wearing shorts – Mansploitation

The Cocky Guido

Avery is at the Jersey Shore, where he finds himself servicing a cocky guido named Freddie. He can’t get enough of that Italian slab of manmeat!

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Read the whole thing here!

Most guidos were actually fat or skinny. They were arrogant, orange-skinned prettyboys who weren’t even pretty. The men at the gym had turned out to be a bitter disappointment.
That was the Cornerside Gym of Northtown Meadows in Seaside Heights, New Jersey. Avery worked there. Cornerside Gym had a reputation nationwide as a place for serious meatheads, weightlifters, boxers, etc., and the gym didn’t even accept women as members except where legally required to.
Seaside Heights, New Jersey, was not one of those places, so no women ever came into Cornerside except as cleaners at night. Avery didn’t mind that one bit. He enjoyed watching men work out, and he greatly appreciated the physiques of the men who worked out here. Seaside Heights was on the Jersey Shore, so a lot of those men were guidos.
It wasn’t like the guidos from that teevee show though. In the real world, most guidos were fat, or at least the ones who came to Avery’s gym were pretty tubby. They didn’t seem to realize it though. They carried themselves like they had good bodies they wanted to show off. One of them even once pulled up his shirt and smacked on his protruding belly as he insulted a skinny nerd in the locker room, even though the skinny nerd was in better shape than he was.
It was disconcerting. More than once, Avery wondered if he had wandered into an alternate reality where the standards for having a good body had changed. Still though, there was something about their cocky confidence that was arousing even when their bodies weren’t perfect, and sometimes they had both the perfect body and the cocky confidence.
Those, of course, were Avery’s favorites. One of them was Freddie Rizzoli.
Freddie walked out of the weight room one afternoon wearing nothing but sandals and a pair of sweat-marinated basketball shorts. Freddie was short and squat, too muscular for his body size, like he had trouble supporting so much muscle, yet he didn’t have that awkward-bodybuilder shape either — he looked too muscular only because he was so short, he packed more power than seemed possible into a small space.
“That’s right, man, fuck it! I told them how it is!” He pounded on his chest, talking to some friends as they all headed into the locker room. His bare chest flexed. He ran his fingers through his greasy slicked-back hair. “I don’t even play like that, man, swear to God! No disrespect, baby!”
Avery blushed and looked away. He hoped he didn’t look too obvious. He went about his business, ignoring Freddie and the other guidos. He heard them grunting and encouraging each other as they did bench presses. They were touchy, gripping each other’s muscles and casually masaging each other’s shoulders in between sets. When walking by, he even saw Freddie laying on that bench press with those sweat-soaked shorts clinging to his flesh. The outline of his huge, uncut cock was clearly visible pressing against the fabric of the shorts. It left nothing to the imagination.
When Freddie lifted, he grunted and his dick twitched. Avery drooled a little. He hurried away. Avery’s own cock was rock-hard, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Freddie. He rushed home to jack off.
But then he didn’t see Freddie at the gym next time he went. Avery was disappointed.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later that he saw Freddie again, still with those same couple of friends — he seemed to spend all of his time with them. Freddie ran his fingers through that over-brushed mop of straight, crunchy hair as he went into the locker room, having finished his workout, muscles drenched in sweat and cradled by the too-tight tank top he wore. Avery wondered if he could come up with an excuse to go into the locker room to check Freddie out. He blushed even though he was alone, not wanting to feel like such a lush.
But Freddie and his friends remained in there for only a minute or two. They returned with towels around their waists, having taken off their shirts. Avery watched sweat gleam on Freddie’s chest — which was freshly shaven, and not at all orange (Freddie actually tanned using sunlight, unlike most of his friends).
“Man, it’s just head,” Freddie said to one of his buddies, with a haughty chuckle, “you shouldn’t be picky about head.” He grabbed his dick through the towel around his waist.
“Why not?”
He laughed as though the answer should be obvious: “Cuz then you might get less. A mouth is a mouth, after all. So long as it’s warm and wet, who cares what she looks like?” His friends snorted and agreed with him, except for the one who had asked the question. Avery didn’t mean to follow them, but they went in the same direction he went. They went to the sauna, whereas Avery intended to walk past the sauna to go to the employee lounge. Freddie glanced at him and nodded his chin in his direction. “Fat girls love suckin’ dick,” he said quietly, like he thought Avery would scold him for being crude.
“Ain’t that nasty?”
“You ain’t gotta look down, do ya?” Freddie said as he went in the sauna, friends following behind him. They guffawed and slapped Freddie on the back. Freddie’s dimpled face, wide-eyed and exhilarated, was visible through the little window in the sauna door.
Wow, he is a champion douchebag… That was one aspect of guido life that came through on TV loud and clear. Avery didn’t like men because they were nice though.
He liked men with muscles and machismo and manhood to spare, and Freddie as exactly that sort of man.
Avery was disappointed that he didn’t get to watch Freddie any longer. Unfortunately, the sauna was one of the few spots in this gym where he couldn’t justify simply walking in whenever he wanted. Staff normally stayed out of there, and there was no storage or anything else he might have been able to use as an excuse. Plus, he had some actual job responsibilities he needed to get back to eventually.
For now though, he kept an eye on the little window in the door though. He was able to watch Freddie’s shoulder muscles flex as he laughed. The sight of his muscles and the sound of his arrogant alpha-male laughter made Avery’s dick twitch and harden up in his pants.
Avery was about to walk away to jack off alone when he heard some low murmured comments in the sauna, followed by more chortling laughter. It was very loud this time, loud enough to startle Avery from his daydream. From the tone, he guessed somebody had made some sort of scandalous joke. Something about the sound made him stand flat against the wall, listening the best he could.
A part of him could tell that they had been talking about him. The hairs on the back of Avery’s neck stood on end. He couldn’t put his fingers on what made him think that until he heard their words, but he was certain of it even before he listened.
“Man, that ain’t what I’m sayin’!” Freddie insisted, his voice audible through the door. It sounded like he was trying to stay light-hearted, to prove this wasn’t a big deal, whatever it was. Avery could hear him rolling his eyes in there as his friends laughed at him, a forced smile on his face to make himself seem easygoing even though he wasn’t. “A mouth is a mouth is all I’m saying. That’s how they did it in the Old Country-“
“As though you know, man.”
“Fuck you, bitch, say that to my face!” Freddie barked and everyone fell silent. That part was clearly audible outside the sauna. Then Freddie cleared his throat and chuckled like he hadn’t just snapped. “Yo, I been there, you know that. In Sicily, man, if you act like some disrespec’ful punk, man, you get on ya knees, boi! Verità!” He laughed cruelly. “I ain’t done it myself, but I know how shit goes down. My uncle got this one punk who owe him money, man, he puts that bitch in his place e’ry day, man!” He paused. “‘Cept on Sunday, man, he don’t do that. That’s God’s day.”
His friends murmured quietly in response, but nobody challenged him. It sounded like Freddie said this frequently and they tolerated it but didn’t approve. They exchanged glances with each other, and they laughed politely at Freddie’s antics. As always, he had taken it too far. Freddie always took things too far. When his friends laughed, he laughed harder. When his friends bullied a nerd, Freddie got too mean about it and did time in juvie. When his friends smoked weed or drank beer, Freddie smoked or drank until he puked. When they insulted a pimp, Freddie insulted him so bad the pimp tried to stab him.
The one thing Freddie couldn’t do was stop himself.
Freddie didn’t like the idea of his friends thinking of him as a braggart — he liked the idea of being old-school, hardcore, not behaving like some “prettyboy”, as his father would have called his friends. Only pansies worried about projecting an image; a real man trusted that reality would show off his manhood to everyone who needed to see it. His body streaked with sweat, he made sure his friends could all see his muscles. He kissed first one bicep, then the other, and he let his towel “accidentally” fall away to reveal his gigantic dick.
He knew he had the biggest dick among his friends. He made sure they never forgot it. His shaft was more than a foot long, veiny as fuck, and it was thick like a coke can.
“Man, Freddie, admit it, you playin’, right? You wouldn’t do nothin’ like that, and we all know it,” someone said, and everyone else fell quiet. They all shared knowing snickers with each other. “This ain’t the Old Country-“
Freddie scoffed loudly. “Yo, you don’t even know, man. No disrespect, but you don’t get how a real man is, ya feel me?” He sniffled and laughed to show how little he cared for that suggestion. He shrugged like it was no big deal. “If you got a real man’s cock and balls like me, you need to use ’em, y’know. That’s how Italians do, man, ya gotta drain ya nuts.”
“That’s why you get fat girls, man-“
“Yeah, well, fat chicks suck dick the best, everybody knows that. They know how to get deep, and they don’t get pissy about it if you force it in deeper.” He imitated a girl’s plaintive voice begging for more cock, and he pumped his hips, shadow-fucking a woman’s mouth. “Oh, it’s too big, don’t make me deep-throat it, Freddie, I can’t take the whole thing. But it tastes so good… Oooh, I want more…” He switched back to his own voice. “When I get a woman, I get inside that pussy, man. It’s all about the pussy.” He paused. “Or ass, ‘course, if she a dirty bird.”
“You could get some ass right now.”
“Yeah, do it, Freddie.”
Freddie snorted. “What?”
“There’s that dude out there, right? The one who works here? The little flamboyant one?”
Avery blushed. Am I caught? They must have noticed me checking him out. Avery was the only one who worked at this gym who might be described as a “little flamboyant” man. Avery held back a giggle.
“Yeah, he wanna slurp yo’ balls, man. He looked at you like a fat kid looks at cake.”
“So let ‘im.” Freddie shrugged. He wagged his pecker towards his friends. He guffawed too, slapping his knee at the sick look they made — they didn’t like being reminded that he had the biggest cock in the whole crew.
“Yeah, that’s some Old Country shit, Freddie. Does ya dick work or not?”
They all laughed, all except Freddie. He bit his lip and scoffed again, like this wasn’t a big deal and of course he would do it, like there was no doubt, even though the hesitation in his voice was palpable. “I mean… yeah, like… Uh-huh…. He prolly ain’t allowed to.” He cleared his throat. “Gym prolly got rules and shit.” Then he let out another forced laugh, like that ended the conversation and he wasn’t going to continue it. “So what’re you’s doin’ tonight-?”
“Uh-huh, you scared?”
“He is, he’s worried his dick won’t work-“
“Probably worried the creep gonna have a bigger dick than him.”
“What if the dude makes him bend over and ramrods him like a prison bitch?”
“That’s prolly what’ll happen-“
“Freddie gonna bottom for him-!”
They all laughed, all again, except Freddie, who roared and bellowed. “Man! I could kick that punk’s ass!” Even as he said it, he knew it made him sound weak — it was obvious he could kick that punk’s ass, that’s why his friends had suggested otherwise as a joke. Freddie knew he made himself sound defensive and weak, but he couldn’t help himself. He hated it when anyone questioned his masculinity, even a little bit. “I could do it, no problem. No disrespect, but I could knock that boy’s block off.”
Having a feeling that Freddie was about to come out of the sauna, Avery stepped away. He went to the closet just down the hall and made it look like he had just brought the mop bucket there and needed to move stuff around to make space for it. Since he wasn’t near the sauna anymore, he couldn’t hear what they said, but they kept laughing and chanting while Freddie listed excuses.
“Man, you know how I am, I don’t like, y’know… This gym is real important, I don’t wanna ruin it, y’know, get kicked out and shit. Gotta get my gym on, pump up the muscles, y’know-“
“Uh-huh, Freddie, just admit it, you’ve never jacked off in a dude’s mouth-“
“And you never would-“
“And you know fuck-all about how they would do it in the ‘Old-Country’-“
“All you’s guys can go fuck yaselves,” Fredde said with a grimace. He flexed one bicep and kissed it again, showing off a dimpled smile — for no clear reason that Avery could tell, Freddie was just unsure of himself and filled up awkward pauses with bluster and self-worship. “Course I’ll do it. Ain’t nevuh said I wasn’t gonna do it.”
Finally Freddie came out of the sauna. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He blanched at the sight of Avery like he had hoped maybe Avery would have left by now.
But Avery was there by the closet, fiddling with the mop bucket. He smiled at Freddie.
“Hey, uh, yo…” He sounded like he was going to ask a question politely. But then he heard his friends all clustered by the door to hear, poking at his back and teasing him under their breath. He felt he needed to maintain his macho image. So he grabbed his dick through his towel. “Yo, freak, you wanna slurp my meat?”
Avery blushed. “Uh…” His first reaction was, of course, to say yes, but he instinctually wanted to avoid looking too pervy, and Freddie was such a jerk Avery had an unquenchable desire to tell him no, even if he really wanted to say yes. So he played coy. He giggled and touched Freddie’s nipple, making both pecs flex in sync with each other. Freddie furrowed his brow. “I don’t know,” Avery said with another girlish giggle.
“Course you do.” Freddie scoffed. He took a deep breath and dropped his towel, standing there cockily in the hallway like he expected Avery to be so turned on by his foot-long dick that he couldn’t help but start swallowing it down right then and there. He was almost right, but Avery kept a nonchalant look on his face, despite desire blooming deep within him. When his posing didn’t result in Avery dropping to his knees, Freddie just scowled and said, “Come on.” He opened the door to the sauna.
Avery blushed but came in. The other guidos were rushing to get their own towels over their waists — they had been wearing the towels, but they hadn’t bothered to keep them secured, so most of them were loose; now that there was a stranger in the sauna, they made sure to fix the towels.
“Ah, shit, is he really doin’ it?”
“Oh damn, Freddie!”
“Bow-bow-chicka-wow-wow!”
Avery and Freddie were in the center of the sauna, which forced the other guidos by the door. They all clustered together as though worried they’d get splashed on. Though they thought it was too weird to be near Avery, they didn’t mind bumping into each other, clasping each other’s sweaty muscles and getting so close together they could taste each other’s bodies. Avery could even see one man’s towel ride up enough on his thigh that his dick protruded and rubbed against his buddy’s hairy orange-tanned thigh — they were all so engrossed in watching Freddie that no one noticed.
“Well, get on ya knees, boi!” Freddie said, pumping his biceps for the benefit of his friends. He even kissed one bicep, which made Avery giggle. Freddie ran his fingers through his greasy black hair. “You’s guys thought I wasn’t gonna do it, you thought I was just playin’!”
“Freddie’s fo’ real!”
“Aw, shit, baby!” one of them shouted, ran forward a few feet and smacked Freddie on the ass — that seemed to be some kind of inside joke — before going back to his compatriots. As he did, his towel fell, baring a splendid orange-brown ass, gleaming with sweat in the overheated sauna. Avery wondered which of that guido’s friends spray-tanned his buttcheeks.
“Get ya naked ass outta here-!”
“Don’t let your dick touch me!”
They shoved him away, and the one who had run away from the group looked behind his back. He didn’t want to pick up the towel that he had dropped because it would mean he had to bend over, ass facing either his friends or Avery and Freddie. Finally he squatted awkwardly, covering his crotch with one hand, picked up the towel and wrapped it around his waist again.
Avery sunk to his knees. He blushed, embarrassed at the leering, laughing guidos who surrounded him. Freddie had a nice big cock. His pubic hair was trimmed, which Avery was not a fan of — he preferred a more natural man — and his chest was shaved as smooth as a billiard ball. But that gym-toned body was perfect enough to make up for any disappointment in his lack of hair.
When he took Freddie’s dick in his mouth, Freddie gasped but tried to cover it up by sternly grunting, so his friends didn’t think this was a big deal for him. He crossed his arms over his pecs and flexed his muscles, making Avery giggle and blush again.
“See? You’s guys is a bunch of pansies, gettin’ all squeamish like girls,” Freddie said with a scoff, as though this had happened a hundred times and Freddie was fed up with their response. “A mouth is a mouth, boi!” He flexed both biceps over Avery’s head.
But Avery could sense the nervous energy in the thrum of Freddie’s muscles and the tension even in his relaxed limbs. It didn’t bother Avery none, as he focused on slurping that rod down deep.
“Damn, Freddie…”
“Get deep in his throat!”
Ruddy arousal bloomed over Freddie’s face and chest, his tanned neck turning burgundy. His tongue lolled around inside his mouth. Sweat covered his body. Freddie tensed up because he was worried he would cum too quickly. He had been raised to think being on top made him tough but cumming too quick would make him weak — a real man should take a little time to fuck his bottom’s throat.
But taking a break or otherwise slowing down directly would look weak too. Freddie’s instinct was to grab Avery’s head and fuck his face aggressively. He didn’t entirely want to to do though, because it would require touching his head and reminding himself he was with a man. In any case, he was sure that would make him cum right away.
“Swallow it, yo…” Freddie paused and added, in poor Italian, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!” He thought a little trash-talk would be a good compromise — it would make him look tough without making him cum more quickly, and that sentence was one of the few Italian things he could say confidently. So he said it again, “Succhiare il mio cazzo!”. He chuckled. Ain’t nobody else here knew what that meant, so Freddie flexed his pecs to make them bounce and sneered down at the weak man slobbering on his knob. Spit dripped down the shaft and soaked his pubic hair. “Aw, shit, you gonna play with it like a tubby bitch, huh? You best-” His voice broke, which he only barely managed to cover up by coughing. A shiver of potent pleasure ran up his spine. Freddie blushed — it wasn’t obvious because he was very tan and he was ruddy anyway from the heat in this humid sauna, but he could feel it, and he grew antsy trying to affect a nonchalant attitude in front of his friends. “You best deep-throat that shit, baby…” He winced as his friends laughed — he hadn’t meant to call Avery baby. That was a step too far, he thought.
“Baby? You two gonna fall in love?”
“Ooooooh! Freddie’s in love!”
“Fuck you, man, you’s guys-” Freddie pumped his hips one time, cutting off his own words because his dick rammed all the way into Avery’s throat and an explosion of pleasure like nothing he had ever experienced wracked his body. It felt so good it hurt.
He had never been deep-throated like this. He couldn’t admit how unprecedented it was because he had been bragging to his friends for years about how he made his girls deep-throat him. He said that they loved it. He specifically said that his balls rested on their chin when he came. That had never been true until now.
His balls slapped against Avery’s chin, and Freddie let out a tortured crying wail as an orgasm erupted within him. Already his friends snickered — that had taken maybe three minutes — and hooted as they slapped his ass.
He grunted, his orgasm so intense it almost hurt, and he gripped Avery’s head tightly, ignoring his short, masculine haircut. He grimaced and sprayed a massive wad down Avery’s throat, filling his belly up with creamy warmth.
The taste was salty and savory, and Avery guzzled down every drop. He loved straight boy cum because it had a vibrant, spring-like quality that made him crave more even as he swallowed Freddie’s load and licked every drop off his limpening shaft.
It just kept on flowing, more and more. Freddie’s eyes opened wide as he watched. His friends peered closer — they’d never really seen someone cum before. Of course they’d watched porn and they’d fucked their girlfriends alongside each other — they even once gangbanged this older lady who had begged for Italian meat — but they had always been distracted by their own desires and the female flesh around them. Not this time. They had no reason to look anywhere else, and like people unable to turn their heads away from an accident, they stared as Freddie’s dick throbbed and pulsating.
Great creamy gobs of cum spilled out and over Avery’s face. He saw all those eyes staring at him, and he thought to make a big mess, letting most of the cum in his mouth overflow. That embarrassed them all.
“Aw, shit-“
“Lookit that nasty!”
“Oh it’s all over his face! It’s all over his face! You the man, Freddie!”
“Ah, shit, yo, damn…” Freddie said. He shook his head and sighed, trying not to reveal how surprised he was by that big load. Avery had really pulled it right out of his balls. Freddie shrugged as though that was how much cum he normally shot. “Damn… Alright, I was, y’know… You can go now, man-” His voice broke and his friends laughed at him. “We done, you, uh… I used you as quick as I could. I wasn’t tryin’ to take a lotta time, so now you gotta go.” Freddie again knew he sounded defensive; he sounded like he was embarrassed about how quick that had been (which he was), but he couldn’t stop himself. “Man, that was what they call a cazzo veloce in the Old Country.”
Avery remained sitting right there. Freddie was so focused on demonstrating to his friends how macho he was and how he had forced Avery to slurp his dick then leave that he didn’t notice that Avery hadn’t left. Avery sat next to Freddie and clutched his muscular body. Freddie was too uncomfortable to make him leave, so he endured it until he and his friends had finally had enough of the sauna.
Then they left Avery there to remember the taste of Freddie’s fine Italian cock. That, Avery thought, had been unici deliziosi!

The Rugby Jock

Lachlan is a rugby jock promised a happy ending in a massage parlor, but he assumed he’d have a woman as a masseuse… Instead he has a twinky American masseur who is willing and ready to give Lachlan a mouth he can ride like an unruly kangaroo! Can Lachlan handle this masseur’s welcoming manhood?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

“Bloody hell, mate, this place is fancy as!”
Lachlan smiled and played along with his teammates, but he was nervous. The entire minor-league rugby league side he joined a few months ago were on a trip to a match together, and Coach Marshall purchased them all a massage… with a “happy ending”. Lachlan knew what that meant. It made him very nervous, but he didn’t dare back out. The team had been acting like “thirsty yobbos” lately, in Coach Marshall’s words, and he thought the happy ending would help settle them down.
He had only ever rooted two sheilas, and one of them barely counted — he shot his load after just two minutes inside her, and that was how he lost his virginity when he (and she) were eighteen years old. He was deeply embarrassed by that premature ejaculation, though lucky his then-girlfriend was also a virgin and didn’t know it was supposed to take longer than that. The other woman he rooted had been his girlfriend for nearly two years, but that was all over now. No one on the team knew how few women he had ever fucked.
But now he was very worried that his lack of experience would show.
What if he didn’t know how to satisfy the masseuse? What if she made fun of him for cumming too soon? He’d look like an idiot if that happened, if even a root rat made fun of his sexual prowess. His teammates would never let him live that down.
Somebody clutched his ass — Ian, one of his teammates — and cackled as he went down the line doing the same to each player. Ian was a larrikin, so that wasn’t surprising. He thought it was funny to put chilli powder in someone’s jockstrap. Which it was. Lachlan was too nervous to find anything funny though. Ian’s fingers gripped Lachlan’s round asscheeks hard, and his finger even dropped beneath Lachlan’s shorts, fingering his sweaty crack.
“Rack off, mate,” Lachlan murmured.
“Who else is hard already?” Ian asked with a big cocky grin across his face. “I could nearly ram Lachlan here if he wasn’t such a hairy bastard.” To prove his point, Ian attempted at Lachlan’s ass, humping his still-clothed cock at Lachlan’s asscrack, which was cradled by powder blue rugby shorts. Ian gripped Lachlan’s waist and moaned out an exaggerated orgasm. Lachlan blushed and yelped, pushing Ian away. He really was hard, Lachlan could feel it, Ian’s cock, pulsating against the meat of Lachlan’s ass.
“Ah shit, mate! Ian’s gonna ram the new guy!”
But Lachlan didn’t complain about it. If Ian knew you were bothered by something, he’d never stop doing it. Second, Ian had the biggest cock on the team and was always waiting for an opportunity to whip it out — he always went nuddy first in the locker room, and he put his clothes on last, searching for any reason to go running through the gym or across the field, uncut cock waving in the wind. Lachlan just wanted to be left alone. He wasn’t embarrassed of his cock, but he didn’t like showing it off either.
“I’m about to bust too,” Lachlan said, forcing a grin on his face as he turned around, faced Ian and humped him back — since they were face to face, their bulging shorts just bumped into each other. Lachlan was still soft, and his jockstrap-cradled cock and balls brushed up against Ian’s rock-hard manhood. The feel of his erect cock made Lachlan shudder with disgust. At least, he thought, they weren’t all gangbanging the same trashy bogan together, which other rugby teams did heaps.
Then a beautiful Asian woman appeared from the back. The whole side jumped back to their seats and st properly, as though the Asian woman was their kindergarten teacher. They exchanged nervous looks, and more than one of them audaciously checked out her ass, which was plump and juicy, or so it looked to Lachlan. He was one of those who checked her out. How could he not? She made his dick tingle.
She must have noticed the rugby jocks all checking out her ass and the bosom stretching the fabric of her top, but she didn’t complain or let on in the slightest. She wrinkled her nose and scrunched her eyes at the team, taking them in one by one. She reviewed a clipboard with some forms on it with Coach Marshall, then she cast her judgmental eyes over the players once again. She blushed when she got to Ian, who must have made some kind of face at her, maybe licked his lips. Ian was like that, as massive flirt, seemingly unable to prevent himself from doing it. It was the only way he knew to interact with women. Everybody on the team knew not to let him be alone with their girlfriends.
After going over the rules of the spa, that Asian woman called for whoever was first. She was joined by a thin, effeminate man whose name-tag read ‘Avery’. But Avery faded to the back of Lachlan’s perception, as he had eyes only for the pretty woman.
After a few moments of silence, the other players erupted in excited whispers and audible horniness. It was Ian who piped up first. “Seniority! I’m goin’ first,” Ian said, running past the others. He shook his ass in Avery’s direction, or maybe in Lachlan’s direction but Avery was in front of him, so that was also Avery’s direction.
Lachlan was both annoyed and relieved. It seemed everyone was okay with going by seniority, which meant Lachlan would be last. He didn’t really want the others to see him going back with a girl — they’d tease him as he went, as they did Ian now (don’t be impotent, Ian! Is your cock soft yet? He likes being pepper-sprayed right at the moment of orgasm, ma’am!). But going last had its own drawbacks: if he was slow to finish, everyone would know because they’d be waiting for him.
Then three more Asian women came out, each one more beautiful than the last. They each left with one of the rugby players, and the waiting room dwindled. Lachlan hoped they would all be that beautiful. Then they continued coming out in small groups, duos or trios mostly, until finally, only Lachlan was left there in the lobby.
He felt very alone and cold. Even Coach Marshall had gone, either back to the parking lot or maybe he had gone in for a massage and happy ending of his own. Lachlan’s dick had never felt smaller. He knew it was only because he was the newest member of the team, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of personal rejection over being last to be chosen.
“Come along, sir, are you ready for your massage?” That man, Avery, appeared in the waiting room. He smiled at Lachlan, who nodded and hurried after him.
“Uh, yeah…” Lachlan followed the man into the back. His mind raced, concluding that he was being brought to the masseuse. Maybe she didn’t like to leave her massage room, he thought. Once he got into the corridor, he heard his teammates talking trash to each other through the walls.
“Aw, shit yeah!”
“Damn, I bloody love Asian girls!”
“You’re such a dag, mate!”
Lachlan could hear moist sucking sounds in the rooms he passed. They were all women though, he could tell from the feminine sounds they made. He was sure of it. He was positive there’d be a woman waiting in the room the man showed him to.
But there wasn’t. There was just a massage table and a counter covered with fragrant oils, near a bouquet of flowers. A CD player in one corner played New Age music with an Asian flair to it. The man, Avery, nodded at Lachlan, and gestured for him to get on the table on his back.
Lachlan slowly stripped off his shirt, revealing his powerful rugby-toned chest. His pecs rippled nervously and his nipples turned hard as though it was cold in here, even though it was actually humid and warm. He smiled nervously at Avery. “My name is Lachlan,” he said. “Where’s the masseuse?”
“Hello, Lachlan. I’m Avery,” he said. He bowed again. “I’m going to give you your massage today.” He had a very thick American accent.
“Oh. I, uh… I thought it’d be a girl,” Lachlan said. He took off his shoes, but hesitated before dropping his pants.
Before anything else could happen, however, Avery undid Lachlan’s belt in one smooth motion. He pulled down Lachlan’s underpants and again motioned for him to lay on his belly on the table. He moved in a clinical manner, no sexuality here, Lachlan thought, like he was a doctor or a scientist rather than a masseur.
“No girl. Sorry, it’s just me. We ran out of female masseuses today,” Avery said. “I know your Coach paid for a happy ending. It’s okay. Don’t be worried..”
Lachlan was unsure what that meant. Maybe he was just going to give a massage, and then a girl would come over for the happy ending part. That was a reassuring thought. He got up on the massage table and laid on his belly. His bare asscheeks jiggled when he moved.
“Oh yeah, she’s beggin’ for my meat, mates, you wouldn’t even believe it. She bein’ quiet as, because she’s Japanese, but she’s beggin’ me for it!”
“My one loves my dick!”
When the massage began, Lachlan moaned in surprised pleasure and pain. A part of him did feel good, but he didn’t like a bloke touching him so intimately, and it made him uncomfortable. The pain, however, came from the extreme pressure Avery exerted. He massaged as though trying to rub the shoulders right off Lachlan’s back.
Lachlan straightened and stiffened, and he considered calling it off. But the moaning coming from the other rooms made him reconsider. His teammates all had girls, and judging from the sounds they made, they were having a good time. He didn’t want to be left out, and he was now even more confident that Avery was here for the massage while a girl would be coming for the end — Avery acted like a serious masseur. Lachlan would rather have just skipped the massage, but he could live with it so long as a girl came in for the happy ending.
Relaxation flooded his body. Lachlan felt so tense he would never have thought he could relax with a bloke rubbing his back, his hands now just inches from Lachlan’s plump, rugby-player ass. But Avery was actually a very good masseur, and the stress melted away from Lachlan’s back.
“Aah, damn, this girl is swallowing the whole thing, mate!”
“My sheila’s loose as, mate!”
“Roll over,” Avery said. His voice was soft, but he spoke with confidence and authority, so Lachlan could hear it over the hooting catcalls of his teammates.
Lachlan did as he was told. If he hadn’t been suddenly flooded with endorphins, he would have said no. He would have told Avery he’d wait for a girl to come in the room, and he’d roll over for her.
Avery did not put a towel over his crotch, as Lachlan had thought he might. He just began kneading the meat of Lachlan’s pecs and shoulders. Lachlan’s bare dick wiggled when Avery manipulated his flesh. Again, he used so much pressure it was painful, and Lachlan grunted.
“This Asian skank is horny as, mate! You fuckers manage to get hard yet?”
Lachlan blushed as he realised his dick was twitching into full erection, either from his anxiety or from his awareness of the beautiful Japanese girls being fucked all around him, even if he couldn’t actually see any. His hands flailed uselessly above his body. Avery frowned.
“You’re doing okay. Your happy ending is coming soon. You are a football player, right? American football?” Avery said. He didn’t mention Lachlan’s burgeoning hardon.
“Uh, no, rugby. This is Australia, mate. We don’t play American football-“
“I met a quarterback one time. Carolina Panthers-“
“Yeah, that’s a different sport, mate,” Lachlan said, but his voice was weak and strained (he was annoyed that Avery mixed up rugby and American football though — he hated when Americans did that). Avery’s hand was so low on his belly he touched Lachlan’s pubic hair, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“He was very nice. You’re a quarterback? Or the rugby equivalent?”
“Uh… yeah, I’m a quarterback, or something like that…” Lachlan said. He didn’t want to confuse the two sports — it angered him when people did that — but he couldn’t think of anything else to say with his mind focused like a laser on his hard dick just centimeters from Avery’s fingers.
That was when Avery grabbed Lachlan’s manhood with one hand. He held it firmly and stroked it, his rhythm low and slow, his slanted eyes looking at Lachlan like a piece of meat. Lachlan moaned and bucked his body, practically “fucking” Avery’s hand.
“You are going to the Super Bowl?” Avery smirked — he liked pretending to be more ignorant than he really was. It kept Lachlan focused.
“Uh… No, mate that’s a different sport, a different country. Do you know what country you’re in?” Lachlan snapped. His eyes were trained directly on his cock, which throbbed in Avery’s hand. He was surprised he didn’t lose his erection. He certainly didn’t feel sexy.
“Relax… You’re getting a happy ending,” Avery said. He gently pushed on Lachlan’s chest, trying to get him to lay flat on his back. “Quarterbacks are always handsome. They get all the girls, right?”
“Yeah, mate.”
“Oh yeah, this slut knows exactly what she’s doing!!!”
That sounded like Ian. He was always so loud, it annoyed Lachlan, who wondered if the Asian girls were insulted by his teammates shouting out insults like slut. Avery didn’t have any reaction to the sounds from the other rooms, which include some barely audible girlish moaning behind the macho laughter and braying trash-talk.
“Hey Lachlan, how’s yours? You aren’t makin’ a lotta noise, mate? Somethin’ wrong with yah dick? Limp as, huh?”
“Uh, it’s great, she’s, uh… really something!” Lachlan called out. He blushed. That did not sound like something a rugby player would say when having sex with a prostitute. Maybe the others didn’t notice though.
Then Avery bent over and put Lachlan’s dick in his mouth. Lachlan threw his head back, hands hovering above Avery’s head — he had an instinctual urge to hold onto Avery as he licked and slurped on Lachlan’s cock, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch a bloke. So he kept his arms elevated nearby, like any minute now he would push Avery away and start jacking himself off instead.
But he had to admit this felt amazing. It felt more better than the blowjobs his ex had ever given (that was the only person who had ever given him a blowjob, so Lachlan had no idea if she was better or worse than average). Avery’s tongue moved all up and down his shaft, and Lachlan moaned out of genuine excitement. His dick throbbed in Avery’s mouth.
“Yeah, now I hear it, Lachlan, ya got it!”
“We’re all proud of you, mate!”
Lachlan bucked his hips again, slamming his dick down Avery’s throat. He was surprised again to see Avery swallow every inch of Lachlan’s manhood. Apparently, Lachlan realised, this masseur could deep-throat like a porn star. His ex had never gotten more than the first few inches of cockmeat in his mouth.
That sent waves of pleasure up Lachlan’s body. His muscles all writhed and contorted at once, while Lachlan began breathing shallowly, nearly hyperventilating. His face turned a bright red.
Then at last Avery pulled up and off his dick. Lachlan gasped as his dick spasmed in the suddenly cold air. He writhed on the massage table.
“You need some ass, right? Your coach didn’t pay for it, but I know quarterbacks need it. You won’t play right if you don’t drain your balls,” Avery said.
“Um…” Lachlan lifted his head up, eyes opening wide. “Not, a uh… quarterback…”
Before Lachlan knew what was happening, Avery crawled up on the table, spreading his legs. He had taken off his pants at some point, and Lachlan saw his bare white ass.
“Oh, uh…” Lachlan realised that Avery was about to sit on his cock, and he knew he could stop it — all he had to do was slide right off the massage table. But a part of him didn’t want it to stop, not at all, even if his mind told him he should. His full-to-bursting balls were in control now.
“Your coach bought this happy ending, right? You still want it?”
“Uh, yeah…” Lachlan said, his voice sounded weak even to himself. His hands were now above his head so he didn’t even come close to accidentally touching Avery, whose whole body flexed and contorted as he got into position above Lachlan’s crotch.
Then Lachlan gasped again, and he moaned out loud as his dick slid into Avery’s ass. Avery’s cheeks were tight and toned, just like his body, without a single ounce of fat. They were like slightly chilled bowling balls, moving down his cockshaft.
He was astonished that he was doing this, and that he was enjoying it. It was disconcerting and strange but Lachlan wouldn’t have given it up for anything, not now in this moment. Intense pleasure wracked his body, and Lachlan gritted his teeth.
“Oh yeah, who finished first, motherfuckers?!” That was Ian, of course. Why would he brag about that? It’d be better if he could go slower, Lachlan thought, and in any case, Ian started first, so it wasn’t surprising that he finished first. Not hardly anything to brag about, but the rest of the team cheered and clapped as though having sex with a prostitute was as impressive as killing a monster.
“Go for it, Ian, fuck that bitch full!”
Waves of potent sensations shot through his body, and Lachlan found himself grabbing ahold of Avery’s hips regardless of his discomfort with this situation. He felt thin, fine hairs on Avery’s upper thigh, which made reminded Lachlan he was with a bloke, but even then, he couldn’t stop himself from keeping a tight grip on Avery.
Avery moved expertly, swaying his hips up and down, the entire length of Lachlan’s manhood. He faced away from Lachlan, which spared Lachlan the sight of Avery flogging his own cock. That definitely made it easier for Lachlan, though it was obvious that was what Avery was doing. He could see the corded muscles of the bloke’s back writhing as he stroked himself off.
When he felt his orgasm coming, Lachlan blushed. He could hear a moist grunting noise emanating from his throat, but it sounded like somebody else was making those sounds. It felt even weirder a few seconds later, when at least two, maybe a half-dozen or more, of Lachlan’s team came all at once. They moaned and grunted loudly, the sound resonating in the massage parlor’s corridor. It made the hair on the back of Lachlan’s neck stand up.
There was clapping, cheering, oohing and aahing. “Swallow it down, lady, no spilling!” It sounded like they were not being perfect gentlemen — Coach Marshall made them all promise to behave like gentlemen, but no one was doing so, except maybe for Lachlan, who was too nervous to be rude.
His back arched, and he threw his head back again as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He grunted and spasmed. He slammed his dick all the way up Avery’s ass.
Then wad after of creamy-hot cum sprayed within Avery’s gut. Lachlan’s muscles rippled and flexed all together, while spasms of bliss ricocheted up his spine. He clutched at Avery’s back.
“Aw, fuck…” Lachlan’s voice was breathless and hoarse.
With his fingers resting on Avery’s back, Lachlan could feel very clearly when Avery shot his own load. The smell of semen filled the tiny massage room. The muscles in Avery’s back rippled and writhed as an orgasm overtook him as well. Avery shot his wad into the palm of his other hand.
At last they were both done. Lachlan laid back limp and spent, too tired now to be self-conscious about what he had done and who he’d done it to. He wasn’t sure what to do next — his dick limpened inside Avery, who showed no sign of getting off him.
“You feel good now, right?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“You can say to your friends that I was a girl. That’s okay. You’re last so they won’t see,” he said.
“Oh. Okay.”
“You make a good quarterback, I think. You have a nice cock,” Avery said. “And big balls. Football players must have big balls.” Avery suppressed a giggle — he knew perfectly well Lachlan was annoyed by the references to quarterbacks, but Avery thought he was cute when he was annoyed.
“Yeah, football,” Lachlan said. “I’m a good quarterback…” His mind was too focused on his dick in Avery’s tight ass to think about anything else to say.
Finally, just when he thought he couldn’t cope with it any longer, Lachlan breathed a sigh of relief when Avery pulled off him. He still moved in a cold, clinical manner, as though this was simply the last stage in a proper massage. He wiped his ass with a tissue.
Lachlan sat up, then hurriedly put his clothes back on. He felt better when he wasn’t naked anymore.
“Well, thanks, Avery,” he said. He blushed.
“You’re welcome. Tip is ten percent. Standard,” he said. “Eight dollars Australian.”
He certainly knows what country he’s in now, Lachlan thought to himself. “Coach Marshall already paid-“
“Tip is ten percent,” Avery said. “That’s not part of the coach price.”
“Oh, uh… okay,” Lachlan said. He stuffed a few dollars in Avery’s hand and hurried out the door. He didn’t really want to tip him, but he didn’t know what Avery would do if he didn’t — he probably would stop showing discretion about this, at the very least, Lachlan thought, and he might even tell the team what had really happened.
He gingerly poked his head out the door. Nobody was in the corridor, so he hurried out, not even Avery. He felt tremendous relief at the realisation that now he was indistinguishable from his teammates. Even if they knew one person had been with a male masseur, there was no way of knowing who was in which room.
“How was that pussy, mate? Tight as?” Ian asked as Lachlan emerged from the shadowy hallway. Everyone looked at him, and for a moment, he thought they might all know. Maybe this was a big prank, and they were going to tease him forever for not turning Avery down.
“Uh, yeah. Tight as,” Lachlan said softly. His spirit brightened when his teammates burst into cheers. They didn’t know, he thought with a deep sigh of relief.
“She give up anal?”
Lachlan smiled. “Yeah. I got anal.”
“Good on ya, mate!” Ian said as they both headed into the waiting room to meet up with the others. There they shared stories of the prostitutes they had just messed with, or so they claimed to each other.
Avery watched them file out the door into the sunny Australian summer, not a single one of those rugby jocks aware that none of them had done anything with a woman beyond shake her hand. They they had all cornholed a man. The women here were just a show but a useful one for sure. Basking in his satisfied glow, Avery smiled and cleaned his massage room.
A footy team would be coming in soon. Their coach had set up an appointment and said they all needed to get a happy ending, or else they’d keep hooting at waitreses. That was a problem Avery was eager to help with.

Thug Punishment

Avery is a personal trainer for the legendary ex-con Thumper White, when Thumper sets up for him an outrageous alpha male punishment scenario like Avery’s been dreaming of!

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery thought his new client was going to be a pain in the ass. He was a rough-looking middle-aged black man, a former pro boxer supposedly. He had argued with and fired two personal trainers already. Rumor had it that he had spent the last thirty years in prison.
He introduced himself as Thumper, and he had a big smile on his round face. He was covered in crude tattoos and muscles, with a thick layer of padding. His tats were faded, maybe prison tats. Avery felt small and weak in front of him, and his knees buckled under Thumper’s withering gaze. He had a simmering intensity that made Avery both uncomfortable and warm, a-thrum with desire. Thumper’s broad chest muscles rippled, already dappled with sweat because he had been on the treadmill before Avery arrived.
“You still like what you see?” His pecs bounced.
“Oh, you… uh, yeah, I think you’ve got a lot of potential. We can work on your abs-“
“Nah,” Thumper said.
A long, terse silence filled the air. Avery thought Thumper was going to say something else, but he didn’t. Thumper pointedly waited. He sniffed, then grabbed at his crotch to scratch his balls. His thick cock was briefly outlined by his shorts, and Avery felt his knees grow weak. A burst of unwashed convict musk hit Avery’s nostrils.
Thumper grinned. “Spot me, man.” He got down on the bench press machine.
Avery began counting along with Thumper’s lifts. One. Two. Three. Normally as he counted, Avery would give some helpful advice, tips or encouragement, but Thumper’s shorts still outlined his cock and Avery couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was so big, like a kielbasa, and his shorts were so thin Avery could see the veins of his cockshaft through the fabric.
When he finished the first set, Avery nervously said, “So you don’t want to work on your abs?” Truthfully he just wanted to get between Thumper’s legs to hold his feet down, but most men were ab-focused, so Avery thought Thumper might want to work on that.
Thumper shook his head. “I’m too old to worry about that. Ain’t gonna get six-pack abs anyway. So it don’t matter,” he said. “You got a quiet back room or something?”
“Uh… not really. I mean the locker room is pretty quiet-” Avery stopped himself because he realized Thumper wanted a private spot. Thumper licked his lips and Avery’s knees went weak. Avery blushed. “I mean… There’s a sauna. No one’s probably in there this early in the morning. We could lock it-“
“There ya go,” Thumper said. He gestured towards the back of the gym. “Lead the way, man. As you go that way, practice making a face like this.” He demonstrated an open-mouth face, complete with his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek to simulate a cock.
Avery walked into the steamy sauna, glad to see that no one was in there. He quickly locked the door behind Thumper. “This won’t really give us a lot of privacy. The door’s not supposed to be locked, it’s not safe. If someone on staff sees it-“
“Hush up, boi,” Thumper said. He got real close to Avery, so his broad chest touched Avery’s lean torso. The body heat emanating from Thumper wrapped Avery up, and he backed himself up so his shoulders rubbed against the firmness of Thumper’s body.
“Uh-“
“Say yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You my trainer, right? You work for me? You call me sir.” Thumper’s voice was a low throaty growl that made Avery’s heart flutter.
“Yes, sir.”
“You wanna jerk me off, boi?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get on yo’ knees and do it.”
Avery sunk to his knees. A part of him was still worried he’s get in trouble, but not a big part of him. He desperately wanted Thumper’s cock.
He reached up to pull down Thumper’s shorts, which were soaked with sweat and moisture from the humid air here in the sauna. But Thumper swatted his hand away.
“Nah, boi. Use yo’ teeth,” Thumper said. He smiled cruelly down at Avery, who shuddered.
Avery gripped Thumper’s shorts with his teeth and pulled them down. It was difficult to get enough leverage to do so, but when he did, and he saw Thumper’s stiff cock jump out at him, Avery was more aroused than he had ever been.
He swallowed the tip of Thumper’s dick. He tried to jack him off at the same time, since Thumper’s dick was much too big for Avery to deep-throat him, but Thumper again swatted his hand away. The taste was warm and musty, salty from sweat or maybe precum or maybe that was the unadulterated taste of manhood. Thumper guzzled it down.
“No hands, Avery,” Thumper said. That was the first time Thumper had said his name, and the way he muttered it like he had never said the word before made Avery shudder with anticipation. Thumper spat, his saliva landing right on the base of his dick. “You can go deep, right?”
Avery nodded without taking the cock out of his throat. Precum filled his mouth. Thumper groaned and began bucking his hips, pushing his dick gently down Avery’s throat. It wasn’t violent, it was more of a gentle grinding motion, like Thumper was making love to Avery’s throat.
Thumper said softly, “I been locked up a lot. I got experience turning every hole I see into a pussy. That’s what yo’ throat is to me. A pussy. My pussy. Make some noise, boi.”
Avery tried to hum, but that triggered him to gag. He fought against it, but then Thumper gripped his head and pulled him off his cock. Thumper leaned down, his face suddenly angry and accusatory. Gobs of spit connected Avery’s mouth to Thumper’s shaft, which throbbed, dripping precum onto the floor. His dick was veiny and thick, and it jabbed around on Avery’s face.
Though Thumper’s words hung in the air, Avery was more focused on that cock. It was so big, so thick, so warm and pulsating. Avery chased it with his mouth, but Thumper didn’t let him catch up with it. Instead, he smeared his dicktip over Avery’s face.
“I say to make noise, Avery. Make it loud. You fightin’ against yo’self. Huh? Why you bein’ disobedient?”
“I’m uh, sorry,” Avery said, breathless. Then he added, “Sir.”
“Good. You should be sorry,” Thumper said. He pushed his cock back down Avery’s throat. Avery sputtered loudly, spitting up a torrent of spit that ran down Thumper’s shaft. Thumper smiled.
“Good. Good job, Avery,” he said. “You are doing a very good job right now. I’m gonna give you somethin’ nice, somethin’ I’m sure you are gonna like. Whatchoo think? You want that?”
Avery pulled off, tears welling up in his eyes from excitement and lack of oxygen. “What is it?!”
“Nah. You agree first,” Thumper said.
“I agree!” Avery said without a second thought.
Thumper chuckled. He dragged Avery to his feet and told him to bend over. “Grab yo’ ankles.” When Avery didn’t immediately follow orders, Thumper bent him over. Avery’s ass aimed high, and Thumper spread his cheeks.
This was a position that Avery had never used. It was difficult to keep his balance like this, with his ass in the air and his entire body down near the ground. He held tightly onto his ankles as Thumper pushed his dick in to Avery’s ass. Intense pressure erupted, but also pleasure coursed through his veins. Thumper’s cock awakened every one of Avery’s nerves.
“Take it, bitch! Don’t fight me, don’t try and get away, you stay right there and swallow my dick up wit’ yo’ ass, bitch.”
The awkward position somehow made this even more arousing for him. Avery had to continue concentrating on remaining upright, and he probably would have fallen except that Thumper kept a tight grip on his ass and hips, forcing Avery to remain in position. That meant Avery was at his mercy, as Thumper plowed hard at his ass again and again.
Then one of Thumper’s hands crept around to Avery’s crotch. There wasn’t much space there since Avery was doubled over, but Thumper managed to grip his dick anyway.
“Yeah, whiteboi, take it!”
Avery was shocked. Not many men were willing to give a reacharound. As Thumper’s cock pounded in and out of his ass, Avery writhed, struggling to let Thumper stroke his dick while remaining in the position Thumper demanded.
“Grab yo’ ankles!” Thumper barked every time Avery was unable to stop himself from letting go. Avery gulped and followed orders. He kept stumbling, as Thumper relentlessly slammed his dick in and out of Avery’s ass. He kept barking orders too. “Make some more sounds, whiteboi. But don’t quit holdin’ onto yo’ ankles, you just hold on tight and keep them knees where I put ’em.”
He was so intensely aroused that Avery barely noticed his own impending orgasm until it happened. Then his whole body bucked and he let go of his ankles, while cum flew down from his cock, sprinkling over Thumper’s fingers and Avery’s body.
“Oh, you gettin’ outta position, huh?” Thumper said. He grabbed Avery by the hair and lifted his upper body, so Avery’s back pressed against Thumper’s chest and his face was right next to Thumper’s. Thumper licked his cheeks as he rubbed the cum from his fingers onto Avery’s face. Thumper didn’t even seem to mind that Avery’s cum coated his face, and soon both men’s features were covered in a bright sheen of cum. It was more apparent on Thumper’s face because of his dark brown skin.
“Don’t you dare kiss me, boi,” Thumper said. Despite his words, moments after that, he did kiss Avery, right on the lips. His tongue plunged into Avery’s mouth.
Avery was shocked again, but he was also distracted as the slick, slippery muscles of Thumper’s body all tensed. He groaned directly into Avery’s mouth, and Avery felt the sound rumbling through his powerful chest.
Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass, a huge, thick load that spread to every corner of his insides. Avery moaned loudly, dimly aware that he heard someone trying the door and finding it locked. Cum dripped down his thighs.
Avery didn’t know how long that lasted. It felt like it may well have been forever. He grunted as his muscles went limp and Thumper pulled out of his ass. Avery nearly collapsed all the way to the floor.
When he opened his eyes, Avery’s blood ran cold. Standing above him, with his arms across his chest, was Jerry Whittock, the general manager for the Cornerside Gym. He was the only management employee whom Avery had no chance of convincing to look the other way.
“Avery,” Jerry said. “Put your clothes on and meet me in my office.” His eyes flickered to Thumper, who smiled, seemingly oblivious. Fluids coated his entire body, a mixture of sweat and cum and spit and more. He flexed his muscles. Jerry ignored him, turned around and left.
“Hey, sorry, man,” Thumper said.
But Avery just blushed, nodded and walked out. Oh well, he thought, that was totally worth it.
He continued to think it was worth it all day. Jerry was furious, of course. He said Avery was being unsanitary, that it was a bad image for the Cornerside Gym, that women would never want to join if they thought that was the kind of thing they might walk in on. Avery didn’t point out that him and Thumper were in the men’s sauna. No women would be in there anyway.
Regardless, Jerry didn’t do anything. He gave Avery a written warning, which is statistically indistinguishable from doing nothing. He didn’t even send Avery home, because Avery closed this evening and Jerry didn’t want to have to stay late enough to do it himself.
There was no point in being mad at Thumper for getting him in trouble, but Avery was still irked by that. So when Thumper knocked on the Cornerside Gym front door a few minutes after close one night, Avery wasn’t about to let Thumper in now. He shook his head at Thumper through the glass door.
That was when he saw that Thumper wasn’t alone. There was a half-dozen additional black thugs behind him, each looking angry. Thumper himself had a cruel grin and a determined look on his face. Thumper pulled out his phone, and moments later, Avery’s own cell phone rang.
Did I ever give Thumper my phone number? I don’t think so…
He heard catcalls and threats from the other men with Thumper, their voices barely audible through the door but clearly audible through the phone. They were laughing at him through the doorway, calling him a snitch and a “little bitch”. Avery’s heart started pounding as he wondered whether he should call the police.
“Yo,” Thumper said. He sounded confident and stern, but not menacing. “Avery. I know you got in trouble for what happened. So I was gonna make it up to you, man. I was gonna do somethin’ real nice for you.” He paused and held his hand up so his buddies would fall silent. “But instead you had to be a little snitch… Now don’t worry, since it’s yo’ first-time, this is only a warning. We’s gonna come in there, and we gonna ramrod you in every hole you got, homeboy. That’ll be yo’ warning. If it happens again, well… This’ll happen again, but in prison, and for the rest of your life. Now let us in, homeboy.”
His tone made it obvious what was happening. Avery was excited — Thumper had set this up for him to say thanks. Thumper had sensed that Avery wanted nothing more than to be violently penetrated by a bunch of his thuggish friends. Avery’s hostility vanished. Thumper smiled, his cruel visage vanishing; his friends couldn’t see his face, so Thumper crossed his arms over his chest such that his body language was hostile and menacing, but his face said, let us in, we’ll have a good time.
Avery opened the door. He had to suppress a smile, but luckily the other gangbangers were not really paying much attention. It seemed they expected to see a terrified Avery, so that was what they saw. Avery was legitimately afraid, even if he was also excited.
“How we gonna do this, Thumper?”
“Let’s punish that snitch!”
“Alright, homeboys, we gonna destroy this whiteboi,” Thumper said. He placed one hand on Avery’s shoulder, and squeezed supportively. “But we can’t hurt ‘im too bad. No leavin’ marks, homeboys, or he just gonna squeal all over again.”
Thumper led them all into the locker room, and the shower area. Someone turned on the water, so hot steam filled the air. Thumper pushed Avery to stand next to the shower, with his face in the water stream. That made it hard for Avery to hear as the others all took off their clothes.
Avery didn’t need to pretend to be scared. He was terrified, excited, aroused and trembling all at once.
“Wreck that snitch, Thumper!”
Thumper wasted no time in slamming his dick into Avery’s ass. He hooted and pumped his biceps as he did, and he pulled Avery out of the water. Avery gulped and blinked his eyes open, sliding to his knees along with Thumper.
“Make ‘im squirm!”
“Now, we gonna mess you up, boi…” Thumper muttered, spitting directly into Avery’s ear.
The pain in his ass was intense, but Avery could feel pleasure mounting as well. His whole body throbbed in Thumper’s arms. Thumper slammed his dick in hard, ramming it in and out as the hot shower water pooled beneath their bodies.
“Damn, Thumper, you ruinin’ that ass!”
“Alright, let’s have a snitch party,” Thumper said. “Rupert, come here and make ‘im eat yo’ ass.”
Rupert was a tall thug with dreadlocks and a Jamaican accent. He sneered at Avery, whose heart pounded. It looked like Rupert would have beat Avery up if Thumper weren’t here to stop him, and that thought send a thrill up Avery’s spine.
“Eat mi bum, snitch…” Rupert said, his lilting accent echoing in the shower. He turned around and bent over, long dreadlocks dangling over the side of his body. He spread his asscheeks, which were plump and thick even though his body was lean and lanky.
Avery dived in. He didn’t remember to look unwilling, but it seemed no one noticed. They flogged their limp dicks as they watched and hooted out encouragement.
“Ew, he doin’ it! This snitch is nasty as fuck!”
Avery’s tongue lapped at Rupert’s ass, snatching up every drop of sweat he could find. He stimulated Rupert’s prostate, which sent a shiver of desire up Rupert’s spine. Avery could tell that made Rupert hard even if he was facing the wrong way to see it.
Avery was so involved in the rimjob that he barely noticed Thumper guiding his hands up to other men’s cocks. They all had huge cocks, big enough that Avery wondered if Thumper had chosen them based on cock size. Avery stroked someone off with each of his hands as he licked Rupert’s ass.
Then Rupert turned around without warning. He slammed his dick down Avery’s throat, laughing as Avery gagged. He had an incredibly long cock, and it was already dripping precum from the rimjob.
Avery was so focused on slurping off Rupert that he didn’t realize the cock in his right hand was nearing orgasm, not until whoever it was pushed his cock in next to Rupert’s. He felt its heat pulsating against his lips as both shafts mashed up next to each other.
“Shit, you double-teamin’ that snitchin’ bitch!”
Rupert growled and said something Avery didn’t catch, all the men were being so loud right now he could barely make out any words — but he gathered that Rupert didn’t like touching cocks. Nobody seemed to worried about Rupert’s comfort, however, as cum flowed into Avery’s mouth from both dicks, the one he had been jacking off and Rupert at the same time.
They were trying to bukkake him though, so neither sprayed right down his throat. Instead they burst their loads all over Avery’s face.
“Ugh, damn, homeboy, you got yo’ nut on me!”
“Fuckin’ hell, this is sum nasty-ass shit, Thumper, can’t believe you talked me into this.”
Somebody else took Rupert’s place, Tyrell Brickley. Another big black cock invaded his throat, and Avery slathered spit up and down it. By this time Avery had lost count of how many different dicks had blown their wads on his face. They began taking turns on his mouth, jabbing their dicks in just long enough to get hard and make Avery choke a bit, then pulling their cocks out.
None of them seemed to mind that Avery’s face was covered in cum, so they were touching each other’s nuts with their dicks and sometimes even their fingers.
“Makin’ snitch soup on this bitch’s face! Gonna make him slurp that shit up!”
Meanwhile Thumper remained right behind Avery, with his fat cock in Avery’s ass. Thumper was close enough that Avery thought he must have gotten some cum on his face as well, but Thumper either didn’t notice or didn’t mind.
When a thug nutted, nothing changed — the other men kept slapping their dicks over Avery’s face even as their buddy coated their meat with his seed, and then they used their shafts to smear it around on Avery’s lips.
“I bet you wish you ain’t snitch now, huh?”
The taste of cum was intense, and only grew with every passing moment. Avery had never experienced anything so hot, and so delicious. He desperately wanted to lick his face off, but he didn’t. He let them spray and spray until there was no corner of his face that wasn’t covered in hot cum.
Since they didn’t stop smacking Avery’s face with their dicks even after they came, Avery didn’t notice that they were done until he saw that everyone was limp — everyone except Thumper. He was still in Avery’s ass, slowly grinding like he wanted to save himself for the end.
Then he stood up and pulled his dick out. Intense relief flooded Avery, whose ass had grown numb anyway. He could still feel little spermies covering his face and dripping down his body onto the shower floor.
“Make ‘im nasty, Thumper!”
“Ass to mouth! Ass to mouth!”
Thumper smiled cruelly and smacked his dick over Avery’s face. His throbbing hard dick sopped up a mountain of cum, huge gobs of it sticking to his shaft.
“Damn, Thumper, that is some nasty shit!”
Avery opened his mouth even before Thumper was ready. Thumper’s sweaty balls plopped in first, and Avery sucked every drop of fluid from there. Then he kept his mouth open as Thumper aimed his dick right in to Avery’s throat.
He tasted deeply of cum already, since his dick was coated with it. But Thumper ignored that and rammed his dick all the way in. Avery gagged and the other thugs all cheered. They clasped Thumper on his naked back, so close together that Avery could see their floppy cocks brushing up against each other. Either no one noticed or they didn’t care.
Thumper shot his load moments later, grunting and heaving as his wad flowed right down Avery’s throat. He had a huge dick, heavy balls and thick nut, creamy and hot. It tasted sour and sweet and savory all at once, making Avery so aroused he shot his own load into his hands.
Luckily it seemed none of the thugs around him noticed that Avery was jacking himself off — that would surely have tipped them off that he wasn’t the unwilling snitch they all thought he was. He wondered how often they had treated actual snitches like this.
Thumper pulled off. He spat on Avery’s face. “You learn yo’ lesson, snitch?”
“Yes, sir,” Avery said. He didn’t have to force himself to gag when Thumper withdrew his dick, and he gagged again just at the thought of so much cum still clinging to his face.
Thumper reached down and touched Avery’s cheeks. He wiped his hand over Avery’s face, covering his fingers in cum. That much was apparently more than the other thugs expected, because they all clutched each other and hooted like they had never seen something so incredible.
“Damn, Thumper you are one nasty old nigga!”
His hands were callused and firm. Avery licked them clean, and again he didn’t need to force himself to gag. He sucked up every drop off Thumper’s dirty hand, and then when Thumper turned around, Avery kissed his asshole as ordered.
“Give it a nice sloppy kiss, snitch, and then we leave you alone,” Thumper said.
Avery collapsed into a sweaty mess on the floor. He was spent and exhausted. The other men all interpreted it as fear and self-loathing, and they all wagged their dicks in his direction as they put their clothes back on.
“Twenty minutes, bitch,” Thumper said. “You ain’t allowed to clean up for twenty minutes. You sit there with our nasty on yo’ face and think about being a dirty snitch. You can clean yo’self up after twenty minutes.”
They all walked out, leaving Avery there alone to gather his breath. He didn’t know if Thumper had any way of verifying that Avery waited twenty minutes, but he had no intention of disobeying anyway. Avery loved the bukkake all over his face, and he would have stayed there all night if it hadn’t dried and gotten crusty eventually.
Instead Avery waited until the twenty minutes were up, then took a shower. He was surprised to find Thumper waiting for him out in the main room. Thumper grunted.
“You okay?”
Avery nodded. “Thanks, that was-“
“Shut up. I wanted to make sure you was okay,” he said. “I just might have some more homeboys in the future who wanna punish a snitch. You ready to be that snitch?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Good.”

The Retired Boxer Bottoms

Avery is a masseur with an older man as a client. He’s a retired boxer, and he has some interesting ideas about how to get his needs met. Can Avery do what it takes to satisfy his studly new client?

Read it soon as an ebook!

Read the whole thing here!

Avery awkwardly accepted payment from a client. He smiled and said some polite things, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward. This client was a hefty young man, a beefy jock with a powerful body but also a big belly and a hairy, unpleasant ass. He had come to the massage parlor in search of sexy Asian masseuses who could give him a handjob for a few dollars. There were no sexy Asian masseuses here, there was only Avery, and he didn’t give handjobs to tubby stinkbombs.
It was a miscommunication that happened often in this massage parlor right off campus. It simply came with the territory. He didn’t mind — it was awkward, but on the other hand, he sometimes got a hunky jock who was just horny enough to go for it, and on those occasions, Avery both got paid and got to give a handjob.
He was finally almost done with college. He needed this one massage practical credit to complete his degree in physical education. Then, at last, his parents would get off his back about graduating.
He went back into his massage room and cleaned up in preparation for his next client, whose name was Carver Weatherbee. That was such an old-man name it made Avery chuckle to himself. He liked mature men with good physiques, but not old guys. Aa lot of decrepit old men came in here for massages in lieu of surgery they had declined over and over.
Carver Weatherbee was probably another man like that. Avery got a lot of that kind of business because this massage parlor accepted Medicare. They barely paid anything for the massages he gave, but Avery made them quick and simple. Some of those old people told their younger friends, family and nurses that he gave good massages. A lot of those who didn’t want a handjob — who genuinely wanted a massage — preferred to find out about massage parlors through word-of-mouth because all advertising for massage parlors ended up looking prostitute-y.
Carver Weatherbee… Avery snickered. If he was a screenwriter brainstorming names that screamed “old coot”, that’s what he would come up with.
He went out into the waiting area when he heard the bell tinkle, fully expecting to see a rickety white man with an oxygen tank and a Congolese nurse at his side.
Instead, however, he saw a mature black man with the physique of a warrior. Avery blushed and dropped his clipboard. He blanched and covered his face as he picked up it up.
Carver Weatherbee was about fifty, and, though his face didn’t look younger than that, he did have the body of a younger man. He was built like a boxer — which was because he, in fact, was a boxer. Or had been thirty years ago, and he’d been a boxing coach for more than a decade, helping him keep his barrel-shaped box-like stack of muscles intact.
His face was worn and weathered now, wrinkles along his cheeks and his square jaw. His hair was mostly black and streaked with gray, but his unkempt goatee was mostly gray and streaked with black. He chewed on his lower lip.
“Hiyuh,” Carver said with a sigh. He had rather hoped his masseur would be a woman, even though his daughter said that wouldn’t happen — she said “masseur” meant “male”. Carver didn’t believed her. As far as he was concerned, no self-respecting man would ever become a masseur. That was woman’s work.
He had forgotten about pansies, he thought as he followed Avery into the back. The pinkboy shook his ass in a most tantalizing way. Carver flared his nostrils, looking Avery up and down hungrily.
“So, uh, Mr. Weatherbee, is there a specific area of the body you need assistance with? I believe your daughter mentioned you had shoulder pain on the phone.”
“Umm-huh. Shoulder.”
“Okay, okay, well, I’m going to do whatever I can to make you feel better,” Avery said. He opened the door to the massage room.
Carver looked Avery up and down with a horny simmer in his eyes. Avery sensed that, and caught a glimpse of the tall man’s eyes aimed down at Avery’s ass. Was he checking out Avery’s behind? Or was he angry that he had to let a sissy touch him? Could be either one.
“Is it both shoulders that are hurting you?” Avery said. He patted the exam table, and Carver hopped up onto it. He wore a sleeveless work shirt, through which his long, fleshy arms protruded, the sleeveless hole having ripped to the point where Avery could see his side and his armpit. He wore tattered old basketball shorts too, the real long kind they don’t make anymore.
Avery shuddered with desire as Carver took off that shirt and explained. “So, uh, yeah, mistuh, uh, I gots pain in my left shoulder, evuh since this time last year, right, I was helpin’ this homeboy move into a new ‘partment on Windsor Ave, huh? You feel me?”
“Hmmm.” Avery had trouble focusing on his words because Carver’s chest and broad back beckoned. He took a deep breath and quickly checked out Carver’s joints — if there was something seriously wrong, Avery wasn’t allowed to do the massage; he would have to refer him to a doctor or orthopedic surgeon. But he saw no clear anatomical reason for pain.
“So, uh, this homeboy be askin’ me, like can I help and shit? Ya know? And I’s like, yeah, sure, cuz I’m his coach — I coach boxers and shit, y’know? And uh, I was like yeah I help ya motherfucker, but I ain’t know he wasn’t even gonna do nothin’. I ain’t expectin’ payment, ya feel me? I’s doin’ that as a friend. As a coach. As yo’ homeboy. You feel me?”
“Hmmm… Yeah, I, uh-” Avery wasn’t sure how this story seemed to have gotten away from the shoulder pain.
“But he ain’t even try and buy me no dinner or nothin’. He got a Puerto Rican girl too. They can cook, I reckon. They got them little tamale things — they don’t call ’em tamales, they slap the fuck outta you if you call ’em tamales. But they good as shit. I can eat the crap outta them, lemme tell you!” His big booming voice echoed.
“Your shoulder?”
“Right, yeah, so I’s like liftin’ and shit, puttin’ his junk in the truck, right?” He demonstrated himself lifting and even stood as though he needed to re-enact it. Avery didn’t mind watching because it meant he could see those broad shoulders flex and stretch. He even massaged them a little as he looked for anatomical irregularities. Carver continued the story. “See? And I lift his shit up into the truck — he got his girl’s brother to let ‘im borrow that. You best believe I don’t let no one borrow my truck, no suh, I tells ’em straight up I been burned on that one too many times. I don’t care if I’m yo’ coach, yo’ friend, yo’ homeboy, yo’ goddamn identical twin brother, I ain’t handin’ ovuh my truck, ya feel me?”
“Hmm-hmm. Your shoulder?”
“Yeah, so it started hurtin’. I tol’ that homeboy, you best show some goddamn gratitude, ya feel me? I done took you in when ya mama wasn’t takin’ no care of you, and I done raised you like a son, and you can’t even buy yo’ old man some pizza or some shit?”
Avery rolled his eyes. It took that incredibly long story and all he had to say was that he lifted something and his shoulder started hurting. Trying to get information from old people, he thought, was impossible.
“I see, okay,” Avery said. He patted Carver on that broad, firm back. “Go ahead and lay down on your belly. Take off your shorts please.”
Most men only took off their actual shorts, not their underwear. Even the ones who knew Avery would give them a handjob didn’t do that. But for some reason, Carver did, without a second thought.
He just dropped his shorts and his boxers, and flopped his limp dick between his fingers. “You ain’t gonna try and jack me off, is you?”
“No, sir,” Avery said. He was deflated. Obviously that clued him in that Carver was in the no-handjob camp. Avery almost added: unless you want me to but he thought that might not go over very well, so he bit his tongue.
“Shit, I don’t do that handjob nonsense. Man, that is some weakling bullshit,” he said. “I got real man dick, ya feel me? I got homeboy-dick.” He flopped his hefty shaft against his palm, then climbed up onto the massage table.
His back stretched out, his asscheeks bare and quivering as he settled into place. He had nice, huge plump cheeks, not perfect, just slightly fleshy and saggy, just the perfect amount, Avery thought, enough to grab onto and play with but not fat or flabby. He wanted to kiss each cheek.
“Man, I need this shit, damn. Wifey don’t touch me much these days, swear to God,” he said as Avery began kneading his back and his thick muscles. He rolled his spine, undulating as though trying to massage his own back on Avery’s hands.
He had that dense muscularity that barrel-chested men had, and which Avery adored. It felt like there were layer after layer of meaty muscle atop Carver’s body, and Avery caressed every inch of it.
“How’s that feel?”
“Good….” Carver said, letting out a deep roaring moan.
“Okay, you can roll over,” Avery said.
Carver hesitated. “Hey, so, uh… I don’t wanna, like… I mean, I ain’t mean nothin’ by it, but you know… I got a big dick and I get hard at anything, man, I swear, like a homeboy half my age. I ain’t meanin’ nothin’. I ain’t sayin’ I is gonna ramrod you or nothin’.”
“Oh? Do you have an erection? That’s okay, it’s very common,” Avery said.
Carver grimaced as he rolled over. His foot-long cock throbbed, as hard as his muscles beneath all his padding. That was not as common as Avery had implied — sure a little chubby here and there was normal, but a full-on throbbing boner? That was not typical.
As professionally as he could muster and without looking at Carver’s dick, Avery massaged his chest and his shoulders. Carver closed his eyes. He grunted like he was frustrated.
“Man, lemme show you a spot… Okay?” Carver’s callused paw gripped Avery’s hand.
Avery sucked in his breath. Carver brought Avery’s hand down to his cock. His fingers brushed against it. Carver opened his eyes wide.
“I thought you didn’t want me to… Do you…?” Avery blushed, his heart thumping.
“Ssssssh… I don’t wanna hear you askin’ no questions,” Carver said. “I said I don’t want no handjob, cuz I’m a real man. That don’t mean you can’t touch it a bit.” He gently touched Avery’s head. “You act a sissy, right?”
Avery nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He licked his lips. “Goddamn, I love it when whiteboys call me sir.” He watched as Avery’s hand wrapped around his cock and began stroking. Carver instantly threw his head back, sighed and pistoned his hips, forcing his dick up and into Avery’s hand.
He kept touching Avery’s head. It was obvious he wanted Avery’s mouth, but didn’t want to ask for it. Avery slowly lowered his head. He pretended to be hesitant, like he had never done it before. “Do you want me… to put my mouth on it?”
“Shush, no questions, boy. Just do what comes natural. You the massager, you know how to do it. Just massage me, okay? Massage me like you feel-” He groaned as Avery’s mouth touched his dick.
He guided Avery’s head as he licked the shaft, then suckled on the tip, making lots of spit drip down into Carver’s crotch. Avery deep-throated him the best he could.
Carver’s hand remained on his head, pushing and pulling him up and down. It soon became apparent he wanted Avery to focus on the underside of his shaft.
“Yeah, lick it down real low, man, lick it real low,” Carver said with a throaty moan.
Avery did so. He placed his head underneath Carver’s big black cock, which flopped all over his face. He licked and slathered spit on the throbbing vein there, near the base of his dick where it met his scrotum.
“Hmmm… You doin’ real good, boy, just keep slurpin’. Do what comes natural to ya. I know you like dick, right? You like balls too, most likely, I ‘xpect,” he said. He moistly sucked on his lower lip, making his salt-and-pepper goatee shake.
Does he want me to lick his balls? That seemed to be where he was pushing Avery’s head, so Avery obliged. They were big and full, ripe, moist with sweat and precum. He tasted salty and delicious. Avery guzzled it down and let his mouth with fill with that heavy sac, until his nose was pressed into the base of his shaft.
“Hmm, you got it, you got it good, boy, hell…”
Then in one smooth motion, without a word of warning, Carver lifted his legs. He was laying on his back, and he lifted his giant trunk-like thighs. That gave Avery easy access to Carver’s balls.
And his taint and his asshole. Does he want a rimjob now?
Avery did it. He licked a trail down Carver’s taint to his ass and plowed his tongue right in. Carver shuddered and moaned.
“I ain’t say you could lick my butthole, boy,” he said. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look down. He grabbed Avery by the hair and made eye contact with him. “I’ll allow it this time, but I don’t let no one play wit’ my butthole. No fingers.”
Avery nodded. He was definitely trying to get me to lick his ass, he thought. What game is Carver playing? But for now, he just licked
Carver’s ass was warm and funky and just slightly hairy, just enough to remind Avery he was licking a man. Still though, he sensed Carver wasn’t quite done. Carver was waiting for something. When Avery tried to jack him off as he lapped at his asshole, Carver swatted his hand away.
Does he want to ramrod me? Avery was excited at the prospect.
Carver took Avery’s hand in his once more, taking it away from his cock and to his ass. He seemed to want Avery to spread his cheeks to get his tongue deeper in there.
“Don’t you dare finger me, sissy,” Carver said with a knowing smirk on his face.
Avery caught that smirk and stopped licking for a moment. Was Carver hinting the opposite of what he said? His face looked sarcastic. Did he want to get fingered? He dragged Avery’s finger closer to his ass.
“There ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ gettin’ pleasure, boy,” Carver said. “I can get pleasure from all kinda females. Ya know? They do… different things.”
“Hmm-hmm.” Avery pulled off his asshole and slurped up all the moisture that leaked out of his tight hole. “Did you want me-?”
“No questions. Just do what comes natural, sissy. If I don’t like it, I will smack the tongue outta yo’ mouth,” he said, with a moist, gravelly mouth.
“I…” Avery wasn’t sure what to do or say. He resumed licking, but this time he planted his finger very near Carver’s hole. He played with the rim, just pressing down lightly.
Carver again pushed his hand, just a tiny bit, pushing his finger a half-inch lower.
That made Avery’s fingertip slip into Carver’s ass. Carver grunted and groaned, his whole body coming alive. He writhed in exquisite pleasure. Carver closed his eyes and covered his eyes with his arm, which bared his big furry armpit.
“Hmm, whiteboy, I like the way you think. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ gettin’ a nut off in strange places, is there? Nosuh, nothin’ wrong wit’ that at all.” He sucked in his breath as Avery’s entire pinkie finger slid into his ass.
His ass is definitely not intact, Avery thought. He kept fingering Carver with one pinkie while jacking him off with his other hand. It made him giggle to think his tiny pinkie finger could bring such intense pleasure to such a large man.
He found Carver’s prostate and pressed, making Carver’s whole body quiver and flex. Carver sucked in his breath.
“You got a big dick, sissy?”
Avery blushed and looked up from Carver’s ass. His voice was shaky. “Uh… Not… huge, I guess. It’s… normal.”
Carver grunted as though he didn’t care. “I know you wanna bring it out. Don’t me stop you. Don’t you dare try and stick it in my ass. I ain’t on the DL.”
Now what was this? Given everything that had happened up to now, the only reasonable explanation was that Carver wanted to take dick in his ass.
But surely that wasn’t it.
Regardless, Avery did take his dick out and gave it a few strokes. He was ready to bust any time. He kept licking and fingering Carver’s ass, using both pinkies now, not even stroking him off. Carver had both hands behind his head.
“Shit, man, that little whiteboy dick ain’t barely bigger than yo’ pinkie,” Carver said. “Wouldn’t hurt at all to take that in.”
That had to be a sign. First of all, Carver hadn’t even looked. He didn’t know how big Avery’s dick was. Secondly, Avery’s dick was much bigger than any pinkie finger. He didn’t have a giant dick like Carver, but he was certainly way bigger than a pinkie finger.
He wants to get cornholed.
“Have you ever… y’know… been cornholed?” Avery asked. He blushed.
“I done ramrod some prison bitches and certain disreputable mothahfuckahs who needed to get taught a lesson,” Carver said. He chuckled, making his whole body writhe and clench around Avery’s fingers.
“So you don’t want to… get ramrodded now?”
“Man, yo’ questions is ruinin’ the mood. I said no questions,” Carver said. “I ain’t a bumbasher.”
Avery frowned. He still didn’t have a clear answer. Was a bumbasher a sissy? Or a ramrod? Either way, it wasn’t an answer to the question. “So if I started to put my dick near your ass, like this-” He stood up excruciatingly slowly and wedged his dick into Carver’s asscheeks. “You’d stop me if you were going to hit me for doing it?”
“I ain’t some kinda bashful homeboy. I will beat yo’ ass if you even think ’bout makin’ me into yo’ bitch,” Carver said, his eyes scrunched tightly shut. He closed his eyes, reached for his own ass and gripped Avery’s cock. He guided it to his hole. “You gonna stick it in, sissy?”
Avery thought the more he said, the less likely Carver was to keep going. So he just shrugged and slipped the tip of his dick in. Carver’s hairy tree-like thighs trembled. He had been holding them aloft for a long time, but he showed no signs of being exhausted.
With a stool to stand on, Avery was able to slowly drill his cock in. Carver squirmed and writhed as though he was already on the verge of pleasure — obviously, Avery thought, Carver loved the butt-stuff.
“Have you ever been ramrodded before-?”
“Hey!” Carver barked, wincing because that made his ass move painfully around Avery’s dick. “Hey! I ain’t nevuh get ramrodded, no way. I got… I got pleasures deep inside me, and yeah, I let mothahfuckahs go diggin’ for ’em…” He smiled like he was imagining it, and he even touched Avery’s chest as though there might be breasts there. “You pretty as pink, boy. I can forgive you not having titties. But remember, no way am I lettin’ you ram me — I got anal integrity, yessuh! I will let you… you know… when we in the throes of passion, boy, rules don’t apply. Don’t you dare go thinkin’-” He howled as Avery’s dick slipped the rest of the way in. “C’mon, boy, slam it in. Work it!”
Avery tried to plow him hard. But Carver was so much bigger than him that it was awkward, and Avery had to hold onto his legs for support. He pushed his meat in, using all of his might to keep Carver’s massive flesh in position.
He stroked Carver off at the same time, making it hard for Carver to stay still. He squirmed and gasped and bit his lip, undulating beneath Avery. Avery had never rammed anyone like this — not anyone that old, anyone that strong, anyone that macho.
He had never even thought this might be where his appointment with Carver Weatherbee would go.
It was obvious Carver was aroused because he shot his wad before Avery. Avery was still plowing into him over and over, making his big asscheeks shake. He felt Carver’s hole clench around him, and Carver let out a bellowing scream.
He gripped Avery by the neck and pulled him roughly down to his face. He kissed Avery on the mouth, tongue ramming violently in as Carver sprayed his cumwad all over his belly. Carver gagged too, from the taste of his own ass still clinging to Avery’s face, but that didn’t slow him down any. He kept on kissing as Avery plowed in and out of his ass.
At last, Avery orgasmed too, his tongue still intertwined in Carver’s. Carver’s goatee scratched at his face.
Great creamy gobs of cum filled Carver’s tight ass, more and more pouring out with each thrust of Avery’s hips. He slammed into Carver over and over — it was nice to plow such a big man, Avery thought, because he could really take a pounding.
“Ah, god-“
“Fuck yeah, whiteboy! Get it in there!” Carver slammed his fists on his chest and screamed in both pain and pleasure.
Avery shot the biggest load of his life. He’d never done anything like that. It made him scream and shout too, but his voice was much weaker than Carver’s.
Then, it was done. Avery blinked a few times, still in shock that this had even happened. His dick limpened slowly. He let it pour out of Carver’s ass, which gripped it as though not going to let go, even though Carver gritted his teeth and growled as though he wanted Avery to pull out faster.
“Ah, shit, whiteboy…”
Every inch sliding out of his ass was exquisite pleasure for both of them. Carver’s heart pounded, his whole body tensing and shaking until at last, Avery’s dick plopped out.
Carver was suddenly exhausted. He closed his eyes. His legs flopped down, nearly knocking Avery to the floor. Carver sprawled out on the massage table, arms dangling off the sides.
“Hmmm… You okay?” Avery asked.
“Hmm-hmm. You give a good massage,” Carver said. He didn’t open his eyes though. Avery got some tissues and wiped Carver’s dick clean, and then he rolled over so Avery could clean his ass.
“Thanks,” Avery said. He blushed. Carver looked like he wanted to take a nap. “Uh… did you…-?”
Carver sighed and stood. He looked down at his massive dick, dangling between his legs, and he winced at the pain in his ass. “Hey, boy, if I send you some homeboys. Boxers — they won’t all be homeboys, some’ll be Puerto Rican,” he said. “Would you take care of ’em?”
“Take care of them how?”
“You’ll see. Just do what comes natural, boy,” Carver said. He took his clothes in hand and walked out, not even getting dressed. His dick swung, still a bit hard, thwacking his meaty thighs. He sniffed his own armpit and wrinkled his nose. “Need a shower, damn…” he murmured to no one in particular.
Avery was too exhausted to tell him to put his clothes on before leaving the building. He didn’t care. Carver would figure it out, he thought, and after that tense encounter, Avery just wanted to nap.
Luckily he had no clients for a couple hours. Just as luckily, Avery was already excited about the prospect of a bevy of boxers coming through. What did Carver expect him to do with them? Avery could imagine he meant anything from giving a real massage to plowing them hard.
Oh well, he figured. I’ll enjoy anything in between there.

The Gigolo

Galeno is a gigolo who makes love to women for money, but he just might be willing to service Teddy too… Can Teddy convince him to cross the thin lavender line?

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Teddy placed a plate of chicken on the bar in front of the couple, who nodded at him but didn’t pay much attention. The woman didn’t look at him because she was focused on her man, Galeno. Galeno didn’t look at Teddy because he was a man on a mission. Teddy might as well have been invisible.
Galeno used the chopsticks to pick up a piece of chicken. He popped it in her mouth and she squealed. Galeno smiled, showing off those dimples to die for.
Arousal filled the air, virtually radiating off the couple and making the whole bar feel like a bordello. Teddy found it difficult to look away because Galeno was so handsome.
Teddy worked in the Rockhard Country Club and he’d become increasingly certain that Galeno was a gigolo. The place was chock-full of women, more than most country clubs, and Galeno was usually with one.
He wasn’t with the same one every night though. He cycled between them. He could, of course, have simply been a player, maybe he got laid a lot. Teddy was jealous of those ladies. That didn’t mean Galeno was a gigolo. But it was the only thing that really made sense to Teddy.
Galeno never got “caught”. After more than a year of constant womanizing out of the same country club, that seemed unlikely. Surely at some point, a woman he had been with previously would come in to the country club she was a member of. She’d see Galeno with another woman. Teddy was pretty sure that had happened at least once, when he saw a woman coming in whom he’d seen with Galena a few weeks prior. But the woman had just shrugged at the sight of Galeno with a different woman.
So him being a gigolo made sense, that would explain it too.
Of course they could have just broken up, maybe that was why she didn’t get upset. That was another reasonable explanation. Teddy couldn’t quite be sure. It simply violated everything he thought he knew about sexual interaction to assume Galeno could serially date every woman in this place and not spark any kind of jealous encounter or public breakup.
He didn’t want to look like he was spying on them, so Teddy didn’t stick around at the bar. Galeno and his current woman were eating their chicken very slowly and would not likely order anything else. He poured a couple wines for one of the waitresses, then went to the walk-in to get more limes.
There was a woman there crying. She had scurried behind the wall separating the corridor from the bar and restaurant, so nobody could see her until they came up close. She had her face in her arm, buried against the wall. A loud choked sob came from her lips.
“Uh… Miss?” Teddy came closer.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. She wiped her tears away. “I just… I don’t feel quite like myself.”
“You don’t need to apologize. If you want, you can sit in the pantry right there, that’s even more alone than this hall. You can sit in the walk-in too, but that’s pretty cold. You might not like it there,” Teddy said. “I love your necklace, by the way.” It was just a glittery piece of gold, nothing special, but Teddy thought she needed a pick-me-up.
“Thanks.” She sniffled.
“Is there something I can do to make you feel better?”
“Not unless you can turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats,” she said with a sniffle.
Teddy shrugged. “I’ve never tried to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be stepfather to three ungrateful brats. Lemme try.” He closed his eyes and pulled on his ears like he was a silly kids’ magician doing a trick. “Abracadabra!” He paused. “Did it work? Ah… no, I still don’t wanna be a stepdad.” He frowned at her. “Sorry. The answer is no, I don’t have the ability to turn into an employed man who’s willing to be a stepfather to three ungrateful brats.”
She laughed through her tears. “Thanks for trying. I guess I should have mentioned you’d have to be willing to marry me too.”
“You’re just full of rules.”
“I’d even be willing to forget about the stepfather-thing. I just want a man to take me seriously… I got stood up by this man as soon as he saw me and I told him I had three kids. We got along great online, we chatted for hours… And then he just snuck out on our first date. He said he had to go to the bathroom, and he disappeared.”
“Oh… That’s terrible… Look on the bright side: He could have been kidnapped by yakuza.”
A smile flickered over her face. “You’re silly. I’m Carla, and I-“
They were interrupted by an angry shout from the bar. Teddy turned to look and saw Galeno watching as a woman stormed away. She had thrown her drink in his face. Galeno shrugged. He wiped his face off, then finished his chicken.
“Excuse me, Carla,” Teddy said. He hurried back to the bar to clean up the liquor that had spilled.
Galeno nodded at him. “Good evening,” he said in that cloying Brazilian accent. “Sorry about the mess, senhor.” He had long curly black hair that extended well past his shoulders, and dusky brown skin. His accent fit him like the tailored suit he also wore. His dimples mesmerized like a swaying cobra. The sight of those compelling brown eyes made Teddy’s knees weak, and the feel of his hot breath glancingly condensing on Teddy’s arm made him want to swoon into Galeno’s powerful arms.
“Uh, so…” Teddy glanced back at the corridor beyond which he saw Betty’s shadow. Teddy cleared his throat. “You’re really into girls, right?”
Galeno scoffed.
“Do you… accept money from them?”
Galeno nodded. “That is why she left from here. She paid for one day, and she got it, for absolutely. I told her she must do payment for more time or I would leave,” he said with a sigh. His accent stuck in Teddy’s ears and made him crave more. Galeno’s soft skin beckoned. His English was good, not perfect, but perfectly wrong. Galeno made a kissy face and said, “She believed I did fallen into love with her.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I did. I fall into love with all women, no matter their size or age or shape. They have such beautiful flavors, and each one is a papaya of infinite sweetness. I could consume their tender womanhoods for hours, each one different but each one the same, and-” Galeno saw Teddy’s expression and fell flat. “Yes, I like women. But they must pay. I give them very much good love, it is worth it.”
“So you’d… be with a woman whose kind of thick and maybe needs someone else to do her makeup for her?” Teddy asked. Galeno nodded. Teddy continued, “Well… I’ve got a client for you. What do you charge?”
“For a whole day? I would ask-“
“A day? What am I, a vicarious nymphomaniac?”
“O que você quer dizer?”
“Nevermind, no, not a whole day. Just… an hour.”
He shrugged. “Four hundred dollars.”
“I can do that,” Teddy said. He took it out of his tips for the day. It was most of his tips so far today, but he could handle that. The Rockhard Country Club paid pretty good, and Teddy made tips on top of that.
Teddy went back to Carla, who was preparing to leave. He smiled at her. “I found you a man.”
“What? How?!”
“Well… Don’t get attached, he’s a gigolo,” Teddy said. “But I paid for him to satisfy you for an hour.” Teddy gestured to Galeno, who was getting up from the bar. His handsome face was framed by his magnificent mane.
Carla blushed and her knees went weak. She couldn’t stop giggling. “Oh, uh… He’s… He’s… a… Oh… I…”
Galeno came closer and took Betty’s hand in his. She blushed. Galeno leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Isso não significa nada.”
She swooned into his arms, and wrapped her hands around his well-muscled chest. Galeno’s hand roamed up and down her back as he led her away. Her breasts heaved, and Teddy could sense that her heart quickened. A few beads of sweat appeared on her forehead. She erupted in a salad of giggles, while Galeno smiled at whatever she said.
They went to the disabled bathroom near the locker rooms. Teddy went back to the bar, a little disappointed that he didn’t even get to watch or anything. The bar was pretty quiet today. Nothing much to do. He sighed.
He went back to the disabled bathroom and put his head to the door. He couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of Carla orgasming. You could tell she was having her pussy eaten, Teddy thought. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he could tell, that was a cunnilingus orgasm. He pictured Galeno’s broad brown back muscles writhing as he lapped at her womanhood.
Teddy wanted him bad. As a great admirer of the male physique, Teddy thought Galeno was ideal, his perfectly sculpted body suitable to model for Adonis or Heracles. He was so handsome Teddy thought it’d be weird, he didn’t have any frame of reference for how it felt to walk around with a face like that.
Perhaps he would let Teddy explore his body one day. Usually men only did that when they were horny and couldn’t nab a woman though, and it seemed unlikely that that would ever be a problem for a man like Galeno.
In any case, Teddy had other goals. He was trying to get this nineteen year-old caddy Noah who worked at the club and had a delightfully perfect body. He was much more reasonable. He had as much as said he would let a man jack him off for an X-Box. Teddy just needed to get him alone sometime, and he needed to buy an X-Box so he could make the deal whenever the time was right.
That nineteen year-old didn’t work today though. Teddy would have to wait for next week. Noah might have had a girlfriend now too, which would probably put the kibosh on Teddy’s efforts.
Noah vanished from his mind moments later though, when he saw Carla stumbling out of that disabled bathroom, positively aglow with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her hair was a mess — it had been a mess before, but now it looked like birds had built a nest in it. She was dazed, and she didn’t even notice Teddy. It looked like she was still orgasming a little bit, her whole body twitching with every step.
Galeno sat down. “Cup in water, please,” he said. “I am feeling of thirst.” He smacked his chapped lips.
Teddy gave him the water. “So, Galeno… how was it? Was she nice?”
He shrugged, and he flashed a grin that accentuated his dimples. “She was good. Thank you for the business.”
“You’re welcome. Do you…-?”
“Yes, I will be with men as well, but only on top, and I charge fifty percent more,” he said. His accent was noticeably less pronounced when discussing money.
“Oh, so…”
“Three hundred dollars for an hour.”
“Well, shit,” Teddy said. “I’d have never bought you for her if I’d known that. Will you be ready to go again at midnight? That’s when I get off-“
He chuckled. “I am Brazilian. I can go again as soon as you wish,” he said proudly. “We have, eh, the, eh… infinite manhood.”
Teddy blushed and giggled again. This time, his giggles had become flirtatious. Teddy touched Galeno’s bicep through his polo shirt. It flexed under his touch. Galeno smiled, showing off his dimples. Teddy’s knees went weak again.
Then a customer came in, and Teddy had to make a drink. He left Galeno there at the bar. He was so excited he dropped the first glass, heart racing as he looked forward to his little rendezvous with Galeno.
Eventually midnight came, and Galeno had vanished. Teddy was disappointed. He supposed that Galeno probably found a woman — a second woman of the night. Even if he charged men more than women, Galeno would probably always choose a female client over a male.
But still, Teddy was hopeful that he’d land Galeno eventually. Obviously it was within the realm of possibility, he just needed to get the timing right. Really though, that was true of all men. If Teddy got in there at the right time and with the right incentive, any hunk would swing downlow.
The bar gradually emptied out as midnight approached, and then Teddy was alone. He cleaned up, exhausted, disappointed, more tired than he should be because he had been excited about getting it in the ass from a real Brazilian gigolo and now it seemed that wasn’t happening.
But there he was.
Galeno walked into the bar, alone, looking substantially different than before. He had changed out of his fine suit and into a brilliantly colored sleeveless shirt made of something like nylon, below which he wore a pair of shorts that were the same color. They were too short by modern American standards, but they weren’t “short shorts”, they were just old-fashioned, Teddy thought, or foreign — presumably typical of Brazil.
His hair was wet, his skin a little moist, whether from shower water or sweat, Teddy couldn’t tell. He was mesmerized by those deep brown eyes in which he lost himself.
“Hello,” Galeno said. He kept talking, but Teddy couldn’t hear. Galeno ran his fingers through his hair. He lowered his head and kissed Teddy on the lips. He picked Teddy up and walked into the walk-in pantry that was around the corner, near where Carla had been sobbing earlier.
Teddy was dizzy. He had been reconciled to the fact that Galeno wouldn’t be with him, and now here he was. He smelled faintly musky, but with a clean, fruity scent.
He didn’t know that Galeno had done this for him — Galeno had been hired by more than one man over the years, and he knew well how to appeal to them. While women preferred him in a clean suit like a businessman, men preferred him in a skimpy outfit to show off his muscles. Galeno had gone for a quick jog to get good and sweaty, then showered without soap — just rinsed off — so he would be musky while still smelling clean. If he had more time, he would have grown one day’s worth of beard-stubble too and even let his chest sprout a layer of fur. But that would require more than an hour and three hundred dollars.
Teddy felt like the heroine of a romance novel. He rubbed his face against the smooth muscle of Galeno’s bicep, and his fingers danced over Galeno’s chest.
Galeno deposited him in the pantry. It smelled strongly of rice and olive oil, with a tropical scent that was straight out of Brazil — was that the pantry? Or was that Galeno? Teddy didn’t know. He nuzzled Galeno’s chest, his hands roaming under his shirt and lifting it over his head.
Teddy was surprised at how passionate and involved Galeno was. A lot of times when he paid a man to jack off with him, the man acted like he wasn’t involved, like he was just renting his body out for a little while. That was hot; Teddy didn’t mind it.
But Galeno was different. Galeno treated him like a woman who needed to be seduced, showered with kisses and affection. Galeno had no hesitation about kissing a man, it seemed, and his hands even explored Teddy’s body.
That was because Galeno was Brazilian. Like most Brazilian men, Galeno saw himself as so horny, so virile and so masculine that he could be aroused by anyone, and he did not see it as problematic to do anything at all with a man — except get penetrated. He thought nothing of kissing a man on the lips, or even licking that man’s asshole like it was a pussy.
That was what Galeno did. He kissed a trail down Teddy’s slim, pale body, which trembled beneath his touch. Galeno tasted the tender sweetness of his skin, and pulled his pants down.
“Hmmm… You have nice… how do you say… uh… buttocks?” Galeno remembered the word ass, of course, but he knew it was alluring when he pretended to forget English words during the heat of the moment. “It is tasting of sweetness, yes?”
“Yes…” Teddy gasped. He hadn’t expected Galeno to lick his ass. Men didn’t normally do that.
But to Galeno, this was little different than licking a vagina, which he did expertly and often. He enjoyed the harsh funkiness of it, the intense flavor, and the deeply rutting sensation it aroused within him. It was almost enough to get him hard even without a woman in the room.
He lapped at Teddy’s ass until it was good and loose. Then, pulling his face away, Galeno nodded and smiled. Teddy was good and ready, both loose and tight at once. Teddy was on all fours now, and Galeno placed his pinkie finger right there at the entrance to his asshole. He didn’t penetrate him fully, just teased the rim, which made Teddy cry out.
“Hmmmm… you feel so good, my little namorado…” Galeno said breathlessly, aiming his words directly into Teddy’s mouth.
The one thing Galeno didn’t get to do to often was get his dick wet. Few of the women who paid for his services were willing to spend time sucking on his dick.
Galeno kept his finger at Teddy’s ass to keep it open and ready, stretching over Teddy’s back to reach it. That gave Teddy enough room to pop his lips on Galeno’s cock.
“Aaaaaaaaaah…….” Galeno let out a long, cringing moan as soon as Teddy’s lips touched his dick. He could tell that sound excited Teddy, so Galeno did it again and again.
A surge of pleasure hit him. Sometimes messing with Galeno could be clinical; it was a set-menu, a series of practiced actions he could perform in his sleep, each one bringing his clients to new heights of ecstasy. It was nice to do something new for a change, to pleasure somebody different than what he was recently used to. He moaned, glad he could be as loud and as deep as he wanted — that turned off most of the women who paid for his services, but not Teddy.
His cock rocketed to full erection. It tasted clean from his shower, but with that funky aftertaste that Teddy adored. He deep-throated it to the root, letting Galeno plow into his face. Teddy didn’t mind an aggressive dick in his throat, but Galeno, of course, didn’t do that. Galeno casually and caringly humped Teddy’s tongue and the back of his throat.
“Ah, yes, you have such a soft, perfect mouth,” Galeno said with another moan. He guided Teddy’s hand up to feel his nipples, and he flexed his pecs to make Teddy croon.
Finally he felt a few drops of precum hit Teddy’s tongue, which Galeno took as a sign it was time to move on. He quickly pulled Teddy up and had him bend over the shelves of the pantry. Teddy gripped one shelf tightly.
“Oh god, stick it in me, Galeno!”
“Hmmm… Kiss me…” Galeno pulled Teddy’s head to face him, and he planted his lips tightly on Teddy’s. His cock drilled in to Teddy’s tight hole, which was still open because of Galeno’s tongue and finger.
Teddy yelped, fingers tightening into claws that dug at the shelf. Galeno gripped his shoulders and slid his dick in, inch by inch.
This was another matter that was better with men than with women — women rarely chose anal sex, and when they did, they rarely wanted Galeno to fuck hard. They liked a slow, languorous fuck, something they could experience without a single note of discomfort.
Men, however, liked to jack off with force and power.
Galeno wasn’t aggressive, but he was plenty hard. His long hair swayed around his head as he gripped Teddy’s shoulders with one hand, and his hips with the other. He held him in place as he drilled his cock in all the way, until his balls slapped against Teddy’s thighs.
Immediately, Teddy let out a howl as a surge of pleasure wracked his body. He’d never been plowed up the butt quite like this. Galeno seemed to know exactly where his prostate was, and with each thrust of his hips, he stimulated it to a new plateau of intense bliss.
“Oh god, yes!”
Galeno chuckled at the sight of Teddy writhing beneath him. He leaned his head down, rubbing his chest muscles over Teddy’s smooth back. He whispered in Teddy’s ear, “Você está ativado por idiomas estrangeiros, sim?”
Teddy didn’t know what that meant, but he was too overwhelmed by the sensations exploding within him to notice; the sound was too arousing to think, and Galeno’s smooth voice echoed in his mind. He didn’t even realize how long he stood there, leaning against the shelves as he got reamed. He was shocked to learn it was almost midnight when he finally shot his load.
It was an intense and wild orgasm for Teddy, though Galeno was more subdued. Galeno moaned moistly into Teddy’s ear, licking his earlobe. That was enough to send Teddy over the edge at just the right moment for Galeno — who always preferred his men to cum just before Galeno did.
Teddy’s wad sprayed onto the shelf in front of him, making a puddle that sit in front of the trash bags. Galeno kept going, ramming his dick in and out as hard as he could now, since Teddy was wide-open enough to take it.
Creamy cum filled Teddy up, great gobs of it that seeped into his flesh. It was warm and sticky. He could feel it trickling through his body and slipping out into his asscrack.
“Ah, yes, Teddy…” Galeno moaned again. “You feel so sweetly…” He gasped and kissed the back of Teddy’s neck. He hadn’t expected this to feel so good.
But he often thought that after jacking off with men. It was just because they were different, he thought, they felt new and fresh. Plus the women who hired him mostly did so because they had trouble with men — they were too fat, too old, too tall, too stentorian, too mean, and Galeno was able to satisfy them. But feminine men like Teddy were perfectly fine.
So for Galeno, this was almost as intense an orgasm as for Teddy, and he drained a massive load deep into Teddy’s ass. Teddy groaned along with him, then they both fell silent. Galeno sucked on his teeth and kissed Teddy’s head again.
“Yes…” he said with a grunt. He pulled out and Teddy twitched, then fell limp. One final spasm of bliss coursed through both men, who both let out a final rumbling moan of desire.
Teddy giggled as he struggled to stand on weakened knees. He turned around and leaned against Galeno’s chest. He sucked some of the sweat off there. “Hmmm… You taste good, Galeno.”
Galeno nodded. “You have three minutes,” he said.
Teddy smiled and hugged him close. “I better make the best of it.” He looked up at Galeno. “You’re really good at what you do. Are all Brazilian men that good?”
Galeno sniffled and puffed out his chest. “All Brazilian men are better lovers, it is certain. They are better than any man. But I am better than them all.”
Warmth suffused Teddy as he hugged Galeno and smiled, rubbing his face against his chest and stroking his dick for three minutes. By the time he was done, Teddy was already thinking about going to Brazil.

Three Generations of Workers

Avery finds himself celebrating Thanksgiving with a family of construction workers, the Dalmans, who one by one let Avery service every inch of their blue-collar meats! Can Avery satisfy the Dalman clan?!

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Avery came back to his apartment above the garage after his sister and her family left. He was glad to be alone.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and he had spent all day with his sister, her husband and their three daughters. It had been excruciatin. While he loved his nieces very much, he did not love spending more than a few hours with them. They were exhausting, annoying, loud and they smelled bad.
He had gotten through one whole day though, and he was done with that until Christmas. At least, he thought, he had managed to avoid going to his brother-in-law’s family’s Thanksgiving celebration. That was where the rest of the family was at today, the day after Thanksgiving. The whole family had gone to Redding to see the grandparents.
That gave Avery a free day. He lived above the garage, so he didn’t live in the house, but he could go there when he needed to. Today he hung out in his underwear, eating leftovers and watching the big-screen TV his brother-in-law had recently bought.
About three o’clock, however, there was a knock on the door.
“Hey, man, we’re having a Thanksgiving dinner next door,” said the man in the doorway. He was Junior Dalman, and he was so well-built he filled the doorway like a Greek god. Junior was middle-aged and burly, the co-owner of a construction company his father had founded. He had a few tinges of gray in his beard, and his hairy chest was visible through his shirt. He kept his hair cut very short, like a military crew-cut, though he was never in the military.
Avery explained that the family was gone. As it turned out, the Dalmans were doing something similar but in reverse: They had all spent Thanksgiving scattered among various girlfriends, in-laws and others, and now the Dalman men were having their own Thanksgiving the day after.
“But, uh, we was supposed to have my ex and her sister and daughters, but they ain’t show up,” Junior said. He scowled a little but didn’t explain why. “So we gonna have lots of extra food fo’ sure.”
The only reason Avery agreed is that Junior was handsome, as was Junior’s son, PJ, a college lacrosse star who also did construction work on the side. Avery didn’t really want to go anywhere or do anything today, but he did want to look at the Dalmans.
PJ had shaggy blond hair, which he obviously cut himself, all uneven and ratty, a bit greasy but only in a good way. Avery shook his hand, hoping he didn’t look like he had a crush (which he did). PJ’s arm muscles flexed as he shook up and down. Avery smiled and patted PJ on the bicep at the same time, holding back a gasp and moan of desire. His bicep was firm and rock-like.
“Hey, man, are you putting money on the game? My money’s on the Raiders,” he said.
“Oh, I don’t really watch football,” Avery said. He smiled. “But, uh, I guess if everyone else is, I could put a few bucks on the Raiders. That way I can root with you.” Avery blushed again — he thought that made him sound like a PJ fanboy, which he was.
Much to Avery’s surprise, there was only one other person there — Percy Dalman, PJ’s grandfather and Junior’s father. Much to Avery’s even greater surprise, Percy was handsome as hell. He had gray hair, but it was long and shaggy like his grandson, and he was built like a powerhouse despite his age. He was crackly and windswept, and he dressed in baggy shorts and a hip hop tee shirt that looked ridiculous on a man his age.
After eating some fruit — a fruit platter had been purchased for the womenfolk, none of whom showed up, so Avery was as feminine as was going to be there all day, and it was up to Avery to eat the fruit — Avery sat down next to PJ.
The football game was on, but Avery paid little attention. He cheered when PJ did. Avery paid most of his attention to PJ, who shifted and wiggled on the love-seat they shared. PJ was more than a hundred pounds heavier — solid muscle — than Avery and took up much more space. Avery didn’t mind, and he even found himself sitting there with his arm on the back of the couch, tantalizingly close to hugging PJ’s muscled back.
“He’s gonna keep throwing, I can tell,” Percy said with a sneer as the second quarter was about to begin. “Fuckin’ punk, needs to run. They got runners.”
“Nah, Pops, running is for pussies,” PJ said with a laugh. “Man, they should always throw-“
“Shut the fuck up, son,” Junior said.
“Passing sucks!”
“Them’s the Raiders, son! You best believe they know what they’re doing,” Pops said. “There’s history in that franchise-“
“Pops, shut up!” PJ moaned and covered his face.
“Hey PJ,” Avery said. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks they run the next play and get a first down.” His gently lilting voice drove the conversation to a halt.
PJ paused, then said, “Fine, bro.”
“He ain’t got fifty cents, man,” Junior said.
“I do so!” PJ said, his voice defensive enough that Avery realized PJ indeed had little money. He might have been telling the truth about having fifty cents, but he wouldn’t be able to pay the bet. That was okay with Avery, who thought he might get something out of today after all.
Finally the game resumed, and Avery watched with baited breath — he actually enjoyed lacrosse for once — as the play began.
The quarterback handed the ball to a runner. Avery cheered, as did Junior and Percy. Only PJ groaned as the player sprinted up the field, easily getting a first down. PJ leaned back and closed his eyes.
“What a fucking idiot, who runs?!”
“It’s an important part of the game, jackass. You know until the 50s, it was almost all running? Throwing the ball wasn’t allowed most of the time until the NFL changed the rules,” Percy said.
“Well, they knew what they were doing. They got the down.”
“You best pay up your fifty dollars,” Junior said with a sneer.
PJ blushed. “Well, yeah. I, uh… I might have to owe you on that one.”
Avery smiled. He patted PJ on the thigh. “Don’t worry about it-“
PJ shook his head. “I always pay my debts-“
“You mean you get me to pay your debts,” Junior said with an angry snarl.
“I always pay my debts, man, I don’t want any charity.”
“Except for student loans and your mom paying your tuition and your coach giving you free tutoring and your free health care courtesy of the Democrats-“
“Shut up, Dad,” PJ said. He glared at his father and grandfather, who continued to make faces at each other and laugh.
But Avery just patted PJ on the shoulder and said, “Well, I would gladly forgive the debt if you do something for me. I could use a pair of big strong arms for something. Come on next door, I’ll show you.”
He nodded. He seemed glad to be away from his dad and grandfather, who still snickered and listed all of the charity that PJ received. Avery wished he could walk behind PJ, so he could watch his gigantic lacrosse-toned ass sway. PJ filled out his jersey and workout shorts well. But PJ was following Avery, since Avery was the one who knew where they were going.
He led PJ over to the garage where he lived, and brought him up to his apartment. Then Avery closed the door and grinned at PJ.
“So whatcha need, man?”
“Well, I thought, instead of paying me fifty dollars,” Avery said. “You let me drop to my knees like this.” He did so. PJ’s eyes opened wide. Avery licked his lips. “And close your eyes. You can just do what comes naturally.”
“Oh.” PJ blushed until his cheeks were bright red. “I mean…”
“I won’t tell anyone, not even your dad. And I’ll swallow your cum,” Avery said. He inserted a finger into his mouth and sucked on it.
“Okay,” PJ said. He blurted it out like he needed to say it before he changed his mind. Then he grunted and mewled a bit, like he had then changed his mind but didn’t want to say it. He nodded again. “Damn, I need a nut, bro.”
Avery hurried to pop his cock out. PJ had worn his old workout shorts today because he wasn’t leaving the house, and thought he might play a little touch-football with his dad later. He rarely washed these shorts, so they were funky and sweaty and exactly how Avery liked them. He wore a brand-new jockstrap too, clean and cottony and smelling just enough of balls for Avery.
Avery planted his tongue right on PJ’s cocktip, making him gasp. His dick twitched. Avery swallowed it deeply, until his nose teased PJ’s pubic hair.
“Damn, bro… You can’t tell anyone about this, man, especially not my dad. Or my granddad!”
His dick stiffened up, and PJ gasped. He didn’t think this would happen so quickly. Now he got more and more worried his father would find out. Would it be obvious he had just gotten his nut off when he got back to the house?
It felt so good it was almost painful, and it was definitely awkward. PJ knew how to act around women, but he just flailed and grunted and shook as he raced straight to an orgasm in Avery’s mouth. Pleasure shuddered up his muscles, and his knees went weak.
“Ah, shit, man!” PJ gripped Avery’s head and held on, jutting his hips forward to ram his cock all the way down his throat.
Creamy hot cum filled Avery’s belly and coated his throat. It was salty and sweet and delicious, and Avery moaned, craving more. A long flow of it coated his gullet. Avery slurped down every drop, as his hands massaged the meaty thighs of PJ’s body.
PJ was young and virile, so he shot a huge load, giving Avery plenty of thick cum that seeped into his belly. Avery moaned and kept licking until PJ couldn’t take it anymore and took his dick away.
“Damn, bro, you really got enthusiasm for dick,” PJ said, blushing, wide-eyed. None of his girlfriends had ever really liked sucking cock — he wouldn’t have thought that was true a few minutes ago, but now that he got it from Avery, he knew his girlfriends were never enthusiastic like Avery was right now. He thwacked his limp dick over Avery’s face (which no girl ever let him do).
Then it was all done. PJ was glad. He took a deep breath. His face was ruddy and sweaty. His dick dangled, shorts still around his ankles. He was too exhausted to do much, so Avery pulled his jockstrap and shorts up for him. PJ gasped and giggled a little, nervously, when Avery touched his sensitive cock and balls.
“Tell them you helped me put together a bookshelf,” Avery said, pointing to the bookshelf he had just put together yesterday (he had needed to get his brother-in-law to hold some stuff in place while he screwed it together). “It was heavy enough you’re a little red-faced and out-of-breath.”
“Are you gonna tell them…? They’ll call me a pussy if they find out.”
“No. It’s our secret,” Avery said. “I promise.”
PJ nodded, still too embarrassed to really say much. Finally on the way back to the house, PJ said, “I can’t believe you just jacked me off like that, bro. That was so weird.”
Avery laughed. “Yeah.”
When they got back in the house, PJ’s heart thumped, certain his father or grandfather would guess what had happened.
The game had resumed, however, and they barely even acknowledged that PJ was gone. They never asked what he had done. PJ breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down and resumed cheering on the Raiders.
This time, PJ sat on the chair, instead of the loveseat. Avery sat by himself, wondering if he could sit in the center of the couch instead — he’d be crammed in between Junior and Percy, probably close enough to them he could feel their armhair and smell their chests. It was enough to make his mouth water.
When his cell phone rang, Junior stood up. He had a serious frown on his face. “Damn it, it’s Charlie, if he calls out tomorrow, I will rip his goddamn head off.”
He walked away, into the kitchen. Just a few moments later, the sound of Junior angrily hissing into the phone could be heard. The other two ignored it, but Avery found it increasingly awkward, especially when Junior’s voice got loud enough that his words were audible.
“No, fuck you, you drunk bastard! ‘I wanna get real drunk tonight’ is not a good reason to call out sick-” Junior fumed. “Then don’t get that drunk, Charlie! It’s not responsible to plan on getting so drunk you can’t drive the next morning — oh, then tell the state police, they’ll give you a plaque! Maybe they’ll give you a job too, a job where ‘a strong desire to get drunk’ is an acceptable excuse to call out from work! Then don’t bother sobering up for Monday!” He threw his cell phone against the wall, then cursed himself and put the battery back in the compartment.
Avery got up. The game was in an exciting moment (or so Avery assumed since PJ and Percy were deeply engrossed; every moment of football was equally boring to Avery) and the others didn’t really notice him go into the kitchen. Junior paced there, square jaw working as he chewed on his lower lip. He rubbed his stubbled face and nodded at Avery.
“Sorry, man, I got this worker…”
“You seem frustrated,” Avery said.
He sighed. “Yeah. It ain’t even… I really wish my ex had shown up. We’ve been gettin’ along. I thought maybe…”
“You thought maybe she’d treat you right?”
“Nothing’s going right right now,” he said. “If I don’t get the concrete poured for that school tomorrow, it won’t be ready in time for next week.”
“You poor baby… You should relax though,” Avery said. “Stressing out won’t solve anything.” Junior grunted. He still mostly ignored Avery, standing there flipping through his phone as though additional workers might have inserted themselves in there. Avery grabbed Junior’s cock through his dingy work khakis.
Junior looked up and his eyes opened wide. “What’re you…?”
Avery frowned. “I hate seeing people stressed on holidays,” he said. “And I bet you were hoping that ex-wife of yours would give up the booty.” Avery turned around and raised his ass, aiming it towards Junior’s crotch. “But maybe I can take her place?”
“Shit…”
Junior glanced back at the living room. He grabbed Avery’s hips and dragged him to the other side of the kitchen, where they were blocked by the center island. No one could see Avery without being right there next to Junior.
Avery dropped his jeans and rammed his ass back towards Junior’s crotch. His dick was still soft, but it twitched through the fabric of his khakis when Avery’s ass touched it.
“Shit…” Junior said again. He sighed like he didn’t want to do this, like it was a big imposition. He even glanced towards the living room and considered saying no. But his cock was hard, and he wasn’t about to turn down some booty. Nobody, he thought, would know. He unzipped his khakis and let a thick, veiny cock flop out. It was big like PJ’s but less smooth and more tan. Avery didn’t mind that at all.
He rubbed his ass over the shaft of Junior’s limp cock, while Junior looked away, seemingly pretending this wasn’t happening. He closed his eyes as his cock firmed up.
“Hmm, stick it in me,” Avery said. He lined his ass up with Junior’s cock and pushed back.
As soon as he got started, Junior found his hands moving on instinct. He grabbed Avery’s ass and held on. It twitched and trembled until it turned rock-hard, throbbing against the surface of Avery’s asshole with every pulse of Junior’s heart.
“Open up, boy,” Junior said with a grunt. He drilled his dick in.
He had a nice big cock, enough that Avery had to struggle to bring it all in. He pushed when he felt resistance, and Avery had to focus on not crying out. He whimpered as Junior slammed into him.
Finally he was all the way in. His cock throbbed as Avery adjusted. It took all of Avery’s focus to just take a breath.
“Here I go, boy, take that dick,” Junior murmured. “Say yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.”
Avery struggled to speak softly. “Yes, sir, I’ll do what you say.”
Junior grunted right into Avery’s ear as he orgasmed. His knees buckled, and he went to the ground with Avery, wrapping his powerful arms around Avery’s body and holding him right. The pressure and pain in his ass were intense, but Avery loved every moment of it.
Cum filled him up, great creamy gobs of it that spread to every corner of Avery’s insides. It flowed over his prostate and dripped out onto the floor of Junior’s kitchen. Avery moaned, which would have made a loud sound but his pleasure was so intense it ended up being a breathless, voiceless moan.
“Shit,” Junior said, his cock limpening now. He stayed on top of Avery though, squirming and grinding his dick in deeper. That caused his cumload to turn into a big frothy mess that made a puddle on the floor. It felt so good Avery couldn’t breathe.
Finally Junior pulled out. He stood. He wrinkled his nose. “How was that, boy?”
“Hmmm…” Avery moaned. His whole body shook as the aftershocks of his orgasm wracked his body.
“Clean up that mess you made,” Junior said. He tossed a roll of paper towels to Avery, whose knees were weak and wobbly as he bent over to do as he was told. Junior watched him until he was done, then made him take the cummy paper towels out to the trash can in the driveway. “Don’t you dare tell no one. My pops would blow a lid, and my son would tease me forever.”
“Sure. It’s my secret,” Avery said before following him back out into the living room.
He hadn’t been in there very long before it erupted in cheers. The Raiders had scored. PJ and Percy whooped and hollered so loud it rattled the picture-frames on the wall. PJ took his shirt off and pounded on his chest. Avery just grinned and watched the sweat roll between his pecs and his shoulder blades.
A few minutes later was precisely five o’clock. Percy’s phone beeped. He took it out and peered at the screen, taking several minutes to determine how to turn the beeping off. “Damn piece of shit,” he said when it was finally off. “I gotta do some FaceCall. You got FaceCall on your computer?”
Junior looked at his dad like he was crazy. “Yeah. FaceCall? Dad, that’s a computer thing.”
“I know, moron, why do you think I asked about your computer?”
PJ said, “You hate computers, Grampa. You-“
“I know what I hate, boy!” Percy said. His wrinkled face frowned. “I need to do a FaceCall!”
“I can do that, Percy,” Avery said. “My computer’s all set up for it.”
“Yeah, do his FaceCall,” Junior said. The game was back on, and he turned back to watch it.
“Okay, fine. Yeah. I’ll do a FaceCall on yours.”
“You don’t ‘do a FaceCall’, Pops, you just FaceCall with someone,” PJ said with a snicker.
But Percy ignored him and followed Avery back out to his home. This time they didn’t go to the apartment above the garage. Avery let him into the main house where there was a big high-res computer screen to use. He showed Percy how to connect to the person he was meeting up with.
Percy was gruff and mean, that was just his personality. Avery didn’t expect friendliness or charm, nor did he even want it. Percy had a handsome look, and Avery loved muscular men with gray hair like that. Percy looked like an old-fashioned painting of Zeus, with a redneck flair.
It was a woman. On the FaceCall. She was pretty in her own late-fifties way, with long hair that Avery was certain was a wig. She was demure and quiet, in stark contrast to Percy’s gruffness.
“How you doin’, baby? How was the family? Ya grandson still an ungrateful prick? Uh-huh.”
Avery backed away to give them privacy. He had to suppress a giggle because Percy was like a mean dog who turned submissive around a child. He smiled and laughed and told the woman compliments. He offered to beat up her ungrateful grandson. He ended by telling her he loved her — he used hushed tones and made sure Avery wasn’t looking that way before he said it.
Finally the FaceCall was done. Percy cursed at it for a minute before Avery came over to turn it off for him. Then Percy stood and glared at him.
“I’s expectin’ you’ll want a little lovin’ now, huh, boy?”
Avery blushed. “Well…”
“C’mon. In the bathroom.” He went to the tiny half-bath attached to the kitchen.
“We got the whole house,” Avery said. “No one’s here. We don’t have to go into the bathroom-“
“You think I do this shit anywhere else? You makin’ me do somethin’ nasty, we gonna do it in a nasty place,” he said. He grabbed Avery by the arm. Avery bumped into him and discovered he had a firm hardon.
“I’m not making you do it-“
“Shut the fuck up, I gotta pay you for doing that FaceCall, right?”
“Well, it wasn’t my computer, it’s my brother-in-law’s, but he doesn’t pay per FaceCall or anything. It doesn’t cost him any money-“
“Shut the fuck up, I know you want it. You’re begging me for it,” he said with a snarl. He shoved Avery into the bathroom. “I only do it in males one way, just so you know. I’ll slam you jail-style. You’ll like it, they always do.”
Avery giggled. It was obvious Percy wanted this real bad but didn’t want to say that. So Avery played hard to get. “I don’t know…” he said with a feminine lilt to his voice.
“Shut up, I know you just playin’. Swishy sweets like you wanna get they ass plowed. It’s what they do,” Percy said. “And I seen you checking out my grandson. Don’t go attemptin’ after him.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“He wouldn’t anyway, young’uns is prudish these days. Now I won’t do nothin’ tricksy, so don’t even try that,” Percy said. “I am strictly on top, boy. Don’t you even think ‘bout making me touch your dick.”
“Of course not,” Avery said. He was about to drop to his knees when Percy grabbed his chin and lifted his head an inch or so. Then he planted his lips on Avery’s.
Avery was so shocked he didn’t react at first. He thought he must have misunderstood something. Then he kissed Percy back, but when their tongues interlocked, Percy pushed him away.
In seconds, Avery was on his knees on all fours, his pants around his ankles. Percy let out a bestial growl as he took his own cock out. He was uncut and meaty, bigger than the other two, rougher and cruder too, like a caveman’s cock, full of veins and even a scar running along the top.
Percy kissed him again from behind, his lips running up and down Avery’s face and neck. Avery moaned. His asshole twitched as Percy’s cock rubbed against it.
Then Percy drilled his dick in, just the tip at first. Percy noticed a fluid in there, which he would have realized was his son’s cum if he had stopped to think about it, but he just assumed it was lube and it didn’t occur to him that Avery hadn’t used any lube. He grunted and Avery bit his lip. “C’mon, boy, lemme in. Beg me for it. Say you want it. Say you need it.”
“I need you inside me, stick it in me, Percy. Fill my ass!” Avery cried out.
He was shocked again, moments later, when Percy reached around Avery’s body and grabbed his cock. To Percy, this was the proper way to do a man’s ass — Avery had assumed “jail-style” meant rough and violent, which it did, to a certain degree. But when Percy was in jail, he had gradually lost most of his inhibitions; he and his fellow rednecks formed a gang with a few men to use as toys, but they had only agreed to it if Percy and the others treated them like girlfriends. So Percy had come to love giving a reacharound so he could feel his bottom orgasming. He didn’t care about stroking a man off, that didn’t even feel weird to him. He was on top, after all, so that didn’t feel good, it just made his bottom orgasm and Percy loved that,
“Gonna get deep inside ya, boy, don’t fight it, just open up and let it happen…”
Avery could do little more than writhe and beg for more. Percy pounded his ass, kissed his cheek, held his neck with one muscled arm and weighed down his back, so Avery was pinned. His arms gripped the wall of the bathroom as he struggled to take every inch of Percy’s manhood.
“Shit, boy, take it!” Percy spat vituperously into Avery’s ear.
Avery opened his ass as much as he could, letting Percy pound away. His cock was better than the others in the family. Avery wondered if it had always been that way, or if Percy had grown better over time. Maybe the other two would be just as good once they got to Percy’s age.
When Avery orgasmed, he shot his wad all over Percy’s hand, and his asshole clenched. That was what Percy was waiting for. He had always interpreted that as love when his jail-cell wife did it. He loved the feel of bringing a bottom to orgasm through ramming into his ass with all his might. It made Percy feel so powerful his muscles all flexed and he could forget about all the kissing and jacking off he’d been doing.
“Goddamn… you got nice ass…” Percy said, throwing his head back and crying out. Cum sprayed into Avery’s ass.
Percy kissed him again on the lips, continuing to stroke his limpening dick as he shot the most massive wad of the day into Avery’s body. He kept going, making a huge mess just like his son had, turning his wad into a cummy froth that coated Percy’s low-hanging balls.
Finally he was done, and he pulled out. Unlike his son, Percy didn’t make Avery clean up. Under prison rules, clean-up was the top’s responsibility. “Stay there, boy,” he said. He found some napkins and wiped up Avery’s ass, and the mess on the floor. “Good. Did you like that, boy?”
“Yes! Oh god, yes,” Avery said. He stood up on weakened knees. “Can I have another kiss?”
Percy frowned and furrowed his brow. “No. It’s nasty to kiss a man. I kissed ya before on account of my dick was in ya guts, boy. Ain’t nothin’ nasty ‘bout demolishin’ some butt.” He chuckled. “Don’t you try and kiss me, I’ll kick your ass.”
Avery blushed. “Okay, fine.” He giggled. “I think it’s about time for dinner.”
“Reckon so,” Percy said. He took a deep breath. “You best not tell no one. My boy and grandson, they don’t know ‘bout this shit. They’re squeamish as hell.”
Avery smiled. “Yeah, sure.” They headed towards the house next-door. “I’m glad I got to celebrate Thanksgiving over here,” Avery said. “I have a lot to be thankful for.”

The Baller

Avery is at a grimy basketball court in downtown Baltimore when he has a chance to swing on some alpha male ebony meat. He knows he’s gotta take his shot while he has a chance, and he lands the handsome prettyboy Rakhim! Can Avery please his newest alpha? Can Rakhim perform under pressure?

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Read the whole thing here!

“Pass it up, nigga!”
“You dribble like a retard, man, send it over here. You know you won’t know what to do wit’ it.”
Avery sat on the ground near the basketball hoop. He had a basketball with him. He didn’t like his basketball because it was clean. He had just bought it at All-Mart a few minutes ago. It hadn’t occurred him to use it first. It was very obviously brand-new, and it made him stand out as an outsider here.
“Take that shot, Rakhim! Take the shot! Take-“
“Ah, nigga!”
Rakhim was one of the guys playing basketball. He was younger than the others — he had just turned eighteen a few days ago. The rest of the men playing were at least in their late twenties, some well into their forties.
Avery tried not to feel too self-conscious. He was in a public court in one of the worst ghettos of inner-city Baltimore. He stood out because he was the only white person here — what was even weirder was that he was, by far, the lightest-skinned person here. There wasn’t even a single light-skinned black person anywhere at the court. He also stood out because he was watching but not from the sidelines. He was there at the front of the court, behind the basket, so he was almost knocked over a few times as they played.
“Yo, whiteman, bounce it up.”
A ball landed near Avery. His heart skipped a beat as he picked it up and bounced it back to Rakhim. He was young and broad-shouldered, with tight, taut muscles that were dappled in sweat. He was on the “skins” team, so he was shirtless — Avery had watched him deliberately get himself on the skins team, presumably because he wanted to show off in front of the girls who chatted on the sidelines. None of the girls appeared to be paying much attention, but Rakhim smiled at them and made sure they got lots of views of his six-pack abs and his deep dimples.
As confident as Rakhim was in front of the girls, he showed less confidence in front of the old heads he played with. Rakhim was smaller than any of them, and he was easily the most handsome, so they all treated him like a prettyboy. He wasn’t scarred or heavily tattooed, and he had a smooth, unblemished face.
“Watch this dunk, nigga!” Rakhim shouted. He was much too short to be dunking, wasn’t he? Avery wasn’t a basketball expert, but he didn’t think someone like Rakhim had any chance of making it.
Sure enough, Rakhim slammed the ball onto the rim but didn’t make it in the basket. He landed on the ground and groaned as the other players all burst into whoops and hollers. The girls stopped chatting and watched, giggling while Rakhim stood, stony-faced, grimaces flashing over his eyes. He tried to smile good-naturedly.
“You must be this tall to dunk-!”
“That is why you got fired from Darling Donuts, nigga!”
“Yo, Rakhim, you gonna dunk ‘bout two minutes after that whiteman over there.”
They all laughed. Avery blushed, but he didn’t respond. He grabbed the basketball he had brought with him, lifted it over his head and licked the underside of it. He made sure it looked like he was licking a testicle.
All of the basketball players were quiet for a moment. The girls watching from the sidelines laughed — but they were confused, not recognizing the ball-slurping for what it was. Then the basketball players chuckled dryly and resumed the game. There was some faint whispering and casual glances in Avery’s direction, but no one spoke to him.
That was fine with Avery. He knew how to do this.
It was one of the middle-aged guys that came to talk to Avery. He was probably the oldest one here, with a lanky body covered with gray-tinged chest hair. He had a gravelly voice like he gargled with nails, so low and spine-tingling that Avery struggled to understand his words.
“Yo, wuzzup? Whatchoo want, whiteman?”
Avery giggled as girlishly as he could manage. “I just wanted to jerk some dick. Do you know anyone with a dick?”
He glowered. He spat on the ground. “You payin’?”
“I’ll pay you and him five hundred dollars if I get to jerk off Rakhim over there,” he said.
The man chuckled. “So you go’n pay me? For his dick? He my nephew, you know. He twenty-two, but he my nephew.”
“I’ll pay him too.” Avery smiled. “Or if you’d rather, I’ll pay a thousand dollars to the whole lot of you. All ten of you. Hundred bucks each.”
He thought for a moment. “Nah. You pay me. The whole amount, thousand dollars. Don’t tell Rakhim you payin’.” He paused, thought for a moment and rolled his eyes. “Nevuhmind, no. His daddy’s my brothah. You pay him the whole thousand dollars.” He sighed again like he really didn’t want to do that. “His daddy’s doin’ time. I gotta do what’s right… Fine, you pay him a thousand dollars. But don’t tell him till it’s done. I go’n mess wit’ him.”
The game seemed to have paused. The middle-aged man — Reg— jogged back off to the other older players. They spoke in hushed tones. It sounded like they had sent Reg to see what Avery wanted. They all laughed, then hushed each other.
Rakhim shot baskets lazily. He glanced back at the others, and he made eye contact with Avery then looked away.
“Alright, you shitheads got the ball,” Reg said, and the huddle at the far end of the court broke up.
The game resumed. Avery watched, slowly licking the basketball in front of his face. He heard some of the girls mutter catty insults about him, but Avery didn’t mind. He serviced a lot of alpha men, which tended to piss off females. He knew that. It was normal. He could handle the bitches.
“You ain’t nevuh got a dunk in, Short Stuff,” Reg said to Rakhim. Rakhim sucked on his teeth and scowled like he hated that nickname.
“Rakhim’s the only one here who ain’t nevuh one time dunk.”
“He can’t do it, nigga, no one that short can dunk. He shorter than Spud Webb.”
“I ain’t!” Rakhim yelled. “Nah! I’m five nine, nigga! I’m taller than Spud Webb! All y’all fuckers shut yo’ mouths! Spudd Webb was five seven. I can dunk any time I want, nigga.”
They laughed. Even some of the girls watching laughed, and Avery chuckled. Rakhim grabbed the ball from one of the other players. “I got two inches on Spud Webb!” Rakhim shouted, even though he knew it made him look even more defensive — he just couldn’t help himself. Rakhim grabbed his cock, its massive shaft momentarily outlined by his sweaty basketball shorts. Rakhim laughed cockily. “I got more than two inches on ‘im, man, I swear to God!” He pumped his biceps.
“How you know how big Spud Webb’s dick is?”
“Yo, are you sayin’ you jerked off Spud Webb?”
Rakhim shouted, “Y’all can suck the sweat off my balls! Fuck you! I can dunk! I’ll take you all on, motherfuckers!” He paced in a circle as though he was going to challenge someone to a fight but couldn’t decide who. His fuming just made the others laugh more.
The men laughed and clutched each other’s half-naked bodies as they watched. Five of them wore sleeveless shirts, and four (plus Rakhim) were shirtless, but they all pawed at each other’s sweaty muscles while Rakhim shouted. They laughed as though it was the funniest thing they had ever seen.
“Nah, nah,” Reg’s deep voice cut through Rakhim’s yelling, and he had such gravity and authority in his tone that everyone fell silent immediately. Even Avery stopped laughing. Reg’s chest rumbled. “Nah. Nah, nigga. None of us gonna slurp the sweat off ya balls.”
“Damn right.”
“You still the little’un, Rakhim. And you only just turned eighteen.”
“I is twenty-two, nigga, fuck you. I can dunk. You ain’t gotta show me disrespec’,” Rakhim said. He sucked on his lip.
Reg chuckled and placed one hand on his shoulder. “Look, young pup, you wanna show us what you got? Go for it. Let’s make a bet. You get three dunks, nigga. If you make one of ‘em, you win, and Slim Jay here gonna set you up wit’ one of his fine-ass hos.”
Slim Jay was one of the other players, on the Shirts team. He wasn’t dressed like a pimp now, but he was clean and had brand-new sneakers and about fifteen trashy-looking women cheering him on. Slim Jay was the only one with his own cheering section. Slim Jay pointed towards the girls cheering him. “You can pick which one you want, man.”
“Sharlene. I want Sharlene.”
There was a moment of silence, and the men all laughed. Rakhim’s face was tight and pinched, and he bit his lip.
“You in love wit’ a whore, nigga?”
“You gonna eat that bitch’s cummy, flappy pussy?”
“No! She hot! She got ass all over, nigga, and I heard she suck dick good. That’s all! I don’t love her, no way,” Rakhim said. He sighed because none of the men could hear him over their own taunting. He crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Anyway, whatever, fuck you, Slim Jay. I could get her anytime I want. I could get a freebie. Girls love my meat, nigga. She be beggin’ for it if-“
“Nah.” Slim Jay said. He got up real close, and laughter stopped. His face was less than an inch from Rakhim’s. Since he was taller than Rakhim, he had to stoop over so his eyes lined up. “Nah, Rakhim. You ain’t gonna do that. She my girl. I love her. She know that. Ain’t nothin’ you do gonna change that. She don’t do freebies. She love me too much to betray me like that.”
After a long pause, Slim Jay kissed Rakhim on the lips. It was a momentary, dry, chaste kiss that ended as soon as Rakhim pushed him away. Despite it lasting only a half a second, the kiss made Rakhim howl and wipe his lips off as though he had just kissed battery acid. The other men laughed and clutched each other for support once more.
“Ya got a new boyfriend, Rakhim? You gonna turn tricks for Slim Jay?!”
Slim Jay smiled as they all hooted at Rakhim, who switched his hostile glares from Slim Jay, to the others, to the girls who shouted for more from the sidelines. But Slim Jay was already jogging away, to Avery. He wangled his dick in his jeans and smiled at Avery. “Yo, man. Gimme ten bucks for kissin’ Rakhim. I know you got off on that.”
“Uh…” Avery wasn’t expecting that. He pulled out a twenty dollar bill from his pocket, as he had no ten. “I, uh-“
Slim Jay took the twenty. “Good. The other ten bucks is you payin’ me to watch my ass as I walk away.” He laughed and shook his plump cheeks as he went back to the cluster of older men. Rakhim dribbled by himself in front of the basket, eyeing Avery suspiciously. It looked like Rakhim wanted to practice dunking but couldn’t do so right now without looking weak.
“You wanna do this, nigga?” Reg said to Rakhim. “If you can make just one dunk, you get to fuck wit’ Sharlene. If you can’t make a dunk, you gotta stop talkin’ trash ‘bout yo’ skills… and you gotta get whiteman over there to slurp the sweat off yo’ balls. And you gotta ram him.” Reg crossed his arms over his chest. The other men did the same, presenting a united front.
Rakhim scoffed. “What? Fine, whatever.” Then, like the details hadn’t really sunk in just yet, he said, “Wait, what? What’d you say? I gotta…”
“You scared?”
“Yo’ daddy’s is a booty bandit behind bars, you know that, right?”
“Shut up! My pops ain’t a booty snatcher, nah! Fuck you, man.” Reggie scowled and stamped his feet.
Reg rolled his eyes. “So whatchoo think? Can you do it? Can you dunk wit’ yo’ tiny ass?”
“Nigguh! Ah…” Rakhim paced again. He was furious that his father’s affairs were being aired in public. He screamed at Reg, “I know you lyin’! My pops ain’t no bum-tickler!” That made Reg laugh some more, and Rakhim took a deep breath through slitted teeth. “You don’t know jack-shit, old nigga. You don’t know nothin’. My pops don’t act like that. He ain’t fuckin’ around on that ramrod trip. Nope. No way.”
Reg covered his face as he tried to look serious. “Sure, nigga. Right. I know he introduced you. Ramon, right? His name was Ramon? You should respect him, he’s yo’ stepmama.”
“No he ain’t!”
“Alright, Rakhim, you wanna do it? Huh? You takin’ the bet? Quit makin’ a fuckin’ scene and do it. Or don’t, if you don’t think you can dunk…”
Rakhim flared his nostrils and nodded. “Hell yeah, ‘course I can do it. I can dunk, nigga. I can get all three, I bet. I can dunk, no problem. Three dunks in a row.”
“Let’s see it then…” Reg said with a wry grin. He and the other men lined up like they were watching a free throw. They clapped and hooted. The girls watching from the sidelines did the same thing.
Rakhim went back a few yards so he could run up to the basket. He dribbled a couple times. He shook his short braids out of his eyes and ran his fingers over his scalp. His tight pectoral muscles flexed and rippled.
Then he ran for it. He dribbled down the court, between the rows of clapping men and leapt at the hoop. Since Avery was there by the basket, he got a good look at Rakhim’s cock pressed against the fabric of his shorts.
And he missed. Rakhim whiffed completely. He barely touched the basket at all and didn’t even get the ball near the rim.
Laughter exploded from the other men. Rakhim roared and screamed profanities. His eyes bugged out. Some of the girls called out supportive words, which only seemed to make Rakhim angrier.
He raced back to try again before anyone could even tell him to hurry up. He ran faster, not even really dribbling anymore — he dribbled a bit, but if this was a real game, he’d have been called out for traveling.
He got closer, but this time he merely touched the rim with the ball. There was a metallic clang, but no basket.
Again, the audience all erupted in clapping. Avery joined in, shouting encouragement even though he wanted Rakhim to lose more than anything. Catcalls and hoots came from the other men, while the girls giggled among themselves.
Rakhim paused for a long time before his third try. He hushed the crowd, which made the other players laugh harder before Reg told them all to be quiet.
“Nah, let him concentrate, man. We gotta give him a chance. Let him try,” Reg said until they all fell silent. Slim Jay even made his hos shut up.
Rakhim took a deep breath and ran forward for his last try. It was, once again, a miss. He got it on the rim and it almost went in but bounced right off.
No dunk.
Rakhim lowered his head and closed his eyes. He frowned and tightened his hands into fists as the other players alternated between teasing and sarcastic words of support.
“You suck, nigga!”
“Short Stuff! Short Stuff!”
“You tryin’, nigga, you get a medal for tryin’. You got spunk, man. You got gumption.”
“Gumption! Short Stuff full of gumption! And spunk!”
“Spud Webb’s spunk…”
“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed. He threw the basketball away as hard as he could. It sailed over the fence and bounced into the road outside the court. A few of the girls booed.
“Ah, don’t be a shit, Rakhim,” Reg said. “Jesus Christ, you such a bitch sometimes.”
“Say that to my face, Uncle Reg!”
“I just did say it to yo’ face, motherfucker! Open yo’ ears!” Reg laughed and mimed plucking something from Rakhim’s ear. Rakhim bristled and rubbed his ear as though he thought there was something in there. Reg clasped Rakhim on the shoulder and squeezed. “Chill the fuck out, nigga.”
“We just givin’ ya shit, man. You ain’t gotta throw the ball away. That’s a punk move.”
“If we was in lockup, nigga, I’d stab yo’ ass for that. I’d stab ya in the ass, and then, once I blew my nut inside ya, I’d stab you wit’ a shiv.”
They all laughed at Rakhim’s heavy breathing. Rakhim’s eyes were narrowed to slits. He looked so furious he might explode.
“Yo, you gonna do what you promised?” Reg asked. “Huh? You gonna back out like a loser?”
“Nah. Nah. No.” Rakhim bristled. His anger broke, and he glanced back at Avery. He took a deep breath, rolled his eyes and forced a smile on his face. “Whatever. Fine. Let him suck the sweat off my balls. Fuckin’ bitch. I ain’t, you know… I ain’t some squeamish nigga, you know. I don’t fuck around on the downlow, but I could. I could. I could. I just got females, y’know. I ain’t a bitch who can’t get no pussy. I ram a male, sure, I ram a male, you know… I would ram a male, if I needed to. Sure. No problem, nigga. If we was in prison, I’d-a done took whiteman back there to be my bitch. He’d already be doin’ my laundry, you know, hand-washin’ my drawers. I be eatin’ that bitch’s fruit cup from day one.”
“Is ‘fruit cup’ how young’uns say ‘asshole’ now?”
“I do it, no problem.” Rakhim shrugged and sucked on his teeth. Then he shrugged again, more aggressively. “Sure. Where? I ain’t invitin’ no man into my mama’s house.”
“Right here, nigga. We do it how yo’ daddy make love to his boyfriend, wit’ all his boys blocking the view from the screws,” Reg said. “Get in a circle, niggas.”
Before Avery even realized it was going to happen right here — there was a public bathroom in the courts, so that’s where Avery assumed they were going — the nine players had come to him and formed a circle. Avery leaned against the pole supporting the basketball hoop. He had his own basketball in hand, but he dropped it to the ground and held it in place with one foot.
With nine very large men in a tight circle, flesh-on-flesh, there was no way to see in from outside. Even if you got up real close and tried to look through their legs, all you’d see was low-hanging basketball shorts. You’d have to get all the way down on your belly to see anything, and even then you’d only be able to tell that Avery was on his knees.
Rakhim stood in the center of the circle. His eyes closed, hands on his waist, his pert chest muscles rose and fell as he breathed heavily. He gulped. He tried to put on a tough-nigga face. “Alright, man, get to it. I got some sweaty-ass balls right now-“
Someone pulled down Rakhim’s shorts and his drawers, laughing when it made Rakhim bristle. He had a nice thick cock dangling between his legs, and heavy balls with sweat dripping off his kinky black hairs.
Avery wanted to get started right away before Rakhim decided to drop out. He dove his head between his legs and let both balls plop into his mouth. He gurgled moistly, making as much noise as he could because it made Rakhim bite his lip with embarrassment while the others clapped and cheered.
Rakhim shuddered. He had never had his balls licked before, not really — he’d had girls lick his sac a bit, but they were never willing to suck on his balls. He was ticklish, which he thought would make him look weak so he tried to avoid reacting. But the more he resisted, the more Avery teased his taint with his tongue, making Rakhim giggle like a schoolboy.
“Quit playin’, quit playin’…” Rakhim muttered.
Avery suckled all the sweaty balljuice off his body. He even got way down deep between Rakhim’s legs and slurped like he was trying to suck his taint right off. Rakhim was ungodly funky right now, with fresh sweat dripping in rivers down Avery’s throat — Rakhim was sweaty because he was playing basketball on a humid summer afternoon and because he was nervous about showing off his cock in front of a bunch of old heads.
But he had nothing to be ashamed of. Not only was his cock plenty big, but it got hard right away — almost too quickly, Rakhim thought, hoping no one noticed that he got an erection easily, as though he was with a girl.
“Throat him down, Rakhim!”
His plump cocktip pushed into Avery’s throat. Avery deep-throated him right away, in one smooth motion, prompting the other men to clap again. Rakhim shuddered and closed his eyes. He leaned back against the pole holding up the basketball hoop.
“Course, I’ll throat him down, man,” Rakhim said. His voice sounded a lot less confident than his words suggested, which made the other men chuckle. Rakhim snorted. He took a deep breath and grabbed Avery by the head.
And then he let go and laughed. His laughter was tremulous and anxious.
Rakhim had trouble focusing. He tried again, touching Avery’s scalp, but when he felt Avery’s straight, short, man’s haircut, he laughed nervously again. He pulled his fingers back.
“You scared, Rakhim?” One of the older men poked Rakhim in his bare ass with one finger, making Rakhim buck and smack his hand away.
“Nah, man, this, uh… This man’s just nasty, that’s all,” Rakhim said. “Whatever. I can ram his throat. I ram hard, you know it. I can make him gag.” He closed his eyes and tried again. He grabbed Avery by the scalp, so tightly it hurt. But Avery didn’t mind, he just swallowed Rakhim down to the root, and he didn’t gag even when his throat cried out for it — Avery had been doing this long enough he could usually suppress his gag reflex. Avery’s hands reached up to tease Rakhim’s nipples, which made his pecs ripple.
“He ain’t gaggin’, Rakhim. Maybe yo’ dick ain’t big enough.”
“You got another, bigger dick somewhere? Whip it out, nigga.”
“He… He prolly slurp too many dicks to gag. Ain’t that right, man?” Rakhim asked. He pulled out and lightly slapped Avery on the cheek. “Huh? Is that why you don’t gag?”
“Yes,” Avery said, the first thing he had said to Rakhim all day.
“I bet my dick tastes like pussyjuice, don’t it? I was fuckin’ a female earlier. I was dick-deep in her, man.” He beamed proudly, and glanced behind himself to see if the others were impressed. They were not.
“I don’t taste pussyjuice, sorry,” Avery said. “Your dick tastes really good though-“
“You don’t know what real pussy tastes like, whiteman,” Rakhim said. He rubbed his hard cock over Avery’s face, smearing precum over him. “That’s all. I was fuckin’ a female, I swear. Right before I came here. I busted all up in her.”
“You ain’t fuck her in the ass?”
“Nah. Nah. Not her,” Rakhim said. “Not this morning. I do fuck bitches in the ass, man. No problem.”
Avery smiled. “Are you ready to ram me in the ass?”
“Hell yeah he is, boy! He gonna get up in there!”
“Destroy him, Rakhim!”
“Do yo’ daddy proud and wreck his ass!”
Avery turned around and bent over. He stuck his ass up high, too high for Rakhim to ram him in it. Rakhim had a beaming, prideful smile on his face until he saw Avery’s tight asshole twinkling in front of his face. Rakhim looked away.
“You scared?”
“Ain’t you evuh been locked up, Rakhim? This yo’ first time?”
Rakhim scoffed. “Course it’s my first time, nigga. I ain’t a booty bandit or nothin’. I ain’t gone inside. Nope. I said that before, nigga. I don’t mess around on the downlow,” he said.
“So this ain’t downlow? We can tell everyone?”
“No!”
“I’m tellin’ yo’ daddy,” Reg said with a grin. “I’m gonna call him right now. You gonna get in there?” Reg fished out his cell phone from his shorts pocket. He dialed a number. “No one prolly gonna answer, on ‘ccount of it’s a smuggled cell phone. They keep it turned off. They gonna call me back if yo’ daddy’s available.”
“You ain’t gotta tell my pops, Uncle Reg! Come on! Don’t tell him!”
“Why not?”
Rakhim’s mouth was agape, and he mumbled like he wanted to come up with a reason but couldn’t think of any. He just thought and stood there with his erect cock resting on the surface of Avery’s ass.
Avery got bored with waiting. He reached behind himself and grabbed Rakhim’s dick. His fingers shocked Rakhim out of his reverie, and Rakhim slapped his hands away.
“Nah! Don’t tell him, Uncle Reg! Quit playin’! Come on, nigga…” He paused. He grabbed Avery’s hand. “Get yo’ hand back here again, whiteman. You guide my dick in.” He put Avery’s hand right back where it had been before he smacked it away.
“Get in there, Rakhim!”
Rakhim took a deep breath and pushed his cock in. He gasped and gagged when it finally went in. He closed his eyes, and then he covered them with one tattooed forearm. His breathing was short and shallow as though he was on the verge of tears.
“You evuh ram a male in the ass?! Huh? Fo’ real?”
“No, man! I said that! I ain’t nevuh do it. I get pussy. I get females,” Rakhim said with a roar. He pounded on his chest muscles. “I get females beggin’ for my meat, you don’t even know!” The more he bragged, the more the others cackled and jeered at him. They kept squeezing his muscles, pretending to be girls overwhelmed with desire.
“Ooh, Rakhim, you turn me on so much, will you lick my butthole?!”
“Nothing turns me on more than watching niggas fail to dunk, Rakhim, that’s my kink. Come here and titty-fuck me!”
“If I threw a ball at you, Rakhim, could you not catch it? That makes my pussy so wet. I’m a fumble-holic, nigga.”
“Ooh, nigga, could you miss an easy lay-up while you fuck me, Rakhim? That’d be so hot.”
Someone gave Rakhim the ball that Avery had brought to the court. Rakhim scowled and ignored them, but a chant soon erupted. He held the ball.
“Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it! Miss it!”
Finally Rakhim screamed in rage — he barely even paid attention to his cock sliding in and out of Avery’s ass right now — and threw the ball. He was behind the basket, so he had to throw it high to get it over the backboard.
The ball whiffed completely. It didn’t even touch the net. It bounced away on the ground, and the men erupted in cheers.
“That was so hot!”
“If you plow hard enough, Rakhim, you might grow some balls. Then you’d be a real boy, just like yo’ fairy godmother promised.”
“Fuck you!” Rakhim screamed and threw a punch, but with his dick in Avery’s ass, it was a useless gesture. He just flailed his fist in the direction of one the men. They all laughed and clapped. Rakhim shouted justifications — mainly claiming that Avery’s movement had distracted him — but no one could hear him over the sound of the others razzing him.
Rakhim seemed to realize that the only way out of this was to just finish up. The more he responded, the more the others teased him. He bit his lip, gritted his teeth and grabbed Avery by the cheeks to ram him harder. Then he realized he was touching a white man’s ass, and he let go with a pained grimace.
A cell phone rang. Everyone laughed, except Rakhim, who moaned, until Reg hushed them all and answered the phone. Reg serioused up. “Yo, nigga. Yo, I know you gotta pay for this, don’t worry, I put some money in yo’ commissary — nah, it ain’t ‘bout none of that, relax. It’s a joke,” Avery said. “Yo’ son is here gettin’ his cherry popped on the court.”
“I ain’t a virgin, pops! Shut up, Uncle Reg! Nah, that ain’t what’s happenin’! Nah! Nah!” Rakhim grabbed for the phone, but without pulling away from Avery’s ass. His cock throbbed and sent shivers of pleasure through Avery’s body. Rakhim flailed uselessly towards the phone in his uncle’s hands. Some of the other men slapped his hands down.
“Shut up, Rakhim.”
“Yeah, there’s some white man hanging out here. We set up a wager, and yo’ boy ain’t dunk one time — yeah, I know, he still short, he do think he can dunk-“
“I can dunk, nigga! My pops seen me dunk! He saw it!”
Reg was quiet for a moment. “He say you ain’t nevuh dunk on no regulation basket.”
“It was reg’lation, man! It was just as high as this one!” Rakhim pointed to the basket he had missed. “I can do it. I swear to God, I can do it.”
“You ain’t gotta swear to God to prove it, nigga. All you gotta do is do it.”
“Yeah, so he rammin’ that man. He deep in his ass right now. I think he might be in love.”
“Nuh-uh! Fuck you, Uncle Reg! Say that to my face! Come on!” Rakhim shouted. He seemed to have forgotten his dick was in Avery’s ass, and he pushed towards his uncle Reg. Avery squirmed and held back squeals, as the thick shaft in his guts sent paroxyms of pleasure through his body.
“He ain’t nevuh get no female, so this is sorta practice, you know. He learnin’ how to use his dick for the first time.” Reg paused and laughed at whatever Rakhim’s father said. Reg cleared his throat. “Hey, so you know that boy? What’s his name, Ramon? Yeah. He yo’ cell wife or what?” He paused, then said, “Ha! Tol’ you, nigga.” He put his phone on speaker. The sound of a crowded prison filled the air, macho grunting and a whistle in the distant background. “Go’n, say that again.”
A deep, gravelly voice intoned, “Ramon’s my boy. He’s my cell wife. I ram him all the damn time, nigga, you know that.”
“Nah! Tell ‘em the truth, Pops!” Rakhim shouted. “Fuck you all!”
They all laughed hard for a long time. Avery found it difficult to follow all this, because he jacked himself off while Rakhim rammed his ass. Rakhim’s cock was rock-hard even as he got embarrassed, and it tickled Avery’s prostate with every thrust of his hips.
Soon Avery shot his own load onto the ground. No one noticed because they were focused on Rakhim, who took the phone from Reg and spoke into it — it was off speakerphone now.
Rakhim’s voice went from macho and braggy to calm and respectful. “Hey, Pops. Uh-huh. Yeah. I’m doin’ it! Uncle Reg’s being a prick, nigga. I’m- Uh-huh. I know. Yeah. Yeah. Yes, sir,” Rakhim said. His voice was weak now, like he didn’t enjoy showing respect in front of others. He looked down at his cock, still pulsating in Avery’s ass. He stopped moving it, but Avery kept sliding back and forth, up and down on the shaft. “Yeah, I’m rammin’ him. Just… Pops… Come on, man… Yes, sir. I’m… Yeah, I can do it. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t! Shut up, man, I said I won’t! Why you gotta have a cell wife?! Tell him he gotta wear makeup! I got niggas in there, man, they tellin’ e’rybody — Mom don’t know! Mom don’t know ‘bout that shit! She don’t know nothin’- Nah, pops! Nah! Nah, nigga!” He paused and sighed. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sir, I don’t say the n-word that much, Uncle Reg got me worked up,” he whispered. Then he sighed again and gritted his teeth. An involuntary surge of sensations ran through his body, making his muscles all flex as his hips gyrated, forcing his cock in and outta Avery’s ass. “Yes, sir. Sorry. Yeah. Okay. Yeah. Yes, I’m going to church!”
“No he ain’t!”
“I ain’t seed him at church!” Reg shouted at the phone.
“I am going to church! I missed one week! Just one!” He paused. “I swear to God, Pops, just make him yo’ bitch. I don’t wanna hear that shit. Nah. Nah! He ain’t — Pops! Man, don’t say that! Don’t say that! If he can be yo’ cell wife, he can be yo’ bitch! Make him a bitch! Pimp him out! Fuck you then! No! No! Don’t-! Don’t tell her! Man… I’m sorry, Pops, just chill out. Don’t tell Mom. I ain’t mean it. I just… I got respec’ for you, Pops. I was just mad. Don’t call him yo’ cell wife.” He sighed again. “Yeah, fine. Okay. Yes, sir. I’ll… Yes, I’ll meet Ramon next month in visitation. Fine. I’ll be nice. Yes, sir. Don’t tell Mom.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to Reg. “He said he treats Ramon like a bitch. He just calls him a wife cuzza prison rules or some shit. Don’t mean nothing.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Okay, Rakhim,” Reg said with a snorting laugh. “You gonna cum or you gonna fall in love over there?”
“He gonna fall in love like his daddy did.” Rakhim looked down like he didn’t understand why his dick was in Avery’s ass, throbbing, sending spasms of ecstasy through Avery’s tense body. Avery groaned and moaned into the asphalt of the Bullmass Park court.
“He ain’t in love! It ain’t real love anyway, it’s prison love. All y’all shut up! He ain’t takin’ dick! He’s on top anyway, I know that!” Rakhim said, his eyes closed. They all tittered with laughter, which made Rakhim frown though he didn’t say anything else. He just gripped Avery by the ass and started ramming again.
Then he twitched like he hadn’t meant to touch Avery’s ass with his hands. He grimaced and let go. He kept ramming back and forth though.
Avery had already shot his wad onto the floor, so every stroke of Rakhim’s cock inside him just extended his post-orgasmic bliss. His ass was in terrible pain now, since Rakhim had a huge cock and rammed with it clumsily, obviously having never stuck anyone in the ass before (probably including women). But the pleasure of the man’s cock throbbing inside him combined with the arousal flowing through Avery’s body to make him writhe uncontrollably. Avery felt like he was falling apart.
“I can ram you so hard, whiteman, you gonna be beggin’ me for mercy,” Rakhim said, his voice trailing off like he realized he was making a boast he might not be able to back up. He wrapped one of his arms around Avery’s throat. “Gonna treat you like a prison bitch. This is prolly how that bitch Ramon gets it.”
He put Avery in a loose chokehold and slammed his cock in, moving his hips around as though he needed to do it from every angle. He groaned and grunted into Avery’s ear. Avery moaned and bucked, resisting at first then allowing Rakhim to ram him harder and harder.
“Fuck you, man, fuck you!” Rakhim hissed directly into Avery’s ear. That made Avery shudder with both fear and desire, and his ass clenched around Rakhim’s cock.
At last that was it. Rakhim groaned, and it was obvious he was relieved to finally finish. The other men clapped. His voice broke in Avery’s ear, his breath condensing on his skin.
“Oh damn, I guess those balls do work.”
Hot cum flew into Avery’s ass. Rakhim was young so his balls were full, bursting with juices. It all flowed into Avery like his cock was a hose, and his cum sprayed throughout Avery’s body. He could feel it trickling into every corner of his flesh. A surprised moan came Rakhim, and an intense moan boomed out of Avery’s mouth.
Some of it seeped down his thighs too, trickling onto the ground and the puddle of Avery’s own cum. Rakhim roared and pounded on his chest, breathing heavily. His roar was interrupted by his own gasp, and then he snarled as Reg pinched his asscheek again.
“There you go, you got it. You worked hard for yo’ money, nigga,” Reg said.
Rakhim nodded. “Uh-huh. Tol’ you. Told you I could do it.”
“You said you could make him beg you-“
“He begged. I heard it,” Rakhim said. He pulled out and grimaced, gagging at the sight of Avery’s cum-filled asshole. Avery giggled and squeezed his ass, making a big clump of cum slide down his leg. The men all laughed and clapped. Rakhim took a deep breath. “I did it, nigga.” He paused. “Wait, what? Whatchoo sayin’ ‘bout money?”
No one answered him. They all exchanged knowing glances. Rakhim furrowed his brow, looking right at Reg. He didn’t notice Avery pull out his checkbook and start writing.
“Huh? Uncle Reg, what was you sayin’?”
Avery handed Rakhim a check for eleven hundred dollars — the extra was to cover the cost of cashing the check at a payday-loan place. Rakhim took the check, but it didn’t register, he just scowled at Reg.
“Uncle Reg, what did-?” He saw the check. “What’s this? Huh?”
Avery just walked away, cum still dribbling down his thighs. He squeezed between two sweaty bodies, since the men were still interlocked in a tight circle. He kept his tongue out as he went so he got to lick all the salty sweat off one man’s ebony torso on his way out. Whoever it was jumped away like Avery’s tongue was painful.
“Yo, did he just pay me?! Why ain’t you tell me I was gettin’ paid?! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, nigga! Hell yeah, I got white men payin’ fo’ my meat. Ain’t nothin’ wrong ‘bout that. You tell my pops, right? He won’t believe me. Uncle Reg, you gonna tell him?”
“Nah. I will tell yo’ moms though.”

The Volleyball Player

Rob isn’t interested in volleyball, until he overhears that one hunky player is in need of a few dollars. That’s something Rob can provide, in exchange for a swing on his alpha male meat!

Can Rob satisfy this volleyball jock’s carnal desires?!

Read it now as an ebook!

Or read the whole thing here!

Rob happily munched on a taco, sitting on a bench near the beach. He watched the sorority girls splash each other. The sun shone brightly, and it lay a blanket of heat upon the beach. He hoped it wouldn’t dissuade the men from coming out, and indeed, the women soon proved an irresistible siren. This splendorous slice of California beach always attracted more women than men. That’s because there were three university campuses nearby, and all three were mostly women.
By eleven o’clock, sun-tanned young men were gathering in dribs and drags, and they made eyes at the girls, who made eyes back at them, and then mostly nothing happened, but it was cute to watch. Rob was a little old for this stuff. They probably saw him as “the old guy over there”. Luckily, there were a few older guys — like really old — so Rob didn’t come across that old.
One of them shot Rob a look like he was a creep. He was a bit young and slim for Rob’s taste, with a face like an overgrown infant, but Rob might have made an offer to him anyway. But Rob soon became entranced by a developing drama. That babyfaced fratboy seemed to have a crush on one girl who wanted nothing to do with him, while a different, somewhat thicker girl was all over him.
There was also a handsome dark-skinned man with long messy hair. Was he Brazilian? Rob overheard an accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. The man had a perfect six-pack, which Rob adored. He was a great admirer of the male form.
But the Brazilian man — if that was indeed what he was — did not look like a good prospect. He flashed a wad of cash when talking to a girl. A handsome man with cash and a girl already swooning over him was not likely to be willing to let Rob swing on his meat for a few dollars. That’s what he was hoping to find today on San Guapo Beach.
Rob was patient. He didn’t mind waiting. He loved beaches. He would gladly spend all day, or even multiple days, hanging out and waiting for a desperate man who might let him take a swing on their meat.
As the day wore on, San Guapo filled with college kids on spring break, including plenty of hefty, tanned and muscled young men who needed beer money and a ride home. Girls were too drunk to fuck most of the time, so the boys were frustrated and horny. It was prime hunting grounds for Rob.
He decided to go back to his hotel a little before noon. This part of the beach was filling up with family-types — women in one-piece bathing suits, carrying babies, and balding gray-haired men with paunchy bellies — so Rob left. Once the evening came he figured he’d be able to go back out, the beach would be crawling with young studs once again.
For now though, he was at a loss for what to do.
There was a crowd of people near the hotel’s part of the beach. Rob was interested and went closer — he didn’t normally hang out at the hotel’s bit of beach because his experience suggested those were the most scrubbed-clean, unexciting and banal beaches of all. It was impossible to do anything fun with corporate security goons on the lookout everywhere.
The Top Inn Hotel staff was here, Rob could see them scattered about, looking terrified of the crowd they had created. But the onlookers weren’t focused on anything but the match:
Volleyball.
It was a volleyball game. It was important enough for ESPN2 to be there filming. Now that Rob saw that, he recalled having seen a sign in the hotel to that effect. Was this a pro volleyball match? Was pro volleyball even a thing? He had no idea. Maybe Olympics qualifying or something.
Rob pushed into the crowd to watch. There were two teams of six playing. One was clearly the “away-team” — they were either Australian or New Zealander, judging from the flags on their shorts. The other were presumably locals, or at least American.
With some graceful shoving and sliding through the crowd, Rob got to the front, close enough that he could see the action and hear the grunts of the players when they struck the ball.
But he got to the front of the crowd only moments before the match was over. He had little interest in volleyball itself, so he didn’t much care about missing the game.
What he was sorry he missed was the guys — especially one guy in particular.
He was on the US team. He was tall and broad-shouldered, built like a jolly truck, with a hefty frame and a perfect six-pack. He was long-legged and long-armed, and he wore only short black shorts that extended just a few inches onto his thighs. Rob could tell his shorts were so short he had shaved the top of his pubic hair or it would have poked out above the elastic.
That volleyball player had a physique that Rob ached to admire. He wanted to taste his sweat-dappled shoulders so bad it hurt. He needed him. He wanted to suck the scruff off him. The blonde volleyballer ran his fingers through his confused blond mop of hair and said something frustrated, his words lost in the thrum and clamor of the dissipating crowd — his team had lost, and it seemed he and his teammates were upset with each other. They good-naturedly smiled for the ESPN2 cameras and shook their opponents’s hands, but they didn’t like it. Rob could sense it in them.
Rob milled about. He wanted that volleyball player. The man was obviously handsome enough to get a girl if he wanted it, but he seemed depressed. The women flocked to the winning team from down under — not only had they won, they had adorable accents. And Rob had to admit, they also had physiques he could get down with.
But they were not for Rob, he had eyes only for his beloved blond buck. He just needed to find a way to get him. Rob bought a bottle of water and drank it as though it was an important activity he couldn’t leave and do, so nobody noticed he was milling around for no reason. He waited for the herd to thin, and the cameras went into a van parked at the hotel. The excitement, such as it was, disappeared.
The argument between the blond and his teammates erupted out in the parking lot. Rob had casually walked out that way when they did. He didn’t catch the beginning of the argument, but he saw it end.
“I told you that wouldn’t work! Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Now we’re out ten grand-“
“Oh please, he was twenty minutes late, we nearly forfeited-“
“Maybe you ought to show up to practice once in a while!”
“Hey fuck you, none of this was my fault!”
“I’m the team captain, and I said we should-“
“Then it’s your fault!”
As they argued, they climbed into a jeep. At first Rob thought they were all going to squeeze into one soft-top jeep (with the soft-top removed, so there was plenty of room, more or less). It looked that way. But then just four of them slipped into that jeep, leaving two behind to continue arguing as though they didn’t notice the foursome in the keep was leaving without them.
“I told you that I had the better strategy-“
“But you never showed up to practice to tell us about it!”
“Oh come on, I skipped like two practices!”
“Yeah, but they were last week. You were out of practice today. You cost us that match, Hark!”
“Don’t you make accusations, you little pisshole, you served the ball like a goddamn cripple that one time-!”
“I made one error the whole game!” That blond — Hark was his name, it seemed — threw his hands in the air. He was the handsome blond with a bashful tangle of hair and a perfect body. Rob was entranced by the beads of sweat clinging to the pit in the small of his back — there were presumably fine little hairs there collecting the sweat — Rob knew most men had that, but he couldn’t see them because Hark was blond and his skin there was light — and he wanted to suck up every salty droplet. Hark’s shorts had slipped a bit as he walked to the parking lot, so the top of his asscrack was visible. He had big plump cheeks that Rob wanted to put his face between and blow. His asscheeks were pale as porcelain, but his shoulders and his face were browned by the sun.
“Well it cost us ten grand!” the other guy said. He threw his hands in the air. “I’m walking back!” he snapped, as though he had any other choice. The jeep had gone.
Hark stood there watching him go. He put his hands on his hips and ran his fingers through his hair. He scowled, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He forced an awkward smile on his face. Then he turned around and nearly ran into a complete stranger: Rob.
“Ah! Hey. Hi,” Hark said with a grunt. He was normally charming and outgoing, but it was hard to restart himself after that fight with his friends. It took him a moment to switch gears. He had a naturally jolly face when it wasn’t tense with frustration.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m cool,” Hark said. He shrugged. “I just… Things didn’t turn out how they were supposed to.” He added, “Obviously”, because he assumed Rob was a fan and was as disappointed as he was that his team lost.
“You poor baby… you wanna tell me about it?”
Hark looked at him suspiciously. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Rob Winthrop,” he said. “Why don’t you come back to my hotel? I’ve got some weed. I’m not very good at rolling joints, but if you can roll one up for me-“
“Okay,” he said flatly. Then he blushed. “I mean… yeah, cool. I can roll joints. And I haven’t smoked in awhile cuz I was preparing for this match. Some good that did me.”
“I saw your match. You were really good,” Rob said. He didn’t mention that he watched about thirty seconds of it. “What was that fight all about?”
Rob of course didn’t really care. He was just making conversation. Hark explained to him all about the team’s conflicts as they walked back to the hotel, and Rob listened the best he could manage given the dullness of the subject. He had literally nothing to offer to a conversation on volleyball strategy and training regiments. Once Hark — Keith Harkness was his name, Hark to his friends — once Hark got into talking about it, his natural charm took over, and he forgot that this was a kind of weird experience — running into a random man and going back to his hotel room to smoke weed.
The smoking weed part was pretty normal for Hark. The rest of it was odd.
This wasn’t the first time Hark had met some fans he didn’t know and gone somewhere with them. It was weird that Rob was just one person and that he brought Hark back to his hotel room. Hark thought that was odd. But not bad, after all, and he really did want to smoke a joint. That would relax him after that disappointing match and the fight with his teammates. Later, after it was all over, he was stoned enough to get paranoid and wonder what would have happened if Rob was an axe murderer. But that did not occur to him until long after it didn’t happen.
“Man, volleyball used to be fun,” Hark said as they got to the room and Rob unlocked the door. Hark sighed. “I started playing volleyball when baseball got too serious in high school. People would get in fights about it and shit, Coach Shithead yelling at me. I just wanted to lay back and toss the ball around with my buddies, broh.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said. He shut the door once Hark was inside.
“But now volleyball is all about making it to practice every day no matter what, and my girlfriend dumped me because I went to this match instead of her niece’s christening… it was complicated, but she’s got like, eight sisters, y’know, I can’t go to all their stupid shit. That’s like… all the time, y’know? They have so many kids — christenings like every week! I don’t have time for that! I went to her cousin’s friend’s baby shower! I didn’t get any credit for it because she got in a fight with her friend.”
“Uh-huh,” Rob said, rolling his eyes. “The weed’s in this box.”
“Hell yeah.” Hark’s emotions dwindled once he saw the weed and had a task to complete. He didn’t even just roll one joint. He was stuck on auto-pilot, so once he started, he rolled the entire eighth of an ounce into small joints. He was an expert joint-roller, despite his big sausage-like fingers.
Rob could actually roll great joints. He had only asked Hark to do it to get him in the hotel room. In fact, two joints Rob had rolled last night were sitting in the box. Hark didn’t notice them or realize it suggested Rob was lying about being unable to roll joints.
As Hark worked on the joints, Rob cleared his throat. “So… were you counting on the money from that match?”
Hark nodded. “I kinda need it. I bought this jet-ski last month, and uh… the salesman misled me about the monthly bill.” He blushed. “I mean… It was complicated. There’s fees and like… percents.”
“Oh, you poor baby,” Rob said. He patted Hark on the bare meat of his shoulder. It was firm and warm from the sunlight and moist from his sweat. “I could help.”
“What?”
“If you ram me in the ass and you make me feel good like I know you can,” Rob said, “I’ll give you two grand. I know that’s not as much as you were gonna make-“
“That’s more than I was gonna get it from it. We had six guys and ten grand, I was getting less than two grand out of it,” Hark blurted out. He bit his lip and shifted his weight uncomfortably, like he wished he hadn’t said that so eagerly. “Plus there’s taxes, I mean… you’ll be giving me cash, right?”
“Right. No taxes at all. So this is a lot more than you’d be getting if you had won.”
Hark laughed again, a nervous quaver in his voice. “That’s weird, broh.”
“I know,” Rob said. “I’ll jerk you off so good. I bet I do it better than any woman you’ve been with. I have a nice tight ass too.”
“Really?” Hark laughed. “I mean…” He blushed. “I guess… Yeah… That’s cool.”
Rob didn’t want to dawdle. He immediately pulled Hark’s shorts down — Hark had to lift his ass to give Rob easy access to his crotch — and bared his dick. He didn’t wear any underwear under those shorts. Rob had guessed as much seeing his cock and balls flop around when he had jumped and run across the volleyball court.
But it was nice to see it in person. He had a big meaty dick just like his body, all thick and girthy and strong, pale like his skin. His pubic hair was deep black though.
Hark sucked in his breath and held it in. His cheeks blushed a deep ruddy tone that made Rob laugh quietly. Hark held an unlit joint in his hand as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed, shorts down, looking like he expected to get smacked in the balls any moment now. He was ready to wince.
“Relax, Hark…” Rob said. He made his voice as feminine as possible to put Hark at ease. Then he lowered his head and kissed the tip of his dick.
It tasted like the beach, like flesh after sitting in the sun for hours. It radiated warmth, and the flavor of salty sand hit Rob’s tongue, as did the years of muscle-memory and strategy from Hark’s volleyball career. His hands roamed up Hark’s broad chest, while his mouth opened to swallow the tip of his manhood.
“Ah, oh…” Hark grunted like he had thought this would be painful and was surprised it wasn’t. He opened his eyes just in time to see Rob deep-throat him to the root.
A gasp escaped from Hark’s lips. He lifted his ass up off the bedspread, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. He was exhilarated suddenly, his anxiety vanishing in the face of the intense pleasure that rocketed through him.
He had been hornier than he thought. He was so upset about the match and nervous about being on TV, angry at his teammates and anxious at the situation with Rob that he hadn’t really given much thought to how this would feel. He had thought it was something he would just get over because he needed the money. It would be like mopping a floor — not pleasant by any means, but not the worst way to make a few dollars, and once you got started, you could just put on some Jimmy Buffett and think about something else.
That was what he did now. He put Jimmy Buffett on his cell phone, the tinny speakers filling the air and overpowering the sound of the dome. Hark had trouble concentrating after a few seconds because it felt so good. His hands shook with his cell phone hovering above his body before he could gain enough focus to get the music started.
The lit joint fell loose on the bed, both Hark and Rob having forgotten about it.
His dick rocketed to full erection in Rob’s mouth as Rob slammed his own head down deeply. His nose nuzzled the silky pubic hair of Hark’s crotch, while his hands reached up to tweak both nipples at once. Hark had big hefty pecs — Rob had been mesmerized watching them bounce when he jumped during the game, and now they bounced because they flexed under his fingertips.
“Goddamn!” Hark threw his head back and breathed through his gritted teeth. He laughed. “I never had dome like this.” He peered down at Rob, who greedily, moistly suckled on his dick as though trying to remove it. He slurped on it so hard it almost hurt, and Hark laughed harder to cover up his nervousness.
The sour and salty taste of precum hit Rob’s tongue. He guzzled it all down, making eye contact with Hark’s surprised face. The moist sounds of Rob gurgling on precum were loud enough to overpower the sound of Jimmy Buffett singing about the last mango in Paris.
“Are you ready to stick it in me? I wanna feel you inside me,” Rob said. He grinned and stood. Precum flowed freely down the shaft of Hark’s dick even though Rob wasn’t touching it now.
Hark clapped his hands, eyes giddy and heart beating. He’d never actually had anal sex — his dick was too big for any of his girlfriends to do that. He’d always wanted to try it though.
Rob rubbed lube into his own ass and bent over. He was going to sit on Hark’s lap, but Hark stood — he thought it seemed more manly to bend Rob over the bed so Hark could be on top.
“Ah, man…” Hark laughed again, as he always did when he was nervous. His cock throbbed. Precum dripped down his shaft. He ran his fingers through his tangled blond mop again, then watched Rob spread his cheeks. His tight dark hole winked, beckoning. Hark gulped. Was he really going to do this? Would he tell people about it? If not, he’d have to pretend he was still in need of money to pay for the jet ski.
Hark took a deep breath and slipped his dick in, just the tip at first. He felt resistance and stopped. He bit his lip. A bit more slid into Rob’s ass, which was well-lubed enough it felt like a trap, like quicksand and once Hark’s dick touched it, it was slowly sucked in more and more.
It was awkward, weird, his asscheeks strangely cold. It didn’t feel good at all at first — it wasn’t painful, it just didn’t feel like anything. Hark wondered if he was going to have to stop this.
And then a wave of pleasure hit him. He had been so nervous it didn’t happen right away. Once it did, however, it felt better than he thought possible. It was way better than being with a woman, he realized, because there was less pressure — he was so sure that Rob wanted him badly that it didn’t matter if Hark didn’t do it that good, or did it for too long or too short a time, or if his dick was too big, small, skinny or thick. He could just go with all his might without worrying about any of that.
He gripped Rob’s asscheeks and forced his dick in until his balls slapped against Rob’s flesh. A surge of sensations hit Hark, whose smile turned to an intense grimace. He let out a long low howl that was audible outside the hotel room.
Rob used one hand to jack himself off, while his other tightened into a claw that dug into the bedspread beneath himself. He panted, the potent feelings that coursed through his veins growing with each thrust of Hark’s dick into him.
“Oh god, shit, yeah, broh,” Hark cried out. He realized he was being loud — he had a deep voice so it carried well, it was difficult for him to say anything very quietly — but he couldn’t help it. It felt so good it was like losing his virginity all over again.
He sprayed a massive wad into Rob’s ass, great creamy wads of it coating Rob’s insides and seeping into him. Hark’s heavy balls crawled up in his sac, and still more sticky cum flowed into Rob.
Rob shot his own wad too, into his palm and on the mattress beneath him. But he stayed there, letting his ass get it hard over and over. Hark didn’t stop even when he was done. He kept moved his dick around as it limpened, turning all the creamy cum in Rob’s ass into a big wad of foamy juices that soaked onto the sheets.
“Damn…” Rob howled as loud as he could — which wasn’t very loud. When Hark’s dick finally plopped out, Rob sighed and shuddered. His exquisitely sensitive ass was so potent it hurt and he couldn’t breathe; it was all he could do to experience the climax rocketing around inside him.
Then, Rob collapsed in a sweaty heap on the bed. He looked up at Hark’s ruddy body. “You wanna lay with me for awhile? The cash is in my pants pocket.”
Hark didn’t respond for a long time. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to decide what to do — should he leave or stay to cuddle? Should he do it again? If so, should he demand more money? He found the cash in Rob’s pocket, but still wasn’t sure.
Then he saw that tender ass, plump and bare and ready for him to go again. “Aw, hell,” Hark said. He climbed into bed and lay next to him. “I guess I could give you your money’s worth.” He placed his arms behind his head, accentuating his chest muscles and baring his armpits. He looked surprised to see Rob smile and suck on his nipples. Rob licked his chest and his neck. Hark sighed. “Thanks, man.” He found the joint he had dropped earlier, which singed the pillow, and he puffed on it.
“No, thank you,” Rob said. For now, he thought, he was right where he wanted to be. He had found the kind of man he was hoping to find when he came to California.

Reacharound From a Drill Sergeant

Avery is a cleaner at a military base, so when he decides to tease a cruel drill sergeant, he is able to take it farther than he ever thought possible! Avery is not as obedient as Sergeant Powers expects his cadets to be, which means Avery just might be in for a reacharound he’ll never forget…

Sir, yes, sir!

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Avery stood in the barrack with a mop in hand. He waited. He thought it would be a long wait, but that didn’t end up being the case.
That was because Drill Sergeant Powers went for a run this morning. He didn’t always run in the mornings because there was a good chance he’d run across some cadets doing something against the rules — sneaking back onto base after an illicit night in town, for example — and then he’d need to punish them. He had a reputation for strictness, so he couldn’t look the other way when he saw cadets sneaking in. But he didn’t want to enforce every rule quite that strictly. He thought it was important to let them get away with certain things. It provided a certain sense of camaraderie among soldiers, and it gave them skills in sneaking, spycraft and teamwork. Plus, ignoring certain lesser offenses gave him the time and the latitude to go after major ones.
So he only went for an early-morning jog when he was pretty sure he wouldn’t run across any cadets breaking the rules. Today, he could easily make that assumption because there were no cadets on the base — they had all left yesterday, to be replaced later today by the first of the new batch.
So as far as Sergeant Powers was concerned, the base was empty. It wasn’t literally empty, of course, there were support staff and other drill sergeants, plus the ever-burgeoning ranks of military administration. But compared to the constant thrum of activity from the young men who filled up the barracks, this was a dead land, like the corpse of a military base, like it was some post-apocalyptic wasteland, Powers thought, and nature was about to start reclaiming this area.
When Sergeant Powers saw a flash of movement in one of the barracks, he barged right in. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, he thought, unless one of the cleaners had come in early today.
“Who’s in there?” His booming voice rang out.
Avery started mopping when he heard Sergeant Powers come into the barrack. Powers was burly and middle-aged and a bit jowly but with a body to die for, great strapping muscles and thick thighs. This morning he wore a tight tee shirt, Army-green, soaked with sweat until it was nearly translucent. Avery could see the hair coating his chest through the shirt.
And oh god those shorts made Avery’s dick hard. They were ridiculous — the kind of short-shorts that the Army made soldiers wear back in the 50s, when that was normal. They would have made Daisy Duke blush. They showed off Sergeant Powers’s thick thighs and tightly accentuated the pouch of his jockstrap stretching the fabric of the shorts, which pulled them low enough that one of the straps was visible running above his plump old-man ass.
“Oh, hi,” Avery said. He smiled bashfully as though this was an accident and he hadn’t meant to see Sergeant Powers like this. Hmmm… he’s got on nasty old shoes… Avery wasn’t a foot-fetishist, but he thought it was cute that Sergeant Powers still wore these ancient, dilapidated sneakers — the young men on base always wore fashionable, ultra-clean sneakers when running. Only old guys would wear old-fashioned short-shorts with beaten-down old shoes.
Of course Sergeant Powers wasn’t old, he was maybe forty-five or so, that was why Avery had been lusting for him for so long. He blushed when he made eye contact with Sergeant Powers, who looked at him suspiciously.
“You’re a cleaner. Why are you here so early?”
“I just… I have a doctor’s appointment later today,” Avery said. “I needed to get my work done early. They said there are no cadets today so it didn’t matter-“
“Yes.” Sergeant Powers barked like he was angry. Then he snorted and wiped his lips with one hand. He interacted almost exclusively with cadets he was allowed to order around, so he sometimes had trouble focusing on a more normal interaction with civilians. “Yes,” he said more softly, though his voice was still a guttural growl that bounced around in Avery’s ears.
“Oh,” Avery said, blushing. “Cool.” He resumed mopping, but he jutted his ass out, aiming it at Sergeant Powers.
Avery didn’t need to be facing him to tell that there was a reaction on Sergeant Powers’s face. His eyes opened wide, and he took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. Avery could feel his eyes aimed at Avery’s plump ass.
Avery mopped, but the mop just shifted around uselessly because he focused more on seducing Sergeant Powers, who now had no reason to be in the barrack but still hadn’t left. His eyes were trained on Avery’s ass.
Then he grunted. “Uh, I… I… What is that?!” he bellowed at no one in particular and picked up a pair of scissors somebody had left behind on a counter. “It’s scissors! It’s… Somebody left these. Nothing sharp in the barracks.”
“Uh-huh. You want me to throw them away for you?” Avery said. He took the scissors, ignoring the growing bulge in Sergeant Powers’s shorts — which were too short and tight to leave anything to the imagination.
Sergeant Powers’s whole body bucked. He closed his eyes and didn’t say anything at first. Then at last he gurgled and said, “No… I… I will keep them.” He put them back down.
“Are you okay?” Avery asked, clucking his tongue. “You look weak. Maybe you’ve been jogging too much, you poor baby.” He patted Sergeant Powers on the sweaty side of his body, and his touch made his whole body ripple, and a little baritone grunt was emitted from his mouth. Avery held his hand up. “Ew, you’re all sweaty!” He smiled at Sergeant Powers. “That’s so gross.”
“Sorry.” Sergeant Powers blushed. He was glad no cadets were around. He had blushed talking to a woman once in front of some cadets, and years later whole new groups of cadets had heard about it and laughed.
“Oh, that’s okay, sweetie, you can make it up to me,” Avery said. “My back itches.” He turned around and rubbed his back and ass against Sergeant Powers’s body, his sweaty flesh rubbing against Avery’s clothed ass and back. Avery felt the hardon in Sergeant Powers’s shorts, and he felt all of his muscles ripple again when his hardon pulsated and a grunt fell out of his mouth.
“Shit… I… Ain’t you s’posed to be mopping?” Sergeant Powers said. Goddamn, that ass just doesn’t quit.
“Hmmm… Yes, I’m supposed to,” Avery said. “But I just can’t seem to focus. I don’t have the discipline.”
“Discipline is my specialty,” Sergeant Powers said. His nostrils flared. “Get back to mopping, cadet!”
Avery saluted — though he faced the wrong way, so he merely saluted the bunk in front of him. “Sir, yes, sir!” He took the mop in hand and started running it over the floor in a little circle. “Sir, like this, sir?” He bent over even farther to keep his ass in front of Sergeant Powers’s crotch.
“No, cadet, you little shitheel maggot! Ain’t ya mama evuh teach you to mop, motherfucker!”
“Sir, no, sir, I’m sorry-“
“Well then I reckon your mama must be the dumbest cunt a donkey ever fucked onstage, ain’t that right? Is your daddy a donkey, son?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Avery said. He held back a series of snickers, but he soon let up and the snickers turned into full-on guffaws. He stopped when Powers aimed a threatening face at him.
“You laughin’ at me, cadet? Am I a clown for ya? Huh? Do I amuse you?”
“Sir, no, sir-“
“Cuz I said to mop, not laugh. I ain’t seein’ a lotta moppin’ goin’ on!” His deep voice echoed in the empty barrack. Avery took a step away then to keep his teasing going. He mopped seriously for just a moment, then looked over his shoulder at Sergeant Powers’s ruddy face. “Did I say to look at me, cadet?! You don’t decide where to look! Your eyes are owned by Uncle Sam now, and Uncle Sam wants ‘em aimed at that floor! You had better mop until I can eat off that floor!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Avery said, holding back a giggle. “Sir, when you eat off the floor, are you going to do it like this?” Avery lowered his head until his face was on the floor, but he kept his ass high in the air, shaking it back and forth in front of Sergeant Powers’s body. His dick was blatantly hard now, and it must have slipped out of his jockstrap because it jutted forward in his shorts.
“Cadet! You’re playing games, and if it’s not Tiddlywinks, I am not interested in any games! Do you understand me?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Because I’m not so sure you do! Where are you from, cadet?!”
“Canada. Most recently.”
“Canada?! Canada?! The only thing they got in Canada is boars and whores, and I don’t hear you squealing like a piggie! Not yet anyway.”
“Sir, not yet, sir! I can squeal like a piggie on command! Or any other squeal-type animal! Sir!”
“You look like the kinda man who would ram another man in the ass and not have the common courtesy to give that man a reacharound! Is that the kind of man you are?”
“Sir, no, sir! I love reacharounds, sir-” Avery yelped because he felt one of those big sausage-like fingers on his ass. Powers gripped his cheeks roughly, like a hunk of dough he wanted to rip off. A chamberous growl came out of his chest at the same time. Avery moved to stand up, but Sergeant Powers pushed him back to the mop. Avery had to lean on it for support.
“Let’s see if that’s true! If you’re lying to me, boy, I swear, I will have you guarding Bumfuck, Canada from the walrus-men before you can blink! Do you believe me?!”
“Sir, yes, sir! I’m from Bumfuck, Canada, sir, I know the walrus-men. They want only peace and fresh mackerel-“
“You think this is a joke, cadet?!” His hand rammed underneath Avery’s pants, pulling them down roughly and tearing his underwear in his haste to bare his ass. “I didn’t tell you to stop mopping, did I?”
“Sir, no, sir! Uh… I just didn’t want to be distracted — so I can do the best mopping job possible-“
His callused fingers kneaded Avery’s ass with such force it hurt. One of his fingers extended into Avery’s smooth asscrack. He teased the rim of his hole. “You had better do the best job possible! This Army is not in the business of giving a gun and a uniform to any piece of shit capable of doing a couple push-ups, you little pissant! This Army gives guns and uniforms to men, who can do things right the first time, men who can follow orders, cadet!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“So you keep mopping and you don’t stop even for one moment!” Sergeant Powers grinned behind Avery, his heart pounding. He hadn’t expected today to go like this. He hadn’t even been horny until he saw the cleaner — who worked for an outside contracting crew and was obviously a limpwristed sissy ogling cadets every chance he got, Powers had been noticing that for weeks. Then as soon as he saw Avery’s ass and felt it rubbing against his cock, Powers had been overwhelmed by an intense and uncontrollable desire to — as the young cadets said — ‘bust a nut’. That was not a vernacular Sergeant Powers could endorse. Literally, the Army had policies on that sort of thing.
Now he desperately wanted to ram someone who could take every inch of his big dick without complaint, allowing him to plow in with all his might. He loved women, of course, but they never really let him go hard, and sometimes, he didn’t want to be nice.
This was one of those times. “Don’t you turn your head and look at me, you little punk! Your ass belongs to the Army now!”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
His ass was bare, jutting upward. Sergeant Powers couldn’t even see his face now, just that ass, so plump and small yet big enough to have a little padding. He spread the cheeks and stroked his dick with one hand. “Do you feel like begging me to lube your ass up, cadet?!”
“Sir, yes, sir! Please, sir, lube me up! I can’t take it if you don’t use lube!”
“I don’t have any lube, so I’ll have to use spit, cadet! That’s all you’re worthy of anyway, I’d never spend money on lube for your dumb ass anyway!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Avery cried out. He leaned forward on the mop handle, which he still tried to move around like he was cleaning the floor. But it was hard with Sergeant Powers kneading his ass flesh and spreading his cheeks. The mop itself was slippery, so it didn’t support Avery well, and he had to focus on keeping it upright instead of sliding away. That made it hard to arch his back as Sergeant Powers required.
When Powers got Avery’s ass high enough and his own crotch low enough, he lined his dick up with Avery’s hole. “Soldier, you had best get ready, cuz you is in for it now. You in for a world of trouble. You ready for it.”
“Ye — eeeesssss!” Avery yelped because Powers forced his dick in with one powerful thrust before Avery had even finished agreeing. A burst of pain erupted in Avery’s backside, followed by a surge of blood-curdling pleasure. He grunted and mewled, his body twisting back and forth because both his feet and the mop stayed in the same place.
“Does that hurt, cadet?” Sergeant Powers grunted. He spat noisily in his palm and wiped it on his dick, the tip of which sat in Avery’s tight asshole. His whole body undulated as he tried to ram and ram and ram, forcing his dick in despite Avery’s tight hole. He wanted to break that smoothbody open, and he pressed his hairy chest against Avery’s back. His chest hair was already matted to his skin with the sweat from the morning’s run, so it rubbed moist and coarse and salty all at once over Avery’s shoulders and spine. The sensation and the rank and utter manhood smell made Avery’s cock spasm and spew precum even before anybody had touched it.
Avery bit his lip. “Sir, yes, sir! It hurts bad!”
“No it doesn’t, cadet! Your ass is owned by the Army, right? That means you don’t feel pain without my permission!” He pumped his hips, forcing more and more of his dick in. Avery shuddered and moaned into the mop handle.
“Sir, yes, sir! I’m sorry, sir!”
“This feels as good as lemonade in August, you little punk!”
“Sir, yes, sir-“
“Shut up! You’re from Canada, cadet, you wouldn’t know jack-shit about hot summers!” He held back a chuckle as Avery’s back rippled and more of his dick slipped in that tight hole. Soon his balls swayed and slapped against Avery’s backside. That sent further ripples of bliss up Avery’s spine. Powers grunted. “To you, I expect this feels as good as gravy on ya french fries-“
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“Which I had better never see you do, cadet! If I ever see you put gravy on ya french fries in the mess hall, I swear I’ll stick my foot so far up your ass my toes sing ‘O, Canada’ using your goddamn vocal cords!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Avery let out a loud moan as a wave of pleasure hit him suddenly. He lifted his head up, and the motion made the mop he was leaning on move — it was still wet and on the slick floor, so it was only a matter of time until it slid across the linoleum.
Avery would have toppled to the ground, but Sergeant Powers grabbed him. He was stretched out though, his entire body rigidly diagonal and taut, and he still felt like he would fall flat on his face and belly at any moment. He was supported entirely in Powers’s brick-muscled arms. His powerful chest pressed against Avery’s back, while cock throbbed in Avery’s ass.
“Ah, shit, son…” Sergeant Powers grunted, unable to bring himself to move now, even though it was difficult to keep Avery upright in this position, because it felt too good. But he didn’t want it to feel too much like he was making love so he moved his hips, grinding his dick and making Avery cry out again in both pleasure and pain. “Did I say to stop moppin’, cadet?!”
“Sir, no, sir!” Avery gritted his teeth and lifted his head arduously, ignoring the waves of pleasure making his back undulate and his mouth gasp for air. His responses now were more breathless and less loud, a fact that made Drill Sergeant Powers cluck his tongue.
“You ain’t usin’ ya big boy voice now, is ya! C’mon, lemme hear you say it!” Sergeant Powers said, watching as Avery’s hands trembled moving the mop handle around. He wasn’t really mopping effectively, but he was moving the mop across the floor. “C’mon, son, soldiers gotta have a voice you can hear!”
“Sir… I… Sir… I’m mopping now! Sir!” Avery gasped and squirmed, holding the mop handle against his body with both hands, so he used his entire lithe frame to move it around, like he was hugging and kissing the mop handle instead of Sergeant Powers.
A jolt of pleasure shot up Sergeant Powers’s spine as well, and he took a deep breath. His thick paws moved down Avery’s smooth body, grimacing a little when he felt his cock — Powers had jacked men off before — that kind of thing was not such a big deal when he was in boot camp, and circlejerks were common — yet he still felt a twinge of disgust at it.
Avery’s dick throbbed, rock-hard, in Sergeant Powers’s hand, the skin of which was rough like leather but slick from sweat and spit, which made it soft and intense and provocative of an intense constellation of sensations. Precum flowed down the shaft of Avery’s manhood, further lubing up Sergeant Powers’s grip. It felt angry, insistent, already humping his hand from the moment he touched it, Avery’s sticky precum lubing the shaft up and turned the coarse friction from his rough calluses to silky moisture that sent him into convulsions of pleasure. Avery had been craving a hand on his cock since this began, but he leaned on the mop with both of his own hands, making it impossible to touch himself.
One of the reasons Sergeant Powers gave handjobs was that it distracted his bottom and made his ass loosen up some. That worked on Avery too, who groaned and moaned as Powers’s cock drilled in and out, his ass now slack enough that Sergeant Powers could ram as hard as he wanted. Still Avery had to keep focus on the mop.
“Aaaah… Cadet, are you enjoying yourself?”
“Sir… Not as much as gravy on my french fries, sir!” Avery said through gritted teeth. He stuck his head in the air and howled, trying to muffle the sound at first, then he remembered the base was almost empty right now, so he could be as loud as he wanted.
Powers chuckled, making his dick pulsate in Avery’s sensitive ass. He could watch the pleasure wash over Avery’s body, making it ripple and stretch. Avery even lifted one of his feet off the ground like a dog until Sergeant Powers barked at him. “Why are you lifting your leg, cadet? Keep both feet on the floor!”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Avery said, gasping. His orgasm finally began, but was still inhibited by the tension of him nearly falling, trying to mop even as he got slammed in the ass and jacked off at the same time. “Sir… I’ve finished… mopping-” A moan escaped from his lips. “I’ve finished mopping this area, sir!”
“Well, then let’s mop over there,” Sergeant Powers said. He smirked as he took a step, forcing Avery to lift a foot again and take a single orgasm-inducing step. The motion sent a wave of blissful agony to wrack his body, and his knees buckled. Again, he almost fell to the floor. If Powers’s handjob wasn’t a little disrhythmic, unpracticed and callused, Avery would have already came all over his hand.
It took what felt like forever to move just a few yards, but then Avery began mopping the back area, near the toilets. His red face was tense, tears of sheer pleasure leaking down his cheeks as Sergeant Powers pounded into his prostate. Each thrust of his hips sent explosions of sensation through Avery’s body.
“Oh, god, shit, goddamn-” Avery’s voice broke, and he panted for air. His hands flailed, the mop toppling noisily to the ground.
Powers stopped ramming with his dick all the way in Avery’s ass, throbbing, feeling so thick inside him that Avery wondered if it was a fist. He lifted his head, leaning back until he felt that sweat-soaked tee shirt from Sergeant Powers’s morning run rubbing against Avery’s smooth back. “Cadet! Did you just address me without saying sir?!”
“Sir, yes, sir…” Avery moaned. For the first time since this had begun, he turned his head and looked at him. They both moved at once — so they both thought the other initiated it — and their kips interlocked. With Avery getting it up behind, his head craned to the side, it was a somewhat awkward kiss, but their tongues managed to collide within Avery’s mouth.
A burst of cum hit Avery’s insides, and he let out another moan, this one a blood-curdling, echoic moan that made the hairs on the back of Sergeant Powers’s head stand up. The sound reminded him that he was definitely with a man — as feminine as Avery was, that was a masculine wail — but it didn’t slow him down any, nor did the feel of sticky hot cum spreading over his fingers.
More juices sprayed out and onto the floor, while Powers filled Avery’s ass with a torrent of his white-hot cum. He held Avery tightly in place, letting his delicate lips lick on Powers’s tongue — not even really kissing anymore, just literally licking on it — as Avery writhed in his arms. Gobs of his cream coated Avery’s insides.
“Cadet-!” Powers tried to shout an order when Avery pulled away, but another wave of pleasure hit him, and his throaty voice broke. At the same moment, Powers shot another long flow of jizz, gallons of it, it felt like but probably wasn’t, Avery could feel the roping jets of jizz spurting into and leaking out of his ass. He exulted in the warmth seeping into his flesh, and he turned his head to the side so he could plunge his tongue back into Powers’s mouth.
The last few drops of Sergeant Powers’s cum drained into him, and still Powers didn’t let him go. Avery was still shooting a few last drops of his own climax onto the floor and the filthy water collected in the mop-bucket. Powers waited until he was done, Avery’s dick dangling limply in his grasp.
Then at last he let go and pulled out at the same time.
Avery would have slid to the ground, but Powers held him up, and then let him down gently on a bunk. Avery curled up, cum dripping out of his ass.
“Cadet! I’ll give you two minutes to rest, and then you had better get up and finish mopping!”
“Sir, yes, sir…” Avery said with a yawn. He stretched his legs. “Are you going to be around?”
Powers frowned. “No. I have things to do… Do you want to clean the showerhouse? You can watch me shower.”
“Yes!” Avery got up and giggled as the motion sent a fresh burst of pleasure from his still-sensitive ass. “I’d appreciate that very much,” he said with a salute. “Sir.”

The Marine Bottoms

Moshe often stumbles across Marines and cadets from the nearby base, so when one of each approaches his door, he wasn’t surprised. A cadet and his drill sergeant are in desperate need of something only Moshe can provide — a chance for the studly cadet to prove his devotion by bending over, grabbing his ankles and whistling dixie while Moshe goes to town all over his alpha-male ass!

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The Megillah was even more difficult to get right this year. Every year, Moshe found that he struggled a bit more to get the pronunciation right and to nail the rhythm of it — he didn’t speak Hebrew that well, much to his shame, and now that he no longer lived in Israel, he was losing his memory of the language. But every year during Purim, his family had him read the Megillah (that’s the same thing as the Bible’s Book of Esther and is part of the Tanakh whose recitation during the holy season of Purim is required for observant Jews; Purim is a March holiday that commemorates the Jews’s deliverance from certain genocide in the ancient Persian Empire). It was a sort of family tradition.
If Moshe had gotten married and had a child or two, his family would have had his kid begin reading the Megillah, or at least a few brief segments of it as he learned Hebrew. But Moshe had no desire for a child and seemed likely to remain a perpetual bachelor. That was exactly how he liked it.
That was why it remained his increasingly awkward duty to recite the Megillah every year.
There was a knock on the door. Moshe sighed and went to see who it was — if it was his NRA-loving, conservative neighbor with another gun-rights pamphlet, he was going to file a harassment complaint. He had promised himself that before as well, but he didn’t like to make waves, and it was always simpler just to take him at his word that he wouldn’t be back.
But it wasn’t that neighbor at all, it was the neighbor from the house on the other side, Sergeant Powers. Moshe didn’t see that much of him. He was from Camp Pendleton, the Marine Corps training facility here in San Diego. While Sergeant Powers was not exactly “nice”, he was always polite. Moshe rather liked him, certainly compared to the other neighbor.
It helped, of course, that Sergeant Powers was a big burly bear of a man, with muscles and a square jaw and so much swagger that Moshe nearly came in his pants the first time he had spied Powers lifting weights shirtless in his backyard. Today he was here, bright and early in the morning, with a younger man in tow.
The younger man was just as alluring as Powers and arguably even more sexy in a classic sense. The cadet had a Hollywood-handsome dimpled face, kind eyes and it was apparent he sported a six-pack under his t-shirt. Sergeant Powers was a bit older, with a few tinges of gray in his crewcut, and while he still had the body of a Marine, it showed notable wear and tear. The younger cadet was smooth, pert and taut, with dark hair and skin, an olive complexion and deep, dark eyes.
As Moshe opened the door, he realized the younger man looked like a cadet — he wore a crew-cut and a faded green t-shirt with short shorts, both of which appeared to be Marine Corps-issued. They were wrinkled as though he had been roused from bed early in the morning to come here.
“Shalom, Moshe,” Sergeant Powers said. He smiled. Moshe had taught him the word ‘shalom’ a few weeks ago, and now he used it every chance he got. “This is Cadet Pucci. He has a favor to ask you. May we come in?”
“Uh… I suppose,” Moshe said. He led them into his living room, where they both sat down. The situation was tense — Sergeant Powers appeared angry, enough so that Moshe wondered if he had done something wrong. Cadet Pucci, however, looked upset and guilty, as though it was he who had done something wrong. Moshe felt small and girlish in comparison to these two hulking brutes. Moshe cleared his throat. “A favor? I’m sorry, do I know you, Cadet… Antonio?”
Cadet Pucci shook his head. His face was worried, his dimples deep. He licked his lips. “Name’s Cadet Pucci, sir. I was askin’ Sarge here, man, I was-” He stopped talking and winced as Sergeant Powers cleared his throat. Cadet Pucci started again, his voice stilted and awkward. “Good morning, sir. I was hoping I could get your assistance this morning. I am a cadet at Camp Pendleton, and I need a day off-“
“The fuck you do!” Sergeant Powers barked.
Cadet Pucci again blanched and looked down at his feet. “I don’t need a day off. I want one. I’m a lazy guido bastard,” he said, looking to Powers as though expecting him to confirm it — he nodded his assent to Pucci’s words. Then Cadet Pucci continued. “I already had some leave, two weeks ago. And I met this girl. She was beautiful, you wouldn’t even believe it, she looked like, bam! She-” Cadet Pucci stopped himself, his hands fluttered by his sides like he wanted to mime out the silhouette of her body. He cleared his throat. “Well, she was hot as a frying pan, shit! And she’s moving to Georgia, so tonight is the last time I might see her. And I asked my sergeant if I could move a day of leave up. I wouldn’t even have to miss any training, I could leave at night-“
“Tell him why I said no,” Sergeant Powers said gruffly. He placed one hand on Cadet Pucci’s shoulder and squeezed.
“I… I have not always been followin’ the rules,” Cadet Pucci said. “I snuck out before. That was just to get laid though. I didn’t love that girl.”
“You don’t love any girl,” Sergeant Powers said with a scoff, like he disbelieved in the entire concept.
“I do!” Cadet Pucci said as his cheeks blushed. He looked to Moshe. “And anyway, Sergeant Powers said I had to prove I loved her and I wasn’t just after sex.”
“I may be a hardass, but I ain’t gonna stand in the way of true love,” Sergeant Powers said, mockingly wiping a tear from his eye. “Cadet Pucci skipped over a few details. He tried to sneak out for trim four times — that I know of. I caught him each time, so he been skatin’ on very thin ice for some time. He has been one mouthy fuck since the day his wop-dago ass got here.”
“So… uh,” Cadet Pucci said. “If you want… you don’t have to, sir. But, uh, if you want… we could, y’know… do stuff.” His cheeks were red as cherries now. “Like… masturbation stuff.” That made Powers snort and laugh under his breath. Cadet Pucci added, “Or like, whatever. I could do stuff — it’d be worth it to do, you know… whatever. Like cornholing.”
“What?” Moshe was shocked — he had thought Cadet Pucci was going to ask for a ride or for help finding the local girl, something like that. Sometimes cadets at the military base did that. Moshe liked to help them out when he could.
And he liked to help them out when they let him play with their dicks, which they very often did. Nobody is hornier than a Marine at boot camp. Or not yet a Marine, an almost-Marine.
“He’ll do anything you want, Moshe,” Sergeant Powers said. “I want to see how devoted he is to this girl. Plus as long as he gets his rocks off now, I’ll now he ain’t motivated by overflowing balls neither.” He looked at Cadet Pucci and nodded. “Go on, tell him.”
Cadet Pucci sighed. “I’ll… jerk you off, and you can plow me in the ass as hard as you want.” He blushed intensely. Then he took off his shirt, revealing a perfectly tapered torso and a powerful chest, which he flexed. He smiled proudly, though still shamefully, as Moshe looked on. He was splendidly muscled, his shoulders as broad as a barn, and he reeked of youth and sweat and power. Moshe’s dick was already twitching in his pants.
“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Sergeant Powers said.
Moshe nodded. This was awkward, but he certainly was not going to refuse such an incredible opportunity. He wasn’t sure how to begin, and now that he knew what was happening, he couldn’t stop himself from jumping right into it. His dick jerked to half-mast just from the realization of what was about to happen.
After a few seconds of silence, Cadet Pucci closed his eyes like he expected Moshe to get started, which was exactly what he did. Moshe dropped to his knees.
He dove into Cadet Pucci’s crotch before he could drop those shorts, which were musty, moist and sprinkled with dried salt from Cadet Pucci’s sweat. He must have been doing PT in these shorts for weeks, Moshe thought, wondering how long it had been since they were washed. It smelled like a long-time. He tasted layers of dried-in funk. His thick cock and heavy balls were cradled beneath the fabric by his Marine Corps-issued underwear. Moshe licked the bulge from top to bottom, and stuck his head between Cadet Pucci’s trunk-like thighs. Sergeant Powers laughed, either out of discomfort or glee at Cadet Pucci’s stiff-bodied anxiety.
“At attention, solider!” Powers barked. Cadet Pucci stood straight and tall, arms trembling as Moshe’s hands explored his bare upper body. His pecs twitched beneath Moshe’s fingers. Additional beads of nervous sweat appeared on his shoulders, and Moshe smeared them over his musculature.
Horniness arising from deep within and overwhelming him, Moshe wanted desperately to taste every inch of Cadet Pucci’s body and to feel his cock deep inside him. But Moshe also enjoyed topping, and he knew he’d never get a chance to top someone like this again. So he was in a quandary about how to proceed — he decided his best bet was to help Cadet Pucci relax a little by swallowing his cumload first. This would be better for everyone if Cadet Pucci were aroused too, and a virile young Marine like Cadet Pucci would surely cum quickly.
Moshe pulled down Cadet Pucci’s shorts and underwear, whistling to show his appreciation at Pucci’s big uncut cock — alphas loved it when you pretended they had some uniquely huge and wonderful cock. Pucci’s was in fact huge and wonderful, but then Moshe liked all dicks, so it wasn’t unique. Still, the smell of his rank crotch and his heavy balls made Moshe wrinkle his nose as desire flooded him, and Moshe’s dick rocketed to full erection in his pants. Without a word of warning, Moshe swallowed it to the root, as Cadet Pucci gasped and struggled to remain at attention.
“That girl worth it, Cadet Pucci?” Sergeant Powers asked. From his vantage point, Moshe couldn’t see or hear Cadet Pucci’s response, but it must have been yes, judging from the way Powers grunted back at him. Then Cadet Pucci’s entire body stiffened even more, and he yelped. Moshe saw Sergeant Powers’s hand disappearing behind Moshe’s ass.
“You got a tight ass, Cadet. That must be why all the girls like you,” Powers said. He smirked and licked his teeth as he did something with his hand that made Cadet Pucci gasp, bug out and clench his teeth tight.
He must have stuck a finger in there, Moshe realized with a sense of shock. Cadet Pucci’s toes curled and his hands tightened into fists behind his back as he submitted to the fingering. But the prostate stimulation helped him get hard too, and soon his cock was pulsating in Moshe’s mouth.
The taste of precum hit Moshe’s tongue. Above his head, he heard Sergeant Powers get close enough he was nearly kissing Moshe on the cheek. He spoke softly but with an authoritarian tenor to his voice. “That girl still worth it?” He violently rammed his finger — or maybe more than one finger, Moshe couldn’t see — in and out of Cadet Pucci’s juicy asscheeks. Cadet Pucci yelped and blushed, and for a moment he wasn’t at attention, he was leaning on Moshe’s shoulder, his knees buckling as pain and prostate pleasure alike rocketed up his spine.
“Yes,” Cadet Pucci said through gritted teeth. His muscles undulated in sync with his sergeant’s finger ramming into his asshole. His muscles all flexed every time he winced. He bit his lip. “I have to see her this weekend. I love her. Sir.”
Moshe stood and took off his own clothes. He felt tiny next to these two hulking men. Moshe was short, fair-haired and smooth-bodied, lean and trim. He had always been skinny, and though he had been working on bulking up, he simply didn’t have the body type to get big. That was very much unlike Cadet Pucci, whose broad body and fat cock seemed to take up all of the space in this room.
“Gimme one of your hands, Cadet Pucci,” Moshe said as authoritatively as he could muster. Sergeant Powers chuckled at the weak tenor of his voice, and he repeated the order.
“Give ‘im a hand, Cadet Pucci.”
Cadet Pucci did so, gingerly placing his hand on Moshe’s cock. He shrank back as soon as he touched it, as though he had never touched a hard dick before. Then he gripped it again and gave it a tentative stroke.
Moshe had to stand on his toes to kiss Cadet Pucci on the lips, which he did even as Cadet Pucci kept his face straight and stony, so it was like kissing a warm statue. Moshe’s tongue pushed into Pucci’s mouth — on one level, it was a bad kiss, Pucci’s tongue was limp and still like a dead rooster, but on the other level, it was warm and nervous and oh-so-macho. Moshe didn’t mind the lack of passion, as he rather enjoyed the roughness of Pucci’s fingers and the shamefully aroused passion of his body, which still stood at attention. He wasn’t even really stroking Moshe’s cock anymore, he just held onto it loosely while Moshe humped his manhood into Cadet Pucci’s grip. It took all of Pucci’s focus to remain at attention with Sarge’s finger in his tight ass and Pucci’s own hand on Moshe’s precum-soaked cock.
Then Moshe leapt into Pucci’s arms and mounted his chest. Cadet Pucci grunted in surprise and nearly fell over, but he was strong enough to support Moshe even without preparing for it first. He looked down in shock at the sight of Moshe’s hard dick on Pucci’s gym-toned torso, spewed precum over his six-pack abs.
Scooting up Pucci’s trunk-like chest, Moshe let his dick rest between those mountainous pecs, which were still hard from the tension and the pain in his ass. Now that his head was over Pucci’s body, Moshe could see Sergeant Powers’s cruel smile as he wedged a second finger into Pucci’s asshole. His cheeks jiggled marvelously.
Using Pucci’s head for support, Moshe climbed up even farther, until his crotch was right in Pucci’s face. His dick leaked fluids over his nose and cheeks, and Cadet Pucci trembled as he tried hard to avoid gagging.
“This still worth it, Cadet?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Pucci’s voice was pinched and strained, and muffled by the cockshaft pulsating against his lips. He gagged as the taste of cock flooded his senses.
Moshe struggled to get his dick into Pucci’s mouth from this angle. He had to angle his hips outward, and Cadet Pucci had to support his ass with both hands, but when he did, Cadet Pucci swallowed his entire cock easily. He was a big man, so he had a big throat. Even as it spasmed and choked on the flavor, and Cadet Pucci blushed intensely, he let Moshe’s dick enter his throat. He swallowed it down deep, until his nose was nestled in Moshe’s crotch.
A moan escaped from Moshe’s lips, as Antonio gagged. Cadet Pucci had that thick lustrous dark hair that Italian men were known for. It was cut into a short Marine Corps crew-cut, but it was obvious that he had perfect politician’s-hair when he let it grow out. Moshe gripped his head, savoring the rolls of flesh in the back of his scalp as he shoved his dick down the man’s spasming throat.
From this vantage point, Moshe saw Sergeant Powers’s hand in Pucci’s ass. He smiled at Moshe, who threw his head back and moaned, and Sergeant Powers slowly worked a second finger in. Cadet Pucci bucked and he nearly fell over again, but managed to stay standing, despite the series of gags wracking his throat.
“Keep at attention, Cadet!”
It didn’t take very much for Moshe to feel his orgasm coming. He didn’t want to end like this, without plowing Cadet Pucci in the tight Italian ass, so he hopped down from the man’s shoulders. Pucci’s entire face was moist with precum and his own saliva, which dripped from his lips — he couldn’t wipe his face off without breaking his posture, so he remained there with his wrinkled-nose face shiny, manfluids running in rivulets down his square jaw.
“Gimme twenty!” Moshe said, and after a moment’s hesitation to consider whether to obey, Cadet Pucci dropped to the ground.
He began doing push-ups, counting them off as Sarge put one hand on his bare back to guide him. As he did so, Moshe mounted Pucci’s ass, just wedging his dick between the cheeks for now. Antonio struggled to keep going with the push-ups now that he had Moshe’s weight on his back. His firm back muscles flexed beneath Moshe’s smooth body.
“One!” Sergeant Powers said as he watched Cadet Pucci struggle to get his push-ups right. “I ain’t countin’ these granny-push-ups, Cadet. Do ’em properly!”
Cadet Pucci began doing push-ups much more slowly with Moshe’s weight on his back. He grunted and heaved with each motion. His powerful biceps worked up and down.
“C’mon, Cadet, don’t give up!” Sergeant Powers barked. He got on his knees right in front of Pucci’s face and demanded he keep going. Pucci’s back muscles strained, covered in sweat.
As Cadet Pucci struggled to finish his push-ups, Moshe again had to work on his angle so he could penetrate the cadet. He lowered his body until his cock lined up with Pucci’s ass, then he managed to get the tip of his dick in while still resting his body on Pucci’s ass. Instantly, Cadet Pucci dropped to the floor, gritting his teeth with pain. He squirmed there.
“Get up, Cadet! You fuckin’ pussy! If you can’t finish these push-ups, I swear to Christ you’ll never do a push-up without a cock in your ass again!”
Cadet Pucci struggled back to supporting himself on his arms and legs, while Moshe worked his dick in deeper, rocking his body back and forth to help it slide in. Pucci’s hole had been loosened a bit by Sarge’s fingers, but it was still so tight Moshe though he might cum from the moment he entered. The squeeziness of his booty sent waves of pleasure to crash through Moshe’s twink frame.
“He keepin’ hisself open how you want it, Moshe?” Sergeant Powers asked.
“Yeah, Sarge,” Moshe said. “He’s doin’ good.” That was when Moshe noticed that Powers had a bulge in his shorts too. Moshe reached for that bulge without giving it a second thought, and blushed when Sergeant Powers smiled.
“Stick it in me…” Moshe said, his voice weak and breathless as he worked to hold back his orgasm. He stopped moving with his cock all the way in Pucci’s ass, letting it throb there,
Powers grinned. He smacked Pucci’s ass and laughed at how the motion made him writhe and flex every muscle on his powerful body. Then Sergeant Powers got behind Moshe and pulled his shorts down.
He rammed his dick in hard and grunted as it melted right in. Moshe was well-practiced at taking huge cocks like his — and at taking Powers’s cock specifically — so he gritted his teeth and submitted to it. He dug his nails into Pucci’s broad back as he loosened himself up. He lost himself in the exquisite sandwich of Marine meat both in front and behind him.
Cadet Pucci stopped doing push-ups. Nobody was counting anymore, but Moshe was fairly sure he had hit at least twenty — though Sergeant Powers had refused to count many of them. Regardless, Cadet Pucci lay flat on the ground now, grunting with every thrust of Moshe’s dick and yelping when Powers thrust into Moshe, which forced Moshe to penetrate Cadet Pucci even harder.
Moshe felt like a bug being squashed between two large stone statues. Powers, however, was a bit soft — he was bigger than Cadet Pucci, but older, hairier and less perfectly etched. Moshe was fine with that. While he certainly appreciated the Hollywood-handsome good lucks of Cadet Pucci, he enjoyed the burly hairiness of Sergeant Powers as well.
As Moshe neared orgasm, he rested his face in Pucci’s broad, sweat-covered back. He licked his strapping muscles. Above him, Powers did much the same, resting his weight partially on his knees but also on Moshe. That put Powers’s head above Moshe and near Pucci’s ruddy, wincing face.
“You like this, Cadet?”
“Sir, no, sir!”
“Good,” Powers said. He laughed as he licked Pucci’s earlobe, making Cadet Pucci shudder in humiliation and agony. Moshe managed to get one of his hands under Pucci’s body, and was surprised to feel a rock-hard cock — he must really enjoy prostate stimulation, Moshe thought. He stroked Pucci’s dick the best he could, and Cadet Pucci began humping his hips instinctively.
“Tell me when you feel cum in yer ass,” Sergeant Powers said. When Cadet Pucci winced and looked away, he repeated himself. “I wanna cum at the same time. So tell me.”
It looked like Cadet Pucci didn’t want to acknowledge the feeling of semen in his ass, but he nodded anyway. As Moshe felt his orgasm approach, Powers lifted both Cadet Pucci and Moshe, so all three were on their knees. Moshe was still sandwiched between the huge men on both sides of him, and Moshe barely even moved himself, allowing both men’s powerful bodies to provide all the motion. Moshe just licked and sucked on the taut muscles all around him.
In the end, Cadet Pucci acknowledged it even before Moshe had realized he was cumming. His orgasm washed over his body and made him shudder with delight. His spine was wracked by exquisite pain from his ass, which mingled with the pleasure he felt all over. Hot cum sprayed within Pucci’s asshole.
Then, a few seconds later, both Cadet Pucci and Sergeant Powers shot their own load. Powers had a huge wad that sunk into every corner of Moshe’s body, while Cadet Pucci bucked and gagged when he shot his load into the palm of Moshe’s waiting hand.
While all three dicks limpened, Moshe raised his handful of steaming cum to Pucci’s mouth. Cadet Pucci gagged again, and winced, still in pain from Moshe’s dick in his ass.
“Open your mouth, Cadet,” Sergeant Powers said. “Still worth it?”
Cadet Pucci opened his mouth. “Absolutely worth it, Sarge.” Moshe emptied the cumload into Pucci’s mouth, and sighed as Pucci’s ass clenched around his cock once more. Cadet Pucci choked and gagged down every drop.
And then it was at last over. Powers dismounted Moshe, who pulled away from Pucci’s naked, moist body. Cadet Pucci collapsed onto the ground, but only for a moment before Sergeant Powers barked at him to get up.
“Up, Cadet, at attention!”
Pucci’s ass was in terrible pain, so his knees buckled, but he managed to stand at attention. His limp dick hung between his legs. Moshe giggled as he stroked it and got a few nervous shakes from Pucci’s body, tensing his muscles again as his overly sensitive dick throbbed in Moshe’s fingers.
Moshe smiled. “I guess his love is true, Sarge,” he said.
Sarge nodded. “I sure thought he’d back out,” he said. “Alright, Cadet Pucci, you can have your leave, and I won’t charge you for conduct unbecoming.”
Cadet Pucci gasped. “Thank you, Sergeant Powers,” he said, then added, “And Moshe, thank you too.” He cleared his throat. “Perhaps when I want an extra night off in the future-“
“Absolutely-” Moshe said, but was interrupted by Sergeant Powers.
“No way, Cadet. Next time, you submit to me,” Powers said with a grin.