The Jock

Avery is a masseur who finds himself servicing a studly if idiotic football jock! His name is Jimmy, he knows literally nothing and he’s desperate for someone to prove it’s possible to swallow every inch of his alpha male meat…

Can Avery satisfy Jimmy’s oral needs?

Read it now as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery Flowers rubbed lotion into his feet. The bottom of his feet sometimes got dry and cracked. It was awkward to do it himself because he couldn’t see where it was a problem, and he always ended up with a slippery foot afterwards. On the linoleum-tiled massage room floor at the Thackenswitch Center for Massage, that was problematic.
So when Jimmy Spokes strode in, Avery was surprised — he nearly toppled over and had to grab the counter to support himself. He wasn’t expecting anyone right now, and he lost his balance.
Plus, Jimmy was a burly jock with a studly physique. As a fervent admirer of the male form, he was immediately attracted to Jimmy’s body. Of course he didn’t know who Jimmy was yet, he was just a stranger striding into his massage room uninvited.
“Hey, you’re Avery, right?” Jimmy asked. He cocked his head to the side and tapped his feet on the ground. He had a big round face — not chiseled or handsome like an action movie star, but jolly and earnest and strong. He was naturally powerful though he didn’t have a perfect body. He had a hefty frame, a barrel-shaped chest and plenty of meat to his body. He looked like he was naturally very fat, but only had an athletic shape because he was so high-energy. He was a tight end on the GHU football team.
“Uh… Hey.” Avery furrowed his brow at the shapely intruder.
“I don’t think it’s a big deal, I know she thinks I’m embarrassed, but I’m not.” Jimmy paused. “Okay, I am.” He laughed and turned red, his lightly Southern accent echoing against the high ceilings. “Okay, just… Are you okay? You don’t have to do this.”
Avery had been momentarily distracted by Jimmy’s physique. Now he thought he must have missed something. He didn’t know what Jimmy was talking about.
“Uh… what?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Avery said. “Oh… Wait, you mean Elaine Gambrill? You’re Jimmy?”
He beamed and pounded on his chest, then took off his shirt. His chest was set with huge strapping muscles. “That’s right.” He paused. “Sorry, I don’t know how to do this. Am I supposed to kiss you?” He blushed as red as a cranberry. “I can’t do that! Don’t make me do that! I’m like… I’m not allowed to kiss you, on account of, because of, the reason… See, I, uh… “
“Okay, Jimmy, tell me what you’re talking about. Where’s Elaine?”
“I just don’t want to kiss you.”
“Why was that ever the plan!?”
“It wasn’t!” He hopped up onto the massage table like it was an exam table and he was waiting for his doctor. He laid there with his hands behind his head. “Hey, you watch football, right? I was trying to get Elaine to come over to watch a game and she was being ridiculous. She said football is as boring as watching paint fly, which I think would be amazing, I’d totally watch paint fly. If it was blue, you’d never see it. If you were outside. And it wasn’t cloudy. And it was daytime. Or if it was nighttime, you’d never see it either, but for a different reason.”
“Ah. Okay.” Avery sighed. Elaine had said her new boyfriend was an idiot — she had said it much more nicely and hadn’t used the i-word, but now that Avery had met him, he knew exactly what Elaine had been hinting at.
There was a loud banging knock on the door and a hoot like someone was watching a stripper. Avery was startled, but Jimmy just guffawed. He got up and opened the door. He stuck his head out into the hall and laughed. “Fuck you, George! Get outta here! You’re the pansy!” He turned around and smiled at Avery. “Sorry, was that offensive words? He’s just a total retard. So it’s not offensive. Don’t tell Elaine.”
“Okay. Jimmy, Jimmy, please tell me what you’re here for. Do you want a massage?”
He had a big silly grin on his goofy face. “Oh wow, yeah! Can you do that?”
“Yes, Jimmy. This is a massage parlor. You have to pay. Elaine didn’t tell you I’d do it for free, did she?”
“Not the massage! But I’m not paying for the… other thing.” Jimmy blushed again. He bit his lip. “Is that… ? Sorry, are you…?”
“Jimmy, please just say it. What the hell is going on?”
“Didn’t Elaine tell you?”
“No! No! I’ve told you that, I said it before! If I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t have a face like a confused white guy, would I?”
He laughed again, or rather he continued to laugh, since he hadn’t stopped since he walked in, his deep barrel-shaped voice echoing in the massage room. “Okay, well, I… You’re supposed to, like… jerk me off.” He paused and licked his lips, his ruddy face breaking out in sweat. “Sorry, I guess I thought she told you. Oh, I am supposed to give you this. Is that right?” He pulled a jockstrap out of his pocket and handed it to Avery. “What do you do with that? It’s too big for you. Can you really sell that?”
“Oh.” Avery took the jockstrap. It was used, stained with sweat, and he could smell the unwashed musk of it already. He was too confused still to really think about what was going on. “What? I’m supposed to sell this? Like online?”
“Online? I guess, I don’t care. Is that a rule?”
Avery sighed. “Jimmy, why did you give this to me?”
“Elaine said I had to.”
“Did she give you a reason?”
“She said you would like it,” he said. “She didn’t say why.”
“Ah, okay. Thank you for explaining that,” Avery said. He rolled his eyes. He had made a joke once to Elaine about how he would like to sniff her boyfriend’s jock — that hadn’t been Jimmy, she was dating a different big buff athlete then — and she constantly brought it up. Avery blushed a little because she wasn’t exactly wrong; he’d probably sniff that and jack off later. He was hardly a jockstrap-enthusiast though.
“So you’re not going to sell it?”
“Sell it? No. It’s not-“
“So what do you do with it? Is it a collection?”
“A collection? Jimmy-“
He must have realized there was a sexual component then because his eyes opened wide and he jumped to his feet. He jumped up and down. “Oh it’s a… Oh shit!” He opened the door. “Hey, George! He’s gonna sniff it or something, I think. It’s like, he’s into sweat!”
George was out in the waiting room. He said something Avery couldn’t hear, but it sounded like he and Jimmy had been brainstorming theories as to why the jockstrap was important.
Jimmy went back to the massage table and sat down. He took his shoes and socks off. “I’m glad Elaine didn’t tell you to jerk me off. She might have told you to do it badly. Will you tell her I did it right? Tell her I asked about her. No, wait, tell her I was a good listener. Tell her I told you about the thing… about her job. Tell her I told you what she told me about her job.”
“What?”
“About her boss, he’s like… Jerry, I think. He, uh… She doesn’t like him. There’s a whole thing — I don’t remember, but tell her I said it. Tell her I was listening,” he said. He took his football jersey off and tossed it on the floor. His broad chest muscles were covered in scruffy tufts of fur.
“Listening to what?”
“To her!” He had a big grin like he thought Avery should already know what he was talking about.
“You mean the attendance policy at work? Jerry changed the rules about how much notice she has to give for time off.”
He nodded. “Yeah, that. Tell her I told you about that. Tell her I listen to her.”
“Jimmy… You aren’t really making much sense. Elaine told you to come see me, give me a jockstrap and you want me to tell her that you told me about her job, even though she didn’t.”
“She did!”
“You weren’t listening?”
“I was! I was trying! There was a football game on! Or, I mean, I was playing a football game on my X-Box. It was on the TV,” Jimmy said. “And you have to jerk me off.”
“What?”
“That’s the whole thing!”
“Oh my god, Jimmy, talking to you is like talking to the Cheshire Cat if it smoked a lot of weed. I’m supposed to jerk you off?”
“Yes!” He blushed again. He realized Avery was looking at his bare chest. “Hey, do you think…?” His eyes opened wide. “Oh shit, my neighbor’s like that! Whenever I lift weights he comes out and he has that look on his face!” He shrugged. “You might know him. Like… Spencer or something? He’s an… office… guy? He does something with paper. He uses a computer, I think. Maybe not all the time. Or is it a museum? Do people work in museums?”
“Jimmy, why did Elaine want you to get dome from me?”
“Oh,” he blushed and bit his lip. He jumped back up on the massage table, wearing only dirty jeans. “She said no one can deep-throat it cuz it’s too big.” He beamed proudly. “She said you’ll prove it. You swallow dick better than anyone. She said if you can’t deep-throat it, I can’t ask her to do it ever again.”
“Oh.” It was Avery’s turn to blush. He was a little annoyed that Elaine hadn’t told him first, but then, he suspected that she didn’t plan for it to happen that way. Jimmy was annoying because he had assumed Avery already knew the plan; Elaine no doubt assumed Jimmy would be nice and politely ask Avery to jerk him off. Jimmy assumed somebody else had made all the arrangements.
“You do it up the ass, right?” Jimmy asked. Then he blurted out, “Not me! I mean, I don’t wanna do anal, that’s not why I’m asking. Can you tell Elaine to do it? Tell her I’ll use lots of lube. Tell her it doesn’t always hurt-“
“Jimmy, hush.”
“Tell her that, okay? Come on, I can do it. I had a girl give up the ass once. She loved it.” He leaned in and whispered to Avery, “She was black. Is that okay? Can I say that?”
“Jimmy, be quiet,” Avery said, shaking his head. “Just stop talking. I’ll jerk you off if you stop talking.”
Jimmy did lean back, but only for a half-second before he got up and opened the door again. “Hey, George, he’s doing it! He’s gonna do it!” He laughed at whatever George said. “No way, man, you’d do that! You want it so bad! We all saw you with that fat girl!”
Avery grabbed Jimmy around the waist and pulled him away from the door. Jimmy’s strapping body tensed beneath Avery’s body because he tried to get back out in the hall. Avery dragged him in. “This is a spa, Jimmy, please stop shouting through the halls.”
“Okay, sorry, I was just telling George that we all know he fucked a fat girl, we saw her-“
“Stop, shut up. I know what you were saying. I was there,” Avery said. “Sit down and lean back.”
“Okay. I like fat girls. You’re bossy like Elaine is. You two must hang out bossing each other around,” Jimmy said. “Don’t tell her I said that. I meant it in a good way. Tell her that.” He paused. “Don’t tell her-“
“Jimmy, shut up. I’ll decide what to tell her about today.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. He had just gotten back on the massage table, leaning back and about to pull his pants down when he sat up once more. He looked at the Delaware state flag on the wall (this massage parlor was owned by a Delawarean who was proud of his state for unfathomable reasons). “Is that… a flag?”
Avery rolled his eyes. “Sure is. Nothing gets past you,” Avery said with a sigh. “Elaine needs to sew your mouth shut.”
“No, I lick her pussy and I do a good job and I-“
“Jesus Christ, stop talking about vaginas. Lift your ass up, Jimmy.”
He did lift himself up so Avery could undo his belt and pull his pants down. “Okay, I was just gonna ask if you could-“
“I know what you were asking.”
“-talk Elaine into doing something hot so I could watch. She could do something with other girls. You’d have to provide the girls,” he said.
“I’ll check my pantry,” Avery said. His annoyance disappeared at the sight of Jimmy’s massive manhood. He had been so distracted it hadn’t really occurred to him that Elaine sent him here to prove that he couldn’t be deep-throated, which would only be an issue if he had a huge cock. Now that he thought about it, Elaine had mentioned it was more than a foot long and as thick as a coke can. Avery had assumed that was just bragging, but, it seemed, it was real.
“See, it’s big, huh?” Jimmy got up, limp cock flopping all over, to go to the door and say something to George again. But his pants were around his ankles, a fact that he forgot until he toppled to the ground. “Ah shit.” He groaned. “I fell.”
“Jimmy…” Avery sighed.
Jimmy struggled to stand again. He blushed. “Sorry. I was gonna tell George you were impressed by it. George always says no one wants to see that, he says I have an ugly cock like a dead cricket bat. It doesn’t even make sense. He says I shouldn’t whip it out.” He made it to the door this time. “Hey, George! He said-“
Avery clamped one hand over Jimmy’s mouth. “Jimmy, shut the fuck up. Quit yelling in my massage parlor.”
Jimmy turned around and shuffled back into the room, pants around his ankles and huge cock swaying between his legs. “Sorry. I just wanted to tell George you thought it was the biggest you’ve ever seen.”
“I… didn’t say that.”
Jimmy hopped back up onto the table. His dick bobbed around like a wand. “Hey, can black guys be werewolves?”
It was such a non-sequitur that Avery could do little more than do a double-take and ignore the question. He was excited to finally start on Jimmy’s cock. He shivered in anticipation when he touched Jimmy’s the shaft, which was fleshy and warm. He gave it a stroke.
Jimmy giggled. “Ah, that tickles.” He paused. “So what do you think, can black guys be werewolves?”
“I don’t understand the question. Werewolves aren’t real.”
“So?”
“So… no. Black guys can not be werewolves. No one can,” Avery said. “Can I just jerk you off now?”
“Yeah, fine, go for it,” Jimmy said. Then he shouted towards the door. “Hey, George-!” He stopped himself. He fished his cell phone out of his pants, which were around his ankles, so reaching down there almost made him fall off the table. If he didn’t have such a powerful upper body, he probably would have fallen. “I’ll text him so I don’t have to shout.” Then he did shout anyway, he just aimed it at his cell phone as he typed out his message. “You can’t have black werewolves, George!”
Avery stroked his dick. He hoped focusing on that would make Jimmy focus on his dick. If he got hard, Avery thought, Jimmy would have to pay attention.
“We’re going to write a movie. It’s about werewolves. Werewolves are really cool. Our movie’s gonna have, like, so much shit, it’ll be great. We watch all the action movies, man, we got it figured out. We’re experts. We’re totally going to do this. It’s not just werewolves, there’s like… helicopters. And some girl stuff too, don’t worry, like there’s a science chick and some romance shit, and like… and, uh… like there’ll be scenes where people just talk. And, uh, shadows. And colors. So it’ll be cool. We’re gonna call it Primal Power. It’s gonna be badass. There’s aliens too.”
His dick was getting hard, even though Jimmy seemed to be paying no attention to it. He looked like he thought Avery might invest in this movie if he just described it well enough. Avery had literally no money, but Jimmy didn’t consider that possibility. Avery got down lower and planted his lips on it. The taste of his funky cock, mixed with faint, watered-down cologne, flooded Avery’s senses.
That got Jimmy’s attention. He looked down, seemingly surprised by what was happening. Then he moaned and his dick twitched. “No vampires in the movie, George is wrong about that, no way am I putting vampires in… oh, damn that feels good.” Avery resolved to stop responding to him at all. Jimmy would have to stop talking once his dick was fully hard and in Avery’s mouth.
It was so thick and long it didn’t even feel real at first. Soon it was hard as steel, throbbing and pulsating beneath Avery’s tongue. Avery slathered spit up and down. For the first time since he had walked in, Jimmy was quiet for a few moments.
“Oh shit, man, I can’t believe you’re doing it,” Jimmy said. He laughed. “Hey, George! He’s doin’ it!” He laughed sheepishly. “My dick’s hard.” The he moaned again and his voice broke. “Ah, fuck, fuck, my dick’s real hard.”
“It’s so big,” Avery said with a smirk and a smile. It was hard to believe how huge it was. Jimmy was a big boy, so it almost didn’t seem as big as it really was — it didn’t go all the way to his knees, for example, because he was so tall, so until Avery touched it, it didn’t seem as big as others he had touched. But now that he stroked its veiny shaft, it was clear that this was bigger than any dick he had touched before. On a short man, it would have reached to his knees and maybe even past that.
“I got a donkey dick,” Jimmy said with a silly leer, a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “That’s what Coach Marshall says.”
“He’s right.” Avery tried to deep-throat him, but it was obvious that couldn’t happen. He’d have struggled to deep-throat a cock half this size.
“You can’t do it?” Jimmy said. He shrugged and sighed. “Can you tell Elaine you did?”
“She’d just make me demonstrate it on a zucchini or something,” Avery said. “She wouldn’t believe me. She’s smaller than me, Jimmy. If I can’t deep-throat you, she can’t either.”
“Man…” He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
Avery swallowed as deep as he could. He enjoyed struggling to deep-throat a man, and Jimmy was perfect. When Avery’s fingers crawled up Jimmy’s powerful chest to tweak his nipples, Jimmy’s eyes opened wide like he was shocked. He watched his pecs ripple beneath Avery’s grasp.
A painful-sounded strangled cry erupted in Jimmy’s throat. His balls crawled up in his sac, and that entire cockshaft pulsated in Avery’s mouth. The flavor of salty cum hit him just seconds before the first jet of juices hit the back of his throat. It trickled down his gullet.
“Ah shit, man, ah shit, I’m sorry!” He groaned and grabbed Avery’s head, holding him in place as he drained a massive load into Avery’s throat.
Salty sweet cum flooded Avery’s senses. He guzzled down every drop, as Jimmy continued to apologize — it soon became apparent that Elaine (and probably other girlfriends in the past) had demanded that Jimmy not shoot in her mouth. With a big dick and low-hanging balls like that, that made sense to Avery. Jimmy apparently assumed that Avery felt the same way.
Instead, Avery loved cum. He would have gladly swallowed even more of it. Its creamy richness coated his belly and the sour flavor enlivened his senses.
He sighed as he pulled back. Jimmy let out an even louder, more grandiose sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, while Avery slurped the last remnants of cum off his dick. Jimmy’s broad muscles twitched and he grunted.
“How was that?”
“Ah, hell yeah, man,” Jimmy said. His red face looked relaxed, ready to go to sleep. But he swung his legs to the ground and ran to the door again. He stepped out into the hall, cum-dripping cock still half-hard and jutting out from his hefty body. “Hey George! I did it! He couldn’t deep-throat me either, man, you were wrong! His throat isn’t infinitely big and I didn’t feel his Adam’s apple and he said the movie sounds amazing, but black guys can’t be werewolves, you dummy!”
“Jimmy! Shut up!”
Jimmy blushed as he realized he had walked out stark naked, dick still dripping fluids onto the floor. No one else was in the hall, but there was an old lady in the waiting room peering towards Jimmy as though trying to figure out if he was naked or not. She squinted through her glasses. Jimmy darted back into the massage room.
“Ah, man, that old lady totally saw my knob. Hey George! Did you see that old lady, she totally-?”
“Jimmy, shut up! Put your clothes on! Or I’m telling Elaine you’re a terrible listener.”
“Okay, fine, fine, sorry, geez,” he said. He giggled. “Oh, yeah, can you tell Elaine I take, uh, academics seriously? Tell her I study a lot. And I shower every day.”
“Just put your clothes on.” Avery sighed, glad to have Jimmy finally leave. He hadn’t even gotten his clothes all the way on, still pulling his pants up when he got distracted and ran into the hall. He shouted for George, tripped on his pants and rammed into the wall, where he knocked a painting of a lighthouse off the wall.
“Sorry,” Jimmy said absent-mindedly. He headed out into the waiting room. “He did it, George! I told you he would!”
Avery shook his head. He got out his cell phone. He was going to text Elaine something about her idiot boyfriend.

The Barbershop

Desmond becomes an unlikely hero when he saves the day at the barbershop he works in, and he gets a reward he never dreamed of — he gets his choice of men! He chooses his boss, a big burly man who would never bend over and take it… or would he?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

When the tall Jamaican thug walked into the Cityside Barbershop, Desmond wasn’t interested at first. He seemed like nothing more than another customer. A part of Desmond’s mind realized that the man had long, thick and unkempt dreadlocks — he obviously wasn’t here for a haircut.
But Desmond was deep in to an anecdote, talking to a handsome young man named Lamar as he finished giving Lamar a haircut. Desmond thought that if he played his cards right, he might be able to jerk Lamar off after the haircut.
And then it all changed — the Jamaican man pulled out his gun. He pointed it at Isaiah, the barber who was standing at the register at that moment. Isaiah yelped but did as he was told, taking all the money from the drawer and putting it in a bag. Desmond wanted to scream; he was so close that he could see the sweat beading on the Jamaican’s neck, and he could have reached out to pull on those dreadlocks.
The Jamaican got the money. It all only took a few seconds. He turned to flee out the door, put the gun in the waistband of his pants and ran. Desmond reacted without a second thought. He stuck his foot out.
He tripped the Jamaican man as he fled across the threshold. There was a loud splat as the Jamaican landed face-first on the concrete, dreadlocks akimbo. His jaw shattered, and he spent the next nine months in the hospital. He was still there when he was convicted of armed robbery. Rupert Alan was his name. It was all instinct. Desmond gave it literally no thought. He saw the possibility of tripping the man and did it without considering whether it would work or backfire — a lot could have gone wrong. Rupert could have avoided the trip and shot Desmond in anger, he could have dropped the gun and it went off, he could have gone on a shooting spree. If Desmond had thought about it, he wouldn’t have done it.
But he didn’t think about it, and he did do it, and that was how Desmond became an unlikely hero for the Cityside Barbershop, when all he wanted in the crucial moment was to swing on Lamar’s big fat dick (which he didn’t end up getting to do because the cops showed up and put a damper on the excitement). The whole thing happened so fast.
The other barbers treated him like a champion, especially Isaiah, but the one who was most appreciative was Johnny Cee. Johnny Cee owned this location of the Cityside Barbershop, so he was the one who had the most to lose if Rupert Alan made away with the day’s take.
“You really saved my hide, Desmond, damn,” Johnny Cee said over and over when he showed up an hour later. “Damn… My fuckin’ business insurance lapsed this month. Havin’ cash flow problems. If I’d got robbed, I’d have lost the shop for sure. No way I would have been able to keep goin’. How can I repay you, my man?”
But Desmond didn’t know how he could be repaid (aside from the obvious, money, which Johnny Cee said he simply couldn’t afford), nor did he even especially want it. He was happy to be treated like a celebrity all night. The others bought him drinks and clapped him on the back until they all stumbled home in the darkness of night.
When Desmond showed up for his shift the next morning, however, he was surprised to find the entire chain there, even Isaiah, who was supposed to be off today. They clapped and hooted when Desmond walked in.
He blushed and lowered his eyes. He liked being the center of attention, but this was becoming ridiculous. Then Johnny Cee stepped forward and cleared his throat. He stammered as he waited for the others to quiet down.
“Uh, hey… Desmond, I uh… I was talkin’ to the guys, and y’know, I can’t pay you a bonus, not even a dime. I’m sorry about that,” he said. “But I was wonderin’… I’d like to give you something. So, uh, as yo’ reward, I was gonna say… if you want… you can pick a nigga, and he gonna… you know… do whatever, even… you know, take some dick… or… y’know, on the bottom.” He looked relieved to have finally gotten that out.
All barbers looked at him like they were awaiting news on which of them had cancer. Desmond giggled and blushed. “So, I get to pick one of you, and you’ll jerk me off, take it in the ass, everything?”
They all nodded, and Desmond’s giggle turned into a cackle. They were treating this like such a serious offer, like they were choosing who had to take the fall and go to prison for a crime they had all committed.
“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Desmond said grandly, raising his arms in a long, low sweeping motion. “Johnny Cee, I thank you for your kind offer. And I choose you.” He didn’t even have to think about it. He loved older daddies like Johnny Cee, whose beard was tinged with exactly two strands of gray. He had a deliciously thick body, with just the right amount of meat in just the right places. Johnny Cee was also the only one here who had never gotten dome from Desmond on the downlow.
Johnny Cee made this offer assuming Desmond would pick one of the young handsome muscle-boys with dimples. But Desmond had tasted their meats already. What he wanted was Johnny Cee himself.
Everyone else whooped and hollered. Johnny Cee chortled. “Damn… I thought you’d pick someone younger, nigga.” He lowered his eyes, avoiding meeting anyone’s gaze.
Desmond laughed and took Johnny Cee by the hand, then gestured for him to lead the way into the backroom. He did so, and as Desmond followed he squealed with a leering grin aimed at the other barbers.
The sound of clapping only died out when the door swung shut behind Desmond. He followed Johnny Cee through the darkened supply area to a small spot with a chair and a bit of carpet. This was where Desmond plied his trade. There used to be porn magazines around, but Johnny Cee had made Desmond throw them away. They made it look unprofessional, he had said, though now he looked rather like he had regretted that decision.
Johnny Cee dropped to his knees as Desmond sat down. Johnny Cee sighed and smiled. “Damn, boy, you smell like a girl. Thanks fo’ that, it does help. You smell like a stripper.”
Desmond grinned. He wore women’s perfume to work for precisely that effect. Johnny Cee had to awkwardly stoop, he was simply too tall to bend right over Desmond’s lap and be able to take his dick in his mouth. Desmond felt a surge of guilt as he saw Johnny Cee’s face — he looked like he had just eaten an extra-sour pickle, and he hadn’t even tasted dick yet, he just undid Desmond’s pants and pulled them down. Desmond awkward lifted his hips to give him space to work on his pants. Johnny Cee averted his eyes when Desmond’s big brown dick flopped out. It looked like he had hoped that Desmond’s little twink body came with a little bitty dick, which was far from the truth.
“You know… you ain’t really gotta do this,” Desmond said. “Just lemme jerk you off. That’s all the thanks I need. I been wantin’ to taste your meat since I started here, nigga.”
“I know. I seen the way you look at me,” he said with a growl — he didn’t like it when Desmond used the n-word. Desmond blushed. “But I don’t mind. I gotta show my appreciation. You really saved my bacon.”
“Aw, your bacon is sexy, Johnny Cee. I’ll always save it.”
“This ain’t the first time I done this. Don’t tell the others.” He nodded to the front room, where nervous laughter could be heard — they were no doubt whispering about what Johnny Cee was doing in here. Johnny Cee took a deep breath. “I… Before I got married, me and my buddy Mando used to trade dome on the downlow.”
“Really? Mando Ray?” Desmond had trouble picturing that.
“This was befo’ Mando got real fat.”
“It’d pretty much have to be,” Desmond said.
Johnny Cee nodded, opened his mouth, scrunched up his nose and swallowed Desmond’s dick in one smooth motion. The smoothness only lasted a moment though, because he was overwhelmed by gagging when Desmond’s shaft penetrated the back of Johnny Cee’s throat.
“Swallow it, Johnny Cee!”
“Make him your bitch, Desmond! Fist him!”
It sounded like they were laughing so hard they were crying. There was more catcalling going on, but most of it was drowned out by a torrent of laughter and jeers. Johnny Cee often badmouthed them — reminding them of their religious obligations, mainly — when they were back here receiving dome, so it sounded like they all wanted to return the favor now.
“I’m tellin’ Reverend Chandler! He gonna punish the fuck outta you, Johnny Cee!”
“Maybe Reverend Chandler will go up your behind next! He could ram the repentance into ya!”
Johnny Cee tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, like he barely noticed it at all. His eyes were downcast and dark as he pushed his head up and down on Desmond’s shaft. His mouth was warm and wet, and it sent a shiver of desire through Desmond’s body. The whole situation was such a surprise that Desmond didn’t get hard right away, as though his body had forgotten how to react in all the confusion.
But as Johnny Cee’s tongue began stroking up and down Desmond’s shaft, he fell into the old groove again — he had been a bottom for a long time, and Desmond hadn’t received dome in nearly six months. He had never received dome from a big burly daddy-bear like Johnny Cee.
His hands roamed onto the back of Johnny Cee’s head. He had thick, kinky black hairs that were cut short, which was unfortunate, Desmond thought, as he would have liked to hold on as Johnny Cee got more and more into it. He gradually stopped gagging, though he never lost that sour-lemon look on his face. Then Desmond’s hands explored lower, sneaking under Johnny Cee’s shirt and caressing his rippling back-flesh.
“Can you take off your shirt?” Desmond asked, feeling uncertain that Johnny Cee would do it. Maybe that would seem too weird? Almost romantic? He wasn’t sure. Alphas had such weird rules about this sort of thing. But, Desmond thought with a sigh, that was part of what he loved about them.
“You feel spermies tryin’-a impregnate yo’ rectum, Johnny Cee? Hope you’s on the pill!”
Johnny Cee lifted his head and frowned as he unbuttoned his shirt, removed it and lifted his wifebeater over his head. He had a strong, thick-muscled body with a hairy barrel-shaped chest, his thick arms jiggling as he paused with his shirts in his hand. He had just one tattoo, the Lord’s Prayer in flowing script on his right bicep. He said a brief prayer, then leaned forward and kissed Desmond on the lips.
Desmond was so shocked he didn’t kiss back at first. That was one of the rules that most niggas at the Cityside Barbershop never broke — no kissing. They might even lick Desmond’s ass to lube it up, jack him off as a favor, taste his cum by accident, touch dicks with a nigga during a gangbang, maybe even let someone finger his ass while he was knee-deep in some pussy.
But none of them would kiss a man, except, it seemed, for Johnny Cee. His burly body pressed heavily down on Desmond’s thin chest as they made out, Desmond wrapping his arms around Johnny Cee’s body and clinging on.
They stopped only when Johnny Cee’s cell phone buzzed. He looked at the screen and growled in frustration, and the men in the frontroom burst into laughter again — obviously, they had sent him a teasing message.
“Whatchoo think, Johnny Cee? I know a pimp who’d treat you right!”
Desmond wanted to ask what it said, but before he could, Johnny Cee kissed him again. His grizzled chin was rough and scratchy, his tongue awkwardly flailing about. It was a weird kiss, Desmond thought, especially since he was so much smaller than Johnny Cee — it felt like he was a child again, being kissed by a giant, like Johnny Cee could open his mouth wider at any moment and swallow Desmond whole.
Then Johnny Cee undid his pants, let them fall and dropped his shorts as well. His heavy dick was thick, juicy, and not totally limp, which made Desmond giggle: Johnny Cee was more aroused by this than he let on.
Desmond stroked Johnny Cee to full erection as they kissed, and then Desmond licked his way down to Johnny Cee’s pecs. He looked like he had probably had a six-pack and a mountainous chest when he was younger, but now there was a perfectly thick layer of flesh atop his body, which hadn’t lost a lick of power since then. That was just the way Desmond liked it. He liked the massive meat of Johnny Cee’s middle-aged frame, and he enjoyed the way it nervously quivered as Johnny Cee got more and more into it.
Every fiber of Desmond’s body said he should start jerking Johnny Cee off, but Desmond didn’t want to, even though his dick was hard as steel and already oozing precum into Desmond’s fingers. This was an opportunity that wouldn’t likely happen again, and Desmond wasn’t going to squander it.
“Alright, be gentle,” Johnny Cee said. He sighed and turned around, his pants still around his ankles so he had to shuffle awkwardly. He bent over like a prisoner submitting to his cellmate: he put his hands on the floor and stuck his ass in the air.
Desmond giggled. “You greatly overestimate my height, Johnny Cee,” he said. Johnny Cee’s ass towered above Desmond’s head where he sat in the chair.
“Oh yeah,” he said with a grunt. “Mando was taller than me.” He lowered his ass slowly, yelping in surprise when Desmond’s fingers gripped those big hairy orbs. He grinned at Johnny Cee’s reaction. Johnny Cee winced and turned his head to face Desmond. “Yo’ fingers are cold, man.”
Desmond clucked like a mother hen. “Sorry, baby, lemme warm ‘em up.” He breathed on his fingers, then caressed Johnny Cee’s asscrack. Johnny Cee shuddered and stopped moving, his back flat and ass right at the level of the chair in which Desmond said.
“Make his ass bleed, Desmond! If you ram him hard enough, he’ll learn to love it!:
His skin was marked with hair and rough spots, which Desmond loved. He kissed both asscheeks and spat into the dark, funky hole. Then he dove his head in to get it loosened up.
The taste was musty and masculine, dripping with salty sweat and the flavor of coconut oil-scented soap. It was a decidedly feminine kind of soap, Desmond thought, no doubt chosen by Johnny Cee’s wife. His tongue plunged in to that tight, dark hole and explored it as Johnny Cee stiffened his entire body in response.
A loud, foundation-shaking moan escaped from Johnny Cee’s lips. He cut it off when he realized the niggas in the frontroom could hear and were guffawing as though they had never heard anything like that (which was very possibly true — Desmond had never heard that kind of moan either). Johnny Cee’s asshole bloomed, loosened and opened up all at once, while his dick spasmed and leaked precum even with no one touching it.
Then Desmond stood, ready to begin the actual ramrodding. Johnny Cee breathed fast, tense, and hung his head low. Desmond couldn’t believe this was happening, and he kept thinking that Johnny Cee was going to back out. He stood on the chair, looking over Johnny Cee’s broad, rippling back.
“Uh… damn…” Desmond said. “I, uh, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Well you’re the expert. Don’t ask me for help,” Johnny Cee snapped.
“I know, I know. It’s just you so big. Normally I’d give you a reacharound but I don’t even know if I can reach,” Desmond said.
“Don’t worry about that. Once you get into me, I ain’t gonna have a boner no more,” Johnny Cee said. His voice sounded clipped and annoyed.
Desmond didn’t think that was true, but he wasn’t about to argue. He decided to just go for it. He kneeled on the edge of the chair and wedged his dick between Johnny Cee’s asscheeks, which he pulled apart with both hands.
As soon as his dick entered him, Johnny Cee grunted, bit his lip and threw his head back. Desmond lightly caressed his meaty back muscles, or at least the lower third of his back, which was all Desmond could reach.
He tried to gyrate his hips, but with himself sitting on the chair and Johnny Cee lowering his ass onto him, that wasn’t too easy to do. His dick couldn’t move much in this position. That didn’t detract from the intense pleasure he felt as Johnny Cee’s tight asshole clenched around his dick. A wave of exquisite sensations rollicked through Desmond’s petite frame.
“Did you and Mando ever share any ass?” Desmond asked, his voice tight because he had a behemoth riding his cock.
Johnny Cee shook his head but didn’t answer. He groaned and sighed. Desmond suspected that meant the answer was: not in any way that counts, meaning we did it when we was drunk, stoned, in prison or homeless, or some combination thereof. Johnny Cee’s ass pinched and flexed as he struggled to take all of Desmond’s dick.
When it became clear that it wasn’t going to work like this, Desmond used the chair for leverage. He thought he’d ride Johnny Cee to the ground and just hump him there on the floor, but that wasn’t what happened — Johnny Cee easily supported Desmond’s weight.
So Desmond clutched his thick back and held on as he began working his dick in and out. He was completely off the chair, riding Johnny Cee like a piggy-back ride, just lower down on Johnny Cee’s back. He stayed bent over, on his hands and feet with his ass still high in the air.
Johnny Cee was so tall that he seemed to take up an impossible amount of room, filling the tiny space Desmond had set aside for jerking off horny men. He had never thought he’d use this space to top anyone.
As Desmond humped, Johnny Cee bit his lip to avoid crying out. The men in the front room were quiet now except for a few scattered giggles. Desmond had been back here often enough to know what that meant — they were listening at the door but not talking about what they heard, probably because there was a child in the shop. It was just past nine, after all, so the Cityside Barbershop was open now.
Johnny Cee staggered and bumped into a shelf, nearly knocking it over. A box full of unsold doo rags fell onto Desmond and scattered over the floor. Johnny Cee was breathing heavy, having trouble supporting himself not because Desmond was so heavy but because Johnny Cee was jacking himself off as he took it up the ass, which meant he only used one hand to support his body now.
That suggested that he was hard. Desmond wanted to point out that Johnny Cee’s prediction was proven incorrect, as he had known it would be, but his own pleasure was too intense to stop. The more he humped, the more frenzied was Johnny Cee’s reaction.
“Damn, get it in me, man…” Johnny Cee said softly. He grunted and heaved, stumbling throughout the room and bumping into the walls head-first. The emotions galloping across his tense face were equal parts agony, pride, humiliation and jaw-dropping bliss. Johnny Cee’s entire body reacted to each thrust of Desmond’s dick inside him, tension rolling up and down his flesh from head to toe and back again. His face, when he looked behind himself so Desmond could see it, was ruddy and covered with sweat, eyes bugging out of their sockets.
When Johnny Cee clenched hard on Desmond’s dick, Desmond didn’t know why. He just knew it sent a crescendo of pleasure up his spine, and Desmond grunted so loud the sound overpowered Johnny Cee’s reactions for a moment. But then it was clear why Johnny Cee had clenched down — he was cumming.
That much was a surprise. Desmond knew that most men would get hard when being rammed, simply due to prostate stimulation, that was why Desmond had disbelieved Johnny Cee’s prediction that he’d remain soft. But he was shocked that Johnny Cee had managed to cum while Desmond still pounded his ass.
“Aw, fuck yeah, nigga…”
But there was no mistaking the cummy smell that filled the area, and the intense moan that came from Johnny Cee’s throat. Someone applauded outside the room, leading to another burst of laughter. Johnny Cee tried to cover up his pleasurable groaning with a cough, but his coughing spasm sent a shiver of pain up his spine as it made Desmond’s dick grind even deeper into his ass.
That was it for Desmond, who couldn’t hold back anymore. He dug his nails into the flesh of Johnny Cee’s back while an intense orgasm rocketed through his body. It grew in waves, each successive outpouring of pleasure more incredible than the last. With his face buried in the meaty middle of Johnny Cee’s back, Desmond felt like he was ensconced in masculine flesh in a way he hadn’t felt even when being rammed all over by big men in the past. For a moment, he and Johnny Cee might as well have been one person.
Desmond yelped and squirmed atop Johnny Cee’s body, and he even bit at the flesh of his back when the intensity of his climax was too overwhelming for Desmond to accept. Johnny Cee didn’t even seem to notice the bite.
At long last it was over. Johnny Cee was perfectly still now, stooped over so his back was flat. He breathed heavily, waiting for Desmond to finish. Desmond was still too exhausted to react, so he remained there as his dick softened inside Johnny Cee’s ass. He tightly gripped Johnny Cee’s body, which he still clung to like a small adult riding a giant stallion. Johnny Cee cleared his throat, but Desmond still remained right there.
Then Desmond let go of his back, which made Johnny Cee let out a sigh of relief. That sigh accelerated as Desmond slid down and his cock finally plopped out of Johnny Cee’s ass. Desmond’s face rubbed up against the burly man’s lower back and his cum-dripping asscheeks until he finally landed on the ground on his feet. He nearly fell as his orgasm had weakened his knees, but Desmond managed to remain upright.
Johnny Cee turned around and winced. He kissed Desmond on the lips, and their tongues awkwardly interlocked once again — Johnny Cee’s massive tongue overfilling Desmond’s mouth, in which it barely fit. Then Johnny Cee pulled off and smiled bashfully.
“Sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. You’ve got a nice ass, Johnny Cee.”
“Yeah, well… Thanks, for that, and for, uh… y’know, saving the shop,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” Desmond said with a gasp and a shudder. They both got dressed. When they were done, Johnny Cee took a deep breath.
“So, y’know, I’m gonna tell them niggas that you go hard but it ain’t hurt too much. I ain’t gonna tell ‘em… y’know… that I jacked off too.”
“Okay,” Desmond said, sighing and smiling at Johnny Cee’s nervous stammering. “No one ever has to know you enjoyed bottoming. Your secret is safe with me.”