shadowboxing – Mansploitation

The Pehlivan

Rob is in Turkey to sponsor a pehlivan — a Turkish oil wrestler — and maybe get a peek at his body. But it turns out Turks have some unusual ideas about what sponsors, can, should or may do to the men they sponsor, giving Rob an opportunity he’ll never forget!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

The whole plan was overly complicated, in retrospect. As Rob Winthrop dropped to his knees and started to jerk Kaan off, that had become abundantly clear. It had proven much easier to get Kaan’s thick uncut cock in his mouth than he thought it would be.
When Rob had decided to sponsor a Turkish oil pehlivan (called a pehlivan) so he could spend time alone with him, he thought he’d be lucky to get a look at his naked body. He came up with a long excuse for why he needed to see him before and after the match (he didn’t mention that he hoped that was when Kaan would be naked, greasing himself up). He assumed the Turks who managed Kaan’s career wouldn’t like that.
As soon as he met Kaan Gözübüyük, right before the first match began, Kaan stripped off all his clothes there in the staging area. It wasn’t even a locker room, it was wide open, dozens of pehlivans and trainers hanging around, plus a handful of regional Turkish press.
Kaan was a massive, hairy-chested Turkish man with a big uncut cock. He had no regard for modesty. He stood there proudly, hairy body and massive cock all hanging free, still ungreased for the moment. He must have realized Rob was talking to his coach about him, but he still showed no reaction.
Rob talked to the coach, learning about strategy for the match. Rob didn’t understand much of it, and he didn’t pay attention to the coach’s words. Rob had no interest in the sport of it and was unaware until this very moment that a sponsor was apparently expected to hear about strategy and training regiments, promises to win the championship this year. Now that Rob knew listening, and presumably participating in, these kinds of discussions was part of being a sponsor, he realized he didn’t need such a complicated plan to get in here.
“That sounds wonderful, sounds like he’s got a real shot this year,” Rob said. That seemed like the kind of thing a sponsor should say. Inside though, he just kept sneaking glances at Kaan’s motionless body.
Were some of the other sponsors massaging the men? It looked like it, in the periphery of Rob’s eyesight, but he didn’t move his head to see more clearly. That coach could really go on. Some of them didn’t have as much to say, but Kaan’s coach, Coach Badem Kubat, was a real motormouth. He kept switching back to Turkish for a few sentences, as though he thought Rob was fluent, but only in short bursts.
He wondered both how far Kaan was willing to go, how far Coach Badem was willing to allow Kaan to go, and how far modern Turkish society would allow them to go. Now that he saw Kaan in person, Rob had a strong feeling that Kaan was one of those rough machos who didn’t much care whom he rammed so long as he was on top. It’s not shameful if you’re sticking it in someone else’s hole, Rob thought (and hoped Kaan thought).
And then, finally, the coach stopped talking. The other pehlivans had started rubbing olive oil into their skin, and in a few cases, coaches or sponsors or men of uncertain relevance did the rubbing. Much to Rob’s delight, Kaan gave him a bucket of olive oil and invited him to get started — Kaan apparently only spoke Turkish, so he used hand motions to communicate that. He flexed his biceps and his chest, then stood there like a statue, like he expected to be inspected by Rob. So Rob tried to pretend he wasn’t excited to cover Kaan’s hairy muscles in olive oil, as he grimaced and studiously caressed Kaan’s frame.
He eyed him up and down like he was evaluating his musculature. Other sponsors were doing that as the pehlivans got greased up.
In Turkish oil wrestling (yağlı güreş), men oil each other up and wear these loose trousers called kisbet. The goal was to gain control of one’s opponent’s kisbet, such as by sticking your hands down his kisbet. Since both men were greased up with olive oil, they were both slick and slippery, and since they were Turkish, they were handsome, muscular, bulging with powerhouse bodies. It was Rob’s favorite sport.
He massaged oil into every inch of Kaan’s body. He caressed his chest and shoulders, and even wiped oil over Kaan’s asshole and his cock and balls. As he did, he patted each muscle as though he approved of it. He kept one hand on Kaan’s powerfully muscled asscheek, which was flexed tight.
“I will wrestle… sir… the best, uh… Sir…” He gruntingly spoke in English. It was clear he didn’t actually know English, but someone had taught him the words he needed to say. “I am, I have, a, uh, I have a, I am planning, on… plan to strategy. For winning.” He spoke thickly, like his mouth was full of pudding. Rob wrapped one hand around his cock, but he didn’t stroke it, he waited to see if Rob was scolded by either Kaan or the coach. Kaan showed no reaction at all.
“Please do not jerk him off now,” said Coach Badem, who spoke barely comprehensible British-inflected English. “It is bad before a match. It will inhibit his performance.”
Rob blushed and let go of Kaan’s cock. Was this normal? Did a lot of pehlivan sponsors jerk their men off? Now that he thought about it, that seemed likely to Rob — what other sport gives you nearly naked men rubbing oil into each other’s muscles and sticking their hands down each other’s pants? Of course they did it. “Sure, okay-“
“After the match, you may do as you wish. You may service him then, he will submit.”
They walked away then, leaving Rob with greasy hands and the scent of Turkish muscle-sweat in his nostrils. He watched Kaan’s meaty ass shake once he put on his loose kisbet. Kaan gave no indication he understood what Coach Badem said. Was that because Kaan already assumed it would happen? Or did Kaan not speak English well enough to understand?
Rob headed out to the stadium, where he found a seat away from anyone else, it was in a section reserved for sponsors, coaches and others, though they mostly stayed down on the field, giving Rob plenty of space to be alone. He watched the match with a hardon the entire time. His seat was near the action, so close he could taste droplets of sweat and oil on his tongue.
It took most of an hour, but eventually Kaan took his turn, wrestling a similarly massive buck from the other side of Turkey. By then, Rob had picked up enough to be interested in watching, to see if Kaan would win. Kaan seemed like a huge brute, but then, the other Turk did too. Rob would have gladly serviced either one of them.
Turks shouted and cheered. The audience called for one or the either pehlivan to win, and encouraged them both to wrestle their hardest. Rob followed along with his limited Turkish. Luckily none of the whooping and calls were grammatically complex, and Rob got the gist of them.
“Go Kaan!” Rob blushed again because he felt kind of silly, a white guy yelling in poorly articulated Turkish from a lonely corner of the stadium. But no one seemed to notice him. Kaan began the match with a quick grapple, but he was unable to gain control of his opponent’s kisbet. Both men’s muscles writhed, gleaming with olive oil in the brilliant midday Turkish sun.
Flesh slapped on flesh. He wished he could ram his head between their bodies, licking the sweat and olive oil off their bodies. All he could do was watch them fumble with each other’s cock and balls, stroking each other’s hairy asscheeks beneath their kisbets.
Finally, Kaan won. He pumped his biceps with a big goofy grin on his face. The crowd erupted in cheers.
That lasted for only a moment before the referee announced him the winner and Kaan put his stony macho face on — it was untoward for a pehlivan to gloat excessively. Still, Rob could see him bristling with pride.
After that, the tournament continued, but Rob was done watching. He snuck into the changing area just a few paces behind Kaan, whose body was streaked with sweat. He was still worked up, muscles quavering like he was just looking for someone to punch. He paced through the changing area.
“Wait,” Rob said when he got in the changing area and saw that Kaan’s coach was leading him into the shower. “Let me see Kaan first.” Rob didn’t want Kaan to shower before he got a chance to taste all that delicious sweat.
Still shadowboxing the air, Kaan complied, and he came to Rob near the door to the changing area. Just a few feet away the next bout was beginning. The air here was redolent with the scene of male sweat and body hair, and of course rank olive oil. They said they used only high quality olive oil, but Rob was knowledgeable enough to guess that that was a lie. It was cheap-ass stuff.
Not that Rob was bothered by it.
He came closer to Kaan, inhaled deeply of his scent and planted his tongue right on Kaan’s bicep. He licked up all the musk there. Kaan looked at him like he was crazy. Rob chuckled. “Is this alright? I want to lick you all over, Kaan.” He kept his tongue moving up and down his arm, which Kaan flexed.
With a frown on his face, Kaanlooked at Coach Badem, and they spoke in Turkish. The coach cleared his throat. “You may not put a finger in his ass. But yes, you may service him all over.”
Kaan grumbled to himself and danced back and forth on his feet, while Rob’s tongue sopped up all the foul sweat and bitter olive oil clinging to his muscles. Though he played himself off as too tough and crude to be into it, he loved plowing men — he could be meaner and rougher with them than he could with girls — he just didn’t want it to be obvious that he liked it.
And he truly did not like getting licked like a kitten like this. Many sponsors wished to do so, and Kaan would have refused, but then nobody would fund his career.
So he stood there with his arms stiff, cock dangling like he was too good for Rob. Kaan was used to his sponsor controlling everything about him, from what he ate to where he exercised to which girls he spent time with. Having one jerk him off was better than any of those possibilities.
Rob blushed and got started. He first sucked all the sweat off his chest and his back, then his arms, his armpits, his thighs, his hair-choked ass. Kaan was very hairy, which Rob loved. He wanted to taste each kinky black hair and savor the salty sweat that clung to each one. The flavor of sharply astringent sweat flooded Rob’s senses.
You may not stick a finger in his ass.
Was that his only rule? The coach’s words took a moment for Rob to grasp. As his tongue lapped at Kaan’s hairy chest, Rob wondered if Coach Badem was giving him permission to do even more than this. Was it normal? Kaan reacted like it was a necessary but distasteful part of his career.
The bitter savory taste of olive oil assaulted Rob’s senses. He loved how it accentuated the salty-sourness of his sweat. He could even taste a second layer of sweat — that was the other pehlivan’s, the one who lost his match to Kaan, which had a different, grassier, fresher flavor to it. Rob’s hands caressed Kaan’s muscles, which flexed and puckered beneath his grasp.
Kaan stood there, grunting, hands on his waist. His chest heaved and he closed his eyes. Rob dropped to his knees. He picked up Kaan’s cock and looked up — no reaction at all. He tried to make eye contact with Kaan, but his eyes were closed.
This was the part Kaan loved. He felt like a big man, like he was so powerful he could force another man to submit — he knew in this case he wasn’t forcing the man, but still, to him it felt like he could have forced it. He was potent enough and strong enough and tough enough to make a man submit to his will.
At last Rob put the tip in his mouth, just the tip, which again sparked no response from Kaan. Rob’s hands reached up massaged his chest while his mouth suckled on Kaan’s cocktip, which made a twinge of firmness erupt in his shaft. It still was nowhere near a full erection, but it was beginning, and Kaan’s muscles rippled from head to toe. Rob pulled off his knob and craned his head around Kaan’s powerful thighs to make eye contact with Coach Badem, “Sorry, is this alright? I don’t want to sponsor a man whose manhood doesn’t work. I must inspect him. I know he won his match, but I do not know how serious of a rival the other pehlivan was.”
Coach Badem nodded. “Yes. That is fine. Jerk him off all you wish.”
Kaan grunted and said something in Turkish. The coach responded like he disagreed, and they argued. Then the coach flared his nostrils.
“Kaan says you may put a finger in his ass,” he said. He hesitated as though going to give a reason, but then he just bit his lip. Finally he added, “it is only just… It is a valid… There are medical reasons you may wish to do that, to inspect his manhood and its functioning.”
Rob hadn’t noticed that Kaan’s eyes were open, sneaking a glance down at Rob. When they made eye contact, Kaan closed them again and pretended that they had never been open. His muscular body swayed from side to side as Rob sucked on his dicktip.
A giggle escaped from Rob’s lips as he realized that Kaan was asking to get fingered. No wonder, he thought, Coach Badem had hurried to forbid that. Rob’s hand snuck up between Kaan’s hairy legs to his ass, which was also choked with dense kinky hairs.
A sigh escaped from Kaan’s lips as he felt Rob’s finger teasing the rim of his asshole, and Kaan’s desirous reaction made Coach Badem let a groan escape from his own lips. Rob’s fingertip on Kaan’s tight asshole made him shudder and bite his lip to avoid a louder sound.
“Remember yourself, Kaan.”
He disliked Coach Badem telling him what to do all the time. Unlike his sponsor, Kaan’s coach didn’t pay him money (he did buy him food and clothes and girls and other things, but Kaan didn’t think about that too much), so Kaan didn’t want to hear orders from him. He didn’t have a choice but to do what Coach Badem said though.
As he kept stroking, Rob slipped his finger between Kaan’s cheeks. The flesh there was choked with fur, sweat and olive oil, which made Rob moan with desire. Kaan grunted too, though he tried to keep it from being too loud — he was still pretending for Coach Badem’s sake that he didn’t want to do this.
Then Rob’s finger slipped in further, massaging just inside the rim of his asshole. Kaan groaned, his dick rocketing to full erection even before Rob entered him. His hole puckered and opened, virtually sucking Rob’s finger into him.
“Ah….” Kaan couldn’t help but moan. That bone-rattlingly deep grunt escaped from Kaan’s mouth, and his cock twitched. Precum flowed freely down Rob’s throat. The salty flavor was the same as, but somehow also different from, the taste of the oil-and-sweat film that covered Kaan’s body hair.
Kaan spread his legs to give Rob better access to his ass. That way Rob could really get in there, ramming his finger in and out now that he could tell that neither Kaan nor Coach Badem were going to stop him. First, Rob used his pinkie finger, but Kaan was a big man and he didn’t complain, so Rob switched to his middle finger. When even that went in easily, Rob used both his middle and index finger.
At last that made Kaan grunt and bite his lip. His asshole clenched down tightly on Rob’s finger. Pain made him break out in sweat again, but then that melted away, replaced by intense pleasure and a rolling, undulating moan. Rob worked that dick harder, timing his fingers so that he had them all the way in Kaan’s ass at the same moment that Rob had his mouth off Kaan’s cock, then he switched them, going back and forth until Kaan was on the verge of orgasm.
“Finish up, Kaan. There is much for us to do.”
His balls twitched and his cock pulsated angrily — Kaan hated to be rushed, especially by Coach Badem. He remained motionless with his hands on his hips, but he let loose with a panoply of sounds from his bearded mouth, and his knees buckled when a pang of bliss shot up his spine.
He was near orgasm, but it stopped now. Kaan’s cock was rock-hard, bigger than it had ever been before, or so it seemed to Kaan. He blinked his eyes, needing to fight back the urge to grab Rob’s head and make him swallow it some more.
As Rob turned around, lifting his ass in the air, Kaan grumbled happily but Coach Badem frowned. He didn’t say anything, but he did lightly pat Kaan on his meaty shoulder as though reminding him of something. Kaan growled and pushed him away. He knew Coach Badem didn’t think this was appropriate — he didn’t even approve of having sex with women in the ass — but Kaan was glad to prove he wasn’t Coach Badem’s slave.
“Shut up, I will do it. My sponsor has ordered me to,” Kaan said in Turkish, glad to have an excuse. He closed his eyes and murmured to himself, ignoring Coach Badem’s judgmental stare.
So Rob backed his ass onto Kaan’s cock. Still, Kaan didn’t move. He kept his hands on his hips even as his muscles rippled and he sighed like Rob was scratching an itch that had been bothering Kaan for a very long time. He watched his dick sink into Rob’s tight hole.
At first, pain hit Rob, and Kaan grunted, his hands still at his side as if he didn’t want to be involved in this. That wasn’t going to slow Rob down. It was now clear sponsors were allowed, even expected, to do this kind of thing, and it was true, he did want to test Kaan’s manhood. If it were lacking, Rob would stop sponsoring him. All those things were true.
And all of them added up to Rob being allowed to penetrate himself with Kaan’s massive cock. It twitched and slipped out of his ass. Rob kept one hand on the floor to steady himself, while his other hand reached behind his body to hold Kaan’s erection in place. It throbbed in his grip. Kaan jutted his hips forward, but otherwise he simply didn’t particpate, only watching as Rob struggled to force himself lower and lower on Kaan’s shaft.
A slow-melting sense of pleasure exploded in Rob’s ass. Kaan’s lack of movement was unusual and made the positioning rather awkward for Rob, but that only made the plowing feel even better. Rob slid his ass backwards onto Kaan’s dick, which had enough spit and olive oil on it to act as lube.
“Oh god, yes…” Rob said with a moan. He realized that made the coach uncomfortable, so he added, “Yes, I have made a good investment in your man. You have trained him well. His manhood is very functional.”
The coach wrinkled his nose. He patted Kaan on the asscheek, which made Kaan grunt. Kaan bristled and again pushed Coach Badem away, but then a series of snarls and staccato Turkish syllables erupted between them. In the end, Kaan’s coach kept a possessive hand on his ass — and was he fingering him? Rob thought maybe, but he couldn’t see at all without craning his head behind himself.
Rob wondered if masturbating was going to be a problem. It might not have even been obvious he was doing it, he thought, since the coach seemed to be trying not to look even if he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t noticing the details, and Rob’s hand was covered up by his body. So as Kaan’s dick rammed at his prostate again and again, Rob began stroking his own self off. His prostate thrummed, sending a continuous wave of pleasure through his body, a wave that was knocked up a notch with each thrust of Rob’s cock down on Kaan’s ass.
He got the feeling that Kaan knew Rob was jacking his own self off though, even if he couldn’t see. Rob always felt an intimate connection like this with any man who was inside him — that was, he thought, part of being a god. He could sense the pleasure roiling deep within Kaan.
Once Rob got into the swing of things, Kaan did dimple his asscheeks as he daggered his dick in Rob’s ass. Rob didn’t need to do all the work. But Kaan only barely moved his body, like he was concealing his participation in this — maybe Coach Badem would be mad if Kaan did it too willingly? Rob didn’t understand what was happening, but he was glad that Kaan was ramming, ever so slightly, pushing his dickshaft over and into Rob’s sensitive prostate.
When Kaan reached his orgasm, Rob sensed it coming. He felt it in his soul, in the throbbing of his cock, in the way he breathed, in the forefront of Kaan’s mind, in his balls crawling up in his sac. Rob felt it roll over him like a wave. Ecstasy erupted in both men’s bodies at the same time. Kaan’s muscles rippled beneath Coach Badem’s grasp.
His own load flew out onto the floor of the changing area, while Rob moaned so loud it made the coach uncomfortable. Kaan grunted furiously, aggressively, though not loudly — he twisted and writhed, finally letting go of his own hips and grabbing Rob by the waist.
He slammed his cock all the way into Rob, then pressed down on him with all of his might. That forced his entire massive manhood into Rob’s ass, while his chest pressed against Rob’s smooth back.
As though he had been expecting this, the coach barked an order — which Rob could guess was quit it! — and smacked Kaan’s ass again and again to get his attention. Kaan snarled, ignored him, then pushed him away one more time.
Finally it was done. Rob’s ass was so full he couldn’t help but moan, squirming as Kaan slowly withdrew his cock. Each centimeter that slid out Rob’s rim sent another burst of sensations to wrack Rob’s tiny body. Kaan continued stonefacing even as the aftershocks of his own orgasm visibly rippled through his body.
At last, Kaan’s limp dick popped out, and Rob sighed when a mind-blowing sense of relief flooded his body. He had rarely been rammed so good. He moaned and collapsed onto the floor of the changing area, watching as Kaan scowled while Coach Badem scolded him.
“You should not have done that. It was disgusting, and it is not tolerated in this country..”
Kaan grumbled, hung his head, rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, sir.” He wished he could just wrestle, without coaches and journalists and fans, just him and his opponent and someone submissive he could drain his balls into when he was done. That, he thought, was the best part of yağlı güreş.
“Goodbye,” Rob said when they finally walked away. “Good match, Kaan. You’re an excellent pehlivan.”

The Raunchy Bouncer

Rob could have his pick of the bouncers at this trashy strip club, but he doesn’t want any of the handsome prettyboys… he wants the brutish scarface they call Knuckle! Can he submit to Knuckle’s powerful ways?!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Rob Winthrop was beginning to wonder if Knuckle had changed his mind. He sat in the champagne room alone, getting hard. The stripper — Destiny was her name — had giggled when Rob said he wanted to taste the dick of one of the bouncers, and when he said his target was Knuckle, she howled with peals of laughter interspersed with squeals of shock. She asked several times if he was sure, and did he mean the white one or the black one.
He meant the white one. He knew them both. The black one was Davon, and he was cute, like he should be an older brother in a Disney movie. He’d seem tough but he’d bust out homespun big-bro wisdom. That was not Rob’s type.
He liked his men rough and nasty, and Knuckle fit the bill. He was white, squat, no-necked, with a big burn scar on the side of his neck and shoulder. He was vaguely bikerish, vaguely skinheadish and — when Davon was around, at least — somewhat thuggesque too. He was intense. Everybody knew about him, even people who never came to Lipsweet knew about the “freakazoid bouncer at the strip club”. Knuckle looked like a serial killer, and he talked like Slingblade.
“Are you sure? He smells. Like he doesn’t use deodorant. He says he does, but I don’t think he does.”
“We complained about his smell, Mr. Gregarian told him to shower more or something. It helped… some.”
“Yeah, you want Davon, he is so cute. He’s got dimples for days. And he will totally let you jack him off for like fifty bucks, if I tell him I think it’s hot. Which I will, for fifty bucks also.”
“No. I want the weird one.”
Rob didn’t explain. Women, he thought, were so stupid. They liked clean men, but Rob knew that the best men were the raunchiest ones. The tastiest fruit was the most rancid, that was what he always said. Or at least what he always thought. He didn’t say that kind of thing out loud very often because people would think him weird.
Now Rob sat in the champagne room, certain that something had gone wrong, that he had changed his mind. Rob asked Knuckle point-blank, right in front of Davon — the strip club, Lipsweet, was ten minutes to closing time then — and offered him five hundred dollars.
But Knuckle just scowled. One of the girls dragged Rob away as though he had made a faux pas. He thought maybe Knuckle was more violent than he had predicted.
But she said he would do it, he just needed to get drunk first. And so that was why Rob sat in the champagne room.
It’d be better if he doesn’t see you until he’s ready.
Rob was so excited. Mom had been riding him about getting a girlfriend. She texted him all night, increasingly incomprehensibly as she guzzled her gin and Rob waited in the strip club for the time to be right. Knuckle kept drinking. Rob needed him good and drunk.
Oh god, he thought, Mom’d be furious and humiliated if she knew Rob had gone to a strip club. She thought places like that should be illegal. Hell, she thought Hooters should be illegal. She’d be fine with police inspecting women’s hemlines like in the olden days.
Finally the door opened. Knuckle tottered in, on unsteady feet. He was obviously very drunk. He reeked of liquor. He had taken off his shirt, so he wore only a wifebeater, which revealed that that burn scar on the side of his neck extended in thin tendrils down his chest and his belly. It looked like something hot and sticky had been dumped on him. His muscular chest was too big for him, his size bursting out of his tight wifebeater, his pecs rippling like he needed to use them for every action he took.
“Yo,” he said. “Let’s do this.” He had a deep, gravelly voice as flat as a pancake. For the first time, Rob wondered if something was very wrong with Knuckle. He looked at Rob as though he was going to murder him, eyes narrowed to slits. Rob understood then why the strippers were afraid of him.
“Okay.” Rob quaked, but he also took a deep breath of the sweaty funk that came off Knuckle’s powerful body. He had ejected a drunk asshole from the bar a few minutes ago, that was why he was worked up now, heart racing, sweat evaporating off his shoulders. His nostrils kept flaring, like he was working up enough fury to start swinging. He actually seemed more angry now than he did when kicking that man out, like he was still getting worked up over it. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face, because his eyebrow had been busted open when the man got a kick in. He was on the ground then, kicking up.
Knuckle either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was bleeding. He had a black eye too, an old one, more of a yellow eye now. His nose was crooked and squat and you could tell it would be easy to manipulate, it was one of those oft-broken noses you could play with like silly-putty. His ears were cauliflowered too. Was he a boxer? Probably. MMA fighter, something like that. Men like him always were MMA fighters.
He belched. The smell of cheap alcohol flooded Rob’s nostrils. He sunk to his knees and grabbed Knuckle’s cock through his ratty jeans.
Knuckle didn’t react to Rob’s touch, like he was too drunk to notice. He swayed. His dick twitched but it didn’t get hard yet. His pecs flexed beneath his stained wifebeater.
“I am gonna hurt ya, boy,” Knuckle murmured. Or maybe it wasn’t a murmur, maybe his voice was always like that, simmering like an angry pot. “You ain’t gonna like this. I ain’t some downlow homeboy like Davon. You wanna get him off?” The way he said ‘homeboy’ made it sound like he was subbing it in for a racial slur.
“Kinda. But I want you more.”
He chuckled. “If you quit partway through, you still gotta pay me.”
“Okay. I won’t quit.”
“I’m gonna hit you. I’m gonna make you real nasty.”
“That’s what I was countin’ on.” Rob shivered with both fear and arousal. He tried to touch Knuckle’s cock through his filthy jeans, which were stained with blood and mud and who-knew-what-else, but Knuckle slapped his hand away. It wasn’t a nice slap either. It hurt, and Rob took his hand away and frowned, and then another twinge of pain came from his hand as though Knuckle had hit him a second time. He didn’t, but his glare felt like a punch.
“I plowed men who displeased me in prison, and I only do it one way, so don’t go tellin’ me how to do it. I do it my way.” Knuckle grunted. His eyes narrowed to slits. He punched with one fist into the palm of the other hand, and he did it so suddenly and with such a loud thump it made Rob jump.
“Okay.” Rob gulped. He touched Knuckle’s dick through his jeans again, because Knuckle shifted his gaze in a way that suggested he wanted it. When Knuckle didn’t immediately complain, Rob touched the bulge in those filthy jeans with his fingertips, as gentle and gingerly as he could manage it.
Knuckle wrinkled his nose. It sounded like he had hoped to turn Rob off so he could get paid without having to do anything, or maybe that was too much guile to attribute to someone like Knuckle. Knuckle let out a growl like an angry housecat. “Get ya hand off my dick, bitch. I ain’t tell you to touch it yet.”
Rob dropped his hands to the ground. “Please, sir? I want to taste it.” He blushed.
“You will.” He pulled his cock out through the fly of his jeans. He let it flop there, limp, just inches in front of Rob’s face. For a moment, nothing happened, and Rob wondered if Knuckle was backing out. Maybe this was where he was gonna get violent. Rob winced, already certain he was going to get pistol-whipped or something. Maybe one of the strippers was colluding with Knuckle to rob Rob, not that he had any money.
But instead, Knuckle closed his eyes, sighed and let loose with a stream of piss. That was so sudden Rob yelped. Knuckle didn’t have the universal body language that most men did when they pissed. Usually that wasn’t the kind of thing that could be a surprise. You can always tell when a man’s about to piss. Knuckle, on the other hand, had the same face he had on when kicking that drunk out of the bar.
The urine was hot and acrid, and it made Rob’s eyes water. He doused his face in it and let it fill his mouth. It overflowed and still more came, soaking his clothes, and it puddled up on the disgusting floor of the strip club men’s room.
Rob loved piss. It made his own cock get hard in his pants. He didn’t touch it yet because he wanted to wait, and he wanted to savor the bitter taste of Knuckle’s urine. Rob felt filthy, skin crawling, clothes plastered to his flesh. He shivered.
“Don’t swallow yet, pansy,” he said. He bent down and pursed his lips like he was going to kiss Rob. Instead he hocked up a big loogie and spat it right into Rob’s mouth. “Still no swallowing, bitch.” He spat a few more times, leering with disgust as his phlegm plopped into Rob’s throat. The taste was sour and rancid, and it made Rob’s dick hard. Knuckle stood up, turned around and dropped his jeans. He stuck his ass in front of Rob’s face, spread his cheeks and farted.
He had a nice hairy ass, which smelled of stale sweat and farts even before Knuckle let loose. Then it was even stinkier. Rob retched and gagged, but still he neither swallowed nor spat out the raunch-soup in his mouth.
Knuckle poked his head out the door. “Damn, nigga, he takin’ it, you right, you right-“
“Man… What’d I tell you ‘bout calling me yo’ nigga?” Davon sounded like he was waiting on the other side of the door, listening in, maybe snickering with one of the strippers.
“I ain’t say my nigga. I said you was a nigga-“
“Don’t.”
“Come, look at my bitch, he is filthy,” Knuckle said. His voice stayed flat. He opened the door wide enough for Davon to see, and Rob thought Davon would laugh. Instead, he shouted back to Knuckle, who stayed stoic as though nothing was happening.
Davon duked up, and still Knuckle stood there like a statue. Meanwhile Rob listened and gargled on the mess in his mouth. Davon shadowboxed the air.
“C’mon, bitch, you fuckin’ piece of shit, c’mon!” Davon kept punching the air in front of Knuckle, who stonefaced. Every time he punched Davon grunted like a cocky bastard, like he was making Knuckle flinch. Knuckle wasn’t flinching and seemed totally unperturbed by Davon’s threats.
Which made sense to Rob. Davon was big and muscular and could no doubt throw a punch, but he was clean-cut and smooth. He was a prettyboy. He was the exact opposite of Knuckle in every way, and Rob found him a total turnoff. Girls loved him. He was also famous locally, as a bouncer, cuz the girls all said he was cute. At least the girls Rob hang out with did.
Okay, Rob wouldn’t kick him out of bed either. But he’d make him get sweaty first. At least that’d be something. Davon looked like he was literally never sweaty.
One of the girls hissed at them to stop fighting, and they seemed to mostly make up, though Rob could still hear hostility in their voices.
“Come on in, Davon, I know you said you was into plowin’ any hole-“
“I ain’t say that, motherfucker. I said I wouldn’t gotta think twice about doin’ it for five hundred bucks,” Davon said. “But that was before you pissed and farted on him. No way now. Nasty-ass shit. After he takes a shower, then I let him swing on it for five hundred bucks. You hear that, freak?”
Rob gurgled loudly, and some of the mess in his mouth overflowed. Davon erupted in gags and nervous laughter.
“Aw, I smelled that, I smelled that!” He screamed and walked away, then came back closer. “Aw, shit, you are nasty!” He poked his head into the door and gagged again. He ran off, talking to the strippers in the club. “Don’t go in there, ladies, it is nasty. It is too nasty. No way.”
Pain erupted in Rob’s cheek as Knuckle slapped him hard across the face. He slammed the door shut too, cutting off the sound of Davon and the strippers guffawing while the strip club shut down for the night. The sun was about to come up.
Rob moved for Knuckle’s cock, but Knuckle pushed him to the ground. He landed with a splash in the piss-puddle
“I ain’t tell you to touch it yet.”
“I’m sorry, Knuckle-“
“Don’t you call me that. You call me sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lick the floor, bitch,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. He spat on the floor.
Rob bent down and licked. He lapped at the stinking spot on the filthy linoleum floor, which tasted like foot and cum. It was salty, gritty and deliciously nasty.
“Ew, you know dudes just nut all over this floor, right? Like, hundreds of guys?”
“I know, sir.”
“You are fucking disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself. You talk to ya mama wit’ that mouth?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir. I am ashamed of myself.”
“You deepthroat?”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said. He poked a finger down his well-trained throat and gagged. Knuckle nodded his satisfaction.
“Alright. I’m gonna plow ya throat now,” he spat the words out angrily. He smacked Rob again. “You gonna fight me?”
“No-“
“Huh? Say it louder, bitch! Ya gonna fight me?!”
“No, sir-“
He smacked him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m pitiful!” Rob screamed. Tears of humiliation, fear and arousal erupted, and Knuckle shook his head. He smacked him over and over again. He took his cock out and flopped it over Rob’s face. He jabbed it, half-hard, like he was trying to stab Rob’s eyes out with it.
“Fuck you! Fuck you!” He pulled Rob’s jaws apart and slapped his dick right down into Rob’s mouth. His cock was still half-limp and rank from his sweaty boxers. He used all his weight to ram his dick in, pushing Rob’s head onto the floor.
He pivoted his hips, making Rob gag more violently than he ever had before. He couldn’t breathe, he could only retch at the rancid smell of Knuckle’s unclean cock. He got hard as soon as he got his dick wet, and it throbbed in Rob’s throat.
“Ah, damn, I wasn’t gonna admit this no matter what, pansy, but you swallow dick pretty good. If you was my girl, I’d tie you up in my basement, bitch.” He paused. “That’s a compliment, by the way.”
He pulled his dick out at last, and Rob took a deep, hoarse breath. He was dizzy, his lungs begging for oxygen. “Thank you, sir. I’d love to be tied up in your basement.”
“Hey, you okay in there?!” A female voice called out from outside — it sounded like Destiny, the stripper who was a friend of Knuckle’s. It was she who had assured him that the strip club wouldn’t intervene if Rob did get Knuckle to agree to some rough trade.
Knuckle looked down at Rob and raised one eyebrow. “I ain’t lettin’ you out till I’m done, so you best tell her you okay.”
Rob’s voice was hoarse and scratchy. “Yeah, I’m fine!”
“Okay… Have fun, Rob…” Destiny giggled and whispered something. A few girls giggled as they walked away.
The champagne room was very hot and humid, and Knuckle was drenched in sweat. Rob started licking his balls without being prompted. Knuckle grunted like he was going to punish Rob for doing something without permission, but then it felt so good he didn’t want to stop. He moaned.
“Get ya tongue out while you suck my balls, and really suck on ‘em,” Knuckle said. “Make some noise. Slurp ‘em. Slurp ‘em like a prison bitch.”
The salty, acidic taste of ballsweat made Rob’s eyes water all over again. He snaked his tongue out over the underside of his balls. Sweat poured into his mouth as Knuckle shook his body from side to side. He picked his balls up and plopped them back in Rob’s mouth. Rob slurped like he was sucking soda out of a nearly empty cup.
Then he switched back and forth between balls and cock. He dropped his balls in Rob’s mouth and groaned as he wiggled them around, then took his balls out and rammed his dick all the way in until Rob choked. Then he wiggled his hips around again to make Rob gag.
He pulled out and grabbed Rob by the throat, cutting him off from gasping. He dragged Rob across the room by the throat, peering him in the eyes. “I’m gonna stick ya in the ass now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s gonna hurt. I don’t use lube. I’m gonna make you bloody, if you ain’t too loose already,” he said. He was breathing heavy as though barely in control of his actions; it almost looked like he was imitating someone specific. His wild eyes were in a frenzy. Rob could definitely see why the strippers were afraid of him.
“Yes, sir-” Rob yelped in pain. Knuckle’s finger jammed into his asshole, all the way in. Rob’s hole puckered. He moaned as his pain was replaced by pleasure, and his dick rocketed to attention. Knuckle saw it, spat and punched Rob, which made him moan harder. Blood poured from his nose.
“You like it when you get punched wit’ a finger in ya ass?”
“Yes, sir,” Rob said through his tears. His dick spasmed, precum leaking out. Every time Knuckle punched him, the pain grew worse and his prostate came alive a little more.
“That is nasty. You know when I was in prison, this is how I punished my bitch. He used to cry and beg me to stop. But I ain’t never stop. I like hearin’ that sound. Makes me hard. And you like it?” He spat on Rob’s face. “You sicken me.”
“Yes, sir.” Rob sighed in relief as Knuckle withdrew his finger. But that lasted only a moment. He rammed his entire dick in with one smooth motion of his hips. Rob was loose from both arousal and the lube he had applied earlier — he knew from experience that Knuckle was not likely to bother. Alphas like him rarely did.
Knuckle grabbed Rob by his hair and ground his face into the floor. He spat over and over onto Rob’s cheeks, and on his tongue that lolled out of his open mouth. He punched Rob every few seconds in his side, not as hard as he could, but hard enough to hurt, and to make Rob’s ass clench around his cock.
“You like this, ya nasty? Huh? You disgustin’ piece of trash…”
“I love it, sir, I love it.”
He stopped moving. He hissed. “I’m gonna tell you a secret, pansy,” he said. “Ya know that story I just told ‘bout punishin’ my bitch by punchin’ him when he sittin’ on my cock?”
“Yes…” Rob had trouble concentrating due to the pain and pleasure simultaneously assaulting his senses.
“I tell every deadbeat I beat up that story to scare ‘em off ever comin’ back to this club. If they do come back, I make ‘em lick my asshole the next time. If they come back a third time, then I make ‘em my prison bitch for the night in the alley around back.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But that story is a lie,” he said. “If you ever tell anyone this, pansy, I will kill you. I swear to god, I will kill you in the most horrendous way I can think of. I will track down your mama and strike her dead too. Get me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I was the prison bitch in that scenario. I was owned by a black. I was little then, I wasn’t as big as I am now.” He paused, then he spat on Rob’s face again. “So that’s why I hate blacks. And cops, and bitches, and Mexicans and just ‘bout everyone else too. And ‘specially you, bitch.” He wrapped his hand around Rob’s throat and squeezed. “I could choke you to death right now, and you’d prolly like it. I would too. I don’t wanna go to back to prison, but I would. You’d prolly get off on that, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
He moved his dick from side to side, twitching it inside Rob’s ass. That caused mind-blowing agony and ecstasy to course through Rob’s veins. He squealed and squirmed.
“If you ever tell anyone that, motherfucker, I will bury you alive! I will rip ya goddamn head off! Ya hear me?!”
“Yes, sir! I swear!”
He choked Rob more. He smacked his face, then put both hands on his cheeks and pressed down with all his might as he slammed his dick in and out. Rob screamed and came onto the floor. The most potent orgasm of his life ran through his body. He shot a big wad of cum that sprayed over the grimy linoleum beneath him.
Then he felt Knuckle’s orgasm as well. It was a thick and creamy load, hot, sticky, spreading throughout Rob’s body. It was tremendously satisfying, and they both sighed. For just a moment, Knuckle seemed almost caring as he rubbed Rob’s head and shoulders.
“Fuckin’ nasty, I oughta rip the asshole right off ya body.”
“Yes, sir.”
Then he pushed Rob down again. He pulled his dick out and flopped its limp, rubbery shaft all over Rob’s face. Raunchy assjuice spread down his chin, and Rob licked it clean. He loved sucking ass off limp dicks, so he guzzled down every drop even as it made him gag over and over again.
Like he was in a rush to leave, Knuckle stood up as soon as he was done. He kicked Rob to the ground and walked out the door, stark naked. He turned around before he shut the door.
“Where’s that money, pervert?”
Rob stretched and sighed. He grabbed his wallet out of his pants. He passed the money to Knuckle, while a few girls giggled at the sight of Knuckle’s bare ass and muscled back, which dripped with sweat.
“Put some damn clothes on, Knuckle!”
Knuckle ignored them and counted the money. He scowled and turned around. “I’ve got spare clothes in the back,” he said. “For just this kind of occasion.” He closed the door behind himself. The last thing Rob heard him say was, “Don’t nobody go in there. You don’t wanna see that.”
That was fine with Rob. This fantasy had worked out even better than he had hoped. He licked his own mess off the floor, then masturbated a few more times before drifting off to sleep. He sighed as he heard the strippers leave for the night. He curled up with Knuckle’s nasty clothes — which had been dirty even before they were covered in piss and sweat and cum on the floor of the champagne room. Rob sucked on Knuckle’s musky boxers like a security blanket.
He was going to take those boxers home with him. They ought to last him, he thought, until his next bout of alpha male action.

The Plumber

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

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

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