give a shit, he probably will fart on your face, bitch. You deserve it. You tell him to call me once you done. I ask him if you give a good rimjob. If he don’t give it at least a nine outta ten, I ain’t gonna keep you on as my bottom bitch. I’ll cut you loose, slut.”
Slim Jay held the phone away from his ear. He laughed at the woman’s frenzied begging. He lifted himself off Avery’s face, put a finger to his lips and then lowered himself over Avery’s ass.
“Go on, bitch. Go to T-Boy. The longer you wait, the nastier his ass is gonna be. He don’t take showers at night,” Slim Jay said. Then he hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. “You into fat dudes, whiteboy?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good, that shit’s gross,” he said. “That bitch. She gonna try to kiss me tomorrow too, I know it. Gonna slap the teeth outta that bitch.”
Without a word of warning — and without having ever asked if it was okay, not that Avery would complain — Slim Jay pushed his dick right into Avery’s ass. Avery was still laying on his back on the floor, so Slim Jay had to drop his crotch awkwardly on him. At first he kept his chest away as though he didn’t want to come into any more contact with Avery’s body than he had to, but after the first inch or two disappeared into Avery’s ass, he grimaced and lowered himself.
His whole body pinned Avery down. Slim Jay wrapped his arms around Avery’s face. “You like it rough, whiteboy.”
“Yes, Slim Jay.”
“That wasn’t a question,” he said. Then he slammed his cock all the way in. Avery screamed out in pain. For a moment, he though he wouldn’t be able to take this. The agony was too intense.
But he almost always thought that when bottoming, especially with someone who had a big dick on top. As always, however, after a few pumps of the top’s cock, Avery’s ass loosened. His prostate came alive, and Avery grunted loudly. He tried to stroke his own dick, but Slim Jay slapped his hand away.
“Nah,” he said. “When I’m rammin’ you, you should be focusin’ on nothing but that. This ain’t ’bout you. No jacking off.”
Treating him like a ragdoll, Slim Jay rammed harder than Avery thought possible. Slim Jay pushed Avery into the ground as though trying to shove him into the apartment down below. He ground his cock in Avery’s ass, and when Avery shook with pain, Slim Jay kept plowing in that direction to make sure it hurt.
“Anal should hurt the bitch who’s takin’ it,” Slim Jay said over and over. “If’n it don’t hurt, you either doin’ it wrong or you is inside’ a real loose slut.”
“Yes, Slim Jay. It hurts,” Avery said. “Can I please jack off?”
Slim Jay gripped his neck from behind, squeezing just enough that Avery had to focus to breathe. Slim Jay didn’t actually answer, but it was clear what his answer was: no.
Slim Jay had never taken his shirt off, so Avery felt the man’s strapping muscles writhe through the fabric. Avery’s own back was bare, squirming as pain and pleasure wracked his body. Slim Jay pressed his chest down harder as he neared his own orgasm. He nibbled on Avery’s earlobe.
“Normally, I’d make you take my load in yo’ mouth,” Slim Jay said breathlessly. For the first time since this began, he actually sounded like he was ramming — he had that tight, pinched tone to his voice. “Real gangstas always get ass-to-mouth. But yo’ ass is just perfect, whiteboy. So I’m gonna cum inside you.”
“Yes, Slim Jay.”
“When you feel me cumming, you shout out my name, okay?”
“Uh, what?”
Slim Jay smacked his cheek lightly. His face was just inches from Avery’s, and Avery had the feeling that Slim Jay would even kiss him if Avery’s face weren’t covered in assjuice. Slim Jay sneered.
“You havin’ trouble payin’ attention, boy,” Slim Jay said. “I don’t like that. You pay attention to my words. When you feel me cumming inside yo’ little bitch-ass, you shout out my name. You don’t stop shouting until I’m done cumming. Got it?”
“Uh, yeah. Yes, Slim Jay,” Avery said. He didn’t yet know how thin these walls were, but he guessed he was about to find out.
Moments later Slim Jay’s body shook. He stopped humping for just a second, then began again with renewed vigor. A fresh bout of pain shot through his body. Avery screamed
He tried to say Slim Jay as he screamed, but the bliss and the agony were too intense to form real words. It ended up being consonant-less cry. Hiiiiii-hu Haaaaa-aaay! Slim Jay shot an incredibly huge load, which kept flowing and flowing, so Avery had to concentrate to keep shouting the whole time.
At last it was over. Slim Jay was laying on Avery’s back, his entire weight pinning Avery down. His hot cum congealed as it seeped into, and out of, Avery’s body. His dick sat, rock-hard still, in Avery’s asshole.
“How was that, whiteboy?”
“Oh god yes, please come back again,” Avery said. Tears twinkled in his eyes. “I’ll get malt liquor and cognac. I promise. Any kind you want.”
“You can surprise me, just don’t buy cheap shit,” Slim Jay said. He paused, then whispered in Avery’s ear. “You been a good sport. You like my dick in yo’ ass, huh, whiteboy?”
“Yeah!”
“You like nigga dick?”
“Yeah!”
“Say it.”
“I like-” Avery hesitated, instinctually unsure whether he could say nigga. When Slim Jay laughed at his hesitation, Avery blurted it out. “I like nigga dick! I like your nigga dick!”
Slim Jay smacked his cheek. “You callin’ me a nigger, whiteboy?”
“No, I-“
“Shut up,” Slim Jay said. He sat up, but took Avery with him, so his now-limpening cock remained deep in Avery’s ass. He wrapped his powerful arms around Avery’s bare chest. “Since you been good to me tonight, and you licked my ass like a champion, I’mma let you jack off now, wit’ my nigga meat inside you. You don’t tell no one, yeah?”
“Okay, I promise. I won’t tell anyone,” Avery said. He grabbed for his cock, which was stiff and straining, already near orgasm even though he hadn’t touched it.
Slim Jay bristled uncomfortably as though Avery’s ass had squeezed around his sensitive cock. It was enormously painful, and the pleasure emanating from his ass was now only a dull ache. Slim Jay had such a huge cock that even soft it felt like he was being fisted.
But as soon as he touched his own dick, climactic energy sprayed throughout him. Avery’s prostate burst into life, and leaned back into Slim Jay’s muscular arms.
“Nasty…”
Cum spurted from Avery’s cock. It sprayed over the floor and Avery’s fingers. Avery felt his asshole squeeze around Slim Jay’s rod, which made his muscles all shudder with post-orgasmic pleasure. Avery writhed in Slim Jay’s well-muscled arms.
When it was at last all over, Slim Jay wasted no time in dropping Avery, who collapsed in a sweaty pile on his own load of cum. He laid there, looking behind himself as Slim Jay stood up. He took ahold of the sheet Avery had been using with his air mattress, then wiped the assjuice off his cock.
He put his dick back in his sweatpants, gathered his cane, then stepped right on Avery’s back as he walked to the door. “Good job, bitch. You wanna take dick for money?” He stopped on Avery’s back.
Straining to speak with so much weight on him, Avery only shook his head.
“Pity,” Slim Jay said. “If you ever decide to do it, lemme know. I could make bank off you. I’ll see you next time, neighbor.”

Yes Drill Sergeant!

Private Nathaniel Muckham is in trouble again, writing checks his ass is gonna have to back! That’s cuz his cruel drill sergeant is the legendary Drill Sergeant Manstrong Powers, who’s been known to make his cadets bend over and take it!

Can Private Muckham handle the punishment Sgt. Powers is ready to dish out?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here

Nathaniel started quaking in his boots as soon as he saw Sergeant Powers. That was because Nathaniel had snuck out of the barracks at Fort Rumblemore today to fuck with this slut who had been begging for his cock. He didn’t have any leave, so he was technically AWOL for a couple hours.
But Nathaniel had made it back on base without getting caught. He and the other soldiers in his unit talked and played cards most of the night, and Nathaniel had slyly refused to tell them what he did while teasing them about it. Eventually he had had no choice but to let it slip.
But there was no way his squadmates would have ratted him out. Even if they had wanted to, nobody left the barracks. There was no time for anyone to have squealed to Drill Sergeant Powers.
Now it was past dawn, and everyone was putting their shorts on to get ready for the early morning routine.
Judging from the sweat that clung to his burly body, Sergeant Powers had already begun his morning run. His middle-aged body was craggy and weathered but packed with powerful muscles. Was Sergeant Powers here to yell at Nathaniel? He couldn’t imagine how he would know what had happened last night.
But when Powers stepped in and bellowed, “Atten-tion!”, Nathaniel knew that he had been caught. Powers stared right at Nathaniel, who snapped to his feet and saluted in sync with the other soldiers in the barracks. He wore only thin white briefs, which made him feel naked and vulnerable — if he had known Sergeant Powers was going to come into the barracks, he’d have worn shorts. He didn’t usually come into the barracks this early in the morning though.
Nathaniel had always been the biggest, toughest guy around, but now that he was in the Army, there was always someone stronger and larger not that far away. It had been humbling for him.
Sergeant Powers was one of those men who put Nathaniel to shame. Sergeant Powers was so big he had to send away for Army boots and pants that fit him. He stooped to get into the barracks. The sweat-stained green t-shirt he wore bulged against his muscles like it was too small for him.
He came close to Nathaniel, then came even closer, until they were foot to foot and nose to nose. “Some of you think that this place is like a resort, where you can come and go whenevuh you want,” Sergeant Powers said. He snorted and grabbed his nuts through his boxer shorts. When he moved his hand away, his limp, greasy cock flopped out through the fly.
Everyone else in the barracks gasped. It was impossible that Sergeant Powers didn’t realize what had happened, but he either did it deliberately or decided to roll with it. Nathaniel was shocked by how big it was. He had always kind of assumed that not every part of Sergeant Powers could be gigantic, that the rumors about his cock couldn’t be true. He just hoped the other rumors weren’t true either.
Sergeant Powers was sometimes called — not to his face — Sergeant Sodomy, because he was rumored to ramrod soldiers under his command. Supposedly a private had awoken to Powers fucking him one night, and he ended up needing stitches in his rectum and had to be discharged from the Army because he couldn’t march straight. Nathaniel had never believed those stories, but now he wasn’t so sure.
He gulped. Sergeant Powers screwed up his eyes right in front of him, so close they were practically kissing. He had been talking, but Nathaniel was entranced by that swinging cock. He didn’t know what Sergeant Powers had said.
“Huh? Private Muckham?” Sergeant Powers leaned in close, his toothpaste-scented breath condensing on Nathaniel’s face. It was hot and minty, an odd combination, and it made Nathaniel wrinkle his nose.
Then his massive hand cupped Nathaniel’s cock and balls through his boxers. The other soldiers gasped again, and Nathaniel’s knees went weak. He expected pain, assuming that Powers was going to squeeze his sac, but he didn’t. He just cradled Nathaniel’s genitals gently — but firmly — with one of his big, meaty hands.
“Sir, I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. He tried to sound confident.
“Did you hear the question I asked you, Private Shitface?”
“Sir… No. I’m sorry, sir,” Nathaniel said. Some of his fellow soldiers snickered.
“I ain’t think so. I asked you a question. I’m gonna pretend you was listenin’ to me and you answered me truthfully, Shitface,” Sergeant Powers said. “That okay with you?” His hands played with Nathaniel’s balls through the thin fabric of the Army-issue briefs he wore.
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Do you want me to tell the MPs what ya answer was, Private Shitface?”
“Uh… Sir… I don’t know, uh-“
Now he squeezed. He darted his hand beneath the waistband of Nathaniel’s underwear, gripped his cock and balls hard and squeezed, just hard enough to make Nathaniel wince and flash with pain. His knees buckled and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.
Now everyone gasped. Nathaniel even heard whispering — they were all attention, so that wasn’t allowed — and the term Sergeant Sodomy came out of someone’s mouth. Nathaniel prayed that wasn’t what was going to happen. Nathaniel hadn’t even missed any assignments or duties. It wasn’t a big deal, Nathaniel thought, he’d probably have kitchen duty for a few weeks. He didn’t even hate kitchen duty like most of the other soldiers — Nathaniel had grown up working in his parents’ restaurant, so peeling potatoes reminded him of home.
“Why not? If you happy wit’ me choosing the truthful answer, you should be okay with the military police findin’ out. That’s just logic, ain’t it?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Nathaniel said. He knew from dealing with Sergeant Powers in the past that it would be better for him to just admit it now. “Sir… I’m sorry. I snuck off-base last night. I shouldn’t have. It was just, there was a girl…”
“A girl?” Sergeant Powers said with a grin. “Why ain’t you say so? A girl. That makes anything okay, Private Shitface.” He took his hand off Nathaniel’s sweaty balls, then held it beneath Nathaniel’s nose. It smelled like stanky cockmeat, and Nathaniel wrinkled his nose. “Suck my hand clean, Private Shitface.”
“Ah shit, he’s doin’ it…”
“I told ya!”
The whispering seemed so loud now, Nathaniel couldn’t imagine why Sergeant Powers wasn’t yelling at them to get back at attention. But his dark, craggy face remained aimed directly at Nathaniel’s face, so close the tips of their noses glancingly touched. After a moment’s hesitation, Nathaniel did as he was told. Sergeant Powers slowly made him suck on all five fingers, and then Nathaniel licked his rough-skinned palm. He gagged at the salty flavor and callused texture of Sergeant Powers’s middle-aged man-flesh.
He thought that would be it. He just took Sergeant Powers’s finger in his mouth, gagged loudly and endured giggling from the other soldiers.
But it didn’t end there.
When Sergeant Powers took his hand away, Nathaniel’s mouth felt dry and dirty. He wanted to go brush his teeth. He could feel grainy dirt or maybe sweat-salt sticking to his tongue, and it made him gag even when he was done sucking Sergeant Powers’s hand.
“You put this whole unit at risk, Private Shitface.” He paused. “You know what? I’m gonna call you Private Fuckup from now on. That’s more appropriate, ain’t it?”
“Uh… Sir, yes, Drill Sergeant, sir, if you think so,” Nathaniel said.
“That’s appropriate cuz I’m gonna fuck you up, private,” Sergeant Powers said. He laughed when the others gasped and Nathaniel went white as a sheet. Sergeant Powers licked Nathaniel’s face from his chin to his forehead. “You taste like pussy. Is that cuz you was eatin’ pussy earlier? Or do you just taste like pussy? Either way, I’m gonna ramrod you.”
“Uh… sir?”
“What? You got a question?” He got up so close to Nathaniel that his massive cock pressed against Nathaniel’s bare thigh. Was it already hard? Nathaniel sure hoped so. It felt a little fleshy, but he couldn’t imagine it would get bigger. It was at least twelve inches long, he thought, maybe more. Nathaniel felt its veiny shaft pulsating against his well-muscled thigh.
“Get down on your knees,” he said with a sneer.
“Holy shit, do we have to watch this?”
“Private Muckham’s about to become Private Punk-’em.”
Nathaniel slid down to the ground amid snorts of muffled laughter. He looked around as though his fellow squadmates might rescue him, but they all stood at attention, trying to avoid looking at Nathaniel.
Then Sergeant Powers flopped his limp cock onto Nathaniel’s face.
Instantly Nathaniel gagged. It smelled so bad he thought something was wrong. A part of his mind recognized that it just smelled like a nasty pussy — which he had gotten drunk and licked before. By its nature penis smelled like vagina, and the only reason Sergeant Powers’s smelled bad was that he had just run two miles and spent an hour lifting weights. Nathaniel would later be told that Sergeant Powers always did that — that was why he hadn’t confronted Nathaniel in the coolness of night, he wanted to be sweaty and nasty when he attemptd at Nathaniel. His cock was jiggly and fatty, and it roped limply over Nathaniel’s face.
“How much do you think you can swallow, Private Fuckup?”
“Uh… sir?”
“Point on my dick. How deep do you think you can take it?”
“I, uh… I dunno, sir.”
“Well, think about it, idiot. Make a fucking prediction,” Sergeant Powers said. He slapped Nathaniel’s face with his cock, and a fresh burst of sweaty smell assaulted Nathaniel’s senses.
That is definitely not erect, that’s how big it is soft, Nathaniel thought and wanted to cry. It wasn’t totally limp either, but it slapped over his face like an uncooked sausage. There is no way anyone takes that whole cock in their throat or their ass, he told himself over and over. Impossible. It left behind a layer of grease and cock-scent on his face, which made him gag.
Blushing at the sound of his fellow squadmates laughing until Sergeant Powers shot them a harsh glare, Nathaniel pointed to a random spot, about a third of the way down the shaft. “There. Sir. I uh… I can swallow to there.”
“There, huh? That ain’t bad,” Sergeant Powers said. He let out an exaggerated moan as he guided Nathaniel’s pointing finger into a circle, which he then wrapped around his cock. Nathaniel gagged again at that fleshy feel.
Nathaniel’s hand remained still, and Sergeant Powers bucked his hips back and forth, giving himself a handjob with Nathaniel’s grip. He took off his shirt to reveal his powerful chest and faded tattoos. He was so tall that crouched-down Nathaniel’s head was beneath his crotch, and Sergeant Powers had to bend his knees to massage Nathaniel’s cheeks.
“Ah damn, sorry Nathaniel…”
He pried Nathaniel’s jaws apart. Nathaniel didn’t mean to resist, he just couldn’t help himself. His chin trembled A few tears trickled down his cheek. He wouldn’t have snuck out if he knew this would be the punishment. It wasn’t fair, he thought.
His mind stopped worrying moments later because potent saltiness invaded his senses, so strong he gagged and his eyes watered. It was just the tip of Sergeant Powers’s cock, and it was salty because he was sweaty from his night-time jog around the base.
“There he goes!”
“Oh shit, I ain’t think he’d really do it.”
Sergeant Powers sighed as he bucked his hips, pushing his dick in deeper. Nathaniel couldn’t stop gagging, even though he was aware it just made this feel even better for Sergeant Powers, whose dick perked up in his mouth.
People had been making “don’t go to prison” jokes since he was young on account of Nathaniel’s big mouth. He never gave it much thought until today. Most men wouldn’t have been able to do anything more than tease the tip of Sergeant Powers’s throbbing cock. But Nathaniel got the entire head in his mouth, and that firm shaft invaded his throat.
The smell was so intense Nathaniel wanted to vomit. He probably would have thrown up if his throat wasn’t plugged up by a rod of military meat leaking precum down his gullet.
“I ain’t never said at ease, boys!” Sergeant Powers bellowed. A few soldiers had crept out of line to watch, and a few others covered their eyes like they couldn’t bear to see it. They all jumped back in position, arms pointed downward at their side. “You too, Private Fuckup,” Sergeant Powers said. “On your knees but at attention. Keep your hands down.”
His hands had been flailing uselessly — Nathaniel wanted to push Sergeant Powers away, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to touch any part of Powers’s muscles. He had to force his hands to his side. He straightened his back, trying not to gag with every thrust of Sergeant Powers’s cock into his throat.
He was surprised at how physically easy it was — Nathaniel had thought swallowing cock required effort and concentration. But all he actually had to do was not fight back. That wasn’t easy for him mentally, but when he managed to loosen his throat, Powers’s dick slid most of the way down it. His balls swayed against Nathaniel’s chin.
It was, however, difficult for Nathaniel to accept without panic. It felt like he was being torn up from the inside out. He wanted to vomit but couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe or speak or cough or do anything but taste the sweat and precum trickling into his mouth. He was dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“You doin’ better than you predicted,” Sergeant Powers said. “But I don’t accept nothin’ less than perfect.” He wrapped his fingers over Nathaniel’s scalp and held his head in place.
Nathaniel cried out for air as he choked. He couldn’t help himself from sobbing as he sputtered on the cock invading his throat. Sergeant Powers used his other hand to pinch Nathaniel’s nostrils shut, which opened his throat wide enough that every inch of Sergeant Powers’s cock fit down there. His balls swung and thwacked against Nathaniel’s chin.
“Listen to that sound. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. “
“I know, yeah, Nathaniel swallows dick like a fuckin’ champion. I ain’t know he was talented like that.”
“He got that big mouth…”
“Now stand up and bend over,” Sergeant Powers said. He grimaced like he didn’t want to do this, while the other soldiers snickered nervously.
He pulled out and Nathaniel was overcome by dizziness. He toppled over as he tried to stand. Great gobs of saliva and stomach bile spilled out of Nathaniel’s throat. The only reason he didn’t vomit was that he hadn’t eaten since early the previous evening — he would have been hungry except that he was nauseous and full of precum — so Nathaniel dry-heaved as he tried to stand. Then Sergeant Powers grabbed him by the shoulders and bent him over the bed. Nathaniel retched and fell limp onto his own bunk.
“Stick your ass up,” he barked.
Nathaniel moaned as he did so. His asshole twinkled in anticipation. His mind raced, unable to consider what was about to happen because he still heaved for breath.
“Beg me for it, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir, please… No…”
“What was that?!”
“I mean… yes. Please, uh…”
“Cornhole me. Say it.”
“Cornhole me. Please cornhole me, Sergeant…” Nathaniel’s entire body cringed. He hated showing obedience to anyone, and he especially hated himself for begging to be fucked. Being held down and cornholed was one thing, but Nathaniel was literally begging for it. He would never be able to admit that this happened, he thought, he’d be forever in denial about it — could he even continue working alongside all these witnesses? He felt like he might not be able to. If they teased him about it, he’d hit them. What if he got sent to military prison? They had a hundred Sergeant Sodomys there, he thought, sobbing into his bunk.
Then pain exploded in his ass. Nathaniel screamed and hyperventilated. He stuck his head up high in the air, tears streaming down his cheek. His face was bright red, and his entire body clenched.
Sergeant Powers took his boxers and filled Nathaniel’s mouth with them. He held onto the edges and used them like a bridle, guiding Nathaniel as he tried to crawl away.
“Please, sir…”
“More? You want more? Is that what you’re asking, Private Fuckup? Speak up!” He ground his hips to squeeze more of his cock into Nathaniel’s tight ass. “Maybe I should call you Private Loose-Asshole. How’s that sound?”
“Sir, whatever you want, sir,” Nathaniel said through gritted teeth, the words barely decipherable through the boxers in his mouth. There must have been pubic hairs clinging to the fabric, Nathaniel thought, because he could feel them tickling his throat.
The radio attached to Sergeant Powers’s clothes flickered into life. Powers, you out on your run? It was so loud that it made Nathaniel jump and his asshole loosen a bit, so another inch or so of cockmeat slid into him. Nathaniel wondered how much was left to take, but he was too scared to turn around and check.
Powers slapped one of Nathaniel’s cheeks. He had to stretch to reach the radio on his shorts and his shirt, and when he moved, his cock twitched inside Nathaniel. Whatever it touched must have been sensitive, because Nathaniel felt like he was being torn in two. He screamed until Powers pushed his face into the mattress of his bunk, muffling the sound.
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said into the radio.
Uh, okay, did you see that note from the duty sergeant last night? About that, uh… Muckham?
“Yes,” Sergeant Powers said with a smile. “I saw that note. I’m taking care of it right now.”
There was a nervous chuckle on the other side of the radio. Oh, so right now, you’re… doling out one of your special punishments?
“That’s right.”
Okay. Just so you know, it’s okay to not answer your radio sometimes. I don’t need to hear this.
“Uh, it’s standard procedure, Paul. What if the Canadians chose today to attack? It would be just like them. Wait a minute, Paul, this is the sound of Inch Thirteen.”
From his vantage point, Nathaniel couldn’t see what Sergeant Powers did. But from everyone’s laughter, he gathered that Powers had placed the radio transmitter near Nathaniel’s ass, pressed the button and then pushed the last inch of his cock into Nathaniel’s tearing ass. There was a moist squishing sound, and Nathaniel moaned in agony.
“That’s what a nice big punishment sounds like.”
Sounds delightful, Powers. Remind me to forbid my wife from ever meeting you. Base out.
Sergeant Powers laughed and threw the radio, and his dirty clothes, onto Nathaniel’s pillow. He grabbed Nathaniel’s chin with one hand and placed his other on the small of Nathaniel’s back. “Okay, Private Fuckup, here we go. I’m all the way in. Can you believe that? Most women can’t take all thirteen inches in their pussy, much less their ass. But then most women aren’t shitheaps like you. Anyway, I’m gonna start really plowing now. This is the part that’s gonna hurt the worst. You ready?”
Blinking back tears, Nathaniel nodded. He thought he was supposed to say yes out loud too, but Sergeant Powers didn’t seem to care. He just started pounding.
His dignity disappeared as Nathaniel screamed. Sergeant Powers forced his head up so everyone could see Nathaniel’s tense, weeping face, while keeping his ass low and submissive. He brought all thirteen inches out, leaving just the tip in, then slammed the entire shaft back in.
He groaned with each thrust of his hips, while Nathaniel couldn’t stop screaming. He finally fell silent only when Sergeant Powers laid atop Nathaniel’s back, grinding his dick within Nathaniel’s ass and cackling into Nathaniel’s ear as he squirmed from the pain.
He had no idea how long that lasted. It felt like forever, Nathaniel thought, and he wondered if his asshole was ruined — it felt like it would never be tight again. He tried to crawl away but Sergeant Powers’s hairy, sweat-slickened muscles weighed him down. Nathaniel could feel every ounce of machismo writhing, flexing above his back, breathing heavy into his ear. He cried, not that anyone could hear him over the sound of Sergeant Powers’s frenzied snorts as he rutted inside Nathaniel’s guts.
Nathaniel was so numb in the ass that he didn’t feel Sergeant Powers’s orgasm began. He just realized it was happening when there was a powerful warming sensation inside him, and Sergeant Powers’s muscles all twitched at once.
He sighed as Nathaniel filled up with his seed. Utter humiliation flowed through Nathaniel’s veins. He cringed and tried to bury his face, but Sergeant Powers forced him to remain upright, looking at his squadmates.
It felt like piss, Nathaniel thought. He could feel Sergeant Powers’s dick softening and pulsating as the cum flowed through it, and he shot such a huge load that it kept going, not in wads but in a constant stream.
More and more cum filled him, so much that Nathaniel imagined he could taste it. His skin felt sticky as though he was covered in it from head to toe. It didn’t hurt any less, even when it was done and Powers’s massive cock gradually limpened.
“I’m waiting for you, private.”
“Uh… Wh-Wh-” Nathaniel didn’t know what he was expected to do. All he could think about was the wrenching pain in his ass. Was he bleeding? He couldn’t tell, but it wouldn’t surprise him. He was in too much agony to turn his head and look, and besides that, he didn’t want to see.
“I’ll remove my cock when you ask me to.”
“Please… uh, take, uh… take your… Uh… Take your cock…” Nathaniel twisted and gasped. His face was bright red, eyes alternating between open wide and squeezed shut. He clawed at the sheets beneath him.
“Say it properly, Private Fuckup. Say it in a complete sentence, like a soldier.”
Nathaniel tried to take a deep breath but that caused an outpouring of pain in his ass. He ground his face into the bunk, then grunted and tried to speak. “Uh… Sir! Please… Please remove… your cock… from my ass.”
“Don’t cuss, Private Fuckup.”
“Sir… Please, uh, remove your penis from… my… anus,” Nathaniel said. That made some of the other soldiers laugh quietly, still standing at attention at the foot of their bunks.
“What have you learned from this experience, Private Fuckup?”
“To, uh, not sneak out! I’ll always follow the rules, I swear,” Nathaniel said. He had never been so humiliated. Back in high school, Nathaniel was a rebel and a punk. He would have killed himself rather than beg for a chance to be obedient. But now he couldn’t think about anything but the splitting pain in his asshole.
Sergeant Powers stood. “Atten-tion!” Nathaniel sighed as he felt that cock slide out of him, like he was taking a massive dump. It tingled, hurt and felt good all at once. His asshole was cold as it gaped, exposed to the air.
“I said ‘At Attention’, Private Fuckup!”
The agony was excruciating as Nathaniel forced himself to stand at attention. He felt cum trickling down his legs. His cock had never seemed smaller. His asscheeks were numb but his asshole screamed with agony.
“Private Fuckup, are you satisfied with the rules of this base?”
“Sir, yes, sir. I’ll never sneak off again.” Nathaniel sniffled and held back tears. He struggled to remain upright and at-attention at the foot of his bed.
Sergeant Powers smiled. He flopped his massive, grimy cock between his fingers. Fluids dripped from it and clung to his trunk-like thighs. “I really hope that ain’t true, boy. Cuz you got a nice ass. I’ll be watchin’ you for another reason to wreck it.”