Super Mario Kart champion – Mansploitation

Desmond wished he could just buy meth and find his way home on Baltimore’s byzantine transit system. That’d be so simple. But he gotta meet his man, Jaython, and do the deal with him. Buying from Jaython was always complicated.
“Yo, nigga, hey, how you doin’? There you are, I see you. What’s crack-a-lackin’, you stayin’ upright? You got it goin’ on, right?” Jaython said. Jaython was speaking to Desmond but aimed his words over Desmond’s shoulders. So Desmond just mumbled a yes and went along with him. Jaython continued without listening. “I know you do! Hell yeah, nigga! I know how you play it. You keep it low-key, huh? Yep, that’s you, nigga, I seen that!”.
Jaython walked away as though Desmond was supposed to follow him, but normally Jaython would say if they had to go somewhere. They met in a burger joint downtown, which was normal. But instead of leading Desmond into a booth — where he could put the meth under a napkin, slide it over to Desmond and receive the money in the same manner — he headed out the door. Desmond followed.
The air outside was hot and humid, a typical late-summer evening in Baltimore, and Desmond was sweaty as soon as he walked one block. Desmond wrinkled his nose at Jaython, who kept motormouthing. He grimaced. Jaython was so obnoxious. Why couldn’t drug dealers be normal?
“I’m glad you called me, I was settin’ some shit aside for you. I figured you was about to call me. That’s what I said, this other nigga be like ‘lemme get a couple, Jaython’, and I say ‘nah, I ain’t got none’. But I got three jawns set aside just for that friendly-face Desmond. I ain’t tell that nigga I got ’em set aside, he just keep talkin’ shit ’bout my ‘nventory. He always tryin’ not to pay anyhow, all oh ‘you know, I get you back, Jaython’, then I gotta go call him up all the time like a goddamn stork.” That made Desmond scrunch up his eyes — what did Jaython think a stork was? But he let him continue. “That ain’t me. I like you, friendly-face, you always pay up front and on time. Uh-huh. Hear that.”
“Uh-huh. Where are we going?” Desmond asked when he could get a word in.
“Yessuh, back to my place, that’s where I got whatchoo need, friendly-face,” he said. He groaned and nodded towards the squat brick building down the road. “That’s my building, the one wit’ the barbershop on the outfront. Don’t be surprised by that old head hangin’ out there, like he pretending there a stoop and he be filling it up. He just moved in a week ago, and he done got my goat-“
“Yo, Jaython, my nigga! How you doin’? You got them females on point, right? You got one to share? We could double-team her! Our sacs, nigga, slappity-slap!” That old head with gray tinges barked up the street at Jaython, along with a beatboxing slappy noise like two ballsacks thwacking together. The old head glanced at Desmond, looked away, then looked back and stared at him like a hungry wolf. His eyes taking in Desmond, the old head spoke to Jaython in a high-calm voice. “‘Sup Jaython. You keepin’ it real?”
Desmond sucked in his breath as he got up close to him, the liniment-and-lotion scent of that barrelhouse nigga sending Desmond reeling with desire. Men like that made Desmond wanna smoke meth and jack off. The old head was maybe fifty or so, and his unkempt beard was salt with black streaks, but the hair on his head, done down in tight cornrows, was jet-black and thinly peppered with silver. He wore a ruddy brown jacket with a lapel like a pool shark atop old-fashioned daddy-bear jeans. He was broad-shouldered and thick as a boxer.
“You can ignore him, he old as shit. He just move in, but he stay up in my grill,” Jaython said under his breath.
“Yo, Jaython, hey nigga! Hey, I’m rappin’ at’cha!” The old head drank from a bottle of something concealed by a brown paper bag. He put it down on the sidewalk. “Hey!”
Jaython rolled his eyes. “Yo, Thumper, ‘sup-“
“Hey, how’s yo’ dick, homie?” Thumper grabbed at Jaython’s cock through his jeans and cackled. Jaython swatted his hand away, keeping a serious-nigga look on his face. The old head Thumper drank from the bottle in his other hand. “Where’s yo’ females at? Huh? I know you got females, ain’t ya gonna share? Lemme hollah at ’em. Did’ja tell ’em I lick pussy?” He stuck his tongue out between two of his fingers, again looking at Desmond as he spoke to Jaython. “Tell ’em I got the tongue of a much younger man.”
“They don’t want yo’ old ass, Thumper, lay off,” Jaython said. He again smacked Thumper’s hand off his crotch, and he looked that old head upside his melon crossways.
“Oh, you talkin’ some shit now, boy! You happy-flappin’ nigga!” Thumper called out, flapping the fingers of one hand in front of his lips. He cackled again and seemed about to say something else when he saw Desmond once more, and his eyes turned serious.
“Thumper, shut yo’ old head up,” Jaython said, brushing past him as he led Desmond into the building. Desmond followed but shook his ass and turned around to make eye contact with Thumper. Thumper removed his old-fashioned newsie cap as though going to formally woo a female, but he ain’t say peep. Desmond made a kissy face and licked his lips.
But he went in through the little door in the narrow alley beside the door to the barbershop, following Jaython. Desmond wanted to jack off with Thumper, but he needed to smoke meth.
“Fuckin’ old heads, man, I swear. If I ever get real old and obnoxious like that ashy-knee mothahfucker, just slit my goddamn throat, Desmond,” Jaython said. He almost never called Desmond by name, and it made Desmond smile — he was horny and excited about Thumper. As Desmond’s heart sped up in anticipation, Jaython opened the door to his apartment.
He did the deal as quick as he could with Jaython prattling on, and then Desmond pocketed the meth. He wanted to get back out there, so he bade his goodbye to Jaython and skedaddled. He had meth in his pocket straining to get smoked when he strode out to the building’s outfront. He barely even listened to Jaython say goodbye. Desmond could only think about Thumper.
And the meth.
“Sup,” Thumper said when Desmond came out. He was playing it cool, leaning against the wall of the barbershop. He glanced at Desmond with deep and dirty eyes. He musta known Desmond was here buying drugs, but he didn’t ask which one. Thumper was too thick to smoke meth, so Desmond didn’t mention it. He wasn’t one to share unless he had to.
His old head booty thickly beckoned Desmond. He sashayed in front of Thumper, who still played it cool. Desmond could tell he wanted to jack off too.
For one thing, Thumper been waiting out here, knowing Desmond would come out eventually. Now he rumbled like a demure earthquake, licking his teeth in Desmond’s direction. He shifted his hefty weight between his feet, and his wide nose wrinkled.
“Hi,” Desmond said with a winsome giggle. “My name’s Desmond.”
“Hmmm, you smooth as shit, Desmond.” Thumper took his newsie cap off, and his wrinkled face ruttled as he chewed on his lower lip.
Desmond leaned in and whispered near Thumper’s neck — he wore some kind of strong-smelling lotion, which Desmond inhaled deeply of. It was astringent and harsh, vaguely medicinal. “You wanna go somewhere?” He moaned in as feminine a manner as he could muster.
A baritone, raspy grunt came outta Thumper, like he was cumming already. He touched his crotch through his pants, rearranging the hardon that strained the fabric. He let out a little growl. “Boy, I bin lookin’ to get my dick wet, and you look plenty moist. I-“
“Yo old head, nice shoes!” A couple young black men walking by snickered. Thumper looked at them and nodded as though he ain’t realize they was teasing him. Thumper wore sneakers that was old and frayed and faded. As the young men left, they shoved each other towards Thumper and whispered as though issuing dares to approach him.
Thumper muttered, “Fuck them. Whatchoo doin’, boy?”
With an insouciant shrug, Desmond said, “I got no plans I couldn’t change, y’know… if something better came up.”
“Shit, you wanna come up to my place, sweetheart?”
Desmond nodded. “You aren’t gonna hurt me, will you?” He shook his ass in Thumper’s direction and followed him into the lobby of Jaython’s building.
Thumper whistled, a long, low sound. He glanced up and down the hallways to make sure ain’t no one there. Then he turned around, planted his lips on Desmond’s and rammed his tongue in. He wrapped his arms around Desmond, swooning, bending him and kissing him more passionately than any woman ever could.
But only for a few seconds. He let go, and Desmond almost fell to the ground.
“Sweetheart, I couldn’t nevuh hurt someone as pretty as you,” Thumper said. “You look like you ready to bust a nut, and I wanna jack off wit’choo.” He sidled up behind Desmond, his rock-hard dick plainly palpable and jutting against the fabric of his khakhis. He pistoned his hips against Desmond, dry-humping him through their clothes for a moment. Then he grunted. “Shit, I gonna make you feel so good you grow some titties. I can’t resist that. I was in prison fo’ a long time, boy, and I done learnt some lessons in there I wanna teach you.”
Exulting in the feel of Thumper’s heft and the warmth radiating off him, Desmond giggled and touched his bulgey-muscled arm through his shirt and jacket. “Hmmm… We need to go somewhere more private.”
“I can’t wait, baby, c’mon, lemme inside you-” He kept dry-humping Desmond, who made it to the elevators and pressed the up-button. His rammed rigid as rebar into Desmond’s thigh. “Oh shit, baby, I need you. You feel me? I’s hard fo’ you. I don’t even care you male, don’t bothuh me none, I can pretend like none othuh. Shit… You shook yo’ ass at me out there, I need you-“
“Okay, baby, wait-” Desmond said, grunting when Thumper’s muscle-humping became too intense to take — he was leaning on Desmond, and he was much heavier, so Desmond couldn’t support him. Thumper’s cock jutted against his pants and jabbed Desmond in the side through both men’s clothes.
The elevator door opened, and they both walked in. Thumper kissed him on the back of the neck. “Shit… we could stop this elevator between floors and-“
“Wait for me!” An old woman’s voice filled the air. Then, moments later, just as the doors shut, a cane appeared in the threshold. The doors stayed open.
A fat old lady in a colorful hat came in to the elevator, bustling in bursts and murmuring musically to herself. “Thank you, sweethearts — oh hello, Wendell, so good to see you. It was a lovely sermon this mornin’, wasn’t it?”
“Oh yes, Vera, Rev. Cherrymore is a wise man, drippin’ wit’ righteous,” Thumper said. He leaned awkwardly against the wall. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants. It would have been obvious if Vera looked down, but she seemed oblivious. “Vera, this my nephew…”
“Desmond.”
“My nephew Desmond,” Thumper said. His voice was throaty and tense. The elevator whirred into action and ascended. Thumper’s hand roamed over Desmond’s back, then slipped under his shirt and caressed his smooth skin. Thumper flexed his muscles and arched his back, subduing a moan.
“Nice to meet you, Desmond,” Vera said. “Did you go to church today, Desmond?”
“Uh…” Desmond paused for a long time. Then he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I was, uh… not around here though-“
“Well, as long as you go. Glory goes to the good lord on high,” Vera said. The elevator came to a stop on the second floor. She smiled at Thumper. “God bless you and yours, Wendell.” She gave Desmond a nod. “Desmond.” Then she walked out.

“Hmm-hmm, you too, ma’am,” Thumper said in a low growl. He shuffled out behind Desmond, who walked much more slowly than him. Thumper bumped into him from behind, and that massive erect dick rammed into the small of Desmond’s back.

A fruity giggle came from Desmond’s lips. “She called you Wendell,” he said.
Thumper squeezed his shoulder. “Hush up ’bout that,” he said. “That’s my chu’ch name.” Desmond continued to walk slowly. Thumper grunted, huffed and puffled, holding Desmond by the shoulder as though to push him — but he remained gentle, not actually pushing. His bulge rubbed against Desmond’s back.
Finally they made it to an apartment, and Thumper fumbled with his keys before he got the door open.
It was a sparse bachelor’s abode. There were no personal belongings, no decorations, just a plain couch, a chair, a Super Nintendo and clothes neatly folded in compact piles on the floor. Towels and clothes hung to dry on all the interior doors. They smelled like body soap, not laundry detergent. His mattress was on the floor, and the sheets wasn’t done up right, the bed unmade, just a tangle-pile of blankets, dirty socks and bedsheets.
“Oh my god, do you have the original Mario Kart?” Desmond said. He went right to the Super Nintendo. “I was unbeatable in that game.”
Thumper sidled up behind him, pawing over Desmond’s side. “You wanna play games, or… you wanna play a game?” He nuzzled Desmond’s back. “I wanna hear you make that sound you made before, that girlish sound. Let’s go in the other room. Leave yo’ phone out here.”
With a slim smile, Desmond squealed and moaned like a female. “Hmmm… Thumper, I want you to ravage me. I love jacking off.” He blushed and turned around to face Thumper, who hurried to drop his khakhis, all while slathering Desmond in sloppy kisses. Desmond dropped his phone as they made they way into the bedroom. “Sorry, I-” Desmond was cut off by a kiss. “Thumper, baby-“
“I need you, sweetheart. Whatchoo want me to do? Huh? I’ll make you feel so good, you don’t even know-” Thumper gyrated his hips, slamming his powerful body against Desmond.
“Why don’t you go sit down on that couch and relax. Let me worship you,” Desmond said. He pushed Thumper away and clucked his tongue, and then Thumper raced to jump onto the couch. He winced because his erect dick was slammed into his prison drawers, which he pulled down. His manhood stuck straight up, massive and already throbbing. It was thick and veiny, and it beckoned Desmond.
Desmond touched his dick, and Thumper threw his head back and moaned as though already finna cum. He gyrated his hips to hump Desmond’s hand.
With a guttural grunt, Thumper moaned, “C’mon, sweetheart, lick it, please? Please?-” His whole body buckled, like he gotsta hold back from humping Desmond hard.
“You don’t need to beg me, Thumper,” Desmond said. He licked his lips and ran his hand up and down Thumper’s pulsating shaft. “I want to worship you-” The more Desmond lazily stroked his dick, the more agitated Thumper became. It pulsated and humped Desmond’s hand. Thumper hyperventilated, hands flailing because he didn’t want to touch Desmond — he knew if he did, he would lose control. His cock throbbed angrily in Desmond’s grip. “I want to make you feel so good, baby. Will you take your shirt off?”
“Hell yeah, please, make it wet, okay? Make it wet? I need it, I need it, I need it-” Thumper ripped his shirt in his haste to get it off. He tossed it on the floor. “Sweetheart, I think I love you. Let me in you, okay? Lemme in you right now, get my dick wet.”
He moved frenetically, while Desmond got down on his knees, stroking with one hand and moving closer to actually slurping on Thumper’s manhood. Thumper’s thick body twisted above Desmond’s head.
Finally, Desmond planted his lips right on Thumper’s cocktip. He loudly, moistly suckled, producing as much spit as he could. He made a big mess. Thumper was in a frenzy the whole time, sitting up on his ass, then lifting his ass up and resting his fists on the couch, then dropping back, leaning his head back and moaning. He grabbed Desmond’s head, tried to plow into him, but Desmond resisted, so he let go.
“Shit, sweetheart, goddamn, you, shit, ah, damn, nigga, nigga, oh fuck, awwwwww goddamn,” Thumper said, gasping and moaning over and over.
Desmond smiled and pulled off his dick. “You taste so good.” He moaned and flopped Thumper’s cock — with precum already flowing down the shaft — over his face. “I love your dick, baby. I haven’t even tasted most of it. What part did you want me to lick next? The underside, like this?” Desmond giggled and slathered spit on the underside of his cock, tongue running up and down it. Thumper twitched. “Or maybe the other side-“
“Shit, c’mon, sweetheart, you got such nice lips, you know what I want, you know where I want ’em, I know you do. You just teasin’ me now. You teasin’ me-“
Desmond laughed. “Hmmm…. I bet you want me to do something like this.” He put Thumper’s dick back in his mouth and rammed his head all the way down, until his face was buried in Thumper’s unkempt pubic bush. Thumper let out a long low howl. He barked and twisted beneath Desmond, licking his lips and sucking in his breath.
“Goddamn, shit, shit, shit… You got it, go back and fort’ on it, go back and fort’ on it-” He gripped the couch cushions beneath himself, his toes curling. “You makin’ me feel good, nigga!”
Desmond went back to just sucking on the tip. He kept stroking too, with one hand, while his other gently massaged Thumper’s balls. They were heavy and low, and Desmond dragged his tongue down to them. He made eye contact with Thumper as he slurped the sweat off his sac.
“Shit, sweetheart, lemme stick you now, okay? Please? I wanna get in yo’ butt. I’ll make it nice and open first, okay? I’ll get in there and lick yo’ butt until it feels good. Lemme suck yo’ asshole.” He paused. “You shave yo’ ass, right?”
“Of course,” Desmond said. He bent over the couch next to Thumper, who was still sitting there.
Thumper grumbled and took a deep breath. He didn’t like eating boy-ass, but he had learned to slam males in prison, and in there, it became deeply ingrained in him that, if you wanted to be nice to a man, you got to lick his ass to open him up. Thumper wouldn’t want to do it if Desmond’s ass was hairy.
But it was smooth and inviting. As always happened, when he got close to that sweet boy-ass, Thumper’s inhibitions melted away. As long as his boy got a feminine shape and made feminine sounds and his skin was smooth like a girl’s, Thumper could lick a booty. It was a little bit of funk, a little difficult, a little gross, but that seemed like something necessary — it shouldn’t be too easy, Thumper thought, and he knew his dick hurt his bottoms, even the experienced ones, on account of his thickness, so it made sense to sacrifice to make it easier.
Desmond smelled of girlish fruity perfume anyway, so with his eyes closed, Thumper didn’t even have think about what he was licking. He plowed his face in there, scratchy beard hairs rubbing against Desmond’s cheeks. His tongue rammed right into Desmond’s tight hole.
“Ooh, your tongue is so big… It feels nice, lick it, baby, oh god…” Desmond moaned. He gritted his teeth as his own dick twitched and flexed. Pleasure wafted up his spine.
Thumper had never enjoyed licking ass like this. It had never tasted so good, so filthy and so clean all at once. He growled, lapping at that tight hole. At first he was just doing it because he thought he should, it was a rule in his mind — if a man is cooperating, a nigga should eat his butt open and get him off too — but now he did it cuz he wanted it, so he could taste every inch of it. That faintly funky odor just made it taste better. Thumper savored the mind-blowing flavor.
Then his tongue ran up Desmond’s back, making his spine pucker. He ignored the sound of Desmond’s shaky hands lighting his meth-pipe, and his nose wrinkled at the cloud of meth smoke blooming in the air. Thumper kissed a trail of moisture up Desmond’s spine, while Thumper’s cock moved up his legs to his sweet brown bottom. Thumper’s dick slid right into his ass. “Ah, damn, nigga, I’s inside ya…” Thumper hadn’t even meant to do that. He was going to rub his dick in Desmond’s moist asscrack first, before finally penetrating him, but Desmond’s ass had been so inviting it virtually sucked him in. “Oh fuck, that okay? You a’ight, sweetheart? You okay?”
“Hmm yeah, that-” Desmond gritted his teeth as a jolt of pain finally hit him — he was well-lubed with spit, so most of Thumper’s cock made it into him before there was any resistance. The meth in his lungs turned that pain to pleasure, so Desmond moaned and sucked in his breath. “It feels good, papi. It hurts just a bit, you can keep going-“
“Nah. Nah, I said I wasn’t gonna hurt’cha, no way,” Thumper said. He pulled his dick out, bent back over and went back to licking Desmond’s ass. This time his asshole gaped already, and Thumper’s tongue stretched it. Desmond cried out. Thumper noisily licked, slurping, sucking. He gagged because he could taste his own precum and the flavor of Desmond’s ass’s deepest recesses. But Thumper ain’t care — he loved watching Desmond squirm beneath his tongue’s tender touch.
“Oh god! Oh god!” Desmond gasped. He clutched the couch cushions beneath himself and lowered his head, raising his ass as high as he could.
“You ready, baby? I’m gettin’ back in there. Won’t hurt a bit! No way, I forbid it,” Thumper said. He gripped Desmond’s cheeks and slid in. This time there was indeed not a scrap of pain. Desmond’s ass was open wide and loose, ready to accept every inch of Thumper’s cock.
That was what Thumper wanted, and he was willing to lick male ass to get it — he got to plow in and out of Desmond, all the way, the full length of his cock ramming in. Desmond couldn’t stop huffing for more. Intense pleasure exploded in Thumper’s dick, running through his body in his veins and making him shout so loud his downstairs neighbors banged on the floor with a broomstick.
“Shush, sweetheart, we wakin’ up the neighbors…” He said even though he was the only one making noise, because he had been stamping his feet. He whinnied and got down even lower, his strapping-muscled chest rubbing over Desmond’s back.
“Cum inside me, okay? I wanna feel you cumming in me…” Desmond begged. He knew men loved to cum inside their bottoms, and they loved to hear him beg for it — since women often didn’t want it or used condoms to avoid pregnancy. Desmond cried out, repeating himself over and over. “Fill me up with your nut, please? Please?”
“Of course, of course, sweetheart, shit, goodness me-” He bit his lip and grunted as though his orgasm hurt. His hands even roamed around and gripped Desmond’s cock, stroking him just a few times to bring him to a methy orgasm. He simply needed to stimulate and touch and experience Desmond orgasming; he wanted to feel every bit of it.
So he stroked Desmond off with one hand, while his other hand kept Desmond’s ass in position. Grinding his dick around, he soon felt Desmond’s prostate — he could tell because, when he touched it, spraying his cumwad onto it, Desmond’s cock pulsated in his grasp. Desmond even dropped the glass pipe.
“Ah, shit, shit…. You feel me cummin’ in you? Lemme hear you, okay? Say it loud-“
“Oh god, you feel so good inside me! Yes! Yes!” Desmond shouted until Thumper shushed him and then put his free hand onto Desmond’s mouth. It tasted of clean assjuice and body hair and salty cum. Desmond sucked it all up off his palm, then sucked on each of Thumper’s fingers as he was filled with creamy hot jiss.
“Ah, shit, boy…” Thumper shot the last few drops of cum in him and shook his hips, making Desmond throw his head back and howl. Again the people beneath his apartment banged on their ceiling, and Thumper grumbled. “Them niggas best shut they fuckin’ faces up. We makin’ stink in here.”
“Hmmm… You feel so good inside me, baby…” Desmond said, his voice breaking because of the limpening dick inside his ass. He leaned back and kissed Thumper’s neck, while his hands desperately grabbed the glass pipe he had dropped. When Thumper began to remove his dick, Desmond gasped. “Wait, no, I ain’t done. Leave yo’ dick in me for a minute. I wanna feel it some more, it’s so big and so hot inside me… Please don’t take it out yet…”
“Course, sweetheart…” Thumper said with a chuckle. His cock was beginning to get pained because it was soft now, but his machismo wouldn’t let him take it out before his bottom was done. Desmond knew that, that was why he asked even though his own ass was beginning to get sore.
Thumper gasped. The exquisite sensitivity of his cock became apparent as his whole body twitched above Desmond. When Desmond clenched his ass around Thumper’s shaft, Thumper cried out loud, stamped his feet and kissed Desmond right on the lips.
“Hell, sweetheart, shit, shit… I love you so much…”
Desmond clucked his tongue. “No you don’t, baby, you’re just feeling good cuz I made you feel good. Okay, you can pull out now, I’m finished.” He sighed as Thumper pulled out. A banging sound could be heard downstairs.
“Shit… We ain’t gonna be alone much longer,” Thumper said with a chuckle. “Go hide, baby, they can’t know I’m messin’ wit’cha.” He kissed Desmond on the lips. “Them niggas ain’t never got locked up. They don’t get it.”
Desmond was gonna ask where he should hide when there came a loud banging on the door. Desmond scurried off to the bedroom, where he shut the door and shut his ears. He had his meth pipe in hand and cum dribbling out of his behind, and that was all that mattered. The baritone arguments wafting from the front door bothered him none.
“Yo! Thumper! You old-head mothahfuckah! I am tryin’ to get some goddamn sleep! I got off work-“
Thumper opened the door, still naked, his cock limp now but shiny and thickly throbbing between his legs. “You best not come up here yellin’ like a damn fool-“
“Whatchoo stompin’ around ’bout, naked as a shaved pussy, graytag?”
“I’s stompin’ to protest yo’ mama’s tasteless asshole!” Thumper shouted in that downstairs man’s face.
Their screaming degenerated into a brawl, as Thumper threw down a flurry of fists. Desmond poked his head out and smiled at the sight of them fighting. There was something arousing about seeing a naked man fight, Desmond thought. Thumper’s dick gleamed, flopping against his legs as he passed punches on to that downstairs neighbor, a younger prettyboy with fashion tats, short dreads and a swole lip.
Desmond hid again when he was almost seen. He settled down and sighed. He lit his pipe and exhaled a long plume of thick cloud. He loved the look of clouding meth smoke. It felt good to have plenty of meth for the night, not to mention a macho nigga with as much dick than Desmond could take.
It was gonna be a good night.