Chapter One: Tusslin’
“Hey, Mason, Mason, hoss, hey,” came a thick-and-raspy, holler-heavy voice in the darkness, so deep you could tell the speaker was tall and big-chested. He sounded like a church bell come to life, and his voice filled the small first-aid clinic, which flooded with light from the corridor when the big man opened the door.
Mason was slow to rouse. He wriggled upright in his little clinic bed, and he leaned back on his elbows. “Huh?”
A heavy knock on the door filled the room. “Mason?” The big man had already opened the door, he just knocked to wake Mason up more fully.
“Huh, what?” Mason sat up. “Oh… Hey, uh, come in.”
The roughneck gotta stoop to come into the first-aid clinic. He was indeed a mighty stack of shoulders. He was Buck Sampson, the biggest worker on Rig E19 in the North Pacific. He was as broad as an ox and as tall as a gorilla, well past six and a half feet, tall enough to duck when he walked through the rig’s doorways. He had a big mane of greasy black curls. His shirtless chest rippled, his body hair clinging to his skin because of a sheen of sweat gleaming in the light that spilled in from the corridor. He exuded heat that Mason could feel, amid the cold barreling in from the harshly lit and unheated corridor.
Buck let the door shut behind him. He turned on the light, and Mason squinted until his eyes adjusted.
“Hey, I got cut,” Buck said in that abyssal and dull voice, words resounding low as a bassoon and dutifully masculine. It made Mason’s heart wobble. Blood poured down Buck’s cheek. “You gots a buttuhfly bandage, hoss?”
Mason yawned and nodded. Only now did he wake up enough to realize Buck was nearly naked, wearing only a pair of scrawny tight-whites that ain’t fit on him. The pouch was overstuffed, the outline of his giant cock clearly visible, pubic hairs protruding around the sides.
And he was bleeding from his head.
“Oh. Oh shit! Oh, oh…! Oh, Buck, hey, c’mon in,” Mason said. He real quick got gloves on and slapped some rubbing alcohol and gauze on the cut in Buck’s forehead. The laceration was shallow. Long, but shallow. Even when Buck sat in the chair, Mason had to stand on his toes to reach Buck’s forehead. Buck’s bare chest muscles rippled as if he had to use them to sit there motionless, first each pec in turn, then his sides and his abs. The smell of his unwashed body hair and salty armpits hit Mason’s nostrils. “What happened?”
“I was tusslin’ wit’ Lem, tha’ss all. J’st a tussle,” Buck said. He shrugged, which made the wound wiggle as Mason tended to it. Buck’s torso rippled again as he laughed. Him and Lem Hammer were bunkmates, bedding down together in a dead-end on the other side of the rig, not in an actual barrack, in a disused dead-end they covered with mattresses, blankets, pillows and space heaters. It was like an adult’s pillow fort, and Mason was secretly jealous that he had to live in the first-aid clinic. Buck’s chuckles reverberated in the tiny room. “We was play-fightin’, and he gots a jagged toenail. Cut me good he did.”
“Oh, shit, boy, he got’cha good. Damn…” Mason said, wiping the wound with rubbing alcohol. The laceration was already clotted, but it had spurted out at first and Buck’s face was coated in crimson, so it looked much worse than it was. Mason wiped off blood with a wetnap to make sure there were no hidden cuts. “He was like a half-inch from slicing your eyeball open, Buck.”
“That toenail deadly,” Buck said. His baritone voice dripped with the glacier-carved hollers of his native West Virginia. “I tol’ him he best cut it.”
“I’ll do it, if he can’t,” Mason said.
“Might could need a chainsaw.”
“That can be arranged.” Mason chuckled. He’d actually trimmed Lem’s toenails for him before, cuz Lem didn’t always do it properly. Mason squeezed the laceration on Buck’s head shut with one hand, then lined up the butterfly bandage with the other. “Hold still.”
Neither of them said anything for a second, as Mason applied the butterfly bandage and stood back to be sure it took. Buck was still too, his giant bloody head looking dour as a dinosaur. He got big features — a big nose that was cattywompus and bulging, like a swollen fist — he was an ex-boxer, that was why, his nose busted up like his cauliflowery ears — big lips, big chin, big ears, big square cheeks — and his damn near seven-foot frame took up lotta room in the clinic. He radiated heat from his hairy chest.
When Mason was satisfied that Buck was bandaged and disinfected, he cleaned more blood off Buck’s face. The meat of his torso was firm like a rock with a pleasantly plump layer of padding atop it — Buck was no bodybuilder. He was as strong as one, but he ate like a champion and wasn’t ripped.
That other guy, Lem, he was ripped. Scrawny though, ropy, he was ripped like a heroin addict on steroids. Buck was ripped like a well-fed horse. Both were strong as tequila though, and both exuded an aura of masculine energy that Mason found invigorating.
“Lem’s a shit, I says he gonna cut me wit’ that toenail, I do be sayin’ that, I do,” Buck said with a low laugh. The motion coulda reopened the wound, so Mason kept a watch on it, but the butterfly bandage took. “Tha’ss the old black feller, you know him, right?”
“I know Lem,” Mason said. “Me and Lem go way back.”
“Oh sheeit, hoss, was he always crazy?”
Mason nodded. He grabbed some babywipes from a container by the desk, and he wiped the last few patches of blood off Buck’s face and his chest. “Used to be crazy and drunk. Now he’s sober. Still crazy.” Mason shrugged and patted Buck on his mountainous bicep. “You got blood on your underpants, you might want to-“
Buck dropped his tight-whites and threw them in the trash. “I got more.” He had a massive thirteen-inch cock, which unfurled from the pouch of his briefs like a length of rope. It was fat and jiggly, and it glistened with the sweat that made it cling to Buck’s powerful thigh.
That was a roughneck thing, getting naked at the drop of a hat. Mason was more shy than that. He did appreciate the male form though, and he liked getting to see the whole thing.
Buck stood there, smears of blood still on his powerful shoulders, cock dangling like a swollen salami. He looked like he thought Mason might have extra underwear for him to wear. Mason did not, and Buck was too big for ordinary underwear anyway — at well over six and a half feet tall, Buck had to shop in a specialty store.
“Oh, okay…” Mason’s eyes opened wide. He used his gloved hands to pick up the tight-whites from the trash and put them in the medical waste bin. “You have a big dick.” He blushed. “Sorry, I just…” He laughed as he dabbed up more of the blood off Buck’s chest. “Bet that thing gets in the way a lot, huh?”
Buck nodded. “I get stiffies all the time too, tell you what!” Buck laughed again. It made the fat of his cock jiggle and sway between his thighs. He flopped it around, making him laugh harder as it picked up speed. He helicoptered it back and forth between his thighs. Then he stopped and sighed. “Seems like I get stiffies mo’ now that I’s on rig and there ain’t no wimmin about. Wussup wit’ that?” He sucked on his teeth. “Mistah Chow think it’s cuzza Confucius!”
With a chortle, Mason said, “I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Mister Chow, the rig boss, did get after the roughnecks recently for general slovenliness, poor behavior and lack of virtue. One point Mister Chow made was that a lack of Confucian values in the West rendered them unable to control their urges.
And a lack of education made Buck unable to understand that complaint.
“I do love a Asian lady,” Buck said. His dick twitched as he looked dreamy for a moment. Then he blushed. “Sorry.”
Mason said, as casual as he could, so he didn’t seem overly eager. “I could help you with it. I’ll massage it, if you want.”
“Really? Aw, yeah, hot sheeit, you do that?” Buck said. He flapped his pecker in Mason’s direction. “Hell yeah. J’st don’t tell Lem. Or anywhom, but ‘specially not Lem. Lem do it too, he steady tryin’-a jack off wit’ me. I tells him he cain get me off any way he want, but I ain’t admire touchin’ his narsty old-feller dingdong. Feels like a sad baseball bat.” His cockfat jiggled as he spoke, bouncing up and down afront his pendulous balls. His eyes lit up like a little boy on Christmas. “You gonna use ya mouf?”
His cheeks burning, Mason nodded. “If you want.” He took off his bloody latex gloves.
“Hell yeah, I done went to prison, Mason. I know ’bout gettin’ off wit’ a feller,” Buck said. “I j’st don’t admire to touch Lem’s wigwam. If’n you tells him, he gonna be comin’ he’uh all the time! All the time like weather! He like that, he is like that, Mason.” He wagged a finger at Mason as if scolding Lem, then he stood up and waggled his dick in front of Mason’s face. He didn’t ram it in though, he just held it near Mason’s lips. The thick shaft felt hot — Buck ran warm and exuded heat like a furnace — even before Mason touched it, he could feel the heat coming off it.
His shaft was wide and long, more than a foot in length and thick like a bicep, not as thick as Buck’s massive bicep, as Buck worked in the drillhead antechamber. Mason didn’t know enough about the rig’s drilling technology to know what that meant, but the men who worked there were the strongest and thickest-bodied.
They didn’t all have massive uncut cocks like Buck though. Mason’s fingers curled around it. He felt Buck’s heart beating through the veins that ran from the shaft to the foreskin, which he pulled back to reveal the head. Buck remained standing, but he leaned back so Mason had to stretch his grip above his head to pull Buck off.
Mason held Buck’s dick in one hand, his heart racing. He loved jacking off — honestly, he preferred jacking off with men like Buck than he did fucking women. Roughecks often came to him to get jacked off on these rigs, but it was never really the ones he wanted.
Until now. Buck was tall and muscular, and his chest rippled at Mason’s touch. Once Mason built up a rhythm stroking him off, Buck sat on Mason’s bunk and leaned back, so Mason had easy access to his massive dick and his low-hanging balls that plopped onto the bunk mattress.
“Aaah, sheeit, I need this,” Buck said. He slitted his eyes shut, sighing though he didn’t get hard yet. His dick flopped in Mason’s hand like over-thick rope. Mason didn’t mind that at all. “I swan, you can’t even mention a woman without me gettin’ a hardon. The less I sees ’em, the more I need ’em.”
In fact, a lot of roughnecks had said something similar. If a man sees random women, clothed, going about their business, he doesn’t get random hardons. If the only women are the beautiful naked ones in his mind, then everytime someone says something, even something as simple as “my sister just graduated college”, he pictures the most beautiful woman ever, wearing nothing but a mortarboard.
As Buck’s eyes serioused up, his dick got firmer and firmer. Even before Mason got both hands on it, it was hard and throbbing. It was easily the biggest dick Mason had ever seen, and he’d seen plenty — men were always going around naked on oil rigs, when they were off-duty. Not so much this rig, cuz it was in the North Pacific and only the rooms, not the corridors, were heated. Few men were as big as Buck’s near seven-foot frame, so they mostly bundled up here.
But Buck was often shirtless and sometimes stripped down to heavy socks and underwear. Mason enjoyed the sight of muscular men, and Buck was a perfect specimen of that. His meaty, non-sixpacked body tasted savory like pizza dough, and Mason slurped sweat off Buck’s pecs. That made Buck laugh like a bear.
“Sheeit, you don’t gotta do that, Mason. I know it must taste baad!” Buck slapped one knee, making his cock jiggle and throb in Mason’s hand. His eyes were still closed.
“Just tryin’ to get you feelin’ good,” Mason said. His tongue ran down Buck’s furry belly, which stank of unwashed roughneck sweat, then all the way to his cock. Buck sucked in his breath when Mason’s tongue hit his shaft, and a long chest-rattling sigh chambered outta Buck’s chest.
The taste was salty and potent, and the veins on Buck’s cockshaft pulsated against Mason’s tongue. Mason licked from root to tip, then let his mouth slurp down to Buck’s apricot-sized balls, each of them heavy and swollen with unreleased cum. Mason took each ball in his mouth and let the hairy sac plop over his face.
“Dang, Mason!” Buck said with a deep chuckle. Mason pulled off his balls and blushed, but Buck kept his eyes closed, which helped Mason avoid feeling self-conscious.
Still kneeling in front of Buck, Mason put his knobtip in his mouth, and he teased his tongue around the piss-slit. His hands went up Buck’s chest to knead his expansive muscles. They all flexed and twitched beneath Mason’s grasp. His pecs were so firm, so strong and palpably hot to Mason’s touch, it made Mason moan with desire, the sound plugged up by Buck’s cock.
Buck sighed and leaned back on Mason’s bunk. “I miss my girlfriend Lucy. She lives back on Long Island. Seems so far away. She might as well be on Mars.”
“You’re from Long Island? I’m from Long Island,” Mason said, his voice garbled by Buck’s cock in his mouth. It tasted warm and hearty, Mason couldn’t get enough, with a faint tinge of saltiness growing stronger by the moment. As soon as he asked his question, he rammed his head down as deep as it could go. Which wasn’t that deep, at least not without a lot of work. It’s not easy to swallow a thirteen-inch cock as thick a muscular man’s wrist, especially since it wasn’t hard yet.
“I’s from West Virginney,” Buck said, eyes opening to watch Mason impale his own throat on his meat. His voice wavered as his cock squeezed into Mason’s throat, sending a wave of pleasure up his body. “But I been livin’ recent-like on Long Island. Tha’ss where’n I got recruited to work he’uh.” He threw his head back and subdued a moan, his hands fluttering above Mason’s head like he wanna throat him down but wouldn’t do it. His rod was rock-hard now, stabbing Mason at the back of the throat.
His shaft was so long that Mason could deep-throat it while also stroking it with both hands. He jerked it right into his own mouth.
As the precum started to really flow, Mason swallowed every drop he could. He let it pop outta his mouth and leak juices over his face. Buck couldn’t help but moan at that. His chest muscles rippled, and his pecs flexed. His arms gripped Mason’s head, then let go.
“You can force it down my throat, if you want,” Mason said softly, his voice moist from the flow of precum coating his tongue and gums. He let some of that gooey mess leak out and down Buck’s veiny shaft. “I’ll swallow it the best I can. It’s hard to force myself though-“
“Ah, sheeit, yeah, you into that?” Buck asked with a look of wide-eyed amazement. Mason nodded without taking the dick outta his mouth. Buck held onto the back of Mason’s head and forced his dick as deep as it could, not stopping even when Mason let out a choke. “Aaaah, goddamn…”
Though both men woulda dragged this out longer if they could, Buck was horny as heckfire — he ain’t barely bust a nut since he got here, cuz Lem was always around and Buck ain’t wanna jack off with him.
Buck’s muscled chest rippled as pleasure coursed through his veins, and the precum poured into Mason’s mouth. The taste was bright and sunny. Mason savored each drop he could get.
He couldn’t swallow it all, though he wanted to. Every couple seconds, Mason pulled off Buck, swallowed a mouthload of it and opened up again. The whole time Buck kept pushing his head back towards his spasming cocktip, eagerly forcing him back down. As soon as Mason could take a breath, he opened up again and went as deep down Buck’s veiny shaft as he could.
That triggered Buck’s sensitive cock. Buck’s baritone erupted in a long, warbling moan, as an initial burst of cum flowed like a fountain down Mason’s throat. He kept going as long as he could, but that wasn’t long, and that first wad kept going even when Mason choked it up. It filled his mouth, then overflowed back into Buck’s crotch.
Cum sprayed over Mason’s face, as he couldn’t help but spit it out to take a breath. Then he went right back to sucking on the tip, and Buck’s second cumwad overflowed his mouth. The taste was wild and clean, intensely salty. Mason loved the taste of jizz — he knew he was unusual in that, most men hated it, but he could swallow his fill and then swallow more.
“Aaah, ooooh…” Buck’s whole body writhed beneath Mason’s mouth.
He slurped it all down, as Buck shot a series of smaller and smaller cumloads — damn did he shoot big ones! Eventually though, just a few more drops dribbled into Mason’s mouth, and then at last Mason let it pop out past his lips.
His face coated in jizz, Mason blushed, the color covered by creamy white. He grabbed a paper towel to wipe himself off, as Buck stood. His cock rapidly softened afronta Mason’s face.
“Sheeit, thanks,” Buck said. “I feel a lot bettuh. You a good medic, Mason. Real good.” He twirled his glistening cock around between his legs, then wiped it off with a babywipe. He tossed it in the medical waste bin and heavyfooted outta the medic room. “Remembuh, don’t tell Lem. He that dumbass nasty trashy old homeboy who stink like a dirty doorknob. Don’t tell him nuttin’.”