smoking cigarettes – Mansploitation

The Bouncer

Rob is eager to service the bouncer at the biker bar, and he just might have his chance! He hangs out in the alley by the dumpster where the legendary bouncer Banner drops off the scumbags he kicks out of the Clever Pipe, and when Rob makes him an offer too good to pass out, Banner is all too happy to treat Rob exactly the way he wants it!

Can Rob handle the punishment he’s begging for?!

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Read the whole thing here!

Rob Winthrop headed down the alley behind the club. He smoked a cigarette to make it look like he was waiting for someone to leave out the back. Every few minutes some drunkard did leave out the back, but Rob ignored everyone. He wasn’t here for any of them.
He was here for the bouncer out front.
He had a plan to get him too, but he needed to wait for him to come into the alley. The bouncer was named Banner. He was square-jawed and rugged, with a dense network of scars on his fingers. He said that was from getting angry and punching his fist through glass windows on several occasions. He was a bouncer at the Clever Pipe, a tough bar on the outskirts of town.
Finally the back door flew open, and a drunk man was shoved out of it. Banner followed him, pushing him every few feet and barking out challenges and questions. “Get out. Come at me, brah. Come at me then. You wanna fight? You wanna show off fo’ ya girl? Here’s ya chance, come at me. Lemme see it.” Banner had a handsome face with a noble jaw and a crooked nose, with a flatness to his voice like he had a phonograph in his throat. Even when he spat invective at the drunk man he was kicking out, he didn’t really sound like he meant it. He sounded like a bad actor reading his lines for the first time. He had thick boots like a factory worker. Already tonight a few drops of blood blotted the black leather of his boots. Rob didn’t know if it was Banner’s, the drunk man’s or someone else’s.
Banner pushed the drunk man until he tottered in a garbagey puddle near the dumpster. Then he cackled and kicked the man in the side. The man yelped and squirmed. He tried to crawl away.
A drunk girl came out the back, sloshing through the doorway like a spilled cosmo. She tried to push Banner into the wall — which was ridiculous, because Banner was like a mountain compared to her drunk, wavering twig of a body — but he just moved out of the way. She smacked into the brick wall then stumbled to her boyfriend.
“You fucking pussy!” she said. She sounded so drunk she was about to pass out.
“You’re a slut!” the drunk man bellowed from the ground.
Banner watched with a sneer. The two drunkards argued there in the garbage. Banner lit a cigarette. He flexed his biceps, which were visible beneath the white wifebeater he wore — it looked like it had been brand new at the start of his shift, but now had sweat stains around the shoulders, spilled beer soaked into it and a few drops of dried blood over his heart..
He saw Rob there and nodded. Banner licked his teeth. “I’s the bouncer.” He paused like he was waiting for an order.
Rob came forward. “It’s a dirty job but somebody’s gotta do it.”
The drunk couple headed out of the alley, staggering forward as they shouted at each other. Banner took a deep drag on his cigarette. “You waitin’ for somebody?”
Rob nodded. “But I don’t think they’re coming. They might have gone home with somebody else.”
Banner nodded. Rob made sure to accentuate his feminine side to put Banner at ease. Banner bristled and wrinkled his nose. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re Banner, right? I’m Rob.” They had actually “met”, or at least interacted briefly, last weekend; but Banner didn’t remember that.
Banner grunted and threw his eyebrows back. He wasn’t used to being polite to bargoers. Being a bouncer at a club like this was one of the few professions where being mean to the customers was expected. Banner was not graded on customer service, which was good because most everyone found him chilling. He put a damper on the club every time he worked. He had that grim-eyed stare that made the waitresses trade shifts to get away from him.
But the owner, Math, liked that he kicked ass. Banner never lost a fight. At a bar like the Clever Pipe, that was a frequently useful skill, and it was more important than the comfort of the waitresses.
“I’ll give you fifty bucks to take your shirt off and put me in a headlock,” Rob said. As soon as he said it, he squealed and blushed. He handed Banner the money before Banner even responded.
He took the fifty dollar bill. He stared at it, then sighed and chuckled. He took off his wifebeater. He grimaced at the sight of Rob’s leering eyes. His pecs flexed — not in a deliberate, seductive way, but like he was imagining punching Rob and his muscles were dreaming about it.
But then he put Rob in a headlock. He wrapped his right arm around Rob’s neck, holding him tightly. Rob was squashed between his arm and his chest. His other arm pulled Rob’s body close to Banner’s, whose bare muscles writhed like a barrel of snakes against Rob’s skin.
Sweat dripped onto Rob’s lips and coated his face. The scent of Banner’s unwashed machismo was alluring, and Rob groaned. He smelled cheap deodorant too, but it had already been overpowered by Banner’s sweaty night in the overcrowded nightclub.
“Do you ever make guys jack you off?”
“What?”
“I’ve heard some bouncers sometimes take drunk guys they kick out, and y’know… make ‘em jack them off,” Rob said.
“No.”
“Would you? I mean, if I paid you?” Rob struggled to speak through the headlock. He planted his lips on Banner’s rock-hard bicep and kissed loudly.
Banner groaned and looked away. He gamely kept Rob in the headlock, though he could have dropped him. He blushed. “What, man? You wanna pay me to make some dude jack me off?”
“No, me. I want to pay you to make me jerk you off.”
“No way. I don’t-“
“A thousand dollars.”
A long, empty silence filled the alley. Banner held his cigarette in his hand. He narrowed his eyebrows to slits.
“You gonna pay me a grand to jack me off?”
“No. I’m gonna pay you a grand for you to make me jack you off,” Rob said. He writhed in the headlock, and rubbed his ass against Banner’s crotch. “I’ll pay you another grand to cornhole me in the ass.”
“Nope. No way. I don’t do that.” Banner said. He sighed. He pushed Rob away from him. His serious face screwed up like he was sucking on a lemon. “I won’t do that. No way.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “Three grand. Three grand, man. No. Nevermind. I can’t.”
“Oh-“
“Okay, yeah. Three grand. I can do it. Thirty five hundred. I’ll do it for thirty five hundred,” he said. He sighed and leaned over the railing. His big plump ass stood up. It was cradled by tight basketball shorts beneath his scruffy jeans. The top of his asscrack was just barely visible. Sweat collected there. “No, I mean… Yeah. I can do it. Four grand. I want four grand.”
“I better get started before the price keeps going up,” Rob said. He dropped to his knees and in one smooth motion planted his tongue in that spot of asscrack visible above Banner’s sagging jeans.
“Ah shit, man,” Banner squirmed. He looked behind himself at Rob licking his asscrack. “You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout licking my ass. You ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout that.”
“If I’m paying four grand, I’m lickin’ your ass. Don’t get cheap now,” Rob said. “I promise I won’t put anything in there, not even a finger. Okay, my tongue. I’ll put my tongue in there.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. He turned back around and grabbed Rob by the chin. “Boy… if you even think about putting a finger in my ass, I will kill you. You understand me? I will not try to hide the evidence. I will go to prison with my head held high, bitch. You dig me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.”
“Okay, uh, Banner.”
He snorted and laughed nervously. He paused and smoked his cigarette. He blew smoke into Rob’s face. Rob coughed.
“You imaginin’ ya finger in my ass?”
“No, Banner. I promise. I swear. I don’t do that,” Rob said.
“Ya dick?”
“No. I only ever bottom,” Rob said. His heart skipped a beat. Like most bouncers, Banner was very good at intimidating people. He stared Rob down, then spat on his face. “I just want to suck your asshole, that’s all.”
“Fuckin’ freak.”
Banner undid the belt of his jeans and pulled down his shorts to reveal a pale, trembling pair of beautifully plump asscheeks. There was a big nasty twisted scar on one cheek. He only pulled down his pants on his backside, taking care to make sure he didn’t bare his cock and balls.
Rob separated those cheeks and inhaled deeply of the scent. The sound of him sniffing made Banner chuckle, his whole body shaking. Rob leaned his head in and slipped his tongue into Banner’s tight hole.
“What’s this scar?” Rob asked as he kissed all up and down the crack of Banner’s ass.
“I got shot,” Banner said. His voice was pinched, as though it hurt to have his asshole licked. He squirmed and groaned. His hole clenched around Rob’s tongue.
Rob tickled the gunshot-wound scar on his ass. One of his hands roamed between Banner’s legs, massaging the taint there. He suckled loudly and moistly on Banner’s asshole. He slurped out all the stank, salty sweat he could get to.
“Who shot you?”
“This guy. There was a disagreement,” Banner said. ‘Bout who owned this girl.”
Rob giggled into Banner’s ass. “I hope you were on the side of ‘nobody owned her’.”
Banner bristled and bit his lip. He didn’t answer at first. Then he murmured, “I ain’t a rapist or a pimp or nothin’.”
“Uh-huh-“
“Ah, damn!” Banner laughed. “I gots an idea.” He clapped his hands and fished his phone out of his pants pocket. That turned out to be difficult to do in this position, so he wordlessly pushed Rob onto the cold, moist ground on his back. Banner lowered his ass, squatting over Rob’s face. That was perfect for Rob, because it forcibly separated Banner’s cheeks, giving him perfect access to his hole. It was easier for Banner to get into his own pants pocket this way.
Rob flickered his tongue all the way in to Banner’s hole, far enough in that Banner shuddered and groaned. He nearly dropped his cell phone as he dialed. Finally he got it to ring and held it to his ear.
“Yo, nigga. Guess what? Remember that thing you said only niggas can ever talk someone into? I got this bitch lickin’ at my hole right now-” Banner paused and groaned. “Nigga nigga nigga, I say it when I want, man. I ain’t even have to talk this bitch into it. Uh-huh. Got that tongue all up in my guts right now, cleanin’ me out, uh-huh. Gonna rub it like a dog now.” He moved his ass back and forth, squeezing over Rob’s tongue. “Yeah, it’s real nasty.” He paused. “Alright, yeah. I meet you tomorrow at noon. Get up early then, and don’t try and pass off schwag, I will kick yo’ ass again. Bullshit. I beat yo’ ass like a cop behind bars, nigga. I destroyed you. I’m just sayin’ it to piss you off now. That’s my right. That’s my First Amendment right as an American.” He paused and grunted. “Hell yeah. But I am takin’ her ass, man — no! No! You can’t call it like that, that ain’t fair. I fuck her in the ass. Yeah, you take the pussy. If our balls touch, I will punch you. If our balls touch, it will be yo’ fault, I guarantee that.” He squirmed atop Rob’s tongue. “God damn, man, you ain’t say ya tongue gonna feel like that. Okay, nigga. Nigga please. Nigga you don’t even- Uh-huh, my nigga. You my nigga, dawg. I swear-” He put the phone down. He snorted. “Hung up. Fuckin’ asshole.” He stood up and grabbed Rob by the neck. “You ready to swallow some dick, deadbeat?”
“Yeah,” Rob said. The only sound he could make right now was a weak squeak.
Banner spat on his face. He laughed and clapped his hands. “Alright, goddamn. This is kinda fun.” He pushed Rob onto his knees. He had a massive cock, already half-hard and throbbing in his hands. He pried Rob’s mouth apart and fed it in. He shuddered, then smiled. “My dad was a bouncer — I only met him a few times in person, he been in jail since I was little — and he always say this is what it used to be like. Police used to be on ya side, you know? If some deadbeat raised a fuckin’ stink, you could raise a fuckin’ stink on his face, dig?” He sighed as he slammed his dick all the way into Rob’s throat.
Rob struggled to accept it all. He gagged violently. His hands tightened into claws that grabbed at Banner’s plump asscheeks, which were still wet from Rob’s licking.
“Man… My dad used to come home late, and he’d drink with my uncle Tony — he lived wit’ us then — and he’d tell Tony about the shit he did to the boys who raised too much hell in his bar. I ain’t understand half of what he said,” Banner said. “Like usin’ a bum as an ashtray.” He made sure Rob’s eyes were open wide, then ground his cigarette out on Rob’s forehead.
The scorching pain on his flesh made Rob squirm. His mouth struggled to avoid biting down, but he didn’t have any leverage anyway, so he probably couldn’t have bit if he wanted to. All he could do was hock up a ball of saliva that dripped down Banner’s shaft.
“Alright, deadbeat,” Banner said. He sounded absent-minded, like he was acting out something he recalled his father saying. “Now here comes the big finale. I’m gonna turn your ass into my woman, a woman I don’t think much of. It’s gonna hurt, and you gonna cry, but eventually it’ll be over. Then you be a flappy-butted loser.” He bent Rob over the railing near the landing by the back door to the club.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Banner had his cock in Rob’s ass — he just jammed it in as though the more he thought about it, the more he might be unable to perform. He sighed once the first inch or so was in. Rob squealed and gasped.
“That hurt? It should. You want something to bite on?” Banner said. He put his corded-muscle forearm in front of Rob’s mouth. “You can bite my arm, bitch. I won’t be mad.”
Rob didn’t want to bite, though the pressure in his ass was intense. He kissed. He sucked on the firm muscle of Banner’s forearm, nibbling a bit only when the sensations in his ass became too incredible to avoid.
“Say ‘I’m a bitch’.”
“I’m a bitch!”
“Say it louder. Be proud of ya bitchitude. Bitch.”
“I’m a bitch! I’m such a bitch! I’m Banner’s bitch! I’ll do anything he wants!” Rob screamed into the darkened alley.
“Ha, now I get it, I know why my dad was-” Banner chuckled dryly, interrupted when his cell phone rang. “That’s prolly that nigga again, tellin’ me he run out of weed or some shit. I swear to God- Oh, nevermind, it’s my boss. Shush.” He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Rob’s ass.
There was a long silence. It took all of Rob’s concentration to avoid crying out. Banner stopped moving, but he stopped with his entire cock throbbing in Rob’s ass.
“Yes, sir. Uh-huh. Uh, yeah, Math, I’m just, uh, takin’ care of- Right. Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a moment.” He hung up the phone and barked. He punched Rob in the back, then roared and backed away. Blessed relief flooded Rob as his ass was emptied. “I swear to Christ, I will rip this bitch’s throat out.” He pulled his pants up. “You hear me? I will kill- Sorry ‘bout punching you, man. I ain’t mean to hurtcha.”
“No worries, I’m not hurt-“
“I will lay down some law like a lawyer, boy. You best believe it,” he said. He went back into the club, still shirtless, his cock and his ass moist. His dick was still as hard as iron, and if the club weren’t so dark, the bulge in his jeans would have been obvious.
Rob pulled his pants up, just in case more people came out the back. He kept the door open too, watching. But the club was crowded and dark and smoky and loud, and Rob got only a vague impression of what was happening in there.
A glass-shattering crash. Gasps. What the fuck?! A crack. More gasping. Some laughter. Angry words spat out too quietly to hear. A moist sound that Rob couldn’t identify. You still feelin’ grabby, my man? A shriek of terror. Shut the fuck up! You gonna walk out like a man or you gonna get yaself thrown out like a bitch?
Then Rob saw a blurry mix of limbs and muscle come his way. He stepped away from the door just in time to see Banner dragging a thrashing man out into the alley. The man was drunk, crying, red-faced, blood streaming from his nostrils.
The man staggered to his feet in the puddle of dumpster water he landed in. “Fuck you!” he screamed. He drunkenly, slowly put his fists up. “Come at me, bro. Come at me. Try me, huh?”
Banner laughed. “Don’t make me. I would come over there and kick ya ass, bro. I would do it. But you happened to interrupt me when I was punishin’ the last deadbeat who raised up a fuss and I don’t wanna stop.”
“Come at me!” The drunk man kept repeating that, staggering around the alley. He didn’t seem to notice at first when Banner dropped his jeans again.
Banner’s cock was not totally hard anymore, but he had only lost a bit of his erection. He rammed it into Rob’s ass and sighed as though he was scratching an itch he had been unable to reach for a long time. He slipped his entire cock in, and Rob squealed — he had to make it very loud to get the drunk’s attention.
The drunk stepped closer like he didn’t understand what he was seeing. He screwed up his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “You’re cornholin’ that man’.”
“You earnin’ yo’ identifyin’-nasty-shit merit badge, man?” Banner said. “Cuz you got it. You earned that.”
There was a long pause. “That’s nasty.”
“Go home, fuckwit! Ain’t you figure this out yet? When I’m done cornholin’ this deadbeat, I’m gonna come over there and cornhole you, ya dig? I’m gonna cornhole you till yo’ eyes bleed. I’m gonna cornhole you even though my dick gonna be limp cuz I just cornhole him, I’ll just shove it in ya ass anyway and watch porn on my phone till I get hard again. So you had better run the fuck away befo’ I finish.”
The drunk man covered his mouth like he had to suppress a shout. Then he turned tail and fled. He ran down the alley, swaying from side to side so badly he bumped into the wall and knocked over a trash can.
One of Banner’s hands grabbed Rob’s hair, holding his head in place. He groaned and moaned. Rob stroked himself off.
But first, before he reached orgasm, Rob pulled out his own cell phone. He handed it to Banner and said, “Here. Will you call my dad?”
“Call yo’ daddy?”
“Yeah. Tell him you’re cornholin’ me. I want to humiliate him. He doesn’t like the idea of me being dirty at all, and he would hate it if he knew I let a bouncer in me. No offense,” Rob said. “I’ll give you an extra hundred bucks. His name is Eugene.”
Banner grabbed the phone and muttered. “Fine.” He snorted and cleared his throat as it rang. “Yo. Hey. You, uh, Eugene? That’s right, I got ya boy’s cell phone. He can’t talk right now, on ‘ccount of he’s bein’ bitched out. Uh-huh. I’s a bouncer at the Clever Pipe, that’s that discount burlesque club, ya boy is here right now jackin’ dudes off for a quarter — yeah, he just drainin’ they balls so they ain’t gotta spend as much on lapdances. If you ever been to the Clever Pipe, you know they got some nasty-ass females. But only scumbags ever come here, so it works out for them. Anyway, I was callin’ you to give you an update on ya boy and see if you wanna buy this car I got — it ain’t stolen, I swear, but I do gotta get rid of it tonight and it’s got Massachusetts tags you should prolly take off right away. You can pay in money or in meth. Uh-huh. Sorry, I’s havin’ trouble hearin’ ya over the sound of ya boy swallowin’ nutsacks. You teach him to do that? You teach him good.” He stopped and shrugged. “He hung up. Ya daddy sound like a judge. He a judge?”
“No.”
“Good. Cuz I might have kick ya ass for real if yo’ daddy was a judge. He sound like the fuckhead who put my brother away,” Banner said. “Now hush up, I’m gonna cum.” He put his cell phone on Rob’s back, and the tinny sound of hetero porn filled the air.
Once he got it started, however, Banner didn’t seem to spend much focus looking at the screen. He closed his eyes and moaned, tweaking his own nipples. He groaned in disgust when Rob orgasmed and sprayed his wad over the alley ground, but he didn’t say anything.
“Aw, fuck, aw fuck, aw fuck…” Banner grunted. He pushed on Rob’s head and gripped his ass tightly in position.
A wash of hot cum spurted into Rob, followed by a long torrent of semen. It was thick and creamy, and it seeped into his flesh. Banner stopped moving while he came. He closed his eyes tightly as though watching a horror movie. His cock spasmed and the cum flowed until it was dripping out of Rob’s ass and onto the trashy ground beneath him.
“God damn, bitch. God damn,” Banner said. He smacked Rob’s ass without removing his cock, chuckling when that made Rob yelp and squirm. Banner swayed his hips and twitched his dick, causing a bubbly frothy load of cum to slip out. It coated Rob’s ass and dripped in clumps onto the ground.
“Wow, thanks-“
“Pay me, bitch,” Banner said with a growl like a jaguar. It sent a chill up Rob’s spine. “You best not cheat me. And clean my cock off wit’ yo’ clothes.”
“Yes, Banner,” Rob said. He used his shirt to wipe off Banner’s cock, then brought out his own smartphone. They used the app that Rob’s father had invented — PayUp — to transfer four thousand, one hundred and fifty dollars into Banner’s account. Rob didn’t tell Banner that it was his father’s app. Rob knew better than to spread that kind of personal info around.
Banner put his sweaty wifebeater back on. “Alright, you done.”
Rob didn’t respond right away. He was all cleaned up and dressed, ready to go, but he wanted to watch Banner’s muscle-bound body for as long as possible. Banner stayed there at the door, scowling at him.
“Okay, man, you get away,” Banner said. He spat on the ground. “Or I will kick yo’ ass for real.”
When Banner formed a fist with one hand and reared back ready to strike, Rob turned tail and fled into the night.

The John

Avery is at it again, and this time he has his eyes set on a jive-talking black man from the ‘hood who would rather bang a ho… But when Avery dangles a couple dollars in front of his face, Wink is ready to give him a swing on that alpha male meat!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“There you is, Wink, I see you comin’ my way! Why dontcha break me off a piece of that sugar?”
That was it, that was him.
Avery stepped out from behind the dumpster and stopped in front of Wink. He was a tall black man, muscular but not large, firm and tight-bodied beneath an ill-fitting suit. It wasn’t colorful enough or nice enough to be a pimp suit — it was faded and frayed, loose threads and old stains abounding. A few holes had been darned inexpertly.
Andre “Wink” Winkle came down here to Canal Street, behind Brentwood Projects, every weekend. He always paid for a blowjob from one of the hookers. He always asked for anal, but he never had the money for it. He begged them to let him in the back-door for free, even promising that he’d lick their pussy when he was done.
Avery thought Wink was willing to try a different route to that backdoor.
“I’m comin’ fo’ you, girl!” Wink said to the prostitutes. He walked slowly, with a barely perceptible limp.
“Hey,” Avery said. He startled Wink, who glared at him. “You wanna make some money? I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to do to me whatever you were gonna do to her. You can ram me six ways to Sunday.”
Wink had been bopping his head to an unheard beat as he came down the alley. He kept bouncing on his feet, even as his eyes bugged out. Then finally he stopped and chuckled.
“Yo,” he said, hsi voice flat and simple. “What?”
Avery repeated himself. He blushed. This was always the awkward part, and he was suddenly a lot less confident that Wink would say yes. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars. All you gotta do is ram me.”
“Yo, I, uh, I don’t mess ‘round on the downlow, sho’ don’t, sho’ don’t.”
“This wouldn’t be on the downlow, this would be here in public.”
“That ain’t a sellin’ point, man,” he said with a snarl. He pushed Avery out of the way. “Go’n, boi, get outta here b’fore I swipe yo’ head off. I ain’t no boytoy, no way, no way.” He had barely even stopped walking for a moment before continuing on, doing his little rap to that same beat he had been tapping as he came in. He shook his head and headed towards the girls.
“C’mon, baby, you look tasty tonight! You wear that suit like a stud!”
“You get all dressed up like that for me, sweetie? Ain’t you the handsomest?!”
Avery was disappointed. He was usually a good read on men. Wink had seemed like he’d do it for some money, but the way he phrased that and the way he moved on right away made it seem like he would not do it for any amount of money.
“Yo, sweetheart, you lookin’ fine in that dress. Whatcha think ‘bout-” Wink stopped talking and turned around. He jogged back to Avery and smiled, showing off deep dimples. “Yo, I forgot, I do it. Two hundred and some pee.” Then, he gasped, “I mean, in a cup, man. Pee in a cup. Not, you know… Pee in a cup. I need it tomorruh for a pee test. Need it bad, fo’ real, this nigga need it bad.”
Avery was taken aback. “Oh. You forgot? You forgot you do swing downlow?”
“I just… I ‘membered this little chore I got, yo, it’s real impo’tant and it ain’t not a bit of yo’ business ‘t all,” he said. He snorted. “But yeah, I gots a plan fo’ that money, hell yeah, hell yeah. And that’ll be the first time I evuh got clean pee for my PO.” He peered at Avery. “You smoke weed?” He screwed up his eyebrows,
“No. Well, yes, but I haven’t smoked in months,” Avery said.
He nodded. “Okay, good.” He produced a specimen cup — an actual one, from a lab — and handed it over.
Avery went behind the dumpster to pee. “You carry this around with you?”
“I was goin’ somewhere wit’ it, yo,” he said with a snooty snarl. He came up behind Avery by the dumpster. He swiped the cup from him as soon as Avery had replaced the lid. He didn’t seem to care that a few drops of pee got on the sleeve of his ratty old suit. “Get on yo’ knees. You ain’t a girl, so don’t even think I’mma seduce you or call you ‘sweetheart’ or kiss you. I don’t nevuh did stick no male man, no way. Nope, nope.”
“No problem,” Avery said as he dropped to his knees.
The nearby hos could still be heard. “Where’d Wink go? He was just here.”
“I saw him.”
Wink chuckled dryly. He had a nice, raspy throat that made Avery hard. Avery undid the fly of his nattered suitpants. He pulled out a juicy, fat cock. Since Wink was lean-limbed and not especially large, his cock looked even bigger, extending almost all the way to his knees and as plump in diameter as his forearm.
“Just put the tip in yo’ mouth, boy,” Wink said. Then he clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Yo, I don’t like sayin’ that. I’mma call you girl. Okay, girl? Huh? Huh?”
“Uh-huh,” Avery spoke around the cock throbbing in his throat. It was limp still, but it was gathering steam. He could feel it twitching and twinkling as Wink got used to the situation.
“Alright, yo, girl, alright, put the tip in yo’ mouth.” He paused and pulled out a cigarette. He patted his pants pockets. “Damn, girl, you got a lighter?”
Avery shook his head. He put the tip of Wink’s dick in his mouth and suckled loudly, moistly. He got a taste of clean cock — it was clear Wink had showered right beforehand. He must have wanted to be at his cleanest for the prostitute he planned on hiring.
Wink snorted. A trashy-looking white redneck walked past the dumpster, heading towards the girls. He didn’t notice Wink throating Avery down in the shadows. “Yo, hey, man,” Wink called out to him. “You got a light, man?”
The redneck nodded. He fished a lighter out and gave it to Wink, who lit his cigarette and took a deep drag. The redneck realized then that Wink was getting dome from a man, and he backed away. “Uh, keep the lighter,” he said. He turned around and darted towards the prostitutes.
Wink cackled. “Whiteboys don’t know nothin’ ‘bout this kinda shit. They squeamish as all hell, yo.” He took another drag. “Free lighter, alright, alright, alright.” He sighed. “Now get yo’ tongue out a bit, girl. Move it around some.”
Avery did what he said. He kept sucking on the tip and licking the shaft at the same time, his tongue flickering out to tease every inch of his manhood. Wink leaned against the brick wall facing the dumpster. He closed his eyes and groaned.
“Yo, lick right here, baby,” he said. He pointed to a spot, and when Avery licked that enthusiastically, Wink groaned again. He smiled. “Yeah, you pretty good. I’m gonna keep tellin’ you how to do it, girl. Hope that’s okay. I’m sure you got ‘xperience, but I like it done in just the right way. Lick here now, girl, get that tongue out… Yeah… Yeah…” He spoke in a low, slow-melting voice.
“Hmmm, c’m’ere big boy…!”
“Want a date, sugah?”
“Is that you, Wink? I see you there. Whatchoo doin’ behind the dumpsters? Ain’t you gonna come see me?”
Wink laughed and covered his face. He poked his head out from behind the dumpster. “Hey, sweetheart! I might take a break this week.” He snorted and smiled. “Wait! Nah! You come on ovuh here, Bethlyn! I got somethin’ for yo’! It’s gonna be real special!” His voice was smooth and kind, but then he glared down at Avery and spoke more brusquely. “Alright, you can deep-throat me now, girl.”
Avery was excited to show his capabilities. He slammed his face all the way down on Wink’s dick, until his nose mashed into the fabric of his slacks. His wiry pubic hair scratched at Avery’s lips, and his balls swayed against his chin.
“Okay, nice, alright then, alright, alright,” Wink said, bristling, shifting his weight between his feet like he hadn’t expected Avery’s mouth to feel so good. He smiled as Bethlyn approached. She was a big black girl with a wide ass. She wore a bright green dress that showed off her assets. She smiled at Wink, then frowned when she saw that his dick was in a man’s mouth.
“Hello,” she said. She glared at Avery and barked out, “What’s this? You stealin’ my customers? My daddy Slim Jay ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout that.”
Avery grinned, but he didn’t pull off Wink’s cock, which throbbed in his throat. Wink gasped like he was shocked that Avery could deepthroat him all the way to the root.
“Don’t be salty, baby,” Wink said. He leaned over and kissed Bethlyn on the cheek. “He payin’ me, I’m just savin’ some money. You still my one and only. Maybe I can pay you fo’ some anal action next week, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” She put her hands on her hips. “You leavin’ me high and dry.”
“I don’t want you dry, no way, no way. Lemme give you ten,” he said. He pulled out a ten dollar bill. “I finger yo’ real good, baby, baby doll.” He smiled and held up two fingers like he was negotiating. “I put two fingers in yo’ pussy and one in the ass. You like that? Huh? Or you want two in the ass and one in yo’ pussy?”
She took the ten dollar bill. She frowned down at Avery. “You best hurry up, man. If my daddy come by and you still here, he gonna kick at least three asses. Ten dollahs ain’t enough to make him happy.”
Wink kissed her on the lips. His tongue plunged into her mouth. His head was turned to the side to reach her face, while his crotch pushed forward to give Avery perfect access to his cock.
As always, when Avery got into the swing of his latest piece of street trade, he felt a real sense of intimacy with his man. He always thought the best way to get to know a man was to get him off. All of his inner feelings and dreams were palpable when you had him at his most vulnerable, allowing a man to swing on his meat.
And Andre Wink was no exception. Avery swallowed his cock to the root as Wink kissed the prostitute and fingered her pussy and ass. She submited boredly, but Wink acted like she was just as passionate as he was.
Wink wore this suit to impress her. Avery had been going back and forth whether he wore it for her or because he just thought he looked good or maybe he was going to go club-hopping later, maybe he just wanted to get his rocks off before hitting on pretty girls so he wouldn’t be too horny. Or maybe he just always wore a suit, or he was hoping to become a pimp one day. There were a million reasons he might be wearing the cheap, ill-fitting burgundy suit.
But the more he swallowed, the more Avery knew the answer — Wink wanted to look his best for Bethlyn, or whichever prostitute looked prettiest to him when he got here. He felt like a trashy loser when he dressed in his ordinary t-shirt and jeans to get a blowjob from a whore, so he wore his only suit instead. He talked like he was seducing her, like she was his girlfriend, like he really loved her, because he wished he was the kind of man who felt that way about a girl.
Now that Wink was knuckle-deep in the plump prostitute, his dick throbbed and jerked around within Avery’s throat. It spewed precum in copious quantities. Avery sucked down every drop.
“I love you, baby, I love you so much, yo, yo,” Wink murmured to her. He tried to drag Avery’s head off his cock, but Avery resisted. Wink grunted. “Am I the only nigga you want?”
“Baby, you really are,” she said with a canned moan. She kissed him back on the neck.
He chuckled. “Damn, I like this. Only cost me ten bucks, and I’s gettin’ paid by the sissy. I’s makin’ a profit tonight, damn-howdy!”
The prostitute took a step back. She shook her head. “Nah. My daddy gonna be very mad ‘bout that, Wink.”
“What?” He had a big smile on his face like a mischievous little boy who had just gotten in trouble.
“Only his girls is allowed to work this alley,” she said. “He go’n cut you. Or just demand all the money the sissy is paying you. Or both.”
Wink chuckled. “Baby, don’t tell him, okay? You still gettin’ paid-“
“He’s my daddy, I gotta tell him! He get salty if I don’t.”
“If you don’t tell him, he won’t know nothin’, baby, baby,” Wink said. He slipped a second finger into her pussy and groaned. She kissed him on the neck. Wink groaned. “Tell him the sissy ain’t pay. Tell him I let him jerk me off as a freebie.”
“He won’t like that much either, nigga,” she said.
Wink sighed. “Then tell him to fuck off, I don’t care. Quit talkin’ ‘bout yo’ pimp.” He looked down at Avery, whose head bobbed up and down on his dick. “You can stop, whiteboy. I got a female now.”
Bethlyn started rubbing his chest through his shirt and talking about how much she wanted a taste of his cock. Wink just smiled and fingered her pussy. He brought his fingers up to his nose to sniff them. Precum flowed into Avery’s mouth now, as Wink’s cock hit the back of his throat again and again. Avery’s nose was buried in Wink’s pubic hair and the burgundy fabric of his suit. Wink kept half-heartedly trying to get Avery to stop — Wink had cash now, so he could buy whatever he wanted from Bethlyn. Avery wasn’t about to stop until he got his money’s worth.
“Suck on ‘em, baby, lemme see it,” Wink said. He tried to put his fingers in her mouth, but she kept her lips closed.
“Another ten bucks, sweetheart,” she said softly.
“You charge money to suck on my finger? It just got yo’ pussyjuice on it, baby? I love you-” His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth.
“I love you too, Wink, but I gotta pay my daddy,” she said. “Ten bucks, and I’ll suck on any finger you put in front of my mouth.”
He chuckled and handed over another ten dollar bill. He shook his head and bit his lip. He put his fingers back in her pussy, then removed his other finger, the one that had been in her ass.
“Hmm,” she moaned like she had been waiting for that. She swallowed his callused finger, making him shudder and lean back again.
Avery stopped throating his cock. Wink watched his finger slide in and out of her mouth like he was hypnotized, like he hadn’t even noticed Avery wasn’t on his cock anymore. Though nobody touched it, Wink’s dick still throbbed and dripped on the grimy ground. Avery pulled his pants down and bared his ass.
Without a word from Wink, Avery backed up. He squeezed Wink’s cock into his asshole. Wink just kept sticking his fingers in the prostitute’s holes; he switched his fingers around like it was a game, smilingly sickly as she sucked her pussy and ass juices off his finger.
Finally he looked down to see his cock slide into Avery’s ass. He wrinkled his nose a bit, then went back to kissing the prostitute. His whole body trembled beneath the suit.
“Yo, baby, I love ass,” he said. “Love it!” He said it to her even though the only person whose ass he was in was Avery. His hands roamed over her tits and tweaked her nipples through her green dress. “Can I suck on yo’ titties, baby, baby doll? I love you so much. I’mma be wit’ you forevuh.”
“Uh-huh,” she crooned. “Twenty bucks.”
“Twenty bucks to suck on yo’ titties?!”
She smiled. “If you gimme another twenty bucks, I’ll have made fifty bucks off yo’. That’s enough I can give my daddy, he ain’t gotta be mad,” she said.
“Alrighty, then, alrighty, but only cuz I love yo’ and I don’t want him beatin’ on you, baby. That ain’t a good value, twenty bucks fo’ some titties, nah,” he said with a laugh. But he paid the twenty dollars anyway, and he dove for her chest. He lowered her dress to bare the tits and began licking. He groaned. His cock spasmed in Avery’s ass.
Avery savored the exquisite feeling of Wink’s meat throbbing inside him. He moaned. He had to grip the side of the dumpster for support. It took all of his coordination to keep moving his ass back and forth on Wink’s cock, because Wink didn’t move his hips at all. Avery was responsible for the entirety of the action. Wink ignored Avery, kissing and pawing over the prostitute instead.
Wink had never told anyone, but Avery was not the first man he stuck up behind. When Wink was in prison for two years, he had a thin, delicate man as a cellmate. Initially, Wink had beaten him up and taken his fruit cup in the mess hall. He arrived at prison wanting to show off and make a name for himself, and he was glad to have a small, weak cellmate he could pound on.
But over the next nineteen months, Wink went him hating his weakling cellmate to feeling sorry for him to being grateful for his attention to enjoying his presence to even giving an enthusiastic reacharound after a few gulps of toilet wine (when there was a sheet up over the cell bars so no one knew Wink had touched another man’s cock). When Wink was released, he had sworn to himself he was going to make changes in his life, and one of those changes was that he was going to keep visiting his former cellmate. He liked to feel wanted. He had sworn on his good name that he’d keep coming back.
But once he was free, and he saw girls all over the place, and he got some good-natured ribbing about what he might have done with other males in prison, Wink wasn’t comfortable with it. In his cell, he could put up a sheet for privacy. If he went to prison as a visitor, he couldn’t hide anything.
So in the end, he had never once visited the man he spent all those passionate nights with. He regretted it often, but Wink never looked him up again. He counted down the days to the man’s scheduled release date, and then he counted up the days since he had been released.
When he rammed Avery there in the alley, that was what he thought about, even as he fingered Bethlyn. He kissed her while imagining he was kissing a man who didn’t need to be paid to care for him.
“Kiss me, baby,” he moaned. He grabbed her body and held her close. He kissed her tight on the lips, his tongue exploring her mouth. He was short and she was taller than him, but she was much thicker, so he looked even smaller in comparison, like she could have swallowed him up whole if she wanted.
His cock spasmed as he groaned into her mouth. His muscles tensed beneath the suit, which was now plastered to his chest with sweat. His balls drew up in his sac, and for the first time since this had begun, he gripped Avery’s bare asscheeks. He loudly orgasmed, gasping and heaving in the shadowy alley.
Wink held Avery in place and swayed his hips from side to side, humping every inch of his insides. Cum sprayed over his prostate, triggering Avery’s own orgasm at last. He sprayed his wad onto the garbagey alley ground, while Wink’s load coated his body.
Wink kept on ramming, sucking on the prostitute’s tongue and tweaking her nipples with both hands. His cock rammed in and out of Avery’s cum-dripping ass. The more he rammed, the more of a mess he made — Wink had developed this game with his cellmate, making his load frothy, spilling out, bubbling forth in a big drippy wad that made him gag and laugh.
“Damn, boy, you take it — I mean, damn, girl, you got real nasty there, that was nice,” Wink said. He whistled. He pointed to the messy ass. “You see that, Bethlyn? Lookit that. That is some nasty anal. That is right. That’s how you do it That’s how you do it!.”
“I do that, sugah,” Bethlyn said like she was offended at the insinuation that she didn’t know how. “You know my price. You know I don’t give no discounts on anal, not no how.”
He smiled. He kissed Bethlyn on the lips. “Yo’ daddy lettin’ you go out sometime, baby? I take you out to dinner-“
“No, sugah, that ain’t allowed,” she said. She pulled her dress back up over her tits.
He shrugged like he was expecting that answer, which he was: he asked her that every time she sucked him off. She said no every time he hired her, which was most weeks — basically unless she was with a different john when he arrived. He didn’t like waiting for her because it gave him plenty of time to wonder what kind of guy she was with, and then she’d inevitably taste like another man when he did get to kiss her. He knew that she was with a lot of men regardless, it was just easier to forget that when he didn’t have to wait for her to be finished with them.
“Hey, girl,” he said to Avery as he smacked Avery’s asscheeks. “Will you suck my nut out yo’ asshole? I want that. That’s hot, man. I love that. Ain’t no kinda girls ever do that. I never seen a female do that, and it turns me on so much-” He paused, then lied as he realized he had sort of admitted he did this with a man before “I mean, some girls do it, some do. That’s how I know how hot it is. But a lot of ‘em won’t do it, nuh-uh.” The only person he had ever seen suck cum out of his own ass was his cellmate, but Wink wasn’t about to admit that.
“Okay, yeah,” Avery said.
Wink smiled. He let go of the prostitute and slowly withdrew his limp dick. He gagged at the sight of juices dripping from it. He laughed so loud it echoed against the walls of the dumpster. “Ugh, this is so nasty, girl, I love it. I’m gonna love you too if you do this. I swear to God, I will marry you any day if you promise to do ass-to-mouth. So fuckin’ nasty. Nasty. Nasty. Nasty. I love it.”
He stroked his cock with one hand. It was so sensitive he yelped and his body undulated beneath the suit. He loosened the tie with his other hand. He rammed two fingers into Avery’s ass. He gagged again, laughing nervously at his own reaction. He clawed inside Avery’s body, causing a torrent of pain and exquisite post-orgasmic pleasure. He pulled his fingers out and watched with wide-eyed amazement as Avery sucked them clean.
His fingers and hand were soaked in cum and assjuice. Avery loved it. If he had thought Wink would ever agree to finger his asshole, he would have asked — he would have paid more if he knew it was an option, so he was glad Wink had initiated it for free instead. Wink’s fingers were callused and scarred, and they tasted like stale sweat beneath the assjuice and cum. When he had finished with Wink’s hand, Avery slurped on his sensitive shaft, sucking down all the fluids and grime and caked-on sweat sticking to it. Wink shuddered as a burst of ecstasy wracked his body, and Bethlyn walked on with a sick look on her face.
“That was so disgusting, girl, I love it,” he said to Avery. “I swear to God, I will marry you, baby.” He paused. “I ain’t serious, I know you ain’t no girl. I won’t marry you. No how, no way.”
“I know,” Avery said. He pulled his own pants up. He felt grimy and dirty, but he loved that feeling. He watched Wink tuck away his own cock and zip his slacks back up.
Daddy’s here, where’s my money, babies?!
A black man in a fine blue suit — this one was perfectly tailored, vibrantly colored and clean as a whistle — Slim Jay — walked into the alley. He bellowed, and the prostitutes at the other end of the alley all spoke at once. There was a chorus of feminine voices.
The pimp didn’t notice Bethlyn there, so she stepped out from behind him. She smiled and giggled to get his attention.
“Oh, hello, baby, whatchoo doin’ back there?” He saw Wink. “G’evenin’, Wink. You got yo’ usual?”
Wink laughed. “Not the usual, exactly. But I got what I need, nigga, no pro’lem.” He walked away, dapping his head as he walked, dancing to an unheard beat just like he was when he entered the alley.
Avery hid there in the shadows for a moment, while the prostitute handed her money over and explained what had happened. When her pimp glowered like the money she had earned was not enough, Avery wondered if he was going to get in trouble after all.
So he fled into the night. He was thin and quick, and the pimp didn’t know he was there, so he just darted right past him and ran out of the alley, still tasting remnents of his own ass and Wink’s cock. He didn’t wash all night, so he could keep savoring the flavor.
He had no idea that Wink did something similar — he didn’t wash his dick off either, even though it was dirty. He went to bed stinking of a small, effeminate man, hoping to dream of that cellmate whose tender touch he still craved.

The Raunchy Construction Worker

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

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

The Hobo

Carlos goes to a legendary homeless encampment in order to swing in the dirt with a filthy hobo named Tommy. He’s filthy, he’s drunk and he’s willing to let Carlos service his nasty homeless body.

Can Carlos get the raunchy manmeat he craves?

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Read the whole thing here!

Father Carlos brought food to the hobo encampment called Ditchway, out by the interstate in Jackson, Mississippi, but he didn’t wear his collar. The hardscrabble men who swamped the area from the hardware store parking lot to the highway tolerated him because he brought food, but it didn’t stop them from demanding other things. Mainly malt liquor, sometimes just plain cash. They lived in tents and cardboard boxes, strewn with radios and clothes hung up to dry like in a prison cell. Interspersed here and there were overturned shopping carts, municipal trash cans and legions of scavenged buckets, barrels and crates of all kinds.
But since he didn’t bring any alcohol or give them any cash, most of them left pretty soon after the meal. They headed off to panhandle during the evening rush hour. That left Carlos with Tommy Weathers, one of those poor benighted souls who live here. He was sober for now, but Tommy fully intended for that to be a temporary condition
Tommy was a broad shouldered white man with skin tanned brown as a Mexican, or a Texan at least. He was dirty, like all the rest, with greasy hair and smudges of filth all over his skin. He wasn’t exactly skinny, but he was lean, ropy-muscled and long-limbed, with a square jaw and deep-set, dark green eyes. He spoke with the accent of his native South Carolina, with a Low Country drawl that Carlos found alluring.
“I’s homeless on ‘ccount of my lying bitch of an ex-wife. Glenda Shay, that’s what she go by now. Got remarried, to an ‘ccountant who talks like a fuckin’ college professor. Glenda Shay. You know that bitch?”
“Uh… no.”
“If’n you evuh meet her, suh, you run far away,” he said. He ate the last of his hot dog and licked the ketchup off his fingertips. That’s what Carlos had brought him. He paid for it with his own money, not church funds. “I love ketchup. I put it on e’rything at the soup kitchen. I even put some in dat minestrone-” he pronounced it minnuhstrahn, as he licked ketchup out of his unkempt gray-tinged beard — “did that in lockup, yessuh. Pissed off this one off’cer so bad he swipe my head off. Said ya can’t put ketchup in soup. I lodge a complaint, suh, cuz I gots mah pride, even in lockup, yessuh, and I gots rights. I ain’t no Commie, ‘fter all. Ronald Reagan won, y’know. Dat guard gots an offishul reprimand, sho’ nuff, yessuh. I gots a right to put ketchup in dat minestrone.”
“Uh-huh. Ketchup in your minestrone, huh? I’ve never tried that. I think they put tomato paste in the broth anyway-“
“Mah mama always done say I eat so much ketchup mah head gonna turn into a tomatah, yessuh, she was a real saint, y’know. She always stand by me even when I get in trouble, yessuh.”
“Uh-huh-“
“But she pass on couple years back. I reckon it was for the best, she had dat livuh cancer, on ‘ccount of her drinkin’ like a Texan, y’know,” he said.
“Right.”
“Lordy, if she knew I was livin’ in the hobo camp with dem colored boys and a Chinaman, she would be rollin’ ovuh in dat grave,” he said.
“Sure, sure.” Carlos would have reprimanded him about his language if he was here in an official capacity. That’s why Carlos had come all the way to the far side of Jackson, Mississippi. He didn’t want to meet anyone he knew as a priest. Carlos was not here in a priestly capacity, and he didn’t have to correct the man. “So, uh, you don’t have a girlfriend or anythin’?”
“Girlfriend? What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout? Hobos don’t got girlfriends. There’s a female I know, she suck my dick sometime. She a whore though. She suck me off for free. She say I’m cute,” he said, beaming, showing off his gap-toothed grin. “But she ain’t been ‘round much no mo’. She got a pimp, say she can’t be givin’ out no freebies. He a black man, ya see. They don’t like dat. I ain’t prejudice. Just speakin’ the God’s honest truth.”
“Uh-huh.” Carlos cleared his throat. “You wanna bust a nut?”
“‘Course. You got a female?”
“I’ll give you five hundred bucks if you treat me like one. Treat me like a filthy whore,” Carlos said. His heart skipped a beat as Tommy looked him up and down.
He burped and frowned. “Five hun’red bucks is a lotta money,” he said. “You got beer?”
“No. You gotta do it before you start drinking,” Carlos said.
He nodded. “Fine. If you stiff me, I’s gonna rip yo’ goddamn head off.”
“Yes, sir,” Carlos said. His heart skipped a beat. He got on his knees in front of Tommy, who sat on the dirt in the woody copse of trees by the highway. Just twenty yards to the east was the onramp, and maybe fifty yards to the north was the highway itself. Cars whizzed by. The foliage was dense along the road though, with forsythia bushes in full bloom providing dense cover and rendering this piece of wilderness cut off from the outside world. A couple dozen tents and sleeping bags were scattered around, and the remains of two campfires. Empty bottles of liquor and abandoned crackpipes lay scattered like headstones after a tornado.
Tommy burped up a rancid smell, then apologized. Carlos ignored it. He undid Tommy’s belt and made him lift his ass up so Tommy could lower his pants. His fat cock flopped out of his tattered prison-issue boxer shorts.
“Hang on just a moment, suh, I gotta beg fo’ forgiveness fo’ mah everbegottened lusts,” Tommy said. He moved his dick out of the way at the last moment as Carlos tried to take it in his mouth. Tommy closed his eyes and looked up at the sky. He clasped his hands together and murmured a prayer. Carlos didn’t hear the words, he just sat quietly watching Tommy’s greasy dick sway between his legs. His mouth watered like a hungry dog.
It felt good that nobody knew he was a priest. He didn’t have be in charge, didn’t have to report anything to the archbishop, didn’t have to be the voice of moral clarity. He could just be. He didn’t pray. Carlo kneeled before Tommy’s cock, which dangled and sway as he prayed in a rumbling murmur that Carlos didn’t hear.
Then at last Tommy finished praying. He smiled down at Carlos and flopped his dick between his fingers. Then he thwacked it over Carlos’s face.
“God say it’s alright, cuz I gots a need, man,” Tommy said. “I got real pain, and I gotta do what I gotta do. He do want me to get a promise from you though.”
“Oh, what?”
“Go to church,” he said.
“Oh…”
“Just go one time,” he said. “God will forgive you your trespasses, suh. He always do.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go,” Carlos said. His heart quickened, because he felt like he was getting away with something not mentioning that he was a priest. Normally it was all anybody could see him as. They only ever spoke to him as a priest, even in a casual setting. This was the first time in a long time he’d spoke to someone who didn’t know.
“Alright. If He can forgive me, suh, He can forgive you, fo’ sho’,” he said. “You get a man off good? Wit’cha mouth? Huh?”
“Real good,” Carlos said. He licked his lips and opened his mouth as wide as possible. He wiggled his tongue right in front of Tommy’s cock.
Tommy smiled. He pushed his dick in, its limp, long shaft filling Carlos’s mouth with raunchy, sweaty flesh. It tasted like soil: dry, dusty, infertile dirt, but with a thick, greasy texture that Carlos loved. He felt a shiver of desire run through him. His heart raced as fast as the cars flying by just past the trees and forsythias that lined the hobo camp.
He opened his throat and let that deliciously nasty cock slide down it. Sometimes jerking off hobos was a double-edged sword — all that nastiness and filthy Carlos craved made them unhealthy, cocks unable to get hard (especially if they smoked crack). But Tommy was not a crackhead, and his dick popped right into full erection in Carlos’s mouth. It tasted stale but warm and savory, yeasty like good bread or bad beer. He sniffed deeply of it like a sacraent.
“Ooh, boy, you handle my dick nice, damn, that feels good,” Tommy said with a hoot. He pulled out a ziploc baggie filled with cigarette butts he had scavenged from a public ashtray. He lit one that still had a good half-inch of unsmoked cigarette. He took a deep breath and exhaled it right into Carlos’s face.
The acrid smoke brought tears to his eyes, as did lack of oxygen as he kept guzzling down cockmeat. Carlos pushed his head down until his nose nuzzled Tommy’s unkempt pubic bush. Tommy gasped like he was surprised, and a shiver of pleasure visibly shook his spine. Tommy licked his teeth.
“Damn, boy, you swallow like a sissy in prison, hell yeah,” Tommy said. He groaned as he took a deep breath. Then he grabbed Carlos’s ears and pulled his head off his cock. “Hey. Can I throat down ya face, boy? You okay wit’ dat?”
“Yes, please do,” Carlos said through his gasps for air.
“You nasty,” he said. He dropped the cigarette butt, smoked down to the filter, on the muddy ground. Then he stood up. He gave his dick one stroke and then grabbed Carlos by the ear again. “Open up.”
He fed his dick down Carlos’s throat inch by inch. When he got almost the whole thing down there, Carlos instinctively choked and sputtered. Tommy gripped his ears tighter and shook his head, causing a torrent of more choking.
“Nah, open up, you payin’ fo’ it, now take it,” Tommy said through his thin lips. He closed his eyes and groaned, his hips gyrating as he slammed his dick in.
At last that entire shaft throbbed in Tommy’s throat. Precum flowed like water from a hose, coating his entire gullet. It had a thick texture and a savory flavor that made Tommy crave more.
Tommy grumbled. “Don’t get the wrong impression ‘bout me, suh. I ain’t ram no sissy in prison, no sir. That’s just an ‘xpression I learned, and I ain’t nevuh ramrod no one in prison neither. God don’t like ugly. So that’s what I, uh… My time behind bars was a time of spirit’al reflection, suh, and I used that time to get closuh to God hisself. God is, uh, there… in, uh… God is in a’rrything, you know. In the soul of the…” He blinked and twitched as another surge of pleasure visibly wafted through the taut musculature. He must have forgot the point he had been failing to make. “Prison food was real bad, suh, you don’t even know.”
He kept talking about God and his time in prison, but he continued to lose track of his thoughts as well. He seemed to almost forget that his dick was in Carlos’s throat until there was a tiny bit of give, and Carlos almost backed off. Then he growled, grabbed Carlos’s ears again and held on tight as he moved his hips in circles, hitting every corner of Carlos’s throat.
“Reckon there was a lot of sissies in lockup, yessuh, you prolly know some of ‘em. Like a Julius. You know Julius…? I dunno his last name. Got big soft lips. I rammed him one time cuz he ast me to,” Tommy said.
He didn’t give Carlos time to actually answer whether or not he knew Julius. Carlos was more focused on working that greasy dickshaft to full tumescence. It was now moist with clumps of spit and precum. The dusty hobo camp ground beneath Tommy’s feet was turning wet with all the fluids that dripped from Carlos’s mouth.
“Keep yer mouth open, boy,” Tommy said. He pulled away and used his fingers to keep Carlos’s mouth open even as Carlos heaved and writhed, grabbing for air. “Gonna give you a prison-kiss. This is how the Mexicans show they love in lockup, man,” he said. He pursed his lips like he was going to kiss, but then just filled his own mouth with saliva and spat into Carlos’s open gullet. His spit tasted like dirt and made Carlos moan with desire. Tommy spat again, then again, this time making sure it landed right on Carlos’s nose, a hot stinking puddle of alpha male redneck nastiness stinking up his nostrils.
Carlos inhaled deeply of it, his mind swimming from lack of oxygen and intense arousal. Tommy didn’t wait long before pushing his dick back in again.
“We call dat throat lube, suh, yes we do,” Tommy said. He cackled and resumed drilling Carlos’s throat. “Get yo’ head down on the ground then, suh, if’n ya please. Get real low in the dirt.”
Carlos laid on his back on the ground. Tommy mounted his head, aiming his dick down so he could just lower himself as well. He was virtually laying down now, with his cock aimed down Carlos’s throat.
And then he began humping. He gyrated his hips like he was fucking an actual pussy, while Carlos’s spit-slickened throat allowed him to get his entire dick down there once more. Tommy’s nasty, sweat-dripping balls landed on Carlos’s nose, so Carlos was overwhelmed by a torrent of raunch covering every part of his face. All he could see was the filth and the hair of Tommy’s balls, taint and asscheeks.
Eventually Tommy pulled off. He looked disappointed in himself. “You want me to get you up the ass too, right?”
“Yeah…” Carlos was too starved for oxygen to say anything else. He gasped. “Can I… Can I lick your ass first?”
Tommy stopped moving and his smile turned into a frown. He furrowed his brow like he was trying to understand Carlos. “You wanna lick hobo ass?”
“God yes, please…” Carlos felt like crying. He was on his knees, so his head lined up with Tommy’s ass anyway. He stuck his nose in the air and sniffed the raunchy ass scent. It was almost enough to make him cum.
“Fine. But just for a minute or two, that’s nasty,” Tommy said with pursed lips, like he was seriously annoyed with Carlos for asking.
Carlos tried to separate Tommy’s cheeks, but Tommy just unceremoniously sat. He didn’t even lower himself slowly, he let Carlos stick his face in Tommy’s hairy ass and then sat down. He squatted like he was about to do a high jump, and most of his weight was on Carlos’s face.
Carlos had no idea how long the rimjob lasted. He was so overwhelmed by the suddenness of it and by the weight of Tommy’s body on his face that he was dizzy from the moment it began. Unfiltered masculine scents assaulted his nostrils. It smelled like dirty underwear or like a crowd of men, like an entire worksite’s worth of men all sitting on his face at once.
His tongue pushed past the layer of thick hair in Tommy’s asscrack. He groaned and moaned, and he even began rubbing his own dick through his jeans — a lot of men were annoyed by the sight of men masturbating, so Carlos kept it low-key. It didn’t look like Tommy really noticed anyway.
“You one nasty freak,” Tommy said with a laugh that shook his entire wiry frame. His ropy thigh muscles trembled, asscheeks flexing around Carlos’s tongue as though he was trying to hold onto it. His voice wavered as he spoke, when a surge of pleasure wracked his body from his prostate to his neck.
Carlos gurgled, letting a big mouthful of spit fill Tommy’s ass before it overflowed back onto Carlos’s face. Carlos groaned. His hands roamed over Tommy’s dick, the veiny shaft spasming beneath his fingers.
Tommy groaned like he was surprised at how good this felt. He murmured incomprehensibly to himself, and he rubbed his ass all over Carlos’s tongue. He moved it up and down, penetrating himself in his asshole with Carlos’s muscular tongue, which grew to be coated with Tommy’s masculine funk. His ass was taut and firm as iron, cuz he ate so little, but it was also strong, cords of firm muscles etched into his tight frame.
“Damn, you one nasty-ass boi,” Tommy said with a cackle. He stood up and pushed Carlos to roll over. “Lemme get in dat ass. Open up. I say open up. Get yer head down in the muck. That’s where God wants ya till you get forgiveness.”
He pushed Carlos’s face into the mud and aimed his dick right for Carlos’s ass. He groaned when it slid in and a bolt of pain erupted in Carlos’s body. As he always did it, he gritted his teeth as he struggled to bear it.
But at last the pain melted away into a tense, uncontrollable pleasure that spread through his body like a convulsion. Tommy was relentless, completely ignoring Carlos’s struggle and his body’s instinctive resistance.
“You want it, suh? Huh? You really like this?”
“Yes, please, god, stick it in me…” Carlos said with a moan, choking on a mouth full of mud and cigarette butts.
“Don’t you dare ask God fo’ dat, suh, I can still walk ‘way. Ain’t gonna tol’rate ya disrespectin’ God,” he said. He stopped moving with his dick deep in Carlos’s ass, hand holding onto Carlos’s hair. Tommy frowned down at Carlos. “Ain’t no man’s dick worth ya eternal soul, young man-“
“Okay, yes, I’m sorry. I won’t use the Lord’s name in… whatever. Please just get back to it me, Tommy, go at me as hard as you can,” Carlos said breathlessly.
“I will,” Tommy said. He sniffled. He laid his wiry chest on Carlos’s back and pounded away. He groaned and grunted right into Carlos’s ear, and he cackled with laughter again as he rubbed muddy dirt into Carlos’s face. “You like it dirty, right? Ain’t you say dat? Take some dirt then, suh. Open up.”
He shoved clumps of dirt into Carlos’s mouth, making him gag and sputter as he tried to jack himself off. Carlos couldn’t reach his own crotch though. All he could do was submit to Tommy’s frenzied pounding, his drilling away at Carlos’s asshole.
“Ew, what the fuck-?”
“Aw damn, that is some nasty shit right there.”
“I knew he weren’t just comin’ up in he’e to give up some food. I tol’ you dat.”
“You said he was gonna try ‘nd fuck Lisa wit’out payin’.”
A foursome of hobos had appeared in the woods, having returned from panhandling. They all groaned like they were disgusted by Carlos getting it up the ass from Tommy, but no one turned around or even faced a different direction. They seemed both disgusted and excited by it.
“Aw fuck, go ‘way, guys, I’m… busy, alright?” Tommy blushed, but he didn’t stop. “Hey where mah money at?” he asked Carlos. He didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed Carlos’s wallet out of his pants, then pulled out the five hundred dollars in it, as well as the spare fifty bucks that Carlos kept hidden. He swiped the three crackpipes sitting in the dirt. Then he gave one of the other hobos some money, all without missing a beat or slowing down his deep-dicking. “Go get us whiskey. I got all yo’ crackpipes so don’t you dare blow it all on crack. You can buy one rock wit’ dat, bring it back and share it. The whiskey is just for me, but we celebrate this filthy bitch wit’ some crack.” He smacked Carlos’s ass. “Ya got it?”
Yo, gimme some mo’ of dat money-
“Nah, I’s the one gettin’ paid,” Tommy said. “It’s my money. I’s puttin’ my eternal soul at risk by doin’ the nasty wit’ a male. Go on then, get some whiskey and crack and I gonna keep us in clover for a week wit’ this cash. Maybe longer if’n I wreck this man’s ass so good he keep comin’ back for more.”
The hobos grumbled, but took the money and walked away. Tommy scoffed and spat at them. “Fuckin’ pieces of shit, man, I swear. They ain’t God-fearin’ like me,” he said. He looked at Carlos then like this was the first time he had really seen him. He peered into his eyes. “You really enjoyin’ yerself, ain’t ya?”
“Yeah…” Carlos gasped. He managed to finish himself off then, blowing a massive load of cum into the dirt. His whole body tensed as waves of bliss spread through. His fingers and toes tighteneed, and Carlos gasped. He shot a bigger load than he had ever seen.
“Reckon I don’t ‘pprove. When I was growin’ up, a man’d only take it up behind as a punishment, like in boot camp. That’s how my pa raised me — he was a drill sergeant: strict but fair,” Tommy said. “Now this part is gonna hurt, suh. Here, you can bite on my arm.” He placed his smudged forearm in front of Carlos’s mouth.
Carlos knew he could take it, but he nibbled on the worn flesh there, feeling the toned muscles underneath the skin. Tommy sped up his rhythm, groaning and grunting with each flex of his hips.
The pain did grow worse, and Carlos bit down hard enough that he tasted a single drop of coppery blood. Tommy didn’t seem to notice; he just slammed his hips, ramming his dick all the way in as he nutted. His balls crawled up in his sac. A shudder of pain or desire or disgust ran up Tommy’s body.
A load of rancid hobo cum filled Carlos’s ass, a big arcing jet of juices that seeped into his flesh. It was hot and thick, sticky, clinging to every inch of Carlos’s body. Carlos groaned.
It was the most intense orgasm of Carlos’s life, while Tommy reacted as though it was a painful climax. He grunted and snorted, sniffling like an angry bull. He spat over and over onto the back of Carlos’s neck, while grinding his cock so deeply in Carlos’s ass that Carlos couldn’t help but bite down hard on Tommy’s forearm.
Carlos finally stopped squirming. He sighed, totally spent, his gaping ass now in utter submission to Tommy’s rapidly limpening manhood.
“Alright, suh, I’s done,” Tommy said. “Reckon I cornholed you good, right? You ain’t feel cheated, right? You got yer money’s worth?”
“Yeah…” Carlos was too overwhelmed by sensations in his asshole to really respond. He moaned.
“Good. I ain’t wanna cheat ya.” He pulled out and sighed. He stroked his slimy dick, using a hand to get all of those nasty fluids off. He wiped it onto Carlos’s bare ass. He wrinkled his nose. He sat back in the dirt, his spent dick and low-hanging balls dragging in the mud between his legs. He frowned. “I gotta take a piss. You into piss?”
“Uh, no thanks,” Carlos said. He was exhausted, and he was worried about those other hobos now that they knew he could afford to pay Tommy five hundred dollars. Who knew what they might do when they came back with alcohol and crack?
So Carlos just hurried up and got dressed. His body was covered in mud and redneck sweat, not to mention cum still dripping down his ass. Tommy ignored him as he pissed into the rancid dirt of the Ditchway homeless encampment. He looked like he was getting antsy waiting for his whiskey and crack.
“Wait, suh,” Tommy said before Carlos left. “Lemme do one more thing, so anyone who smell you know you’s my bitch.” He pried Carlos’s jaw open, then spat a stinking load of saliva into Carlos’s mouth. “Don’t you go payin’ some other hobo for dick. You come back to me, suh. Ya hear? You mine now.”
“Okay. Yes, sir, I promise,” Carlos said as he walked away, his mouth gurgling over the fetid wad of saliva on his tongue. Despite that, he had no plans on coming back. If he did, sooner or later someone would identify him, and Carlos didn’t want that.
Next time, he’d hafta find a different source of raunchy alpha male men who don’t know him. Luckily, there was a whole world of rough trade out there, and Carlos was eager to get started.

The Pickup Truck

When Avery has car trouble, he hitches a ride with a pair of rednecks with a pickup truck. They’re eager to get a nut off, a problem Avery is eager to help with, cuz Avery loves nothing more than submitting to alpha male hillbilly manhood.

Can Avery get his truck fixed and satisfy his newfound redneck buddies?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery sighed as his car rattled to a stop on the side of the road. He had just gotten the starter replaced, and now something else was wrong with it. He cursed and kicked at the car when he got out. He opened the hood as though there was some chance he could fix it.
But he didn’t know anything about cars. Unless there was a sign in the hood describing what was wrong and how to fix it, he wouldn’t have known what to do. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign. Even if there was a sign, he’d probably need help.
The engine looked normal. It was hot and dirty and greasy, and it looked just like it always did. He checked the oil because that was one of the few things he knew how to do. The oil level was fine. Well, I successfully ruled out oil, he thought, at least that’s something.
He sighed and started walking. There was no point in hanging out here, in the middle of nowhere, Bumfuck, West Virginia. He could have called AAA, but his cell phone only had a little charge left. He turned it off in case he needed it later. He knew there was a garage up the road, so he thought it would end up being quicker to walk there and arrange a repair job.
As he crested the next hill, he muttered about his car. His Kia was notoriously crappy, he had learned after owning it for a few months. This was only the latest in a series of setbacks for the car. He should have done more research before he picked it out, he thought. That must be why it was so cheap.
He was startled out of his reverie by the sight of a man on the side of the road up ahead. He was a hundred feet or so away from where Avery was overtop the hill, and he faced backwards with a thumb out. When he saw Avery, he waved.
“Howdy, brotha!” he called out.
Avery waved back. The man was shirtless, a lean and lanky redneck in a red backwards baseball cap and muddy camo pants. He was a hillbilly, Avery thought and shivered as a frisson of desire ran up his spine. Avery appreciated the male form, and this ropy-muscled young man was an ideal example.
“Howdy, friend,” said the young man when Avery got closer. He accentuated the word friend as though he called everyone his friend but really meant it this time. He had a charming, dimpled smile.
Avery giggled and said hello. “Nice to meet you,” Avery said.
The man had a Confederate flag belt buckle, and tattoos dotted his bare torso. “You hitchin’?” the man asked. He spat on the ground.
Avery shook his head. “My car broke down right over the hill. I was just going to the garage down the street.”
“Old Ray’s? That place shut down. Ol’ Ray was a fat fuck anyway. He dead now,” said the hillbilly. “Name’s Cody.”
“Nice to meetcha, Cody,” Avery said. “I’m Avery.”
He nodded. “Mah buddy is on his way to come get me. He’ll give you a ride too, reckon.”
“Thanks.”
“Gonna have to ride in the back though. In the bed of his pickup, I mean. Ain’t got room in the cab for three.”
“Okay,” Avery said.
“There he is now. His name Buck,” said Cody. His tongue rolled around in his mouth as though it was too big for him, as he sized Avery up, looking him from head to toe.
They had only gone a little ways when a beat-up red truck came from behind and pulled to a stop on the side of the road.
A beefier hillbilly stuck his head out the window. He was tall enough that he was squashed into the truck cab, and he had a furiously untamed mullet that framed his oversized head. “Need a ride, li’l hoss? You know the rule: cash, grass or ass,” Buck called out and hooted out a series of baritone laughs.
Then he saw Avery, and his eyes turned dark and hostile.
“Hey this man here had a breakdown up the road. He goin’ to Old Ray’s,” Cody said.
“Old Ray dead.”
“I told him that,” Cody said.
“Hop in, li’l hoss,” said Buck. “You got that Kia on the road a f’ur piece back?” He had a grizzled chin, with a lazy look on his face. He was much thicker than Cody and hairier. He also made Avery feel a flush of hormones and a stiffening in his cock, and Avery wondered if he could nab both of these hunky rednecks.
“Yeah, that was me,” Avery said as he got in the back. “The car just died on me.”
“Kias’ll do that. Buy ‘merican next time.”
There were blankets and pads all over the back of the rickety old pickup truck. It looked like Buck had recently helped someone move. The truck pulled away, and Avery crawled to the passenger side, where he could hear through and speak into the little window that opened into the truck cab. Cody’s arm was out the window, its reddish hue ruddening in the brilliant Alabama sun. Avery’s heart pounded as he gathered up the courage to make a proposition.
“Hey, so are you down?” Avery asked, raising his voice so Cody could hear in the truck cab. The wind was loud enough — not to mention the rackety engine — that Avery didn’t think Buck would hear. That was necessary because Cody was gonna offer to jerk him off, and he assumed Cody would want to go somewhere private, not let his buddy know that Cody was messing around on the downlow.
Cody hesitated. “Yeah. Down for what? You got pills?”
“No! I’ll jerk you off, that’s all. If you-“
“You take it in the ass too?”
“Hell yeah,” Avery said. “If you got somewhere private to go.”
Cody told his buddy to stop, then said something quiet enough that Avery didn’t hear. Buck laughed a deep belly laugh. His voice boomed audibly out the driver’s side window. “That boy?”
The truck shivered to a stop
Avery shivered in anticipation. Now that he heard that laugh, he was sure Buck would join in, he thought, if he could get him out from behind the wheel. But before he came up with a plan, Cody hopped into the bed of the truck.
“Ain’t never rammed no feller,” Cody said. He smiled, then blushed as the truck pulled into gear and returned to the road. He almost fell over — Buck laughed again as though he had been trying to knock Cody off-balance — then sat down next to Avery.
As soon as the truck lurched back into motion on the road again, Avery grabbed for Cody’s dick through his camo pants and stroked it. They had turned onto a rural road, so there were no cars around, but even if one came by, this truck had a very low bed with a high wall, so there was plenty of room to avoid being seen. Once Avery’s head was in Cody’s lap, only Cody’s head could be seen from outside the truck.
“Oh fuck, you that kind of freak? Daaaang…” Cody whistled. He played himself off as nonchalant, but Avery could tell he was more nervous than he let on.
Avery inhaled deeply of his musky scent, then pulled down Cody’s pants. His dick popped out of his tattered old boxers. It was long and thick, already getting hard just from Avery handling it through the fabric. Cody was young and horny, that was why, Avery thought, he must get hard so easy.
After just a few strokes, Avery lowered his head so he could swallow Cody’s cock all the way down to the root, nestling his nose deep in Cody’s pubic hair. Cody chuckled, then gasped as though he never thought it would feel this good. His eyes opened wide.
“He doin’ it furreal, yeah!” Cody yelled out to his buddy, Buck, who hooted and reached to the top of the truck, his meaty fist slamming down on the roof. He might have yelled something back, but Avery couldn’t hear it.
His dick zoomed to attention, and it throbbed in Avery’s mouth. It smelled of redneck sweat, which Avery loved, and he slurped down every drop he could get to. Cody tasted of dirt and distilled manhood, and the flavor made Avery want to cum as soon as he got a mouthful of Cody’s cock. He could taste the boisterous four-wheeling and the early morning hunting trips, wild ramps, barbecue sauce and chewing tobacco, he could even taste the unbridled patriotism.
“I love an enthusiastic mouth,” Cody said with a relaxed sigh. It sounded like he had been nervous about getting dome from a man but now was settling into it. He leaned back, resting his shoulders on the wall of the truck bed. “You better at this than most women even, you know that? You should teach lessons and-” Cody stopped talking as the truck taking a sharp turn caused him to slip all the way to the other edge of the truck bed. Avery had to crawl back over to him. The truck swerved all over the road, so Cody and Avery slid on the pads and blankets covering the bed. Cody’s cock bobbed around, and Avery chased after it.
That was fun at first, but it soon became apparent Buck was swerving the truck left and right as a prank — his baritone laughter could be heard emanating from the truck cab — and watching Cody’s naked body sliding around while Avery tried to get ahold of him.
“C’mon!” Avery called out, his voice wavering because he didn’t want to upset the giant redneck behind the wheel and because he was starting to get motion-sick from the motion.
Cody called out to his buddy, “Hey, quit swervin’, asshole!”
“Can’t you control yaself?” Buck shouted from the driver’s seat. He guffawed like a jackal.
Avery settled into the messy pickup bed the best he could with the truck sliding left and right beneath him. Underneath the pads and wadded up sheets was bright orange parkas and other gear — hunting equipment. He grabbed ahold of that stuff to keep under him, to avoid jostling too much as the truck barrelled and rattled down the road.
It didn’t seem that Buck was making any effort to keep the truck steady. He cackled with laughter every time Cody slid into the side of the truck and groaned. Buck opened the window between the cab and the bed, then he said, “Hey sissy! If you havin’ trouble findin’ it, just look for the pimple. Ain’t a pimple. Doctor says it’s a cock, just a li’l bitty withered one-“
“Shut up, Buck. Nobody gives a shit — we all know you got the biggest dick around. Nobody cares, it’s ugly, and girls don’t even like it cuz it’s too big. You got the ugliest dingdong in the world.”
“Shuddup, Cody, girls do so like my dick,” Buck said. He sounded chagrined though, like women really had said his dick was too big or too ugly or both.
That would not be a problem for Avery. He loved a big cock, and he had never seen an ugly one.
“Gonna fill you up, boy!” Cody cackled. He scooted over to block the window between the cab and the bed — that was also the center, the most stable part of the bed of the truck. He gripped Avery’s ears and held onto his head as he aimed his dick for Avery’s mouth.
Once again the wild flavor of stale hillbilly crotch-sweat filled Avery’s senses, and he swallowed as much as he could. Cody was even more into it this time, and he had no reluctance in holding Avery by the head so he could use his mouth like a pussy. He humped his dick down Avery’s throat, ignoring it each time Avery gagged.
He opened his gullet wide to let that entire cockshaft in. Avery loved how Cody visibly lost control of his muscles even though he hadn’t orgasmed yet, and his muscles rippled. Cody sucked in his breath. “Damn…” he murmured.
Precum began to flow from Cody’s cock, and Avery slurped it down like a delicacy. Cody’s whole body shook, both from the pickup truck moving beneath him and from the pleasure that exploded in his veins. His arms and legs went limp like a rag doll as Avery swallowed his dick down to the root.
“Who? That bitch?” Cody said. At first Avery thought he was talking to him and he looked up, confused, then realized Cody was talking to Buck through the window separating the cab and the bed of the truck. Avery couldn’t hear Buck’s part of the conversation. “Yeah, he’s hella better than her. She only sucked dick good in ya ‘magination, and she looked like an overinflated clown — she was not hot, you are so wrong, that was ya ‘fuckin’ oinkers’ phase — don’t gimme that ‘I need fat chicks for mah big dick shit’ — oh hell, you hafta bring up ya cock e’ery goddamn time — I don’t believe you fo’ a second about that, no women is that into big dicks — it is so ugly! It looks like a dead barbarian! — shut up, anyway, I’m gettin’ head. I don’t wanna talk to you.”
There was a commotion, and Avery looked up from Cody’s precum-oozing cocktip. Buck kept the truck rolling forward slowly, jerking every few seconds because Buck was riding the brake. He poked his burly, furry head through the window between the cab and the bed, guffawing so hard he slapped his knees as he plastered a sloppy kiss on Cody’s cheek. Cody screamed and pushed him away — he had closed his eyes, so he didn’t see until it was too late.
“You fuckin’ prick, you ruined my boner!” Cody said, trying to punch Buck through the window. He couldn’t quite reach though. Avery just kept swallowing his meat — in fact Buck’s kiss hadn’t weakened Cody’s erection in the slightest.
“Okay, ya mouth is nice, sissy, but I want some ass. A real man needs ass,” Cody said with a sigh. He pulled out of Avery’s mouth and wiped his dick off on Avery’s cheek. “Girls never wanna take it in the ass. But you do, right?”
“Hell yeah,” Avery said. He took a deep breath.
“You gonna take the whole thang?!” Cody asked, and Avery nodded as he gathered his breath. Cody arranged himself behind Avery — a difficult feat as the truck continued down the road. He pushed into Avery’s ass, his thick cock sending a twinge of pain up Avery’s back. He remained sitting, so Avery was in control, pushing back onto Cody’s crotch, as they got into something approaching a reverse-cowgirl position, or at least as close as they could come in a moving truck bed.
The truck pulled to a sudden stop, and Avery slid across the bed. He and Cody both bumped into the edge of the truck, this time with enough of a bang that Cody cried out in pain. The motion forced Cody’s whole cock all the way into Avery’s ass, more dick and more quickly than Avery was expecting. A howl of surprise and pain came from Avery’s mouth, and the sound quickly turned into a moan of pleasure as Cody’s cock stimulated his prostate.
Buck’s booming laugh echoed in the woods surrounding the road. He got out of the driver’s seat, then jumped into the bed — he was surprisingly limber for a big man. His damn near seven-foot-tall frame effortlessly hefted his bigness up into the truck bed. He stripped his shirt off as he moved, revealing a furry barrel chest and several tattoos: a broken heart with four drops of blood around it, a gray coiled snake on his belly, the Grateful Dead bears on his shoulder and an American flag on the side of his neck.
“Go drive for a minute, Cody,” Buck said. He frowned down at Avery’s ass, in which Cody had his cock sliding back and forth. “I ain’t know he was givin’ up the ass — all you said was dome. You best believe I’s takin’ mah turn, and it won’t be sloppy seconds from my little buddy.”
“Man-“
Since Avery was facing away, he didn’t see exactly what Buck did. But apparently it intimidated Cody enough that he gave in, and he pushed Avery off his cock. Cody hopped off the bed with his pants around his ankles, landing on the ground on his belly. He groaned in pain.
“Fuck you, Buck! He was mine! I’m the one who found him!”
“I’s bigguh,” Buck said with a shrug. He dropped his pants. He had a huge cock, as thick as a forearm, and his entire body was hairy. He was well more than a foot taller than his buddy and at least a hundred pounds heavier. He had a thick, crude face, like a caveman, like every part of his head was too big for all the other parts.
“Hi, I’m Avery-“
He didn’t even look Avery in the eye. He just grabbed him by the hair, pulled him into position for doggystyle and rammed his cock in. A burst of pain wracked Avery’s body, and he clawed at the truck bed. That pain quickly melted into an oozing pleasure, as Buck’s reawakened Avery’s sensitive prostate.
“Don’t talk,” Buck said in his gravelly baritone. “Reminds me you ain’t a chick.”
“Okay. I won’t,” Avery gasped.
“I said don’t talk,” he said. He worked his dick in deeper, holding Avery still with both hands when he squirmed in pain and tension. Avery desperately wanted to jack himself off, but he couldn’t reach his cock with his face jammed in the corner. Buck called out to his buddy, as he got in the driver’s seat. “Gonna ruin this hole for ya, lil bro.”
“Fuck you. Get down, man, someone’s gonna see you.”
Buck, it seemed, was not concerned with being seen. He stayed well atop the truck bed, so it was obvious what he was doing. Anybody going by would have seen that he could only be plowing his cock back and forth, so they’d assume he was fucking a woman, probably. This was a deserted country road though, and no cars passed by., Avery was still pretty low, so anyone driving by could see only Buck’s hairy bare ass dimpling and bouncing up and down.
“There’s only one way I know how to ram a man. Hope that’s what you is into. I only ram ‘em one way: hard and rough, just like I ram my prison bitch. You-“
“Ha! Don’t let him scare you!” Cody called out, as he was climbing into the driver’s seat. “He was in jail for two weeks. It was local county lockup. The only other person there was a ninety year old man.”
“Shut up, Cody!” Buck roared. He reached through the little window between the bed and the cab, and he tussled with Cody, who was navigating the truck back into motion on the road. When he got Cody’s nape in one hand, Cody squealed. The truck swerved, pushing Avery deeper into the corner of the truck. “That ain’t true anyway.”
Buck grabbed Avery by the hair with his other hand and pushed his head through that window between the cab and the bed. Avery moaned in ecstasy — he could finally reach his own dick, which was on the verge of ejaculating already — as his head appeared right next to Cody’s. He was so close he could smell the sweat of Cody’s unwashed armpit.
“Oh, man, get his face outta here…” Cody murmured, seemingly resigned to his buddy ignoring him. “I don’t wanna watch a man as you sodomize, Buck.”
“Yeah but fuck you,” Buck boomed. He banged on the top of the truck cab. “Hey, sissy, kiss him. He won’t hitcha or nothin’. Just kiss him. Use tongue.”
Avery placed his head in the crook of Cody’s neck. He kissed the best he could as he himself was orgasming, spraying cum all over the bed of the truck. Buck, it seemed, didn’t notice. A fat puddle of jizz spread over the bed, while Avery stuck his tongue out and slurped up the dried sweat on Cody’s skin. He tasted the dried salt crystals on the nape of Cody’s neck, as a wave of pleasure washed over him.
Cody swerved all over the road. It would have been terrifying but he was only going about five miles per hour, and there was no one else anywhere to be seen — they weren’t even on a paved road anymore, it was gravel. It was a two-lane road technically, but it was barely wide enough for the truck.
“Oh, man, get the sissy off me,” Cody said. He leaned over a bit but didn’t seriously stop Avery, who craned his neck to reach the corner of Cody’s mouth. He tried kiss Cody on the mouth, but when Cody both resisted and showed off the hardon that never went away, Avery lowered his head to swallow his meat once more instead.
Now that Avery wasn’t trying to stroke himself off, he could lean even farther through the window. He could easily get his upper half in, which was enough to put his head in Cody’s crotch. He tasted the familiar funk of Cody’s goopy erection, and Avery moaned around the shaft in his mouth.
Cody’s ass-stained cock was still half-hard. Avery picked it up and put it in his mouth before Cody even realized what was happening.
“Oh yeah, he doin’ that ass-to-mouth sheeit,” Cody said. “He swallowin’ up mah dick, sheeit!”
Buck banged on the roof again. His voice was so deep it sent a chill up Avery’s spine just as the truck went over a rough spot and jostled, which in turn caused a spasm of pain from Buck’s rod ramming into Avery’s ass. Buck laughed. “That hurt, man? Hit some more bumps there, bro.”
Cody pulled to a stop as he approached orgasm. His dick pulsated in Avery’s ass, and both rednecks moaned at once.
That was when Avery realized they were going to cum simultaneously. But he actually tasted Cody first, his youthfully spicy cum spraying into Avery’s mouth a half-second before Buck went off. Avery liked making a mess, so he didn’t swallow any of the jizz, he just held it in his mouth then let it dribble out to soak into Cody’s pubic hair and the torn upholstery of the seat. He wondered how many other nuts had been spewed in this truck.
Then a load of cum sprayed into Avery’s ass. Buck roared and pounded on the roof of the cab, then said, “Like this, bro?” He pulled his cock out at the last second and aimed into into the cab. He had to aim very precisely to get it through the window and onto his buddy’s face, and he didn’t succeed, most of it landing on Avery’s bare ass, the rest on the window frame.
Cody was gasping for air after his own orgasm so he didn’t notice right away. Then he screamed, “Oh what the fuck man?!”
“Just gettin’ you back, man, you pulled that sheeit last munf-” Buck said.
“You done got me back! You beat me up fo’ that!”
“Yeah, so? We were even, and now I’s ahead by one, which is right as sunshine, cuz I’m bigguh and stronguh and I got a bigguh cock,” Buck said. He whacked his softening meat against Avery’s asscheek.
Avery licked the cum off Cody’s cheek. Cody shuddered in disgust, then called out to Buck — who was still above the cab and couldn’t see in — “You missed me anyway. A couple drops got on my pants, that’s it.”
“Yeah right.”
“Fuck you anyway,” Buck said. He took his pants all the way off and sat on the edge of the truck bed. Avery pulled out of the window and kneeled next to him, so his head was between those trunk-like thighs. He licked the cum and assjuice off Buck’s massive dangling meat. Buck chuckled in disgust. He lit a cigarette.
“You’re a dickhead, Buck.”
“Shut up and drive home, Cody.”
“Home?”
“Yeah. I’ll get my tools. Least I can do is fix the man’s car,” Buck said. “And when I’m done, he’ll take some more cock.”

The Hustler

Rob stumbles across an alpha male biker in need of cash, a place to stay and a chance to get a nut off, which are all problems Rob is eager to help solve. That means Rob is in for a night of raunchy action, dominance and a mind-blowing orgasm.

Can Rob handle the firm hand of his new friend?

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob sat in his coffeeshop, looking at the novel he had just finished writing. He had finished it too recently to edit it now. It was tough to edit something right after you wrote it. But his deadline was tomorrow, so Rob was trying to gin up the energy to do it anyway.
He didn’t really have to meet the deadline. Most freelance writers were so flaky, he was seen as “on-time and ultra-efficient” if he was less than a week late. That would give Rob a few days to decompress, then look over the novel with a fresh pair of eyes.
He just didn’t want to have this Mafia romance hanging over his head any longer.
He idly googled the Mafia. There needed to be some fact specific to the Mafia that worked into the plot. Right now, it was just a story with criminals in it — that they were Mafia was mentioned in the prose, but not demonstrated through an action. They were just generic criminals so far. Rob needed to add a tidbit that directly related to some Mafia word like omertà or consigliere. But not as hokey or well-known as those, it needed to be something else.
A goombah was a man’s mistress. That could be something, Rob thought, but women might find it offensive, even if it was only a villainous kidnapper’s woman.
He kept scrolling through lists of Mafia slang. Most of them had the same twenty or so words.
Who’s that? Someone caught Rob’s gaze.
There was a man outside, hanging out near the motorcycle shop on the street. He caught Rob’s eye. He looked vaguely bikerish, but Rob didn’t get the impression he had any intention of going into the motorcycle shop next-door. He just milled about near the practice-lot for new motorcyclists and smoked a cigarette.
The man was medium-height but well-muscled, his broad shoulders showed off by a sleeveless shirt. He had a scruffy mustache and a scruffier beard, and dark eyes, with long black hair that was tangled and greasy.
He threw his cigarette on the ground. Then he curled his lip at a young black man walking by. They both nodded at each other as though they knew each other — there was hostility though, like they had fought once. When the black guy went past, the biker licked his teeth and watched him go. He exhaled a long plume of smoke.
As soon as he snubbed out his cigarette, the white man with the black hair lit another one. Was he waiting for someone? Rob sensed an opportunity for rough trade.
He paid for his coffee and put his laptop away before heading out to his car. He knew from personal experience that the best way to get a hustler off the street was with a car. That would signal that Rob had some money, and it would get the hustler somewhere more private.
He pulled to a stop in front of the bike shop. “Hey, man, what’s up?”
The hustler scowled and looked in the passenger side window. Cars streamed past Rob on the street. “What?” he barked into the window.
“Hey, how you doin’? You know cars? I could use someone who knows cars. My car’s making this noise, it’s sort of a thwump-thwump-“
“You lookin’ for a mechanic?”
“Bah, you know, they’re all crooks. They’ll cheat me, I know it. They always do. I usually just look around for someone who might know what they’re talking about. You’re into motorcycles, right? You must know about cars.” Rob gestured towards the motorcycle shop.
“You payin’?”
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll treat you right, I swear.”
The hustler shrugged and nodded. He got in the passenger seat. “Yeah. I know cars. I mean, sort of.”
“Cool, sweet.” Rob cleared his throat. “I’m Rob.”
“Glasser.”
“Cool, Glasser, sweet,” Rob said. “So-“
“What sound is ya car makin’? I don’t hear nothin’.”
“Oh, not this car,” Rob said. “It’s my other car, back at my place. I’ll take you there. Where do you live, Glasser?”
He shrugged. “Around.” He let out a shiver. Now that he was out of the cold air and the light drizzle, he found it more difficult to keep himself from shivering.
“You got a girlfriend?”
Glasser scoffed like that was absurd. “I got females I mess wit’.”
“Uh-huh. Sweet. Cool.” Rob smiled at him as he got on the highway. “So, uh… you horny?”
“Always.” Glasser crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window. That position accentuated his pecs, which pressed against his too small tee shirt. His biceps gleamed with either sweat or rain or both.
“You wanna… y’know… do somethin’ ‘bout that?” Rob asked. Glasser ignored him, just staring out the window. Rob gingerly touched Glasser’s left bicep. Glasser still ignored him. Rob squeezed his arm and caressed it, his fingers slipping under Glasser’s sleeveless shirt to his shoulder. That made Glasser’s muscles all twitch at once. With one hand still on the steering wheel, Rob massaged Glasser’s back with his other hand. “Can you take your dick out?”
Glasser sighed like that was a huge imposition. His mustache quivered. He unzipped his dirty camo pants and took his dick out — again, he looked back out the window, avoiding Rob’s gaze. He had a hefty dick, plenty thick and tanned a dark brown, just a shade darker than his skin.
He just took it out and let it flop against the fabric of his rain-soaked pants. He didn’t play with it or anything. It just lay there like an abandoned sausage.
“You have a nice cock. I really do have a car at home that makes a thwump-thwump sound. I think something’s loose in the undercarriage,” he said. “I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can fix it tonight.”
After a long, pregnant pause, Glasser said, “I might need tools.” His dickfat jiggled when he spoke. He exhaled another plume from that ever-present cigarette.
“I’ve got some tools. If there’s something you can’t do tonight, then we’ll work something else out,” Rob said. He grabbed Glasser’s limp cock with one hand. He didn’t sroke it, he just held on like a handle, gauging Glasser’s reaction. Rob faced the road, so he couldn’t see his face, but he sensed only a blankness from him.
He crossed his arms over his chest, staring out the window intently like he might see something interesting if he looked hard enough. It was dark out though. There was nothing to see but the streetlights and the other cars whizzing by on the highway. His dick throbbed and jostled in Rob’s grip.
“Okay, cool, thanks,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock a squeeze and a stroke, and still Glasser ignored it.
Glasser ignored Rob’s finger as it moved in a little circle over the spot on the underside of his cock, right where the glans met the shaft. His dick was heavy and thick. Rob stroked it with just one finger at first. He rubbed that finger from tip to root and back, while Glasser sighed.
At last, Glasser looked away from the window and watched Rob stroke his dick. He didn’t say anything.
“You let guys jack you off a lot?”
“No.”
” I’ll pay you. Hundred bucks, if you let me swallow your cum. Plus fifty to fix my car,” Rob said. “You need a place to stay?”
Glasser didn’t answer, but he grunted in a way that made the answer clear — yes. He watched his cockshaft as it flopped limply in Rob’s hand. Rob stroked slowly. He made no effort to get it hard, he was just playing with it the best he could while still driving the car with the other hand.
“You want a drink?”
Glasser glowered for a moment, then said, “Can’t. Gots a parole officer who gonna test my piss tomorrow.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Rob said. He kept stroking. Glasser’s limp dick was hot and moist with sweat. Rob was pretty sure he was trying hard not to get an erection yet. Was that to hold out for more money? Just plain anxiety? Did he drink enough he actually had trouble getting an erection? Or did he just want to prove he couldn’t get hard for a man too easily?
Pulling off the highway, Rob slowed down the car but sped up his stroking. He squeezed a bit too. That made Glasser grunt.
His cock pulsated and twitched. It began to firm up in Rob’s mind. Glasser returned to looking intently out the window. At least now there were things out there — a gas station, a dog running along the side of the road, a woman parking.
“I wanna swallow your cum.”
Glasser chuckled throatily — it was a dim, minimal chuckle, but still, it was the strongest emotion he had shown yet. “That’s nasty.” He paused. “Don’t show me ya mouth. Some perverts do that, they jerk a man off and swallow and then open up so I can see — that’s fuckin’ disgusting. Don’t do — I mean, I ain’t sayin’ I let fellers jerk me off. I don’t do that, no sir, not on the regular. I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“I used to, alright? When I was doin’ drugs, I mean, I used to let all kinda boys handle my meat,” Glasser said. “That’s all. I ain’t doin’ it no more.” He sniffled. “After tonight.”
“Okay. Cool. I get to be your last, huh?” Rob said with a laugh. He pulled into his driveway and put the car in park in front of his garage. Then he lowered his head to Glasser’s crotch and deep-throated him to the root, all in one smooth motion.
“Shit…” Glasser said. His eyes opened wide — not that Rob could see it — and he had to hold back a gasp. He didn’t know it would feel this good right away. He sucked in on his cigarette then coughed, which rammed his cock deep into Rob’s throat.
Rob grinned as he choked. Even though he couldn’t see Glasser’s face, he knew what was happening. Glasser was shocked at how good this felt but he was trying to hide it. He could sense it in Glasser’s feet curling and lifting off the car floor, in the tensing of his thigh muscles and the sudden explosive erection — his dick got noticeably more erect just in the moments it took Rob to go from playing with it to swallowing the whole foot-long shaft.
Betcha no women swallow him that deep, Rob thought… He would have said it out loud if his mouth weren’t full.
Glasser growled, a low rumbling sound that bounced out of his mouth through his gritted teeth. He lifted his ass off the seat and grabbed Rob’s head with both hands.
“Take it, man, swallow it, swallow that shit, sissy, c’mon…” Glasser said. His swarthy face turned reddish. He grunted loudly, like an angry hog, and he gripped Rob’s scalp tightly. “Don’t stop, man, I’m gonna nut.”
Rob wasn’t expecting him to cum so quickly, especially since it had taken Glasser awhile to get hard. But Rob didn’t mind — he thought he could get another load out of Glasser tonight. Hot streams of jizz poured down Rob’s throat, and he choked loudly even as he managed to get every drop down his gullet.
His lungs cried out for oxygen, but Rob managed to avoid spitting out the cum that flowed deep into his throat. Glasser held him tightly, all the way down on that massive dick, which tasted of rain and dirty clothes. His cum, on the other hand, was bright and warm and sunny, creamy like… well, cream, and salty in a good way. Rob savored the taste as it pumped down his gullet.
“You’s makin’ a sloppy mess, sissy,” Glasser said, heaving for air as he orgasmed in Rob’s mouth. He frowned, gripping Rob’s hair even more tightly. He bucked his hips, forcing his dick all the way in once more for the last few wads of cum. It coated Rob’s throat and sat hotly in his belly. “Goddamn…”
When he could resist no longer, Rob sputtered, unable to avoid making a big mess of cum that spewed out and soaked into Glasser’s pubic hair. It coated the surface of his jeans too. Even when he thought ht was done spitting up, Rob moved his head just an inch, which triggered both another explosion of pleasure in Glasser and a gag that roiled Rob’s body. Rob retched up a mouthload, while Glasser let out an involuntary moan that turned into a stonefacing grunt. He kept Rob’s dick in place, forcing him to choke up again and against, the sensation massaging Glasser’s sensitive shaft.
At last, Rob pulled off completely, forcing his head away from Glasser’s cock cuz Glasser held on tight like he was never gonna let him take a breath. Rob grabbed a coarse lungful of air, while Glasser sighed. Then Rob moved to kiss him on the lips, an instinctual move he didn’t think Glasser would accept. Glasser gently pushed and then rudely slapped his cum-dripping face.
“Don’chu dare kiss me.” He coughed, making his dickfat jiggle once more as it rapidly limpened up. “You nothin’ special, pansy.” Glasser wasn’t about to admit that that was an especially good dome — he would never admit that because it sounded too queer to say out loud. But it was obvious from his breathless reaction and the way his whole body went limp at once as he let go of Rob’s head. Rob at last pulled off and took a big, deep breath, which made a hoarse sound that filled the tiny cabin of the car.
“Hmmm… Damn, you… got dick… for days,” Rob said. He gave Glasser’s cock another stroke, which made Glasser gasp and his whole body squirm.
Glasser smacked Rob — not as hard as he could but hard enough to hurt. Glasser hadn’t wanted to squirm like that, it made him feel weak. “I ain’t say you could swallow it.”
“Oh, sorry, okay,” Rob said. He wiped his face off. “You wanna come in-?”
“Pay me, bitch.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Rob pulled out the hundred dollars he had promised and handed it over. He pointed to the garage. “Did you want to work on the car tonight? You could sleep tonight instead and do it tomorrow-“
“You got electricity in ya garage?”
“Yeah.”
“Then I’ll work tonight.” Glasser got out of the car — only then putting his dick away and realizing how much cum had gotten on his pants. He went out to stand in the rain to “wash” the stain off some. “Just go to bed, sissy. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight and finish the car tomorrow.”
“Oh. I…” Rob wanted to ask if Glasser was going to ram him in the ass. He had hoped to do more than just play with his dick for about three minutes. But he sensed that the more he pushed right now, the less cooperative Glasser would be. “Okay.”
Rob went inside. He first made himself some food — just pasta with a bunch of leftovers mixed in, but he made sure to pan-fry some onions and garlic in butter — no one, he thought, could resist that smell. He knew it was smellable out in the garage too.
But Glasser still didn’t come in. When Rob went out there to check on him, he was pretty sure Glasser hadn’t been doing any work until Rob came to the garage door. Then he slid under the car and pretended to be doing something.
It soon became obvious that the car was fixed. Glasser wasn’t going to come in the house until Rob was in bed. Rob just shrugged — a lot of men will do what they have to for money, but not sleep with men, or kiss them, or even hug them in some cases. Obviously Glasser was one of those kind of guys.
Rob put a pillow and blanket out by the couch, plus a bowl of food in the kitchen. He thought he’d get Glasser later tonight or very early tomorrow morning — he’d be horny again then, and he’d probably want money to go out drinking after meeting with his parole officer.
Then Rob turned out the lights and went to bed. Sure enough, he heard Glasser come in about twenty minutes later. Rob didn’t go out. If Glasser was homeless — which now seemed like a real possibility — he probably wanted a chance to be in a home, by himself, to relax. He heard Glasser turn the TV on — that took some fumbling with the remote, but Rob didn’t go out there to help. He let Glasser figure it out on his own.
Rob was just about asleep when the door to his bedroom opened up. His ears twitched. Glasser’s baritone burp filled the air (it smelled like the leftover pasta Rob had left out for him).
“Hey. I’m gonna ram you. Don’t say nothin’,” Glasser said. He pulled the covers off Rob and dragged his shorts down. Glasser was already naked, his dick already hard because he had found some hip-hop videos on the TV, which were thinly disguised softcore pornography. He slid his dick between Rob’s cheeks and climbed into the bed with him.
Rob wanted to ask a bunch of questions — did Glasser want a ride to his parole officer tomorrow? Did he want to use a condom? Did he want the lights on? Did he want Rob to get on all fours? That was the position men seemed to want the most often — because it didn’t require them to look at Rob’s face, his breastless chest or his cock and balls. From behind, Rob looked very feminine except for the short haircut. But then, it was dark in here anyway, so Glasser could have easily pretended Rob was female in any position.
In any case, Glasser didn’t seem too concerned about that. His hairy chest scratched at Rob’s smooth back, as Glasser humped his dick between Rob’s cheeks.
“Shush…” Glasser said after he let out a groan. He kept on shushing Rob, even though Rob barely peeped. It was Glasser who kept grunting and clucking his tongue against his teeth whenever Rob didn’t move in the direction he wanted.
Glasser brought the covers back up as though he wanted to cover this up, so no one could see what was happening. He lifted his hips up to give himself some leverage, then aimed his dick for Rob’s asshole.
“Open that ass, punk, lemme in,” Glasser said, whispering breathlessly into Rob’s ear. He slapped one of Rob’s cheeks just as his dick pushed in.
Rob grunted. At last, he finally made a sound, and Glasser erupted in a torrent of hushing. Rob squirmed as pressure hit his ass, an intense pushing sensation that was hard to take at first — this was all going so fast. After waiting for hours, Rob was finally getting rammed by his favorite hustler yet, he just needed a moment to adjust.
But Glasser wasn’t waiting a moment. He gritted his teeth and pumped his hips once more, forcing more of his dick down and into Rob’s ass. He was relentless.
He pushed Rob’s face into the mattress. “Lift ya asshole up.” He lifted his own body up as he rammed all the way in and out now. Rob had to raise his hips to meet Glasser’s cock, and soon Rob was knelt over instead of on all fours. He cried out and groaned, but Glasser again shushed him. “Quiet, keep it real quiet…”
Glasser had gotten into the habit of plowing men on the downlow, in the darkness and quiet, during his first stay in jail. Back then, he had been in a small local jail with a sheriff who strictly forbade premarital sex and even circlejerking — that was what Glasser’s biker gang traditionally did when they got arrested, to “christen” their new cell. So Glasser had started ramrodding his cellmate with the lights off, as quietly as possible, and with blankets covering him.
That was why now, even though the positioning made it awkward, Glasser tried to keep the blankets covering up his crotch and Rob’s ass. He had to use one hand on that so he could only use one hand to hold Rob in position. He pressed down on Rob’s head, which meant he couldn’t hold onto Rob’s ass — instead, every time Rob moved too much, Glasser growled to signal he should keep his ass high. And when Rob’s motion made the blanket fall away, Glasser smacked his asscheek.
“Shush, I’m gonna nut now, I’m gonna nut…” As Glasser felt his orgasm approach, he collapsed onto the bed. This felt good. It was like making love to a woman. He pulled the covers over Rob all the way up to the neck. That made it easy, especially in the dark, to pretend Rob was a woman — Glasser wasn’t pretending that, but he felt he needed to leave the option open, so he could, and so he could tell others later (not that he would tell anyone about this) that he had had to pretend Rob was a woman in order to ram him.
But actually, Glasser didn’t pretend that at all. He just wanted to bust a nut. He slid onto his side, and wrapped both hands all the way around Rob’s chest. He even kissed Rob’s cheek and nuzzled his neck as he orgasmed.
“Ah, goddamn, yeah, keep ya asshole open, keep it open…” Glasser moaned right into Rob’s ear. His breath condensed on his cheek. “Keep it open, pansy, lemme fill you up…”
Rob sprayed his own wad onto his belly and into his hands, just as he felt Glasser’s muscles spasm against his back. The petrichorian smell that clung to his unwashed body was overpowering now that it was trapped by the sheet, and since Rob was smaller than Glasser, he was buried in the scent of Glasser’s chest hair and armpit sweat.
Cum flew into Rob’s ass. Glasser was one of those who stayed still as he came, his dick all the way in, spurting wad after wad of white-hot cum. It was creamy and thick, sticky, seeping into Rob’s flesh. He felt it flowing within him.
Glasser was motionless for what felt like forever, as liquid orgasm coursed through his veins. He hadn’t blown a nut this good since prison. He attributed that to Rob having a nicer ass than most of the common prostitutes he hooked up with on the street. Being able to mess around in a bed instead of behind a dumpster helped a lot too. And Rob was clean enough to kiss, not that he intended to do any kissing.
After one final spurt of jizz up Rob’s guts, Glasser began humping again, very slowly, just grinding, sliding his half-hard dick around within Rob’s ass. He grunted along with Rob when the pain grew more intense, and Rob clenched, sending a wave of pleasure through Glasser’s post-orgasmic body.
“Shit…” Glasser said. He sighed, and for just a moment, he stayed there, breathing heavily, dick sliding moistly out of Rob’s ass. He kissed Rob’s cheek. It was affectionate and intimate, and Glasser loved it.
But he couldn’t let himself continue that. He rolled over and off Rob’s back. Rob took a deep breath.
“Thanks,” Rob said.
Glasser stood and lit a cigarette — mainly because he knew Rob didn’t allow smoking in the house and he wanted to show he did whatever he wanted, that he wasn’t letting some man be the boss of him. The smell of tobacco filled the air. Glasser smoked quietly, standing near enough to the bed that Rob could hug his hairy thighs and clean his dick off with a tissue.
Then Glasser grunted and walked out of the bedroom. “I’ll sleep on the couch, asshole,” he said. “You owe me fifty bucks for the car and two hundred for plowing you in the ass.” He paused. “Get me up at nine o’clock and drive me to the parole office. You better buy me breakfast too. Not Burger King.”
“Okay.”
Glasser went back into the other room to sleep on the couch. Last thing he did before going to sleep was sliding Rob’s ipad into the backpack he brought over here. No punk, he thought, deserves to go without being robbed.

The White Trash

Avery’s surprise encounter with the white trash hunk Calloway leads to a bout of intense rough trade, as he gets to swing on the trashiest redneck this side o’ the holler!

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Calloway Hitch stumbled home, exhausted. His boss dropped him off at just past four o’clock in the morning at the entrance to Smashwood Trailer Park. He probably would have driven into the trailer park, right to Calloway’s front door if Calloway had asked him to.
But he hadn’t asked. He didn’t want him to do that, it was too awkward.
He thought there was a chance his girlfriend had kicked him out. He didn’t want to get dropped off at a trailer with a sign on the door saying Calloway fuck off! It would be awkward. Calloway was used to it. He could just sleep on the grass, and his boss would never have to know what a deadbeat he was.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t already dirty.
He worked on a road crew rebuilding the parking lot at the local hospital. His job involved standing around, sometimes for hours, then working furiously to dig trenches. It wasn’t specialized labor but it was boring and it was physically arduous and it left him covered head to toe in dirt.
Clumps of dirt clung to every scrap of skin that was visible, and some had even gotten under his pants somehow — he was shirtless because it was a hot Mississippi night, so his chest was absolutely covered in dirt. It had been mud originally, but it dried into just plain dirt.
The farther he got from his boss’s truck, the more tired he became. The adrenaline flowed out of his veins, and every step he took was wearying. He was increasingly sure his girlfriend would have found a reason to be pissed at him.
Sure enough, when he got close to the trailer, he saw a piece of paper on the door to his trailer. He groaned. He felt so tired he didn’t even want to keep going to read it. He could just curl up here on the grass and sleep.
But he wanted to read it. What if the note said Daenerys has a fever, we’re at the hospital? He’d look like an absolute piece of shit if he never showed up to see his own daughter at the hospital just because he was too lazy to get close enough to read the note.
So he staggered there on tired legs. Sure enough it read fuck off Calloway yr child spprt check bounced again will call cops if u come in go away go away go away. He let out a growl aimed at no one in particular. He didn’t understand why that check had bounced, he had thought there was enough money in there to cover it.
“Goddamn fuck!” He shouted at the sky. He knew he ought to be quiet, but he was upset and he needed to express it. Somewhere a dog barked.
A light turned on in the trailer. Calloway groaned and spat on the ground. He didn’t want to get in trouble and he couldn’t handle getting arrested again, but if that bitch baby-mama of his was going to come out here, he was going to defend himself.
“There you are, Calloway, you piece of shit! Daenerys needs school clothes-“
“So do I, bitch!” Calloway shouted, pointing at his shirtless body and tattered old jeans.
His girlfriend wore one of his oversized tee shirts over a pair of shorts. She came out with a baseball bat in her hand. She was red-faced and puffy because she had been asleep — and probably was binge-drinking — until moments ago. “You told me you’d pay up this month-“
“I tried, but you kept borrowin’ money for beer-“
“Don’t try to pawn this off on me, you deadbeat piece-of-shit-“
“If I’m a dead beat, you’re an entire dead rap-“
Not that far away, Avery woke up with a start. He had found an empty trailer in the Smashwood Trailer Park and moved in yesterday. He went outside just in time to see Calloway curse at some of the neighbors who had poked their heads out of their trailers. Nobody called the cops in places like this, not unless it was absolutely necessary, they just shouted at Calloway and “that bitch” to shut up.
“Why don’t you go suck that cop’s dick again?!” Calloway shouted at her as she backed into the trailer. “Maybe his cum is beer! You dumbass bitch!” He faced the neighbors in the rest of the trailer park. “She loves sucking off cops! She especially likes that fat motherfucker Heartley!”
Some people snickered. It wasn’t clear if they were laughing at Calloway for calling Officer Heartley fat or if they were laughing at Calloway’s girlfriend for sucking off a cop. Calloway smiled victoriously — he had obviously interpreted it as the latter, but the look on his girlfriend’s face as she went inside suggested she thought it was the former.
Calloway tried to look like he was confident and proud as he chose a spot on the grass. It was on her property, in front of her trailer, but it was close to the road. The grass was cool and dewy. It actually felt very good — it was moist, the cold wetness sliding over his bare chest and forming clean rivulets that ran down his chest.
Once some of the filth had been wiped off, a few tattoos were visible, pale looping lines, soldiers carrying American flags and an iron cross on his neck. Clumps of mud fell off his taut, leanly muscled chest. Avery watched him settle out and lay down. Calloway didn’t last very long though before he got back up and looked around to see who was up.
Calloway didn’t go to bed without drinking. He wasn’t an alcoholic, mind you, he just didn’t go to bed without drinking. He often had only a few drinks, it was just a way to relax and get sleepy.
But of course he didn’t have any, and his girlfriend wasn’t about to let him in to nab a beer (she had probably drank it all anyway). No one else was even awake.Was he going to have to sleep totally sober?
“Psst! Hey,” Avery said, approaching him in the darkness.
Calloway nodded at him as though he often chose to sit, covered in dirt and dew, in the grass at four o’clock in the morning. He didn’t recognize Avery. “Sup, man.”
“Hi. I’m Avery.”
“Sup.”
“I just moved in across the way,” Avery said. He pointed to his new trailer.
“Cool.” Calloway paused, then said, “Hey, you got any liquor? I need a drink. No biggie, I just need a little-“
“I do in my trailer, yeah,” Avery said. He came closer and sat down in the grass next to him. “I’ll give it to you. I’ve got five bottles — I filled out my bar when I moved in. I got a bottle each of vodka, brandy, rum, gin and tequila.”
“Ah, no shit? What? What’d you say your name was?” He looked at Avery as though he really mattered now.
“Avery.”
“Cool. Hey Avery, I’m Calloway. Lemme get a drink of that rum,” he said. As he said it, he thought there had to be a catch. This trailer park was home to tons of poor white trash like him — not quite as poor or as trashy as him, but still, no one who lived here believed there was such a thing as “extra rum”, and they never had bottles around the trailer without a plan to drink them in the near future.
“Sure, sure, but first… Will you cornhole me?”
Calloway paused for a long time, his face emotionless. Then he furrowed his eyebrows. The dirt that clung to his skin cracked because he didn’t often move in that direction, and little bits of it dropped over his face and his bare chest. “What?”
“Cornhole me,” Avery said. “I wanna taste your dick and feel you in my ass — you gotta cum inside me. You don’t pull out, do you?”
“Uh… What?”
Avery smiled. He reached for Calloway’s crotch, and Calloway sucked in his breath and scooted back. Calloway licked his lips. Avery moved very slowly so Calloway could get away if he wanted to. But Calloway just watched as Avery’s hand grabbed his cock through those mud-choked jeans.
“Is that cool? I’ll give you the best dome of your life, man.”
“Right here? I mean…”
“Yeah, it’s gotta be here,” Avery said. “It’s not that public.” They were not illuminated by the street lights strung up to the trees along the dirt road through the trailer park, and it was four o’clock in the morning, so no one was around. It was barely “in public” at all.
Calloway had a hollow hick laugh, and his heavily tattooed body shook. He was very muscular — not like a bodybuilder, like a worker, with heavily overdeveloped shoulders because he spent a lot of time digging trenches. He also spent most of his money on bills, debt, court fees and child support, with a hefty amount going to booze, weed and some occasional pills. He spent virtually no money on food.
So there was no padding anywhere on his body. Avery gently stroked his dick through his pants as Calloway hemmed and hawed, and Avery’s other hand began to touch his ribs. He had a perfectly flat belly, with not an ounce of fat anywhere to be seen.
That didn’t mean he had a six-pack though. He didn’t go to the gym or work out in an organized enough fashion for an actual six-pack, his abs weren’t that well-developed. His limbs were skinny despite the corded-muscles attached to them.
Avery suspected he smoked meth, which wasn’t true — but only because he had cleaned up when he was last in prison. Calloway had smoked meth for years before getting locked up. Now he didn’t see any of that other stuff as being real drug use: the weed, the pills, none of that mattered as long as he stayed off the meth.
“Fine,” Calloway said. He smiled nervously, revealing his jagged teeth with a gaping hole on the front-bottom. He was missing a few teeth in the back too. He leaned over on his back on the grass, raising his arms over his head so he didn’t have to watch it happen.
“Have you ever been jerked off by a man before?” Avery asked. He unzipped Calloway’s jeans and pulled his dick out. It was long and not that thick, just like Calloway’s body, but it looked tasty. He flopped it over his face, and chased it with his tongue. When he did finally get a taste of it, Calloway shuddered and shook like he hadn’t thought that would really happen.
“Uh…” Calloway blushed. His voice was weak and wavery. “In prison, once. That was… not, uh… like this.” That had been totally different. His father had told him once that it ain’t none of that shit if there ain’t no females around, like in the Army. Calloway had taken that to heart. That had been the one thing he had been excited about in prison — getting jerked off by prison bitches all the time.
But it hadn’t really turned out like he had thought. Sissies in prison weren’t treated as bitches, they were treated like queens. They got to do anything they wanted. The one sissy Calloway had wanted to get dome from — because he was very girlish and had excellent, thick lips — refused on account of Calloway being a filthy hick who smelled like ball-sweat.
Not only was Calloway not allowed to force anyone into giving him dome, he couldn’t even pay or beg for one — he had only ever gotten that one nut off because he spent all weekend showering, even buying cologne in the Commissary, and then he had had to take “his man” out “on a date” in his prison cell. It had taken weeks to set up. It was more difficult to get jerked off on in the inside than it was on the outside.
This, however, had happened so quickly and so suddenly Calloway was still pondering it when it had happened. His pants were virtually ripped down and his cock plopped right into Avery’s mouth.
At last, he felt a twinge of pleasure. This dome was a little weird and awkward and he prayed that no one was awake to look out their window — even in the darkness, they could probably see what was happening — it was a full moon tonight, after all.
His dick soon firmed up in Avery’s mouth, long and throbbing against his tongue. Avery deep-throated him until his nose was buried in Calloway’s bushy pubic hair.
The taste was raunchy and sour, and it made Avery gag most deliciously. Calloway’s dick had the flavor of dirt and mud from the day’s work, and even more intensely, an underscent of old, stale dirt, the scent of dried mud and of dusty rooms, all clinging to his dick. There were even clumps of what Avery could only assume was actual dirt, or maybe some sort of grease or oil, since it had a rather chemical, astringent flavor to it.
It was actually engine oil, from when Calloway had given his boss an oil change for a few extra dollars. That had been three days ago, and Calloway hadn’t showered since then. So that extra-ripe funk emanating from his ballsac was all the stale sweat that had collected in the humid area between his legs.
It felt good to have his pants down and his cock out. Calloway didn’t get to wash that often, so his crotch didn’t get bared that often either. He sighed and tried to concentrate on how good this dome felt — he had to admit it was the best dome he’d had in awhile.
“Goddamn,” he said as he lit a cigarette. He hadn’t intended to smoke any more before he went to sleep tonight — he was trying to conserve his cigarettes — but this seemed like a fortuitous enough even to justify it. Besides, he always smoked when he got dome. He was saving enough in getting this free rum that it didn’t seem that important — he could use the money he saved by not needing to buy alcohol for a few days to buy more cigarettes instead. He could even buy a carton, he thought, which would save him even more money.
His cock leaked precum that coated Avery’s throat and tongue. Avery guzzled it down greedily, slathering spit all up and down that greasy dick. He didn’t use his hands, preferring to sneak up and over his raunchy body. His muscles rippled beneath Avery’s touch.
Then Avery pulled off and slurped on his balls, which were so sour with funk that he gagged violently. The taste brought tears to his eyes. There was so much sweat there it tasted like he had splashed his tongue into a puddle of muddy taint-juice.
“Ha!” Calloway pumped his bicep as though he had been hoping to make Avery gag like that. He blushed a little too, though that wasn’t visible beneath the layer of mud that still dappled his cheeks. His taint-hairs tickled Avery’s tongue as he licked the spot beneath Calloway’s ballsac. “You are a fuckin’ nasty freak… — Avery, I mean,” he said when he remembered Avery’s name. He flopped his dick over Avery’s face.
This, Calloway thought, was what he had been expecting out of prison bitches. He thought there’d be lots of gagging and he’d get to mollywop his prison bitch on the cheek. He did that now as Avery slurped on his balls and retched. He slapped his cock over Avery’s face, again and again. He chuckled to himself. Now that he had done it this way, all nasty and humiliating and raunchy, he was glad he had done it romantically and sweetly in prison — this was a funnier idea than an actuality.
“Are you ready to get in my ass?” Avery asked. He blushed because of the disgusted look on Calloway’s face.
Calloway shrugged and sighed. “I guess so.” He had refused to do anal in prison. It just seemed too gross, he thought. Those prison-sissies probably had old cumwads drying in their ass. Every time he watched his cellmate do it — Calloway tried to look away when it happened, but like a car accident, he couldn’t always look away — he thought he saw little dried flecks of cum on the man’s cock. It wasn’t easy to see if that’s really what it was, not without getting on his knees and peering closely — which he wasn’t going to do — it could have been bits of fuzz from the prison-issued underwear, for example.
But it seemed like it could have been dried up, old cum, and he wasn’t going to let himself touch that. No way. That was nasty.
Avery, he could be somewhat confident, wouldn’t have cumwad still soaking into his ass. Avery bent over the grass, with his ass high in the air, swaying back and forth. Avery used one hand to spread his asscheeks, revealing a tight brown hole that beckoned.
Calloway whistled. “Damn, that looks tight. I know it ain’t, it can’t be — you must be nasty-loose on account of you wanderin’ ‘round trailer parks gettin’ it up the ass…”
Avery giggled and shook his ass. “Yeah. You got a good point. I’m good at keeping it tight though. Go ahead and just ram it in.”
Calloway grimaced. He normally would hold his dick in his hand and guide it in, but he didn’t want to do that because it would mean he had to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He instead closed his eyes and tried to jab it in with no hands — but of course he just missed. He rammed it into Avery’s asscheek, leaving a moist spot of precum.
“You missed, dude,” Avery said with a giggle.
A blush bloomed on Calloway’s face again. He was glad no one could see. He looked like he was fumbling through his first time. He grimaced and tried again, this time getting it close into Avery’s cheeks.
He found the hole but had trouble getting his dick in without touching Avery’s ass. More than once, his hands instinctively grabbed those cheeks and his shaft, and tried to help his dick in, but then he pulled back when he realized he was touching Avery too much.
He took a deep breath. Touching a man’s ass wasn’t that bad, he thought, it looked better than fumbling like a squeamish virgin. He bit his lip and separated those cheeks with one hand, while his other slid his dick in.
“Damn…” Much to his surprise, it fit in very easily. Avery’s ass slid apart to almost suck his cock in. He had only intended to stick the tip in at first, to go slowly and see how much pain Avery was going to be in.
But instead Calloway watched with wide open eyes as his cock was slurped up by Avery’s ass. It clenched tightly around his shaft, and Calloway began to piston his hips.
He had been so focused on his surprise and his discomfort that Calloway gasped when a shudder of pleasure flowed through him. He bit his lip. He gripped Avery’s ass even more tightly with his fingers, so he could easily ram his dick in and out.
“Shit, boy, goddamn,” Calloway said, with a groan as pleasure flowed through his veins.
He had to admit this was better than fucking most women. It had its drawbacks, sure — no tits to grab on to, no pussy to play with, and he couldn’t kiss Avery — or wouldn’t, anyway — but Avery fit in that sweet spot between ‘tight and intact’ and ‘nasty and loose’. He was loose yet tight because he clenched hard on Calloway’s dick, as though trying to prevent him from ever pulling out. No girl did that.
Avery winced and writhed beneath Calloway, clawing at the dewy grass beneath him. He had thought they only just started plowing, but when he saw the first brilliant fingers of dawn sliding over the horizon, Avery realized he had lost track of time. It must be getting late, he thought.
It was well past five o’clock. Avery had been worshiping every inch of Calloway’s body for more than an hour, and now his prostate sang with every thrust of Calloway’s cock into him. Calloway’s lean and ropy body wrapped around Avery as he neared his orgasm, pounding away, his inhibitions finally gone at last. He didn’t even stop himself when he fondled Avery’s nipples out of pure instinct — Calloway had forgotten he wouldn’t find any tits there, and he was glad no one was around to see him do that.
An orgasm ripped through Avery’s body first. Calloway, again, was surprised — he didn’t know it was possible to orgasm while getting rammed in the ass. Girls never did that when getting fucked.
Avery shot cum all over the grass and his own hands, while Calloway felt his body ripple and massage his dick; he could sense the orgasm flowing through Avery’s body, and it was enough to bring him to the edge of his own climax.
“Damn, nasty-ass pig, you are gross!” Calloway barked right into Avery’s ear. Then he pushed Avery’s still-orgasming face into the mud. Avery got a mouthful of dirt as the raunchiest cock he’d ever taken shot its creamy wad into his guts. “Gonna fill you up wit’ my babies, bitch…”
Creamy hot cum sprayed into Avery, who moaned, his own climax still emanating through his body. The sticky, milky texture of cum was palpable inside him, and still more shot in, jet after jet of the most incredible load Avery had ever taken. It coated his insides and spilled out in a big cummy mess that coated Calloway’s crotch.
Exquisite waves of pleasure wracked both men. Avery howled out loud, uncaring of whether or not he attracted attention from the neighbors. Calloway did the same for a moment, then clenched his teeth shut and looked around to be sure no one was watching. He was unable to resist letting out a long, low and lingering moan though, as his hands gripped Avery’s smooth flesh.
Shudders flowed up Avery’s body, and his fingers tightened into claws that dug up clods of dirt underneath. Avery threw his head back, unable to howl anymore because the pressure and the pleasure were too intense. He could only gasp and cry out and beg for more from Calloway, who was still grunting with each thrust of his hips, sending spurt after spurt of creamy hot jizz up Avery’s body. Calloway’s sweat-soaked body gained a whole new layer of salty sweat that clung to his muscular frame.
Clumps of cum slipped out and onto the grass. “Ewgh, oh shit, I can see it, damn…” Calloway pulled out slowly, watching his creamy white semen plop out with his dick, until Avery’s entire ass was covered in glistening cum. Calloway’s dick rested on the surface, marinating in the santorum that dried there.
“How was that?” Avery said. His body was weak and tender, but he managed to stand on wobbling knees. He grabbed Calloway’s dick with one hand and gave it a stroke. A post-orgasmic shudder of exquisite pleasure shot through Calloway, who’s long limbs all tensed.
“Cool…” Calloway’s voice was breathy and tired, even more exhausted now than when he had gotten home from work.
“Come on,” Avery said. He held onto Calloway’s dick as he led him inside. “Lemme get you that rum.”
“Hell yeah,” Calloway said. “I gotta get drunk quick before the sun goes up, or I won’t be able to sleep.”
Avery nodded. He didn’t care. Once Calloway passed out drunk it would be morning, and he had heard a rumor there was a garbage man who sometimes wagged his massive knob at women who were up that early. Avery fully intended to be there.

The Skater

When Avery stumbles across an alpha male skater behind a convenience store, he didn’t know what he was in for! Mucker and his buddies are totally hardcore, and Mucker is ready to give Avery the longdicking he requires… with a little monetary persuasion.

That means Avery is in for a world of skatepunk alpha male action!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery waited in the alley behind the gas station. It was a secluded little spot, blocked from view by the store clerk’s car. The Long Beach air was salty and coarse because they were near the ocean. Cars honked nearby, but it sounded very distant back here, muffled by the store and the car and the dumpster and the city itself.
“You do it-“
“I said I’d do it, no problem, I’m no fuckin’ pansy. But if I do it, it’s my skateboard.”
“Man, the whole point was that we share the skateboard.”
“Then you do it too.”
“Can’t we just share it?”
“I might let you borrow it from time to time,” said Mucker — he was the rather lanky shaved-head white one with a tattoo of a flaming skull on his forearm and Gothic writing on his belly. He sucked on his teeth. “I’m gonna do it. Both of you all can jerk me off.” He chuckled.
He came back around to Avery’s side of the car, in the alley behind the convenience store. He obviously didn’t realize that Avery heard him and his buddies talking. Mucker and his two friends were skateboarders. Mucker had a punk rock hardcore look, while his friends were more of a Goth — Bram — and a hipster — Leif. But all three were handsome and alluring, with physiques worth seeking out.
That was what Avery liked. He greatly appreciated the male form.
“Hey, I’m in, bro,” Mucker said like it was no big deal. He had a cocky swagger, though Avery could tell he was nervous. “You got a smoke? Gimme a smoke too.”
Avery didn’t smoke, but he had a pack of cigarettes he had bought for just this possibility. They were probably kind of stale now, but Mucker didn’t seem to care as he took one. Then he scowled and grabbed the pack. “Pay upfront.”
“No way. How do I know you’ll stay?”
“You don’t, man.” Mucker lit his cigarette with a match. “I’m gonna take your three hundred dollars no matter what. You can pay me and jerk me off. Or I can rob you and punch you in the face. Your choice.”
“I’ll pay you,” Avery said with a shrug. He had a feeling something like that would happen.
He’d run into Mucker and his buddies back in a skate park, and he’d known from the first glance that Mucker was a gettable piece of rough trade. He had that studly a-mouth’s-a-mouth look, like he just needed to bust a nut and didn’t care whose mouth swallowed it. Avery dropped to his knees in front of Mucker, who sighed like this was a big imposition. He flopped his cock out in front of his shorts. Avery hadn’t paid him yet, but Mucker either didn’t want to force the issue or was so anxious he had forgotten about the demand.
His two friends, Bram and Leif, giggled but shushed themselves because it wasn’t manly enough. They serioused up their faces and looked dourly upon the scene, wrinkling their noses when Mucker’s dick started to get hard.
“See? It ain’t bad,” Mucker said. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as the other guys. His cock was still limp, which didn’t bother Avery, who enjoyed playing with a limp dick and in any case could feel the hardon burgeoning within. It’d get hard soon enough. Meanwhile he slathered spit up and down the shaft. Mucker screwed up his eyes. “It’s good dome.”
“Can you feel hair on his face?”
“Yeah, he’s got some stubble-“
“No, I can’t feel it, bro,” Mucker said. He scoffed as though that was a ridiculous notion. Avery knew it wasn’t ridiculous — some guys hated feeling even a bit of scruff on their dicks — but if you were tough enough, it didn’t matter. Vaginas had hair too, around the outside. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but not all men saw it that way. His dick starting to firm, Mucker laughed. “You guys got too many hangups. That’s why you can’t get girls.”
“Man, fuck you, I get girls.”
“Not like me,” Mucker said. He pursed his lips, kissing the air. He frowned down at Avery, whose lips formed a tight seal around his veiny shaft. “I bet you guys get blowjobs like this, all nice and shit. Right?” He demonstrated making sweet love, moaning and smiling as he humped the back of Avery’s throat. He screwed up his face again, pretending out like a romantic loverboy, making kisses at a girl.
The sight of Mucker’s undulating chest muscles beneath his torn black t-shirt made Avery’s dick twitch in his hand. He slurped the sweat off Mucker’s shaft, making the sound as loud and moist as possible.
“That’s not how to fuck,” Mucker said. “Don’t be nice like that, you gotta do it hard. Girls don’t like it like that. Girls want you to plow ’em hard.” He powerfully rammed Avery’s face to demonstrate — it wasn’t violent, like daggering, but he undulated his hips, grinding his dick deep into Avery’s throat. When Avery choked, Mucker clucked his tongue and kept pushing.
“You ain’t some kinda gigolo, Mucker-“
“I been with more girls than you,” Mucker said with a cocky snort, still plowing Avery’s throat gently. “Trust me. Girls love it like this.” He smiled at his buddies, who fidgeted with the beat-up old sticker-clad skateboards in their hands. “Like this.”
He grabbed the back of Avery’s head, smiled down at him and fed his dick deep into Avery’s throat. When Avery gagged and sputtered, Mucker moaned and pulled away. “See? Ya gotta move your hips-” Pleasure rippled visibly through his powerful chest.
“Don’t be more gentle.” Avery croaked and gasped. A few tendrils of spit connected his lip to Mucker’s dick.
“What?”
“Throat me harder,” Avery said. “Please? Ram my mouth so hard. Turn my throat into your pussy. Make my belly pregnant, man. Your dick is so good. I need more-“
He was interrupted by a torrent of laughter from Bram and Leif. Mucker looked down at Avery with a sour face, like he never thought somebody might want it harder. He gulped, then put on a more serious expression.
“Oh, you like it like that, huh? Well, fine, I can always get rougher,” Mucker said with a cocky sneer. He resumed throating Avery down, slamming his dick all the way in.
When Avery didn’t struggle — though he did choke and sputter again — Mucker swayed his hips to the side. Avery gagged and swallowed Mucker’s shaft to the root, his nose nuzzling Mucker’s pubes, but Mucker just moaned and shook his head, doing a little mock-orgasm to make his friends laugh.
“Damn, maybe I should make men jerk me off more often,” Mucker said with a gasp. He licked his teeth. “Hey, you jerk a lotta guys off?”
He pulled off Avery’s mouth, but Avery just gasped for air. He was unable to speak still. Mucker waited patiently with his dick right in front of Avery’s mouth. Spit dripped off the shaft, which Avery stroked with both hands.
“Huh? You jerk guys off a lot?”
Avery shrugged. “Yeah.” He heaved for air.
“You really like it?”
“That’s nasty,” Mucker said. He put his dick back in Avery’s mouth and jabbed it around, exploring every corner of his mouth. He touched the inside of Avery’s cheek and his cocktip poked out the side of his face. When he rubbed the tip through Avery’s cheek, he felt the peach-fuzz there, frowned and withdrew his fingers.
Precum flowed into Avery’s throat. He guzzled it down, savoring every drop. It tasted funky, like Mucker didn’t shower too regularly — that was perfect for Avery. He loved Mucker’s trashy skater look and the taste of his unwashed body. His precum flowed copiously, coating Avery’s mouth. Avery’s fingers danced up Mucker’s chest, slipping underneath his shirt to grope his toned muscles.
“I ain’t say you could touch my chest,” Mucker said. His pecs flexed beneath Avery’s fingers, and Mucker’s whole body turned redder and redder, either from embarrassment or arousal or maybe anger at his buddies or a combination of all three.
Taking his mouth away and licking up and down Mucker’s shaft, Avery smiled. “You’re a big strong man. Push my hands away if you don’t want ‘em there.” He tweaked Mucker’s nipples again, hard enough this time that it must have hurt, but he kept going even as Mucker bristled and shifted his weight between his feet.
Mucker’s eyes fluttered. He waited a few seconds, but then he did push Avery’s hands away from his nipples. He grunted. His face had turned well ruddy by now, and his eyes were bugging out. His dick twitched, sending out a stream of precum and throbbing against Avery’s tongue. Avery sucked on it like a lollipop.
“Hey, put on some music,” Mucker muttered. “I always listen to music when I fuck chicks. Get my phone, Leif — ah, shit, I know, play that ‘Hey Girl, Yo’ Boyfriend Was My Prison Bitch’ song.”
Leif laughed as he came forward, then stopped as though there was an invisible ring of yuck around Mucker and Avery. He couldn’t grab the phone Mucker was giving him without coming close.
“Uh… Stop moving for a sec,” Leif said.
“What? No, man, I’m gettin’ dome over here. Just grab the phone,” Mucker said. As if to demonstrate, he grabbed ahold of Avery’s ears and shook his head, moving it all around on his cock and making Avery gag all over again. His one hand still held the phone out, but he didn’t move any closer to Leif.
“There’s… Don’t splash on me, bro. I don’t wanna get too close and-” Leif said. Bram burst into loud guffaws.
“Man, don’t be a pussy. What? You never touched a little precum and spit?”
“Well… Only my own, man…”
“You’re such a pansy. It’s raw and bestial and if you wanna be hardcore, you gotta get past your hangups with it,” Mucker said. He pumped one of his biceps and sneered at Leif. “You’re like some mainstream pop-punk sell-out who-” He yelped in surprise as Avery came off his dick and stood. He sucked on Mucker’s rock-hard, bulging bicep. Mucker gasped. “Uh…”
“You gotta get past your hangups, Mucker,” Avery said. He slid his tongue over the stale sweat clinging to Mucker’s strapping upper arm and shoulder. His muscles were firm and hot, salty with old sweat. It didn’t seem Mucker showered a lot.
“Oh, yeah… I was just surprised. I mean… I guess you can kiss my arm, or whatever,” Mucker said. Despite his words, he seemed nervous and uncomfortable. His whole body rippled when Avery grabbed his dick with one hand and stroked while he licked Mucker’s tattooed biceps. Mucker smiled wanly. His cock pulsated in Avery’s grip. “See? I, uh… It’s just my body. No big deal.”
“Can I kiss you?” Avery asked.
“No!”
“It’s just your body,” Avery said. He smiled as Bram and Leif laughed.
“You said that, Mucker.”
“Go for it, freak!”
“I mean…” Mucker blushed. His eyes opened wide as he raced to think of a reason. “I just… You haven’t paid for that, that’s it. I would too, I’d say yes. Double it. If you double it, you can kiss me and I’ll ram you in the ass too, I don’t even care.”
“Fine.”
The alley was filled with silence that lasted for awhile, and Avery kept stroking Mucker’s hardon that whole time. Mucker stammered as his friends howled and clapped.
Hey, you punks get outta there! I’ll call the cops! The alley isn’t for you! Get away from my car!
“Fuck you, Aarush!” Leif yelled. The convenience store clerk had come out and seen Leif and Bram in the alley near the parked car — the clerk’s car — but Avery was concealed. The dumpster blocked Mucker and Avery from view, so the store clerk probably assumed the skateboarders were skateboarding back here, or maybe preparing to steal his car. He yelled something else but Avery didn’t catch what he said.
“I mean… Do you have that much money?” Mucker asked. He sighed.
“I only have three hundred dollars cash on me,” Avery said. “But I’ll give you that and buy you a skateboard with my credit card.”
Mucker flared his nostrils. It was clear he hadn’t considered this possibility. This was in a very poor section of Long Beach, which was entirely poor to begin with. Mucker, it seemed, assumed that six hundred dollars was way beyond what Avery could pay.
But he could really use a new skateboard.
“Uh… Fine.” Mucker hung his head. His dick still spewed precum into Avery’s hand. “Wait, more!”
“What?”
“Uh… I can’t think of what, but when we go to the store, you gotta buy more than just the skateboard. Like… a t-shirt, or something. Or whatever, not that.” It sounded like Mucker was too nervous to think of anything else for sale in the skater store.
Leif spoke up. “Get us a new bong, man.”
“Oh, yeah, a bong! A nice one. A big one!”
“Not a big one, man, they suck! They waste so much weed!” Leif said.
“Fine, a small bong. And a big bong. One of each. And some rolling papers. And a lighter. Two lighters.”
“Sure. Whatever you boys want,” Avery said. He smiled. Then, before Mucker could think of more things to add to the list, Avery kissed him right on the lips. Mucker’s whole body tensed.
Bram and Leif erupted in howling peals of laughter. Mucker stood straight as an arrow. He submitted to Avery’s hands roaming up his chest now, caressing his trembling muscles.
Avery’s tongue plunged into Mucker’s mouth. Mucker didn’t move a muscle, but Avery still loved the taste of his nervous boy spit. He battered every inch of Mucker’s mouth with his tongue, then, all in one smooth motion, pulled away and lifted Mucker’s shirt off with both hands.
His powerful, ropy-muscled body was heavily tattooed, with anarchy symbols and Gothic lettering. He closed his eyes as Avery licked the sweat off his chest, teasing his sternum and his nipples. He massaged Mucker’s back muscles, and his hands slid down to grope his firm asscheeks.
“Shut the fuck up,” Mucker muttered at his friends when they continued to react as though a man-on-man kiss was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. Mucker scoffed and regained his composure. “It’s not a big deal. What’s going on with that music, Leif?”
But Leif wasn’t paying attention, still holding Mucker’s phone in one hand. Mucker shook his head and sighed. He looked confident, but Avery could feel and taste his anxiety in the way his muscles rippled beneath Avery’s tongue.
Leif chuckled. “So is this what girls like, man? You sellin’ yourself for a new lighter?”
“Two new lighters-” Bram said.
“Man, fuck you both!” Mucker roared. He took a deep drag on his cigarette as though he didn’t care about Avery licking his chest, tracing an outline of his muscles and his tattoos. Mucker scoffed. “Girls like everything I do, man, cuz I got game.” He jabbed a finger over Avery’s head at Leif and Bram.
“You got game? Yeah, right…”
“Girls don’t like everything you do. Remember that skateboard trick?” Leif asked.
“What skateboard trick?”
Bram and Leif both laughed and tried to tell the story at the same time. They remained on the far side of the alley though. They shushed each other, but eventually Leif’s voice overpowered Bram’s.
“It was last Halloween. This fucking idiot was drunk and trying to impress a girl-“
“I was not trying to impress anyone, it was just a-“
“Shut up, Mucker. He was trying to impress this girl, who wasn’t even hot. She-“
“She was hot!”
“She had a butterface, bro, and not a good one. You had beer goggles. Or malt liquor goggles, whatever,” Leif said. “He balanced his skateboard on his cock.”
Avery giggled. “What?”
“I saw it on YouTube, fuck you all!” Mucker said. He blushed and growled down at Avery. His cock pulsated in Avery’s hand, as he watched Avery lick up and down his powerful chest.
“He got his dick hard in the bushes, then showed up at the beach bonfire where everyone was sitting, and he put the skateboard on its side on his cock. He thought everyone would be impressed he could hold a skateboard with his dick.”
“That is impressive,” Avery said.
“He had it on the top of his cock, leaning against his body,” Bram said.
“The girls ran out of there like it was a fuckin’ tornado,” Leif said, laughing so hard his face turned red. “Even fucking Edna left, and she’s the biggest slut in the world. Biggest both literally and figuratively.”
The funniest part of the story was how embarrassed Mucker was by it. It even deflated his erection a little. It was clear he prided himself on his success with women, so this story was a major blow to his self-image. He screwed up his face at Leif and Bram.
“That’s… whatever, man, whatever…” Mucker muttered. He bit his lip. It looked like, if Leif was close enough, Mucker would have punched him. But he’d have to pull Avery off his muscle worship of Mucker’s body.
“Let me see it.” Avery said. “Girls will always think that is gross and weird. But I’ll be impressed. Lemme see it.”
Mucker smiled, ignoring his friends’ snickering. He grabbed his ratty old skateboard and stroked his own cock to be sure it was fully hard. Then he gingerly balanced it on his shaft. As Bram said, he leaned it against his flat belly.
“Man, only old dudes are impressed by it.”
“That is so stupid.” Bram laughed so hard he choked a little.
“Shut up, guys,” Mucker put the skateboard down — he only balanced it for a few seconds, so it wasn’t really that impressive — and wiped some dirt off his dickshaft. “You want me in your ass, let’s do it. Come on. Bend over and grab your ankles. You want something to bite down on?” He snarled and barked like a Marine in basic training. He flexed his biceps.
When Avery didn’t bend over fast enough, Mucker forced him into position. Avery did bend all the way over to grab his own ankles — that was an awkward position for him, but he wanted to do whatever Mucker ordered. He wanted to make this feel so good Mucker demanded more.
Mucker inhaled sharply as he pushed his dick in. He sighed as soon as the first half-inch or so was inside, as though he was worried he wouldn’t be able to do it and was relieved he got at least this far. He took a deep breath and kept working it in. Then he closed his eyes. He kept his face angled deeper into the alley so he didn’t have to watch his own dick slide into Avery’s ass. Avery had to bend awkwardly over while using both hands to separate his cheeks and guide Mucker’s dick in.
“Cornhole him!”
“Here it is, bro,” Leif said. He fidgeted with the phone, then a pounding techno bassline came out. The sound was tinny and faint, but Mucker modified his humping to fit the beat. The only words Avery could make out was I’m gonna fuck you, girl, like I rammed your boyfriend in prison. That sounded hot, so Avery made a mental note to look up the video when he got home.
I swear to God, you fuckers, I called the police! You can’t skateboard back there! The clerk barked from the store door, still not coming close enough to see what happened on the far side of the dumpster.
“Fuck you, Aarush! We’re not skateboarding!” Leif yelled. He came to the edge of the alley and bellowed. “We’re doing… something else.” He paused and chuckled. “We’re making money. We’re exchanging services for money.”
“Yeah, we’re doing capitalism, Aarush!” Bram called out.
Are you selling drugs? You boys get outta there! You’re gonna get arrested. You’re all going to jail.
Avery looked up and made a nervous face, but Mucker waved him off. Mucker’s cheeks were red as he began to ram harder and harder, losing his anxiety the more he rammed, deeper and deeper with each thrust into Avery’s ass.
“Don’t worry, they won’t send you to jail,” Mucker said. “And it takes the cops like an hour to get here.”
Bram chuckled. “He’d probably like it if he went to jail with us.”
“Oh yeah, you’d get all weekend to molest us.” Mucker slapped Avery’s ass and pounded. He grunted as his balls thwacked loudly against Avery’s thighs.
Avery groaned. Pangs of pleasure and pain rang up his spine. Bent over and grabbing his ankles was a difficult position, but he loved it, and he could tell that Mucker liked it too. Mucker’s shirtless chest writhed, his strapping muscles gleaming as they had become covered with a sheen of sweat.
He had a nice, plump, thick cock that was plenty difficult to take but not so big that it actually hurt. Avery moaned and spread his cheeks, allowing Mucker to demolish his ass. Mucker used every ounce of power in his lithe body, slamming his entire weight down to ram Avery’s ass as hard as he could.
Meanwhile, Leif continued to yell back and forth with Aarush, whose stentorian voice filled the air. Avery couldn’t hear any of their words, he just heard the tenor of their shouting match. The feeling of that massive cock in his ass ripping him apart made Avery scream as he reached orgasm.
“Aw, fuck!!!” Avery was so loud so suddenly that it made Mucker jump in surprise. It also made his ass clench around Mucker’s dick, which was, it seemed, enough to send Mucker over the edge as well. Jizz jetted into Avery’s ass.
Avery lifted his head, throwing himself back on Mucker’s body, as his booty filled up with Mucker’s creamy seed. He leaned his head back as pleasure coursed through his veins, spurts of cum landing in his ass. Avery stuck his tongue out and licked sweat up off Mucker’s trembling neck.
Hey, Mucker, they’re early! 5-O!
Leif’s voice rang out. It felt very distant to Avery, whose mind didn’t process the flashing siren lights he saw reflected off the side of the dumpster. The cops were here!
“Ah, shit, shit,” Mucker said breathlessly.
“I’ll distract ‘em, just hurry up,” Bram said. He jogged away from the alley, seemingly glad to get away from the sordid scene.
Mucker and Avery both sighed. Mucker’s eyes were closed, and his cock spasmed as it shot out his last few drops of cum. His muscles pulsated against Avery’s smooth back.
They could have stayed like that for an eternity. Avery wouldn’t have minded. He greatly enjoyed the feel of Mucker’s post-orgasmic cock, still hard but limpening quickly, inside his ass, while he sucked sweat off Mucker’s tattooed muscles.
But the sound of police officers demanding information out by the store made Avery and Mucker jump into action. As Mucker withdrew his cock, Avery opened his mouth and kissed him on the lips. Mucker jumped again, but submitted, just for a moment. Avery sucked on his lips and passionately slathered kisses all over Mucker’s face.
Mucker pushed him away. “Okay, you got your shit. You got what you paid for,” Mucker said. He wiped his lips off. “Bro… Fuck, bro… Fuck…” He glanced down the alley and pulled his pants up without bothering to wipe his dick off. He put his shirt on. He shook his head and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Gimme that three hundred later, the cops’ll just think we’re selling drugs if they see me with that kind of cash. I was back here showing you moves on my skateboard, okay? You’re… a journalist or something, okay? Doing a piece on me cuz I’m like, the best skateboarder in the county.”
Hey! Is someone else back there in the alley? Come on out with your hands up.
“Okay,” Avery said. He took a deep breath. He wasn’t worried about this situation. He knew enough to know how to handle the cops.
He waited for Mucker to go first, so Avery could watch his ass, hugged by boxers and revealed by his sagging dirty jeans. Avery licked his lips and followed, hands in the air.
Keep your hands up, boys! You got anything sharp in your pockets?
He sighed. This definitely hadn’t ended how he’d hoped it was going to go.

The Alpha in a Black Leather Jacket

When bikers fill up Avery’s town, he isn’t sure how to react. Then one studly alpha catches his eye, and before Avery knows it, he’s made an offer the biker is too horny to turn down!

Can Avery get that macho biker to stop scaring the customers away from his store?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Avery sighed as motorcycles whizzed past outside his flower shop. He wasn’t even sure he should bother to be open today — there was a biker festival just down the street, so Avery’s hometown was temporarily home to thousands of bikers. They roared by, engines rumbling like dragons.
He didn’t think they were likely to buy very many flowers. But as long as they were around, not many people were out on the street, and no one was out shopping for things like flowers. So it had killed his business for the day.
Oh no, there’s one right outside… Avery’s heart fluttered for a couple reasons. Firstly, the biker milling about had an incredible physique, and he sent Avery’s blood into overdrive. Second, he was scary, and he made Avery want to run and hide. Third, he was intimidating and his presence would guarantee that no customers came into the shop today.
But Avery couldn’t decide whether to run in fear or call the police or ask to jerk him off. This biker looked like he might consider it with the right persuasion.
He was swarthy-skinned, with an old-fashioned mustache that was well-groomed atop a beard that was scruffy and poorly-groomed. He wore a series of black clothes — they blended in, in layers, so much that it was hard to tell how many shirts, vests and patches he wore. But above it all was a sterling black leather jacket, under which his chest was broad. His hair was long and curly, in a jet-black mullet that piled up behind his neck.
Was he dangerous? He certainly didn’t look safe. But Avery would feel like an asshole if he called the police on some random man who wasn’t a threat. He’d look like a fool too — this town was full of bikers; the cop would tell Avery that a lot of people are going to look rough today and he should try to relax, it would be patronizing and humiliating.
But Avery didn’t want him hanging out in front of the store. There was no way anyone would come in to buy flowers if they had to go past this biker. Sure enough, as though intending to demonstrate it, the biker scowled at two nice ladies walking past.
“Smile, lady, c’mon,” said the biker, his voice a low throaty growl. “You’d be prettier if ya smiled.”
The women just quickened their pace and kept going. The biker watched and lit a cigarette.
Avery took a deep breath. He thought he needed to go out there and do something. He didn’t know what, but it needed to be something.
He went out there without a second thought. The biker turned to look at him.
“Hey, uh, so, I got-“
The biker grunted. “I ain’t stayin’.”
A long pause filled the air, and Avery blushed. This biker was thickly built, and he reeked of engine oil and stale sweat — not like he was sweaty, but more like it had soaked into the black leather of his biker jacket.
“I’m sorry?”
“You came out here to stay I can’t hang out in front of ya store, right?” The biker peered inside the window. He scoffed. “Fuckin’ flowers… You know there’s an Internet, right? You can buy flowers online. Probably.”
“Some people like buying flowers in stores.”
The biker rolled his eyes. “Well, I ain’t stayin’ so don’t worry. My bike gots a pro’lem and it ain’t runnin’, boy.” He pointed to a motorcycle parked on the side of the road. “Waitin’ for my buddy to show up wit’ some tools.”
“Oh, uh, well, do you have to wait right here in front of my door?”
“You want me to buy somethin’? I ain’t got shit for cash, man. I got ‘bout five bucks to my name, not countin’ what I needs for gas to get home, and beer — you best believe I ain’t goin’ wit’out beer at the festival, boy, swear to God, I’ll box ya goddamn ears.”
“Oh, well… I dunno, I don’t, uh… my flowers are all more expensive, uh, than…” Avery’s voice trailed off because the biker glared at him, eyes drilling into his soul. Avery cleared his throat.
“Whatchoo want? Why you still talkin’ to me?”
“I, uh…” Avery cleared his throat. “I thought… uh… maybe-“
“Get it out, boy,” the biker said. He grabbed Avery by the chin, his callused fingers rubbing over Avery’s smooth skin.
Avery went pale. “I wanted, uh-“
“I ain’t a pervert,” the biker said, chewing on his lip as he forced Avery to look him in the eye. His hot breath condensed on Avery’s lips — it was virtually a kiss. Avery instinctively reached out and touched the man’s chest for support, holding onto his powerful body. He sensed curly chest hairs underneath those layers of biker gear.
“Good…” Avery’s voice was a mousy squeak.
The biker laughed, a harsh and guttural sound. It didn’t sound like a real laugh, more like he wanted Avery to think he was laughing at him. Still he was so close they nearly kissed.
Then, they did.
The biker pecked Avery right on the lips. He tasted of cigarettes and smog, and he guffawed at the shocked look on Avery’s face. He shoved Avery against the wall in front of his door.
“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll be gone toot-sweet, my dear,” the biker said. “Just as soon as my buddy shows up wit’ his tools.”
Avery blushed and went back into his shop. His hands were clenched into fists as a torrent of confusing emotions enveloped him — he was angry, humiliated, aroused, mollified, eager, offended and frightened all at once.
But it was his hard dick that made him struggle the most to keep focus. He tried to do his inventory — he’d be meaning to do that anyway, and it was easier now that no one was in the shop. But he kept finding himself looking out the window at the biker.
It was during such a moment, when Avery lifted his face, that he saw the biker leaning casually against the parking meter in front of the shop. He had raised his ass up — cradled by mud-splattered black jeans which were speckled with pale bleach spots — and shook it subtly. He turned around and guffawed again, looking in the dark window.
It was impossible to see in past the display case in the window, because Avery had purchased very dark glass (he hated glare). The biker had been performing like that for some time, laughing at what he imagined Avery was doing. He turned around and grabbed his dick through his jeans, showing off its size and heft and aiming it towards the window.
For the first time, Avery wondered if this biker actually wanted something from him. He was so used to needing to make the first move on a fresh slice of rough trade, he didn’t always think of the possibility that they wanted to do it too, that they were trying to make him do it.
They wouldn’t just ask.
The biker paced in front of the shop. After awhile, he stopped teasing Avery through the window. He stroked his scraggly beard hairs and alternated between leaning on his motorcycle, catcalling at women and mean-mugging men.
Finally, the biker checked his phone, threw his hands in the air and came in. He looked at Avery as though trying to gauge whether or not he had noticed what he did out there. Avery kept his face stony and expressionless.
“My battery’s dead. I don’t think my buddy’s coming,” the biker said. He growled. “You got a outlet?” He looked around until he found an outlet, then plugged his phone charger in before Avery could answer.
“Uh… So…-“
“You don’t talk much, huh?”
“Hmmm… No.” Avery blushed. “I, uh.. Well, maybe, I like… Sometimes, I talk more… I’m not exactly shy, but-“
“Uh-huh, yeah.” The biker waited for something he didn’t say out loud. His dark eyes looked Avery over. “What’s ya name, boy?”
“Avery.”
“I’m Cooter.” He absent-mindedly rifled through some flowers by the counter. “You, uh… you got work? I gotta get my bike fixed. I ain’t, y’know… a flower-buyin’ kinda guy. But I got, y’know… skills, in like… other shit.”
“Hmmm… Like what?” Avery asked. He was now more confident that Cooter wanted to get paid to let Avery jerk him off. Avery had been around long enough to sense it radiating off him.
“Well… I learned how to cook in prison. I know you ain’t a restaurant or nothin’, but you know…” Cooter laughed that dry, throaty laugh. “I can’t really cook. I can cook spaghetti for like six hundred guys, but I always fuck it up cooking for just me.” He bit his lip. “I ain’t got no skills, ‘kay? Least, not no legal ones. You want me to cook up some meth?”
Avery blushed. “No…”
“You scared of me, huh, boy? Don’t let me bein’ in prison scare you neither, I ain’t never stab no one who ain’t deserve it.” He paused. “I mean, that ain’t strictly true, lemme be honest wit’ ya, I gotta be honest under God’s watchful eye, right? Lemme be honest, I did done stab this one bitch on account of he was lookin’ at me wrong, but he turned out to be a child molester anyhow. I ain’t know that then, so, y’know… it’s questionable, that’s all I’m sayin’.”
“Right… Uh… cool…” Avery was finding it very hard to concentrate. He was positive Cooter wanted to be paid for a swing on his dick. He even grabbed his cock through his jeans. Avery was overwhelmed by fear and desire, and the scent of his asphalt-reeking leather jacket — he had fallen off his motorcycle enough that the blacktop had been ground into the leather. His limbs even vibrated a little like he still imagined himself atop his motorcycle.
“You lookin’ like you wanna say somethin’ but you too scared. Huh? You scared, boy?” He spoke more softly and touched Avery’s cheek, pinching it like a grandmother. Though he seemed to be trying to be less intimidating, it only came across as even more frightening.
“Umm… Yeah.”
Cooter rolled his eyes. “Man, I ain’t a prideful fella.” He got down on his knees and lowered his eyes. “See? Now you taller ‘an me, and you ain’t gotta look me in the eye. So whatchoo think? You know a way I can earn some money? Maybe I got some skills I learn in prison you might enjoy.”
“Well… Maybe. I, uh… I was kind of hoping, that, uh… maybe-” Avery caught a glimpse of Cooter’s eyes when he glanced up, and Avery blushed. “I…”
“Ah, man, I done scare you, huh? You wanna punch me? You might feel better ‘bout it if you punched me?” Cooter reached up and touched Avery’s lips. He pulled his tongue out of his mouth. “What’s wrong? I know you got words on ya tongue. You prolly got all kinda… remnants on ya tongue. You got remnants of different activities on there? I bet you do all kinda things with that tongue. That’s a nice, big, wet tongue. I could come up wit’ lots of activities you could do wit’ that if we shared a cell.” He chuckled. “But we don’t. So you gotta come up wit’ them activities, and you gots to pay, boy. You ready to pay?” He leaned back and shrugged off his jacket. “Go’n, punch me, it’ll make you feel better.”
“I, uh… I don’t want to.” Avery felt weak and tinny.
“Then what do you want to do?” Cooter closed his eyes. “You just lemme know.” He pursed his lips like he was kissing the air. “Or you can just do it.”
Avery couldn’t resist it. He planted his lips on Cooter’s. Just like the kiss out on the sidewalk, it lasted only a moment, and it was chaste and dry. As soon as Avery’s tongue tried to enter Cooter’s mouth, Cooter pushed him away.
“I ain’t kissin’ a feller,” Cooter said. “So use ya words and make me an offer.”
“I’ll… I’d like you to cornhole me,” Avery said with a blush.
“How much?”
“One hundred dollars-“
Cooter stood and went to the cash register. He shook it open and counted out more than three hundred dollars from the till — including the twenties and fifties that were under the drawer. “It just so happens, boy, that my price for that is exactly three hundred twenty-seven dollars. That is a mighty coincidence on account of that’s the amount you got in the till.” He paused. “And get me some flowers.”
“What?”
“I need flowers. Somethin’ classy, for an old lady. For my great-aunt. Her birthday is Monday.”
“Oh, uh… Well, we have this one, it’s very nice-“
“Just gimme the goddamn flowers, asshole,” he said with a snarl. He grabbed the bouquet out of Avery’s hand. He didn’t even look at it, he just set the bouquet down by the door. “Alright.” He stood there by the shop counter. “Well? You gonna start jerkin’ or what? Don’t even try to make me take no dick, lemme tell you. I don’t do that shit.”
“I… Can we go up to my apartment?” Avery asked. He locked the store door.
“Fine.” Cooter sighed. “Let’s go.”
Avery brought him into the back of the shop, which led to a stairwell. It was narrow and humid here, with spiderwebs in each corner of the ceiling. The dust was visible in the rays of late afternoon sunlight that filled the air.
Cooter placed one hand on Avery’s ass. He gripped his jeans by the waistband and held on, preventing Avery from taking the next step up the staircase. He let out a growl and grinned when Avery turned around.
Avery’s heart raced. Was he going to punch him? Was he going to rob him? (More than he already sort of had?)
“Lotta folks think that, in prison, you ramrod a man in the shower, or you ramrod a man in ya cell, or whatever, ya feel me?” He passed Avery, standing higher than him on the stairs, and when Avery was too engrossed to respond — overwhelmed still by the awkward situation — he took Avery’s hand and placed it on his belly. His muscles rippled. “Ya feel me now?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But in fact, there’s guards in the shower, and there’s cameras in ya cell, and you ain’t allowed to ram, boy, they’ll stop you on account of it’s a law. So when the pressure get too much and you gots to ram, you do it somewhere else. Like in a hallway, or in the stairwell or some shit,” Cooter said. “So I wanna do it here.” He put both hands on Avery’s head and pushed him to his knees.
Avery was too short to reach Cooter’s crotch like this. Cooter was a few steps higher than Avery, so he had to sit on the stairs and spread his legs wide. He unceremoniously unzipped his jeans and let a darkly tan cock flop out.
It was thick and meaty, still limp but Avery could tell when he got close that it had been half-hard recently, maybe even fully erect. Cooter had definitely been trying to get a nut off for awhile.
“Hey…” He grabbed Avery by the hair, just at the moment Avery wrapped his lips around the tip of his funky cock. “A man’s gotta take whatever affection he can get.” Cooter pulled Avery’s head up, kissed him on the lips and rammed his tongue into his mouth.
Avery squealed and squirmed in surprise. His hands clawed at Cooter’s chest, which was hard like iron beneath his leather clothes. Avery’s tongue tasted like cigarettes and steel, and it was huge, so it filled up Avery’s mouth. Avery’s hands wrapped around Cooter’s shoulders, and for a moment, they made intense, passionate love with their mouths.
Just a moment though. Once Avery got over his shock and awe, and started kissing Cooter back, Cooter let go and pushed him back down to his crotch.
“Jerk me off, boy,” Cooter said. “And don’t try to kiss me no more. I don’t kiss boys.”
“Oh… … Uh… Sorry,” Avery said. He lowered his head to his crotch, while Cooter lit another cigarette and took his shirts off. Avery suckled on his cocktip — he had gotten fully erect while being kissed — and looked up at his face and his bare chest.
Cooter was covered in tattoos, and a few scars. There was a bullet wound on his belly, and an oddly-shaped dragon over his heart — Avery soon realized it was oddly-shaped because it covered up a swastika that had been carved into his chest.
His dick tasted like sweat and industrial soap, and it was firm, veiny, throbbing like a motorcycle engine as it rubbed against Avery’s tongue. Cooter gripped Avery by the ears, dragging his head up and down on his shaft.
“Open wide, boy…”
Soon, Cooter stood, still using both hands on Avery’s ears and his lips to keep the lit cigarette in his mouth. He swayed his hips, grinding his dick in deep. He didn’t ram Avery’s throat in an aggressive or mean way, not like a lot of alphas did — Avery wouldn’t have minded — he made sweet love to his throat. He didn’t stop when Avery choked, but he wasn’t violent about it either. He just clucked his tongue and kept on plowing.
Soon his balls smacked and rubbed against Avery’s chin. Cooter took a deep drag on his cigarette. He let go of Avery’s head, watching him slide up and down on his moistened shaft.
“Hmmm… You want me to stick you, boy?”
Avery nodded without taking Cooter’s dick out of his mouth. He suckled moistly, slurping down every drop of salty precum he could find. He kept slurping even as Cooter tried to pull his head off. Avery giggled — he liked the frustrated look on Cooter’s face.
Cooter snarled and bent Avery over on the stairs. Since they faced opposite directions, Cooter had to go over Avery to be lower than him on the narrow staircase. He could have stepped around Avery’s body to get beneath him, but instead he sat on his back and rubbed his hairy ass — laughing the whole way — until he was lower on the staircase.
“You like my ass-slide, boy,” Cooter said. He chuckled. “Now, I am guessin’ this is prolly implied, but lemme be totally clear, son, when we are done here, you ain’t gonna never tell no one ‘bout it. Not the police, not ya priest, ya rabbi, not some other biker you might jerk off a couple hours from now, or a couple decades from now. If’n you ever even think ‘bout tellin’ folks what’s ‘bout to happen, I will bury you in wet cement and I’ll send ya mama a rude limerick describin’ how you died, ya feel me?”
“I won’t tell, I would never-“
“Good.” Cooter didn’t wait for a second. He jammed his dick in, just the tip at first. He grabbed Avery by the hair and held his head in place as Avery howled in pain. Cooter waited for him to stop, with just the first inch or so of his dick in Avery’s ass. “You ready?”
“Yeah. Just go slow.”
Cooter wrapped one of his well-muscled arms around Avery’s throat. Again, he didn’t choke him, but he held on firmly enough he did slightly restrict his breathing. As he did, he pistoned his dick in farther, ignoring Avery’s intense writhing.
“Goddamn!” Avery cried out.
“Hmmm… You ready to get started?” Cooter asked, whispering in his ears. “Here’s the skills I learned in prison, boy. Don’t you nevuh let no one know.” He kissed Avery again, and he rammed his tongue into his mouth. Meanwhile his other hand roamed lower and lower on Avery’s chest, then his belly, then to his crotch.
He held onto Avery’s cock with one hand, while his other kept Avery’s head upright. It took all of Avery’s concentration just to balance on the stairs, even with Cooter holding him in place.
“Good boy, good boy, keep that ass high, keep it up there, I’m goin’ deep now!” Cooter called out and moaned. He whooped like a cowboy. “You feel me? Huh? You like that? Say somethin’.”
“Yeah… Fill me up.” Avery couldn’t say much. He gasped. If he had been jacking himself off, he’d have cum already. But Cooter’s hand was callused and he stroked in a disrhythmic way, somewhat uncomfortable, more like a farmer masturbating his livestock than someone who genuinely wanted to give a reacharound, though the medley of moans and grunts that moistly emanated from his mouth sounded authentically desirous.
“You gonna nut? Tell me when you nut, I wanna hear it. Lemme hear you say it. Use my name, okay? Say ‘Cooter is makin’ me nut cuz he so handsome’, okay? Say that.”
“Cooter… is making… me nut cuz… he’s so… handsome…” Avery moaned and squirmed. He would have collapsed onto his belly but Cooter held him tightly in position.
“Good… I can feel ya nut, don’t worry, I don’t mind you nuttin’ on my hand, ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ that,” he said. He kept on stroking as Avery’s face turned red. Then, just before cum actually sprayed from Avery’s dick, Cooter again kissed him on the lips from behind.
He rammed hard then. He had waited for that — he loved plowing men who orgasmed with his cock in their ass. He could feel that orgasm in how Avery clenched around his dick, and in the gasping that was swallowed up by Cooter’s bicep.
His tongue slathered spit over Avery’s lips and cheeks, as Cooter reached his own orgasm and couldn’t quite kiss anymore — it felt so good he shuddered and shook, and his tongue lolled over Avery’s face. Cooter loved having his bottom all wrapped up in his arms so he could keep him right at the perfect level, swallowing up his dick and every drop of cum.
His balls crawled up in his sac as he filled Avery with his creamy load. It was thick and hot, and it seeped in Avery’s flesh. It trickled through his body more and more with each thrust of Cooter’s manhood into him.
“You okay, boy? Say you okay, and I’ll take my dick out. Tell me whatchoo think,” Cooter said.
“I… I loved that,” Avery said through gritted teeth. The moist pressure was intense in his ass, and it made him buck in Cooter’s arms.
“Okay, when I pull out, remember, nothing happened here today. No strokin’, no reachin’ around nobody’s delicate body that could be so easily smashed to pieces. No talking ‘bout nothin’ nasty, okay? Rammin’ ain’t a topic of conversation. It’s somethin’ that only happened as long as we’re in this stairwell. When we’re done… I robbed you. If any bikers asked, I grabbed the money outta ya cash register. If any cops ask, you smash ‘em in the face with a whiskey bottle and don’t say a goddamn word. Ya understand?”
Avery nodded. “I, uh… if a cop — ah-” He sighed as Cooter finally pulled his cock out. “If a cop asks, I won’t hit him, I mean…” He sighed again and collapsed on the stairs. “I won’t tell him either, I just, I don’t feel comfortable attacking a cop-“
“Shut up, boy. I was kiddin’.” Cooter wiped his dick off on Avery’s asscheeks, then tucked it back in his pants. He put his clothes on and walked out of the stairwell. “Hey, gimme yo’ phone number, boy.”
“Okay…”
Cooter smiled that harsh, intimidating smile. His mustache quivered. “If’n I don’t find a female who gonna give up the booty tonight, I’ll come over and Avery you again. Have some cash ready.”
“Okay.” Avery was breathless, eyes wide as he watched Cooter leave. Cooter grabbed his pack with the flower for his great-aunt in it and his phone from the outlet, then walked out the door. Avery breathed a sigh of relief.
And he turned over the “open” sign to read “closed”.